Thursday 31 October 2013

A Hope, A Promise !!

As I had mentioned my previous post, my thoughts have come dressed up in Poetry over the past few days.

Of these, the Loop Poetry is something which I found really interesting, challenging and refreshing. I'm sure it is a delight to anyone who reads it !

As the curtains fall on the UBC today, I am posting yet another Loop Poetry.

This time, it is  A Hope, A Promise.....

The heart is filled with voices,
voices that reach me deep,
deep in my eyes is the pain,
pain on which I’d rather not weep....

Thoughts aren’t expressed or spoken,
spoken words carry no weight,
weight lies waiting in my bosom,
bosom that knows not to hate….

Eyes speak volumes of longing,
longing for a glance that’d  speak,
speak of a hand that I shall hold,
hold on to, as my knees turn weak….

Words are sometime the arrows,
arrows do create the spite,
spite that  pairs up with anguish,
anguish which erupts in a fight….

A promise is all that I can offer,
offer to nurture peace,
peace makes life so delicious,
delicious, that aches and worries cease….

Love is the balm for the soul,
soul, full with sweetness so alive,
alive in my heartbeat is a hope,
hope that love shall always thrive !!

That is UBC Post 31 :-)

And I hereby complete the Ultimate Blog Challenge :-)

Wednesday 30 October 2013

Be with me.....

Over the past few days, I have attempted to dress my thoughts in different poetic forms, the major ones being, the Septolet, the Diamante, the Minute Poemthe Nonet, the Monorhyme and the Loop Poetry.

All are challenging forms to write in, given the fact that I have never ever tried my brains at poetry, before the blog took birth.

As I was thinking what my blog should sport before the UBC comes to a close ( even though we can continue the challenge if we wish to), I was inspired to write yet another Minute Poem.

After boiling all the thoughts in the cauldrons of the mind, and adding the other ingredients in the correct order and stirring the right number of times, here is the Invigoration potion errr... poem I've been able to concoct...


Be with me.....

When the world turns hostile at me,
you are to be,
the peace I crave,
though I look brave….

When love flies away like a bird,
give me a word,
that you’ll be near,
to wipe my fear….

When iniquity traps the soul,
And eats me whole,
send me the light,
the moral might.

That is UBC 30 for me :-)

Tuesday 29 October 2013

I did, did I ?

Ok,I know it seems out of place, but that question wasn't asked simply :-)

I did something which made me ask that. I tried writing a Palindrome poem.

A Palindrome is a word, a phrase, a verse or a sentence that reads the same forward and backward.

Something like the question in the title :-P .....So now you know why the title ;-)

Here's my first Palindrome poem.... the World...

The world,
to me, you are,
my need to live life in full spirits
the voices in my heart speak to me
as the days fly past
I find myself growing with you
my love for you shall never end
nothing else can be my gift to you, but
~~ my soul ~~
nothing else can be my gift to you, but
my love for you shall never end
I find myself growing with you
as the days fly past
the voices in my heart speak to me
my need to live life in full spirits
to me, you are,
the world.

That brings my UBC count to 29 :-)

Monday 28 October 2013

Work hard enough !

Ok, I know the topic is a little misleading, because it sounds like a piece of advice.

But it is nothing of that sort. Just a little idea, which I thought of converting to a Septolet. This is the second one I'm posting in the span of this UBC , the first being this.

A diamond is a piece of carbon that stuck to its job long enough to get transformed, isn't it ? So here's a Septolet for the idea.

You’re a diamond,
whose shine
mesmerizes me

Nothing special
just carbon
that worked hard !


UBC 28 :-)

Sunday 27 October 2013

God was with her....

This was her hope and prayer, she somehow wanted to make it.

But the lady in the pink sari looked at her with contempt writ large on her eyes, sarcasm lacing her voice, annoyance and irritation dripping from every inch of her face.

“ 88 % Marks ? And you think you stand a chance among our elite students? I am sorry, I wouldn’t even dream of applying in our school, if I got just 88% in my tenth, and never at all for the Science group. I wonder what made you think you can seek an admission here for the Eleventh ! Our seats are reserved for the best of brains here. We have no seat for you. Better look out for some schools who can actually take you in for your low marks. ”  

Saying this, the Principal glanced at her deputy. The latter smirked.

So that was it. She wouldn’t get a seat there.

It was the year 2000.  She had just returned to her home town in Kerala, after clearing her Secondary School with 88 % marks from the National Capital where her father had been working, and had wanted to join her alma mater, the school where she had been a student before. She loved the school, she longed to be back in its cradle, to relive her wonderful days of learning there.
But she had just been turned down.

