Walking on a rainbow
Catching all the stars
Moon flirts with my wavy hair
Sun shines on my rosy lips
Life never looked so beautiful
The world never looked so bright
I am happy
I am merry
I am positive
I am high
I am high on love
I am high on life
I am so very high on you
The time gotta stand still
The moment needs to be immortalized
Entry for sure is pretty late
But the presence will last till the end
Captured the moment
Trapped the time
Stay with me forever
Till death do us part
High On Love
Best sites for free blogging
Digital marketing and online free blogging has turned out to be exponentially more essential in a time of social networking and systems administration. The online blast has produced more than 200 million blogs around the world. The best blogging stages – WordPress, and Tumblr and Blogger – every rank in the main 50 most went to sites.
Blogging is a standout amongst the best courses for substantial and little organizations to produce new leads that change over into deals and income. There are incalculable examples of overcoming adversity of business people and organizations transforming their thoughts into multimillion dollar endeavors by means of blogging, in spite of the fact that there are different purposes behind beginning a blog.
The best part is that anybody can begin a blog for nothing. There are many free blogging destinations, however not all stages are made equivalent and some offer better open doors for development, introduction, and adaptation. While self-facilitated blogs require a one of a kind area and facilitating organization, they do offer enormous focal points over even the best free blog locales.
Steps to choose the best free blogging site
The following is an exploration of the top free blogging platforms, points of interest, and why they’re the best free blogging destinations. To be complete, we inspected Blogger, WordPress, Tumblr, Weebly, Wix and Squarespace individually.
How hot is WordPress? All things considered, 1 in 6 sites on the planet keep running on it, making it the most well known Blogging stage. Notwithstanding being an awesome free distributed apparatus and web index well disposed Content Management System (CMS), WordPress works for everybody from novice Bloggers to extensive scale organizations fundamentally on the grounds that it offers an immeasurable exhibit of paid and free custom subjects and modules. This makes WordPress exceptionally adaptable, versatile, easy to use, and web crawler enhanced. As I would see it, WordPress is the best Blogging programming accessible.
As a client, you have the choice of building a blog at WordPress.com (not suggested) or making a self-facilitated WordPress blog all alone server and area utilizing WordPress.org (profoundly prescribed).
One of the main blogging platforms, blogger was in the past known as BlogSpot. This Google-claimed administration is most mainstream among easygoing bloggers who compose or share online for no particular reason. Blogger is best-known for its moment setup and simple to-use framework.
Tumblr is known for casual miniaturized scale Blogging, a type of Blogging that is longer than a Tweet however not as long or expert as an all out article or post. Tumblr clients offer substance that is for the most part visual: pictures, recordings, joins, and/or infographics. A Tumblr record is perfect for first-time clients hoping to begin posting in a flash, yet not focus on a full-time venture.
Best blogging site
At last, when looking at WordPress versus Tumblr versus Blogger, WordPress’ product gives the best esteem. There are numerous reasons a lion’s share of Bloggers begin a Blog with WP – it offers the best blend of elements, configuration, adaptability, force, and ease of use. Blogger and Tumblr are anything but difficult to utilize, however they do not have the elements and customization decisions of WordPress.
The Dusk Path
He removed the last brick. A thin stray light peeped through the hole, dispersing into the pitch black darkness of the cell. David crawled out, one leg at a time and then his head. He opened his eyes and breathed her name, ‘Narayani’.
The words escaped his lips like some mantra, chanted into the fire, carrying the life away by the winds, in a smokey swirl to the skies.
The words escaped his lips like some mantra, chanted into the fire, carrying the life away by the winds, in a smokey swirl to the skies. Narayani was the mother of his only child, his childhood love. He looked at his shabby clothes and smelled his armpits. He definitely needed a bath. He had been tortured and beaten for days. Fifteen years back the judge had sentenced his imprisonment for 20 years. He was already forty-five years old. He would completely rot in prison for the next five years and he knew he had to escape. Narayani had stopped visiting him since five years and he thought these twenty years would pass quickly but two decades is a long time. Too long for him to bear. Beaten up day and night by the convicts, he thought he could bear it somehow…but then Narayani stopped visiting him. He missed her. She never brought his daughter. David did not ask for her to come ever, he did not want his daughter to see him at this sorry state.
