Sunday, 28 February 2016
Friday, 26 February 2016
Saturday, 20 February 2016
Skyscrapers
The most striking thing about this photograph is, it looks like a painting. The buildings are reflecting the colours of the setting Sun in a surreal way. The skyscrapers look like people with their arms up trying to hold the sky. I did not have to write the poem, it came to me.
Like Atlas, they stand tall, holding the sky with their arms.
Like giant chameleons, they change colours, from dawn till dusk with dancing shadows.
Like diamonds, they glitter, in the neckline of Hudson.
Like warriors, they hold their ground, no matter how the weather.
Winter, Summer, Spring , fall; they have seen everything and suffered all.
Clustered together like spears of Gods, are the skyscrapers of New York.
Photography Credits Go To Shaishav Agarwal.
Thursday, 18 February 2016
Spring 4
Waking up from a deep slumber, spring feeds life into the shaken soul of winter . Colours start flowing into the veins of the parched Earth, drowning sorrow, suffering and solitude. Spring, springing joy, happiness, warmth and cheerfulness.
Wednesday, 17 February 2016
Thursday, 11 February 2016
Promises.
Lovers promise the Sun, the Moon and the Stars; eternal love and lifelong commitment. Love elevates a person to superhuman capacities, turning mediocrity into excellence in the hearts and minds of the one who loves.
Expectations rise when in love, the heart swells with faith in another person more than one believes in themselves. The world shrinks into a very small bubble with just the two of them.
But...can one actually promise anything to anybody when they themselves do not know, what is waiting for them in future? Can one really promise to keep one happy when they themselves don't know what makes them happy?
Still ,we defy nature and make promises, promises for the future. Future, which is as unpredictable as life. Forgetting the need to believe in today, this very moment, the present which is as true and predictable as death itself.
When we love someone, it is not promises for the future that counts or are believable . It is "this moment" "right now" what matters and as time passes, promises have to be extended, kept and renewed every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month ,every year and years to come.
Yes! It is neither easy nor a bed of roses. As tiring as it might sound and feel, that is what a promise means. It is a job which needs one' s attention, focus, every breath, every moment for the rest of one' s life. A herculean task? True! That is what love is all about, one true moment at a time.
Photo Credits Go To Shalini Prasad
Expectations rise when in love, the heart swells with faith in another person more than one believes in themselves. The world shrinks into a very small bubble with just the two of them.
But...can one actually promise anything to anybody when they themselves do not know, what is waiting for them in future? Can one really promise to keep one happy when they themselves don't know what makes them happy?
Still ,we defy nature and make promises, promises for the future. Future, which is as unpredictable as life. Forgetting the need to believe in today, this very moment, the present which is as true and predictable as death itself.
When we love someone, it is not promises for the future that counts or are believable . It is "this moment" "right now" what matters and as time passes, promises have to be extended, kept and renewed every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month ,every year and years to come.
Yes! It is neither easy nor a bed of roses. As tiring as it might sound and feel, that is what a promise means. It is a job which needs one' s attention, focus, every breath, every moment for the rest of one' s life. A herculean task? True! That is what love is all about, one true moment at a time.
Photo Credits Go To Shalini Prasad
Tuesday, 2 February 2016
Dusk to Dawn.
The setting Sun sets ablaze the trees; diving into the horizon, splashing evening in its wake.
Fire in the sky douses from red to orange, orange to pink, pink to purple; finally a midnight blue.
Twilight waits patiently for the Moon to rise; for the silver fingers will caress it to sleep tonight.
Lady night descends gracefully in her dress, jet black; stars sparkling like sequins in her gown.
Owls hoot, crickets sing, fireflies dance ,decorating the trees; it's time for nocturnal glee.
Moon shoots up, turning oceans into liquid silver; irresistible, its pull, tides rise to kiss the moonlight.
Calm engulfs, living sleep; while dawn breaks the silence with chirping of birds.
Horizon sets ablaze, sky catches fire; oceans bleed red, reflecting the ball of fire.
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