#CelebrateingtheRainbow at the workplace – share your stories of Pride!
"My dear," I would tell my younger self, "let life not overwhelm you. It is an opportunity that comes once, live it to the hilt."
“My dear,” I would tell my younger self, “let life not overwhelm you. It is an opportunity that comes once, live it to the hilt.”
In the winter of my life, I sit on a patch of sunlit grass,
My thoughts inadvertently, turning to the days of yore.
Nostalgia envelops me, memories embrace me warmly
As I sit and reminisce, as I remember what once was.
If I could turn back the clock, there is so much I would say
To a much happier, more carefree, a younger myself.
‘My dear,’ I would begin, ‘let life not overwhelm you
It is an opportunity that comes once, live it to the hilt.’
‘Dream, even impossible dreams for in those yearnings
Are the paths that will guide you, be your moral tenets.
Let your fancy roam free in the azure garden of hope,
Fluttering with the cottony clouds, ebullient and jovial.’
‘Let not the burdens of relationships, the bounds of
Matrimony shackle you or tie you but instead let them
Be the roots that bind you to the soil of love and faith.
Let them be the anchor to the rope of your exploration.’
‘Seize chances, grasp opportunities, don’t shy away, nay!
Test your limits, else, how will you know your boundaries?
Craft a life filled with aspirations just rein in the ambition.
Let there be expectations but not conditions to meet them.’
‘My dear, in the spring of your life autumn shall come too
For that is the circle of life; strife follows joy, makes it ebb.
But, know this, everything is transient; life keeps spinning
So walk to your own beat but adjust, adapt to life’s flow.’
Sonal is a multiple award winning blogger and writer and the founder of a women-centric manpower search firm - www.rianplacements.com. Her first book, a volume of poetry - Islands in the stream - is slated read more...
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Can you believe this bloke compelled me to wear only saris - full time at home- till the eighth month of my pregnancy?! The excessive heat coupled with humidity made my life miserable.
Recently when I browsed an interesting post by a fellow author on this very forum I had a sense of déjà vu. She describes the absolutely unnecessary hullabaloo over ladies donning nighties and /or dupatta –less suits.
I wish to narrate how I was in dire straits so far wearing a ‘nightie’ was concerned.
I lived in my ultra orthodox sasural under constant surveillance of two moral guardians (read Taliban) in the shape of the husband’s mom and dad. The mom was unschooled and dim-witted while the dad was a medical practitioner. But he out-Heroded the Herod in orthodoxy.
Her mother pulled her hand and made her sit on the bed. “How can you behave like nothing happened, dear? Your whole life is ruined now!”
Trigger Warning: Implications of rape and assault and suicidal ideation.
“Come with me, my love.” His charming smile and mesmerizing eyes would lead anyone to walk behind him. She was different. “You need me Sirisha,” he was desperate.
“I said, get out,” she stood stubbornly.
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