He wondered what happened to Narayani. He was walking free, stealing through narrow passages and smiling. He had dived deep into his thoughts and lost track where he was headed. He was completely clueless and the streets looked so different. It seemed like he was treading on an island, filled with creatures he hardly recognized. the only image that cropped up was that of Narayani. She had big eyes and even bigger eyelashes and she was extremely docile. That has what attracted him to her most. She was very economical in the usage of words but every time she spoke, David was charmed. David wondered how would their son look like. He wished his daughter looked like Narayani more than himself.
He looked up at the sky, the sun was still shining bright and he had still not found her. He wondered whether the news of his escape had reached the others yet.He stopped at a local tea stall. A small girl came to take his order. David immediately recognised her as his daughter. She ran into the stall and asked for orders. Like a little bird, she was pure and full of life. David felt like running to her and telling her who he was. He worked up a plan in his head of how he would surprise his family. He fished his hands into his pocket for coins while she held out the glass of tea to David. Just then someone called her and she turned around and answered, “Yes father, I am coming.”
The glass of tea fell from his hands and shattered into a million pieces.
The glass of tea fell from his hands and shattered into a million pieces. Some of the tea fell on her dress and some of it on David’s shoes. She looked up at David with terrified eyes and said, ” I’m going to get you another glass of tea, please wait.” She ran into the stall. David walked close to the stall and peeped inside. Narayani was sitting on a tool with the teapot on fire and her hand resting on her pregnant belly. The man whom the girl addressed as ‘her father’ asked her about the orders and then she took over the work of her mother. The man patted her head and kissed her hands and then escorted Narayani outside the stall. Narayani washed her face as he poured water from the pitcher. Tears fell from David’s eyes as he watched someone else take care of his lover and child. His dreams were over. The coins fell from his hands on the ground. He looked up at the birds.
The sky was crowded with birds making towards their homeward journey. He turned around and started running. He did not want his tears to catch up to his speed. It was time for him to go back where he belonged. People whom he loved most had moved on without him while he was stuck to his miseries. Dusk was nearing, the air was cooler than before. He climbed over the walls and barbed wires and ran towards his hole. The last drop of water trickled down his eyes and he rubbed it with his bare hands and breathed the name of Narayani one last time. Then he removed the brick and disappeared into his haven forever.
How to overcome Stage fear
Be it school classroom, a collage function or an important presentation in office one of the major fears that anyone has here is fear of public speaking. You might be a very eloquent and fluent in normal circumstances but when you are put on stage you can be reduced to a bumbling mess. Most people, however, talented and knowledgeable , they avoid any kind of display of their talents for this reason. It is not just for public speaking but also, any sort of performance be it music or acting. The fear is doubled or even tripled if you have ever failed to perform well once on stage. This is one of the most frightening and humiliating experiences of one’s life and can leave a longstanding scar. However, there are simple and easy tips to overcome stage fear. If you follow them you can overcome your fear and show your talents to the world.
Practice before a mirror and friends and family
As they say, practice makes a man perfect. First, try practicing in front of the mirror. Then slowly practice in front of people you are comfortable with. You can even invite your neighbors for a special show at your home. Remember the more people you practice in front of the better you will feel on stage.
Prepare on a subject you are confident about
This is, of course, the key point. Always try to give a performance in a topic you are confident about. If you are singing try to pick a song that you are most familiar with. It makes things so much easier.
Be confident in your performance
Get rid of your doubts and don’t imagine things that frighten you. Try to concentrate on staying positive and confident before the performance. It is vital that you get rid of all the negative thoughts and feeling about your performance.
Do some mild exercises before your performances
Try to do some breathing exercises before you go up on stage. Also, stretch a little bit as it is known to relieve the stress and anxiety a little.
