Happy is Happening;)

 

happy

When I asked my little kiddo…why was he happy, he replied that he was happy coz I was running the vacuum cleaner. Precisely children don’t need a reason to be happy and smiling! They don’t bargain hard to find valid reasons for being happy. Definitely staying happy is a decision that you make for yourself but sticking to it only comes after practice. Shining your pearls faithfully every now and then is a life skill you learn like a curry simmering slowly but steadily. When you rise above the din and adjust yourself in the learning mode, absorb like a sponge and reflect like a sun, then you will start feeling the weightlessness of life. You might not be spikey as a hedgehog or smart as a whip but you will be happy! Problems will avoid you like a moneylender and you will be content and relieved. The sanctity of you face will glow like firefly in night and experiences will spearhead decision making. Happiness promotes prudence and prudence gradually invites optimization! So if I’m happy and strong in oblivion then definitely ignorance is bliss!

spring in the step

Ill be so happy to know that you are coming….

I will pair my scarlet velvet scarf with deep golden danglers

Put on my lady rose perfume spraying in my black hair too

Heart will recite the spring tunes, colorful like the crimson sky

Decorate the crystal vases with yellow and white daffodils

Heat up the wok for a chicken sausage broth with yellow mustard sauce

I will be on cloud nine smelling of jasmine and roses freshly cut

My kohl eyes will sparkle in the dark like fireflies

And heart flounder like a goldfish in water pond

The gold hoop nose ring is ready to shine again.

My curtains will smell flowery with fresh laundry smell

And bronze metal piece will shine too after a decade of darkness

I will sing and dance like a fawn tinkling my silver anklets

My red golden beads necklace in alternate pattern will match the polka dress

I will pick my pea pods and cook up the slurry green veggie soup

While danglers in the ears refuse to stop wangling

This will go on..till you come!!

 

 

Believe in your belief!

Life isn’t a predictable symphony always and many a times situations can make you languish and miserable. Don’t be surprised if sometimes you are questioning your own integrity and existence. We all live in a world of possibilities and it’s easy to become a victim of own circumstances. We can slip down and our fears can take the better of us but it is important to have faith. In good times, in your potential and in yourself. Be dedicated to your goodness and the belief in yourself of being righteous, pure and good.

Times can fluctuate like voltages high and low but we should be like rubber bands with high elasticity which can bounce back to its originality once the stress and strain collapses.

In this whimsical world where the timid stands a meek chance of adulation, there might not always be a shoulder to rely on or a hand to hold in the cold. Your belief will sail you through the rough patchy weathers. The gratitude towards life and the honesty towards yourself will draw you back in the game. Where there is goodness, there is magic which works in your favor. It’s easy to get distracted like a lost leaf when you are not acknowledged or alone in a crowd of happy faces.

Believe-in-yourself

Don’t get intimidated by others and their success. Even Obama must be having millions of problems and he is too searching continuously. There is a limited space at top and you can’t rest on the past laurels anytime. Your Facebook friends’ update tells you their happily ticking moments but it doesn’t discloses what actually happened before and after that. Follow and learn great people but don’t sulk.Precisely, be happy content and shine like a star because if you believe, you are.

So next time, if you feel alone in distress, brace yourself with the inner powerful you, thank life and your experiences for making you richer and get going.

And believe me…..you are special too!

Gotta tell you Something ;)

I’m no great personality or well known around, my words wouldn’t matter much but I would really like to say that to you….no not you readers…I am talking about WordPress!

Take it from me….you are doing a great job. Giving us a platform to voice our thoughts and let it be heard among all. Otherwise who would care for us…naïve, unassuming, crackpot writers who can write about anything from astrology to astronomy!

My apologies but still I would like to be called a writer…at least for the time being. Only a writer can understand the liberty of thought that it needs and the relief of a lifetime when it is released through his writings inked on paper. It’s a moment of glory to publish your note that once was a baby in your mind.You WordPress are making me a superstar in my own right and if not me at least my posts are a winner all the way.

It’s my launch pad to freedom and expression. WordPress..you can take a bow;)

 

What’s in your plate?

Some wise soul has remarked that food is the spice of life. Someone else has quoted that variety is the spice of life. I believe in both but more than that I believe in spices. Enchanting spices, colorful aromatic herbs and seasonings that make the food what it is!

Colorful hues that taste good too!
Colorful hues that taste good too!

Forget food..life would be so insipid without them. Sizzling chillies,pepper balls, zesty cinnamons, shining star anise, zingy aromatic saffron, the healing turmeric , cloves cumin’s and caroms, the juicy ginger sticks, the invincible cardamoms all are just a few to mention. Spices rave up our plate and taste buds both. Fresh fragrant spices either coarsely ground or wholesome are the nature’s offering as tempering in a plain boiling broth of life. Your food bowl wouldn’t look so tempting and colorful either without them because we all eat with our eyes first!

