Weekly Photo Challenge: The Golden Hour

The golden hour is the first and last hour of sunlight of the day. Every week, The Daily Post hosts a Photography Challenge with a theme which the bloggers need to interpret, take photographs and post them on WordPress. This is the first time I’m participating in Daily Post’s weekly photography challenge. Hope some of you photography enthusiasts would join too. The more, the merrier!
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I don’t have a DSLR to capture stunning images. Actually, I don’t need one. A 12.0 MP point and shoot camera with some Adobe Photoshop skills can do equally amazing stuff, although some might say such photographs are unoriginal. But poor us, we can’t afford DSLRs!

Empty Tables In The Morning

Melt Me With The Snow

 

Journey Into The Dusk

Sunlight: “A sign board ain’t gonna stop me!”

Filtering through flaws!

Let me park my car in the sky.

 

 

My Campaign Against Women Abuse

one print of these photos. . .

hundred xerox copies

campaign in college

~ ~ ~

I want people to look at the posters I am creating and I am thinking of pasting them all over the college. I have already done such a thing during the ‘Babri Masjid verdict’.

There are also a lot of posters already on the web and they need to be seen and understood. So I request you to share some of them on your blogs and social networks because this is high time, women are being subject to ridicule everyday all across the world. And in my country, India, this has gotten beyond insanity! People are coming out and protesting these atrocities against women and that is only a start. So please share or write your own mind on your blogs about these blasphemous incidents.

So here are the posters I did until now: SPEAK OUT. SPEAK LOUD.

April Haiku Month, Day 26: Waterfalls

waterfall beckons . . .

people are convinced it would cleanse them

even if they raped

~ ~ ~

Many of the believers in god blindly believe in things like these, that ‘are said to’cleanse their souls and wipe off all the sins they committed. Many ARE CONVINCED that they become good by taking a holy dip or doing a holy prayer or something. Let me tell you, these people are blind. Blinded by faith in the unknown and unseen, and blinded by lust for the material and mundane. These are the people who have no guilty conscience, or just a little may be. These people go to temples and offer huge amounts of money and gold and BELIEVE that their future is secure and that they have bribed their god enough to let them off any crimes and sins they committed. And god isn’t helping either, because they really seem to be getting away from what they deserve for everything they did. India is the biggest hypocrite on the world map. The world would be half a better place than it is now if these people started believing in undoing their wrongs, not ‘devote’ themselves t0 ‘god’ in reparation.

 

April Haiku Month, Day 2: Butterfly

Image rights reserved to Peiling Lee

~ ~ ~

a pink lily grove . . .

butterflies dance in nectar

bees and birds join

~ ~ ~

a girl wanders lost . . .

butterflies whisper in ear

‘ssssh! come, dance with us’

~ ~ ~

a land of unknown . . .

they dance together past thorns

nature aides the lost

~ ~ ~

This post is submitted at Haiku Heights for Day 2 prompt – Butterfly. This post is also a part of my NaPoWriMo 2013 journey, my first. I am also trying to take up the A-to-Z Blogging challenge which requires bloggers to write a post everyday during all April. I will try to write separate posts for NaPoWriMo and A-to-Z Blogging Challenge IF possible. I sure want to.

I am going to share your everyday Haiku on my Facebook Page. Keep tabs on it too.

Thank you all for reading my haiku. I’ll be reading yours too, and I enjoy each one of your haiku. Your comments always help me improve and motivate myself to keep going.

Thank you and keep writing! 

Tweet me at @WeOweWomen.

Beauty, Glory, Joy, Pain & Fortitude – Haiku #55

~ ~ ~

(a woman sings)

I smile at beauty,

I pluck nature’s bounty,

my lush hair glorified.

~ ~ ~

(the flower sings)

the joy is all mine,

anything for your warm smile;

goodbye mother, love.

~ ~ ~

(the plant sings)

weak moment this, but

another you I shall raise,

more smiles she shall bring.

Image credits:  All rights reserved by logncdunlap1

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This post is submitted at Haiku Heights. The prompt is ‘fortitude’.
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King, Dove, Friend And Peace – Haiku #33

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~ ~ ~

Scene I

~ ~ ~

A Dove flying in some mysterious but beautiful place ( First Person – Dove )

~ ~ ~

O’ mother, thank you,

soothing plains, blissful green woods,

wonderful is world.

~ ~ ~

pristine, agile winds,

lift mine spirits to heavens,

wings hardly matter (for spirit).

~ ~ ~

angelic white, mine

plumage, how many hearts changed,

chose peace over battle?

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

Scene II

~ ~ ~

A cruel king came for hunting Stag ( First Person – King )

~ ~ ~

( Addresses the Stag )

mine aim wavers not,

arrow tip bellows thy end,

royal dish, thine flesh!

