Words Unlimited

10/08/2024

'Home is where your heart is' this wholesome illustration by feels like a Saturday evening 🫂💌
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10/08/2024

'Ghar Chalein' by Vanshika will make you go back to your 'Ghar'💌

Ghar Chalein
The taste of my mother's food, the sound of my sister's laughter, the teasing by my brother- this is my home. The home I was born into. The home of my mornings, the home of my greatest epiphanies, the home of my happy tears, of my worst betrayal. The home I yearn to leave. No matter how far I go, this home will always be there- in my heart, in my tears, in my mother's loneliness, in my feelings of not belonging.

I have found a home in friendship too, a home built by the bricks of kind words, glued together with our shared dreams, hopes and heartbreaks. This is the home that resides in classroom shenanigans, the home of meaningless conversations. This is my chosen home, the home I built on my own. This home will follow me everywhere I go- in the words of encouragement I carry with me, in the unshaken belief they hold for me.

I really did believe this was enough for me. That was before I ran into the sound of your voice, the glimpse of your smile from the corner of my eye, the look of worry on your face as I cried. I felt as if for the first time, I really was home. Truly home. Your jokes, my giggles, your hands, my cheeks- this is my destined home. This is the home I was meant to find. The home I could never leave, no matter how hard I tried. The home that made me realise that there really is no other place like home.
Out of all the doors I've knocked on, yours was the only one that opened straightaway, the key the love we share. They say, words are sweeter in your mother tongue and I agree. So the next time I say “Ghar chalein?” , make sure you hold me in your arms and take me there.
- ✨💌
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09/08/2024

'Home' by 💌✨
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03/08/2024

'My god, my abode' by will take you to your childhood and make you miss your home even more. ..

My God, My Abode

In a cardboard box I packed it away,
a small, tiny part of me.
Here-there, wandering everywhere
wondering what could home possibly be?
I checked time, it struck 12
Cinderella rushed back alone
Peter pan, wendy’s plan
I ought to explore a world unknown.

I like this place, I’ll stay here!
my mind felt relaxed - no daggers, no spears.
Saffron sacrosanct and riverine enchantment
divinity in the air and heartwarming endearment.
In the land of the creator, I found my origin
the ever so kind master, gave me a home unforgiven.

I like this place, but wait!
I think it’s time again
to pack my dreams and leave.
the cardboard’s waiting patiently,
my belongings in it i shall keep.

I reluctantly get ready to restart my quest
the pursuit of the unknown I quite detest.
I pack up everything, with tears in my eyes
everything except my heart and soul
for they were never mine.
They will forever belong to my dearest father blue
Ohm Namay Shivay!
my search for home forever ends with you.
-Mohi✨..

01/08/2024

This beautiful illustration by Rifa, our junior illustrator, makes us miss our family even more.
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31/07/2024

'Tragic-comedy' by our new editor-in-chief, Jiya Tiwary will take you on a long ride to your home. ..

Tragic-comedy

You laugh at the joke
That I spent three minutes perfecting
And pick up your phone to tweet it
Your Twitter account has four followers
And it looks like
An incorrect quotes account for the sitcom of our lives.

We go through our days
Like a slice of life anime—
with just enough of drama
To keep us invested.
Our mornings begin
with a class of about sixty,
and unlike the movie we watched last night
We can't skip through the documentary bits.

We return to the boiling heat
Of a house of three
And order our groceries on my phone
Because you always delete the grocery apps from yours
the day after you install them.
On the rare occasions that we cook,
I think of the big knife in our kitchen
As foreshadowing
In a murder mystery
And then forget all about it
Till we cook next time.

You laugh at the joke
That came out spontaneous for once
And then pick up your phone to tweet it.
I lay half on top of you
Powering through the oppressive heat of Delhi's summer
And you don't push me off.
- Jiya✨
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21/07/2024

"In this holy land" juxtaposes the narratives of war told by a god-fearing man to his children with the stark reality of destruction and loss occurring nearby. It reflects on the deep bloodshed, the devastation of homes, and the tragic fate of innocents caught in the conflict.
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In This Holy Land

In this holy land
The blood runs deep
The god-fearing man
On a bright sunny morning
Under the roof of HIS home
tells his children,
How their lands were taken from them
How they were attaked in their own motherland
How they attacked their family, and children in their sleep
How they bravely fought the war with their white brothers
He tells his children
Under the roof of HIS home

