Hand of Hope of an “UNBORN”

Following picture began circulating in November. It should be “The Picture of the Year,” or perhaps, “Picture of the Decade.” It won’t be. In fact, unless you obtained a copy of the U.S. paper w hich published it, you probably would never have seen it.
The picture is that of a 21-week-old unborn baby named Samuel Alexander Armas, who is being operated on by surgeon named Joseph Bruner. The baby was diagnosed with spina bifida and would not survive if removed from his mother’s womb. Little Samuel’s mother, Julie Armas, is an obstetrics nurse in Atlanta. She knew of Dr. Bruner’s remarkable surgical procedure. Practicing at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, he performs these special operations while the baby is still in the womb. During the procedure, the doctor removes the uterus via C-section and makes a small incision to operate on the baby. As Dr. Bruner completed the surgery on Samuel, the little guy reached his tiny, but fully developed hand through the incision and firmly grasped the surgeon’s finger. Dr. Bruner was reported as saying that when his finger was grasped, it was the most emotional moment of his life, and that for an instant during the procedure he was just frozen, totally immobile. It simply holds the top of every emotion he has felt throughout his entire life.

The photograph captures this amazing event with perfect clarity. The editors titled the picture, “Hand of Hope.
Little Samuel’s mother said they “wept for days” when they saw the picture. She said,

“The photo reminds us pregnancy isn’t about disability or an illness, it’s about a little person”

Samuel was born in perfect health, the operation 100 percent successful. Now see the actual picture, and it is awesome…incredible….and hey, pass it on! The world needs to see this one!

Weekly Photo Challenge: On Top



Broken stands a part of ME ..

What do I actually mean by “a part of me?” .. How was that broken???… Who broke it??… Why did he/she do that?? ... Well a few questions are always left unanswered.

A few months or probably a year back when I started writing this poem I had no idea where would it turn and where would it make me stand. A few disasters of your life are buried inside you and even you don’t have any idea how deep they have penetrated your soul. They worst thing about writing up your mind is that it even makes you write about the things, the past chapters of your life that you don’t even wanna think of.

Although in my writings I seem like an emotional person but in life I am not or may be it’s just that I express my emotions only through writing. This poem was written for my Best friend on our 6th friendship anniversary… Okay I know nobody celebrates friendship anniversaries but Yessss! We do. Tears rolled down my eyes while writing it all and I never thought I could be that sensitive.

Anyways I never planned to write a whole story but eventually it turned out to be one. Nevertheless I am still happy with the way it has turned out to be.


Busy in my whimsical day,Found a few pieces on my way,
Broken ,segmented & torn,A symbol of resilience in the morn,
I picked them up with a sigh,Hid my face, so they won’t see me cry,
Held every fragment in my hand,& ran back home as I couldn’t stand.


Ambivalent… Wondering how to fill the gap,
I arranged them all in my lap,
Fixed every bit with everything i had,
Mended with all the love,a delirious person can have,
Glued all the scratches,removing defection,
It smiled back at me,waving with affection,


Then time traveled,eclipse passed and the glaciers melted,

Glues dried,pieces joined and the wounds wilted,
That night,I imagined how beautiful it had been in the past,
And slept….


When i roused up it wasn’t where it was kept,
I recalled how i struggled for it to be corrected,
Then i saw something familiar,
As it had been resurrected,


It turned out to be a beauteous frame,
With it’s heart bulging and writing my name,


It was more enchanting than my imagination last night,
I took a steady step and got amused with delight,

I see myself.
I see myself.

I saw myself in a charming frame,
It was a mirror,written with my name,
YES!!..it was you my little ME,
More than just precious than anything could ever be..

My name.
My name.

Weekly writing challenge: Poetry

Am I a hesitant Poet??

Enough of a definition.
Enough of a definition.

