I neither have the heart to wish life
Nor the courage to face death!
Hence life rolls on!
He wanted to be loved..
She wanted to love..
He knew her..
She knew him..
He liked her..
She liked him..
He is full of logic..
She is full of nonsense..
He saw that togetherness is impossible..
She saw that he deserved someone better than her..
He understood life as is..
She understood life as fate..
Yet they understood each other too well..
To the extreme extent that
They could never be
Opposite poles of
the same magnet..
But just be the Same poles
Of Different magnet!
Yup, Sharing is NOT Caring..
You have a happy news and I am in the rock bottom of life. I could either see it as light at the end of the tunnel or I could rather dig my self pity deeper..
Sharing your happiness makes the World a better place to live in, while pouring out your disaster story gives a life lesson for few, while it teaches others, how boring it is to hear a sob story..
If you are finding some fault / mistake of mine, Sharing it with anyone other than me brings out many characteristics, but definitely not Caring..
Even a deed with good intention could backfire, depending on the timing and circumstance..
Do share love and care, but be wise in doing so..
Also try to be open to receive the love and care shown towards you, for not everyone is entitled to received them unasked and without expecting anything in return..
என்பி லதனை வெயில்போலக் காயுமே
அன்பி லதனை அறம். (77)
enpi ladhanai veyilpoalak kaayumae
anpi ladhanai aRam.
A life without love will be stung by the righteous conscience
like a body without bones that is burnt by the sun. [Couplet 77]
This is one of the oft-quoted couplet. The usual explanation to this goes as given in the English version.
But I have recently heard a better explanation to this couplet on its nuance. And I just wanted to share it here for I loved the explanation.
The righteous virtue burns away the soul of the loveless people. But why is it compared to that of the Sun burning the boneless? Because, it has a special unique feature.
The Sun burns the boneless only when the creature attempts to stay in the Scorching sun. As Sun never goes in search of boneless to burn them..
Similarly, Righteousness doesn’t burn the loveless as long as they stay confined within their solitude.. It starts punishing only when the loveless people come out to stay in the society without having the least compassion for the society.
So being Loveless is not a crime by itself to deserve the punishment of righteousness.
Share your love and let the World be a better place to live upon.
The everyday life can be more beautiful when you know to see the everyday things in a different angle.. I clicked this some time ago and found this mundane beauty while browsing through my archives..
If you like this click, you would love the beautiful clicks listed here in Trablogger’s blog under the Mundane Monday Challenge.
The object in the click is a not-so-rare view and why don’t you take a guess on what is it.. (Hint: It is not a personalised item like Bags)
Waiting for your guesses.. 🙂
Had N number of Passions.
Had N number of Possibilities.
Out of the N number
Not even one
Could cater to all Passions
And not even few
Could cater to most Passions.
Then came the prioritising
Of Passions and
Discrimination of Possibilities
In the name of Practicality.
Then came a new possibility
Possessing my heart and soul
Though it was not listed
In the N number of Passions
Or in the N number of Possibilities.
The Possessive Passion
Paved way for every other Passion
With a new Possibility
And gave Hope that
Anything is Possible
When the Heart and Soul
Is tuned to achieve that
One single Goal
Without any diversion!
And it also proved that
N number is not a nightmare
And also that
N number is not all,
For the destiny could be beyond
the N number of Passions
and the N number of Possibilities!
The journey continues…
The highway extends…
We are the birds that forget the path travelled;
We are also the bend that unites two poles
We crossover the desert,
We enjoy when we reach the oasis…
Nothing is permanent!
This too will pass on!!
The stars and the crescent moon has become alone;
The rain under the umbrella and the tides of the sea have parted ways…
Your portrait is being drawn with my teardrops;
Your photograph is calling out my name…
We lighted the lamps like the Candle and the Wick,
Yet, we are just wasted like the unburnt lamps..
Give farewell, Take a decision, I will leave..
Alright, Give it up, Move aside, I am leaving..
The chimes of your anklet is heard like music from afar;
The echoes of your voices is heard in the directions I turn around..
We talked together like the River and the Shore,
At the end of the story we are parting ways..
The details of the song translated are available over here!