Imagine the audience as your family
Once you get on stage try to imagine the audience as someone you are really comfortable with like your friends and family.
Move on stage
During your performance if you are talking try to move on stage rather than staying in the same position also try moving your arms a little. If you are sitting down for a singing performance then gesticulate as much as you can.
Close your eyes if you are stuck
If you are stuck at a point just close your eyes for a moment and concentrate. If you are still unable to get it skip that line it is important not to get fixated on one point that you are unable to recover.
If you fail it does not matter
If you fail once on stage it does not matter. Know that it is not the end of the world and you will be able to do better next time with more experience. Do not take it too much to heart and develop a constant fear in life. Once failed does not mean always failed.
I STILL REMEMBER
When the first time my heart did love. It felt like heaven on this earth.
I still remember how my eyes used to rebel with my brain and rested on its favorite face.
His curly hairs, the square of his chin, his faint line of beard upon his upper lips and more than all his golden glance used to lure me to be soaked into him.
I still remember The way he held my hands and sent electricity down my spine. I knew it was him, and noone else, on whose shoulder I would glady lay my head and let him claim his rights over me.
I still remember, his soccer ball, and his tee shirt that smelled of sweat and playground mud, when in his embrace I stood like a princess and he were my prince and that was our kingdom of love.
I still remember our dance at ball. Your favourite color, black I wore. You kept your hands upon my waist and mine stayed on your chest. You stared hard into my eyes and I didn’t know where to hide.
I still remember Your new bag, it looked so bad. You argued at it being nice but I had not had to watch it twice.
I still remember your haircut. I liked you with your woolen curls.
And they remained the way I liked. The way I wished them to be right.
I still remember your first shave. I rode to your home to see you without them.
You hid your face in the towel.
And I did laugh till I fell in the bed.
I still remember my sweater in your arms, my clutch in you hands, My eyes into yours, and the love in my heart.
I loved you then and I love you now.
I would break into million pieces and you would feel me, like the falling snow
Because I still remember that I were once in love with you.
Asthma spreading roots to Infertility
Asthma is a chronic respiratory disorder when the airways leading to the lungs get inflamed. As the hormones change, Pre-pubertal girls often suffer from severe asthma attacks and this condition aggravates with age . This is apparent during menopause as it is seen that the ratio of women to men suffering from asthma is two to one. Women are exposed to potential sources of asthma-like- biomass fuels (household chulhas and Ovens), smoking( both passive and active), alcohol consumption and other environmental factors. The hormone level fluctuates during menstrual periods.
According to researchers, 27 percent of women suffering from asthma were also likely to face difficulties getting pregnant. There is an increased risk of becoming infertile with a lack of treatment and as treatment gets delayed.
The negative effect of asthma on infertility is reduced by treatment, it is assumed that the systemic inflammation exhibited by the asthmatic patients may be the precipitating factor for delaying fertility, according to Dr. Gade. However overall results suggest that women suffering from asthma had the ability to conceive the same number of children, as they tend to conceive at an earlier age compared to others thus not facing much of a barrier to pregnancy.
According to the World Health Organization, asthma is a respiratory disease characterised by chronic inflammation of air passages leading to and from the lungs. Currently, an approximate of 235 million people are suffering from asthma and it is considered the most common chronic disease in children. Asthma attacks, affect children and adults with bouts of breathlessness and spasms caused by inflammation in the airways and lungs.
Health care professionals are of the opinion that inflammation of the airways caused by asthma has widespread effects in other parts of the body, not only to the parts related to the respiratory circuit. Women who received medication for asthma, usually anti-inflammatory medication, were less likely to become infertile.
This explains that the inflammatory part of asthma may be affecting the fallopian tube and not just the bronchial tubes.
