Saturday, November 3, 2012

Day19:The greatest amount of wasted time is the time not getting started .......(Dawson Trotman)

Saturday,03-Nov-12;10:15pm
Electronic City, Bangalore

For ages, I have been deeply rooted in the clutches of Procrastination. Yes, this weekend I vow to reading the book 'The Now Habit' which has been pending 'unfinished' for last few months.

Tomorrow , would do my best to share a brief summary of the book in my words. Having said that, I wind up today.

Sharing one of the poems, I got to read on fellow blogger's site:

The Fighter

My world was dark, mess of a life,
No single place for joy to thrive,
The stunning solitude piercingly mute,
No saviour, no restitute.

Where shall I head, no place in sight,
And then there was light at the end of night.
The tide subsided, retreated the wave,
Alas! I missed the gems they gave.

I went ahead in the light so great,
Snubbing those hateful memories out straight,
My feet came to an abrupt halt,
As I stopped, the big tree called.

I looked at the tree mighty yet kind,
Braving the sun as well as the wind,
I too can be audacious, intrepid still,
I shall fight, yes, I will.

I can’t elude the miseries and torments,
Deeply woven in the fabric of life’s garment.
“Confront them, O self, and emerge smiling,
Ready to tackle the ones following.”

Beatific was I in the aura divine,
When the eternal fact reached my mind,
Sorrows, like joy, are shadows of life,
Engaging us throughout, to strive.

Why face the adversities then?
Just to armour for the next one?
And then another next, and the next still,
What’s life with such distasteful drill?

The delusion haunted me night and day,
Until I heard myself say,
“O dear self, fear mot any more,
Look at the sky, high should you soar.
“Million people walk the earth,
More than a half get unnoticed death,
Anguishingly they embrace the pyre,
Leave no trace after the fire.

“A few are epoch-making ones,
Reverberating, as generations come,
But not all can aspire to be such,
Else history loses its meaning much.

“Most of the remaining fear to bite the dust,
Craven beings, they too rot and rust.
You merit a better place, dear me,
For all battles fought courageously.

“Death, you know, is the inevitable one,
But you are content after battles won.
You belong now to those high ranks,
Who smile at death as another prank.”
                                           
                                            Courtesy: Aniket Anand, http://aniketanand.wordpress.com

Good Night, Sweet Dreams to all.

Narendra Gupta
10:25pm

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