An idea, a thought, an anecdote, a story or a poem a day!

  Colours of the wind a poem dedicated to a koala who walked into fire* Image credits: suzenelson_suze from BoredPanda  If you can’t see the colours of the wind,  you don’t know how to paint with them,  there are things that you don’t know.  You weren’t born in the sun burnt country, there are things you’ll never never know! You haven’t felt the orange glimmer of the summer wind sweltering with the dusky smell  of the charred tree that was your home, the leaves oozing ashes that gave you succour and the path, a mirage of liquid gold, that led to the water hole. There are thing you didn’t know, and you’ll never never know until you walk the footsteps of those who walked into the blazing glow! What are the colours of the wind, you will never never know! A kangaroo bounds across a road in Gippsland as it tries to escape a bushfire. — ABC News (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) *In the 2019–2020 summer called Black summer, thousands of native animals perished in bushfires in Australia,

P ickup the pen, Wittgenstein, and say something for those who cry in silence.  What? A silent revolution!  Yes, the subaltern cannot speak, but cannot be any more silent.

  a focus on nature or the seasons [1] [2] . ..  a three-line format with 17 syllables arranged in a 5–7–5 pattern; [2] [a] [6] [7] [8]  or about 10 to 14 syllables, [9] [10]  which more nearly approximates the duration of a Japanese haiku [11]  with the second line usually the longest.  Rain, in summer,  La Nina? the little girl crying buckets of tears as the wind changes its rhythm!

 My poem is about those things that I don’t wish to change. Walking slowly, I learnt to run, and said to my father, “see now, I’m flying”! What a change in altitude/everything was suddenly small  or had I grown, in size, and stature. My father said, stay stable, let your mind fly,  let your imagination explore the skies,  but keep your feet on the ground. When I was leaving home, my father said to me,  “My child, remember the reason for venturing out,  don't forget your mission, the purpose behind this move. I remained fixed on the purpose, and the means to getting there justified it!  When I was leaving my country, my mother said to me “My child, go to the new lands, be someone you wish to be, But don’t forget who you are where you come from! I carry all these treasures with me, always  not as a burden but wearing them as a crown as no matter, where i go, no matter what I do hard work, determination, and imagination have always come with me while remaining grounded, knowing my lim

  I learnt it all in a second, things that I had never even understood till then.  Things that I didn’t know, or believed.   While hurtling headlong towards the screaming water of the gorge, which only, a second ago, had presented an excitingly noisy background to our lovemaking , I clutching his face in my hands, looking into his disturbingly dark blue eyes, while his hands trying to find places in my body, which just cried for him not to stop, and then as his hands had grabbed my hips as if to raise me towards his pulsating body, that I willingly rose to,  he had found the key ring and had let me go, and then I had understoo d, and if I had time, I would have made a bullet list of the lessons learnt, about betrayal, about love, about greed, about faith and trust, about true friendship, true love, about life and death,   but in those couple of seconds, some jumbled words just appeared like a text held by my friend, who had died last year in a freak accident,  her bleeding words flashi

 You promised to dream me a river but then you gave me thirst I promised to wait for you but I was the one to leave first  We couldn't dream or drive together The road forked and we had  become friends, just.  So no regrets my dear  neither you nor I knew that the way to happiness goes through tears  first.  We took our separate  ways  never to know the pain and the  pleasures of  love.   Didn't learn anything,  neither to dream a  river of tears nor to cross this  ocean of life in our dream boat of  love.  Yes, it was as easy as singing a song, falling in love, we had just met and become friends You promised to dream me a river, I promised to wait for you  but then it was thirst that you gave me,  and I was the first to leave. We couldn’t dream or drive together, the road forked,  and we took our separate ways.  never to know the pain or the pleasures of love. We didn’t learn anything,  neither to dream a river of tears, nor to cross this ocean of life in a dream boat of love

  Arjun Appadurai’s scapes theory , concept of five scapes for the modern world).

 Personal experiences make the best material for writing.    this paIn never leaves like a photo imprinted stood still at that moment, like a painting on the wall inside! 

