Talk to the rain,
Talk to the sun,
And let me know what you think
Fly with the clouds
Fly with the birds
And let me know what you hear
See the moon
See the stars
And let me know how calm you feel
Listen to the stream
Listen to the wind
And let me know what they sing
Cry a little
Cry with someone
And let me know how light it feels.
Gift a smile
Gift a hug
And let me know how wide you smile
Love a lady
Love a noble heart
And let me know how love loves
Listen to music
Listen to the beats
And let me know how they flow
Write a poem
Write the feelings
And then I will feel alive…
This poem was originally posted in my blog…
Rainy days are amazing. You see droplets of water, running rivulets, maybe a few paper boat or maybe this amazing art. Oil mixed with water, and finding its own path along the road. (Looks like a browser window). And the thing that it was taken from a height, gives it a different look.
See what difference perspective can make!! So go outdoors and keep shooting.
This particular shot was captured on Pixel 2 XL, and tweaked in Snapseed.
It was just another regular late evening, when the night was starting to reveal itself. The moon looked empty (half), and the surreal scene unfolded before me. I knew immediately it will turn out to be good (photographer’s keen eye); and here’s the result.
Shot on Samsung S6 edge and tweaked in Snapseed.
I was just trying to capture a drop of water on the edge of a rose leaf with a macro lens, when the idea struck me. Thought it won’t do any harm to experiment a lil’ bit. And after a few trial shots, this came out perfectly.
Shot on Pixel 2 XL with a macro lens.
Sometimes little experiments don’t hurt, right??
There is something powerful in the pictures. Young, almost new born leaves were fallen and lay besides the old and aged ones. The supple young green color against the crackled old brown. Life is unpredictable. Whatever the reason or circumstances were, they lay there on the road. As I was walking, the green against the brown contrast caught my eye and I stood there to ponder on this moment. Leaves or humans, we are all living beings, and all are bound by the laws of nature.
This photo was taken on Google Pixel 2 XL, and edited in Snapseed.
To view my previous posts on Photo Challenge,
Thank you for visiting by!!
Goa is a hip place, whatever season you visit. Here’s a journey of a married couple (us), posted by The Higher Authority. The journey includes not only beaches, but Goan culture, shopping, an Arts Festival, studio apartments, Airbnb Holiday Homes, 4 star hotels, and whole lot of delicacies. I’m sure, reading this travelouge will be fun.
On our very first date, I remember him telling me how he wished to go to Goa and have an experience that no other place can offer you.
I, on the other side of the table, judging him which I shouldn’t have but I had my reasons and one of many reason was, if I’m going to meet this person ever again?
Wanna know what happened next?
Well we’re married for more than a year now and that trip also got ticked off his list, last year and now I’m sharing this to the world as an unforgettable memory.
Almost in the end of December we planned to fly down to this smallest state of India; Goa, that claims to give you the best quality of life.
We had a six day long trip which is a decent amount of time that we devoted to the place. Made a three…
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The feeling petrified me. Yet another session with doctor as I fell ill again. It was like a common occurrence for me those days; me falling ill. I had to travel with mom and dad standing in front of scooter front of dad looking at the glowing speedometer and wondering what the green illuminating economy zone signified.
It was a proud feeling when the scooter was kicked to start and me getting the chance to turn up the accelerator and see the burnt fuel bellowing out from the exhaust creating a smoke filled cloud temporarily.
Muscling around the crowd, sometimes stalling in the traffic, sometimes continuous honking of horns; finally it was relief when I reached the doctor’s clinic. It so happed that the doctor, Doctor Anil Da; and my dad were close acquaintances. The clinic was not far away from the station, so there was always hustle and bustle around that area. Doctors and hospitals always terrified me, especially injections and the smell inside of hospitals.
Well I was ill again, as I entered the clinic holding mom’s hand. The green drapes that curtained the doctor from the sitting patients blew slightly in the air due to the fan. I saw a man in middle age getting his blood pressure checked with the machine and Anil Da holding the green bellow which pumped air I guessed.
That machine always disturbed me
When it was my turn, I was scared and hid behind mom’s saree. But dad took me in his arms and made me sit on the stool near Anil da. It was our way of interacting. Whenever I greeted “Namaste chachaji”, he would ask me for a ball.
