Monday 5 October 2015

No kind action ever stops with itself ,one kind action leads to another .Good example is followed .A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions and the roots spring up  and make new trees . The greatest  good that kindness does to others is  that it makes them kind themselves .
                                                                                                                    Amelia Earheart

                                                                                            

Thursday 1 October 2015

                                      Ode To a Phoenix 
                        
                              Nestled  in the heart of a blossoming tree 
                                    She had just begun to weave
                                         dreams of a sunny tomorrow.
                             But Fate conspired with Death 
                                  and hatched the cruellest plot 
                                       to nip her joy in the bud.
                           A bolt from the  blue 
                                  fell on the tree of a sudden,
                                     hitting her nest unawares,
                                         bringing it down to the earth.
                           Too shocked  by the heavy blow  
                               to sense her own wounded self  
                                  she lay petrified, stunned,
in the midst of her broken dreams.  
                 

                      
          But  before the deadening loss 
           could kill her  lively spirits 
              she wrang her eyes dry,
                   and rose up from the wreckage
                       to fight  again and brave 
                          all odds that came her way.
        With slow but sure strife  
          she flew through mist and snow
           carving her route to resurrection.
   And  lo ! she made it  at last
       reaching the land of bright sunshine 
           she made her nest on the olive again.
                                                                           Yes, she is there  at last 
                                                                                      A hope reborn, a dream realized 
                                                                                                life revived from dust and ashes!
         Weighing her new grown wings 
              she is ready to map the skies 
                   even beyond the horizon 
                         for  what can be a limit  
                            to a spirit indomitable!
                                                                     And  as she spreads  her wings
                                                                             to take up new flights 
                                                                                leaving the dust of  fear behind

                                        I rub my eyes in wonder  
                                           and ask myself --
                                                                   Does Phoenix belong to legends alone?           

    








.
    
















Wednesday 30 September 2015

ODE TO A PHOENIX









                                           Ode  To A Phoenix
         

                                                Nestled  cosily on the branch,
                                                Of a blossoming tree,
                                                she had just begun to weave,
                                                Dreams of a  joyous tomorrow.
                         
                                               But Fate and death conspired,
                                               And hatched a cruel plot,
                                              To nip her hopes in the bud,
                                               Before she could wake up.

                                               There fell a bolt from the blue,
                                              Hitting her nest unawares,,
                                              Bringing it down to the earth,
                                              Shattered and burnt to the core.
.
                                               Too deeply hurt by the  blow,
                                               To  feel her  wounded self,
                                               She lay petrified, stunned,
                                            Among wrecks of her rosy dreams.

                                            But before  the deadening  woe,
                                           Could  kill her lively spirit,
                                           She  resolved to wipe her eyes, 
                                           And rise up to face what was due.
   
                                             With slow but sure strife,
                                             She flew through mist and snow,
                                             Carving her route to resurrection,
                                             Leaving behind the dead wreckage.

                                             And lo! She has made it at last!
                                             Reaching the land of bright sunshine,
                                             She is perched on the high olive branch,,
                                                Revived in spirit and zest again. 
                         
                                           Rising from the dust and ashes, 
                                            She  is ready to soar high up  and higher,
                                           While I  rub my eyes in wonder  -
                                          Does Phoenix belong to legends only?


Note---
Dedicated to a  young lady who joined Indian Army when her husband laid down his life guarding the national border in Siachen glacier. .She decided to follow his noble career and underwent the tough military training to resume the service of the nation just where he had left it ....
                       
                     This Braveheart is my Phoenix and this poem, my salute to her indomitable spirit!
            





         









          .






                        














                                     

Monday 21 September 2015

GRATITUDE

                                     On World Gratitude Day
Gratitude,
    The noblest of  emotions
         That springs forth from the depth of heart.
        At  times expressed  through palpable signs,
             But often, too shy for words or gestures,  
                  Dwells contained inside!
                   Both ways creates a state of bliss
                       Invisible as music but soothing as a song.
     Gratitude, the fondest of gifts one can give or receive.
            Like 'mercy' it is  a  two-fold blessing,
                ''It blesseth him that gives and him that takes''.1
           
1. Shakespeare    





Friday 18 September 2015

A poem from Gitanjali

When the heart is hard and parched up 
   Come upon me with a shower of mercy ,
         When grace is lost from life 
               Come with a burst of song  .
                    When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides
                         Shutting me out from beyond ,
                              Come to me ,my lord of silence,
                                   With thy peace and rest  .
                When my beggarly heart sits crouched ,shut up in a corner ,break open the door ,my king ,and come with the ceremony of a king .

When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust ,O thou holy one ,thou wakeful ,come with thy light and thy thunder .
Gitanjali ,39 

(This beautiful poem by Tagore has been very close to my heart ever since l found it .A constant companion ,it has  helped me maintain my faith in the all embracing benevolence of the supreme power that manifests itself in varied forms ,ranging from soft showers to  threatening thunderbolts , appearing  in accordance with   the need and situation .)
                 

A POEM FROM GITANJALI

When the heart is hard and parched up ;
    come upon me with a shower of mercy .
When grace is lost from life ;
   Come with a burst of song .
When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond;
Come to me  my lord of silence 
With thy peace and  rest .
When my beggarly heart sits crouched ;shut up in a corner  ;break open the door ; my king ; and come with the ceremony of a king  .
When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust ;O thou holy one ;thou wakeful ;come with thy light and thy thunder  
.  Geetanjali  39

                ( This beautiful poem has always been very close to my heart  ;ever since I found it for the first time ; a constant  companion  all through ; it has   helped  me maintain  my faith in the all embracing   benevolence  of the supreme  power  that manifests itself    in many forms   ranging from soft , soothing          showers  to the  lightening and thunder  as per the need of the  situation .)

Thursday 17 September 2015

When the heart is hard and parched up ,
Come upon me with a shower of mercy   
           
         When grace is lost from life  
              Come with a burst of song   
                     
                     When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides  shutting me out from beyond ,
     Come to me my lord of silence 
                      With thy peace and rest  .

When my beggarly heart sits crouched ,shut up in a corner ,
      Break open the door ,my king ,and come with the ceremony of a king .

            When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust , O thou holy one , thou wakeful ,come with thy light and thy thunder  .