Ankita Gupta
Abstract Classics Others
The taste of soil is in nature,
The love is in wholesomeness,
The son and daughter of the warrior are the shields of its soil,
The mother soil is our peace of dependability.
Monsoon Memor...
Fathers And H...
Girls
Colonial Era
East India Co...
Journey of Tw...
Winter Scene
Painter
Woman
Battle
When a tree falls in a forest Does it make any noise? When a tree falls in a forest Does it make any noise?
Those depths perpetuated life in me, And I saw myself getting 'Reborn' Those depths perpetuated life in me, And I saw myself getting 'Reborn'
You know bub It all comes back Sure does You know bub It all comes back Sure does
In me Death resides. Life still dwells In me Death resides. Life still dwells
I clasp the pitcher to quench my thirst, Just then the claps of thunder... I clasp the pitcher to quench my thirst, Just then the claps of thunder...
So, the debate between friendship and love flares up again; It’s been quite long, with the situatio... So, the debate between friendship and love flares up again; It’s been quite lon...
Feelings are like crooked lines of our heartbeats, Staying inside... Feelings are like crooked lines of our heartbeats, Staying inside...
Winters crept in, the weathers chill, With misty morns and foggy nights... Winters crept in, the weathers chill, With misty morns and foggy nights...
How many different people Are there inside you? How many different people Are there inside you?
Whom did you kill today? Anger, Anger Whom did you kill today? Anger, Anger
I bleed.... Red! I bleed.... Red!
How and when was the "Search of self", easy? How and when was the "Search of self", easy?
While we are small we say I want to be older, As we get older we say I want to be younger... While we are small we say I want to be older, As we get older we say I want t...
But what of the humans dying so???? But what of the humans dying so????
Together we'll paint the planet! Together we'll paint the planet!
Glued to the pages, she is now lost, In this new life and a new identity.. Glued to the pages, she is now lost, In this new life and a new identity..
They were searching for something, In the garbage heap. They were searching for something, In the garbage heap.
And now though strange, we want the Mondays back Because we only pine for what is not and then wish... And now though strange, we want the Mondays back Because we only pine for what ...
In darkest hours Of death, defeats, and loss and pain. In darkest hours Of death, defeats, and loss and pain.
It’s the money you think, that will make you happy? It’s the money you think, that will make you happy?
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