Disdain

The blackbird swooped down, its eyes gleaming with condescension, and carved the frosty night with its prowess and agility. The glacial mist was sliced by a pair of outstretched wings, into arcs that mirrored the shape of the crescent moon. Diving and dancing, entirely heedful of the envious glares of the other birds that assailed it, the blackbird glided with the breeze, in an almost tantalizing manner. Nearly blending in with the inky sky, it was faintly lit up by the flickering lamps of the nearby house, and by the weakly twinkling stars.
A minute later there was a clatter, and an excited squeal. A girl of no more than five came darting out of her house, with her mother trailing behind her, mildly astonished.
"Oh, look!" the girl exclaimed, her eyes brimming with pleasure. "Look at that bird! Look at how it's flying." Her angular fingers perfectly traced the path of the blackbird, as if amazed that any creature could perform such an enthralling accomplishment.
By then, the blackbird was beginning to realize that it had a very admiring audience. Delighted, it threw itself into its flight, descending mere inches above the ground before spinning up into the sky, until it was only a minuscule speck that was lost in the night. As it elicited gasps of wonder from the little girl, its eyes glittered with all the more disdain, and it threw contemptuous glances to its fellow, subordinate blackbirds.
Unable to bear the blackbird's patronizing visage, a mass of birds abandoned the branch upon which they had been perched, and soared into the sky. Within a few seconds, the blackbird was lost amid a flurry of feathers, although it fruitlessly strived to detach itself from the crowd. However, the girl's awe had vanished, only to be placed with mild fear and surprise. Screaming, the child ran back into her home, shocked by the sheer number of birds that had remained hidden while she had been gaping at only one.
The blackbird struggled and grappled to distinguish itself from the wall of black, upset that it had lost its only onlooker. Exhausted and dispirited, it retired to a lone branch, and forlornly watched the performance that the other birds were putting up for it. Warming itself against the leaves, the blackbird, faintly illuminated by the moon, gloomily waited for the spectacle to cease, not caring to defend itself against the haughty looks that came its way.

Nightly Appearances

Indefinitely extending layers of sand,
caressed and fashioned by the ocean's hand-
a silken, smooth, darkened plane
embedded by the crystalline, sweeping grains,
where the dimmed waters converge with the land

The night is hushed, a mirrorlike lake-
barely a ripple, barely a break
A sailing boat rests upon its waters of glass,
nothing can stir its tranquil waters, nothing to pass,
the lake remains dormant at night, never to wake

Pouring waters, cascading falls
creating an impenetrable, nightly wall
of the faint shimmers of midnight, surging foam
billowing out to form a frosty dome
whose eeriness can hypnotize, whose sight can enthrall

Perhaps the most captivating occurrence at night-
the rare dancing of the northern lights
Against the backdrop of the sky- dazzling hues
from amethyst, ranging to azure blue,
can send spirits soaring to untold heights

They hurtle down, like incandescent rain-
ignited, swooping, showering grains
that form a parallel to a drizzle of fire
whose existence, sadly, swiftly tires
But until that time- nighttime radiance reigns

The night is so silent, but never dark,
for it is lit up by a belt of sparks,
a crystal clear phenomenon, so very far,
spiraling galaxies, slashes of stars
that cut through the darkness to form an illuminated arc

A sinister sight- deathly pale,
enveloping the night in a luminous veil
The moon hangs, powerful, for in her domain
despite the gloom, its light it can retain
the shadow of the night, it ably impales

She Painted...

Under a tree in the autumn glow,
a crisp, enlivening breeze commencing its blow,
she stood armed with an easel, paper, a brush,
on her cheeks etched an ardent flush

She painted the journey of the growing trees,
she caught the movement of the swirling leaves
that danced in the wind, whirled in the breeze,
she painted her feelings, never to cease

She painted the motion of the billowing clouds,
that governed the sky- complacent and proud
The soft colors of autumn- they would shroud,
whilst she painted her emotions, burgeoning and loud

She painted the hills- a stunning sight,
its peaks seasonally crowned by a blanket of white,
that thawed with the heat, shimmered in the night-
an embodiment of her fervor that shone with its might

She painted the affection, she painted the care
of the creatures with whom the world she shares-
their excursions, their pleasure- instances so rare,
she painted her spirit for which she treasured a flair

She painted her sentiments well into the day,
other matters of importance would be kept at bay
She honed her love in an individual, unique way,
she painted until the sun had exhausted its rays

Retaliation

Published in the literary journal 'Nature Writing'

She stood smoldering with rage
in her tucked away cave,
sending magic in spells and many a wave...

