The last Queen~ Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

The last queen’ by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni might be the most prided book ever written on Indian heritage. It narrates the tale of Rani Jindan, the daughter of the Royal Kennel Keeper who grew on to be Maharaja Ranjit’s Singh youngest and beloved queen. Her unmatched valour , keen eyed and her love for Punjab are the prime elements of her character. She was barely eighteen when she was married to the Sarkar’s sword embodied with jewels. The Sarkar, Ranjit Singh himself was engaged in political affairs. After the Sarkar’s death she became Queen Reagent, her son Dalip barely six.
‘I am Rani Jindan, Mother of the Khalsa. That is my identity. That is my fate.’

Nightmares keep coming to her when Jawahar, her brother whom she loved so dearly is exterminated by the Panches in accusation of murder. The British arrive to snatch everything from the Queen Reagent. Her palace, her Punjab, her estates and even her small son. She is told to be the ‘ Messalina of Punjab’ and the ‘ She devil’. She is pensioned of and sent to exile seperated from her son. She escapes and travels barefooted to Nepal until more than a decade. However mother and son unite.
The story is a parable of love and betrayal and highlights the indestructible bond between Rani Jindan and her son Dalip Singh. Her love for Hindustan and predominantly Punjab is something which instills the spirit of the book.
Rani Jindan was in sooth braver than the ‘lion of Punjab’ having cast off her veil and directed the Khalsa directly. Chitra Banerjee writes to draft the happening and crafts to make the readers visualise.
As Shabana Azmi quotes , The last queen is an unforgettable story about the fearless, much feared queen whom history seems to have forgotten. Jindan is heroic. Her strength and spirit is a lesson for us.

Jindan kaur also has the spirit of nationalism indoctrinated in her. Although she was exiled and her allowance is meagre she helps in the cause of Indian freedom fighters aiding them with weapons and ammunition and is glad when Tantia Tope, Begum Hazrat and Jhansi ki Rani rise in revolt. She convinces Jung Bahadur to grant asylum to Begum Hazrat Mahal and her son.

She is an embodiment of high cultural values. Her kismat has already spoken . She is the Mother of the Khalsa, Queen Reagent and mother of the Maharaja. She is Rani Jindan Kaur .

The last queen

Rebecca~ Daphne Du Maurier

Daphne Du Maurier is classed as a romantic novelist, her stories have been described as “moody and resonant” with overtones of the paranormal. In her most renowned novel ‘ Rebecca’ this has always surfaced.
‘Last night I dreamt I went to Manderly again’
Manderly , was always a destination of its own. The majestic building with its two wings. And then there was her cottage, her Happy valley. Rebeccas cottage. She had furnished it. The vases in the morning room which were so prided, her office and the rose gardens were all hers. She had to meet her fate howsover. She died a painful death, or so was believed when a body was found on a shore the night after she went missing.
Maximilian de Winter , her husband himself confirmed so. He married a year after to a maiden in Monte Carlo. The new Mrs de Winter. Although Rebecca is no more she is always there
In each chapter and in each syllable. Everyone adored her but mainly Mrs. Danvers who she called Danny, their househelp. Apart from the main leads and plots in the novel, the character I find the most complex and strong would be Mrs. Danvers. She had the guts to threaten the new Mrs. De Winter for taking the place of her old mistress. Rebecca was a perfect mixture. Skinny and tall with little feet hiding a gross manipulative character. The menu which Mrs. De Winter was required to sign, the coat she wore, the letters she had to write were all hers. Even in her room Everything was as it was the night she died. Her slippers under the bed, her dressing gown and her combs on the table. Everything seems to be going fine until Rebeccas body is found in a boat by a local diver. Suspicions arise. Was it Suicide or brutal murder.The prime reason why I loved the book was Daphne’s way of describing every incident in detail. The book is enthralling and exceedingly pleasing. One can deal with the living but never come face to face with the deceased.Descriptions are very well portrayed and the plot is beyond word. For a minute I wished I could be there in the rose garden or below the chestnut tree sipping a cup of evening tea. In every scenario Rebecca’s presence is felt and then the hysterical temper of her cousin and lover Jack Favell.
The thing I find a little overwhelming would be the book coming to an open end. I wish I could presume what happened Mr. De Winter, the master of the famous Manderly. But all good things in life have to come to an end. And so did this novel. Loved every ounce of it. Another sweet pie amidst a bunch of cakes. A sweet fiction