Unknown story From Bengal Partition
Winding round the the grey shawl I sit by the window and look through the glass pane into the cloudless sky. The blue of which still reminds me of those days when I had got something to cling to.. It was better than what it had been since years or even what It is like now. I used to sit by the quiver of the mango leaves, under the golden sunrays that filtered down, through the leaves and inspired me to carve delicacies out of words. having weaved a garland out of verses, I would chant them out to her while she would fling stones at the branches in want of a fruit. Sometimes mangoes and at some she would develop a taste for guavas. She would make a heap of them in the bag out of the round of her frock and would walk towards me. I would share my verses and she would share her stolen fruits. And we would spend our evening hours like this.
Since when I was married to the zamindar’s daughter, I had not had to do anything for a living. I had a big mansion to live in with my in laws. I was allowed to visit my parents once in a month and that too for 4 days. Because my wife wasn’t comfortable with my staying away for long.
She was dark and she thought I could lose my affections in her upon seeing another of a beautiful lady. She was fearful of losing what she never had. My affections. Not because of her insecurities, but because of her inability to watch my wishes over hers own. On the time of marrying her I had taken her as a financial security, and she took me as an educated husband whom she could flaunt in the society. But what seemed perfect then is nothing now. maybe money is not all we want.
And what I wanted I got when Manu was born. My brother-in- law’s daughter, Manu. When her little fingers would encircle my thumb I couldn’t shake her hands off me. I had made a swing out of my wife’s sari on the mango tree in the garden and let her sleep in the cold breeze. And her mother would be happy as she could do all her other works. I would read silently I would write and fleet the afternoon hours carelessly by her side. And since then we had a habit of spending hours together.
She would ask me the meaning of what I wrote, biting unripe mangoes and I would try to make her understand and she would gape at me and listen carefully and when I would be done she would make false stories and make me listen to her. sometimes she would be all ears and at some she would just cut me in the middle pick a word she found funny and laugh at it till she had no breath left within her. She would insist upon playing games with her and I would teach her new ones which she could play. her mother would tear her lungs out calling out for Manu but she would not listen. “You must go Manu! Your mother is calling you” I used to say. “kaku, I wouldn’t leave you here and go” she would say and she wouldn’t leave until her mother comes with a neem stick to beat her up. Seeing her mother, Manu would give her tiny hands in my palms and hide behind me holding me by my knees. And out of fear she would cry at the top of her voice. She was too small, just seven then.
She did nothing and yet she erased all the creases upon my heart. I was very fond of her, and I was her favourite kaku too. She was My little companion.
But who stays happy forever? Blissful days are always numbered. Everything changed when Bengal was devided into east and west. Everyday more people were killed and blood flowed in rivers. Hindus were killed by muslims and hindus avenged murders on muslims. There was no law noo order. And hindus were forced into west bengal or were killed. Thousands of refugees ran India each day to save there lives, leaving back there homes, properties, a living everything. And we had no option left but to Leave everything behind and fly to India. Our house and property fell in east bengal. And our rights in them was lost in us being hindus. Stones were hurled at our windows and neither of us were allowed to leave the mansion. Things turned worse when our property was seized and my brother in law was beaten up fiercely when he spoke up for himself. We decided upon leaving Bangladesh. We took everything that was possible with us. A earthen pot of water, my old pocket watch, our family portrait, a little money we had and a few clothes. I held Manu’s hand tightly and kept a tin trunk over my head. I held the tin trunk with another hand and hers with another. All of us fought our way through dead bodies, through veiled people who had swords in their hands and were tearing flesh as if they wanted to bath in blood. I watched people trying to escape and get them killed. I fumbled my way. And when I looked back I couldn’t see anybody of my family behind. Neither my wife. All I had was Manu crying after me. I dropped the trunk down on the ground and lifted her up. I began to advance towards the border patting her cheeks dry. “Rataan!” I heard my wife’s cry. I turned around and watched her. A veiled man held her by her hairs and lifted his sword and forced it through her navel. She shreiked soo loud and then taking the sword out he threw her on