Write Your Life For Your Loved Ones!

From The Pen-APN

By love and writing only you can transmit the interpretation of your life and the existential knowledge that you have gathered. The wisdom and experience of your life that you have already lived must be gifted to someone who makes your next generation. But to establish a link with your past and the consciousness and conscience of another human being who is your future representative you need the strength of spirit and an elevated consciousness to establish a connection between your next generation and your generation. Perhaps this thought is best represented by the word, SAMSKARA.

Holding your son's or daughter's hands imagine the time when he/she got birth and then remember the moments how he/she started experiencing the world around. It is true that what you have already experienced, he/she is yet to experience them. However, your views about your world are no more congruous and they have already changed and have taken some new form. And in such a new context another human is born as your son or daughter who is unaware of your era. He or she has all new and fresh vie-points which may jar with your conception and this is how the monster of generation gap is born.

Every moment we change but it seems to us that we have not changed much. But the irony of life is that the changes are so continuous and so deeply ingrained in us and they are so imperceptible that we fail to sense it. Often, people around us complain that we have changed radically but we say a curt, "No, not at all."

At last, it can be concluded that "as you write, you uncover the hidden gems inside you that you didn't even know were there."

Write your life and help your near and dear ones understand the world better.

RAIN

From the pen-APN

When the music of rain

Soaks the green leaves

And the rivulets dance

And muddy fields are reborn  

Then in a lonely place

Far from sight

Splashing with joys

Of togetherness and love

Life gathers up

The Golden moments

Of love and human bonding

While the clouds are still raining…

Milk

From the pen-APN

Utter poverty had sucked the lifeblood of the mother and her feeble body was no more lactating. And the famished baby in her lap was crying desperately for a few drops of milk. All her efforts to relieve the child went in vain. Then gradually the cry stopped, and the baby showed no signs of struggle for attention. The helpless mother stood like a motionless statue looking with hunger-filled eyes at the vibrant coloured packets of milk winking through the glass doors of a well-stocked shop. The baby was no more crying and tears had dried at the corners of her eyes…
N.B.
(What is the value of that policy which does not include the welfare of the poorest of the poor of my state???)