ROAD TO CREATIVITY

The paper was blank and my pen had stopped moving. I remained staring at the paper. I had shut myself in my room and had my eyes closed; browsing through my brain- what to write? I needed to write something- but what to write?

Should I write about nature or sky- or the moon, or the stars? But these were things that I never found time to admire! Or about love or hate? But, for me, these were games by time, the supreme truth- they need no words to be wasted on! What do I write then? I needed to write something- but what?

I opened my eyes- I came out of my room and saw new words on my paper! I had indeed written something!

Words can never be forced; nor can they be compelled. They come out from nothing and go into nowhere. So all you'll need to do is to open your mind- come out of virtual boundaries! And you shall find yourself floating away- into an endless paradise called- Creativity!

ENCLOCKED

The press on the keys-

and the click on the mouse

The tick of the clock-

and the silence of the house

Brings out from nowhere

the shadows of the past

of the rain, of the breeze,

And smiles, I smiled the last!

The albums in my heart

Turn their pages, so old

Smiles on the faces- known, unknown

warm up my heart- void and cold!

Wish I could pause

and go back to the start

But the clock shan't unclock

And I needed to part..

The press on the keys..

The click on the mouse..

LET HIM SLEEP

Let him sleep

wake him not

let him sleep for once

let him smile

let him dream

let him sleep for once.

It's a cruel world

that awaits his benign grin

that awaits his cry and tears

let him sleep

wake him not

let him sleep for once.

A deadly ambush of a life

awaits his struggle to live

it hungers for his sweat

and hungers for his toil

let him sleep for once.

He sleeps in a world

where smiles are real

and words spoken are meant

sans guile, sans sleight

Hence, let him sleep for once.

The leering world-

doesn't deserve his sweat

his blood, his brains or his life

let him sleep

wake him not

let him rest his nimble limbs

let him smile

let him dream

let him sleep, for once.

TAGGED!!!!

First of all.. thnk u for tagging me vrinda! and now..



The RULES:



1. Post these rules

2. Each person tagged must post 8 random facts about themselves

3. Tags should write a journal/ blog of these facts

4. At the end of the post 8 more persons are tagged and named

5. Go to their page and leave a comment telling them they're tagged





The me-



(1) I have never learned to close my mouth. I can go on for an entire day non-stop!



(2) I love smiling and I like seeing happy faces around me. Also, I like motivating people around me.



(3) I sometimes find myself doing wrong things right and right things at the wrong time!



(4) I dont like people who say things to me which they think, I think.



(5) I get provoked very quickly, which is very bad and I don't stop voicing out my views! This often places me in awkward situations but i have always managed to turn these situations pleasant!



(6) There are many things without which I cannnot survive! For example, books, music, pen, scrapbook, bathroom, tooth brush, etc.



(7) I sing extremely well in my bathroom! Trust me- if there's going to be any reality show in future.. say "BATHROOM IDOL".. then I'll be THE Star!



(8) I hate Karan Johar and Ekta Kapoor!





so.. now I tag-



Karthik



Aishwarya



Pallavi



Parul



Nithya



Priya



Anonymous



Anonymous

A LIFE WITHOUT POTTER

The wait was, finally over. As i was nearing the final page of the book, I dearly wished that the book would never end. And I'm sure that most others, of my ilk, across the world, would have felt the sameway too! After I finished the book, I was looking at it's cover, for a very long time. The knock on my door, the fan above my head, the bed beneath me, the phone that rang- they all seemed to tear me apart and I felt as though I was plunging back into a deep, cold and a never-ending tunnel of reality!

The wait, was indeed over! It was quite sometime later that day, that I realised something- Harry Pooter books, had been my only passion in life. I grew up listening to stories from my granny and dad. I grew up watching "Alif Laila" and "The Jungle Book" in Doordharshan. All that,had come to an abrupt end- due to reasons I do not remember. The life looked listless and I was going on in life without taking one glimpse of the life that I had left behind, when, I quite accidentally, happened to read, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Once I finished it, I went for the next, and then the next. And that's how it was till the end- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows! I liked the wait. I liked the way it made me feel when I looked at it's cover. And every time, it was just the same- a journey, an expedition into a whole new world- A magical world of witches and wizards, love and war, unicorns and centaurs, the good and the bad!

Who would've thought that the world would just fall in love with someone so evil, yet with a style- Severus Snape, else, shall we say it with all respect, The Half-Bood Prince? Who would've thought that the world would, one day cry for a soul, that was, after all free- Dobby! Who would've thought that a mere book was going to be so much a part of their lives, that they would go wishing that the book would never end? Will you still call it a "Childrens' Literature"?

But it's now over. There is not going to be any more Harry Potter. Or is it? May be, there's indeed some Harry Potter or Hermione Granger or Ronald Weasley out there- reading this very article, secretly smiling and thanking us all- Muggles!

RAJANIGANDHA

It was raining. I liked to see the rain fight with the window pane. But the glass always seemed to win. He used to sit beside me and watch me looking at the war. He used to say, "Why do u think that it is a war"? I would reply, "But that's what it is, isn't it"? He would say, "I don't think so. I think that the rain is a prince, madly in love with you. And the wicked window is blocking his way"! And he would open the window.

Every morning, he would stand in front of my bed, smiling at me- with a bunch of Rajanigandha. He would tell me, "Feel the flower. For when you feel it, the flower becomes you". I never understood what he meant by that. But Rajanigandha had been my favourite flower, since then.

He would hold my hand as we walked into the woods. I would try to talk something but he would stop me. He used to say, " The trees are telling me their secrets. You can hear them too. Just listen". But I never heard anything.

He had loved me all his life as I had loved him. He always had strange pronouncements to make, about things, as normal as the rising sun. But one day, I saw him, lying still, yet smiling- covered in white linen and Rajanigandha all around him.

But since that day, I had felt him in every drop of rain that fell on me and in every tree that I came across. I had felt him in the fragrance of the Rajanigandha.

Love you, Grandpa!

PRECARIOUS SURVIVAL