What hurt her most was not the rejection, or the prospect of seeking admission elsewhere , or her marks being called low. She had enough faith in herself. What troubled her was the behavior she had to endure from the Principal. This wasn’t the way a teacher was expected to behave. She had no rights whatsoever to discourage someone in so harsh a manner. She could've done it politely and peacefully. Yet she had made her feel sorry for having come there.
This hurt her. 
She glanced at her mother who was sitting next to her, and got up from her seat.

“ Thank you, Ma’m. Sorry for troubling you,”, she said.

As she turned to leave, she made a silent promise to herself. A promise of redemption.

God wouldn’t let her fail, would he ?

She applied in many other Government schools, and a few turned her down as their seats were full, and some shortlisted her as the 100th or 150th in waiting, because there were many students like her, waiting to get into schools after their Board exams.

One day, she received a call from a school run by nuns. She was happy at last, as she got the call even though she was 150th in their list. She waited in anticipation in their auditorium as they were calling out the names of girls who had made it to their roll, straining to hear her name being called.

When they reached the 141st name on the list, the seats got filled and further admissions were cancelled. She was asked to return.

She had lost again. Her tears were silent, this time too.

But, wait. God wouldn’t let her fail, would he ?

That evening, the State Minister of Education announced that further seats had been granted to all schools affiliated to the Government, owing to the growing demand and the school she had been to that morning was the first on the list.

She was called again the next day and admitted to the Commerce Stream. By then, she had composed herself to accept any stream of subjects she could get into, as she knew she could make it work.

The next two years were a challenge in her life. She valued her opportunity to study as a chance which many had not been blessed with, and she worked hard to prove her mettle. She took part in competitions, represented her School at the State Level Contests in Elocutions, Declamations and Writing Contests and won prizes. At the end of two years, she wrote her Pre-University Boards.

Despite all the efforts she had put in, the fear lurked in the back of her mind, had she not done enough? What if her marks weren’t enough to take her to a good college ? What if she had to face the likes of the Principal woman, like she did two years ago  ? What if disappointment awaited her ?

God wouldn’t let her fail, would he ?

June 20th, 2002.

The results of Pre-University Boards for Kerala were declared on this day, at a press conference by the State Minister of Education.

She had topped the State in the Commerce Stream and was declared ‘ The First Rank Holder’ for the year.

Her sweet vengeance was complete. No one would now tell her she wasn’t worth being admitted to any college. She had an answer for all of them.

Three years later, now a graduate in Commerce, she enrolled for Chartered Accountancy. Her father had again been transferred to a far-off city, and this time she couldn’t accompany him as she and her mother had to take care of her ailing grandfather at home. She couldn’t join classes either, as she had to travel to the next city for the same. Staying away from home wasn’t an option she could choose, given her circumstances.

God wouldn’t let her fail, would he ?

She chose to do her own studies along with her internship, and with enough support from her parents, grandparents, her college lecturers and mentors, she cleared her CA exams.
In one go.

God hadn’t let her fail.
He had been with her.
Has been with her.
And, will be with her.

This is a true story. No prizes for guessing the ‘She’ here :-)==============================================================
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out themes for creative writing each weekend for Indian bloggers.
This time your entry has to have one sentence that is repeated at least thrice in your post.

Saturday 26 October 2013

A Nonet Again :- Sitayana !!

Why do we always read the Ramayana as Rama's story ?

I sometimes feel that it is as much of Sita's story as it is Rama's, so why can't there be a Sitayana, too? :-)

Here's my Nonet for that....

She deserves an epic in her name
A true woman of great acclaim
the daughter of Mother Earth
doubted fidelity
questioned chastity
silent tears
war within
truth wins,

UBC 26 :-)

Friday 25 October 2013

55 on Friday - 1 :- Life in conversations :)

This friday has again brought something new, as it bids goodbye.

Write Tribe comes up with a new writing exercise for us  - 55 on Friday.

The inaugural prompt, the picture below, is by Vidya Sury. We need to weave a 55-er based on this :-)

Vidya-Sury-28.10-7.jpg (1001×1065)

"Grandma, I've so many questions about life.
Some with broken answers, some without any at all.
Does any book give all the answers in one go ?"

" No, book teaches you how to live. You just learn it as you move on."

" Tough luck,then. I better remain ignorant"

" Yes dear, Ignorance is bliss ! "

55 on Friday #WriteTribe

Thursday 24 October 2013

A Rhymed Verse - Need I Fear ?