Rebecca

Exit game~ Vidit Chopra

‘Exit game’ by Vidit Chopra is a distinctive read especially for the teachnological era. The book is written in a lucid language and is very engaging. It talks about Captivate Tech, a company known to have created a perfectly stimulated reality. Everybody is known to have known the logo of the company from a child learning a language to an old man in his death bed. The voice behind the company , Genie hides behind a digital Avatar. No-one doubts his intentions even when a 14 year old breaks into school with a gun confusing fictional VR with reality. It is upto Ahmed to unravel the conundrum.
Exit Game holds a message for all the people engaged it the Virtual world. People cannot go on mixing facts with fiction or there is no exit in this game of life.
The novella is engaging and deals with scientific fiction. It provides a vision of a world wherein we are all controlled by machines we ourselves created. Tech companies proclaim to take humanity to the future but all they claim is our health and our lives. Recommend this novella for a short evening read!

The four winds ~ Kristin Hannah

Hope is a coin I carry’
Elsa Martinelli was too much of everything. She was too skinny and too pale. Her parents had no love for the child and disregarded her. When she finally found the life she yearned for, a family and a home the winds threaten. It is one of the darkest periods of the Great depression: The dust Bowl era. The fields are dry and yeilds low. There is little revenue. All they can afford is dresses made from flour sacks. Rafe Martinelli taught his daughter Loreda to dream. Gave her the wings she yearned for. She could be anything in America. No. Not everything. Not during this time. And then one day in the middle of the night he leaves her yearning. He does not want to be found. Anthony , Elsinore’s youngest child can’t survive with the dust storms any longer. He might die. Elsa is compelled to take the most agonizing decision. Leave the land she loved the most and head to California to give her children a better life. They have no choice but to be a part of the okies. The condition of living is meagre. 80 cents for a hundred pounds of cotton. Not even a dollar. The novel is compelling and rich. A Journey in which the future holds uncertain. The four winds. The cause for the journey.
Enriching, ‘The Four Winds’ by Kristin Hannah is like the second version of the Immortal ‘Gone with the wind’. Hunger for survival surfaces as the prime motive for both. The cotton fields. The children.
The bond between mother and child is powerful and well portrayed by Kristin Hannah. It is not easy to comprehend but it is pure and heart touching. The hunger for survival surfaces through the novel. Elsinore must feed her children. They must lead the life they yearned for. She discovers her voice at the most agonizing of times. It comes from the same pale and skinny woman who regarded herself so lowly. Once again Kristin Hannah touches several hearts in her latest book.
Love.
Survival.
Sacrifice.
‘Hope is a coin I carry bestowed to me by myself’

The four winds

©divtales

Death on the Nile~ Agatha Christie

For Linnet Ridgeway, a 20 year old lady life has always been a bed of roses. She is left with enormous wealth ever since her father’s death. People consider her to be a combination of both beauty and brains and she is always considered with high regards. She marries Simon Doyle, the man engaged to her best friend Jacqueline de Bellefort. The newly married couple sail to the Nile on honeymoon and in course of events tragedy struck’s. She is horridly fired on the head in the middle of the night. It is a well planned and accurately timed murder. Following her two more untimely deaths occur. However there are no pieces of evidences. Not one cigarette butt, smoke ash nor a piece of hair, lipstick, nothing.
Agatha Christie is known for her engaging mysterious novels. She is known to be the ‘Queen of Crime’. In Death of the Nile she portrays Hercule Poirot, a well reputed detective to use his wit and intuition to once again solve a mind rattling case. To sum it all up, the book sentimentally hooks up it’s readers to another mystery unravelled by Hercule Poirot.

Metamorphosis~ Franz Kafka

‘Metamorphosis’ by Franz Kafka has been proclaimed as one of the most seminal works of the twentieth century. The novella revolves around alienation and existentialism. The protagonist here is Gregor Samsa. He wakes up one morning from his troubled dreams only to find himself transformed into a horrible vermin. His sister Grete does look after him for a short time and then betrays him. She cannot consider a vermin as her brother and decides to get rid of him. Mr. and Mrs. Samsa refuse to even have a glimpse of his face.
Franz Kafka has grown popularity after his works were published after his death. He was always treated differently by his father, a self made business man because he wrote stories. He was forced into clerical office work and thus a sense of paradoxical whims always lured around. At a point of his life he even contemplated suicide because even his sister was of the opinion that he should go to the office at eve. Two months later Kafka wrote Grete’s betrayal on Gregor. I personally loved journeying through this ravishing novella. It was a reflection through Kafka’s own life which made it very personal and heart touching. Wish six stars ever existed.

