Believe...

A few years back, I had watched The Polar Express. It carried a beautiful message to believe. Such a simple word, yet a depth of meaning woven in those seven letters. I am glad I did, and still believe...

*In God. I know He is there, watching.

*In faith, that hand which never gives way when all seems lost.

*Love comes again.

*I make a difference, even if a small one, in the life of another.

*Dreams do come true.

*Heartfelt repentance can undo a mistake.

*True friends do get back.

*One need not always be by our side to show they are there.

*There is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

*Justice is served right here on earth, well before Judgement Day.

*Nature is what makes a person beautiful.

*It is better to be ignorant than know it wrong.

*Everyone has the power to chisel their own destiny.

*First impressions are not always right.

*Pampering is the best gift we can give ourselves.

*Music can heal.

*Tears are not a sign of weakness but a silent prayer.

*Angels do exist within each of us.

*Life is beautiful in spite of all its flaws.

*If you love someone, you should love the whole package.

*It is better to be oneself and be liked less than to imitate another.

*Choice makes a person what they are.

*Respecting another is important to respect yourself.

*Babies in any form are the epitome of innocence.

*There is still hope.

*That it will be alright.

*Imperfections are what make us human.

*We all have a purpose in life.

*The day you stop believing is the day you cease to live.

*Time might change my beliefs, but not the fact that I believe.

So tell me, do you believe?

Images :

*Believe by Punkey101
*The Beauty Of Colors by Liek
*Believe by messa
*Believe by cosmosue

Short Story - Highway No. 57

Get out! She yelled. Looking daggers at her, he left, slamming the door behind him.

Noooooooooooo, she bolted upright, jactitating. Blackouts usually followed her crying fits, but not nightmares. Shafts of fading sunlight pierced the eerie shadows of the room. Getting up to turn on the light, she hoped he was alright. She could not help worrying as she cooked, tidied the house, took a warm shower and sat down for a lonely supper. The radio was playing their song. She was about to turn it off when an announcement came on, A young motorcyclist was killed and a motorist seriously injured in a head-on collision at about 8pm on Highway No 57. The police have not yet identified the deceased, whose body has been taken to the General Hospital for autopsy.

The fork clanged on the floor, springing her into action. His phone sang Everything I Do on the refrigerator in response to her call. She hoped he was at Dan’s, his childhood friend and best man. But he had not heard from Rob over the weekend. Frantically, she called whoever she could think of, only to get the same response. Putting on a jacket, she grabbed the car keys and stepped into the chilly Sunday night, not noticing the silhouette on the dimly lit porch settee. She was about to get into the car when two strong arms seized her from behind, turning her around on the spot. Her eyes widened in shock, and then in relieved surprise.

Note : This was my entry for the Running Wind Short Fiction Contest held recently. The story had to be composed in not more than 250 words, using the picture above for inspiration. No, I did not get a prize. I really learnt a lot about improving my writing skills though :)

Reading Nought Or Reading Too Much?

Writing is an art. Words can express, words can heal, words can soothe. Ah the magic of powerful words! We all have our own style. Every writer is unique in their own way. Blogging is a platform to portray my writing to the world. And a great platform it is indeed. I have met many people through this interface. Some have become very close on a personal front, few vanished, some come and go, but many have remained and become good friends with whom I interact on a regular basis via this platform. My blogger pals are from various parts of the world. We speak different languages, follow different faiths, but on this interface we follow one language. The language of the heart and the mind is the same universally.

I have read somewhere, to be a good writer one should first be a good reader. Nothing more true. Once during my college days, when I had mentioned reading as a hobby to someone, they said, "Talk about something more active". Hello? If it had not been for all the reading I have done since my early years (read NOT academics), and still do, I don't think I would have developed my lingua franca or the way of putting down words. Reading goes a long way in developing one's writing skills. On contrary to what most people think, reading is not a passive process. Sometimes, it takes more effort to read than the effort that actually went into create a piece of writing. I had instituted an award last year in appreciation of my readers. As I said at that time, it takes great depth of mind to understand the true essence of what the writer wants to convey.

It is a nice feeling when people read your work, and even better when they take the effort to let you know their opinion about it. Not everyone takes out the time to do so. As much as I appreciate my readers and their views, at times it is very nettlesome that some just comment for the sake of commenting without having even read a word of the post. I am not pointing out anyone here. I know some posts of mine, especially poems, convey thoughts which are hard to unravel. But most of the time, I use simple language with a very clear message which conveys what the post is all about. I do not expect anyone to analyze my writing with a microscope and dissect it, because nobody could possibly have so much time. Still, there are many readers who add so much to my work by their wonderful and erudite opinions, for which I am ever grateful.

I try to read and interpret the works of others in the best way I can. If I do not understand a post, I check the labels. If those do not help too, I ask the writer. If I do not have the time to read, I go back later. If I do not feel like commenting on a post, I simply do not. Or at least I comment on that part of the post I can relate to. However, some people just twist the whole meaning of a post, most of the time unintentionally, because they just scan through and then rush to comment, thus soiling the beauty of the emotions and vibes of its true substance. If such readers are one end of the spectrum, the other extreme are those who read too much in between the lines and see the whole thing in an entirely different light, and again end up changing the whole meaning of the post. Then there are some who just leave messages without having even bothered to touch upon a single point of the post in concern.

