i feel sometimes
how difficult it is to bind so many multifarious, vibrant, colourful and
fragrant flowers of memories in a single bouquet of life. it is said that life
is mortal. *life: born to die* but the very fibres constituting life rather
develop, perpetuate, deepen and strengthen with time. *memories: born to grow* .it is amazing to observe how the most living and eternal essence of this
universe is termed to be mortal.
Times
change and so does people
Circumstances
change and so does opinion
We
grow, develop and become that we never were
Life:
goes on, on and on
But
what rests with us with beauty, fragrance and sweetness
Are
memories of ones that were dear, of ones that were near
These
memories have a heart
A
heart which beats for others
A
heart which knows all others apart from himself
Memories
are not born in the procedure of living
In fact,
each memory bears a life to live in
What
I feel the same my friends did
And
so lasted a group of babbling gabbling crowd
But
changed interests, hobbys and lifestyle
May
be mine, theirs or people everywhere
Time:
ongoing , fast and speedy
You
can chase it but you can never compete
And
then a little conflict over ideas and thoughts
Clashes
some serious comments of do’s and don'ts
And
then a new crowd to sit in
A
new group of people to chat
A
new attire of beauty to be worn
But,
what happened and what dint
Relations
never die
They
grow, perpetuate and develop
In
a small beating heart at run
They
nourish the very hunger of soul
As
it has lust of only one thing on and on
Soul
: it grows, develops and wants
Nothing
But love, love and love
These are memories
Dense,
dark and deep
It
is an attire of beauty
Clothes
to my very being
They
save me, teach me, make me laugh
And
cry sometimes hard and hard
Howsoever
sweet or bitter they were
How
bad or good the people I met were
But,
memories they gave are gonna be somewhere
within me ever and forever
because
these memories are
small
flowers in a big bouquet of life
life:
born to die
memories:
born to grow
17-Jun-12:
5.39pm:
Author’s note:
life is the most precious gift of god, he gave to you the very time you landed in this universe. He is there watching you all the time from heaven above, keeping a look on what you do, how you did and how things went wrong. He knows how people perceived you and how you perceived them. The mirror you look yourself in daily is fake. It tells you how you look at yourself. GOD is the true mirror. He knows how others look at you. But, whatever turns and twists the life may take. You have MEMORIES. Moments are beautiful. The times you spend with friends, small fights, agreements, those hugs and hi-5s exchanged. Little trips made with family, quarrels for window seats. Those gossips that were never true and everybody knowing of it. Those linkups discussed in schools and ever knowing it wasn’t linked ever. All are memories. Crying hard on failing, a report card never rising. A few friends we were fond of, who turned out to be never promising. But, all are MEMORIES. As I say, All are different attires of beauty.
life is the most precious gift of god, he gave to you the very time you landed in this universe. He is there watching you all the time from heaven above, keeping a look on what you do, how you did and how things went wrong. He knows how people perceived you and how you perceived them. The mirror you look yourself in daily is fake. It tells you how you look at yourself. GOD is the true mirror. He knows how others look at you. But, whatever turns and twists the life may take. You have MEMORIES. Moments are beautiful. The times you spend with friends, small fights, agreements, those hugs and hi-5s exchanged. Little trips made with family, quarrels for window seats. Those gossips that were never true and everybody knowing of it. Those linkups discussed in schools and ever knowing it wasn’t linked ever. All are memories. Crying hard on failing, a report card never rising. A few friends we were fond of, who turned out to be never promising. But, all are MEMORIES. As I say, All are different attires of beauty.
So, never mourn for some bad time you saw or cry over
good time that is no more. Learn from bad and carry good things with you. Life
still has many lessons to give you. Till now what happened was only a grain,A
grain of memory. Awaiting are still many
flowers: flowers of memories.
With love~~isha jain~~