~ ~ ~

( Suddenly he sees the dove above )

~ ~ ~

elegant beauty,

she’s mine, on royal platter,

arrow aims high now,

~ ~ ~

( Addresses the Dove now )

~ ~ ~

O’ dove, thee is mine,

die proud as regal king’s food,

death be upon thee!

~ ~ ~

( He leaves the Stag and loosens the arrow at the dove and she is hit )

~ ~ ~

Ha Ha! King I am,

no being eludes arrows,

Dove slayer king, me.

~ ~ ~

Scene III – Act I

~ ~ ~

A man sees the dove being hit by the arrow and runs to the fallen bird ( First Person – Man )

~ ~ ~

O’ mine friend, tell who

hath brought this upon thee –

my sword rages in anger.

~ ~ ~

O’ mine friend, beauty,

leave this world not, breathe please, love,

god needn’t have you.

~ ~ ~

don’t shut eyes;

O’ blind god, why her;

love, love, friend!

~ ~ ~

The Dove speaks to the man  and at the same time,the cruel king reaches a point where he can hear her speak, he stops and listens ( First Person – Dove )

~ ~ ~

O’ kind friend of mine,

thy love for nature pleases

it is time i rest.

~ ~ ~

promise, little one,

that thy sword tastes no blood, to

avenge mine that spilled,

~ ~ ~

shed blood never, Friend,

keep peace, alive or dead; world

needs peace, give it and……………………………

~ ~ ~

( Dove breathes no more )

( King  comes out of the bushes, the friend of Dove speaks )

~ ~ ~

My King,  great hunter,

none can match your skills, no one

in your whole kingdom!

~ ~ ~

My King, what justice,

do you serve, your cruelty

is the crown you wear!

~ ~ ~

Hadst she not asked peace,

(i) shan’t think twice, i’l behead thee,

my foot on thy crown!

~ ~ ~

( The king speaks )

~ ~ ~

O’ grieving friend of  Dove,

i lay down my crown and sword,

i repent mine wrongs

~ ~ ~

O’ trustful friend of Dove,

ascend mine throne, give peace then

kingdom needs her, peace.

~ ~ ~

O’ true friend of Dove,

forgive ,  i will show myself

to no eyes again.

~ ~ ~

( The king goes into the wilderness in repentance and to keep the kingdom running, Dove’s friend ascends the throne.

He speaks : )

~ ~ ~

every battle now,

that we shall be part, be for

peace, not blood or pride .

~ ~ ~

every battalion,

shall bear white flag, symbol peace,

remembering dove.

~ ~ ~

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Tweet me at @sankarajayanth

I don’t know why, when i saw the prompt the first thing to come to mind was “alive or dead, peace.”.
maybe due the ever eluding peace, for which runs a daily quest for me and that my tired mind and soul longs for a piece of it.
And peace = dove, as many things i relate to nature. And i thought of presenting it this way.

And later when i was half way through, i remembered a childhood story : hunter kills a pigeon but the pigeon’s wife gives shelter to hunter,
to satisfy and do justice to the dharma of comforting the guests, she jumps into flames to become the food for the guest.
My story, i think, was almost the same. So, i thank that childhood story and whoever wrote it.

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Suggestions and corrections are most welcome, I’m still learning Haiku.

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘alive’.

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Arms Of Forgiveness – Haiku #20

you are in for a long set of haiku ( abberated ones ), have patience if you can manage. 🙂

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O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, is written

mine exile,  hidden

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, a thriving man,

who hurt thee in past

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, a broken man,

who hurt thee, never

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, thine virtue 

hath me breathing hard, why blind,

what sin i doth thus?

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, thine virtue,

forgiveness, hadst me exiled,

someone else got closer.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, speak ‘least now,

i question not in arrogance,

what sin i doth thus?

~ ~ ~

if to -try to ebb

thine pains served by life- is to

sin, then i did sin.

~ ~ ~

if to -hide my name,

in humility- is to

sin, then i did sin.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, what hadst i

done, that hath me pushed into

this vile emptiness.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in angst, i,

ask thee to see, difference,

in love and true love.

~ ~ ~

O’ Love, in thy arms,

of forgiveness, is written

mine exile,  hidden.

~ ~ ~

archaic (old English) words :

hath = has

hast = have

hadst = had

thy / thine = your

thou / thee = you

doth = do / does

~ ~ ~

i started writing it as a haiku,

but the inner feelings caught me in a grip and dictated me to write this, even if there were abberations from the rules of haiku

~ ~ ~

one thing i want to tell not in haiku :

forgiveness is a great virtue,

a very great one indeed,

but in excess of it,

shall, many a time,

sinners thrive,

while all along, good ones get the woeful plate of plight.

how strange.

how harsh.

how forgiving ( yes, sarcastic in deed ).

