Storms

Glittering sun.
Stormy weather.
Settling calm.
An illusory life, perhaps!
Broken heart into pieces.
Unrequited love.
Grey hair.
We never won the game,
sitting at the shore.
Night fall beckons souls,
to slug it out.
Fight the inner demons,
lose yourself a bit.
Torn into shred and pieces,
life may not be the same again.
Upheavals!
Curse it today.
Tomorrow, it will define it.
Dark tunnel is an illusion.
It exist at the back of our minds.
Cherish the black spot, disappointment and woes.
Life was never stand still water.

Dancing in the rains

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The storms seams through the village past midnight in the seeping winter.
As the villagers storm from their sleep, the reek in panic and chaos runs in this small village, till now unfazed by the remote sound of an engine.
They implore God to save their village, children and possessions.
Alas! God did not consider it important to pay heed to their prayers.
He can be very ruthless, the symbol called God.
Realizing that nothing can be done to save their village, they are resigned to their fate, cursing God and their existing on earth.
They live in tinted glasses, with their daily activities-ploughing the field, cooking food and having a bidi. 
The village folks wear blind glasses, they held on to caste and race barriers for ages.
Suddenly, one family head realizes that his six year old daughter is missing from the hut.
They frantically call her and she gives no sign of being present in the house.
The storm must have carried her away while she was playing near the lake.
Pin drop silence in the village. Everyone knew that the angry god of storms have carried the pretty, lovely daughter of Atmaram and Shanto.
She was a darling in the village, loved by everyone for her zest for life.
Everyone decide to mourn the death of Luxmi in the midst of storm when they suddenly hear the voice, father, father, monsoon has come,come out fast monsoon has come.
It was Luxmi.
When asked where she has been in the storm, she said, I was standing by the lake when the first gush of monsoon came in our village.
The small girl could hold herself and danced in the rains.
She was so happy of being blessed by God, knowing that this season will be a ripe one for farmers in the village, there will be no dearth of water to drink.
She let herself loose, danced frantically. It was her way of saying thank you to God, oblivious of the storm.

-Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass, it's about learning how to dance in the rains.

Good Morning folks,
let's njoy every second of life before it slip away. 

The sea and the tide of life

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Standing on the sea rocks, the water violently dashes against the sea bank,as it splutters on my face.
I bend down and pour the salt water in my hand and let it flow in the sea.
Our life is like sea and high tide comes to elevates us all.
At some point, the water remain still, so does our lives.
Life itself is like the huge sea and it embraces us all.
As humans, we have the inherent ability to withstand the storms and we go get carried by the huge Tsunami.
It's god warning to us.
No matter how big we become,let's stay and play modest.
We can never know how the sea storm may take us away.
What shall remains are ruins.
Our emotions felt are like the seas.
Sometimes we vent it out and sometimes we repress it for fear of being judged.
We cry as if telling the sea to take our tears.
But, we want to tell the sea to take us in some faraway place where our energy flows-love,sea,tears,anger,sadness will be freely expressed.
A wish that our life shall bear the stillness of the seas.
No tornado,floods shall wreck our existence.
Yet,life is a mirror image of our life and we are pushed to the extreme.
Either we learn to swim on the spur of the moment and reach the banks.
We emerge the strongest.
Or, we choose to get carried away by the storm as our dead body floats on the water surface.
The sea water and our life are intertwined together, soul is the sea and the sea becomes the body.