Lessons of Life (LOL)

I was alone in bed, laying down, in attention, like any soldier would stand in front of her major. I had my eyes shut  and not before long, I had almost gone into a delicate sleep after much waiting, when the soft sound of rustling leaves left me wide awake. At once, I sat up in my bed, seething with rage at the cheekiness of those leaves and soft breeze mingling! Their love story could wait, couldn't it! And, so, I made a beeline for the fir tree. It was Christmas and so, the only direction from where that kind of sound could come from was now right before me. Swiftly, I headed towards the near-by open window, and a thud was all that it took for me to separate the two lovers.  "You can love each other after my beauty sleep is complete, okay?" I said turning towards the culprits. "And you all are-" ,but I was heckled upon seeing some perplexing figure hiding behind the fir stem, but hence, had turned more prominent than anything else in the room.  I shrunk my ...

Every unforgettable incident in one's life has a reason for being so, just as lamentable happenstances are indelible because of the token of scars that they leave on one's skin and soul. Humans are so fortunate for being mortal and for not having the load to bear their scars till the end of time. However, a scar is awarded by the Almighty not only to the humans but also to many immortals. He even renders it to the countries, the territories that humans claim to own, but this untold story always escapes our eyes.  Every country in the world has witnessed tragic wars; wars that are fought to own it, but wars which leave it with scars instead. Every country has experienced the pain of feeling it's heritage rooting out and of seeing it's people being massacred at it's chest. While, the blood of the soldiers is what the country absorbs in it's land and send to its heart. The soul of the territory takes all the scars given to it by its people. At the same time, the ...

"My life is like your throat, Almighty!" I told Lord Shiva realizing it while still wrapped in a hug with him. "What? How?" he asked me, almost giggling at the stupid comparison made by me. "Yes, of course, it is! Your throat is so blue, Lord." Said I, depicting obviousness. "And, also, it's cold like my life." "Cold and blue." repeated Lord Shiva with a tone of analyses. I just nodded, pulling him tighter. He hummed and called me "as right as rain." "There is yet another similarity , angel!" he pointed out. "My throat has given me honour amongst people, just like your life will do" he declared. I pulled back at once. "Really?" I interrogated in an awe. "No kidding!" said a grinning Lord, as he gently brushed the hair off my face. "But," said he, making me alert "this throat has given me tonnes of responsibilities, followed by a multitude of regrets, break do...

She was a budding writer with her horn-rimmed spectacles as the proof. Write-ups governed her life like nothing else. She was busy writing stories for her blog when she saw a comment on one of the posts. Bleep! The comment was by an American man, who was appreciating her work "as write as rain!" What could an Indian writer want more than an American native praising  her English! She was never too confident of herself and doubted the truthfulness of the man too. She had to seek the real flaws of her blog that the man, out of courtesy, had not mentioned publicly. "Hi, Paul." And she initiated a chat with the man. "I would like to thank you for showing your appeasement with my blog. Yet, I would like you to be a bit more critical about it." That was the first text in the history of their chat box. Little did she know of the gift God had placed her way. Paul Atkinson, the American native, had replied saying that he recommended no changes for the b...

She feels a lot but would never speak, She prefers to write rather, Than being misunderstood, She wants to be an authoress. She writes when she smiles or even weeps, She spills her emotions on the paper, She prays and hopes she would, One day, surely become an authoress. She takes a white paper that's thin and meek, Then, paints it with her emotional colour, She wishes that she could, For once, turn into an authoress. She doesn't express till her emotions leak, And the words console her like a mother, She wants that she should, Become a renowned authoress. Just as a sheet, she knows she's weak, And so they comfort each other, The value of works she has understood, She'll surly become an authoress!

*A free verse poem...* "So, you are the one who preaches prophecies, And you are the one who's optimistic, So, why do you muse over the tiny thing, When you know there's so much more to life?" 'I care not for myself but my family, They care for this diminutive detail, I've been mindless and exhausted, But I curse myself for it.' "You've given your best, I know, No better could you do, Worked hard you have, I am aware, Be confident of your God." 'It doesn't matter if I give my all, The output doesn't suffice, No appeased am I of myself, I've failed my family.' "Practice more. You can improve. You have the potential, You can live your dream, Comprehend and live with little failures." 'Practice, practice, practice! Everyone says so twenty four-seven, I've worn my fingers out, Suspended all I could for practicing!' "Are you so happy when you win As gloomy you...