Initially about six to seven years ago when I started to write I never wanted anybody to read whatever I wrote. I had a sense of embarrassment whenever I tried to read something I wrote, May be because I was very static and rational on the outside yet inside I had a sea of emotions. At a home where you live with four other naughty siblings of yours it’s just not too easy to maintain and keep everything you write in a secret diary Slowly I progressed and started showing my writings to my Best Friend and still whatever I write the first person whose compliment and every word really matters is her. I’ve loved her endlessly and I’ll always continue doing so… Now I am completely comfortable sharing them on WordPress and sending them to a few selective people.

Never wanted it opened.
Never wanted it opened.

The thing I hated about Poetry is that you have to open up your heart in front of everyone. People can actually predict and judge what you are going through and not everybody can understand. That’s the only thing that refrained me from sharing my writings in the past and still it does, As I seem more like a reserved, rational, composed and emotionally stable person ( Although on the inside sometimes I am not). I like staying that way.

A few months ago when I wrote this poem (I would have never let you cry) and showed it to a friend. He appreciated me and asked me to write something specifically just for him. When I requested him to suggest a topic or a starting line, He said “Since the day I met you, It feels like you complete the missing me”, This line seemed beautiful and I started thinking of the next line that I am gonna write “Never devised;never imagined, how different a man can ever be“. My friend claimed that he liked it but you know sometimes it becomes quite difficult to believe a person who gives compliments for formality because you never know when they really mean it and when they are just being nice and formal.

Anyways, continuing a poem with these two lines was quite hard chiefly because I am not habitual of writing on topics,Since I didn’t write the first line so continuing in fluency was not easy and mainly because I don’t believe what I said. I never believed that any man could be different or reliable or protective (except my Dad). Whenever I thought about continuing the poem I was always overwhelmed by the thought that I don’t mean whatever I wrote. I always write whatever I feel but this time? … I don’t claim that I don’t lie but at least I have never lied in any of my writings. Finally I decided to write something which would not comprise of any details on how different is he? and what makes me think that he is different.This picture reminds me of the creativity that I’ve mentioned in my poem. I knew that he actually wanted to know how I think but still I ended up writing something which won’t tell him that. The poem goes like this

Falling leaves.
Falling leaves.

Once I stood and gazed the wilted leaves of autumn,

Felt apart, weakened and blown to the fathom,

Silent themselves, but yet a rustling sound,

Tinges of gloom, As they were actually meant for the ground.

There I stood and tasted the tint of springs,
The shades of leaves, bound to their wings,
I gazed and gazed the finest leaf that shines,
And wondered whose smile this shine reminds,
It smiled ; I smiled … We smiled.

I sensed the satisfaction in it’s smile,
The shades of the weather, filled it with pride,
I smiled wondering again as i sighed,
It sensed the completeness in my smile,
So watched and asked the reason behind,
I winked and smiled, as i replied:

“Since I met him it feels like he completes the missing me,
As I never devised; never imagined, how different a man can ever be.”

As usual I showed it to my best friend and she loved it. She always loves whatever I write. Half of the reason can be that she loves me and she actually knows why and for what I write. When I showed it to my Friend for whom it was written he said it’s great. But yet the same thing, I sensed in his tone that he was just being nice. He didn’t quite like it and asked, “Where am I in your poem??”, I always knew that he wanted me to write in his appreciation but I never thought he would ask that. I just tried to joke around “It’s all about me and autumn and the beautiful spring and leaves”.”But where am I??” as he asked I committed to write another one because he didn’t like this one. He didn’t say that either but I know he was not quite satisfied.

Is shyness an Excuse???
Is shyness an Excuse???

