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Words enslave emotions.

Words got meanings..It does carry feelings

Did you choose  those words ?

Or they just came to you from nowhere you know

Like first snow..

Words are deeps waves drowning you in a sea

Or does it help you , to break  free ?

You use words ?or abuse 😉

Think before you choose

You may end with nothing to write or speak

Like a slave with bondage and words with no weight.

Week’s Prompt : What does love look like?

This week’s prompt is:   What Does Love Look Like?   

What does love feel like ? Or makes you look like ? Or gives you a feel to look at life ? What does it do ? To you !!

Can you define ..it’s magic to a few 🙂 Has it engulfed your existence . Did it burn you up..or drown in a deep ocean..Or has it made you look like a clown.

So..powerful and invisible ..You want to feel it immensely and really..not knowing what it looks like..we search  the eyes that penetrates our soul and smile that elevates our spirit ..manifold..You can not measure nor return, it passes from one heart to another using relationship as the commuter..we change it’s flavor as we direct to different people.

Love is that power ..which enable a blind to see and a normal to go blind..it makes you fly without wings and die without reasons..Love is the fifth season..it never tells when it begins ..it never ends..it makes you feel..you are on top of the world ..

Easier to forgive if you learn to love..easier to please when you love more..it is not a burden it is not a cave nor den..you never hide ..you are always exposed..vulnerable yet solid..best part of love is “loving” we all love to be loved..and we can remember this ..we can be better for different people in varying situation.

Human beings..love is your weapon it is your tool..use it frequently but do not abuse..nor refuse or confuse with any other emotion that you may live in..do not accept to live without love.

What does love look like ? I have no   answer..but I can find love in every corner I look in 😉

Eyes sketched by Redosking- DS Magazine

When I make a mistake ?

I normally do..when my concentration is wandering miles away..I do go astray..when my hands are clicking on key board..but my thoughts are not with my mind..no..they have gone off..rather run off with my heart. i can not operate both at a time..my eyes must look where I read, my ears must stay tuned to the words you speak..for if I try and listen to a few..I can not understand a word ..that is true.

I still make mistakes, and have no clue is it pressure at work or submission dead line…I give in to haste and definitely makes waste..I promise each time, to be responsible and focused..but  when time ticks away, and phone calls rings..someone wants me to finish and go..but I only know..takes time to review and check-recheck..each line..drawn and finished..but does it all come together as a design or not ..I want to review..without any haste..I don’t want to make any mistake in calculating areas or writing names..putting arrows or paraphrase.

I find it embarrassing to be told..you made a blunder..when you wrote in bold 😉 ooops..ouch! I get it resonating in my head..I simply want to be perfect ..I do 🙂 

Each day, I try to cut on my mistakes..one day will dawn when I no longer will get a chance to awake..perhaps the day before was last of those moments..I did make a few mistake.

Life is all about trying..and little bit of crying..while you are here try hard and cry less 🙂 All the best…hope this time I pass all my test.

I want a vacation from myself :)

Vacation from everyday toil
Does make us free and doesn’t boil
Our minds like bubbling water or sparking foil
Why we will take a break ?
To let us come out of our-self and look towards self
Interesting and unique
Am I dead or living ?
I am out of my body and floating in air
hmmm..little desperate affair
How to return and what will be new?
Hope or thought..like morning dews

Will I accept or refuse..to get confused

with my words, works and ways in life:)

 

Building with jetting out -Veranda

Dezeen showcased an interesting project. “White Tree ” by Sou Fujimoto.

In life ..you meet and depart

Each day, we come across names and people. Few are remembered, most of them goes unnoticed. Yet, we do register them , the moment those people or names are thrown back to us, again.

It happens, a total stranger seems familiar, a blogger who visited and liked, when she returns , feels more like an old friend. What is that connection ? A link. A joy to see again..

I meet people, and forget them, in totality..and when they ring me up or just come to meet me..I have this weird expression all over my face..as if..”Do I know you ?” Very rude !! Yet, I quickly apologize ,if I really recall..or few times..the topic reveals who the person is, in real.

One of my colleague left and then after few years, called..I could recognize voice and position , but not the name..after that he never called.

Few times it happens, that people who meet you leave a part of themselves as a habit or a way of life with you. I call those people, angels of hope. They come and go..a moment in passing ..a helping hand.. a tear in their eyes for you..or perhaps a smile or two..they live with you..names don’t come when you recall, it is their actions that brings tears in your eyes..and you pray from within ..in your heart..please God..make them free from all burden and give them success in their goals. I pray for them, and hope they touch other people’s life as they touched mine..People have reasons to come into and stay in your life.

Daily Prompt: Our House

by Krista on March 3, 2014

What are the earliest memories of the place you lived in as a child? Describe your house. What did it look like? How did it smell? What did it sound like? Was it quiet like a library, or full of the noise of life? Tell us all about it, in as much detail as you can recall.

My memories of the house I remembered..is not the first house I lived in. It must have been my fifth, since my parents were travelling. But, this house was the one with a huge garden and racing tracks. The main living room over looked an enormous garden, where my aunt( father’s sister) would selectively plant roses. So, beautiful ..I wanted to touch and feel, yet I never did..or at least I don’t remember,plucking any..perhaps too preciously nurtured.

The garden had a small hillock, with huge spreading trees of banyan . There lived many owls in those trees, late at night when everyone would go to sleep, I used to return to the living hall, and watch in the moonlight , the hillock where I could see, many fairies dancing away, as the owls hoot.

I remember, asking my maternal grand ma to look at the dancing fairies, but she never could see, what I saw every night. I kept on asking her to look, just over the pedestal like stage, with trees as back drop , and stars with moonlight, would make them seem so magical.

Each night, it was so nice..to watch and smile from far. No one, till today believe me, just as they never believed me then.

I remember them..if they were real..I recall them even if they were part of my imagination.