Happiness for the smallest of things is greatest. I have been nominated and I am happy and that’s how amazing it gets.
Read more "Blogger Recognition Award"
Great minds are valuable to a nation, they are its foundations, its guiders, its builders. They are the light in the dark, the flowers among the weeds. They are hope.
Read more "Virtuous Minds"
“Your story is as true as it is soulful…life is all you talked about…and life molds a man into nothing or something, but it is the man who chooses to accept what he is molded into. You were molded into something, something evil, indeed…
Read more "The Pedestrian"
As the blinding rays of the sun pierced my eyes, I caught sight of a half broken branch hanging from a lone leafless tree, a few last stubborn threads holding it as it swayed in the soft wintry breeze.
Read more "The Broken Branch"
The branch, it seemed, had given up, had let go but the tree hadn’t; like a mother to a child it clung to the branch, defying the rules of nature, unable to accept the fate of her child, that it was destined for disgrace and not for the glory of the skies.
The broken branch, that little damaged child, felt encaged by life itself…
Your perfection is not perfection but something else! In darkness not often a candle is perceived yet it glows. If you see chains where I see freedom, then what can I say to you?
Corruption spreads, O foolish Man! What once was single, is now manifold and beside its shadow even your flowers turn dark yet darkness does not know itself to be dark nor light knows itself to be bright.
Read more "The Angel & The Man"
The train stopped and seventy years old Adam stepped out into the clear bright summer day. Shouldering his bag he looked around and saw that the small village had changed a lot in the last fifty years…
Read more "A Walk Down The Memory Lane…"
Childhood, what a wonderful it is! So free we are, so full of hilarity. Unburdened and ignorant, such a blissful time. Childhood, indeed, is a story that remains…
Read more "Childhood"
Where does time takes us all? Where time shall receive respite? Death. And death is exactly what it loves, what it pines for and that is where it takes us all.
Read more "Time Fell In Love"
Life is making, the making of unmaking,
Read more "The Poet & The Moth"
What is then made into pieces breaking,
And from those pieces again reshaping…