The Writer's Desk

Hello friends!
I am kanishka Singh from Aligarh, Uttar Pradesh. My relationship with the pen and paper started from writing in  school competitions. But the deep interest developed in 2017(when I was in class 11).
I think I carry a storm of emotions inside me that finds its way on paper in the form of poetry. These emotions are outspoken about the love that exists, the emptiness that follows it, the blood of the valiant and the trembling screams of sufferings.
I thank you all for reading my content. Please keep reading and support me in my journey.
Thank you!

"लाल स्याही"

कलम में भरी काली सिहायी
पन्ने पर उतरते शब्दों के संग लाल हो रही है;
ये लाल रंग मिश्रण है,
मेरे भारत के कई लालों के लहू का।

इन वीरों के रक्त के मेल का एक भी कण,
नहीं देता जाति, धर्म या स्थान का कोई विवरण;
वह तो अपनी बस एक ही पहचान बताता है,
भारत की माटी सा महकता है,
भारत को ही अपनी शान बताता है,
यह लहू बताता है,

उसकी वर्दी ही होती है उसका पसंदीदा वस्त्र,
और देशभक्ति ही होता है उसका सबसे मजबूत अस्त्र;
यह गाता है गाथाएं,
और बतलाता है
कि कैसे बस देश हित ही
स्वार्थ होता है उस चित का;
जो निस्वार्थ होकर अपनी हर सांस
देश के नाम कर जाता है,
गोलियों से तो बस उसका शरीर शहीद होता है,
भारत माता का बस यही तो एक पुत्र है
जो सदैव अमर रहता है।

इस लाल स्याही की
हर एक बूंद में,
मां के सूने आंचल का प्रतिबिंब दिखाई देता है;
तो कुछ बूंदों में इसकी,
मेरे देश की वीर पत्नियों का सिंदूर भी छलकता है।

फिर भी यह वीर लहू, देश के साथ अपने संबंध को
अपने सभी सगों से ऊपर रखता है।
यूहीं नहीं, हर एक शीश इनको नमन करता है,
यह हर इस शीश की रक्षा को ही
अपने जीवन का उद्देश्य बनाता है;
देश के लिए हर पल तैनात ये परमवीर
भारतीय सैनिक कहलाता है।


The patriarchal society in which we grow up, is the root to all the gender discrimination that the girls face. This poem illustrates how the society being the scissors, cuts out men and women(being sheets of paper) differently because of which women do not get equal rights and freedom.

Just like a sheet of paper,
Blank, pressed and intact,
Humans are born.
By society, being the scissors,
They are then torn!
Into, Men and women,
Teaching men, to be more man,
Than being humane…
And expecting women,
To be subordinate to men,
To fit in the frame.
For men,
The edge of the scissors is made sharp,
With masculinity, superiority, and patriarchy.
Continuing to make their emotions a matter of carp!
For women though,
The scissors prefer to be blunt,
Making them more vulnerable to get hunt!
Cutting them out as the personator of the bodies,
Having perfect sized breasts;
To attract the rest,
Speaking soft and less,
Compromising till their last breath!
The scissors,
Makes women fasten in shackles of being modest.
Not all sheets,
accept to be torn out into such rags.
Some of them
Deny being cut out by scissors
Become men,
Who look up to women
For being equal to them.
Become women,
Carves out their own name.

"I Wish"

Newspapers are one of the primary sources of knowledge and news all around the world. But, due to corruption, fraud, and betrayal, even they fail to deliver the precise truth to the common masses. This causes people to believe in wrong and subsequently has taken over the trust of people from it, which leads to a misconception regarding many issues among them. So, here’s my poem in which I make a wish that The Newspaper could again be the source of correct information.

Folded pages,
Bound together,
Saying out loud,
Nationals, Internationals and even weather!
Unfurling all the round globe’s matter…
My father says,
It’s known as a newspaper.
I wish:
It(newspaper) to be little more fairer,
To accuse the briber,
And, not to victimize the poorer.
I wish:
The black bold heading,
Said more truth,
Rather than, simply being eye-catching.
I wish:
The ink spread on that,
Did not lead to the hatred.
I wish:
The pens that carved the letters on it,
Had thought of the readers a bit,
And bended their pen’s nib,
To craft out what the reality is.
I wish:
The flying pieces of paper,
Kept on my counter,
were more of facts,
and less of what is popular.