when the world came to a standstill
and darkness fell all over
when the economy failed you
and you sat staring at blank walls for a month
or two
when the world was crumbling all around
when silence became too deafening a sound
it’s the artists that saved you
it’s the musicians and actors
and poets and writers
who ran to your rescue
as you cried and laughed to music
immersed yourself in movies
and tv shows
turned to books and poetry
and let art engulf you
what happens when we stop and smell the roses
and it’s a stench we cannot bear
what happens when we finally leave the nest
and we’re not enough to make it anywhere
what happens to the world we imagined
as our dreams are deferred,
what happens when we’re given a pen to write
the future,
and we can’t write a word.
so to the artists I say
your words and paintings and notes
will record these times
and carry us through them
better than any corporation every would
better than any government ever could
we’re making history
you and I,
by recording it in poetry
History.
Let’s make it like we are
Never going to love again.
Breathe again.
Live again.
For in your ruins, resides my heart
For in your memoirs, live my memories.
So when I say, let’s make history:
I mean let’s write it together: just you
and I.
Let’s fill in the words with love,
Let’s write a fairytale…
Let’s fall in love
The greatest empire known to man
You and I
Can change the world
At this time
In this moment
It’s up to us
To make the rules
And not be ignorant
all I see is black and white
all I see is wrong and right
all I see is ignorance at its height
don't we have the power to fight?
don't we have the power to create a new world
to create a new age and push every single boundary
known to mankind
don't we have the power to be ingenious, to be unorthodox
to be creative and innovative
Do we not have the power be history in the
making?
Look around you right now.
It's history in the making.
Things the future will,
Painfully memorize,
Things the future will,
Never truly know.
Long after, when we,
You and I, will have perished,
Our bones turned to dust,
And our memories,
Faint on old paper,
Will the world remember us?
Or will we be one of the,
Common countless others,
That plagues it's surface,
For eternity?
Will history remember us?
Our pains, our struggles,
Our thoughts?
History is like a teacher.
It tells us of our wide blown achievements,
that held our heads up high,
brought smiles to our faces,
and waved our countries flags high up in the sky
it also tells us of the worst of our lows,
the depression humanity has sank into before,
all the wars and plagues that have so forth
happened,
that we just can’t, and mustn’t, close
the door on.
It’s not the sentiments of men which make
history,
But their actions that do.
It isn’t only the words and emotions,
But the hard work and optimism too.
For, we aren’t just changing bits and pieces
of the world,
We’re making history too.
And even now, it teaches us, being one of
the best teachers around.
Of the pitfalls we need to rise up from,
The love and assistance we need to give,
To those who are our own, and those who are
not,
It’s time to become brothers and sisters,
to be free, to live.
because in this time of crisis, humanity needs
to be one
remember, history will be teaching its next
batch about us.
No.
Because history only remembers the victorious.
And we, can never truly win,
Not with our privilege,
And our prejudice,
Blinding us with hate.
So, open your eyes,
Look around you right now,
For it's history in the making .
We record our tragedies numerically:
3 million infected, 200,000 dead.
Not stories, we have numbers instead
That's what will be in our history books
Not the story of Ramjeet.
Who walked barefoot to the borders of Nepal,
Who bid farewell to this world -
before he could say hello to his wife.
Before he could lead a full life.
No history won't remember Ramjeet
Unlike him the ink won't be left to bleed
And as I sit in my bubble of safety and privilege
I wonder…
Am I doing enough?
Am i making a difference?
By just sitting at home
Complaining of boredom
And sleeping all day
And binging netflix all night
Am i helping?
Am I living?
Am I trying to make a change?
Will I be able to make any history
Or will I just be another unknown face
And as my privilege seeps into world view,
And I take another bite of my warm food
I am making history, as most of us are,
As those who sat still,
when they could’ve gone far.
And while I ache of unfulfilled dreams
I can't seem to forget
Those who have not lost dreams,
As they weren’t in the position to make them
Do I not have an obligation to the human race,
And the history I dreamed I would write?
Thats why I cannot offer respite
To those around me,
Crawling, walking, fighting for existence.
How can I return to normalcy,
When I have this blood of complacency,
Pouring through my veins.
Sometimes I forget
We are living breathing beings of stardust,
Making history runs in our veins.
Right from a doctor’s efforts to a soldier’s
resilience.
It seeps into the very crevices of our soul.
Our fears and dreams are metamorphosing into
reality.
We are making history.
Spending time rarer than radium
With our souls, our family, our unwavering
unconditional memories
Moments for healing the fissures in our cranium
Sitting in nature's holy lap, just around
the refreshing breeze
Had we expected our fast lives to freeze?
Flapping through those torn pages
With stiff moments
And tough hugs
Yes, we are making history!
By investing moments in our childhood mystery
By adoring all the shells near our estuary!
We didn’t expect to face anything as dangerous
as what we’re facing in the now,
We don’t have a rule book or recipe telling
us what to do and how,
But, with a little bit of teamwork,
A pinch of resilience,
A mixture of strength and determination and
A small sprinkle of hope
We can bring about a better tomorrow.
We can’t change what has transpired, instead
we can let it inspire,
To create a brighter, fulgent future
Where everyone thrives, including Mother nature.
So let us all come together in this perilous
journey,
And hand in hand make history.
But if for one second you think,
You’re a misfit in their memory,
You should know that with every move you make,
You leave behind a legacy.
You are the force that stops the tide.
You can make the sun and moon collide,
You are the sunrise in the west,
So don’t you dare settle for less.
Broken pieces of nature are slowly fixing
themselves.
My window shows me green trees not busy cars
And not smokey black, but glistening stars
The sea shows me Mumbai dolphins that were
once forgotten
And not the egoistic plastic wrappers for
they've been hidden
The sky shows me colours of all happy shades
And not the grey fog for that's started to
fade
The streets show me the wild of the forest,
up tall
And not frightened cages of the weak and small
My window shows me green trees not busy cars
And not smokey black but glistening stars.
Broken pieces of nature are slowly fixing
themselves.
My window shows me the sea, the sky, the streets
Who show me the wondrous stories of my dreams
But the most inspiring story
That I see from my window,
Is narrated by the most injured piece of nature.
The people.
They show me a story I used to consider far-fetched
They show me a story - one of solidarity
The crescent and the cross and the om are all
praying for the same
The haves and the have-nots are stuck in one
game
The dark and the fair are working towards
a common goal
For now they all have a shared "societal role"
And they all stand in their balconies and
applaud the brave
And they all burn 'diyas' to lighten the grave
And they all sing and dance window to window
And bit by bit they once again begin to grow.
And the most injured piece of nature
Starts to fix itself.