A few kilometres away

In this holy land
The blood runs deep
God’s little eyes
Watches how easily houses turn to dust
How their family becomes mere memories
Another statistic for the world
How those little arms reach for the warmth under the heaps of rubble
All that's left of them
In this holy land
They watch
How eyes turn red
They watch
How the god-fearing men kills them before they even open their eyes.
- ✨
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21/07/2024

21/07/2024

'War' captures the raw and chaotic nature of war, juxtaposing the brutality and suffering with moments of silence. It presents a stark contrast between different characters and creatures, all affected by the conflict, and emphasizes the inherent unfairness and untimeliness of war's devastation.
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War Piece

Wound
naked, raw
booming, hurting, silent
priests, robbers, rats, butterflies
praying,gasping,dying
unfair, ill-timed
War
- ✨
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21/07/2024

✨the board✨
A round of applause for all the editors and illustrations who helped in putting up such a beautiful board. It takes a lot of time and effort to come up with the presentation of the board, but surely worth it in the end.
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21/07/2024

'Rubber, Shrapnel and Guts'- contemplates the intertwined nature of life and death, reflecting on the stark realities of war. It contrasts the poetic view of life with the harsh, colorless destruction caused by bombs.
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Rubber, Shrapnel and Guts

Do you think when a lightbulb filckers
Another gives out at the same time?
You have made life to be so poetic
I have to talk of death in rhymes.
(And every morning creeps away
We think that life is here to stay.)

What qualifies as a human
Some blood and a bashed-in skull?
War might have held a tint of red
But bombs are grey and dull.

(There's nothing that my words can tell you
That you don't already see
Shrapnel and guts and rubble and dust
And death and a city of grief
There are no lights left to flicker anymore
But the land keeps score
The sky keeps score.)

- Jiya✨
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21/07/2024

"The Day Before" reflects on the last moments of joy and love before a devastating conflict erupts. It portrays a poignant transition from hope and life to the horror and loss brought by war. The poem captures the stark reality of destruction, the displacement of people, and the remnants of a shattered city, leaving behind a world of silence and hope tinged with sorrow.
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The Day Before

That last evening, we ran
And danced and loved
So hard, we hoped
That the bullets would look on
Till the laughter on our tongue dies down
To a lullaby
And when the sun comes up
Over the rubble
Mothers will be born again
Only to sing and not bury
What MIGHT be hers.
That night, we packed our world
Within words from a language
Tomorrow might no longer understand.
When the first man fell,
We prayed
Till our throats ruptured
Into rivers of song.

At dawn,
Our bare toes twitch on stones.
The homes have all been torn apart.
What's left of a city is fleeing.
On the ground- an arm, a leg, a bird mid-flight,
Amputated on a homeland that was never their own
Heads and hands and hymns
Our children would never know.

This morning, the world is made again
From silence and hope
Is a sky streaked with red.

- ✨
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25/06/2024

A picture paints a thousand words. This illustration by ._ ✨ depicts the state of the world we are in. This piece conveys a complex emotion more effectively than words.
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23/06/2024

'Kindness' - Born into a life marked by his parents' regrets and unattainable hopes, Baig's brief existence ends in quiet mercy, sparing him from a lifetime of unfulfilled potential and sorrow.
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Kindness

It was a damp morning when Baig opened his eyes to this world for the first time. His mother's eyes were reeking of remorse. His name was chosen by his father months ago. Maybe in Baig he saw a sliver of hope he couldn't see in himself. To make him the warrior he himself couldn't be. It'd take a lot more than a few months for Baig to understand that. Her mother would tell him stories of faraway paradises and his father would take pride in this little miracle of life he had created. Baig would imagine the life he could have lived as a dream that might come true. Baig would repent for the sins he never committed. His mother would die of pneumonia and his father of arrhythmia. Baig's wretched life would come to a pitiable end. He'll never achieve anything or live up to his glorious name. Keeping this in mind, the pious soldier at Baig's bedside, that very damp morning, smothered him gently back to sleep. You can't lose what you never had, Baig.

- .7z ✨
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22/06/2024

'Watermelon' - The poem depicts the harrowing reality of war, where children's silent suffering and the absence of screams highlight the overwhelming trauma.
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Watermelon

Little hands press against our chest
When the shells shake the walls
There are no more sirens
Just ringing in our ears.
All we can think is
Why are there no screams?
They must have drowned in the blood,
Countless children waiting to be held
Even with cold hands
Dead or alive?
People waiting to die
Or grow old with scars
Wide eyes and still births
Lives gone even before its here.

- ._.03 ✨
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09/05/2024

This piece by our illustrator, Nishika, is everything at once - art and poetry and a rebellion against violence.
's art on war reminds us why it's important to create art that is not only political but also authentic to its theme and to the artist themselves.

