Problem is not a problem when it becomes an obstacle

Hey! What do you think is a problem? A problem is Mmm.. a problem. Exactly my point a problem is when you can’t understand it,your head and heart can’t get peace of a solution. It’s a situation simply but we feel it has permanence. One thing to be noted, everything in life is transient, and it is also.its just the illusion made by your fear.

Feel it as an obstacle,just a hurdle you need to jump on. Thinking differently is the key. All the power is in the thought. Thinking in this way it feels it’s not the whole but just a part of it,which will pass. A stone in the way can be removed or not if not you can just let it stay and move on. An obstacle comes with an opportunity to develop. You cross one, you step one level up. Imagine it the more they come, the stronger you become.

If someone’s life is easy going don’t feel depressed. They are at the same place where they were before. No change,No gain. Their life may appear calm and regular, and it is. But not experienced, because they have never been presented with all the gifts of life.(of course it depends on you, whether you take it as a boon or bane).

They are the pebbles far away from the sea, quite and still. But the one who faces the rage of wave is bestowed the chance to see the world in the lap of mother ocean. The result when you cross an obstacle is the deep sense of strength, confidence and braveness. And like this a person becomes A survivor ready to face whatever life has stored.

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Feeling claustrophobic

I want to go to a place where, the bamboos surround me; the fresh innocent breeze,. soothing the soul of me; Whenever I look up I see the sky’s never ending charm, Embracing the whole world within its arm, Not leaving anyone even those who harm, I lie there watching the magnificent with my conscience calm;

I want to go a place,. where I nestle in the green grass; Making the lushy loops tickling me to laugh; Shining in the sun spreading starry eyed sparks, I’m still as it’s part, so no one can tell apart , The green in me or, me in the green grass;

I want to go to a place where,. where motion is defined by trees; Tutoring the knowledge of tackling, the time of Fohn with ease; Soothingly dancing before my eyes, appearing as a Sufi personified; Inspiring the viewers to join the, rhythm of the unceasing fight;

I want tojoin them, But I can’t ,I’m here ! I want to go to a place where…..

THE SOLITARY NIGHT BEGINS…..

PART 1

To beat the summer heat i went to my vacation house, which had been given to me a few months back when my dear uncle Edgar passed out. first it sounded creepy, as who would spend holiday in a cottage in between a forest, believe me that would have been my last choice but sometimes seeing your bank account is much more creepier than this……and this lead me to my last desire.
Well the house was not that bad , with pale carmine walls ,oxford blue woods decorating the roof and the small courtyard in front with british fences and finely shaped bushes(it was little weird maintaining a garden in the mid of forest). i had decided to invite my friends but noone reached by that time. i entered the place , i knew it would be dusty but not this much, it appeared to be abandoned for years.

First blog post

The simple thing why I started this? Nothing big but its magnificent in its self. Other than completing your daily timetable, where everything is perfectly bound or you are working day-night to make it settle (as everybody prefers, naturally). The beauty of the perfectness fades away as at some sort of time you feel this perfectness like boundaries enclosing you. that’s when you need a world with no boundary, no restriction, just you and your thoughts, and writing is the ladder to it, you are in the world with everyone but have an extraordinary choice too,and its always with you. It gives you the immense joy of being you, when you are already you but not you!(well its my definition of writing, actually there is no such definition, its just what you feel and want it to be.) . It gives you wings to fly in the galaxy of imagination (maybe out of milky way too!) .While writing its only my thoughts, my experiences and my reviews ,no one tells me what to write and how to? it beseech your conscience to waive the treasures of life. The basic ideal of writing, its purely yours.