This song is one of my recent favorite for the music and I started liking it from the very first time.. Loved the lyrics for the clichés..
Hope you too enjoyed the song.. Do let me know about your thoughts on the song..
I’m no one
to you in the list of
while you are
everything to me!
This week HeSheStory is merged with Dr. H Bhatnagar’s two-phrase story challenge!
Challenge? Who has the patience to follow the rules / link backs?
If that’s what you were thinking, you are in the right place. Coz the rules are almost nil!
(Hmm.. Are there any, Dr. HB? Since I don’t follow most rules, I skipped this too.. :P)
But if you are willing to stick to rules, refer here!
Willing to take part in this challenge?
Feel free to reply to the first phrase either in my comment section or the original posts’ comment section.
(See how simple this is!)
Feel free to unleash your creativity with a new second phrase
(or bit more, coz he has a big heart to accommodate more than a second phrase.. 😉 )
There’s little more!
He compiles all the entries and posts!
Trust me, it is awesome to see the multitude of replies for a single phrase.
Check out the last week’s compilation here!
So what’s your reply to “I’m no one…”
Looking forward for your take on this.. 🙂
When words were never mine to begin with. I was only their carrier upon transport- both serving time together- holding some- mere milliseconds- while others cellmates serving a life sentence. Each letter and word- wound within my dna- and- transcribed by my process of knowing- has arrived from the hands of someone else.
Who am I to say- I own these words?
Yes- they may empower- even set you free- but to own them- is to put them in a zoo. To cut out their lungs- give them hugs for legs- and tell them to run- then send them on their way to have a nice life- and a breath of fresh air- from the inside- out.
If I copyright words- Van Gogh copyrights Starry Nights- Aristotle copyrights thought- Harper Lee and Maya Angelou know why the caged mockingbird can’t sing- if their teachers own all the words. Does Shakespeare care if Hamlet is performed at the Globe – a renowned performing arts high school in New York- or the streets of El Salvador? Or is it about sharing in our words- living through his words- copy what was- homage to the author.
What if my thought- was first a song lyric written on the back of a napkin- tossed aside- blurred- by someone who was playing the drinking game. Was my thought already prefabricated- plain as day- in the light of moon- beyond the wonder of a five year old Nigerian girl. Or in the dreams of an addict to spun to remember what was said- when morning is four days later- and still hasn’t come. Maybe it was the taxi driver in Karachi who first said, “poets can be any color- they just want to be read…” way before it entered my head. He just didn’t have access to a pen- or- when he got home- had trouble remembering again.
Maybe this was all confiscated- stolen- copy unwritten- from a man who has ALS. Everyone baby talks- the man- like a toddler- and pats him on the head. Like sticking a finger in the soup to see if it is warm. Somewhere he is reading my words- his words- unspoken- on a screen- screaming so loud. But no one gives a fuck- because they think he doesn’t have words. These are my copyrighted- hijacked- borrowed from another source- all the source- is the same source- words- just a different kind of sauce.
Understanding- I only carry these words- all thoughts that have been conjured- inflicted- and finely tuned- have come from the fingers- tongues- brushstrokes- madness of others. Screamed in splinters- whispered in born against- washed into the sand’s stone- are all words- for consideration.
My search in writing- is for a comfort- for the words- and the people to be as free as possible. Knowing- nothing is free- especially as a Dad- to three- all girls.
What about the tree- when were they going to see a royalty- for all the copies they have written?
Like a tree roots in- I am rooted in my children. For them- and my family- I have to remain a true artist- a true contradiction- like any human- that varies on a multitude of spectrums. To a take stand- show my copy rights as author and carrier of words- would only be for them- so their walk is a little lighter.
Their Father’s hands which have borne the scars and marked calluses of time- that comes when the sun shines so bright in life- you have to squint- and trust that you’re walking- but- not off the edge- because you can still feel the sun radiating through your face- and trust can be easier- when you can’t see in the first place.
I will chase- these words all copied from the same source- just a different sauce- tasting- and holding on to what I can- understanding what was already written…
This is a post written by Anthony in his blog “Symbols between Spacebars” under the title “Do I have a right to copyright words- call them mine?“