Today I'm posting a Rhymed verse ; just the usual kind of poems with rhyming ends, which we all have learnt at schools.

 My Question is , Need I Fear ?

Its late in the evening, when my books set me free,
Today, I’m alone, usually we’re three…
I board the bus on my way back home,
I’ve been out at college, not to roam.

I find a seat , my bag held tight,
Close to my bosom, with all my might…
There’s so much to study for the next day’s lectures,
I’ll have no time today to waste at the pictures !

I count the seconds and minutes tick by,
I think of mom who’ll be waiting, with a ‘why’?
My eyes wander to spot a known face,
And that’s when they see your cruel gaze…

Your eyes look at me with desire and lust
They lack the sheen  and depth that I can trust
The way you look, makes me feel conscious
I’m aware of my muscles tightening, anxious…

I avert my gaze with an effort to avoid,
I think of the lives, such lust destroyed,
I begin to hate you with alarming ferocity
I’m sure, I can expect no generosity….

I’m waiting to alight at my usual station,
Even as I feel my phone’s vibration.
I’m sure it’s mom, who worries if I’m secure,
I answer the phone, I speak and reassure…

As I get down at the station, as is usual for me,
I quickly look at you, so that I can see,
If there’s some mischief, awaiting, on my way
I’m relieved to find none, that’s so little to say…

I break into a run, and reach my home soon,
Before the sky smiles with the stars and moon,
I see my mom and feel loved and blessed ,
She herself looks happy, fine and de-stressed !!

This world has no voice for girls, says my mind
A real sweet guy, is hard to find,
Wherever I go, this fear shall follow,
But, I promise myself, in it, I shall never wallow !!

UBC 24 :-)

Wednesday 23 October 2013

A Sonnet - Friendship !

The next one of the poetic forms I'd like to try my hands ( or rather, brains ) is the Sonnet.

Thanks to Shakespeare, and the long enjoyable hours we spent in English classes at school, we know what a Sonnet is.
It is a poetic form of fourteen lines, with a rhyme scheme definite to each poem. A Shakespearean Sonnet has three stanzas of four lines each, and a couplet which polishes off the poem :-)
The rhyme scheme is usually abab cdcd efef gg :-)

This poem Friendship is my amateurish attempt at a Sonnet.

I remember the day we became friends,
On our first day at our new school…
We were yet to learn that friendship transcends
And making friends had no thumb rule…

Time bound us together, with a golden glue,
that we never ever wanted to break….
All tasks were for us to pull through,
Life looked like a piece of cake….

As our thoughts gained flesh and wings,
we were aware of the years that sped by,
Still our steps had the cheer that brings
the faith that we’ll touch the sky…

Such is the bond that we share as friends,
I’ll bet, you’ll want to make no amends !!

UBC 23 :-)

*Image Courtesy: Google Images

Tuesday 22 October 2013

A Loop Poetry - Time ....

I'm trying my hands at Loop Poetry in this post.

A loop poetry is a poetic form in which each stanza is made of four lines in such a fashion that the last word of each line begins the next line. The words form a loop this way and this makes it challenging and fun to write :-)
There is no restriction on the number of stanzas, though.

My Loop Poetry here is on Time...

I’m just an hourglass,
hourglass holding the time,
time that talks of the past,
past that is so sublime…

I’m here to tell you the value
value of the moments in life,
life you live shows your worth,
worth that is earned by your strife….

A moment well spent is a gift,
gift that your self must receive…
receive the bounty of your work,
work to effect what you conceive….

Precious is the gift of today,
today is what you call the ‘present’,
present is the truth forever,
forever, this is my message,to be sent.

UBC Post 22 for me :-)

Monday 21 October 2013

A Monorhyme - A Prize !!

This is an attempt at a Monorhyme. A Monorhyme, as the name indicates is a poetic form where all the lines have the same end rhyme.

My Monorhyme is a Prize....

She looks at me with innocent eyes
Believe me, that look can melt all ice
Her gaze so quizzical, she thinks me wise,
On the truth of my face, she sees no disguise

I’m sure her love reaches the skies
when she clings on to my bosom, no surprise
Her soft breath mixes with my sighs
Anything to interfere, I’d despise

She smiles at me, all my pain dies
I’m a mother, on me she relies…..
‘Take care of her’ , says a friendly advice,
‘I’ll surely do’, my heart replies.

