Publishing Jimpify’s Second book : Through the Mist

Through the Mist

We at Jimpify Publishing, are very happy and proud to announce the publishing of our second book, ‘Through the Mist’.

1st of September 2017, we are publishing our first collaborative fiction and our second book, Through the Mist.

It has been a wonderful and exciting journey working with all the talented writers, right from the writing of the book till its publication.

About the Collaboration

‘Through the Mist’ is a collaborative book and an innovative venture to break a common belief and to validate an old saying.

It is a common belief that a story can be spun from only one pen. But ‘Through the Mist’ is a bouquet of stories from a bunch of authors.

The book validates that ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’ because a single photograph is the only common link to all the stories of this book.

Yes, a picture is worth a book!

‘Through the Mist’ is a collaborative fiction book that has brought together five writers from diverse backgrounds. The starting point of the stories is a picture, that has been interpreted by each of the writers differently so that the stories touch many genres and have varied characters.

What is the book About?

Inviting guest blogs!

I’m on the verge of quitting once again and of course the reasons are anew this time and I still couldn’t let go of my ripples..

If any one is interested in helping me get through another phase of mundane posts, or just feeling generous to write at Ripples, or anyone for any other reason willing to do so, feel free to drop a mail of the post you would like to publish here at aadhirai@live.co.uk

Already published posts are also welcome. Just send across the link of the same.

The beginning

புரிகின்ற தருணத்தில்
தொலைகின்ற காதலாய்
உணர்கின்ற பருவத்தில்
இழந்திடும் பாசமாய்
பார்க்கின்ற நொடியினில்
மறைகின்ற கானலாய்
தொடுகின்ற சமயத்தில்
நெடுகின்ற வானமாய்
பொழிகின்ற வேளையில்
கலைகின்ற மேகமாய்
என் தேடல்களின் முடிவுமே
இன்னொரு தொடக்கமாய்

The love lost
At the moment of understanding;
The parted affection
At the moment of realisation;
The missing mirage
At the moment of looking at it;
The extending horizon
At the moment of almost reaching it;
The dissolving clouds
At the moment of almost drizzle;
Signifies that my end is not an end
But the beginning of the next new adventure!

The Tamil version is written by Mr. Sudalai on his blog over here -> ​தொடக்கம் – http://wp.me/p7RIiY-s

The Post-mortem report!

On August 9, 2016 I requested for a post-mortem report. The report was worth sharing and requested a post of its own and here it is.

Thanks to Colin (www.meandray.com) for providing the very interesting report. And the report is so good and it needed to see the limelight and here it is for you to dissect further.

The Subject:

I had a thought just a moment ago..
The moment passed and so did the thought..
The thought might return,
Would the moment return too?

But the thought was it the same?
Coz previously it was original,
Now it is mere repetition..

As moments keep flowing,
Thoughts too keep flowing..

Few are ground breaking..
Few just break the head..

Few just stay forever..
Few just disappear like a vapour..

Few eludes the words..
Few eludes from remembrance..

Few are intimate..
Few are despicable..

Few are reverent..
Few are guilty..

Few are forgotten..
Few are immortalised..

Few are stacked away deep within and taken to grave..
While few are publicised and taken for post-mortem..

So what is your post-mortem report of this thought?!

The Report and the discussion!

First report (Colin)

A post-mortem is final
It signifies death
It recaps what has been
And what can never be again
A post-mortem determines
Cause and effect
It simply defines …..
the hows, but never the whys.

Your thoughts are not in this group
For thoughts can be again
They may die, but then they may live
As long as you are alive
Your thoughts are simply dormant
Asleep until that time
When circumstances dictate an awakening
And your thoughts can live again

Perhaps you shared your thoughts
Perhaps that person will nurture them
They may then live a different life
Have slightly different results
And in the event of your passing
Their life is still assured

A post-mortem on your thoughts
Is therefore quite illogical
For they may not have to die
But should they fade with the memories of you
Then we will all be grief stricken
Such beautiful thoughts
Such expressions of awareness
Gone forever
Why?

