My Journey

Towards horizon I sail,

slammed by waves

and tugged ahead through fiery oars of will,

a distant lighthouse gives hope to move on...

the timeless search for 'MYSELF' has just begun!

Mother Nature

 

Day by day we use courtesy showing gratitude for trivial favors receiving smiles and more favors in return.Moving ahead are not we forgetting silent yet eternal Mother Nature?The breeze we breath in is a boon of nature,the fragrant flowers  are used in abundance for celebrating our joys or to moan in grief but ignorant man keeps on using nature`s  gifts without  saying a word to thank.The trees decorated on festivals reflect elitism,happiness and next day again considered useless so the cruel man cuts their branches to develope his nation.The arrival of rain inspires musicians who are honoured with  heavy garlands and poor rain is cursed for traffic jams or causing floods by newspapers.In a  famous work of Sidney it is said that, "Nature`s world is brazen, the poets only deliver a golden".'ironically he could not realize that its nature that makes poets.The lovely birds are caged for entertainment in the emancipated countries of the world.The awakened man with knowledge of global warming does not hesitate in increasing it further.

     Since the creation of Eden Mother nature gives all her gifts before being asked by her children but man`s  desires are insatiable so he always wants more.The nature cries in agony yet there are very few to wipe her tears...feel her pain  before she abandons you repenting!

A Character

I marvel how Nature could ever find space
For so many strange contrasts in one human face:
There's thought and no thought, and there's paleness and bloom
And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom.

There's weakness, and strength both redundant and vain;
Such strength as, if ever affliction and pain
Could pierce through a temper that's soft to disease,
Would be rational peace--a philosopher's ease.

There's indifference, alike when he fails or succeeds,
And attention full ten times as much as there needs;
Pride where there's no envy, there's so much of joy;
And mildness, and spirit both forward and coy.

There's freedom, and sometimes a diffident stare
Of shame scarcely seeming to know that she's there,
There's virtue, the title it surely may claim,
Yet wants heaven knows what to be worthy the name.

This picture from nature may seem to depart,
Yet the Man would at once run away with your heart;
And I for five centuries right gladly would be
Such an odd such a kind happy creature as he.

                                                   -William Wordsworth