A light in the darkness

Created by: Canva Every rising sun of December 2025 brings the chilling breeze which says, "It's time to say goodbye." This goodbye has many things to say. We often do not find time to reflect on it but with BlogchatterWrapParty, we preserve this time as well as memories.  So, the second chapter of the wrap party is the plot twist of 2025—share one unexpected thing that changed your year creatively or personally. PLOT TWIST 2025 I was looking to transition to a new job. I applied for two posts; one was a good one, and the other one was a little less good. I wished to get the good one, but it did not happen, and the less good one was given to me. This was a kind of step back. I took the call and stepped back in this post. In the beginning, the path seemed challenging, as it was not in sync with what I wanted. I patiently endured it and waited for the right time. I got that moment after 3-4 months, when I spoke in detail about the strategic improvement plan. Everyone apprec...

  T The journey with Blogchatter has always been a blessing year after year. This year, even though I had been too engaged with various other commitments, the Blogchatter team has kept us all united with all their creative workouts.  So, as we approach the year-end, the Blogchatterwrap party remains the perfect time to preserve all our memories and say thank you to the Blogchatter team. It is time now to begin my wrap-up party with Blogchatter. CHAPTER 1 This chapter asks us to give a title to the year we are about to finish. Title: 2025: The Silver Lining Blurp: Life is a mixture of good days and bad days and nothing we can ignore. Bad days teach us lessons, and good days carve memories. None of us want these hardships, but still we have to live them. Amidst these dark days, even the slightest silver linings give meaning and direction to our sinking lives. Grabbing these silver lining moments weaves the bright to the heaven of our achievements.  This post is for #Blogch...

 This poem is inspired by Mary Oliver's poem " The Summer Day ." I have borrowed 1, 4, 11, 16-19 Who made the world? With different skin and structure living together in this cosmic aperture fulfilling their own called ventures; amidst them all I found one such friend—the grasshopper. This grasshopper, I mean— one with a green coat, long green hopping appendages and bright bulging globe with compounded lens covering wider panes; often seen taking leaps from one green blade to another. Donned in humbleness it approached with folded limbs offering a prayer wish. So, please don't question what is it searching for among the green blades or basking on a green. Sometimes daydreaming and wandering in thoughts might seem waste of time and a useless deed for a fast-paced world of ours. Don't be blinded by these standards which are nowhere universal; for every individual is unique with unreplicable idiosyncrasy that leads them into their generativity. Now, once I know this ...

I was stuck in the middle of another poem and could not think much, so I shifted to this poem. This poem is inspired by Robert Frost's poem " Fire and Ice ." I have borrowed a few words from lines 3 and 5 of the original poem.  Fear of fire, flare like a wildfire where the world will end in flames without having been tasted my desire  I could feel the pain of perishing twice; putting me on wheels to seek  something that cools and preserves like the ice world curled in ivory while their stick-to-itiveness is as sharp as knife piercing every depth for freezing point  has no limit.  ©water2025 31.10.2025. This post is a part of  Blogchatter Half Marathon 2025

 This post is inspired by Rumi's poem " Let go of your worries ." I have borrowed a few of the words from the poem. O you leech of worries clear off the space you perched on and sucked the executive functions it is ordained on. It's high time now O you son of man, pour on your salt of faith draining off the moistures  leach of worries were clothed behold yourself,  O son of man and  know when the leech of worries sticks, transforming the molecular structure of cognition backsliding on a path you never wished to walk Lick of leech or the like of your insight switch the discerning key lies in your soul. Are you able to hear its call? Not a shout not so clamorous but a soft whisper like that of a casper If ghosts could have a voice its noise would be of choice, because it's going to bring something the world couldn't sing because between worry and peace is this single difference: worry is natural, while peace is supernatural. ©water2025 6.11.2025 This post is a p...

  I feel this poem deserves a presence in my blood. This poem is inspired by Rabindranath Tagore's poem " Where the mind is without fear. " I have borrowed  A mind without fear flaps its wings in gear until it fills the air where knowledge is free fare. A mind without fear is the world  that hasn't been broken up  into fragile fragments by the narrow domestic walls It is the world of words bubbling from the ocean of truth Where tireless striving sculpts the humanoid of perfection whose reflection is the clear stream of reason  which hasn't lost its vision in the dreary desert sand of dead habit rather, it's the place where the mind is led forward by thee into an ever-widening thought  incubating into materializing action O how I long to see  my students reach this niche where heaven of freedom is no miss but a grounded bliss O how I desire to witness my family and friends carve this ambry where fear flees forever as certitude holds clever. ©water2025 7...

A sonnet also needs to be part of my half marathon, as I am fond of Wordsworth’s sonnets. I chose Sonnet 73 . I have borrowed a few lines from the original poem. Behold me close in hours when darkness rules and yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which air-kiss numbing gale, where melodious music that sweet birds sang. In me, as thou see'st anile, through flashback As youngness of her fadeth in the west, and blanket of light slowly crawled back in coat of death's second self, swaddle in rest. In me, what thou see'st the glow of such fire as it lay on the ashes of her youth, and the death-bed whereon it must expire, consumed her as she retires from her growth. The turns of life earn her the life-time pride while senescence moonwalks her heyday's ride. ©water2025 26/11/2025-9/11/2025 This post is a part of  Blogchatter Half Marathon 2025