Second Report (Aadhira)

Is the thought the same
After it transforms into words
And take some shape?
Don’t they attain a finality?
They do die as thought
And be born again as poetry,
action, prose, letter, inspiration
and much much more..

But definitely the thought
as mere thought has died..

And though the deaths are painful,
“After all, to the well-organized mind,
death is but the next great adventure.” (JKR)
So as my thoughts embark on to the next,
Let us not hesitate to post-mortem..

Yes, the post-mortems are about
Cause and Effect..
Let us ponder over
What caused the ripple..
Let us linger over
How far the ripple reaches..

And after all,
“Heard melodies are sweet,
but those unheard are sweeter” (John Keats)
So let us not grieve over lost sweetness,
But just prepare ourselves for more sweetness..

Third Report (Colin)

But if a thought dies
And resurrects in words
Was it really ever dead?
And if a mere thought could die
And caused more thoughts after resurrection
Then its soul surely lives on
Albeit in a different form

The next great adventure pre-supposes death
Which has not (here) been determined
So yes, let us ponder on the ripple
Let us linger over its reach
Let us determine its existence
But unlike a thought
The ripple does die
It is absorbed by its own medium

John Keates was right
That unheard sounds are the sweetest
Unheard sounds
Unspoken thoughts
Unseen ripples
Do they have much much in common?

Unheard sounds are limited by ones imagination
Unspoken thoughts are limited to the creator
Unseen ripples are never realized to their full potential
But let us not forget
This is about post-mortems
A post-mortem on an unheard sound is ludicrous
A post-mortem on an unspoken thought lacks imagination
A post-mortem on an unseen ripple simply cannot be.

The whole post-mortem discussion
Is a very subjective topic as you can no doubt see
With conflicting conditions being established
Quite simply by you…
… and by me!

Fourth Report (Aadhira)

The soul does live on dear..
But are we conducting
the post-mortem for the soul?

Unlike thought,
a ripple doesn’t die!
For the chaos theory states that
a flap of butterfly could cause whirlpools..
So imagine what all might happen
from a single ripple!

Just like a thought,
a Ripple is more powerful..
Yet neither the initial thought,
nor the initial ripple could ever
fathom the depth of its impact
nor the length of extension
it attains in the next form..

Those unheard / unspoken / unseen
are the privilege of the initiator
and are a secret to be guarded..
And it would be ridiculous for
expecting post-mortem on them..

When I talk, I express myself,
When I listen, I learn a new perspective..
What if there are just two views?
Still it is better than one right..

Fifth Report (Colin)

My friend, such differences we have
I believe ripples do in fact die
Even though their effect may live on
As for chaos theory?
Theory is all that it is, nothing more

When you talk, you do express yourself
But who are you?
A flower with complex scents
Will we ever know you?

When you listen, you learn new perspectives
But what are they?
A birth of new dreams perhaps
Will you ever tell us?

And as for just two views?
There really must be more
More than talking and listening
More than yours and mine

Does a mute man only listen?
Does a deaf man only talk?
Is the world simply you and I?

Perhaps an autopsy is necessary
For we all need to see
The infinite variables of life
In this wonderful world…
… that includes…
you and me!

Sixth Report (Aadhira)

Without experiencing Summer,
Rain couldn’t be appreciated better..
Still the beauty of Sun and Rain live on
complimenting each other in their own way..
Hence the differences bring out
the uniqueness and nurture the other..

When I talk, I express myself
as what I like you to know me as..
I might be the luring death
with the fragrance of rose
Or the majestic lotus amidst
the stinking mud..
So will I ever let you know..
Maybe, Maybe not..

When I listen, I learn new perspective..
But do I listen what is actually said,
Or do I listen what I want to hear?
Did I really understand your intent?
Or am I just babbling with words
that are spilled and set for dissection?

Will I ever acknowledge even to myself,
This is where a new dream was born?
Or am I that deep in vain,
To daresay that is my dream of ages?

