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Mellow Tyranny

 Poetry


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Empathy's Demise

It's quite wondrous really, How clocks around the world are ticking right now in perfect synchrony. Wondrous how even in such a large world,  We are all nakedly defined by a common present.  A common, now. Wondrous how the sun is setting right this moment, In one corner of the world. While it rises in another, all at the same time. . Perhaps it is all that's left that unites us through the present. Only the sun bears witness to the capering of man,  For the world is simply too large for us. Large enough to let a man in Paris grab an afternoon Latté,  While a woman in Casablanca runs to the sweet embrace of her lover. . Large enough that the loudest sound you hear is this poem, and my voice, Sheltered from the shelling beyond the sea. Large enough that at this very second, There's a little girl with ringing ears, Looking through the rubble, For her dead mother. . Now, when my voice too goes quiet.  I implore you, tell me what is louder. Is it the luxury of silenc...
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The 7 Billion Cyborgs of Earth

'A fictional or hypothetical person whose physical abilities are extended beyond normal human limitations with mechanical elements.' This is what the term- 'Cyborg' means.  But,  does it  ?   " Hey! V-Sauce, Michael here-" no lets not do that.  Pop culture has defined a cyborg's appearance like this: But the way I see it, this is a more realistic cyborg. (DC don't sue me) You're probably thinking why this harmless depressed lady can be called a cyborg. It's all about perspective. We are born in a world where things don't change drastically, so we grow accustomed to our surroundings. Take a look at this scenario. A human communicates with a machine by releasing static from her phalanges (fingers) into the screen which the machine processes and via a global network, fetches the required data and interprets it in the form of light emitted by pixels in a coordinated succession that then enters the human's light receptors and causes a rush ...
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Mayfly Philosophy

One humid night outside my front door, I was sitting in boredom waiting for the sun to go down so I could maybe catch the twilight dusk. The sky turned dark pretty fast that day and it wasn't nearly as impressive as the day before. Flies started buzzing all around and to my surprise, were suddenly gone. In intrigue, I looked up. Turned out, the light above the door frame had been turned on. Like a pilgrimage, little bugs from all around flew right up to it and made tapping sounds at the glass casing. At first I felt pitiful. For these tiny beings could only have so much energy and were wasting it for no reason. Almost like they wanted to break into the bulb and touch the filament, they battered their heads on the glass repeatedly. Fluttering their little wings with all their might. It was indeed pitiful to watch. Still is, whenever I see them. Near bulbs, tube lights, signboards or open fires. “How could one of nature’s creations be so flawed?” I thought. Moreover, it wasn’t like m...
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