Don’t kill me, I pray to thou

The sun is over my heaving breast, about to sink into me

The conch shells I can hear afar, seems they are coming for me

Will this be the night when I die

And will the breeze carry my final sigh

Today is Dashami, the end of a fest

It surely is time to put the Goddess to rest

All these years, I was her grave

But I am now ailing, peace is what I crave

My arms are shrinking, shriveled is my bed

The belly of the country, I have always fed

But the nation’s thirst how will I fulfill

After my own sons go for the kill

Author’s Note: The above poem has been penned to highlight the atrocity committed by humanity on the Ganga river during immersion of Durga idols

Harry Potter series in 180 words

‘Severus, if you truly loved her, you must help me save her son.’

The talking hat sorted him in Gryffindor as he recalled his first brush with his new world - ‘Harry, you are a wizard.’ He looked around and saw Gryffindors cheering, Ron applauding, the twins winking and that bushy-haired girl sneering.

Two years passed, Harry had already thwarted the Dark Lord. ‘But He will return, Harry, stronger and more dangerous’ Dumbledore sighed.

‘Voldemort is BACK, that cup was a Portkey,’ Harry barked amidst tears.

‘Voldemort can be destroyed, Harry. I will tell you the secret,’ Dumbledore spoke through his half-moon spectacles.

“Diary, ring, cup, locket, diadem gone! Polish off Nagini and he will be over,” Harry spoke to Ron & Hermione as he stepped into the forest to meet his death.

Green light, pain, nothingness, and the boy with the lightning scar awoke again!

‘Tom, I am the master of deathly hallows.’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA’

‘Expelliarmus’

Voldemort was dead, killed by his own curse.

She finished writing and dropped a doleful tear as JK Rowling put down her pen.