the ground. I saw her die in front of my eyes and she never let her gaze lose upon me. I wanted to run to her but the crowd pushed me further towards the border. The ones who still had their lives and were desperate to save them. I had to save a life too. I looked at Manu and began to walk ahead. Beyond that line I knew all would be fine. And just as I was about to cross. She began to losen my embrace. “My mother!” She said and began to cry. I did not leave her. And tried telling her that her mother would be on the other side. But she kept crying. I watch for the other family members. But I saw nobody around. My pants were wet due to the river water. And it was clinging to my legs with weights making it more difficult for me to walk. I was puushed soo badly that I fell down, in the river water. And Manu slipped off my arms. I searched for her in the water but she was nowhere around. I went back for her but It was useless, Because everytime I tried I was pushed further towards the borders. I could not leave her there alone. She was my responsibility. I ran back pushing through people and then I saw her. Lying by the river being kicked by people. Her head had a wound and she was bleeding. I had to walk against a wave of people To reach to her. I took a step towards her and the next pushed me farther. I watched her being lifted by a man I watched him make a long cut in her stomach with his sharp knife. She shouted out of pain. I tried to run towards her. I was shouting but nothing could reach him. Everyone was crying. Everyone was shouting. And my pain was lost in theirs. He made another big cut through which blood spilled out of her mouth. And then he made another small cut and dropped her in the river. I watched her blood color the waters red. And then he held another refugee. I had nothing to save now. she was killed in front of my eyes and I couldn’t do anything. I left my body free and after that i don’t know what happened.
But I woke up in a hospital in kolkata, in west bengal. And All that was found from my pocket was a small unripe mango.
May flowers
Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.
The road to Araku Valley was difficult. Araku Valley is a Hill station in Visakhapatnam district in the state of Andhra Pradesh in India. We were in the car, window seats taken and vomiting all the way up the windy road. The children of the locality sold black pepper seeds all the way. The car halted on the side of the hilly roads and I got down to freshen myself. It was a beautiful morning which I had marred with the uneventful mess. My husband, Manish held a bottle in one hand and his DSLR in the other with a frown on his face. Photography was already over for the day. Thanks to me. sigh!. We had been bickering all day.
Next morning, we decided to go out for local sightseeing. We heard about the garden of flowers, a major tourist attraction. Padmapuram, as they called it, is one of the most beautiful places on earth. This is a garden which is very well designed with many interesting nooks and corners . Manish was moving very fast, trying to capture the exquisite flowers while I was at his heels, trying to catch up with his speed. I suddenly fell down. It was a very bad fall and tears welled up in my eyes. Manish didn’t even look back. I felt extremely upset. I cursed myself for taking the day off from work. I started crying.
I felt a hand on my right shoulder. I thought it was Manish. But it wasn’t him. It was a man, wearing an apron and carrying a spade in his fist. He lent out his hand and I caught his. His hands were warm. Mine were cold. I looked up at him.
A drop of water drizzled from his forehead to my lips. It was raining.
His eyes were brown and they sparkled. His broad smile forced a stray smile across my lips. Are you a gardener here?, I asked. He simply shrugged. He pulled me under the shade. I wanted to feel the rain. The rain would help me hide my tears. The rain would wash my sorrows away. The rain would cool my heated mind. The rain would accept me for who I am.
It always rains the hardest on the people who deserve the sun. I thought to myself, I don’t need Manish to keep me happy. I need someone who would make me happy. Manish doesn’t care about me anymore. I went on chirping. I looked at my companion. He was clearly interested in me whereas Manish had completely forgotten about me, it seems. We strolled across the garden, some of the most beautiful and exotic flowers at Padmapuram garden caught our attention. What do you call this flower?, I asked him. He pointed to a billboard saying ‘PINK GERBERA’. I looked at him with skeptical eyes, and asked, Can I ask you something? Can you speak?. He clearly couldn’t. I realized that while I was ramping about my problems to him, only he did was a nod and reciprocate in gestures. I had been ignorant of my companion and my problems seemed massive with respect to his. Maybe this was the problem in our relationship, we became so engrossed with ourselves, we forgot to check what was wrong with the other. I should go, find Manish, I told him. I love him. He nodded.
