Month: July 2018

My friend the kite
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The Blue Kite.

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The blue kite would fly very high. It was my father’s. Nearly on every holiday that he used to have, he would spend nearly half an hour flying it. It was 35 x 35 inches kite and was navy blue in colour. In those days there weren’t many skyscrapers, so when the kite used to go high up, it felt like that it had reached the sky. Many a times it got damaged, but dad managed to repair it with a patch of kite paper.

On the first day of the new year, he bought a small brown kite for me. But I didn’t fly it. I knew that it would get damaged. So I use to play with, never did I let it touch the warm air of the blue skies.

That blue kite was his favourite toy and still is, but as his responsibilities started growing, he stopped playing with it. That’s what happens when times change everything. Kites remain kites, but memories let them fly high, high and high, where they can’t be seen anymore and they land straight into Almighty’s hand, who then pulls the strings and it flies even more highest, beyond anybody’s reach.

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Birds are without Raincoats.

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In this rainy season we all take shelter under our umbrellas and raincoats, but my friends the birds have none to turn in for. They scuttle the moment rain comes and away they fly to the nearest shelter available. It is very hard to keep on flying with their wings soaked, so they generally sit under a still or a window shed, keep pruning their feathers or they keep on shaking it, so that the water falls off and they can fly to their favourite destination the sky-the limitless though limited; but not for them. We all should be like birds. Free from everything with the ability to reach the highest of the high peak in one’s life.

Adios!

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July Night Sky.

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It’s July and it is raining non-stop. The mornings are grey and dull and the nights are dark and cloudy. It looks as if Almighty has dipped his paint brush in such a colour; that such magnanimous darkness has descended upon earth. Sometimes when the lightning strikes and the thunder roars, I feel as if He is truly angry with us. But it’s not His anger, but his love that makes us survive even under the most boring and worthless and serious and dangerous situations as well.

During these nights the stars cannot be seen and standing at the window pane I can only play with them with my imagination. On the street below, neon light bulbs are flickering and cars are coming and going. There is a non-stop flow of vehicles. By looking at the lights of the cars coming and going, it feels as if a festival is nearby. These lights remind me of the earthen lamps which are lighted during any festival. It feels as if an ocean of lights is floating right infront of my eyes. But as soon as it starts raining, everything becomes silent and serious and everytime it rains and people look helpless and either they open their umbrella to protect them or they start running to save themselves from getting wet but most of the times they end up getting drenched. The car wipers come on and the bikers have a hard time keeping their visors clean.

After this rainy night, everything remains wet. The street, the cars and the rooftops all remain wet.

Morning birds’ wings are also wet. On the other hand the dreams are fresh and bright.

The birds come and eat from my window still, where I give them biscuits and bread. They are a choosy lot.They nibble only the best part of the biscuit and the bread and leave the rest to the flowing wind and it’s microbes. We all can get under the umbrellas but these little birds cannot.

A July night sky is a marvel to watch and it’s a gift from nature to mankind.

Adios!

 

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Jokes- The boy and peanut.

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A boy was blowing off peanut shells continuously, while he was eating the peanuts.What he didn’t notice that while doing so, the peanut shells were actually getting accumulated on his pants.His mother came into the room and saw what he was doing.He saw his mother looking at him and he sprang up from his seat and all the peanut shells fell on the floor.

His mother told him-“my sweet child, you are eating peanuts and dirtying the floor? Keep on doing it.”

Son-“Really ma?”

Mother-“Yes, my dear.”

Son-“You wouldn’t scold me?”

Mother-“not at all dear”.

Son-“Thanks Ma.”

Mother-“Don’t bother thanking me. Simply complete your homework thrice and learn the mathematics table upto 30 by tonight.”

Son-“I am sorry ma.”

Mother-“Homework two times and tables upto 25 by tonight”.

Son-“Yes, ma”.

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Flourishing as a writer.

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To flourish as a writer, and even more as a blog writer is nothing less than carrying out the job of the famous Titan Atlas.It is even more harder than holding the sky or the earth on one’s shoulder. The writing which a writer writes must reach and touch the heart of the mass.Without mass appeal and grace a writing hardly gets recognition and the writer cannot flourish and the writing lies hidden in the heap of trashed files. A writer can bring out the cry of a baby, a mother’s pain, a child’s disappointment and a boy’s success in his writings. He can even make a flower blossom and a bird sing in his words. A writer uses words as a all powerful being. It can make and break a kingdom and can make anything happen as per his will and wish. But seldom does this happen, that a writer gets what he wants. To get an audience that too a good audience is quite difficult. It takes time to connect with an audience or any in that case. Sometimes it takes even months or years.

The only thing that can’t stop a writer from writing is when he gets his mojo.The moment he has it, no one can stop his writing from flourishing. Words flow like water flows from a dam.

Flourishing as a writer is not defined by how much the writer earns.It is completely based on two facts that whether the writer is happy writing or not and whether he can keep on writing irrespective of anything.

Adios!