Hey, when I say so, don’t doubt me guys,
my daughter to me, is God’s great prize…
Motherhood is nature’s strongest of ties,
And love is the best of all her supplies !!

That's Post 21 for UBC :-)

Sunday 20 October 2013

Was it bliss ?

“ Ms. Neharika, here’s someone to see you”, Sylvia opened the door and announced to her.

Neha looked up from her desk.

“ Yes, I’m expecting him. Ask him to come in. And tea for two, please”.

She was reading the interview of hers that had been published in the recent issue of  “ The ArtSpace” magazine.

Her life till date, her student days when she was just another girl, and her growth from that point to the famous Kathak exponent that she was now, had been widely covered in a semi-biographical, semi-conversational style.

The reporter had done a good job.

She remembered the conversation she had had with him over the phone.

She was then on a trip to Orissa , to meet her Dance guru. That was when she  had got the call from “The ArtSpace” team. The editor had first called himself and transferred the call to the reporter , requesting her personally that the latter had sought anonymity. That puzzled Neharika, but she nonetheless accepted it, because she knew the editor well from previous meetings.
The reporter was a very soft guy, who knew to ask questions or seek clarification without sounding offensive.
The call had lasted a little more than an hour, and at the end of it, she had poured out everything about her life.
How she had wanted to dance as a young kid, and how her father had beaten her once, breaking her ankles, when he found her dancing to the tunes of a bollywood number.
How she had secretly pursued her dreams, never breathing a word of it to anyone, masking her absence from home in the evenings, in the name of private tuitions.

And also the one incident that changed her life.

She had joined college, and on the freshers’ day, a group of guys from her senior batches had cordoned her off from the rest of her new gang.
They were drunk. Drunk till they oozed booze.
One of them , Ritesh,  asked her whether she knew how to dance.
She replied in the affirmative.
He threw a pair of anklets at her, as if her had them ready, and asked her to dance.
On the basketball court.
She said, she wouldn’t do it, as she thought the art was sacred and not to be insulted this way.
He slapped her, and mouthed expletives.
And that moment, she was come over by the real streak of vengeance.
She wore the anklets, and danced, danced and danced, till the whole college including the teachers had gathered, watching her, applauding her for her courage, presence of mind and strength to face the miscreants.

She hated the situation, she hated Ritesh for making her do it.

She would have stopped dancing then, for the insult she had had to endure.

But that had only been the beginning.

Later she started receiving  mails cloaked in anonymity, praising her for her performance, requesting her to dance at college festivals and  celebrations.
All the mails came from the same person, she was sure, because the handwriting was the same in all.
Neharika tried finding who the hidden admirer was, but she couldn’t. Mobile phones weren’t common then, and facebook wasn’t even heard of !
She loved these mails, and would look forward to receiving them. They thrilled her, and they gave her the boost to perform.
Often she got calls from television channels, where she was given opportunity to perform. Her father had realized his folly by then, and she performed at events in and outside the country. By the time she graduated , she had carved a niche for herself in her chosen field, and soon she turned a professional Kathak artist.

That was three years ago.

Neharika had been spoken out all this to the reporter, and he had done her justice by publishing all this in detail.

Surprisingly enough, the day before, she had got a call from none other than Ritesh.

“ I read your interview on the ArtSpace,I’d love to see you, Neha”, he had said.

“ Oh !! So, you still alive ? What makes me so likeable now, Ritesh ? So you remembered what you did to me all those years ago? You want to seek forgiveness, now? After all these years? Still drunk, eh, Ritesh ? “, Neha had let out her pent up frustration.

“Neha, please”, Ritesh had pleaded.

“ Yeah,  I want to see how you face me after humiliating me so much, Ritesh. Come down tomorrow evening. 5 O’ Clock. And by the way, call me Neharika,” she had replied and disconnected the call.

And here he was, as Sylvia had announced.

The tap on the door brought Neha back to her senses.

Ritesh was at the door, smiling at her.

“ Oh, come in, Mr Ritesh”, Neha spoke with a mocking voice.

“Hi Neha, sorry, Neharika. Nice meeting you after so many years. So long , isn’t it ? “, Ritesh spoke soothingly, as Sylvia came in with the tray of tea and cake.

That was all she needed to flare up.

“ Look here, Ritesh. I’m not the very same person you tried intimidating years back. Even then I’ve stayed away from you. I’ve never wanted anything to do with you. The insult I bore from you that day on the basketball court is enough to fuel me for a lifetime. I shall not forgive you for mocking me and my art. You’ll never do that to any girl hereafter. I think I made sure of that when I took up your challenge.”

