Buddha.
An acrylic painting by Monica Ingudam
Sealed
Captured a beautiful thought,
With all the love,
And all the feelings,
Sealed with every strokes,
With every colors,
And more thoughts.
Draining out with every touch,
And it’s all out, captured and sealed,
In a painting.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
Oh Awakened One,
I know nothing about you,
And yet you call me,
And I know not why,
But a strong call,
Calling me,
Again and again,
To give days,
Try a life without any electronics,
To be in silence,
Without any communication,
Away, far away,
I know not what you want to show,
But I hear you,
I know not when,
But I will come someday.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
S02E09 FindingTheVoices Hotel Management as a career choice
Guest Speaker : Rabi Moirangthem (Student, undergoing Industrial training at London)
Interview Location: London, UK & Washington DC, USA (Phone Interview)
FindingTheVoices brings voices and story that Inspire, Empower, Educate & Entertain us from people all over the world. It is a talk show presented by Monica Ingudam with the vision to promote and spread positive, hopeful, inspiring & entertaining stories in the violence-torn landscape of Manipur.
This is your show to promote your talents & work, share your experiences and voice what you stand for, what you believe in, what you want people to know & talk about.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
Raised within walls of home and school,
Learning to duck and lie flat to avoid being hit by bullets as a child,
Shipped away from home to get continous education,
With dreams of living,
Away from schools with empty benches,
For the students in uniform are protesting on the roads,
Away from kidnappers,
Away from letchers and rapist,
Away from bandhs and blockades,
To be ahead in the survival race,
For many ends up in the hands with sick minds,
Leaving one as a corpse in one’s own land,
With no justice.
Facing the survival race once again,
Gulping humiliations and mockery,
Questioning identity,
Changing wardrobe to blend in,
To avoid dirty looks,
With aching heart filled with homesickness,
With long nights missing home,
Staying low and quiet,
To be ahead in the survival race,
For many ends up in the hands of sick minds,
Leaving one as a corpse,
Corpse sent back in one’s own land,
With no justice.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
Sitting in a standstill traffic,
By the George Washington Parkway,
Watching the Washington monument,
Watching the lone flight in the sky,
Hits me with a pang to be home,
Take me home,
To watch my mother’s morning worship,
To watch my father walking around,
To listen to them fussing over silly matters,
To breathe the same air and see what you see,
To eat the same meal,
To be together,
Just to be with you and you,
Home is where you are,
Oh, how much I miss home,
Take me home.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
One sees the white waves,
Giving one an illusion of pureness,
Blinding and fooling one in close sight,
With such bright white waves,
Luring one to jump in,
As one stood mesmerized,
Unsure of such existence of beauty,
Only to find onself sucked in,
Into the rotten black hole,
Filled with stain, stench and disgust.
An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.
FINDINGTHEVOICES 