~ ~ ~

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being “forgive”.

Hurt Her Not – Haiku #18

forgive : i feel it is a tough word in general and a tough word for a haiku too.

so here’s my try :

” thou hast my lady,

hurt her not, forgive she may,

as lost love, i won’t “

~ ~ ~

i donno if people can get what i tried to tell, i would just say that this haiku’s fictional context is

” my love is with an other man, her only man (she never was mine, in fact), but i still love her, for eternity.

and i warn ( not in grudge, but in a concerned urge, for my lady) him, as she chose him, above me,

i warn him not to disappoint her or hurt her because i wouldn’t if i was him.

O’ love,

lost love.”

~ ~ ~

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being “forgive”.

She Sells Shells – Haiku #24

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dreams big and hopes high,

she sells sea shells on seashore,

buy one, help her smile

~ ~ ~

a haiku inspired by the famous tongue twister “she sells sea shells on the sea shore”

can’t get it right once, not once 😀 :O

~ ~ ~

Suggestions and corrections are most welcome, I’m still learning Haiku. 

This post is an entry in Haiku Challenge for April 2012 at Haiku Heights. The prompt being ‘seashore’.

Life And Wheels Moved On – Haiku #45

This post is submitted at Haiku Heights. The prompt is ‘mask’.

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you see me not love (dear);
help comes; heals wounds; i wear mask
named humility.

~ ~ ~

far away you went;
still wondering who it was;
life and wheels moved on.

~ ~ ~

distance grew much now;
same humility hinders;
from seeking your love.

~ ~ ~

love is not to ask;
but to give away; like blood,
from mother to child.

~ ~ ~

hope filled eyes; i wait;
will your ever see through the mask;
forces act against.

~ ~ ~
( The below is the text from which i framed the haiku. I couldn’t put in everything in Haiku. So, read on if you like to. It’s long though, don’t say i din’t warn you. )

while he dared, i cared.

expressing all is never always right,
it only takes boldness.

to hold back expressions take a lot more,
of love, faith and hope;
in truth, it takes a herculean boldness, more than what it takes to express,
but none sees it, just because there was an absence of my expression,

so, if boldness weighs more than love, care, faith and hope,
then yes, i was a loser right from the first moment,
the moment when i chose to hold back,
knowing too well what it takes and what it gives me.

one day hardly goes by,
with this question not torturing my mind,
“don’t you see this yet?”,
yet and again, i hold back from asking this loud.

why, ask me “why?”,
i might just yet stay mum, for the answer i have for you will stump you.
so, instead i choose to see you hurt because of my silence, than because of my answer,
i choose to see you hurt less while i still have the option.

but as no question should go unanswered,
i would give you these words,

“let your heart be honest with your eyes and with itself”

now go,
the journey is yours to travel,
the answers are your to unravel.

the journey would still end at where i am,
the answers still leave a part of the question untouched,
“why did you stay silent when you had so much love?”,

that, my love, shall be answered after you complete the journey,
the reason for making you search for the answer yourself is to prepare you,
for the eventual leash of my held back love.

a little apprehension lingers deep down though,
time is a thin thread, that i am playing by,
i fear i might not radiate and transfer enough reason into you so that you don’t give up on the journey that i put you to,
i fear, time might crop doubts in your head,
and if you submit to them, you would be convinced that i was a fool,
and you would distance yourself from me.

but doesn’t truth always win, as told by the meandering bards,
that’s one gamble i took.

now we go to where this started,
what it took to take this gamble, that might leave me with nothing if it went wrong.

my love,

expressing all is never always right,
it only takes boldness.

to hold back expressions take a lot more,
of love, faith and hope;
in truth, it takes a herculean boldness, more than what it takes to express.

Oh wait,
didn’t i tell you that i would go along with you through the journey, masked in a cloak of invisibility?
oh sure i din’t, because the quest for truth is one you should not skip,
though i knew it would impress you if i told i was coming along,
and it would raise my stature up a notch at your heart,
but i choose to hide my presence and lose a chance to have you love me.
but this journey is not about me, this is about you,
and that along with my enormous care is reason enough for me to wear the cloak of invisibility, in humility,
and walk along.

Oh darn!
while he dared, i cared.

that’s all i need you to see.
that’s all i need you to learn.