Manish was sitting on a rock, looking over his camera. He pursed his lips together. I was feeling guilty. I am sorry, I said. He looked at me, You must be sorry, sorry for looking so beautiful! And we burst out laughing. The garden of flowers seemed to look brighter and more colorful than ever. Manish was wearing a black shirt and he looked handsome and fresh, fresh from the showers. Why haven’t I noticed this earlier?.
I was so wrapt up in my issues that I forgot to look at him. The man in the valley taught me a lesson for life. His silence spoke to me when words failed to make me realize how much I needed a little rain in my life. The April brings the winds of change and washes away the heat of the summers to bring about full bloom in MAY flowers.
Some people feel the rain, while others only get wet
The Barbie and the Beast
Greya had many dolls. Her favourite doll was a barbie, called Anna.
Anna smelled of strawberries and she was perfect. Waves of golden hair flowed down her back.
She could be Rapunzel, as far as she was concerned, she did live in a house, kept hidden from the rest of the world.
Greya did not let anybody else touch her, lest she would lose her strawberry smell. Lest she would no more be special as I thought her to be.
She was a doe-eyed beauty and she never needed any makeup, unlike the other Barbies. She was special and she knew it.
However, she did not laugh.
With beauty comes great responsibilities. Maybe she took this responsibility too seriously.
Anna was kept boxed up, shielding her from dirt and dust and spider cobwebs. Greya took great care of her sparkle gowns and shoes.
Greya always took the time to give her a wash, keeping her clean and beautiful, brushing her silky locks.
Greya was a shy kid and she was very possessive about her dolls, especially Anna. Anna was the last gift that she got from her mother. Her mother had left her in the custody of her father and she greatly missed her mother. There was nothing in the world that could replace her mother’s role in her life and the barbie was a symbolic representation of her mother.
Her mother was perfect. She was blond and beautiful and she smelled of strawberries.
Anna was lonely, and she needed a friend. Greya had isolated her from the rest and she desperately needed an outlet.
So, one day when Greya was busy washing her clothes, she slid under the bathtub, hoping to escape. But hell broke loose at Greya’s place.
Greya upset the cupboards, tore away her hair, burned the mattresses but Anna was not found.
Days went by, months crossed. It was Fall. Greya moved to another part of the town and the house was rented to another family.
The new family had no girls, Anna was relieved. She could finally come out of her hiding and breathe.
She stretched her arms out and to her surprise something sharp caught her hands and dragged her out. It was a dog. A small little pug that was the heart of the new family, in the house.
The dog carried Anna in its jaws and threw the salivated barbie onto the red carpet. The family gasped a sign of disgust and the boy showed no interest in the ‘once beautiful’ Anna. Anna was covered in dirt and grime and her beautiful silky hair was messed up. Anna was no more special.
She was good enough to be the dog’s toy. The pug mouthed the barbie in its jaws again and carried it into the garden. It dug a small hole in the soil and buried Anna into the pit as the family watched on with adoring eyes for their dog.
THE UNTOLD FEELINGS – THAT NEVER DIED
Their eyes first met in the class
He was sitting before her she remembers
She rapidly fell for him when he took a glance
She never knew when he took away the heart of her
Slowly they became friends
Feeding each other during breaks
After that they had a gang
Those four people could do what other people cant
This time she got to know her best friend loves him
So she started feeling guilty and tried to stop the feeling
He became some hero and was famous
Some people were fond of him and some jealous
She was always there standing at the back to help him
It used to hurt her a lot as she remained the same but he was changing
He got other friends and left her
The untold words were never again told
Every time she tried to touch him he would get away far
But the feeling in her stayed and became old
One day he got his love and introduced her
She instantly put on a fake smile and told “you guys are made for each other”
He gave that happy smile to her once again
From that time she knew that was the end
The feeling stayed for days and years
Whenever she saw them happy she would break down into tears
She always waited and waited
Because for her love doesn’t means revenge
And he became happy with his love forever
But she was never able to forget him as she had a heart which was pure and clear