Now writing it all again was another big deal for me. That simply meant I had to elaborate the point that why do I consider him different when I actually don’t.When I started thinking my mind I found that half of me believes him this way and half of me doesn’t. As I discussed it with my best Friend she said I can probably use these mingled thoughts beautifully. I knew that if I write it in this way my Friend is not gonna like it. I knew he wanted something sweet,something special,something that I wont say otherwise and I felt deprived of it all. I know he has always been sweet,kind but yet so silent that one would always suspect that I am imposing myself on him. I know I seem like a paranoid when I say that believing men is hard for me but I’ve seen that how far a man can go for his needs and wishes, and that is the biggest wall which makes me stay away from trusting them. I know he would not like me for saying these words as he has always been careful while speaking whereas I am the exact opposite. Expressing myself was always and always very difficult and with formal people it becomes even more than that. I am abrupt and I know that there are things that I utter and he doesn’t like.The same goes right now, I know that the second poem on the same topic will also not be liked by him. Yet I still write it because I wanted to and I am not gonna show it to him (A tiny mini Secret). It’s all about what he says and how I partly believe it and partly don’t.

Since the day I met you it feels like you complete the missing me,

Hopes bring Changes.
Hopes bring Changes.

Never devised; never imagined how different a man can be,

A part of me just says that aloud,
A part of me simply refuses with it’s doubts,
“Not everybody is the same”, that’s what you say,
I listened and thought that one day I may,
But it would take ages to admit and see,
As I’ve seen the worst that a man can ever be.

“A man stays a man”, that’s what I say,
“Nature never changes”, that’s how I say,
A part of me just says its true,
Other part says the exception is you,
“Exceptions always exist”, that’s what you say,
I fear believing them would make me pay.

Since the day I saw you I knew we were different,
With your heart beating for every girl that passed,
And I smiling aside, knowing that it won’t last,
Chidship; sweetness, that’s what I say,
A ration for your heart, that’s how I say.

You had your own distances,
I had my own differences,
You chose to be rational where I stood insane,
Where you stood accomplished, I was all in vain,
A part of me says love binds by it’s ways,
A part of me just laughs, laughs and strays.

You say “That’s not it, some men do change”,
It may seem strange — But yet who would change?

Weekly Writing Challenge: Time for poetry

My Right to Freedomss …

Freedom for me is just like having wings — flying directly to the sky … no boundaries, no guidelines, no limitations, no ethics and no manners. Yes I mean it seriously, sometimes I feel that we are a bit too bound by the ethical codes, the formalities, the rules and regulation stuff blah blah. That doesn’t mean that I wanna live like a Barbarian but all I want is my utmost freedom.

Freedom from greed, freedom from want, freedom of speech and full freedom of expression, freedom from guilt, freedom from the illogical social values, freedom of actions, freedom from cruelty, freedom from abuse, freedom from fears, freedom from hatred and most of all the Freedom to Be Yourself.

Okay.. Generally if we talk about Freedoms .. We’ve gotta talk about the four of them. Freedom from want, freedom of speech, freedom of Worship and freedom from Fears. And for the record the “freedomss” in post name is not misspelled .. I just felt like writing it this way … FREEDOMSSsSSSSSssssssssss .. Because we need loads of them 🙂 .

Whether we have them here or not .. this is actually another discussion. But what I am trying to share here are a few beautiful paintings. While surfing on the internet for several hours I had a blog topic in my mind but eventually when I came across these paintings my mind changed and I decided to share them first as they are simply priceless. They were originally made for Four Freedoms Art Contest held at the Norman Rockwell Museum.

1. Freedom of Speech:

The most inspiring paintings that I found was in this category. May be because generally I consider it the most important form and need of freedom.


This freedom of speech’s first lessons start from our very home. If our elders teach us this way we will be able to stand up against whatever comes in our way.


Do people and society really influence our thoughts and speech?


I don’t think so


2. Freedom from Want:

Previously I said freedom of speech is most important but when I came across paintings on this topic I just couldn’t decide which one to prefer.. Freedom of speech OR freedom from want?? … I am still confused.
Since these paintings are from Ethiopian artists so the main thing that they depict in this category is the “Hunger” .. It’s so heart breaking for me but these paintings should be titled as “Freedom from hunger”.