 Someone had sent me a two liner about life and those we value in our life.  Some people are in our life and due to those people, life is worth living,  And I was thinking, is my life worth living because of those who are in my life, do they make my life worthwhile, or is it the things that I do which make it so? My poem is based on this question, and my exploration of it, dedicated to people, not only those in my family, but those who share living on this planet with me! L ife is a moment  If life is a moment, I will live in it Instead of trying to make it momentous I’ll just live my life in moments.   Doing what I love doing, With those I love being with. Yes, you are right,  I will write and I’ll read. I might travel, that is true,  finding unknown lands the places not travelled to the roads untrodden, leading to the oceans never imagined. Finding places, where the Sun never sets, and the Moon remains absent for months.  the sky turns green, while the grass is blue. I might see a p

 Wing copper acorn string infinite  I may be broken, bound in a string  of misfortumes,  burnt to ashes   and buried in a wingless copper for eternity. I will still remember my entity I am acorn of the infinite I will rise from the ashes. 

 From time to time, sit close to the one you love, hold his or her hand, and ask, ‘Darling, do I understand you enough? Or am I making you suffer? Please tell me so that I can learn to love you properly. I don’t want to make you suffer, and if I do so because of my ignorance, please tell me so that I can love you better so that you can be happy.” If you say this in a voice that communicates your real openness to understand, the other person may cry.   That is a good sign because it means the door of understanding is opening and everything will be possible again.  

  The trader of dreams A story — written promptly Photo by Aziz Acharki on  Unsplash I slipped into the car, and threw my laptop bag on the passenger’s seat, where I usually did, as usual, I wasn’t expecting to have anyone sit there, at least not tonight. I had left my wings in the car boot this morning, or was that last night! I smiled. Under a white sheet, soft feathers, with crisp white ribbons, my hands were itching to grab them, now. But no, I knew the routine. I started the car, and it drove as smoothly as a feather, I was proud of my car, still! A few weeks ago, it is hard to believe now, I had been driving home, feeling depressed, lonely and empty. The bank job, that I had was demanding, but it didn’t fill me, something was missing. I had wanted that job, always, it was something for which all us had slogged. She had given up on me by the time we were in the final year. Out of our group, only two of us had been successful in getting the cadetship. She had declined and gone bac

Just before these stars go,  worship these creators of complexity relentless  fighting the Collapse And riding on Gravity holding on to oxygen the waste product From the ashes of generations of ancestors Kindle the sparks of life Creativity of  Sunlight Debris of stars the milky way, the rocks, the planets New stars are born, the old ones die, brighter than ever, just as they Go on before they go off!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

 1980 Us as them 2025 Them as us

On my cheek some star dust like a drop of light  is that a tear a dew drop a rain drop or a tear in the fabric of my endurance!

 T hat’s your challenge for this week. Write a piece of short fiction based on a personal memory, or perhaps create a character that pays homage to someone from your past.

 This blissful laughter,  this clapping of small hands,  this music, on this lively tune, O’ life, don’t dance away  behind those little footsteps, let me say my grace at least, as I acknowledge my fortune!

 What is to be remembered  their bravery of course, their dedication, their sacrifices, their victories and what needs to be forgotten, lest we remember!!

  I’m basically not a notes person.   I used to sit with my text book, and think, what notes should I take? Thank god or the inventor of high lighters, at least I could highlight what I thought was important! Anyway, lets not digress, I have never been very good with making lists, as I’m not a very organised person. I don’t make plans! Don’t get me wrong, I do plan, but I don’t ‘make’ plans. If I plan to finish a story tonight, I might actually start another one, and then finish that, without touching the story I had planned to write. So what’s the point of making a plan! I hadn’t planned to write even this article, as I hadn’t remembered, and after submitting my piece on gratitude, just before switching off, I started writing this! (Between us, why I hadn’t written anything about this theme of procrastination, earlier, because, the very first day, I did plan to do so, and write something on that theme everyday, and then, completely got side tracked). A few years ago, I had planned to

Gratitude is a feeling of contentment, that transforms one into a believer, who has faith in something beyond, trust in God’s benevolence. Having gratitude is more than just being thankful, it is a worship, in which the sawali , the seeker, says to God, “once I have your love, I have received everything, now I can’t raise my hands to ask for more”! “ Sab kuch, khuda se maang liya  tujhe maangne ke baad uthte nahi hei haath mere is dua ke baad”! (is this god's love or beloved, we can decide, as having both can mean ‘having everything’) However, it is quite easy for us to be thankless too, as there is always, a bigger and a better, and a greener pasture yonder, and we become wistful about what we don’t have rather, what we have. What feeling is this, lack of contentment or lack of gratitude,

