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Stories related to segmented sieve

Amit Jotwani

Two sides to a story
and the truth
oscillates between
the perceptions.

The truth you believe 
is just the leftover 
of the lie you sieve. 


 #lie #sieve #truth #perception #YoPoWriMo #yqbaba

Amit Jotwani

Sitting unalone in our car,                                   partnering selectively sieved reminisces,                              with no destination on my mind;                       I write our names inside a heart,                  on the fogged windshield;                                  only to watch the heart bleed away,                making our love just a fond memory. 
 #memories #sieve #FoggedWindshield #heart #love #fond #bleed #YoPoWriMo #yqbaba

Amit Jotwani

Twinkling canopy of God's blanket
showering unbiased blessings, 
filtered through karma's stringent sieve, 
partially answering the orison 
of barren, withering spirits, 
facing an unseasonal winter. 
 #GOD #blanket #orison #UnbiasedBlessings #karma #sieve #barren #spirits #UnseasonalWinter #YOPOWRIMO #yqbaba Picture courtesy Rudraksh Goel

Gursewak

gsjqgqvw7evzwvw s sze wg w gwzw shwbw evebie d d sjsd sns sjs s djd snshs sjvs sks e djd e ie e e kbe sieve wn ebeje e eeb e ende eeejve wn

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First Last

#Hope #Forget #Life #sunshine #Praise #Rise desire💓 Sieve the bliss, let's change through gist training, Keep in mind, ecstasy never appea

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Hope of life #Hope #forget #life #sunshine #praise #rise #desire💓
Sieve the bliss, let's change through gist training, 
Keep in mind, ecstasy never appea

Sunita Pathania

#Ihavelostmymarbles To lose your marbles ****************** This idiom means to become insane; to start to forget things and be confused;

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Ashu

Exhorting a century, you agar-hearted bounce towards me. And sieve my wrinkles with your hands blooming flowers. Beautiful in handsome. ©As

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 Exhorting a century,
you agar-hearted bounce towards me.
And sieve my wrinkles
with your hands blooming flowers.
Beautiful in handsome.

©As

Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

#something I LOOK AT-51 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY The crumbling relics of the bygone days tell it all, the exploitation of man by man, one

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SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51
BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY

The crumbling relics 
of the bygone days tell it all,
the exploitation of man by man,
one carrying another on his shoulder to live and make a living for those he loves.

The deserted look of the street in yesteryears speaks volumes of imperialism at its peak with people hardly daring to come out in open,
what to raise their voice of thunder?

Everything remained the same except the glittering outer line,
it is same, a lonely man's lone walk in a crowded street.
We are the same gentlemen as we were hundred years back  with gloomy eyes and the same horrified looks on our face

Still, we digest and tolerate injustice, still hesitant and uncomfortable we are to raise our voice and call a spade a spade,
still imperialism in a new guise, the indomitable desire of man to subjugate, to build his castle on others blood and sweat.

Still economic disparity and segmented division of society, still one carrying the other on his shoulder to make his both ends meet with naked self-interest and parochial loyalties and make belief identities eating the very vitals of the society.

Things have changed but
hardly there is any change in us.
The wind of change touching us without affecting our attitude towards life and others with whom we live and share
not this so beautiful world of ours.

copyright@smrutiranjan 20.8.2017 #SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51
BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY

The crumbling relics 
of the bygone days tell it all,
the exploitation of man by man,
one

Aady

Dear love, You are hidden by a veil of foam and flesh and I cannot see anything clearly I hear sounds of laughter and people reaching me

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The unrequited painful love... 

//captioned// Dear love,

You are hidden by a veil of foam and flesh and I cannot see anything clearly 

I hear sounds of laughter and people reaching me

marmalade ツ

your alarm clock crashes on your bedside table. your father is already awake. he doesn't tell you to polish his shoes, today. your mother do

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how it feels to die~ your alarm clock crashes
on your bedside table.
your father is already awake.
he doesn't tell you
to polish his shoes, today.
your mother do
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