3. Freedom of Worship:

Humans living all around the world in any part of it have the equal right to choose and practice whatever religion and belief they choose. This is written theoretically in so many of the books but unfortunately the discrimination, the indifference, the prejudice still exists in the hearts of a few .. May be those few are seen everywhere or may be I am so pessimistic to see the goodness in all of them. But unfortunately what I see and hear on television tells me that.



4. Freedom from fear:

This is the freedom from my own agony. My own thoughts that haunt me, follow me and will continue to do so because there’s a beast; a demon inside everyone. ( I wanna have the truth, I wanna shelter you but with the beast inside there’s no where we can hide. No matter what we do we still are made of greed, this is my kingdom come, this is my kingdom come .. Don’t get too close it’s dark inside; it’s where my demons hide it’s where my demons hide …. Ohh I am so in Love with this song)


But after that with all the demons you can never forget that a hell of goodness resides within me. Sometimes I just need to explore it for myself.


And when the demons and angels are all at rest.


The Threshold to Dream …

A week ago few of my friends planned a hangout together and on our way back the sun was slowly moving down towards its set. I can’t keep my eyes off the sky every time it happens. I can sit and stare at the sky, the sun for hours and hours until it’s all dark. A friend of mine noticed my eyes and said;

“Sunsets always seem very depressing to me, I dunno why but they drag away every pinch of energy that I am left with. When I was a kid and I was told to draw something in  my drawing classes I always use to draw sunrise, many of my classmates preferred drawing sunsets but they were depressing”

Apart from the fact that there is always a difference in opinions, I still exclaimed: “Sunsets …. And depressing???? …. I can never think like that”. I was among those students who would sacrifice my lunch breaks just to make a sunset on a piece of paper, who would spend hours and hours just rubbing the yellow and orange color on paper to make a color sequence like the ones during sunset.

I live near a beach so I frequently get a chance to see the sunsets and sunrise (Okay! Lets just say once in a week for sunset because I am mostly sleeping at that time … And then lets just say once in a month for sunrise as I am sleeping at that time as well 😛 ). I am not at all an outgoing person so despite my immense love for sunsets I still don’t prefer visiting the beach to enjoy the entire view, I rather prefer being fascinated by watching it through a window or the terrace.

Finally one day my mom forced me to go for a walk with her along the beach side. Although I hate going for a walk or exercising still the reason why I went was only the SUNSET. I mean i am just 39kgs at an age of 21.. So I don’t actually quality for the exercise thing OR do I?? ..I don’t think so …. I decided to go but only if my mom walks alone and allow me to roam around the beach all by myself.

As I thought and as expected .. I stood near the shore watching the sun till it seemed to touch the earth with all its glory and all its might. Initially it seemed somewhat like this

The Nature painted it Right.


They say introverts are nature loving but is there anybody on earth who doesn’t Love nature?? … I don’t think so.

I didn’t had much time except just an hour to enjoy what i thrived for. And yes the most fascinating part of sunset just lasts for hardly 15-20 minutes. A few things in life are not meant to stay for long, and this uniqueness enhances their preciousness. You know they’ll be gone but you are still willing to stay, you still long, you still have a deep desire for them, you still can’t stay away and you just can’t pretend to walk away.

The sky grew darker and darker with time spreading the beautiful shades of oranges and yellows as it descended downwards. It seemed more like a painting but it wasn’t. The smoky white shades of clouds on the sky seemed more like paint strokes and I so wished that some day I will be able to make a Perfect Fascinating Sunset like this. But no matter how much a human struggles he/she can never ever create what nature has already created. Humans can only mimic. Humans can only discover … It’s the nature , It’s the Lord which invents .. Humans only discover what’s already been created.

Beauty as I see.
Beauty as I see.

I see a whole new world … a rush of thoughts … an urge to learn, to discover while observing sunsets. It’s not just a game of colors and the sun moving up and down, It has it’s own roots it’s own hidden meaning.

I have a hundred thoughts.
I have a hundred thoughts.

