She looked most beautiful

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Her close family and friends dressed her up in red and gold. The long gold earrings gently dangled on either side of her soft face. The red lehenga hugged her slim figure perfectly.

She conveyed to one of her friends ” I’m getting nervous. The time to leave is coming near.”  Her friend tried to calm her anxious nerves.

Today was the day she was getting married. She had to start a new journey and she had to travel an unknown path that she had never traversed before. 

She was deaf to the noise, the hustle bustle and the chaos that was surrounding her.  She sat in her room, ready to leave any minute to take her vows.

Sitting in her room, she stared outside through the window and she could see the leaves swaying to the gentle breeze. Strange thoughts flashed through her mind. As the gentle breeze gushed into her room through the window and brushed her tender face, she felt a calm and peace within.

One of her cousins came running into her room. ” It’s time to leave, ” she said. While she arose and gracefully walked to begin her new journey, she looked most beautiful.

This post is in response to write tribe’s  Wednesday’s prompt – She looked most beautiful.

History repeating itself

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Kevin was so thrilled to see his talented twenty year old son Ronan, perform live on stage amongst thousands.

The occasion sent him down memory lane. He recollected a day when he accompanied his little son to a  sweet shop. While stepping out  Ronan’s attention was grabbed by a steel waste bin. He spontaneously began playing drums on it.  Kevin was taken aback, because it was his dream to become a musician which was not fulfilled.

Today his son was a famous vocalist and drummer. Ronan  had fulfilled his father’s  dream.  A proof that history had yet again repeated itself.

This fictional post is written for write tribe 100 words on Saturday in response to the picture prompt provided by lovely Vidya Sury

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Gratitude is happiness

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Gratitude can well be described as a feeling of thankfulness and peace. It’s being grateful for all the things, people, and gifts we are blessed with in our lives. When we cultivate this feeling we set ourselves free as then we are not bound to anything in the world that represses us. We make peace with ourselves and our surroundings. We start appreciating our blessings and take delight in lighter things in life.

 Gratitude can change our lives forever. The feeling of being grateful for all the things we are bestowed with itself gives us peace and harmony.

People whose hearts are full of gratitude and appreciation are truly beautiful. People with gratitude forgive and forget and just focus on the positive aspects of their lives. 

This virtue can be practiced every day in our own lives. There are many who keep a gratitude journal. You may ask what is a gratitude journal ? It’s a journal or a diary where you can list the things that you are grateful for. One can make this a daily ritual by writing about the things they are grateful for in their lives.  It’s also a great way to teach kids to appreciate what they have.

Here is my list – I’m grateful for

* being born into this world and having an opportunity to experience life in all its forms.

* For enjoying health which is more valuable than materials or wealth.

* For being blessed with loving Parents who have guided and supported me in the best way possible. 

* For being blessed with a loving sister and a caring brother. They have been my mentors.

* For a caring and loving husband who has been my greatest supporter and with whom I have to cross the journey called life.

* For a naughty but affectionate son. My constant companion !

* For all the relatives and genuine friends (real & virtual) who are far and near and have been and still part of my life.

* For being lucky enough to express and share myself with the world by God given opportunities through creativity, talent and inspiration. 

* Above all I’m thankful for just being me.

Image courtesy – Google

This post is a part of Living gratitude series hosted by Corinne Rodrigues.

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