It’s a cosmic law
That struggle leads to reward…
Struggle out of bed (On a Sunday morn 🙁)
The creator and his creation taking shape painstakingly, lovingly, one gentle nudge at a time….
When an artist invites you to watch him sculpt, it is an honour. The eyes move from the sunburnt face and hands onto the perfection that is being sculpted out of a block of wood. No gap remains between the two. It is as unique and beautiful as any process of birthing can be…
The finished sculpture, polished and shining adorns temples and prayer rooms of homes that the sculptor might never visit… Yet through his art he has infused the intangible into the tangible…
#art #creativity #sculpture #sculptor #wood #beauty #artist #surajkundmela #InredibleIndia #unsung #unknown
Today, when I get home
And open my door
It will be with a smile
I shall pause at the threshold
Take a deep breath
And step in
I shall take nothing
Today, when I go home
I shall do so with a smile
Because I have a
Roof over my head
And a song
In my heart
The tune of which
Only I know
So, I will sing my song
Sometimes in my heart
Sometimes deep into my soul
I have a song to sing….
Crossed this little tent during my morning walk.. Someone inside was singing a tuneless song, there was a small gas already lit and tea was being made… It brought a spring to my step… This resilience, this makeshift, colorful abode which housed a singing soul …
Downpour? Necessary Chaos? Avoidable
Monsoon season won’t last… As the clouds do their job and the Government fails to do, we realize we are made of sterner stuff.
Through flooded potholes and roads and jams we still make our soaking selves home to tell our shocking tales to stunned neighbors and family. Heck, we still have ‘Sawan Ka Maheena, Pawan Kare Sooooor’ playing sometimes, on repeat, as we delve into our options of how to get home, on a road crammed with sputtering and coughing cars.
As the clouds recede, their magic will linger along with the foreboding they bring of a collapsing infrastructure.
As we open all the doors of our car, everyday, in the hopes of getting the carpeting to dry and the smell to evaporate, we keep one eye on the Met Department predictions, the other on the sky.
With a prayer on our lips and a song in our heart we step into another working day, patting our bag to make sure that the ineffectual umbrella is still there. We give a parting glance to the safe haven we are leaving behind and bid adieu to colorful ‘juttis’ struggling to dry into a wearable shape, on the balcony.
Yes, it takes more than this to break our spirit….
Because we are made of sterner stuff… 😊
The Balloon seller is a master businessman, as he prances between cars to sell his wares. He tactfully teases the little occupants till they start begging their parents for one. All this within the span of half an minute!
Deal done, money pocketed and off he runs, to the next red light.
A day on the roads for a little boy…
The streets and roads are an unforgiving place when the monsoons hit… Flooding and jams are rampant.
Somehow, the street children find joy in that too. They run from car to car, drenched to the bone, trying to sell colourful polka-dotted balloons, their mischievous grins in place 🙂
They teach me more abour life and adversity and coping than any book can…
living life in conscious reality
A collection of stories from different journeys.
Alabama Lifestyle Blog
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Bold move forward!