Ozymandias Photo by Abhineet Chute — National Geographic Your Shot

Ozymandias Photo by Abhineet Chute — National Geographic Your Shot

20 seconds THUG LIFE.

Nature through Compound eyes. Photo by Abhineet Chute — National Geographic Your Shot

Nature through Compound eyes. Photo by Abhineet Chute — National Geographic Your Shot

Underground

Blow at the elbow wakes me up, as they pass by

Stingy eyes under the hood over the cloak;

Droplets on my nose divide coincidences and indications

And the lightning struck as in my brain a war broke.

A bump on the front charioteer whirls me back

To the path I was running for a place to lurk

And unmask the yellow alerts hidden inside,

Before I open my eyes and get up with a jerk.

I’m splashing on puddles, piercing in halves 

Maybe the shivers of soily water keep me all ears;

Enter the tunnel called ‘Underground’ in my hometown

And I breeze into the darker side as the guide disappears.

The seventy yards of cover act seventy hours long

Each seed of suspicion slows every second down;

Echoes of horns paint the inner sheath of shadows,

The ones that creep through the carts around.

Indications find the heavier side of the balance.
It gets darker as I go deeper towards culmination;

Suddenly my wrists tighten and I stop at brakes, 

As I jump out of the Underground of my cogitation.

Freshmen in the Town | Our Experiments with Truth 

The grandest IIT campus is buzzing with bright faces emanating innocence and curiosity. As the latest batch prepares itself to adapt the legendary KGP life, TFPS decided to randomly pick some freshmen and bombard them with questions about their expectations from this campus. In addition, we interviewed some senior year students as well, in order to keep a check on ground reality. ;)

Surreal reality

Saw a thin fume of carbon
Climbing the dusk;
Chains of children
Marching down the hill
To mount to the fire
That blazed on the mountain
Within no blink
Torching the twilight.
Led the groaning villagers
Following the dark
Until I found myself alone.
Grassy the entrance
Brought me between graves
With fog blurring the lamps
Turning murky my way.
My memory plunges to a scene
I was being hunted
By the princess, I'm haunted
Night faded away
Was on a railway trolley
On a fragile rail;
Bridged upon an ocean
Trying to outpace a tiger
Huge as an elephant
Sent by the princess.
Dodged a crack on the track
Poor, the animal failed
And splash, the water spilled.
He begged for help
And I was confused again,
Relating my dreams
To my surreal reality.

Under the hood

Silent under the hood, I may seem,
Looking stupid, rejecting them
Who expect me to be former as they pass by.

I see my image on a late-lightened phone call.
Blindfolded, I sip everything liquid.
And they then put upon wrong clues
The dark secluded conclusion
Never concludes.

Lately, merely words are obsession
Actions, misleading indications
That may always make sense.
Whole day, my mind is grabbed
Wicked weeks, murdering months,
For an unimportant, under-enthusiastic catch up.
Being ignored over betrayal is disrespect.
And to lie, hiding tears in your heart,
Being hypocritically happy.
Do I exist Or I merely exist?

My pen scribbles it rough, still.
It's not as old as my mind.
I may not put often in white and black
And never by teeth and tongue.
It goes on and on.
For my sake or my bad, I'll never know.