Now it’s up to the other person to interpret it the way they want, the way they think.

I have a hundred things going on in my mind while watching sunsets. They remind me of hope .. a hope to find the way to leap, to leap,to creep, to crawl round a doubtful way.

It gives me a sense of commitment. A silence commitment that says “Although I am leaving but I’ll be back right away”, It fulfills its words every morn and there is not even a single day when it betrays.

A few things are not merely seen they are FELT. The thing that appeals and attracts you the most to beauty is the fact that it penetrates your soul.

There is nothing more musical than a sunset. He who feels what he sees will find no more beautiful example of development in all that book which, Alas, musicians read but too little – The Book of Nature.

– Claude Debussy.

The sunsets give me a sheer determination … The courage of resilience, the ability to stand and follow whatever is meant for you.

It gives a last indication to find your way before darkness prevails and blocks your vision.

They remind you that no matter how lost you feel today .. There’s always a tomorrow, for hoping has no end.

They give you a chance to commit, for nights are meant for promises. (Mmm … I can probably write a poem on this line … But somewhat later)

There’s a reason sunsets are timeless and constant standbys of poets, writers and romantics — they’re inspiring. Mahatma Gandhi observed this power when he said, “When I admire the wonders of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, my soul expands in the worship of the creator.”

They make you feel that the time has slowed down. It’s not that the clock stops, its just that your perception of time slows down.

They give us a Threshold to Dream , a Threshold to hide .. For darkness is where we all hide.

They force all life forms to go back to where they belong, For it’s never too late to go home.

It's never too late to go Home.
It’s never too late to go Home.

 Weekly Writing Challenge: Threshold


He who feels what he sees will find no more beautiful example of development in all that book which, alas, musicians read but too little – the book of Nature.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/c/claudedebu204275.html#tOrwGg6ddak39QCr.99

Does Grandma have a cell phone in Heaven??

Few people in life can never be forgotten and can never be replaced. The place that they hold in your heart is sacred, immortal and will remain there until your last breath. Its like their memories have made a temple within your heart which forces you to burst into tears every time you try to try to embrace it. The memories are CRUEL existences, whenever you strike them they simply hit you back even harder.

The more dear a person is to you, the more cruel are his memories.missing

You hold that special place that can force me to do anything — Anything in the world to get you back. Alas! It’s just that the words are all meaningless and nothing in the world can be done to bring back somebody who’s just not here, who is just centuries apart, who can’t hold you can’t hear you can’t feel you… Who has Died years ago.

I wish I had a way; a means to hear your voice just for a second. For once now for the last time in my life I wish I could hold your feeble hands. For once just to tell you what I’ve never told you before. Just to tell you my strange ways to express Love; laughing loudly when you used to snore all night, how special I felt when you used to get angry on those who made fun of me, Yeah I went to those people again and again but I never intended to tease you I went there so they could make fun of me, I went there so that I could see you getting angry on them again … I went there to feel special.

When you raised hands to pray for my father I wished you and my parents would pray like this for me as well. I wanted to tell you I never want to loose you but guess what? I’ve lost you already.

I wish I could see you.
I wish I could see you.

Does Grandma Have a Phone Number in Heaven?
Grandma went to Heaven,
But I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I feel down,
I need her right away,
Operator can you tell me how
To find her in this book?

Is heaven in the yellow part,
I don’t know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too,
At night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes,
But I really don’t know why.

Maybe if I call her,
She will hurry home to me.
Is heaven very far away,
Is it across the sea?
She’s been gone a long, long time
She needs to come home now!

I really need to reach her,
I simply don’t know how.
Help me find the number please,
Is it listed under ‘Heaven’?
I can’t read these big words,

I’m sorry operator,
I didn’t mean to make you cry,
Is your tummy hurting too,
Or is there something in your eye?
If I call my Lord maybe they He’ll know.
Grandma said when we need help that’s where we should go.

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