On a Slate.

'Nirasha'

Ok! So for those who don’t know the meaning of the word imprinted above, it means:

• Hopelessness
• Gloom
• Disappointment
• Despair
• Frustration
• Let-down
• Despondency
• Dismay
• Discouragement
• Melancholy

To all those lovely people reading this blog,

1. Can you share one such instance when you were hit by it the most?
2. What did you do to overcome it?
3. Do you know any fighter who was at the extremes of hopelessness and yet has emerged out as a winner?
4. To what extent of ‘Nirasha’ a person can go? In what scenario it is justified?
5. How do you tackle people who spread this malady around?

Tell me a story you have faced/witnessed/heard on Nirasha.

♥ Words on a slate are never permanent. Lets rub off the traces of hopelessness from our lives. ♥

~MystiquePree

A Musing Of 'Hope'!

Burning the heart and burning the soul

Tragedies befall when terror takes its toll.

Tears stop rolling but humanity cries

When marring the emotions; cruelty and hatred rise.

Deep under the grave happiness lies asleep

Seeing the wounds even the mountains weep.

In the name of God one kills the other

(With) those blood smeared hands then offers prayer.

'We' the human beings are shameless enough

To hide our sins under the religious turf.

Still "Hope" lingers everywhere around

New dreams reap from the blood stained ground.

One day, only love and peace will rule every heart

Let all of us unite and make a new start.

Lighting a candle my heart prays for the departed souls

May its light burn every evil that our hearts hold.

~~~***~~~

Terror can't kill the 'Spirit'!

~Windchime~

From my white window beauteous

Hangs a windchime since many days,

Seven sticks of whose in delight plays,

My life’s musical notes as it sways.

With every blow of air and each drop of rain,

The windchime starts to sing and swing,

To remove the patches of unheard pains.

The memories when usher sleepless nights,

The seven sticks join to sing lullaby

Soothing the soul, the music turns

Pained memories to a lifelong gain.

In the vastness of my blue skies,

My heart, like a small paper kite flies,

My mind’s strings doesn’t let go-

My mercy pleas to sorrows in denial dies..

Yet dances merry the fragile kite in the sky,

With every beat of the old windchime

And when my heart loses its path and weeps,

The windchime’s tunes holds me aloft and high..

Whenever the soothing air seems far away,

And gloomy remains the world, all night and day

Hope is what my windchime never loses..

The hope of air, and the hope of rain

And the hope itself becomes "The Music of Silence".

~~~***~~~