A Month of Mini Writing Challenges
I stumbled upon this challenge very late. It is already 27th Sep.
The theme is –
Home Sweet Home
Home is where the heart is
Heart is where the love is
Love is where the compassion is
Compassion is where the understanding is
Understanding is where the friendship is
Friendship is where the compatibility is
When all these make
The four walls and the roof
Then there a sweet home is
Friday Fictioneer hosted by Rochelle Wisoff
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot- Thanks for photo prompt
Retreat
My spiritual guru’s voice was ringing in my head as I started climbing the stairs.
‘Each step will take you to the eternal light. Don’t look back .Surrender and you will attain enlightenment and salvation’
I thought it easy as I had nothing to lose except this sickly body which has given me nothing but miseries.
I was about to take the plunge when fear of surrendering to unknown grasped me.
Back there was at least world of known hell of addictive miseries. Whereas here was surrendering to unknown about which I was not sure.
I retreated to my hell.
Friday Fictioneers– Hosted by Rochelle Wisoff.
( My story is actually not fiction story but i take this prompt as an opportunity to write about my mother and my favorite poet.)
PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma Thanks Shaktiki for this prompt, it reminded me of my childhood.
Mother used to tell me stories of saints while grinding spices and grains in the afternoon. My favorite was Saint Kabir’s.
She will sing his couplets and will explain its meaning.
She told me how Kabir was threatened by both Muslims and Hindus for criticizing them for their wrong interpretation of their religion.
She told me how that after his death Hindus and Muslims both went to claim his body but found nothing except some flowers instead of his body.
She explained that it is symbolic. Saints are above religion and caste. They are like flowers whose fragrance we should appreciate.
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There are numerous couplets/words of wisdom by Kabir, I remember two couplets prominently-
Pahan pooje hari mile, to mein poojo pahar
Taate ye chaki bhali peece khaye sansar.
(If one can meet God by worshiping stone then I’ll worship mountain. Grinding stone is better than that, at least world can grind grains and eat.)
Kankar, pathar jod ke Maszid layi chunay
Ta chade mulla bang de, kya bahara hua khuday
( With stones they build Maszid and shout his name from the roof top as if God has become deaf.)
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If God be within the mosque, then to whom does this world belong?
If Ram be within the image which you find upon your pilgrimage,
then who is there to know what happens without?
Hari is in the East, Allah is in the West.
Look within your heart, for there you will find both Karim and Ram;
All the men and women of the world are His living forms.
Kabir is the child of Allah and of Ram: He is my Guru, He is my Pir.
~ Kabir Translated by Rabindranath Tagore.
Some
Always complain that
There is no zing in their life
Forgetting that
There are some
Who don’t have
Whatever others have
But never complain
About the unfairness of life
And
Bear the sting
’cause they know
All it takes to bring zing back in life is
Courage to fight, grace and a sincere smile.
Here and Now –Choose a moment and capture it in the medium of your choice.
At last! I caught the chipmunk ( may be cousin of squirrel) on my camera. I’m loving and relishing the moment.
MOMENTS
Moments of love I cherish.
Moments of togetherness I relish.
Moments of gratitude I like to live again and again.
Moments of compassion I linger on .
Though moments of hatred I try to forget.
Moments of failure, I try to forget not,
to learn from them and move on.
Please click here for a wonderful story-https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2016/09/07/9-september-2016
PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook (Thanks Sandra for this photograph, it brought back lots of memories of childhood.)
Non-fiction
102 words
Compassion
Rioters burned the tailor’s shop. It was opposite to our house.
When the curfew was lifted, he came and sat down in despair on seeing the ramshackle shop.
Mother called him and offered him our old singer machine for the time he could buy his own.
He was thankful and offered to stitch our clothes for free.
Mother strongly rejected the idea.
‘You need money to buy a new machine. So start your business first and save money.’
Mother was a conservative Hindu and the tailor was a Muslim.
Mother sowed a seed of compassion, for everyone, in me that day.
Take time to recharge your batteries. It’s hard to see where you’re going when your lights are dim.
Which one is the best way to recharge your battery?
