Sunrise

Morning

Here’s my entry for the Weekly photo challenge

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Sunrise through my window.

Happened to capture this beautiful sunrise on my birthday one day (no, today isn’t my birthday)

There is something so beautiful and picturesque about sunrises and sunsets. The poet in me reasons that sunrises are beautiful because they prove that no matter how dark the night, there shall be morning again, hang in there. Sunsets are beautiful because they are symbolic of how bad or good the day was, it will end. Also the fact that endings can be beautiful too.

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Childhood and memories

The Things We Leave Behind

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My childish rendition of a sunset.

In response to today’s Discover – Things we leave behind challenge, I have used  a picture of something I used to do a lot as a kid, but stopped many years ago. Paint. Only virtually though haha. I would sit for hours at the computer and make what I thought were visual masterpieces of scenery. I remember one particular occasion where I made a scenery very similar to this one and I accidentally forgot to save it. I cried for a long time despite being consoled about how I would never make such a beautiful piece on Paint again.

To think back, losing things, memories, people, pieces of things that remind me of something still remain one of my weakness. Because once lost, they never come back the same.

I at the same time feel regret for the things I always wanted to learn when I grow up – graphic designing, for instance. I never got around to doing it. As a kid I used to design clothes (in a child’s drawing) but remarkable designs so I’m told, and from a very very young age too. I stopped doing it years ago.

One thing I feel a pang of regret for is the feeling of thinking you can conquer the world when you grow up only to realize differently once do.

 

 

Doors

For this week’s Door photo challenge, I chose these two pictures (since I couldn’t decide which one I liked better)

Both are excellent works of architecture I happened to stumble across in two different spiritual places.

The Basilica of Bom Jesus is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the architecture inside is exquisite. It is one of the oldest churches in Goa and in India. Sadly, I was unaware of the great importance of this place at the time I visited and only looked at it from the curiosity and wonder of a tourist.

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Enter a caption – Basilica of Bom Jesus

 

The Global Vipassana Pagoda has bone relics of Gautama Buddha  enshrined in the central locking stone of the dome.The  center of the Global Vipassana Pagoda contains the world’s largest stone dome built without any supporting pillars. Peaceful environment, natural beauty and serenity are main attractions at this haven, which surprisingly charges no fees for entry of visitors.

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Global Pagoda

 

Here’s a short poem I wrote about Doors –

The thrill, the novelty,the curiosity

the fear of the unknown

which of these dominates

will determine the jump through the door.

The leap of faith, the leap of folly?

A leap into something, beyond the ordinary.

To go or not to go, 

The heart says yes, the mind says no.

What shall you do?

Take the foreign roads

or sail the familiar route?

Will you chose to open the door,

and see what is in store?

Or will you stay back,

and enjoy the predictable present

that may adventure lack.

 

 

_________

 

For more detail and in depth history of the two places mentioned above have a look at

  1. http://www.goatourism.gov.in/destinations/churches/130-basilica-of-bom-jesus
  2. http://www.globalpagoda.org/

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Copyright © 2016 Sneha P All Rights Reserved

Image source – Self Clicked.

 

 

Ups and Downs

Curve

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Nitro, Imagica, India.

 

For this week’s photo challenge on ‘Curve’ I chose this picture of Nitro, one of the scariest roller coasters I’ve ever seen. It is one of the biggest attractions of the amusement park Adlab’s Imagica, India.  This picture is only a partial shot.

What makes it scary is that has no floor on its trains. It has five inversions. To be honest, it feels like death,especially for someone who isn’t a big fan of roller coasters. But a total thrill for people who do.

PS – Just like life isn’t it? Full of twists and turns, and when you think you’ve faced the worst, the ride surprises you again. When you feel like you can’t take it anymore, you don’t just get off the ride, you can’t. You face the fear and hold on tightly. Even if it feels like it’s taking forever to end, it will, just like bad times.

The pure joys

Pure

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For me when I hear the word pure, a clear blue sea springs to my mind.
Blue skies, serene beach and the sound of waves gently lapping at your feet, that is my description of paradise.  It gives you a lot of time to think, to feel, to forget.

Luckily enough I got to go on an impromptu trip to this beach nearby this weekend, just in time for this week’s Weekly picture challenge!

Here’s a little poem by me about this picture –

The mesmerising melody of the waves,
Lapping gently at my feet,
Bring me a pleasure oh so sweet.
Almost like a dream,
Untouched, uncorrupted by man,
Away from the noises,
A place so obscure,
I found my haven, a place so pure.

Lights

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Hello there reader! For this week’s weekly picture prompt “Pure” I’ve chosen this picture of a few oil lamps (Diyas in Hindi) from my home.

We use them to celebrate the festival of lights.

I think these oil lamps are symbolic.
Symbolic of how light shall persist over darkness. How even though all the odds are against you, the metaphorical wind, the reducing resources (oil) you must not give up. Persist, persist in the face of adversity.
Become a source of joy, a beacon of hope, to those around you. Continue to spread the joy of giving and you shall never be alone.

Copyright ( c ) [ Sneha P ]

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/pure/

Fickle Love

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The velvety softness,
Caressing my finger tips
Makes me feel invincible
For I know, one snap of my fingers
And this sweet little thing
Will be for forever,
Gone. Lost. Perished.

I’d compare it to love,
Their beauty resembles each other.
But I know love is fickle.
For once the heart is broken,
It will never love,
The same way again.
Or perhaps never love at all.
The flower though,
Will diligently grow again.

However, just like the smell of the crushed flower
Lingers on my fingertips,
The memories of love will linger
On my heart.
Perhaps forever.