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Showing posts from August, 2016
under the pressure of sighs  the feelings of immaturity still running after in this mysterious path of life. life always shows you a different picture  beyond your own imagination. only one question hovers around... 'when will you learn?'
Sometime whole world want you to resist your own psychological feelings and give little space to yourself for self realization. And the truth is no one ever in this earth is immortal. Money always plays a major role to give a shape to your personality among many things
Autism Autism spectrum disorder(ASD) debar the person concerned to behave normally. They face difficulties in social interaction, communication. Still they are focused people and sometime excel in many sphere like writing, painting etc. By proper training they can live without any help in some cases. It differs from person to person according to their behavior and acceptance of training .
If I will be silent,  you will  feel your fault and  time and again will go outside of this changing world.  If I will sing a song, you will do your job peacefully... and this is the  life how we both are walking hand in hand to envelop our passion.
Moss It was beyond my thought, how I discovered her, the moss lady, a statue not far from my stone garden. Somebody told, it as the statue of ten thousand years, when intelligence and philosophy sprouted in the mind of philosopher's land of the new earth. In my dream no one was their except the moss lady to disturb. I meet Arpita in her Office chamber. She was inside the grey world of files and had no time for a little smile. I compared her with the moss lady and again discovered her inside Arpita, who is disciplined in the eyes of the society. A good wife, excellent mother, loving daughter and a disciplined working woman, definitely the sole bearer of torch light in the developing civilisation. -Arpita, pl look at me. - yes - let us smile and run after butterfly... - are you mad? - no - then? - I want to see the smile in your lips. - Smile! We are now in our ripe age. What people around will feel? I returned with the sighs. Moss already enveloped her to live a life. ...
a dragon fly I am not at all interested to write memoir. Revealing the truth …Ah! it is horrible. May be some truth will make you the bad man. Often I think what blocks people not to endure the truth, while whole universe is full of good and bad. Hey… it is too psychological. Rather, I should write a story of dragon flies, colorful and amazing. One day with Priya I was on the fifth floor of the office building. Her work place was not so comfortable in the summer, but in rainy day it turns into a magical place to enjoy and get revelation. After sipping tea I looked outside the window. Some dragon flies were flying there to bring the memory of my childhood. ‘’Priya, do you know, I have deep relation with these dragon flies.’ ‘Is it true. I also have their memory.’ ‘The universal truth is, each one of us have a story to tell about dragon flies.’ ‘ Yes, you are right. Let us write about them.’ ‘You mean a memory.’ ‘No, I mean a story with truth.’ I brought a white colour drawing...
enveloping the feelings in my heart my tongue sang the song of sweetness and blocked tears in the eyes to unveil the glory of agony in liesure
how to write...  leaving all dream outside the garden of thought focusing on the spell ' how to write...' engrossed the soul each day to wake up and sleep inside the boring net of ' how to write' if this will be the fate of a soul with great wish to be a writer, century will pass, civilisation just burst and fade away with smiling mock the soul will never be a writer. ah! amid the swirling passion the path here is the moments of glory, open to all for taking a generous flight, may be a minute is enough in the coffee house or under the shadow of coconut tree enough is there in the chirping nature to look and paint your canvas with pleasurable colours, none here to break your cosmic dance you are welcome for deep penance... now you discover your heart bleeding the creativity passionate, a friend like, for your pleasure and deserted silence. ©  Sarojini Pattayat   
It is not the fear that makes you inferior before other. It is your own shyness.Look at my work and dream to be a writer. One can never be a writer without writing. Day dreaming can not make you a writer. Just write what you want to write in your leisure. You will discover yourself by writing and one day really reward yourself to know that really you  have much more like each one to present before the world. So, be happy.
second mistake is your decision. so, be brave... book is the best friend to advice and history is the best...may be your own history it will show you the path and future will certainly welcome you.
we have good feelings and bad feelings good feelings to walk a step ahead and bad feelings to shed tear in some corner. however, we feel and that is our fate to know good and bad our enduring capacity is more important in all feelings let us end the bitterness to unveil joy
what is in name? you can give any name for any character without deep thought. writing is the rhythms of your life. look and write ...the only option in your hand to be a writer.
Even in your gloom you can go ahead with your unique thought to create your own world and live there with rich thoughts. only you have to leave your pride and accept the joy around you to catch the positive thoughts from the dark negatives. you can only have the glimpses of stars in deep darkness. so, in your trouble you can feel the strength of escapes and catch them without second thought to escape the hurdles. you will be unique winner to smell the smile.
finding a space for writing is always hard for a writer who has day job. and the person who works in home  and  in office is the song of melancholy.  where the space and time to paint the creativity dancing in the mind and capturing the heart?  one moment and one line can never satisfy the thirst. only little satisfaction to argue for the modern art may not be a classic. one line... the girl is after the butterfly from so many years... never she caught it and pursued  it with lullaby to be her friend... the day became cloudy and night were with dread dreams... but, no time to make it a great story except lonely whispers wandering how the novel can reach to the reader or touch the climax and slowly look the ending point. however begin and end points are close to each other like best friend ever in this world as everything is a circle. still time plays a great role.  kill the time, time will definitely kill you. still thin...
what is present will be past within no time. so, in the given period you have to plan your time. behind the glass window it was raining cats and dog, but,  the mind had its freedom to move anywhere. I just meet my friend writing her new novel with serious mood, and I talked with her in mobile phone. she told, ' whether I am free to move physically and wet in the rain' I replied 'no'. she laughed a lot and invited me  to have a cup of tea in her philosophical chamber of discoveries. I could not resist myself and went. we shared tea with a jolly mood looking outside the dance of dragonfly. the essence of the day was very philosophical really. 'freedom within  and outside with rules and regulations of society and without such rules'. now yes, that present is already past and a thing to remember and smile.
It is easy to remain silent... let burden make chaos and pass away... change is the soul of life... wait and see what time want to gift you... don't be panic as everything will go away with the time. have faith in yourself and step forward. recognize your goal and utilise the opportunity... worship time time is money...
universe is in you its not a thing to be worried, or say the environment was not so amusing, its usual time will pass away with little touch passionate or ordinary to discuss. in the cloudy evening the pitter pattar sound is the only song to share and celebrate... let mind flew away and feel the touch of unseen horizon. at best I can say with vow, you are not alone as universe is in you...
writing letter is an art.  today I wrote a letter to my writer friend. she is excited to get it.  may be after two or three days she will receive it.  but, it is a discovery to feel  a beautiful path  that is in present scenario useless for so many.  during writing I experienced  the talk and arguments  between my heart and mind.  smile normally danced on my lips. suddenly I felt myself in the age of my school days.  I deeply felt the rhythms and voice of joys and sorrows.  new awakening I experienced.   writing letter is better than writing diary.