 We all want to write!  Right? And that’s the reason why we are here, at least I’m!  I joined medium in August this year, though I had joined because of my interest in reading, and then I started to write as well. However, I didn’t start writing just by being on medium but I started writing on medium. I was already in the habit of writing daily, and had been in the business of writing for a while. I am a teacher, and for quite a long period, I had been a researcher, reading and writing in and for the academia. Writing is my first language, as before I could speak well, I was writing. Plotting, planning, writing, rewriting, the whole process was going on, though, I was writing in my mind, and the dialogue I continued to have with my imaginary characters, mainly happening inside, in my imagination. and then I started telling my stories, and with that I started speaking well too, as I was always dipping into my stash of words to come up with something pithy, prompt, a word, a phrase that

 Because of the importance of eye contact in communication, it is more common for two people to interrupt one another while talking on the telephone, as opposed to face-to-face conversations, because the absence of eye contact makes it more difficult to effectively regulate turn-taking. I am thinking that with our communication style and mode changing, where does the eye contact stand?

  Your story must include someone PACKING A SUITCASE. Your story must include the phrase “ACROSS A CROWDED ROOM” (as dialogue or narrative). Your story must include the words CHARM, CRUSH and FAINT. Feel free to interpret these criteria in any creative way you like. The phrase must be word-for-word but can be part of a larger sentence. The three required words can be longer but the original spelling must be retained (e.g., “CHARMing” or “FAINTed”). Your story must be 500 words or fewer (hyphenated words count as just one) and the winning story will earn its talented author $500AU. We also love seeing you share the fun throughout the weekend by tagging #furiousfiction in your Twitter and Instagram updates. You have 55 hours. The clock is ticking. She looked across the crowded room her eyes searching for the door furiously. It was time to go, but he was nowhere to be seen.    Half an hour ago, he had gone to bring her a drink 'just for the road' but had not eventuated back. 

 Writing is an art Just like pointing Singing g Dancing And requires Some talent And a lit of hard work Practice

The day when Mera piya ghar aaya  —  my beloved came home I found every corner of my heart lit even though there was darkness around, I smiled to find you smiling,  it was as if destiny had smiled. After the darkness, comes light,  the new moon smiles,  the Bethlehem star points to the east.  After separation, when pia comes home That’s Diwali That’s Id That’s  Christmas.  This piece is dedicated to such festivals of happiness! 

  Descartes, a French philosopher has been known to have said : “I think, therefore I am!” Declaring that human intellect is much more than human feelings, Descartes had started a branch of philosophy. (we can talk more about that at some other point). My question here is that is it true for all of us, Do we think, therefore we are, or are we ‘that’ already, that is why we think that way? I mean, can we say “what we think that is what we already are or that’s what we become?”

Climate change and global warming Global warming is at an alarming level, unless the polluters take a pledge to shift away from fossil fuels, reduce green house gases, and plan to reduce deforestation, the world is at the brink of a catastrophe. But no such pledge is coming from those nations, there is a reluctance to commit to any such restriction on their own consumption, or production. To be able to meet its target, the world needs to act now. Today at the COP26 Summit: It was said it is one minute left to doom’s day clock. Is that a tragedy of commons too? there is a growing sense of unease in Glasgow that they may fail to deliver the outcomes needed to keep the world on track to holding warming to well below 2 degrees and as close to 1.5 degrees as possible After taking, whatever they could from the environment, minerals, coal, iron ore, petroleum, wood, food, the nations aren’t talking of any responsibility. As when it comes to emissions, commitments or helping poor nations to bu

One thing for sure makes people unhappy. Someone's success. Yes, jealousy is that feeling which raises its green head,  when someone we see is doing better than us. Whether, it be that the person is successful in being lucky in love,or having a successful career,  Sometimes, we want to have what that person, over there is having, we become jealous, envious, competitive,  It is so easy to be yourself. No tricks, only treats and treats. 

I wished to be that flower, which blooms and brings fragrance and colour all around I wanted to be that star, which glows and shines on the dark streets and alley ways  I pined to be that bird which sings the sweetest song for its beloved, and departs The mistake that was made  And not to be repeated was I overstayed my visit I kept glowing after the night was over I ended up staying after the song was sung!