Nupigi Thamoi, a woman’s Heart.
An acrylic painting by Monica Ingudam
Away, an acrylic painting by Monica Ingudam
Away
Away, an acrylic painting
083 It’s all in the mind : Langmeidong
Langmeidong
Oh flock of Langmeidong birds,
You had spared many of your feathers for Langlen,
You had taken her as one of you,
Giving her the wings,
Teaching her to fly,
Rescuing her from the wrath of her step-mother,
Rescuing her from rejections,
Rescuing her from hearing the terrible heart piercing words,
All she wanted was love,
All she wanted was acceptance,
Do you have more feathers to spare ?
~The End~
Inspired from the #Manipuri folk tale uchek Langmeidong, An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
082 It’s all in the mind : Tears
Tears
Tears welling up
Tears filling up
Let it flow
Empty it out
You cry alone
You laugh together
Haven’t you learnt the ways of the humans?
Red is red
Red will remain red.
It’s not different
You are not different
You are just a human.
~The End~
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
081 It’s all in the mind : A Woman
A WomanA red scarf with red high heels,
A cold day with piping hot tea,
A traveler with no destination,
A woman, a free spirit.
A cold day with piping hot tea,
A traveler with no destination,
A woman, a free spirit.
~The End~
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
A flower, an acrylic painting
A flower, old and withered. An acrylic painting by Monica Ingudam.
A flower
For the brave Manipuri warrior
An acrylic painting by Monica Ingudam
For the brave Manipuri warrior
For the brave Manipuri warrior, an acrylic painting
The Red Flower, An acrylic painting by Monica Ingudam
The Red Flower
Seek
To bloom
Far Away
In the mountains
Just to catch a sight of you in silence.
The Red Flower
The red flower, an acrylic painting
080 It’s all in the mind : Pretense
Pretense
Why talk, when the talks are superficial?
Such a waste of your voice.
Wouldn’t you prefer silence than the pretense?
Why meet, when your presence gives goose flesh?
Such a waste of your time.
Wouldn’t you prefer solitude than the pretense?
Why see, when your heart cringes at the sight?
Such a waste of your sight.
Wouldn’t you prefer to be out of sight than the pretense?
Why try, when you know one can’t clap with a single hand?
Such a waste of your emotion.
Wouldn’t you prefer detachment than the pretense?
~The End~
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
FINDINGTHEVOICES 