Picturesque Scenery

Picturesque Scenery.

Far from the noisy and crowded cities,

my heart finds solace in the lap of mother nature.

Everything over here is so calm and ready to accept you,

no specific status is required, no formalities, no affiliations,

It only requires you to either join in the eternal sway or be a mute spectator,

Choice is yours.

Sans evolution,sans mechanisation, sans progression,

Everything here is just original.

No sophistication and no unsophistication

Everything is at standstill for years to come,

Escaping from the maze of life,

a living soul gets warmth and pleasure in the midst of nature.

Picturesque Scenery welcomes us but calculations rob the pleasure,

Computation lingers in our thoughts,

They intrude and meddle our peace of mind

Reminding us, it's time to go back to the hustle and bustle of the city.

Comments

The Pristein Ring Master : A circus called the world

A poetic reflection on leadership, chaos and hope. The Pristein Ring Master People gathered to witness the world’s oldest circus. At first, performers like fire breathers and jugglers brought delight, Aerialists — trapeze artists and acrobats — amazed the little ones with their flights. But soon, the strongman gave a stern look to the tightrope walker . The magician tried to douse the fire breather’s flame. The clowns — once beloved — entered the ring, And played the worst trumpet known to fame. Their friendly tussle turned too real, Peace, to them, was an unfunny deal. As with world leaders who, too, reject stillness, Addicted to noise, chaos, and the ringing of cash registers. Amid the uproar, the absence of the Ring Master was deeply felt. A cry rose from the crowd — where was he? Behind the dark curtains, a shadow stirred, And from it emerged the Ring Master, finally. With a whip crack and silent grace, Even the furious clowns froze in place. Normalcy returned, laughter r...

The Gini and Me

The Gini and Me I once opened a bottle and a gini came out. The stories I believed as a child melted quietly in my youth— never real, yet never forgotten. As I slided toward maturity, AI gripped the world around me. I want to bottle AI. Remove it, use it, pack it again and again— like a tool, not a tether. Let me feel the wind with skin, not sensors. Let me fail, foolishly, and laugh with no algorithm watching. Let me look as I am— with no filters. Let me be a human— with a brain and a beating, perseverance spider.

Essence of life

A contemplative poem on life journey. Essence of life lies in moving on — from stages of attachment to detachment , desires to nothingness , compulsion to repulsion , selfishness to generosity , darkness to enlightenment , fakeness to authenticity , certainty to uncertainty , vocal to silence — and sometimes, just being an observer and not being judgemental.

Candid

Search This Blog