Metamorphosis

©divtales

All the light we cannot see~ Anthony Doerr

Open your eyes and see what you can with them before they close forever’
The book is a page turner and is beautifully penned down. The protagonist here is a sixteen year old girl, blind since a young age. Everyone considers Marie to be brave from when she lost her eyesight to when her father left her. She’s self reliant and strong owing to the miniature of Paris model her father had made for her. She would feel the smooth and rough surfaces and find her way through the city. Marie Laurie le Blanc and her father take refuge against the Nazis in Paris. Her father Daniel le Blanc works at a national museum safeguarding invaluable small stones. She is destined to encounter Werner Pfennig a German orphan who becomes a soldier after fixing a radio. Anthony Doerr through his own way of touching several hearts and engaging them at the same time in ‘All the Light we cannot see’.
Would definitely recommend this bittersweet moving novel.

‘The Archer’ ~ Paulo Coelho

” Never hold back from firing the arrow if all that paralyzes you is the fear of making a mistake”
Once again, Paulo Coelho touches several souls in his book ‘ The Archer’. Elaborating on the mastery of Archer , he crafts a masterpiece on how to master life- hitting the target with the bow and arrow. It is not always hitting a good accurate shot but the soul being involved in the shot and with absolute peace of mind. In the book we meet Tetutsya who was once well renowned for his archery but has now retired and is a carpenter. He has disappeared in the eyes of the world. A boy asks him to teach Archery. Tetutsya says that he could teach it to him all within an hour but it is he who needs to practice it day and night. It is through Tetutsya’s teachings we come across the aspects of risk, the allies, how to overcome fear, steadfastness and many more. After all we all are archers striving to hit the target not knowing what to do with the bow after the arrow has been shot. ‘ Serenity comes from the heart although the heart is often tormented by thoughts of insecurity, it knows that through correct posture it will be able to do it’s best.’
The book has bewildering illustrations by Christoph Niemann which sets the books to its tone. Love the book! Will proclaim it to be a must read for philosophy lovers

The Archer

© divtales

A tale

She sat by the side of the road letting the wind caress her gentle countenance. She was too wary to walk any further and waited for her limo to come pick her. She was sixty years old and today was her last day at work. She sat pleasantly clad in the most expensive Prada pleasantly going down memory lane.


Kamalini was no ordinary child. Curious at heart she was diagnosed with epilepsy at the age of six. Her friends would bully her and her grades would oft be down. She felt hated. Her parents, both of whom were working could not afford to spend much time with her. Kamalini would continuously gaze at the sky empty mindedly. Little did she know that her sadness would slowly push her to face the world and be where she stood today. She had slowly mastered what she were to do during a seizure and didn’t bother about it much. Her parents worked hard but the one thing they couldn’t give her was their time.She would remember those days when they all had wonderful time together with their grandparents. But one fine day a turning point dawned in front of her. She discovered an app. She would listen to their stories all day long. She felt contended. Over time she started writing her own compilation of stories. The first one didn’t make any sales but her second book turned to be a bestseller.


Kamalini today stands at the top pedestal of the literary world. Her books have been published world wide and she is also the chief editor of the life Times. Take every step and every moment in life as a blissful opportunity. You never know when the flower might bloom out from the rusty gravel.

Happy Waggentines

An angel was bestowed to me once
An angel who was my sister to become!
A cordial courteous soul
A blessing very few would withhold!

A love never came so pure and fresh
With tiny whiskers and a foul breath,
With four tiny paws that would loiter all day around
And would make you clear of all your despondency with a sloppery tongue

Oh! How your mirth blossoms my heart
How your very faint bark puts a shrill to my nerves

The tantrums you throw,
The rounds you make me do ,
The games we play ,
The licks on my face,
And the joy they bring to my once pessimistic face


You are the one I cherish
Don’t you ever forget that!
And whenever you need me,
I shall always cater to you with a treat in one hand


I love you my waggentine and it shall always be like that!

~ To : Buchki
Love your big sis❤️

A Christmas wish


The year hath dawned,

The season of mirth set in

And The lord hath come

To see our lost goodwill.

