Rain

This wonder is only rain.

Sliding down the window pane,

Doing a tap dance on the roof top,

Mischievously glistening as they drop.

Crystal droplets racing down,

Dispersing as they touch the ground.

With their ephemeral reality,

They give life and luminosity

For some they are as grey as gloom,

But I think they bring flowers to bloom.

Young vulnerable trees to nourish,

And flimsy dull grass to flourish.

For in the earth they’ll soon blend,

Nourishing nature, when they end.
You’ll see the magic they’ve done,

While having so much nautical fun.

For when the sky is a cloudless sight

And the sun is shimmering merrily and bright.

You’ll see the visible radiance,

They have utter brilliance.

As dazzling as a star that joyfully gleams,

Rain is something more than it seems.

Rain is life, harmony and sacrifice.

Rain is hope, worth no price.

Cobra

Malevolent, this creature maybe,

But it is elegant as far as I can see.

A supple body uncoils like a breeze that blows,

With curves and bends like a river that flows.

His movement is like passionate poetry,

Every inch of it is nothing but symmetry.

His open hood is what is special about him.

He is stretched, sleek, slender and slim.

Ravenous he’s been for many days,

But still with hope he tolerantly stays.

When suddenly his prey comes around,

His head quickly lifts off the ground.

Viciousness and revenge on those,

Who even dare or think to impose.

His mouth waters like never before,

Fresh flesh makes his spirits soar.

 With beauty and elegance he does a dance,

Holding the victim in his hypnotic trance.

He digs in its razor-sharp venomous fangs,

Now his prey, dead, loosely hangs.

So be vigilant and alert and cautious and aware.

Don’t provoke it either or it’ll bite you, I swear.

The Spring

The spring was nothing short of paradise. The water was clearer than glass with a hint of turquoise blue, it was more beautiful than you could ever imagine.  It was like a painting only much better. With the sun rolling high in the azure sky, it could not have been a better day. Crossing the long bridge, we started the lengthy walk around the scenic spring.  The silver ferns curtsied sublimely. The pines stood, proud, gratified and strong. The lush, emerald green grass gesticulated gently at us to look at it. The whispering wind forced through the squashed trees. All was serene. The only sounds heard in the tranquil surrounding were the shuffling of our feet, our soft breathing, the whisper of the wind, the placid flow of the water and the pleasant chirping of birds.

Under the crystal clear, pure water swift, shiny, silver fish darted amongst the jade coloured weeds which were like elongated snakes motioning lazily, rooted to the smooth, even surface of the water.

Wandering leisurely, we cheerfully admired the attractive scene and breathed the fresh, cool air.

We came to some stairs that led to a small balcony on top of the water. We looked in the water and saw a rough crack in the now rutted and bumpy surface. It was as deep as the depth of five Olympic pools or so it said. It was wonderful. It was a beautiful cerulean blue colour. Several shimmering silver circles could be seen. Coins! They were coins. Why would coins be down there? Then we realised that people had used this like a wishing well. So we made a wish, tossed the coin into the water and daydreamt gleefully about winning Lotto.

Suddenly there was a sound, like a grizzly bear grumbling furiously. It was our stomachs. We were voracious. We quickly headed back, finishing the bush walk, to the car for something to eat. Just thinking about the scrumptious lunch mum had made my mouth water and I couldn’t walk fast enough to get back.

We gobbled up our butter sandwiches, bit into our appetizing roast chicken and drank our warm tea and Milo. We chose a spot nearby the bridge, behind us was the car park where sky-high, giant pine trees towered above . From there we got a perfect view.

After we’d finished, it was late afternoon. There was a sudden drop in the temperature and we decided to call it a day. We took a last gaze at the translucent water and its striking surroundings and headed back home.

I will never forget that beautiful place. It was like heaven on earth.

That Wild Strawberry Bush

It was a bleak backyard of rather a depleted house in an old neighborhood,nothing very bright or radiant around it but there it stood on a stone paved floor with its tiny scarlet fruit, the wild strawberry bush. The small plant somehow managed to get through a crevice on the floor. That little bush of tiny, wild strawberries was the only thing vivid and resplendent in the middle of that ugly backyard of the house in Manchester, where I was staying with some relatives on my trip to England.

With nothing to second it like a beautiful garden or lush green lawn, the tiny bush stood there with a grey Second World War shelter at one end and clothing lines with clothes hanging when it didn’t rain and an out of order cooking range discarded by the lady within.

Nobody seem to notice it but it caught my eyes as one day I stood
there to relieve myself of a mounting depression about an uncertain future and many other reasons. The weather was dark and heavy and with the dull scene in front of me it added to my gloom. I took a sigh and decide to take a walk. It was then it caught my eye and suddenly there was a smile on my face. To me it simply seemed like a poem of Wordsworth springing out of the earth in reality it looked beautiful but most importantly it generated hope.

It made me forget my tensions and I felt as if the entire beauty of this lush green country was distilled in this tiny view, it gave me the satisfaction of a full scenic view. I sat near it watching it intently and taking all the strength and hope it gave me. I plucked a little strawberry and tasted it had a bitter, sharp taste but that was not the reason it held my interest.

It will soon die at the winter’s approach if lucky but sooner it will be trampled by the unruly boy of the house who jumped and thumped everywhere. Nonetheless it was there just then with little red fruit and glossy green leaves looking more from the Lilliputian world of Gulliver’s.

God communicates to us in strange ways and I felt Him showing through that pretty spectacle why I, a human, in much better circumstances can’t survive the trials of my life and so I went inside after gazing a long time at it sated and with a new hope rekindled within.

That tiny plant with it ephemeral existence stabilized my mood and calmed my sense a thing at that particular time the whole beauty of the Highland could not have done and I came back to Pakistan more confident and contented and it was much easier to take decisions after that.
I realized that day,that to learn a great lesson one doesn’t need a miracle or an Armageddon but a very minor thing or event can change your whole perspective.

1. The essence of life

With the death of each moment I live

By strangling each smile I am happy

Life takes more from us than it gives

So take as much from it and be happy

My restless soul will never be sated

How much can I take with me ultimately?

Nor the gems, neither any treasure

Nor any of the earthly pleasure

But in my heart and in my mind

Will remain the precious moments

The touch of my love, my child’s smile

The scent of the junipers and dandelion

The song of the birds, lulu’s laughter

The beauty of mornings till the hereafter.

My first post

I wrote this story in my diary so i am posting it as my first post. Here it goes:

The sparkling dew drops on the scarlet rose were disturbed by the fingers as delicate as its dancing stem and as soft as the velveteen texture of the flower; and were now bedecking the rich, creamy skin like the precious gems embellishing the hands of Queen of Sheeba. But the possessor of this lovely hand with untouched beauty was far more pure and fresh than any Queen for this was Princess Rosaline of Armathia, with eyes filled with the depth of oceans and luscious red lips and long tresses of brown hair - she looked a vision of ones sweetest dreams.

Mornings were her favorite times, free of all the protocol and etiquettes, her hectic royal life as a princess demanded. Clad in white robe, she blended in the beautiful morning view - contributing in enhancing its beauty as part of it rather than a spectator.

Her father's gardens were famous for their variety, flowers specially roses and their scenic beauty.

As a motherless girl, she grew up to be very bold and impulsive with the King's encouragement. Although her wild ways were always checked by Alina, her wet nurse and her guardian who believed in all the restrictions and protocols required to make a true princess.

She grew up in times of uncertainty with threats of war lurking at the border of her father's kingdom. Though nothing marred her sweet countenance and her undaunting spirit......
[to be continued]