Jive and dig in.What a offering it is to relish these spices with our fav foods and make our platter a treat. Apart from tingling our taste buds, these also have therapeutic properties that can cure a range of ailments and allergies. Now that’s called a formidable combination. So go on and pamper your royal senses with these treasuries spices …. After all what is life without a little zing and zest!

Good Morning!

 

The slithery moonlight shined like snowflakes on oak trees while owls and bats perched upside down getting an overview. The trees dangled in their overgrown shadows and their wide cushioned leaves some green and fewer pale yellow shivered as a quiet breeze blew occasionally. The moonlit charismatic night wandered in its loneliness in the dense woods as if asking for a nap. Trees, shrubs, birds and bugs all murmuring in the dark dainty hours of the night.

But as the hours crawled by and the fireflies and bats began to fade away after a hard night at work, the light began to replace the hush darkness.

The buds leaned towards the light and opened up to soak the freshness. Dew drops dozed and dripped along the curvy leaves as if wetting the shy flowers. The bugs and crawlers skidded to hide in the ground before the bright light captured them. Birds chirped and squeaked and fluttered and tweeted till they all did it together and the symphony became a cacophony of mixed voices.

The red yellow orange melody in the sky looked like a painter’s palette where rays of light intertwined and started reflecting …spread out like ether everywhere. The rays peeking in through branches of eucalyptus high and low winded like a geometrical hexagon. The golden layer is overcasting everything else.

Sun has risen in the sky. Good morning!

A for Attitude

Life is unfair. It can bring out the worst or the best in you. There might be moments which will tear you apart and you will be left searching for that belief that once underlined your existence. and mind you…life’s greatest lessons are the ones which were not taught in the classroom. Sometimes your circumstances but eventually your attitude towards them will guide you further. It’s easy to break down like a dried leaf away from the roots which will sway along the winds and loose life. We all are attracted towards the bad…the taboo things at some stages in this homosapien life and getting over these is our real battle. But then winners are a different breed. They rise like a phoenix from the earth to refill life and burst with exuberance and success. Winners don’t quit and quitters don’t win!

Attitude is an intangible thing but it can make or break lives. Positive attitude can give you wings to fly and conquer the unknown. It’s a pair of glasses that once worn will never let that myopia set in…when you beam with it like a reiki..even your surroundings feel the ripple effects. If reading that exhaustive self-motivational Stephen covey publication doesn’t give you that kick…just search it inside you and your magnetic field and if you are thinking or starting to think positively..chances are you might catch the frequency soon…. And then fine tuning is right across the corner.

 

Childhood inspires!

Childhood inspires!

Paper boats and splashing in puddles, licking the spoon while mummy makes chocolate muffins, eating the cream out of the cookies before they are served, wished bubbles grew on trees, gardening with granddad and spending summer holidays in tree houses and mango grooves. Childhood was all about carelessness and hearty laughter’s, shares and shiny smiles, droopy sleeps and sleepovers to bundled dreams, missing tooth and bruised knees. Holidays meant being out, galloping with friends and discussing insignificant things over a treat of colored ice lollies.

Winning or losing hardly mattered but playing along did. When shadows in the twilight made us laugh. We would roar and jump, fall and cry still, fight but makeover ice cream and balloon deals and laugh till our stomachs ached and saliva overflowed. Mummies would be cooking or working all time and daddies would be driving and toys would be the only ones to understand our tears. Our eyes would gleam and shine at surprises and jumping in bumpy beds is all we would want. When being messy didn’t nauseate us and we could fart and still not be embarrassed about it. Even being ill could not stop us from playing and wandering like nomads and we could sleep, bath as many times in a day and still smell sweaty and sandy. We would dig mingy trenches and make up ghost stories in the backyard, pet a snail or wriggly worm and name him too. Pretend like being mom and dad and love dressing up similarly. And among all this hullaballoos I forgot to add that Studies didn’t mean studies ever!

I can go on describing mesmerized with that emotion called childhood but I guess you got my idea well. Don’t let that child in you die ever.. it’s the best religion to follow!

The cult landscape

The picturesque cult landscape

This is a place somewhere..im sure not far from here where their is a small cottage house amidst the green carpeted grass spread high and low carefully and sometimes carelessly maneuvering behind the slopes.

A house of woods and bricks restored with moments and love carefully plated in the front view. Overlooking the patio is a garden of white lilies shinning like lights in the night and honey dew daisies big and small smiling in the morning. The landscape view glazed with nature and mist. A big dainty forest garden behind the cottage where wild herbs and shrubs dance and doze in the warm sun and the fireflies attend the nigh chorus in symphony.

Anybody could guess that the double storied detached house with thatched roof had enjoyed a pleasant life in the past. It must have grabbed attention of the connossuiers while browsing along the country side. It had a prominently featured chimney basking in the light opening towards the north sky. Still a grey charcoal layer covered its surface discoloring the red bricks.

In the backyard, there is a wooden log melting in the sun since years and soaking the rain too. It has small mushrooms at its edges while snails and ladybugs sneak sometimes playing peek-a-boo with the daylight.