Ritesh tried to say something, but Neha gestured with her hand.

“ No, Ritesh. I don’t want to listen to any apology or soothing words now. I don’t need it now. I’ve achieved in life, I’m famous, rich. And in a couple of years I’ll be married to my love. I’ll have a perfect family.I don’t want you haunting me anymore. I’m an achiever. You must know this, for the way you humiliated me”, Neha spoke rapidly and fiercely, with hatred oozing out of every word.

“ You may go, I don’t want to see you again.”

Ritesh got up from his seat.

“ Ok, Neharika. I promise not to disturb you again. You’ll never see me. All the best in all that you do,” he said, and walked out of the room.

He smiled to himself as he walked away.

Neha would never know him to be the secret admirer she had had. He had been mesmerized by her that day when she danced to his command.
He had realized his mistake and wanted to admit it and his love for her.
 But he had never been able to do it  before her.
She had only had hatred for him then.

And he had taken to writing her secret mails. And watched her grow and succeed in its shade.

She would never know he was the reporter who had covered her story on “The ArtSpace”.
She would never know the pains he had taken to mask his voice, lest she should find him out and refuse to talk.

She was happy as the achiever that she was. She was in love and ready for a happy life.
She needn’t know all this.

Ignorance indeed is bliss, he thought to himself, as he walked back to his home, letting his thoughts be washed away in the happiness of seeing her happy.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out a creative writing theme each weekend for Indian bloggers.

Saturday 19 October 2013

I knew it was my last day there.........

This wonderful writing exercise at Write Tribe requires us to post any creative literary piece of work in exactly 100 words. This week's Prompt is given by Sugandha of Shades of Life - I knew it was my last day there...

Though I lay on the bed, with a weakening heart,
My thoughts and sorrow, were miles apart
Memories of days, months and years bygone,
With glowing serenity, my mind dwelt on

Causes well fought for, results well attained,
No pain, no regrets for the wounds so sustained,
I would leave behind a glory for the posterity to claim,
Before I was consumed by the leaping flame..

Through my heartbeats, I was fully aware,
the realization dawned on me with a certainty so rare,
I knew it was my last day there,
My day had come, He had heard my prayer  !!
100 Words on Saturday - Write Tribe

Friday 18 October 2013

The Minute Poem - My Soul for You !

Say the word, ' Minute', and we instantly connect it with the number 60.

The Minute Poem also has a '60' connection. It is a poem of  twelve lines, made up of 60 syllables.
The whole poem is divided into three stanzas, with each couplet rhyming. Eight-four-four-four is the syllable scheme for each stanza.

My Minute Poem  is  My Soul for You....

I love to sing my song for you,
I see the hue
of love, in your
eyes that allure….

I live to see you smile with grace
a happy face,
calm as a lake,
no hidden ache !

I’d die to give my life and soul,
to fill the role
of your soul mate,
my happy fate !!

That takes my UBC Post Count to 18 :-)

Thursday 17 October 2013

A Septolet - Love !!

My research into the different poetic forms continues.

After the Diamante, Nonet, Cinquain and Etheree, here comes a Septolet.

A Septolet is a poetic form where the poem consists of seven lines, made up of fourteen words, with a break in between, which divides the poem into two distinct parts. Both the parts deal with the same thought or idea, and create a picture for the reader.

My septolet here is on Love...

You’re the sky
the earth

the rain
of your love
my thirst !

That  takes the UBC post count to 17 ;-)

Wednesday 16 October 2013

An Etheree - The Night ....

An Etheree is a poetic form, that comprises ten lines, with syllables in each tapering down from ten to one, or moving up from one to ten.

Here's a etheree for the Night...

Endless blue stretching to realms unknown
shining stars dancing in the darkness
bright moon spreading the yellow glow
cool breeze filling the night air
leaves singing in the wind
scent of small buds
dip my soul
in pure
warmth !!

UBC 16 , for me ! :-)

Tuesday 15 October 2013

A Cinquain - Garden :)

A Cinquain is a poetic form that employs a five-line pattern.
It is usually in the syllabic pattern of two-four-six-eight-two.

This is yet another intriguing, challenging form of poetry like the Diamante or the Nonet.

Here's a Cinquain for a Garden....

 full of blossoms,
 bright sight of varied hues,
 fragrances wafting in the air
 lovely !!

And that's UBC 15 :-)

You are in me....

A nonet is a form of poetry, where the first line has nine syllables and the second , eight and it tapers down till the ninth line has just one syllable. It might be challenging to abide by the rules of the syllables, and that makes it an attractive piece of art. Rhyming is optional for a nonet.

