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

Today a friends mother passed away  She was not ill, nor suffering,  had all her marbles, remembered everything,  the sad and the happy days,  Could tell her stories  joys of life, childhood and youth, Falling in love, eloped with the forbidden  man of her neighbourhood, a full life  Bliss of motherhood, moving countries,  Settling in, working to support her man,  raising 6 children, marrying them off,  And then started that cycle of loss,  the grief of losing a child, a husband,  her own health. Deterioration and depression,  just sat and waited, for her daughters  to come,  on their designated days.  She knew what's going on, just  a  bit hard of hearing,  but could talk,  Just couldn't walk,  A broken hip  can't be mended, was told,  so left alone, she was just old! I gave my condolences 🙏  And heard my friend saying,  She died in peace, no suffering, She is f...

  Published in iPoetry Neera Handa Dr Oct 16, 2021 · 1 min read · Member-only · Listen Passing On A poem Photo by  ian dooley  on  Unsplash Each day is a grain of salt in an hourglass trickling down one by one As the space once occupied by one, being replaced by another and another, and then emptiness. Just like a handful of sand slipping through the fingers, no matter how much held tightly, still leaving the fist empty sooner or later. Like steps into a forest, each one, taking us away from one to, the other end, leaving no trace, no sign, that we were here, that we passed. Like the twinkling stars, disappearing one by one as the sun rises the invisible hand wiping the sky off all the traces of the stars, ready to rewrite another story, of another day, and life goes on, even after we pass on, and the world goes on. Oh, yes, without us!

Scared of the one who followed me, it walks  in my shadow I realised 

  Walking along the banks of a lost river, that I remember, used to be. Forlorn, feeling empty, finding it hard to focus, tired, teary, and in an urgent need for some water, I came upon a bottle of some kind. Transparent like glass, but made of some unbreakable substance. But no opening that I could see at a glance, neither a cork nor a twist top, what kind of bottle it was? Foggy inside, a piece of paper of some kind with some strange letters, and, unknown symbols in different colours, floating in it. A bottle with no mouth, but it spoke to me! When I shook it the letters on the paper inside it started to melt in the fog. Their rainbow colours dissolving and resolving themselves, and a sound started to emanate from it Ouummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm which started to turn into a song in a language, I didn’t understand. But the music swayed me, and I shut my eyes, dancing to the tune, forgetting everything else in its lore, Karagre Vasate Lakshmi, Karmadhye Saraswati, Karmule tu Govind...

 So, in that ‘mahaul’ of change, you have asked these questions; What is the one thing you want to change about yourself?  Are you afraid of making any changes in your life?  If yes, why? Does change make you afraid in life? I agree with the premises of this questioning. Change is inevitable, and we are afraid of any change, whether the change in things that automatically occurs, or those changes that we have to make, in order to live our lives, to adjust to accommodate with the changes happening around us, or in our selves.  Different stages of life they all demand changes. There are things that we get used to: people who are familiar, we hate to see them leave. But they leave. Places where we are comfortable, we leave. 

 Dystopia ice grey sleep renew Dystopian summer How icey it was Cold and dry with a sting- the grey skies hovering over any  hope of renewal   nor any respite for disillusion  Sleep was missing from the eyes!  Dystopian summer  followed the silent spring! 

I didn't believe, but that was the end of the world. Are you coming? We are going to Mars! Come quickly!  Finally a holiday from everything, her last thoughts! 

 Build your piece around this dialogue “I think I finally met The One.” “Again?”

  Her Name Was  Rain The first time, I saw her,  was also in the rain, running and laughing, like a child her beautiful hair all wet,  tangled, and flying wild, her attire clinging to her body and her body soaking wet, leaving nothing to imagine, tantalising from every side a woman like no one,  a woman of her own kind, dreamy, with a smile,  a footstep so light, delicate  like a gazelle,  and a strong mind, her eyes, like lightening,  her laughter, a sound like a thunder, you’d hear in the woods,  a tinkling bell  you’d hear in a temple, like a nursery rhyme,  you’d sing to a child! She grabbed my umbrella,  and threw it on the ground,  she dragged me with her to run wild in the rain she rained with laughter, she ran with rain, pouring,  colouring everything in water colours drenched and wet, and beckoning me to follow her lead, she ran away again, she taught me she caught my imagination,  I love rain rain ...

  Oh! blessed are the ignorant who sin, but not the sinner who knows! Sahil Patel  has set the July third week’s prompt in Lifeline. He challenges us to consider writing  … a poem inspired by the character of the movie/book you liked. You can add more qualities and strengths to the character. In nutshell, you can use your creativity to make a strong character. I  have been completely flabbergasted as which movie/book I should write about, and which character, should I choose.  There have been so many books and plays I have read, and the movies I have seen, and so many characters, people, and sometimes, animals, aliens, who have kept me company, taking turns at different stage in life, becoming more prominent, more alive, like an electric butterfly buzzing in my mind, and then becoming less important at a different stage, receding in the background.  They have been giving me hope, giving me strength, showing me how to be what I want to be, and many others, s...

social critiques that are common in the arts. quantum-physics focus (see  Arts & Culture: Poetry Takes on Quantum Physics ). The quantum world is often described as strange when viewed through classical logic. But when I view the quantum world through poetic logic, I find it familiar and poetically sound. unacknowledged poetic principles to describe the properties of quantum phenomena such as uncertainty, observation, superposition, and entanglement. In the principle of indeterminacy or the uncertainty principle, a subatomic particle’s future position and momentum cannot be known with certainty, since its present state is measured in probabilities; in poetry, ambiguities that arise from uncertainty can be a form of artistic depth. In quantum physics, the observer affects the observed; in poetry, a reader can affect a poem’s meaning through interpretation. In quantum... https://physics.aps.org/articles/v15/111

 When the dawn comes Sun bestows its light, in each direction, it flows The place she wakes in, is dark and murky, with  her radiance it glows. Oh! blessed are the  ignorant who sin, but not  the sinner who knows! When the dawn comes Sun bestows its light,  in each direction, it flows Where she wakes up,  is dark and murky, but its her radiance that glows. Oh! blessed are the  ignorant who sin, but not  the sinner who knows!

  From the Beauty to the Beast I’m all love,  I can give you some too,  to take away your sorrows,  to make you love the world again. I’m all soft, fragile, and fragrant I can touch you, soothe you, caress you,  to take away your calluses, to free you,  from every pain. I’m strong, and I am persistent too,  that I can do it I can fill you with my optimism,  to take away your negativity,  the things about which you complain. I live in stars, I walk on the milky way,  I can create dreams, and then  turn them into reality too. I can fill your life with star dust,  sunshine and blue skies, yes,  I can, if you let me, take you  with me, to a happy domain. I have the seven notes on my finger tips I can lend you the  sargam  of life,  so you can also dance with me breaking every taboo, every restrain, I am Beauty, and I have so much to give I can bathe you in my light, to take away your darkness, to shine...

  Neera Handa Dr Nov 22, 2021 · 2 min read · Listen RESPONSE TO RAVYNE’S DAILY PROMPT, ABOUT LEARNING AFTER BEING PUSHED! Life lessons story-  afterwards  — Photo by  Ivan Tsaregorodtsev  on  Unsplash 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 bul let list of the lessons learnt, about betrayal, about love, abou...