It was dawn already and she was tightly packed in my arms. She trusted me so much that she let herself effortlessly rest in them. All of her was on me and I couldn't have loved her more! I was looking into her eyes as she softly weighed me down. She was transparent in nature and had nothing in herself to hide. She glistened without jewels and her beauty was of no comparison. Each dawn, without fail, we met; since the day I was a child till that day itself. And even when I had hugged her the whole dawn I still desired her. I was helplessly in love but, even though I was holding on tight, I knew in my heart that she had to go and that I won't be able to stop her. Every morning she would leave me alone, no matter how hard I tried to make her stay but at dawn with the same freshness she would return back to me, run in my arms at the very sight and would stay there till her departure every morning. I knew she didn't want to go even today, but God won't fulfill this ...

"I'm leaving you!" I told Writing.  He just stared at me with his innocent eyes and expressionless tiny face.  "I'm leaving you, I said!" I screamed and Writing just softly blinked while looking at me with his tilted head, and the same second, I could feel a hand on my shoulder. "Why are you doing that?" asked a lady with a glittery sparkle in her voice; a sparkle picked freshly from the top waters of the ocean; a sparkle that brought along with itself the calmness of the seas. The voice soon showed me it's face as I saw The Goddess of English coming before my eyes. "You ask me why! Oh, look at him!" I harshly spoke and we both glanced upon the tiny figure in front of us. "Look at the effort I've dressed him up with. I have decorated him with everything I had! However, no one seems to like him! He gives me no returns!" I ranted. The Goddess of English gave a silent smile as if she had overlooked all hi...

I was siting in front of a mirror; a mirror that promised to show one the real self. I touched my reflection in the mirror as if I were feeling a whole new person in front of me. I kept on staring at  myself expressionlessly. The mirror I was confronting never lied and now it was saying hat I looked like a joker.  A tear dripped down my cheek as my eyes had started overflowing. The silent teardrop ran down my cheek but I kept on looking at the mirror. It was difficult and painful  to hide my grief . I blinked at the person in the mirror, but didn't speak. I was sensing the feelings of that person. All the agony, perplexity, helplessness, we had faced it together. No one, but we understood each other's emotions. Moreover, the person had just cried with me. A soft thud startled me and I hurried to make up my face and remove all trace of that tear. The tear had revealed a portion of the real me. It had washed off the fakes I had put up on my face and I had to revert back ...

Oh! The possessor of the blue throat, You are the most elegant dancer, A fearless warrior to note, And the most passionate lover, No one can love me true, But only you. Down to Earth, you've always been, Slash opening my cocoon of dismay, And letting the glad me be seen, Yet, "I'm just a normal person," You always say, My butterfly of elation flew, Only because of you. Girls pray to you patiently, To acquire a lover like you As you always give your devotee, What she wants. I know, it's true, Sunshine of every day brand new, Is also given by none other than you. And then, there is me praying, And asking you, yourself, to be my lover I'm forever chanting and saying, "None can be like you. So, marry me!" However, I know it can't be true, But, I want to marry only you I know you won't descend down for me, And your Holy Family will seethe with anger But I trust your protection over your devotee, I apologize, b...

A Ballad I saw my own future With a scar at it's face Who came as a Harbinger My life who would trace Just before my eyes. "You've cried endless nights," Said my Harbinger to me "You've outgrown terrible fights" Again it's scar I could see, As it sat, just before my eyes "You've had untoward moments That create this scar for me to capture You've faced everyone's disagreements And now you see your future Right before your eyes" "And even though you see me You don't know what I hold Lovingly or truthfully the story has to be told" It smiled before my eyes "Your life has been a nightmare But I'll make your dreams come true Full of honesty, love and care success is what I hold for you" And it turned to glitter and got dissolved in the skies.                                                             ...

He drinks all the agony, And every pain for me, He is my dear daddy! He hugs his suffering, To see me beautifully growing, How sacrificing is my daddy! He ignores each of my blunder, Why does he do that, I wonder, How forgiving is my daddy! And I know whenever I'll tumble, He'll save me with his hands so humble, How protective is my daddy! However, he won't show so easily, everything that he does for me, I love my dear daddy!!!

I lay down on the lap of my blesser Without a care, I chose to relax, With my anxieties turning lesser I can feel it as my sadness cracks I've  done my each deed And borne all the sorrow planned for me I've  suffered because of my greed But now, I am liberated and free  As my broken wings of Salvation Were being repaired by my creator So perplexed for years was his creation The world had treated me no better But soon my wings were fixed And it was the time to fly back to God The worldly me had a feeling ...