There are indeed so many views,
just as there are many forms of dance..
When the dance of words are in such rhythm,
with its own tune and rhyme,
composed by and for the two,
others enjoy, absorb and cherish..
But would they dare to interfere?
Not, in the fear of messing the beat..

Who knows the colorful dreams of a blind?
Who hears the vocals of the mute?
Let us have little more compaasion
and spare those intellectually challenged..

There is so much wonder in here..
In this little world of you and me..
with open gates for anyone to enter
with no restraints so to leave at will..

So why be distracted by the visitors to come?
Let us explore the wonder and stage the play..
For the play lives on and someday….
Someone might enjoy the play
And even take part in it..

So, for now, the next act goes on
Just with the two of us..

Seventh Report (Colin)

You are right of course
What is black… without the white?
What is a smile… without a frown?
What is a right… without a wrong?
Differences allow us to appreciate
To see the contrasts

Differences give us choices
What to display and what to hide
What to embrace and…
What to push away.

It really is a wonderful world
Although some simply will not see
The clouds, the rainbows, the ripples in the pond
The birds, the flowers, the trees

Mother Nature, unlike us, has nothing desired to hide
She is open, for us all to see and love
Such beauty to behold
But again, some simply will not see
So let us encourage open eyes
For while they be distracting
We should share what we believe

We should share our conscious thoughts
And our appreciation of life
Perhaps it will stay just the two of us
But who knows…. perhaps another poet will call
Then we shall have more thoughts
Then we shall hear more sounds
Then we shall see more words
And then… our perspectives may change yet again!

Eight Report (Aadhira)

Despite the differences,
Black and white are untied as colors,
Smile and frown as emotion,
Right and wrong by moral..

While difference might accentuate beauty,
Being of same flock let’s in the recognition..

Choices are beautiful
Choices are confusing
Choices are conflicting

Beauty is in the eyes of beholder
You could force a person to open the eyes,
But never could push to enjoy the beauty..

Like the birth from the egg,
Let it break from inside..

While we wait for the birth,
Let us strengthen the nest,
Add little more color and cheer
For the young one to cherish and nourish..

And let us keep the hope intact..
’cause, when there is addition to the world,
We might get a new view..
Or be assured of our old ones..

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We are still waiting for some new facts / thoughts so we could keep building this further.. Anyone?! 😉

She’s not you!

I am falling in love! With words and with collaborations! The first part was introduced to me as scribble and was advised to forget after reading.. But in line with breaking rules, these lines have travelled deeper and I couldn’t forget it that easily and inversely it has prompted me to add my scribble (which is the second part) to those lines.

An addon
to collaborate;
to cremate;
to celebrate;
to cherish!

Now you are presented the graffiti and you are welcome to add your two cents.. (We could use more than two cents.. So please be generous.. 😛 )

And before I could leave you to enjoy the poetry (and / or to prepare lengthy curses) I request your attention for few more seconds..

The inspiring-heart warming-touché-brilliant piece of poetry (of course, I am talking only about the first part) is penned down by the cool star, Mr. Karthik, the co-author of the blog “Powerful Overflow” Do contact him when in need of touch of liveliness to your life and you would get assured results! (You might watch out the comments section to know more about him.. 😉 But please do stalk him and share your views on his works! 🙂

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She might love me..
More than you ever did.
And shelter my tattered soul
And feed it hope.

But..
Her eyes won’t glint
With the slightest of mischief,
To make me want to live more,
To breathe more.

Her laughter won’t resonate with me,
Like yours did.

Her fleeting glance
Won’t make me feel
The way my heart yearns to.

She won’t be imperfect
In the beautiful way you are.

Because..
She’s not you.
She can never be.

And,
When I say
I love her,
She will look into my eyes
And feel the void in my words.

And, she will know..
That the whole of my heart
Can never be hers.

Because
Beyond the closed doors are
The scribbles and graffiti
You left behind.

The remnants of a past
That you will remember
not for long.

So, go on..
Live your life
To the fullest,
As you’ve always done.

Meanwhile,
Let me pull up a chair
And grab a book.