Lights ornamented,

Gloomy streets lit up,

The tree in bloom awaited by all

Relinquishes baked and hats on heads

We prepare for Christmas day

To sing and laugh as we have forevermore done

And make merry and rejoice as we had once done

But mentored are we yet not

By Thy holy faith

To shun our prejudices by our disgrace

To learn and perceive grow and nurture

Souls so lost

So we pray and pray

 Let this all pass

Let men roam free

In a world so hurt

Let the cheer once again ring in thou ears

 Let men sing carols as they had once done

And confide in lord shall we all 

For he is thy hope

And he is thy who shall guide

Save us oh lord.,

And The Mountains Echoed

Delved into one of the most beautiful books, And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hoessini yesterday night. I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed the book although some parts of it seemed missing. It was as if there lacked an emotional connect , the one you usually get in classics and the later. The novel sets in the small village of Sadbhagh in Afghanistan. Two siblings separated as children reunite as mid aged people yet the bond remains undeterred.
I know a sad little fairy beneath the shade of a paper tree
I know a sad little fairy who was blown away by the wind one night
Their mother who had died earlier used to sing to them this Farsi verse which still lingered onto their hearts. The tin box wherein Abdullah would bring Pari numerous feathers and she would collect them. Through each part of the book, Hoessini goes on introducing us to a whole different set of characters and that evokes the whole charm of this novel.
Khaled Hoessini is truly a gifted teller of tales… He’s not afraid to pull every string in your heart to make it sing- the times

The lost abode

You spoil me !
Shatter my soul ,
Stifle and stab me to death ….
My foliage was once a velvety green ,
The cockatoos sung tunes of rejoice
The men danced and loitered about
And many a new born cried .
The glistening dewdrops then fell from the trees
And fruits held a tender shine
But then what happened next put a start to crime.
The men I had hosted started razing down me
They built humongous structures
And I was forced to flee …
But then one day the Almighty
Bestowed me a gift .
The ragamuffins were put into a cage
Utterly it took them quite a long
To realise that they had done me so wrong .
And soon began planting down some greens
Beautiful daisies and some tender beans
Time had already fleeced by and art was long to do
But soon the chimes were heard again
And cater cousins we grew

©divtales

Hope

The fiery gleam
Of Phoebus’s snare,
The breezy air
Gently moving away a tuft of hair
The velvety green
Parched across the sun
All this he desires but gets but none
Days o what days have become
A box of just cement and mud
Painted in hues of white
Worth a billion mines
“O! When shall we overcome?” Is the question now
Our faiths in a heap of dust
Mouths and hands free but none
All covered up in sane junk
We pray and pray
To the Allmighty host
Who was once our only hope
And by hoping thus is our only scope
To overcome the clutches of the evil one
All we need now is
Hope and only Hope!

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Books and just books

A room without books is like a body without a soul

Cicerio

Books are a place of solace in this ever bustling world. They provide one a place of comfort and an immense pleasure. An cozy afternoon beside the window sill with a book and a cup of coffee in hand- sheer bliss . Books take one to that unimaginable parallel world. So in this post of mine I thought to share some books which are an absolute must read. Also do check out my poem Ode to books.

1. Girl on the train – Paula Hawkins

2. And then there were none – Agatha Christie

3. The Great Alone – Kristin Hannah

4. The Nightangle – Kristin Hannah

5. Gone with the wind – Margaret Mitchell

6. The Alchemist – Paulo Coelho

7. The Book thief – Markus Zusak

8. The witch of Portebelo – Paulo Coelho

9. The monk who sold his Ferrari – Robin Sharma

10. Rebecca – Daphne du Maurier

11. Jamaica Inn – Daphne du Maurier

12. Brida – Paulo Coelho

13. The Merchant of Venice – William Shakespeare

14. Hamlet – William Shakespeare

What’s your favourite book? Don’t forget to write it in the comments below!