A sailboat is bobbing up and down in a water lake nearby but it’s been tied so it can’t sail away. The lake is jammed with water lilies, green algae and hyacinth and toads croak at night in amplified sounds. The crickets in the grass jingle along.

Sometimes a small cute English girl with golden fluffy hair suited in her flowery pants and shiny ribbons comes to play with the fluttery butterflies in the porch. It has small wild yellow button flowers spread in a thin layer across the path reaching up to the stairs and the main door.

When the moon and night sky dawns upon the place, the silvery light paints everything, the typical wild aromas fill up the air and the light shiver of the night linger on till the very next morning. Rosemary and mint aromas whirling, the water gushing and bugs wriggling always plays in the background.

 

Manchester in a warmer world-A short story

Manchester in a warmer world

Life was not easy after the disaster struck. There had been atomic bombings on the city and it had terrorized the life to the core. People craved, famished, torn and bled for food, water and shelter. The task forces had rescued the lives but the aftereffects were blossoming. The north west of England was the worst hit and the city which once was, the metropolitan buzzing city of Manchester was now a warehouse of skulls bleeding with pain. It was a terrorist activity and the spy agents had malicious interests still fluttering. The city which boasted of the ancient architecture, high skyline, large busy airports, oldest railway networks and throbbing economy now had lives succumbing to the pressures of fear and death. Not only life, property and money were harmed but the confidence to live was killed and an eerier feeling was discharged in the air. There was Loneliness, aimless ambiguousness wandering for life, children crying long and lost, fumes and debris and police and ambulance sirens crying above the din.

People had never witnessed anything so threatening and Manchester coped hard to survive the pain and tragesy.It was full of loss, jeopardy, tears and agony for all who had suffered irreparable damages and hope and prayers for all who had survived. All scattered and rotting under the bright sunny summer of Manchester. The mancs are rather romantic at heart with music and performing arts brimming to the core of their lives, but now had a life thrown out of gear.

Mary lost her family in the bombings. She was a manc always eluded by the mysticism of music and royal orchestra groups. Her father was a textile merchant always on the run. The textile revolution in the place had accentuated the business. After graduating from the university, Mary strived hard to enter the hale choir with the orchestra and finally found a place in it. She had a haughty hunger for good music and harmony ran through her blood throbbing in her veins. It was in the spring of the season that autumn struck and left her lifeless. In a minute everything sublimed to death and left a wagging tail of sufferings and sad stories.

Another survivor was James who worked as a staff in the Manchester United team-the once richest football team in the world. He was a supervisor for the under 21’s team and a native from the land. He was a fitness coach and an enthusiast throughout the season.

James too lost all hope, harmony and family in the ill minded season and now loneliness and pain hounded him. It’s strange what danger and disaster can do to us. They can bring our ugliest fears to the front and and ruin us like a living skeleton. The bombings turned into a mushroomed cloud of gases and toxins flooded lungs with poison. There was smog in the air and breath was like a stuffed cotton ball in your diaphragms. Shouts, pangs of pain, helplessness grounded itself all around and a melancholy mood was spread like ether everywhere.

James and Mary met in a rescue camp and the common pain of loss binded them. Though the harm was tenacious and refused to die down, but the city strived hard to recuperate. Maybe the common sentiments, verve didn’t let it go and the city tried to catch the lost breath with a throbbing red heart. These sentiments made Manchester what it is.

Love is god, truth, universal and healing. Time passed by and, James and Mary met and interacted and it was more than loss that they wanted to share. Love, music, recreation have detoxification effects on life and intoxicate you for an even larger craving. Although James was already married and divorced and Mary tried to avoid the intimacy but the juvenile strength caught in and in a music concert, which they visited together, after many days, at the Bridgewater hall, the two confessed the tender feelings for each other. The concert hall was spared the damage and the Mancs used the art as a therapy.

James was a master at his work and had a fine taste for the sport. Following the crisis, cost cutting and layoffs in the orchestra, the duo decided to get engaged and manage the dynamics well. Love plastered the pain and provided a reason to live. Manchester faced seasonal backlogs, job crisis, financial instability, low business interest and lowered economy as the end results but also the never say die spirit rose as a silver lining. All happened well and love further blossomed in the spring summer of Manchester.

Love and marriage was not expected soon for obvious reasons but once love gets predominant, everything else fades in the background.

This disaster made Manchester the real hotspot. Love healed, hope recalled, health revisited and harmony re-engaged all. Calling it just an emotion would be an understatement.

Manchester even in the warmer world made itself stand apart. The city buzzed again in the center square with Halle choir, the Manchester united football team, the rising gay populace, the oldest railway platforms, the happy summer hotspots, exciting nightlife, fresh sparkling park, gardens and open spaces, the red brick contemporary architecture, biggest football museums where the game is the muse, world’s richest football team,skyscapers to light weight trams, thriving music arenas to performing opera houses, from enlightening love stories of Mary-James to long lost sublime tragedies, the frosty winters to soft snowfalls to shining warm summers ,all recall a story called –Manchester rising to the zenith.