The seed you have sown, won’t go in vain
You’ll be reaped for you pain
Get up and move on
The door is waiting! Go, knock on
Pay all your heed
To fetch the grail, to get succeeded
Spot the never tiring spirit of the bird
As failures are not the end of the world
For all those who disgraced you
Shrug them off and continue
The exploration of the avenue
You’ll see the change
And you’ll surely sustain the chain
Step on the stairs of heights
Taking you at par
Be vigilant for it may give your sacrs
Don’t lose hope
Scale up, not down the slope
To spot the never tiring spirit of the bird
As failures are not the end of the world.
There he came, riding the horse
To save his princess from the evil dominants
Wearing a Scarlet vasket and
A glazing sword in his hand.
His heart broke when he saw her scars. He asked, “Who was that brutal being?”
“Tell me, I won’t let him live anymore.”
Sobbing replied the queen, “He was the demon from the shore.”
The king’s promising looks healed her
And soon you forgot the things we had to suffer.
The time of joy had come
A young princess had taken birth
But the family proclaimed
She wasn’t worth.
The King labbed his princess and fought
Not for his queen this time, but
For his princesss
Because she only had a father
Who could love her!
I was once returning to home after taking my classes with one of my friends. Just on the way I saw a gleaming lady throwing a plastic limca bottle out of the window of her car. I don’t know what grew my mind that day but I picked up the bottle and put it inside the side pocket of my bag without expecting any realization from the lady. But to my surprise she came after me and asked me to return that bottle and guess what were her words, “Give it to me, I will throw it in the dustbin.” I didn’t felt distressed that day, I felt as a patriotic individual who just put a little effort and might changed a mind. Also it was the effort of the lady that always inpired me to do things that would make India my home.
People generally ask me what is the India of your dreams. Or how do you want to see India, developed with the highest levels of infrastructure or with the crime rate of 0, want to see India with highest GDP or the highest Literacy Rate. But today I want to counter question them, “What did you do to make a better India?
Did you put the effort to make this place a better home for your children.”
I know its easy to say things like this, but a small, little effort of yours is going to add up to the making of India of your dreams.
I read a paragraph from Steinback’s The Pearl. The way he decribed a town and linked it to an animal was immensely creative extending the primary analogy. The first element is imagination. So here is my example of a creative paragraph.
A pebble on the raod is like a wall on the flower in a party. A wall flower scents the air. Air can also be scented by perfumes. This is how the flower loses importance. It glooms. But the Moon makes it blossom. The moon also went through hard nights. The hard nights gave him the grey spots. Pebbles also develop grey spots because they got punts as they get unnoticed!
For the things you ache for, you have to bear the pain done by them during the path. For a thing to be achieved either a goal or prey, one has to have the courage to stand out of the ordinary and change… for good for better. You need to exercise your thoughts tactfully just like the kite which is tangled between the fingers is held high flouting the competence.
I remember a famous quote by Tim Notke, ” Hard work beats talent when talent does not work hard.”
This is fairly true because if you dont grate yourself into a startling art of sculpture you would end up making yourself an unrecognizable piece of continuous hardships.
From Rarasaur: “Pack your cells with joy until it is what they know best, and what they trust most.”“how to heal”: A Poem
This week, we’re sharing stories from Tana Ganeva, Garrett M. Graff, Janelle Monáe, Ellen Cushing, and Chelsea Steinauer-Scudder.The Top 5 Longreads of the Week
With a Chakra in her hands
And a Trishul lay by
This my Bharat Mata
Guarded by Tiger’s fangs.
As Bharat Mata speaks
Gazing at the past
Recalls herself as she stands
At the end of uproars’ streak.
Saffron in my blood
White in my thoughts
Green in my actions
And in my dreams blooms a Lotus bud.
The sepoys who freed me
From the fetters of dementors
Oh! My prayers are bedecked with pride
For the ones who freed me.
Crimean Wars, Blue Rebellion
Kanpur Massacre, Lucknow Siege
Endless were the efforts of my children
That helped me escape that dungeon.
No more I have to strive
In the dark, storming clouds
My people gave me wings
Oh! I am ready to thrive.
My head, held high
My voice, heard
My walk, blazes
In the endless free sky.
Crowning in the north
Is the Treasure of Great Snow
Dravidian brooks, Kaveri
And Narmada without a sole dearth.
It’s 73 years, we fly kites
With our bosoms swelled
With Pride, Valour, Bravery
She is transitioning to fathomless heights.
Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter.
— Izaak Walton