The nights are long and the days are short . The weather is naughty and the winds are strong ,waiting for the rains to stop . And the winter to rock.
blaming is an important aspect of human life. without blaming people won’t be able to save themselves from lies. blaming each other is inherent in this human race. without it, they will not be able to survive as they have played the blame game every day, and one day without it and they are finished. hindering somebody’s else peaceful life is natural to the blamer. people in this world like to blame others, but one thing they will always lose is to discover who they truly are. realizing your mistakes and working for it was never in this human mankind. a message to all the blamer- ” you are not a failure until you start blaming others for your mistakes.”
Bless all those martyred soldiers who have sacrificed their life for their country. Every soldier after blood, sweat and tears always tries to protect its country so that we all can live a peaceful live. A little contribution from our side can be to pray to god to give them support and the power to fight. May the family of the soldiers always live in peace and prosperity.
The love of a mother can never stop even if the mother wants to stop. The blessing that she gives are always priceless , the better she are always taken. No one can love anyone like a mother. From the day we were born to the day where we are, she has served us and helped us to be a better human being. God created mother because the god cannot be present everywhere at the same time. For me, my mother is like a big tree who protects her child in her shade of love.
With all of my force and energy I screamed at the top of my voice for help, but the humongous arrogant mountains just reflected back my voice. All my efforts went into vain. I was feeling very frightened and isolated. I was familiar with frightening, but I didn’t know how to cope up with isolation. It bothered me a lot. To me solitude seemed as a path to hell. I was felling like the lightning came dashing over me, and as if the divine curse had befallen over me. It seemed to me that only divine intervention can save me from this catastrophic situation.
The days of youth were the days of paradise. Perhaps I wasted them, or perhaps I made too much a fuss of those- I can’t understand yet, though one thing I understand, there is no power more colorful and more valiant than the power of youth.
I remember the child who was less human and has the traits of a monkey, the teacher’s whip that came crackling on the head, and the exotic anecdotes of innocent mischief.