The life is yours,
The graffiti, mine.

~~~~~~

And with that last line,
I have finished my graffiti
In her heart..

And now she could
Neither open up the graffiti
Just like me,
Nor let life hold her
In the infinite swirl
Of locking up the graffiti,
Just like me..

Hence, she broke open
My closed doors
By sheer persistence
And the faith in her heart and art..

When she broke in,
She tidied the mess of break up,
And started her art,
Which wrapped around
The whole graffiti..

Now my heart is open
For what lingers inside is
The brilliance of art of two hearts!

Yes, She’s not you!
But, she is mine!

Saving the savior..

This was the post I posted exactly a year back..

Would I say the same now?

Right now, I’m not being helpful to anyone or even being a very good friend in the past month..

Yet, when I read what I wrote, I feel a surge of pride..

Though I would prefer to be a victim and let others help me to drag, reading back my own words, gives me the push I need to move my lazy self to stand back on my own feet..

And this reminds me of Harry Potter producing his first patronus, to save himself, just with the knowledge that he would be able to do so..

I ask the potterheads to excuse me, when I’m bragging that my blog is indeed a time-turner.. 😛

And it helps me save myself and let me be the victim and savior of myself.. 😉

Now do visit the original post and let me know of your views over comments or owl-post.. 😛

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Whom do you really help when you help someone?

Source: Saving the savior..

My Words – Are they really mine?

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.

And…

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.

Or…

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…

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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?“

As Close as it Comes!

Isn’t it enough that I let you see
Isn’t it enough that that I have let you see me bleed
As long as I allow you to share

Isn’t it enough for you to just care
I will not ask you to dwell inside my life’s shell
Nor ask you to share my personal hell

It is mine and mine alone
Perhaps the only thing I possess
The only thing that I own.

Isn’t it enough that I bare my soul
Isn’t it enough that you know I’m not whole
As long as I trust you enough to let you see me

Isn’t that enough for you to let me be me
I can not allow anyone else to live in my shell
Nor allow any to share my personal hell

It is mine and mine alone
Perhaps its the only thing I possess
That No one  can lay a claim on

Isn’t it enough that I see your needs
Isn’t it enough that I see your deeds
Isn’t it enough to show you I care

Without crawling in and sharing your lair
One we are
One we will be

It is the only thing we own
Let it be enough that I allow you inside to see
How I decorate my own home

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This is another re-blog post. I re-blog when I like the thought and the way it is presented. But this re-blog is purely for the following reason – The moment I read, I started wondering why didn’t I write out this thought.. But I wonder whether I could ever write it this good. Hence, instead of using it as inspiration, here is the same post..

I should be mentioning the author right.. The author is my longest follower and my initial followers are only through him. He keeps wondering why in his blog, and I keep wondering why am I blessed with such good people. Must be some good deed I have inadvertently done in the past.. 😉

I would be requiring more than a footnote to describe this oxymoronic-sharp-witted brother of mine, William. I would rather suggest that you follow him and ponder over his thought-provoking posts.. 🙂

(I have taken the liberty to format the post as I would like to see it Bro.. Sorry if it is not to your liking)

Autobiography of a Plagiarist

Disclaimer – This blog post is a work of fiction.

Some say truth triumphs! I had never experienced it until last winter! This change cleansed me and transformed me into a good individual. Some say that there is no difference between people who steal others things  and those who snatch others ideas. I had been doing that for my material gains.  Google turned out to be my best friend for it provided me everything that I desired. Being a blogger and an amateur writer, my mind constantly required to produce and reproduce several ideas. Most of the blogging sites that came up with  different blogging contests often came up with attractive and lucrative prizes  – iPad, iPhone, Kindle, Mac Books and various electronic gadgets. I seemed to have been blinded and smitten  by these prizes that I resort to snatching ideas.

