My thoughts..

Sometimes, my thoughts translate into blurbs,. A part of my vocabulary, spills out,. Breaking out into a piece of prose or a an imaginative poetry….

Sometimes, my thoughts translate into action,. A part of me, performs some deeds,. Adding to my list of Karma, good or bad….

Sometimes, my thoughts translate into words,. A part of me, voices the thoughts into words,. Making it a part of my language…

Sometimes, I realise whatever I do,. Is totally in me, in my control, My writings, my actions, my language are mine, they are all just mine and I can choose them all…

My thoughts can take me on a long drive into the future,. Or they can rewind and play scenes from my past,. But I can choose the road to take or the film to watch, now and this moment, today..

A realisation dawned, and hopefully, will be fulfilled too ūüėä


Practice to polish.

via Daily Prompt: Polish


I polish my language, so I do not hurt anyone by my words ,

I polish my tone, so I do not show irritation and anger to others,

I polish my actions, so I do not show hatred and jealousy to my fellow beings,

I polish my heart to receive love from others,

I polish my mind to silence, to receive energies from the universe,

I polish my thoughts to practice the art of forgiving,

I polish my being and life, to practice to flow with HIS flow and to surrender.

But then, I plunder, I fumble, I mumble, I grumble, I fail, because I am human…

And then I start over, again to polish my failures to move forward and continue to flow with the flow of life.




PC :

The diary of a newborn

via Daily Prompt: Translate


I come into this world, all by myself,

And then, I get to know my family.

I fend for myself, for food and love,

I cry  my  lungs out, to speak and reach out.


I get to hear odd sounds and voices,

Which to me is no less than noises,

I can see funny faces all around me,

And everyone seems to huddle around me.


I am a new born, I have a very few needs,

I need to feed, burp and sleep,

Language, I don’t know any,

People who understand me are not many.


There’s one angel though,

Who seems to know my needs,

Who takes care of me and my feeds,

I feel totally safe in her arms, indeed.


I need no language to talk to her,

Nor does she need any one to translate,

We speak the language of love,

She’s my mother, who understands me in any state.




Image courtesy  :



via Daily Prompt: Sound

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There was a time, when sounds were simple and enjoyable :

Natures beauty, was the chirping of birds,

Oozing nectar, were a babies words,

Mama’s lullabies, were soothing balms,

Talking to friends made you calm,

Anger visited, once in a blue moon,

Parting goodbye to relatives, to come back soon.

When the postman, with a letter, would ring the bell ‘ding dong’,

The good old tape recorder, sang you a song,

Typewriters typed ‘clickety clack’,

And the alarm every morning, rang from the round old clock.

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These are the days, when,

Natures beauty, has become an update on social media,

Babies words are often considered cribbing,

Mama’s lullabies are far bygone,

Talking to friends is chatting via phone,

Anger pays a visit everyday,

Visitors are gone by end of day,

Postman’s ‘ding dong’, replaced by a ping,

MP3s and gadgets doing the sing,

Typewriters are now extinct,

World wide webs are now the new links,

Old grandma clocks, are things of the past,

“Smart”¬†phones changing rules very fast.

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How I wish, somebody could gift me my good old days, those days filled with fun, joy and laughter. When distances and travel was huge, but people were connected from the heart. Unlike present days, when people live in the same house and do not connect with family or friends but prefer electronic media and gadgets for company. Different generations, different sounds.



Image courtesy :