This is my very first attempt at a nonet.

You in me.....

   Though I do not show my love for you,
   I shy away without a clue,
   my love is really true,
   your eyes, give me solace
   burn my pain away
   to clear my heart
   to find your
   soul in

And that's UBC 14 for me :)

Monday 14 October 2013

A Life in Prayer !


An attempt at a Diamante with Life and Prayer as the pivots !

                                                    Simple, beautiful,
                                             working, striving, hoping,
                                            soulful, warm, strong, colourful,
                                                   Profound, Sweet
                                                          Prayer !!  
I'm still on the 13th Post for UBC. Shall catch up soon !!

Sunday 13 October 2013

Mission Accomplished !!


The sound of the clock  was the only one piercing the stony silence in the room. It was only 9 at night.

I was wide awake, all ready for my mission.

It was an unusually windy night. That’s what made it a perfect time for my mission.

The wind whooshing outside tickled the anxiety in my heart.

Will I go wrong this time ?

A few moments later I heard the door bang shut, and the click of the door-lock.


Someone was going up the stairs. 

All was silent in a few minutes.

I waited for the right moment, to begin the task at hand.

Plop !!

That was a first….I strained my ears for the next few moments….

Plop plop plop plop…..

Pitter patter….

Oooh….. the rain had begun !

I got up briskly from the bed and tiptoed my way out of the room.

Opening the door , taking care not to break the silence, I wandered out into the lonely night, into the verandah, and walked to my favourite mango tree in the courtyard….

The rain had gathered momentum, and small puddles of water had formed on the mud, near the tree….

I danced about in the rain, the water splashing as my legs moved and tickling my feet with its soft gush.

Achoooo !!!

That was a loud sneeze that escaped me…..

I heard someone stirring inside the house.

Oh, the kitchen….. I thought she was done with her work….but no !!

Oh no….She’s coming. What do I do now !

Before I could hide, Ma came out and saw me , standing under my favourite mango tree, enjoying the rain.

“ Abhay, how many times have I told you not to get wet in the rain ? You never understand! Can’t you listen to me for once at least !! This boy is such a brat.....”

She ran to me with her right hand out to give me a beating, even as I ducked and ran inside to the cosy warmth of my room….

Why should I wait for her to beat me…

My mission had been accomplished, hadn’t it ?

I wasn’t wrong this time about the rain, Was I ?

I’m in my room now, Ma has just given me a bowl of hot tomato soup, and bread croutons.

I’m so happy, as I eat the soup with a slurp which matches the crunch of the bread crumbs.

Cold rains, and hot soup afterwards ,this is bliss, I tell you ! :-)

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Friday 11 October 2013

The Rain on the Peacock :)

When we think of Rains, we think of the Peacock too !

I just tried if I could put the Rain and Peacock duo into a Diamante perspective.....and here's the result :)

                                    Sweet, cold,
                        dripping, chattering, refreshing,
                     beautiful,  lively,  soulful,   spirited,
                        dancing, rejoicing, enjoying,
                                    Pretty, colourful,
                                       Peacock !!

This brings the 11th day of UBC to a close :)

Thursday 10 October 2013

The Faith and Hope Diamond !

I happened to read this wonderful quote, when I was going through some books.

Hope is the ability to hear the music of the future ; Faith is the ability to dance to it today ! 

A wonderful quote, is it not ?

Hope and Faith - two very beautiful concepts, very nicely intertwined !

I am reminded of the story many of us are sure to have read as a part of Aesop's Fables.

God gifts a box to Man and asks him to safeguard it, as it contains all things that he needs for a wonderful life on earth, full of peace. However, God specifically instructs man to avoid opening the box; if he does so, he's sure to lose the gifts inside.
Man is not able to contain his curiosity for long, and he pays no heed to God's words as he opens the box.
And out fly the gifts, one by one.
Realising his folly, Man closes the box and summons God with his prayers, repenting now for his foolishness.
God replies, that Man has to pay the price for his impudence.
The only gift remaining inside is Hope.

And that's the only gift from God, that has propelled Man forward, ever since !!

This is a Diamante created for Hope and Faith, the supplementing concepts of life...

                                                             Strong, high,
                                                    unwavering, everlasting,healing
                                                Belief ,  Reliance,  Trust , Aspiration
                                                   Helping, convincing, resurrecting,
                                                              Deep, sincere

Signing off with this, for the day ! :-)