5^th November 2013 – was the day when blogger.com came up with a PAN level blogger contest. The winner of that contest was to be awarded an iPhone. ‘Human Heart Vs Human Brain – Measuring conflicts. What does the heart say when the brain says no?’ It was a  topic that had to be dealt with utmost sensitivity. I usually suck at writing such articles.  The prizes attracted my eyeballs. Gluttony hurts, it  kills!

I started thinking over the topic and my brain couldn’t conceive constructive ideas relevant to the theme of the contest. I was disappointed at the fact that I was turning creativity handicap. It was indeed challenging. Any writer wouldn’t succumb to an act that I did! I typed – Heart Vs Brain on the Google Search bar and I received numerous web links. I went through the websites one by one and accumulated points.  I jotted down the points and tried to put it on my own words.  While exploring few of those websites, my eyes grabbed the attention of a blog written by an American Teenager – Brenda Anderson.

“Heart is symbolic of emotions, feelings; attachments. It has its own reasoning which the mind may not approve of, probably because it lacks the evidence or arguments that prove it to be right. But has an understanding that assures it of not being wrong.
At times, the high EQ (emotional quotient) may overshadow the strong IQ.
The reason for it is simple when faced with a situation; our heart pulls us to one direction and the mind to the other. We don’t know which way to go this gives rise to a conflict that interferes with our ability to think rationally. There is no direction, just a dead point. We feel lost and our mind stops working, stops thinking and then we become totally dependent on what our heart tells us, after all, it’s our last resort.”

This was something that I was looking for! Spot it! I copied the entire post on my document and started working on it. I meticulously made good use of the thesaurus and changed meanings of certain complex words. I made its vocabulary easy to understand. I optimized it for an Indian audience.  The deadline for the blogger contest was approaching. Brenda Anderson was indeed a blessed girl. I explored her blog and it was the repository of literature work. Her works dealt with the highest level of art and literature. I envied her for some reason. She would have won several blogger contests if she were in India. Perhaps, at that moment, I never felt guilty publishing someone else’s article under my name and that too under PAN India level. I was feeling jubilant when I posted the link to the blogger page. I was quite sure that I would win. I had no traces of guilt in my heart. Weeks passed and even months!  The contest results were about to be announced.  Many people had appreciated that article that I had lifted from Brenda Anderson’s blog and no one had even the slightest doubt that it was a stolen one. I had received over 100 comments for that single blog post. People enjoyed reading it and they had scribbled genuine comments for that. It did make me smile!

But that night, I couldn’t sleep peacefully. My conscience knocked me hard to make me feel that I had done the biggest mistake of my life. It indicated me that this was a big shame. How could a person fall down to this level? It wanted to correct my mistake. I contemplated and thought over my act! But it seemed that the results were already announced. I was declared as the winner. I was entitled to get an iPhone. I was feeling guilty and my greed for material products had to be reprimanded. I was feeling low and disappointed.  Finally, I listened to what my heart said to me and contacted the organizers. I spilled the beans! I informed them that I had lifted the article from an American girl’s blog and modified it as per my needs. But that was an honest confession. I had tears in my eyes when I spoke all that to the organizers. The organizers discussed and decided to go with the results as announced. They had awarded me the prize for my honesty. I could have simply opted to conceal the truth, but my conscience didn’t let me sleep peacefully. For years to come, my heart would have been heavy with the guilt that would often remind me of the scar that it had left! But I acknowledged my conscience by doing something that it desired.  But it would have been inappropriate if I had accepted the prize. The organizers didn’t budge and I had to accept the prize.

Image is taken from here

All the 100 plus comments that the blog post received belonged to that girl. It was the efforts of that American girl who deserved so many appreciations. I had just been a channel. I quickly added the link of her post to my blog post and added a line that my post had been inspired from Brenda’s blog post.

I quickly inspected her blog for her contact details. “You may want to let me know how you feel about my blog posts 🙂 How?  Write me at brenda.anderson7@live.com” It was mentioned at the right sidebar of the blog.