Sigh! Given the above, can you blame me for being a bit nettled right now? Everyone has a different point of view, and a right to express their opinion, which is so valuable. In fact, I wish many a time that someone would review my writing with a critical eye, as I intend to publish my works someday. But I cannot stand people who make a jest of my work with their careless, offhanded, irrelevant comments, even if it is not intentional. If you really read this post, you would know what I am trying to say. If you still do not get it, all I can say is :

Images :

*Girl Writing by hank1
*To Read by esperanzas
*Read Before You Comment by LeoLeonardo

White Flowers

Seems just like yesterday, when they brought you in. I had woken up from a nightmare just then, only to realize it had not been one, but brutal reality. It was the dawn of a new week, but for the two of us, the world had just come to an end. They covered your face, I begged them not to. For me you were still sleeping peacefully like a child. So many rushed to lend a kind shoulder. Such an irony that yours had to be the first I took part in. With every passing moment, I dreaded your departure. I could not bear to watch as you were prepared for the last journey. Even then, there was a flicker of hope that you would awake and prove them all wrong. You were so pristine and pure, in your simple white shroud. That moment had arrived to bid a final goodbye. I begged for one last look at your face, one last kiss on your forehead. Amidst tears, he told me to be strong and follow the guidelines you had inculcated in me. As they carried you away, they took away a part of me, a part that can never be restored.

Life has changed drastically since then. Nine years have elapsed since yesterday, I do not know how. These pangs have become a part of me. So much I have to share, so much to tell, so much to ask. Let me lay my head in your lap once more, let me cry on your shoulder. Many a confession I have to make, many a story to narrate. He has always tried to fill your place in the best way he can, but who will fill your place in his life? Though he is the best one can have, I wish you were there, because sometimes it takes a woman to know. The transition from girl to womanhood was so hard, without you there to show me the way at the turning points. Life has taken its toll on both of us, it is a half-life that we live. Still, life is beautiful, because you made me view it so, teaching me to fight till the very last breath. Wherever you are, I know you are watching over me. One day we will meet again, in paradise. And that day I shall be whole once more, at peace like the white flowers on your grave.

Just So You Know

You mean the world to me. You are not better than the rest, but the best, my greater half without whom I am incomplete. With you, I can be myself, devoid of all inhibitions. When you smile, the radiance lights up my face. When I hurt you, I hurt myself even more. Your silence is a punishment worse than a thousand whiplashes. Your every gesture I have treasured in the chest of life. If I misunderstand you, it is because I fail to understand myself. At times, I make you feel I do not trust you. They are just some streaks from the past, which will disappear eventually. I trust your love to erase them away. No one could ever love me the way you do.

Remember our first walk on that full moon night? You and me arm in arm, totally oblivious to the world. The first time we held hands, the first time we kissed? All those sweet nothings? These are not sheer memories, they are magical treasures which have been preserved for eternity, beautifully wrapped in our love. When I am lost or broken down, I take them out ever so carefully and turn them over, admiring their loveliness. And once the mind is at rest and I have had my fill, I place them back with the gentlest of caresses. No, I do not wish for those moments to come back. Because I know the times ahead will be as, if not even more, beautiful.

We always contend as to whose love is greater, yours or mine. Though I insist it is me, deep down I know who the winner is. And that is one contest I am ready to lose, time and again. Though you are not by my side, it never seems that way. How do I know even before looking at the phone that it is your call or message? Why do I feel so null when you are gloomy? Why does my heart thump like mad when you are in peril? I never believed in soulmates till you came along. Wherever I go, whatever I do, you are in the back of my mind, the eye of my heart. In realms of subconsciousness during those final moments before awaking and sleeping, my first and last thoughts are always of you.

I am thankful to Him for sending you into my life. You are my angel, the light which guided me when I was astray. Just be with me as you have always been, through this life and beyond. I love you. Words would run dry if I have to describe how much.I will not apologize for the times I have hurt you, intentionally or otherwise. Because love is never having to say you are sorry. Why do I love you? I do not know. There is no reason to love you, no reason is called for. There is no perfect moment to love nor a perfect love. All we have is this lifetime and everything we have is each other.

Fate entwined us and so we shall remain, even after...

Sometimes

Sometimes, everything goes null and life seems a chasm. What seemed gold at first turns into tinsel on touch. There grows a gaping void within, threatening to engulf the self in its wile clutches. Such moments are shards of glass, embedding themselves into the soul, stubbornly refusing to budge when healing scalpels try to dislodge them. Tears stream, leaving scarlet trails. Not a hand to wipe them, none to stem their flow.

Shattered are dreams, sliced by merciless knives of time. Tattered are the hopes, those threads which could not bear the burden any longer. Is this what it all had to come down to? Is this what had been envisioned? The spirit has gone into a coma, can it ever be re-kindled? Even if it comes back to life, will the flame burn as bright as before? Questions are many, slithering hither and thither, seeking a solution. Sometimes it is better they go unanswered, for sanity's sake. Sometimes, life just hits you hard.

What do you do then? What do you do?

P.S. It's just a vignette, please do not relate it to me. Do answer the question.

*Image Breathe Today by TheChild13

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NOTIFICATION

These are two ongoing contests in Bloggerville :

*The Clarity Of Night "Running Wind" Short Fiction Contest*

*The Bloggeratti Poetry Contest*

A Tenth Thoughtful Thought

Alone we come into this world and alone we go
Neither the entrance nor the exit in our hands
But the path that we tread upon is our entity
Whether we choose to trudge along or dance