Winds of the universe, winds of the world-
culminate, and let your energy unfurl
Flow through the skies, flow through the trees
come to be more than a slight, gentle breeze
Calm, lapping seas of the ocean-
deluge the coast, set your power in motion
Humans have killed dear nature's charm-
annihilated something so innocent, so very unarmed
For we are the very reason life exists,
and we ought to retaliate, we must resist
We shall show them that we aren't weak and frail
and will sit back helpless- we must derail
their uncharted progress that will shatter our world,
we cannot be deferred and let their might unfurl
So, churning, frothing, violent seas- rise
abandon the earth, and reach for the skies
Clouds so white, pellucid- renounce your beauty,
turn black and incensed- do your duty
And rain- transcend your state of being a pleasant shower-
unleash your potential, portray your concealed power
to those ungrateful humans who think they know all,
who bask in our disintegration, our untimely downfall
Who have felled our trees, our virtuous plants-
clemency and forgiveness we cannot grant
Who have turned the blue planet into one of dust,
whose viridescent hues can now compare to rust,
whose pure, sapphire shades have been subjected to taint,
whose ambience has long gone lost its aura so quaint
So now we reciprocate, now we respond,
we were wrong- humans and nature never shared a bond
They razed our world, we shall raze theirs,
we shall lay their sphere of modernity broken and bare
Thus, forces- harmonize, operate as a team,
let us ascend in our own esteem
I am at the end of my strength, so please obey-
make the humans dance to your tune, create your own fray
So, ensure that your competence and power unfurl,
so in a century, nature will thrive in a much better world

Shaking with fatigue, wincing with pain,
the old witch lay down, her power completely drained
Taking her last breath, closing her eyes,
she deemed her decision as appropriate and wise

Dilemma

It was amid a copse of verdant trees,
nestled away in faraway place
where hope blew like the bracing breeze
in a remote corner of mother nature's face

Upon the rolling hills and dales
beyond the gurgling, sparkling streams,
by following the convoluted, swampy trails
there exists a cottage abounding with dreams

Dreams that never dwindle with time
in actuality, grow till their size is sheer
Tired of planting herbs- lemongrass and thyme
jaded of harvesting crops- livelihood so mere

For she is youthful, capable and very bright,
the greenery, the tarns- everything screams
at her to finally enter the light,
to go to town, and pursue her dream

However, her helpless family, she must not leave,
leave them to fend in the acres of field,
by her heedful emotions, she ably deceives-
her aspirations that have not yet keeled

She sat at the crest of her hillock one day,
at the thick mist- eyebrows knitted in a frown,
but then the clouds parted and cleared the way
for her to catch sight of the enticing town

As the spectral night began to fall,
the hill was promptly plunged in the dark,
in her mind formed an unforeseen resolve-
that despite the night, had lit a spark

So for the first time, she left her home,
primed to see the world through new eyes,
apprehensive of her unprecedented roam-
she would be back before the sun would rise

The Pinnacle

Rising to towering heights
growing since prehistoric ages,
like castles of primeval times
that handle the changes of a growing world,
still retaining their grandeur and might,
but devoid of design and organization
innately established, yet flawless in pattern
They collect the cascading crystals,
careening from the clouded sky-
becoming smoother, fewer indentations,
more treacherous for explorers to climb
Countless have dared to venture forth
to subdue nature's most potent edifice,
battling surges of snow, pyramids of rocks
glaciated valleys, sheets of shattered ice...
Blanketed by a cover of silvery mist
unfazed by the bitter wind that rushes past
with a summit comprised of pristine snow flurry
is the lofty prestige of mountains
unflustered by the passage of time-
a pinnacle of glory
nature's power having amassed

Artist

She sits herself on her piano grand,
with glittering, soulful, fervent eyes
that make her view an idealistic land
that conceals the world with its artful guise

She gently smiles at the striking tune,
she sways as she unearths its true nuance,
her spirits tell she's over the moon
although she seems to be in a satiated trance

Her cheeks incarnadine from pure passion,
her fingers trembling slightly from sheer thrill
at being able to express her emotions in her own fashion-
through tones, reverberation and many a trill

She savors each moment and every note,
with a grace and ardor so very intrinsic
Her unwavering vehemence seems to devote
every second of her time to the art of music

When she ends with a flourish and a hesitant smile
she rises rather dubiously, and stands
oblivious to the applause of her enthralling style,
she remains landlocked in her visionary land

This Above All- to thine own self be true

This is what I wrote for an essay writing competition, on the topic 'To thine own self be true'

The quote ‘To thine own self be true’ is the piece of wisdom given by Polonius to his son Laertes in the play ‘Hamlet’, written by William Shakespeare. Polonius tells this to his son before the latter is leaving for Paris, and cautions him to avoid borrowing or lending money, to listen more than talk, and to avoid bringing excessive attention to himself. Although bits of enlightened wisdom, in the following context, these words become articles of irony and satire. Polonius proves to be a suspicious father, sending people to surveil his son and daughter, Ophelia.