“Dear Brenda,

You might be wondering who this is. I would like to call myself as the greatest fan of Miss Brenda Anderson. Yes, I am a huge fan of your writing. I bumped across your blog through Google and I’m glad that I found it. Your articles have touched me deep! I would like to say something important. Last month I took part in a PAN India level contest and I had won it.  Please don’t get me wrong when I say that I had stolen ideas and points from your blog. I had lifted it. I’m feeling ashamed because of my act. Check this link – virtualstroller.blogspot.com/heartvsmind. All the comments on this blog post are meant for you.  Kindly forgive me. Please provide me your address.

Yours Truly,
Sankit”

I waited for her reply. Finally, two days later she replied me.

“Dear Sankit,

I’m so happy that you won the blogging contest. I’m indeed very happy for you. Thank you for all the kind words in the last email. That was sweet of you :). You don’t need to be sorry. You had taken my blog post and I’m glad you won it. It was nice going through the various comments in the blog post in the link that you had sent me. You are a nice soul, Sankit! Please do not say that you had stolen my blog post. : )  I have blog rolled you and consider me as a regular reader of your blog. You too do the same and yes whenever you read my post do leave some nice comments 😛 And my address is –

2411, Andersons Avenue, AV, Green Park, GA, Atlanta 30301, USA

Stay in touch, Sankit! Xoxox

Take Care,
Brenda ”

I was so happy to read all that. I quickly parceled the iPhone to her. I was not the right owner to that Apple product.  Initially, she refused to accept it. But after insisting she accepted it. We soon turned out to be good friends.  Yes, Truth indeed Triumphs! Sometimes you just need to be true to yourself. Sometimes you just need to listen to your heart. It’s an offense to steal others creativity!

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Friends, many times we knock Google’s door for ideas when our brain refuses to produce adequate necessary desired ideas. I feel disheartened to see and hear such things. My heart hurts when I read my blogger friends writing statuses on Facebook citing their plagiarized blog posts. Trust me that it is something that hurts any blogger. Who would like their blog post to be snatched? Remember that a plagiarist is no different than a thief. The difference is that a plagiarist steals others ideas while a thief steals products.  A plagiarist could steal someone’s blog post, but they can never steal someone’s creativity! Dear Plagiarists – Please do not hurt creative souls here. Your conscience will hurt you and you would live a life of guilt! If you go on to get inspired by someone’s work then do let the article owner know about this and you could link their blog post to yours. That would be a kind gesture. While using an image from Google, do give credits to the  image owner. This blog post might be a work of fiction, but this might be true for many of you out here! Stay blessed my creative people!

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There are two ways to present a thought of others. You could get inspired and just spin the thought in your own unique wrap and present it to others. Or just share the post as is, just like I am doing here! This is a post written by my friend Stephen in his blog The Solitary Writer. He has been blogging for the past decade on various topics. His range of writings include fiction, political satire, Cricket Commentary, Social Issues, Reviews and many more. Do check out his blog for a perfect potpourri and you would surely find something to your taste, irrespective of your taste.

Seasons.

“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.
Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.
Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.
Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.

Foamy Flakes,

Frost over Blue lakes.

Mittens and Flannels,

Icicles on window panels.

Thermos teemed with hot chocolate,

As winter glossed the nature’s slate.

 

Blush Blooms,

Dew over grass looms.

Kites and merry lights,

Bright moon nights.

Jars jammed with cherry marmalade,

As spring glossed the nature’s slate.

 

Scorching Sun,

Dandelions over green lawn.

Glow worms and fire flies,

Sun- kissed skies.

Bottles of sweet lemonades,

As summer glossed the nature’s slate.

 

Tanned Turf,

Leaf-strewn over soil base.

Red landscapes and cobwebs,

Gloom going with the ebbs.

Fluffs of cotton candy mates,

As autumn glossed the nature’s slate.

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The contrast of seasons stringed into harmony by a cute Glass-wearing-Cheshire-cat-grinning-little-nerdy doll named as Adhithya and called as Adhi with a ‘h’.. 😀

