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For more of my art-works, check out https://www.instagram.com/somanysomyas/

Where the skies are still blue
The trees still sway & soothe

Where the Amazon is still deep & vast
Where wars are a thing of the past

Where nature still inspires awe
We all play, sing, dance and draw

Where man’s word still holds good
Let’s all work together towards
Such carefree childhoods…


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For more of my art-works, check out https://www.instagram.com/somanysomyas/

How often have we felt tongue tied in meetings? Had H.G. Wells been part of a Corporate office, he could have written about ‘The Invisible Man (or Woman)’ sitting in every boardroom meeting.

Often, a lot of us have sensed thoughts circling our heads during the course of a meeting. We keep waiting for the opportune moment to voice them out. We play it out in our minds… maybe even rehearse it. But before we know it, the meeting’s over or worse still: someone else has already made the same point.

Whatever it is — a thought, a question, an…


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For more of my drawings, check out https://www.instagram.com/somanysomyas/

Small everyday things can make a huge impact on our workplaces. Take for instance the way we communicate with each other. We do it all the time and take it for granted.

Especially with remote working practices kicking in, communication has assumed new importance. It is one of those things which can work wonders when done just right. Too much of it or too little of it can wreak havoc in our everyday professional lives.

At the outset of the lockdown, a lot of my days were marked by managing replies from co-workers and superiors on multiple devices, screens and…


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I stomp over a spider
On a whim.

It crawled into my sight,
Seconds back.
And now,
It lies there
Squashed,
Dead.

As I stare at the morbid mess,
I wonder…
Why?

I could’ve simply
Let the harmless house spider be.
It posed no threat to me.
And yet,
I crushed it
With impunity.

The loss?
Mine, none.
The spider, gone;
Its time, done.
Along with it are gone
Unwoven cobwebs,
Future progeny.

Minutes pass by.
I notice ants
Gathering round the remains.

I leave.
I let the ants be.


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Lies in one dark corner,
A rotting potato.

Forgotten,
Neglected,
Bleeding,
Festering.

Waiting…
To be discovered.

Only to be thrown away.


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For more of my art-works, check out:https://www.instagram.com/somanysomyas/

I don’t remember the last time,
I watched the sun go down,
Far away in the horizon,
The crimson ball of fire,
Drowning away in a sea of pink.

I don’t remember the last time,
I saw a sparrow visit my veranda,
In search of water or grain,
Hop about the railing,
Decorate it with its droppings.

I don’t remember the last time,
I let the breeze,
Serenade me with its lullaby,
Caress my unkempt hair,
Whisper secrets into my ears.

I don’t remember the last time, I smiled at a stranger, Said an inadvertent ‘Hi’, Struck up a conversation…

Somya Barpanda

A fantasizer; a nature enthusiast; a seeker of magic in the mundane

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