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Stop The Mess

on July 10, 2018

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Samiran Chhetri "Priyadarshi"

Name : Som Bahadur Chhetri Literary Name : Samiran Chhetri "Priyadarshi" Born : 04 June 1935 Samiran Chhetri "Priyadarshi" at his residence in Kolabari (2019) Early Life: Born in a small village called Patlaybas (below Singmari), located in the Lush green hills of Darjeeling, West Bengal, India. He spent his early days of his childhood in the same place where was born. Born during the Era of Colonial Kingdom, Samiran went to ST. Michael’s School and then to ST. Roberts to finish his schooling in the year 1954. To Pursue further education, Samiran joined ST. Joseph’s College in the year 1954 as an Arts student. When he was on his 2 nd year of his College, his Father Lt. Bal Bir Chhetri passed away after meeting with an accident. As the days during that time was bit difficult for people in the hills and being the eldest son, Samiran now had the responsibility of his family, which included his mother Lt Karna Maya Chhetri younge...

Stop Judging Me

Could you please stop judging me and listen carefully to my pleas? Just like any other human being, I too want to share my feelings. I tried expressing it a couple of weeks ago, but it seems no one can comprehend the situation I live in. All I got was the same answers and advice which I didn’t need. How can I expect a solution from a person who has never lived in scarcity? You made me what I never dreamt of becoming so, don’t make fun out of me, I can feel the time-shifting its side towards me. Every day I see you clinging on the edges of approvals while I lay unbiased about lies and truth. Everything that has happened to me can’t be all mistakes. My lifestyle doesn’t show my real identity; don’t mistake yourself about my scarcity. I dwell in a world where happiness is more beautiful than richness. Peace cannot be achieved by troubling others and that is why Isolation is my favourite spot.

Unsung Rhymes | Life is like the green grass on the other side

Life is like the grass on the other side In between lies a pool of dirty water where swimming is obligatory Living in the shallow, cross it if you want to believe. The wind that blows towards the south will surely return to the north Every language we learned to communicate is taking us apart I am losing interest in sermons I am losing memories of meanings And it is only poetries I Love Fences and trees, gates and bricks Tell me stories Those hands who laid the stone That water which wanted to meet the ocean But trapped in the ponds slowly losing hopes of survival They yell my name but I am too ignorant Every bullet that has been fired I find meaningless Just not to get hurt they make others suffer Just like the unexpected monsoon breaking the petals Losing my days, I am becoming fragile too And when there is thunder it is the noise that kills me So please talk to me softly When death comes, I’ll be ready Till then let me be me Cause, in the end, everything has to perish Like the won...

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Stop The Mess

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