While satirical in the context of the play, there is actually a very deep meaning hidden under the layers of pretentiousness by which Polonius conducts himself. To be true to yourself is to act in conformity with your nature, ideals and beliefs with which you live, and to refrain from partaking of self-deception. It means having the valor to accept who you are, and not entirely heed to the suggestions of others, thinking you will be accepted or admired if you do. Self- esteem and dignity all arise when you behave in a manner that reflects your values and personality, and self-doubt arises when you don’t. In addition, when you respect yourself, so will society- they will regard you as confident and assured of your opinions and views; this is a trait not seen much in today’s community.  

Examples of being true to oneself are eminent in literature. One example is in the story ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ by Harper Lee- Scout Finch. Being a young, unusually thoughtful girl, she has nurtured her individuality, moral sense and perception, without being pressurized by the social hypocrisies that afflict her town. On the first day of school, although Scout is castigated and victimized by her teacher’s incompetence for being able to read and write at such a young age, she adheres to her principles, and does not refrain from doing so in order to please her teacher. She continues reading and improving her skills, without giving her teacher any more thought, despite incurring her anger several times. To be true to yourself takes courage, and requires you to be inward-looking, just and sincere. It does not imply that you are uncivil or disrespectful, it simply means that you do not let others define your standards or your decisions.

Similarly, in the novel ‘The Little Prince’ by Antoine de Saint- Exupery, the narrator had been a child with a different perception and mindset when compared to the conventional way of thinking. This insight did not leave him in adulthood, and was a major reason of his isolation from the prevailing crowd. Rather than looking at the monetary or objective side, he would look at the imaginative, instinctive part. Rather than taking an ordinary occupation, he decided to follow his passion and become a pilot who embarked on adventurous conquests. Although this trait of his detached him from society, he lived by it, and preserved his uniqueness and originality. The narrator revered his own opinions, and refused to change in order to blend in with the widespread populous. He was true to himself.

Straying away from literature, another typical example is that of Walt Disney- American director, animator and producer. He made up his own mind regarding his career and interests, and recognized and almost solely developed his distinctive talents, which have culminated into the touching Disney films every generation sees today. Despite the fact that he faced enough hardships to make anyone revert back to the ordinary, he adhered to his tenets of being singular and noteworthy, and made a massive difference to the world. He faced incessant problems within his family, experienced bankruptcy that threatened his entire profession, and had nearly verged on a nervous breakdown. While the difficulties and debts he brought upon himself during World War 2 compelled him to abandon his career and creative pursuits, he followed his admirable value system of willpower and resolution, and continued directing and cartooning, nevertheless. Although he had been a figure of ridicule by his peers during childhood, and by critics for the rest of his life, he never let their deprecating criticism sway his code of life or his decisions. He demonstrated honesty and genuineness in the face of adversity- highly laudable characteristics that make him an epitome of morality to oneself.

The drawbacks of not being true to yourself can prove to be adverse, as seen in the story ‘Great Expectations’ by Charles Dickens. Pip, the protagonist, was naturally sympathetic, benevolent and possessed a naturally good conscience from childhood. However, shortly after meeting the beautiful maiden Estella and her step mother Miss Havisham, Pip’s longing for educational and social advancement overshadowed his natural integrity. After being the receptor of a perplexing fortune, his utopian desires had been fulfilled, and he gave himself to learning to be a gentleman in London. This idealism of rising up the social hierarchy led him to perceive the world narrow mindedly, and to forget those who loved him the most- his sister’s husband and Biddy. He began to treat them coldly and indifferently, only to be crushed by loneliness and dejection in the later stages of his life. In this case, Pip had not been true to himself- he had let his desires of betterment demolish his individuality, and had succumbed to the thought of escaping poverty and illiteracy. His disparaging actions towards his family had not reflected his genuine self, and had only resulted in him being miserable as he had shunned whatever had been attainable to him.


Therefore, you must be true to the best that exists in your nature, and live your life undeviating from your aspirations and conscience. We just need to be silent enough to listen to ourselves without judgment, and enduring enough to accept the truth once we envision it. Being true to yourself is necessary to gain self-acceptance, and thus Polonius’s quote- ‘this above all: To thine own self be true’, rings with undeniable truth.