14/04/2024

This issue 'War (and Peace)' is inspired by the legacy of pacifist visionaries like Virginia Woolf, Leo Tolstoy, and artists such as Picasso. Words Unlimited presents its own interpretation of the escalating violence in today's world. Watch our members confront the horrors of war and delve into the stark reality of violent conflicts through their work.

14/04/2024

Team Words Unlimited presents our much-awaited February issue, 'War (and Peace),' delving into the current events shaping our world, from Ukraine to Palestine. Join us as we examine the troubling trend of war and inhumanity through the unique perspectives of our talented members.

14/04/2024

Drawing inspiration from Picasso's powerful anti-war masterpiece, 'Guernica,' our team presents 'War (and Peace),' a poignant exploration of the futility of conflict through stirring poetry and evocative artworks.

24/03/2024

Anisha mesmerizes with her blend of simplicity and grace in this enchanting poem where fantasy intertwines with nostalgia. Everything about it, from the choice of movie to the rhyming scheme, echoes with the innocence of childhood, evoking the joy of carefree days.

My Little Fish

In a world of waves and wonder,
Beneath the depths where corals gleam,
Ponyo whispers secrets untold,
A fish with dreams, an enchanted scheme.

Where dreams take wondrous flights.
A tale of friendship and love spellbind
Like magic, a girl's innocent mind,
A trove of those memories of mine.

Within the dance of fantasy ,
Lessons gracefully entwine.
With Sosuke and Ponyo,
Friendships are pure and true,
Undone, I'm drawn into a world anew.

A window to the past, an escape from reality.
When my heart yearns to dance
In childhood's embrace,
I revisit the shores of a magical land,
To behold "Ponyo" with a child's grace.
A favorite forever treasured,
In my heart and mind, it's joy measured.

-

19/03/2024

Explore Blessy's evocative reflection on 'Call Me by Your Name,' where love blooms amidst May's embrace. Through delicate verses, she captures the essence of longing and eternal devotion.

Read the full poem below.

As May creeps up to the backyard
Where sun kissed love dances
The arch of your back branches
Into a billion blooming leaves.
Our senses set straight by the scent
Of apricots ripening in the wind
Until plucked from their perch and worshipped
By lips sweet with malus from the tree.

Like licking the shivers off your skin after,
Swimming becomes another sin, drowned out
Sounds above the surface and below
The unfolding mysteries of love.
There's hesitation in our touch,
A trembling beneath the fingertips
Tracing the gills of a fish held above
The gasp in its last breath.

This garden of Eden that we create
On dreamless nights. As gentle
As the fluttering of a blackbird’s wings
When it caresses your shoulder,
The peck on your ear,
The whisper of a song long,
Long before the sunrise
Slithers up onto the windowsill.

Outside, hyacinths poke their heads
At sunflowers tempting the light.
Over tides, dismembered bodies
Belonging to none, made of stone
Rise to the pull of the moon
Merely because they belong
Eternally bound in an embrace,
In alexander’s stolen gaze
Upon Hephastion, over a sea of swords.

Invisible to the day
But the waves on the shore know,
What is forgotten rises like water
Being pulled to the call
Of a lost lover’s name.
Louder than your own,
“Oliver” it says,
You carry “Elio” in your throat.
Beneath the beloved’s stars
You become the air in his lungs
And the letters to his lore.

-Mystery of Love, ._k

17/03/2024

Pride and Prejudice - Ashmi
This piece by our head illustrator, ._ is bound to make your jaws drop. What is better than a good ol' classic drama you ask? A painting about it!

15/03/2024

Step into the emotional whirlwind of Vindia's favorite series, 'Fleabag,' as she grapples with the echoes of a past romance, wrestling with faith, doubt, and the desire for redemption. Join her in this raw and introspective journey where the lines between love and loneliness blur, leaving behind a poignant reminder that some wounds never truly heal.

THE PRIEST

It will pass
I believed
But I am lying,
Here in the darkness
Loving no one but god
But am I not still alone?
I want nothing more than
For you to steal me away
To the place you steal yourself to
But somehow I can’t help
But feel selfish.
My mind is too muddled to think
It takes me back
To that empty bus stop
Where I stood hesitant
Begged my heart to open, just a little
So the loneliness would tumble out.
At night when life is unbearable
Who’s invisible hands
Hold me close?
Your’s or my faith’s?
I couldn’t leave you,
But staying would have been worse.
If I had been more brave
I wonder
Would I have the love
I would never doubt on
Or is doubt something
I can never escape from.
I don’t want you to remember me
As the weak man
Who chose nothing,
Sometimes I don’t want you
To remember me at all.
When the hellhounds
Of lost love chase you
I want you to remember
That for me too
It hasn’t passed.