©Divtales

Gratitude

You guide me
Take me to the foothills of time
I lay on a moon blanched land
And you hold my tiny hands tight
My body shirks, aweary of the great world
You console me, push me further
Taking my hand
I lay like but a tot
Gently observing and pursuing
Capturing the words and painting my own
Peering through maps and voyaging my own
Seeing great miracles of past kings – their pride and valour being a mere spectacle
Oh how does the human body work?
And how great was Newton a man!!!
Weren’t Bohr and Bury great enough
A massive problem they solved!!
All this I wonder and imagine much more…. ..
Equations ravel up left to untie the knots
Great books are yet unexplored
Words left yet to caress
And a thing yet to be said
To that person who mentored me
Told me things that left me flabbergasted and baffled
Things I never knew existed
And made me what I am today.
How would I ever express my gratitude!
That my solemn heart demands be said
Thank you teacher,
For all your kindness, hardwork and dedication,
For all the faith you bestowed upon me,
For all that motivation words fall short to describe___
Happy teacher’s day..

An act of Bravery- The Kargil Girl

1974, Guwahati. The maze of serpented roads led to small village wherein was born a girl, destined to achieve something prodigious one day. One who would not only break free from the shackles of prejudice but would show her gallantry and emerge victorious in her deeds. Yes, it was a ‘she’- a strong woman. Flight lieutenant Gunjan Saxena was a former helicopter pilot and an Indian Airforce officer. Often known as the ‘Kargil Girl’ she was a Kargil veteran and is officially one of the first woman to fight in the Kargil war. The oxford dictionary defines the word ‘courage’ as the ability to do something that frightens one. Courage may also be defined as an audacity to face the unknown with sheer grit, merit and valour and in Gunjan Saxena we find both. 

Ever since a small child the sky enthralled her. Since a tender age she held an aspiration. She would be a pilot. In the 1900’s not much freedom was entitled to women. It was considered to be a man’s world then. This is quite ironic in the modern context for most of the pre-eminent people we strive to be today are all fair ladies, be them writers, environment activists, authors, and the list hithers on. Gunjan’s mother always vehemently opposed to this being a typical of the Indian society. Her brother an army officer did no good in raising her spirits. He would decimate her, tell her that she needed to be safe and support the family but his words brought no heed. Gunjan’s father would always be in her favour. After completing her Bachelor of Science degree in Anthropology she head forth to get her admission as a pilot. Saxena came from an Indian burgherdom and therefore couldn’t afford her dream career. Utterly miserable and dumbfounded on what would the next day dawn to she recalls on having felt dejected all night. She woke up to her father holding a Newspaper article. The IAF had been for the first-time recruiting women. That’s where her journey started. 

She was the sole woman to be chosen for the air force and was well qualified however she was an overweight. With utter grit and determination and support by her father within a week the issue was resolved and she set forth of changing one of the dimensions of history. In the first weeks she seemed to have landed on a moon-blanched land with no one having had confound her. She now understood what the phrase of a ‘man’s world’ meant. Her sorties would be frequently cancelled, she would be given the title of a weak, her briefings would oft never happen and so on all because she was a woman. In a fit she had even once left the campus and signed her resignation but as a matter of fate her resignation was not accepted. She was trained by the head of the army and within a few weeks she was in the lead of her peers. In 1999, she was asked to go to fight the Kargil war. Even her brother was situated at war. He told her that he could not save her every time. Initially Gunjan was refrained from venturing as it was considered ‘dangerous’. However, the Pakistani troops had been peering in Kargil and all the IAF officers were in their sorties. Two helipads had gone out the first had the head officers and in the second were Gunjan and her teammate. On the way a few troops were spotted and the shooting started. One bullet hit the first chopper and it collapsed. Gunjan was ordered to come back but she had to save her mentors and she made her way to Kargil. She would go on to be part of operations to evacuate over 900 troops, both injured and deceased. In 2004, after serving as a pilot for eight years, her career as a helicopter pilot ended; the concept of permanent commission for women was not there during her time. 

Physical bravery is an instinct while moral bravery is much a higher form of courage. Dream big but true to yourself. Hadn’t if Gunjan dreamed big in life and moved towards her dream with courage and determination she would have been not who she is today. Courage does  not always roar. Sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day murmuring “I’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Poetry Prompts

Poetry Prompts

Art is long and yet within writing poetry shall always rest a place of solace and a rapturous joy not meant to be described. So in this post of mine I wish to inspire the lost personas who have been working hard in unraveling their inner poet. Over here I have summed up only a few. Stay tuned for more poetry prompts on divtales.

#1 Dreams

Effortlessly one of the best poetry prompt dreams is a great topic to write a poem on.

#2 An unknown blow

Now haven’t we all experienced a bitter blow this 2020. The pandemic , schools shut , entertainment zones rendered unavailable all this by a lifeless entity. The poem may not be solely on this. Expand your horizon.

