Indelible Musings

Hi Friends,  This is the fourth poem in the series- Poetry Trails. This post was initially supposed to be posted on my friend's blog. But due to urgent circumstances, she hasn't been able to do it. From hereon, the Poetry Trails will be published on Indelible Musings. Once my friend is a little less occupied from her paper works and studies, we shall continue altering between her and my blog. Till then, Happy Reading!  Source It has all been so hard till now, Hard as a rock, tough to break, I try to move away from the hard life But the life that I thought as hard rock is actually like a magnetic pull That's pulling me close to itself, That doesn't let me realise my true potential, Or actually it does,  But I choose to ignore, I choose to see that any rock as big as it may be as hard as it may be is susceptible to pressure So, I just need to push, Push as high and deep  as I can, So that the rock breaks into pieces...

Hi Friends, This is the third poem in the series- Poetry Trails- that's started by me and another friend. The link to the previous two poems have been given at the end of the post. Hope you like this too. Happy Reading! Source We fell out of love  There was nothing we could do We tried, we discussed, we met Yet we couldn't rekindle the romance What was missing? We did not know  Was it the love? Or the embrace?  Was it us sitting side by side or lying next to each other?  Was it looking eye to eye or holding hands tight?  Was it what we call ‘few minutes of bliss’  or the pursuit for an effortless connect? There was something missing. Sometimes it was you,  And other times, it was me we were always missing,  from each other’s lives and hence we were missing the life  that delightfully happened around us I longed for a long night talk,  You took too long to melt the rock,  You though...

I grew up in a nuclear family. Though my grandparents and other relatives lived in the same city, we met on festivals or occasions. I always detested the fact that my maternal grandparents would never visit for a long duration until I would threaten them in my childlike tone. A little similar yet different was the situation for my paternal grandmother. She wanted to come and spend time with us but couldn't do so as I had an aunt (differently-abled) who preferred staying at our uncle's home (where she was born) and considered that her home ONLY. I miss my grandparents a lot. While my paternal grandparents and the aunt are in heavenly abode, my maternal grandparents are too old to travel down to Chennai. I wish I can bring them here at least once. As I see the two grandmothers walking through my the neighbourhood, I am reminded of several such circumstances wherein, the joys of being with grandparents could have been realised by me. I befriended the two grandmother one fine ev...

Source When things look bleak Take a deep breath Hold your head high Aim to see the sky To see it like never before To see it like the universe is all about you See the good, the high, the bad, the fall But, burn the fall and rise from the ashes Like a phoenix Aim to make it work like never before Imagine your dreams take a real shape A shape that you desire not how others want it to be Dream, create, produce Let your thoughts become things...

I have always been a morning person. Until I took the journalism path. Getting up early morning had become a passe because late nights had become the norm. Now that am out of that journalism mode, and back somewhere close to getting up early mornings, I cannot stop admiring what an early rise from the bed brings with it for the day. I would prefer observing the early morning by taking a walk around where I stay. However, I end up marveling at the surroundings from my kitchen window that overlooks a recently constructed and occupied multi-storey apartment, the series of other flats in my own locality, a portion of the main road, and on the other side of the road, the various tech parks. There is nothing amusing about these non-living things. But there is definitely something fascinating about standing in front of the gas stove, brewing your tea and gazing out of the window. Gazing at the morning walkers, who without fail walk, jog, run everyday, as I still stand there either brewin...

Hi Friends, A dear friend of mine had posted the following lines (in italics) on her Facebook status. She loves to write, and more so when it's poetry. There was something that made me write further down those lines. The result- the following poem as you can see. Thus, we both decided that we would blog together about love and positivity on her blog like this. We are calling it "Poetry Trails" wherein, either of us will begin and continue from there on. Hope all of you will like our small gesture in spreading happiness around. By the way, that dear friend of mine is also a brilliant blogger, and you can read her blogs here- "Pretty Mornings" I look at the stars,  and they look back at me.  We do the same thing every night.  There is something about being silent, and looking at each other, They don’t judge, I don’t question them for  being too bright or too dull either,  The silence between us is comforting They let me ponder and think ov...

In this stunning novel, Paulo Coelho, dramatises the struggle within every soul between light and darkness, and its relevance to our everyday struggles. Can we dare to follow our dreams, to have the courage to be different and to master the fear that prevents us from truly living? The Devil and Miss Prym is a story charged with emotion, in which the integrity of being human meets a terrifying test.  I finished reading this book in a day. The line in the blurb of the book- "C an we dare to follow our dreams, to have the courage to be different and to master the fear that prevents us from truly living?"- caught my attention at the outset. It was more a sense of Deja Vu that   made me read the book. I have read Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' long back and hence, getting back to some book reading with him was definitely a good idea. Some books do not need reviews, instead, you get to learn or takeaway  so many realisations that you tend to relate to them more of...

Holding hands, Walking side by side, They strolled on the path That led nowhere. Clutching the hands tight, Shoulders touching, Her laughter could be heard Here, there, everywhere. They walked and talked, Their bodies swayed To the rhythm of waves Oblivious of the worldly space. She smiled with her head tilted on his shoulders He held her firmly His arms spoke of his support. Looking into each other's eyes They embraced in nature's lap Oblivious of the worldly space Their love blossomed.

She was lying on the bed with her baby curled beside her. As the baby breastfed, her line of  thoughts waved from one thing to other. "Why are things like this?" "Am I really becoming an atheist?" "Will praying to God really solve my problem?"- her trail of thoughts broke as her child detached himself from her feed and slept off peacefully. She slowly tucked herself out of the bed and walked towards the hall.  Standing in front of the door that opened to the temple room in her house, she pondered whether to open or not. It had been months since she opened that door, lit a dia or agarbatti. Finally, she opened the door after much hesitation initially. She sat down to clean the floor that was filled with cobwebs and dirt, and the dried leaves of the flower that was last kept for performing the morning rituals. Having cleaned the floor and the shelf on which were kept frames of not one but several gods and godesses, she sat down with her hands perched togeth...