-._.03

11/03/2024

Mohi's piece takes a sweet and unique turn, reflecting on what it means to have favourites. Without needing an elaborate description, this write-up speaks for itself.
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“Favourite”- a word so frequently used that we say it at least a few times every day. My favourite this, my favourite that. But what is it that makes us declare something to be so dear to us that we highlight it and put it on top of our lists? What is it that makes us wrap ourselves into the warm embrace of this feeling? What is it that makes us feel like it belongs to us and make this “favourite” an integral part of our personality? 

I’d say emotions that lead to relatability is the answer. You have a favourite song because you relate to the lyrics, you have a favourite dish because your mom makes it the best and you have a favourite item because your dad brought it for you. 

We as humans value feelings and emotions a lot. So, when we come across something that lights up our soul and makes us feel something, we end up loving it. In a world full of people, we are still very alone and when we experience similarity of emotions and feelings with someone, we end up feeling close to them. 

My favourite movies as a child used to be “Dumbo” and “Stuart little”. I loved them because it was a story about love, compassion and ofcourse animals. I’d cry seeing the animals in pain and being ill-treated. My heart would dance gleefully when everyone was happy. This made me realize one thing from the very beginning, that I am an empath and I value compassion, a lot. This self realization because of these movies helped me decide the discourse of my life, where I always strive to help people and animals whenever I can. One of the very pivotal movies for me in the later stages of my life was “Interstellar”. It made me fall in love with science, even more than I already did. 

Cinema is such a beautiful form of art, it reminds us that we are not alone in this expansive universe and that there is someone out there who you can relate to. It reminds us that we are not just living but we are alive. We are alive enough to feel, alive enough to have “favourites”.

- My Favourite Movie/Series by

09/03/2024

Jinx by Nishika

takes us on a thrilling journey into the depths of our own duality, mirroring the complexities of 'Arcane: League of Legends' with a touch of creative magic.

08/03/2024

John Donne's "This flea is you and I, and this/ our marriage bed" might find an unlikely rival in Ronaq's comparison of her thoughts to a bedroom scene in this imaginative piece.

Read the full piece below.

Bedroom, there is a difference between the world outside and inside it. You throw all shame away in that small space of yours. My thoughts are like a truly sophisticated bedroom of mine. They have got no shame, only pain. Innocence was a show until he tore down all the 50 shades of pretense. Thoughts turned into actions that I never thought would become a whole different, unprecedented world.

Dangerous was he, and she was scared, but wasn’t it what they both wanted? Innocence was all she could give, and innocence was all he could take. They drowned in the beautiful concession. Chills ran down my spine to the hell of my soul, and my body shivered. What was I even thinking? I paused the screen, but the bedroom door is still locked. I forgot the keys!

A Switch in his persona, he was dark in his deepest desires but vanilla for her. Love made his shades darker, and she made him a beautiful twilight. Dwelling in his past, she brought him right back with her screams. He shattered, and she left him! So, he surrendered the keys to his room at her feet. She owned his possession but was not in control. She lost herself to him whenever she opened the door.

Mute the screen. Who is outside my door?

- Gray by

07/03/2024

Deadpool by Nandita.

In unanimous editorial consensus, we've concluded that "Deadpool's mask is so cool" might not be the best caption out there, but what undeniably steals the spotlight is the sheer coolness of this creation by our ex-illustrator .

06/03/2024

This piece by our editor, Gargi puts into words what all of us have felt at times - that pain gives birth to art. Her write-up is sure to strike a chord with anyone who has ever felt the need to create something beautiful out of their grief.

Read the full write-up below.

I write when my mind is dark,
Pick up the pen to pour over the gloomy night
Of my mind, onto the paper.
Rockstar taught me that
To be an artist
Is to go through pain,
Worth writing about.
Pain, like a rite of passage.
I believed that my art mattered only if
It was grief coating my words.
And I felt my words,
So it became a part of me.
I woke up with the burden of my dreams crushing me,
That the reality couldn’t sleep on it.

- Rockstar, by

05/03/2024

We are back with another issue!

Words Unlimited brings to you "Frame - by - Frame : An Ode to Our Favorite Movies ". This issue captures the essence of timeless classics and contemporary gems. Let the pages unfold the cinematic journey within words.