She writes so beautifully and she is indeed a very nice person to have a cool chit chat and would be a great friend.. Just make sure she reaches back earth after she reaches her cloud nine, so we all can have the warmth Adhithya’s (The name means Sun) sunshine..

Now go follow Adhi, drop few comments and enjoy this sunshine’s cute rays.. 🙂

Mini Habits to practice in 2016!

These are my favourites:

1. Have a firm handshake.

2. Look people in the eye.

3. Sing in the shower.

4. Own a great stereo system.

5. If in a fight, hit first and hit hard.

6. Hold secrets.

7. Never give up on anybody. Miracles happen everyday.

8. Always accept an outstretched hand.

9. Be brave. Even if you’re not, pretend to be. No one can tell the difference.

10. Whistle.

11. Avoid sarcastic remarks.

12. Choose your life’s mate carefully. From this one decision will come 90 per cent of all your happiness or misery.

13. Make it a habit to do nice things for people who will never find out.

14. Lend only those books you never care to see again.

15. Never deprive someone of hope; it might be all that they have.

16. When playing games with children, let them win.

17. Give people a second chance, but not a third.

18. Be romantic.

19. Become the most positive and enthusiastic person you know.

20. Loosen up. Relax. Except for rare life-and-death matters, nothing is as important as it first seems.

21. Don’t allow the phone to interrupt important moments. It’s there for our convenience, not the caller’s.

22. Be a good loser.

23. Be a good winner.

24. Think twice before burdening a friend with a secret.

25. When someone hugs you, let them be the first to let go.

26. Be modest. A lot was accomplished before you were born.

27. Keep it simple.

28. Beware of the person who has nothing to lose.

29. Don’t burn bridges. You’ll be surprised how many times you have to cross the same river.

30. Live your life so that your epitaph could read,No Regrets

31. Be bold and courageous. When you look back on life, you’ll regret the things you didn’t do more than the ones you did.

32. Never waste an opportunity to tell someone you love them.

33. Remember no one makes it alone. Have a grateful heart and be quick to acknowledge those who helped you.

34. Take charge of your attitude. Don’t let someone else choose it for you.

35. Visit friends and relatives when they are in hospital; you need only stay a few minutes.

36. Begin each day with some of your favourite music.

37. Once in a while, take the scenic route.

38. Send a lot of Valentine cards. Sign them, ‘Someone who thinks you’re terrific.’

39. Answer the phone with enthusiasm and energy in your voice.

40. Keep a note pad and pencil on your bed-side table. Million-dollar ideas sometimes strike at 3 A.M.

41. Show respect for everyone who works for a living, regardless of how trivial their job.

42. Send your loved ones flowers. Think of a reason later.

43. Make someone’s day by paying the toll for the person in the car behind you.

44. Become someone’s hero.

45. Marry only for love.

46. Count your blessings.

47. Compliment the meal when you’re a guest in someone’s home.

48. Wave at the children on a school bus.

49. Remember that 80 per cent of the success in any job is based on your ability to deal with people.

50. Don’t expect life to be fair.

(Compiled from various sources across the Internet)

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Since you all are still here, I take that you loved the list as much as I did.. This is the post, as posted by Mr Sumit at his blog!

And I personally differ with Pt. 35 Visiting people at the hospital, as it might be turning out, even more tiring to the dear ones. So, if you ever come to know, I am in a hospital, just drop by a word through text or any social networks and I will get back to you once I am allowed access to my mobile with internet.. 😀 Please save the trouble for my dear attendant.. 😛 Coz I would already be causing more than they could handle.. 😉

Anyways, the rest of the list is just awesome. So, do try to follow all of these or just at least 45 of them.. 😉 Yeah, anything less is a crime you know.. 😛 (Married people are excused from points related to it.. And even to the rest of it if and only if you are listening so dutifully to your spouse.. 😛 )

By the way, I have taken the liberty to copy paste the whole post, as I am personally little hesitant to click on the read more of a guest post.. So I have also taken the liberty to close the comments for this post.. Do visit his blog to leave a word for this wonderful compilation, check out other posts and eventually follow.. 🙂

And in the rare scenario of, you still feeling the urge to talk to me, visit over my contact page (Wanna picture in with me) or through social networks..

Now hop in here and leave a comment!!