Sometimes you just want something but you don't know what it is. Sometimes you feel low but you are not aware why. I feel the same, at the moment. I am a teen so people say that I am just having my mood swings. Isn't it easy and congenial to just state that the teenagers act that way because of their age? Very rarely does anyone understand that they are going through a transformation and their feelings are as genuine as any other species on Earth! They are stuck in a dilemma difficult to fight. They are kids, with soft hearts but they are expected to act mature and enter the heartless world belonging to the adults. The world of adults is an area where terrorism, robbery, massacres, cheating and what not, have become daily occurrences. Oblivious to others feelings, people can be seen lost in their own petite agony of lust and greed. One can't trust anyone completely and you never know when you fall in a trap! Not to forget the worst part about their world. It is that none ...

I've always grown in the desire of becoming the best of the best sellers. Too ambitious and dreamy, many might say but making big goals leads you to your full potential I believe. Several people have contributed  to giving the immature vision of my eye, the spark of desire. My mother was the one who embedded the seed of love for English in me. She introduced me to the language, and shook my hands with it. At first, it petrified me for my newly found friend was difficult to comprehend. But as any other friendship, that of mine and English developed to be only stronger over time. I soon cultivated the habit of writing too, because of my mom. I give myself the credit of letting the seed, sown by her, grow. I wrote almost daily accepting my mom's challenges and competing with her for writing different pieces. She would pretend to lose to give me encouragement, most of the times. The seed had become a seedling already. My mother had toiled the field around the seed. It grew furthe...

I am the kind of a person who believes in the things that are mostly invisible. I believe in love, hate, care and my Almighty. Nope, I am not emotional! I also believe in the invisible air around us, just like the Branch of Science. My craziness would turn visible in the next line but I still chose to state it. I believe that a voice resides in my heart and it belongs to my Almighty. I can actually feel his Eternal vision taking care of me merely through his protective stare. He, my Lord, has thrown situations my way which prevent my heart to fall in the prey of the beast that lives inside of me. My God shushes the beast down each time it tries to arouse. My Lord pushes me in circumstances that allow me to gain a lesson of life. Nothing can hurt me until He wants it to. Through the incidents that make me cry, My Lord indicates me to turn stronger. Every time a tear flows out of my eye, it takes away with itself an amount of fear and pain that my heart overflows with. Every teardrop...

The time was 3 AM, but none of her friends were so. The hour was quiet and peaceful but her mind wasn't. The moment was new, optimistic and freshly-picked from a pristine day unlike her life.  She tossed in her bed, sleeplessly. She was in the inescapable clutches of helplessness. An inevitable chaos had captured her mind.The teen wanted to experience being over joyed but the desire had remain confide in the fact that she had responsibilities. Those responsibilities which had become a cage containing joyous feelings and prohibiting them to reach the girl. She had tried her best but couldn't reach her goal. she was stuck in a pointless struggle to satisfy others and fulfill the social obligations.  Faith was gradually departing , confidence had held it's hand telling her that they won't be there for long. English Literature was her only passion, her only cause of survival, but it too didn't show signs of permanent residing with her. She couldn't figure out whi...

I don't know if I need to say anything more after this- Spiritual Influence By Paul S. Atkinson Strange and different things Come our way without warning Whether they are circumstance or happenstance They are too deliberate to be coincidence Those mystic wisps that direct and redirect Sway and swoon, entice and enclose Yet in the middle of our lives Seem so innocent and incidental These are the unseen winds Gently, almost unnoticeably Moving us across the waters of life The rudder guiding from the hiding place  beneath (And, a picture by him as well.)

Imagine yourself sitting in the World’s most comfortable chair, so cushiony and soft that it relaxes    you to sleep.  Let the seat also be of profound beauty, beauty with simplicity.  With  this  hypothetical situation, think that you are in a fresh dew-covered  grassy  ground.  There  are  multiple evergreen trees in the background, swaying because of  the  cool  breeze  which  just  kissed your cheek.  You put your feet up on the congenial stool kept just  at  the  right  distance,  and  you feel your ever muscle distressing.  There is a grand glass kept...

When I first came to the Earth, I was given to a man with a white coat. Everyone  was calling  him  a  ‘ Doctor’.   He  took  me  softly  in  his  arms  but  out of  a sudden,  he started  patting   my  back   ruthlessly.  I  was  shaken,   and  I   cried.  I didn’t  know  what  sin  I  had committed  that  he  hit  me; I  hadn’t even  kicked him,  like I  used to kick  my mother  sometimes, when I  was  really mad at her.   When the  first tear  flew out of my eye  and I whined,  even my  own parents  were smiling! ...