Candid

  Battle of Opinions The battle of opinions was fought between commoners; Right and Left were the warring parties. Expressions and language pierced violently— Words struck the hearts of their opponents. Social media became the battlefield. Every burning heart poured out anguish In informal debates that brought only temporary relief. Warm regards, thanks, and congratulatory messages went missing. Opinions of Right and Left were locked in a tug of war. Somebody smiled from a corner- It was the one who had set the house on fire, Then vanished into hiding. Unnoticed by the warring parties, That culprit enjoyed the battle from afar. Then the admin decided To stop the warring parties from posting opinions. The battle of opinions ceased at once. But the warriors were not ready— They searched for another platform To continue their intense fight, from A to Z. Meanwhile, the real battle was fought By real soldiers. And in the end— Truth prevailed.

CURVES AND CURVY In the land of Curves and Curvy , Curves bring shame on the body, But fame when on a car, In the sky, it’s fine with the moon. Curves and curvy no silent affair, Comes with a bang And surprises all. When fame and reputation overrides, Virtues and vices reason their existence. Who knows—curves may soon come in fashion and glamour , Riding curvy just to enjoy a laugh and have fun.  

 Time We search, we chase, while time quietly unravels. Between fading analog traces and rising automatic dawns, our moments flicker. What was true then, time-tested, is false now. Time is the truest testimony — its hands moving, whispering: I am running, so shall you. Wound it, waste it — and time rises in revenge. It observes, it stirs, unleashing waves of chaos upon life, until discipline and order are quietly restored. Love it or hate it, it will be there forever.

The Gini and Me I once opened a bottle and a gini came out. The stories I believed as a child melted quietly in my youth— never real, yet never forgotten. As I slided toward maturity, AI gripped the world around me. I want to bottle AI. Remove it, use it, pack it again and again— like a tool, not a tether. Let me feel the wind with skin, not sensors. Let me fail, foolishly, and laugh with no algorithm watching. Let me look as I am— with no filters. Let me be a human— with a brain and a beating, perseverance spider.