~ ~ ~

To Get Close To Nature, You Just Need To…

To Get Close To Nature, You Just Need To…

To get close to nature,

You just need to breathe,

You just need to feel the air,

You just need to smell the earth,

You just need to embrace the warmth,

You just need to welcome the rain droplets,

And then, you just need to hold all of them together,

Like you would with your Love, Friend, Sister, Brother, Father and Mother,

Make the rain droplets your tears of grief and sympathy,

The warmth, your shield that can break any arrow,

The earth, your motivation to live and love,

The air, your teacher of truthfulness,

You just need to breathe yet,

Now where are you?

Close to nature.

You Can Even Love An Empty Life

from the heavens came letters of console,
all the woman expected was an invitation,
to be taken away too,
just like her husband,
who was forced to take his repose.

lost in grief, she hears a mellowly carol,
or was that her heart’s painful melancholic trepidation,
she collapses to her knees,
just like her husband,
who never again rose.

and forever, her love, his grave and her grief became her whole,
vines grew hugging the marble in affection,
flowers blushed until her heart’s last bloom,
and then,
all went brown,
grey,
then empty.

For all love she had,
for one,
her purity and truthfulness conjured a bond stronger than any other,
a divine bond,
one that showed how can one love life, until the very end.

her husband,
her life,
her all.
for she was an orphan when he took her into his warm embrace,
that’s when he promised her that he shall be with her forever.

——————-

Submitted at One Single Impression.

To Be A Star Up There

with millions of stars, the sky looks pompous,
i wonder where they get the radiant motive to shine,
while my own star, my heart, is all dried up,
soaked by the rough pores in rust, formed by emptiness,
even the crack of dawn and the creek of dusk could be heard,
and to share them there is none,
i think, i ponder, i wonder and i would,
give up anything to be one of those in the sky,
that shine away innocence,
unaffected by the whiplashes of fate.

Oh! I would trade everything to be one of them,
never pale, ever smiling, just as everyone wants.

—————-

Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.

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Warrior Woman

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Women today are exploited in every and all possible ways, which i very sad. I always said,

“We men don’t own women,
we, but owe them; and so much at that.”

They wash away all the stains from our clothes and god knows its true – and also stains from our hearts,
they do it with every reason to see us ‘unstained’.

if nothing changes and no one changes(god forbid me),
we might have to come down to this(the below poem) to see a completely free woman.
and that these happen in India, where people believe in goddesses,  hurts me so much

~ ~ ~

she looks back to scrutinize and estimates the damage she has done.
and so it ends.

as the world did not heed the woman’s warning,
a warning that broke out from the very bowels of womanhood,
women have endured so much, they still do,
none put up a giant fight to repel the evil around,
they yet tenderly kept the evil away from time to time, not to hurt the evil in return,
many not strong enough for even that, succumbed,
strong they are, weak the world makes them,
weak they become, the world plunders more and makes them weaker,
weaker they are, and the world doesn’t stop, it plunders more,

And i am one belonging to that very world,
lying low, eyes and mind synced and understanding the unfolding rave,
i wince and moan,
i loathe men, i am one, i loathe men,
i wince and moan,
heart slows down, asking for a closure,
nay, i cannot give up, eyes and mind synced, they understand the unfolding rave,

out of nowhere comes a ragged woman,
scarred from brow to boots,
no less a warrior,
armed or not i don’t care,
there she is, walking towards me,
i won’t stop her, if she wants to end it with me,
i’d only die proud and in this way,

women were never weak,
men were too weak and vile to accept it,
but they got their answer.

she stops and looks back to scrutinize and estimate the damage, all for good, she has done,
she walks on,

her name is HOPE.
MY HOPE.

~ ~ ~

a woman, a mother; is the strongest life-form that is(that exists).

~ ~ ~

This post has been written for The Surf Excel Matic #SoakNoMore Contest, IndiBlogger.

Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.

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Why Did I Name My Blog ‘Black and White Heart’ ?

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named my blog black and white heart,
many wondered what it meant.

how can a blood-red heart be black and white,
how, ask me how.

when there is love for even subtle, generally-ignored things like a crumpled autumn leave,
when there is sympathy and empathy towards the weaker beings,
when there is a zest to know why one has to be strong while another has to be weak,
when there is the kindle flame deep inside, burning only to seek truth, when there are questions burning to be fired at the injustices of the world,
when there is this void of unknowable knowledge, as to why there has to be so much suffering in the world,
when there is this herculean rage inside, to bring down the traitors of humanity,
when there is a special respect for women,
when there is again a murderous rage inside, for how most men treat women,
where there is angst to show people how aberrant us human lives have turned,
when there is this restlessness and immensely overwhelming pain looking at how we humans sabotage our own well being,

what else do I see but the colors – white and black,
which form all world for me,
every speck of sand,
every breeze of air,
and ever drop of the sea.

swinging between extremes,
my heart is but black and white,
void and veracious.