I always used to carry one with me whenever I went to see him
As per the tradition that was established between us, I slowly tried to take out the ball, which was creating the bulge in my pocket. Yeah…it was difficult to pull it out. I stood from my seat, and tried pushing the ball from the end of the pocket area. It was a plastic ball, with red and yellow stripes made of hard plastic.
He smiled and so did my parents. I made myself seated on the seat again. Soon I was pointing towards the blood pressure monitoring machine as I was scared of it. I knew Anil Da understood me and with a smile on his face, he took it and kept it inside his drawer. He was more of a friend than a traditional doctor. Always dressed up smartly and wearing specs with stethoscope dangling around his neck , it seemed funny to me how he wore them. His specs were the one with small lens, so that he could look over them for seeing far. While writing prescriptions, he would look through them. The slight dark complexion, smile on face, those long front teeth and those specs gave him a kind of friendly look of which I wasn’t scared.
Whenever I fell ill, I always asked mom and dad for Anil Da.
So we would chatter for a few moments…about the ball, how I was doing in school and anything unrelated to my illness. Soon dad would be explaining my condition, and I would fall silent. It was something serious topic now; involving mom, dad and Anil Da. He would prescribe me some meds, ask my condition, about any uneasiness or fever whatever it was affecting me. The ball would still be there sitting on the table, being witness to all the discussions and talks. When it was time to leave, there was a smile again on his face, he would ask me to collect the ball, pat on my back and ask me to be careful and cautious. Now again to put the ball back was a tedious affair. The pocket flap had to be opened up wide enough to push the ball inside, and it would make me uncomfortable for a few minutes. I would thank Anil Da and so would my parents and then wave him goodbye. Then I would hop back on the scooter, this time silently without asking to rev up the accelerator.
It was a few years back, when I was back home in holidays. Talking to mom and dad to while away the time, it came out of nowhere that Anil Da was no more. It was some medical complications that took him away from us. It was hard news to digest. Unknowingly there was some kind of relation between us which I had not thought about seriously until now. I remembered the ball, his stethoscope always around his neck, the pressure monitoring machine which distracted me always, the green drapes that separated him from the herd of patients. He was a kind and generous person, not in the profession for money but for social service. Had he been in it for the sake of money, I wouldn’t have been able to form that kind of relationship with him. It was later on that I had realized why he always asked for the ball.
He just wanted to see that I had ample playing time
. There was one time when I didn’t bring the ball to him. When we were leaving, he presented me a ball. I was skeptical to accept it and looked into my parents eyes for answers. By the time I would have got my answer, Anil Da held out my hand and placed the ball in my palms and wrapped my fingers around it.
Such was Anil da, a happy soul always, cared for people and it return earned their respect from the bottom of the people’s heart. This short piece is a dedication to the best doctor Bhagalpur has ever had.
Living a rat’s race
At our own pace,
Instead of dreams being nurtured
We see them being murdered.
Swallowing the pride, unwillingly
9 to 5, routine daily
Some call us working class hero
What we actually become, zero.
It’s Friday night,
And when booze flows;
It says everything will be all right
Awake till sunshine,
And will have some more, while I have time .
The boring dingy life
Will begin once again
But then someday, I will lose that tie.
And I will be in the company of you again.
We get killed, there are cries
We kill them, no one cries.
We are hurt, we take care,
We hurt them, we seldom care.
We destroy them to live, little realizing
We will be destroyed if they don’t live.
The trees never speak
They bear it all silently.
Our home is destroyed, we feel the pain
And build anew.
We destroy there’s, they silently move.
Why lament when we are eaten?
We feel pride in hunting and killing them
What’s pride In it? Feel ashamed.
Animals and fauna have their share, let them enjoy their freedom.
Enough destruction, now it’s time to act,
React and repent for our mistakes
Earth will be barren, Sun still shining
“Paradise on earth” will be a lost dream
Let’s join hands together
Save, Reuse, Recycle
To make this planet a better place.
We all have been there; felt it. The soothing voice of loved ones act as a balm over the burnt wound. To express the feelings, here’s a short little poem I wrote for The Higher Authority, and now sharing it here…
Cadence of your lovely voice
Surrounds the self,
While they are only whispers
They cast their spell.
Shallow breaths turn racy
And heartbeats become pacy
With such upheaval within me
Eyes are no more sleepy.
As I rummage my hair
A smile breaks, it’s only fair
The feeling is heavenly
And I will guard it ever preciously.