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Sunday, August 30, 2015

Mother and Son


A mother mushroom and her son are seen both lying in embrace in a warm morning. This is one of the serene scenes that mushrooms have exhibited, but leaves fall and flowers wither, where will the mother and son be then?

Are there any hospitals in their world? ICU? Doctor's cruel diagnosis as in mine?

These are surely helpless scenes if there are any, and always be the most difficult parts of our journey.

(My mom has been suffering from pneumonia for a month)

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Spilled Moon


Moon was full, it over spilled. 

l found a portion of it in this morning in the jungle. They were now mushrooms. 

Falling so heavily, helping hands of winds, they were scattered and never got their shape back, but the yellow did not turn pale. 

Once moon, they are forever moon. They will disappear when I come back again. I shall look up and they will then be moon again.

Friday, July 24, 2015

A Little Mushroom


My murmurs have crept into its subconscious.

Dreaming non-stop the magical rabbit hole of  Alice's Wonderland, getting inspired always by Indiana Jones's adrenalin-pumping adventures, a little mushroom is saying good-bye to me.

It wants to start its own journey.

I do not know so cannot tell how and where it will end up, but this novice holds strong to its belief.

In our life there are many awesome moments, the little cutie needs only one, and it never turns back.


Saturday, July 18, 2015

July Symphony


I walk into one Saturday of July, a morning of sunshine mingled by the breeze, and everywhere are the pulses of life eagerly to mark their presence. 

Hello here and there, they shout silently, auto focus and clicking of the shutter interweave symphonically. 


They are different, they are same; They are mushrooms, they are new sprouts; they are the dancing morning spirits looking for a peaceful piece of wonderland.


I love this Saturday morning.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

That is Complicating My Life

If Nature talks and I know it does, it would tell that brightness is given, but we turn it into darkness. When darkness falls, we have it painted with blue-tinged brightness.


I waited carefully for the silent murmurs of mushrooms, but there are not any. It may be their dinner time right now. No spare mouth.


"That is complicating my life." They would say otherwise.