#3 Fate

Fate… So unpredictable… Make your story a poem . However bleak and bitter the plot may be a good poem with lyricals and metaphors always had it backed up.

#4 A thought

One has thousands of restless thoughts with each dawn but are we brave enough to pen it down. Try it yourself!

#5 Mirth

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come and let a good poem lay itself through the footprints of time.

#6 Solace

The prompt is self explanatory. Too personified for someone unknown like me to explain. Think . Think beyond thine own mind.

©®divtales

A Sizzling Summer

The year 2020, mankind received a terrible blow- a blow not willing to refrain. The chinese ‘civilians’ conducted their affairs – perfection and manipulation their key principles. Amidst the very year rose the grounds of racial discrimination. Black men died in the hands of the white. And during that very awful and melancholic year could we see a rise of a major climatic change- the sudden uproar of ultraviolet rays too blinding for humankind to bear. I tell all this and narrate much more not by skill or sheer excellence of world happenings but as a mere spectator utterly dumbfounded and flabbergasted by circumstance.

        20th June, 2020. The sun shone in ever mighty grace – its scorching rays relinquishing greenish blue waters to heaven unknown. Online petitions so far being signed for reducing CFC’s nearly forgotten. It happens in such days that in the air conditioner resides a place of solace and that in cool slushies and beverages a pure bliss. Therefore it had been quite a disappointment for refreshments to be rendered unavailable – a collateral damage due to the ongoing pandemic. It would be much expected for us wherefore to loll all day, the comfort of the sofa looking so pleading and welcoming- the coolers moaning to over usage. My father however after a few groans and bellyaching to himself headed out the door with his black monogram umbrella in order to fetch a few medicines. We understood his plight with ease needless to say he didn’t quite comprehend ours for upon his arrival we were bound to hear how the sun tanned his skin and how the road tar had softened , too swelled up by heat. Pablo, our ever eccentric love , an endearing beagle pup had his water filled every hour and his dollops of drools further weakened our spirits. My mother filled the bird feeder with cool soothing water satisfied of having done her part. Ravens and a few hump necked immbiscle pigeons had by the time in hushed clear tones started their rat race – the remnants of which I had to clear later with utter disgrace and sheer disapproval for the matter. At some time around six in the eve i dared to walk out in aspiration of a brisk walk all covered in PPE’s. The residence bore a haunted eerie look masked under a cool breeze. The hour seemed but not right. It appeared to be noon that i had stepped out but the thought seemed mistaken. The tree foliage had dried up. Birds frothed up our once clean swimming pool. What a negativeness seemed to lay itself on the air which beheld not a child’s laughter nor his cry. Utterly baffled by what the whole scenario , i hastened home.The gleaming sun had been ever a burden on solemn poor souls.A sigh of relief casted itself on return as the sweated clothing were flung forth the foamy machine. What an immense pleasure was it to once again be sheltered abound by luxuries. My ever considerate mother greeted me with some cool refreshing lemonade for media informed her of ascorbic acid being a good defense against the covid 19. All that was now to be awaited on was for the tiresome day to dawn and when it did a weight lifted itself.

                                 Global warming as we witness is no longer a prediction but a thought turning itself to reality at a bamboozling rate. It is with horrifying glances engulfing mankind – an act of a preys revenge. The aggregation of our deeds has furthermore added to the torment. Emission of Greenhouse gases and depletion of natural resources add to the global climatic change. And all we do is remain cocooned by such a polluted environment in hopes of receiving no blow which is but no distant fantasy. All we pray is for you to join the green mission. To save not only thyself but the entire world. Be a saviour. Seize the chance!

UNVEIL

Unveil the hood thee encave into
unveil the joys thee withholdeth
unveil the buckler thee emb onto
and alloweth the tale beest toldeth
unveil the narrow walls of caste and cre’d
shuning all the exsufflicate gre’d
unveil the depths of mind
alloweth the expressions floweth
alloweth the w’rds beest did cast upon
refraining an evil bloweth
unveil a landeth thee nev’r kneweth
beest a creat’r thee f’rev’r withheld within thee
unveil a smileth so needy
alloweth someone shineth
unveil a favour saintly
and blessings beest showeth’r’d upon thee
god blesseth in unveil’r
a veil’d et’rnal soul  
a soul showcasing mankind
deeds of a lifetime
and the journey of life being toldeth

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