Rural Dreams

....................................................................Rural Dreams...................................................................

A poor mistress, in her everydayness, 

whose hands shivers with the cold while lighting the fire to cook her meal, 

takes the first step to wake up an hour earlier these days.

Barefoot though, She aims to learn. 
A pen and a paper, with a torch in her hand,
she aims to see what is there?? on the otherside of the darkness.

How beautiful it looks, when all the other women of the village, are inspired to follow her.

An hour early, the whole world of poverty will wake up.
And light their torches, to earse this darkness.

#I_have_a_dream.
In future, I want to be the sponser of that one women, if you are ready to wake up; an hour early.
#women_for_change.

Loutlim Waterfalls // GOA // Natural Beauty // Asugraphy // Hike

Pleasent Troubler // Asugraphy // GOA

sHE FOUGHT FOR THREE MINUTES

  sHE Fought For Three Minutes

A morning sun and it’s morning emissions woke me up for the very first time. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t move; but I can feel. “you became seven months older”, they say. I can speak and my mother can listen to that. 

My room has been bedecking since a long time with clothes and toys of little baby Boy. I guess, I will get a friend soon.

Typical though, my family is loving more to my mom during her gravidity days. My village is superstitious- males were large in number. 

My Grandfather is a teacher: grandmother was her wife. 

It’s a rural village. Sick house was there. They took me and my mother to the sick house, again. They took hours to examine my mother, today. she weeps; we wept. They were troubling her, and the examination ended.

There held a tall talk between my Father and doctor. We reached home. We were unfamiliar about what has actually happened. Mother was sent to the room and then family discussion began.

We slept. Next morning, everything and everyone has changed. They were cursing my mother, with the anonymous reasons. 

i was seven months and a day, old.

  Time was running. Next day, we were again taken to the same sick house. Father handled a bundle of money to the medic. We were again taken into a room and they started afflicting us, again.

my mother loses consciousness. They comely touched her belly, and then started troubling me. They pushed me, they slapped me, they hit me. she was senseless, still her tears rolled off those closed eyes. 

I didn’t give up my strength. I fought for Three worst minutes of my life.

And then I sleep. Tired.

I was seven month and two days older. 

Hours passed, mom woke up. she called the nurse, “How is my Son, how is he now? Please! let me see him”.

Nurse: by the will of your family; she is no more.

                                ----ASHUTOSH BHATTARAI. 

Forever Young

                   Forever young

Hustle and bustle all over
Sun was trying to sail out in the sea,
with a dimpled cheeks, eyes romantic, a sober
in his early teens, was launching his paper planes to her balcony.

curtains unveil, opens her door
to shower herself over that poor,
None of the droplets of rain was hearken
but his heart was wet.

Both of them, with sparkling smiles
locked their eyes to communicate with each,

still today when her grandchild asks,
"who was he?"

Shows a flower wrapped handsome,
hung in the wall.
and replies, " he was the one, I love".

Street Nights Of a beggar.

Street Nights

Some score years ago, in a footpath lane,
I was reading a visual story, full of pain.
Wind used to put a thin towel over his filthy body,
Left leg shivering,dirty,
fighting and quarreling with the right one
To get inside the towel.

Right hand outside,tight,
Over my hip,
singing a bedtime rhyme to me, in the night.

It wasn't working; sun is still floating in the sea,
Waited to let the moon glow out to shine his glass, for his will.
so he can stagger in his dream with an empty stomach and a voracious mind.

And a groan, moments later,
groan describing all his day,
And a dream speech with some pick-up lines,
praising all the beautiful women of his time,
And a smile, and a smile.
Hours followed to open his eyes before the sun wake up breaking the dawn,
Before the moon close it's eyes.

He wore a coat through the throat
Off the glass for a warm night, thereby,
And lit a candle to die as quick
to let me smell darkness in a warmth.

The very first streetwalker and his unnoticed kick
be the morning alarm to that weak,
signifying,
street is to walk not to slumber.

#untold_impacts_on_beggars_life.
#portion_of_my_new_drama_drama_on_its_way...

Self Quotes,

Most fragrantica poison, Room photography.

THIRST

       Thirst

Yeah! everyone is thirsty,
some thirst of food,
some of expensive good,
some of paper- so called money,
and work hard even if it turns rainy or sunny,

But the thirst gets fulfilled,
when the greediness is killed,
killed from mind and killed from soul,
only when you donate your diamond to live in coals,

Thirst here goes ups and down,
in a noise, in a mourn,
But it reaches to the stop,
when u fill other's thirst,
thirst of the thirstier,
your thirst will never rise up.
-help to get help

Spectacles photography

Lenses of my vision. It signifies; I can only explain a bit less about the beautiness of this world than the healthy eye does. :0