My Soul Has Wings; It Will Arise Again From The Pandemic 2020! Rashmi Singh

My Soul Has Wings; It Will Arise Again From The Pandemic 2020

The humdrum of life is always so unsettling- this is what I always thought. 

'Sorry, I won't be able to make to the get-together, as I have so many works pending and they need special attention.' This had become a monotonous repetitive excuse of mine for almost everyone. Though, at times it was not an excuse but a stark reality. Coming back home from work, late, I hardly had any strength left to go out. I have always managed all of my problems alone. Happiness has been always elusive to me but I have done my best to pull it to me despite all odd factors coiled around my life.

 But what has happened in these few days is beyond the zone and arena of all Astrologers, Geologists, Scientists, Priests etc. Whose playground is this then? We had taken life for granted! Now we all are quarantined, isolated. Why we are fearing another man? Isn't it pretty devastating?

 I, in my isolation, seek to come out to the banks of a river and give my soul a breather! But I know I can't. Physically, I am trying to cope up but mentally, I am in a pool of gloom. I wish I could have flown to everywhere I  didn't! I wish, I was more open to life and lived it to the hilt!

But yes, I need to forget, what's gone and should not repent! I was about to meet my son in Italy. We had planned a vacation. I had to meet him... This vacation was a gift from a God but taken away from  God only! My heart cried because my children had set their hearts on it!  The Pandemic took away this happiness from me...I had thought, I would be meeting my son after a year, giggling, enjoying the moments...My visa was done and I was so looking forward to this trip. But now I appreciate that we all are safe in this pandemic.

Maybe, I am not so rich, maybe I don't have a perfect life but my children are safe and this actually should be the priority at this hour and I appreciate this!  I am thankful to almighty for making me realize that silver linings are found amidst dark and thunderous clouds. I am thankful to him for making me realize, if we are safe in these times, rest all things are a bonus!

COVID 19, has shown me the naked truth of human life. We are nothing but puppets, dancing to the tune of nature's will. Those who believed, money could buy everything probably have gone wrong this time. 

Many of our frontline warriors of COVID 19 have succumbed to the vicious and venomous fangs of this lethal biological Virus, being termed as 'weapons' by some! My heart bleeds for them and I salute them and their families. Humanity is still alive and 'empathy' is just not a word! It exists in real! 

The path ahead is misty, unclear, undefined. We are stuck in an ocean of uncertainty. We are not aware, what tomorrow holds for us but yes, let us pray to that power which is surely in our Universe- to make us extremely strong to combat the onslaughts of this unknown enemy! 

Our Willpower only can save us. Our Willpower is the magic wand acting as a medicine against this virus.  Yes, My soul has wings, it will rise again! Lockdowns, quarantines, Coronavirus can do nothing to us if we start respecting nature and reduce our hunger for MORE! This want of MORE has led us to NOWHERE!

There is no vaccine, no medicine to fight this deadly disease! We have to stay locked but the food? The food which is supplied to us- are they free of infections? Infections can come stealthily and slyly from any hidden crevices, destroying our peace and life. Circumstances are unknown and out of our reach. Hence, please do away from all negativities.

 I wonder, why some people are against if someone is posting videos of gymming, cooking etc. Please, we all have the right to live the way we want.

 I understand the plight of daily wagers and many who are struggling to survive but can we go out and help them? Can our not doing exercises or not studying online help them? The only way to help is to give donations. Yes, donate freely, especially if God has bestowed you with money. Release the salary of your staff, at least for the period they have worked, and further too if you are taking work from them. If you are not able to, give them a clear picture- support them to build their lives. The Chakra of Karma will come back again. Please do not get yourself entangled in this chakra. Do good from one hand and get the 'goodness'! from the other.

 My Soul Has Wings; It Will Arise Again

It shall fly and perch on a piece of sky

Or dive deep into the blueness of the ocean

Gauging the depth of its heart

It will twinkle with the stars

The Lockdown can't shatter its wings...

My soul will join with yours-

To bring the light of willpower

And you shall also soar high 

By penning your beautiful thoughts

Breaking the spikes of Lockdown...

 My Soul Has Wings; It Will Arise Again From The Pandemic 2020

 #StayHome #StaySafe! 

Rashmi Singh

धूप के बाद छाँव और दुख के बाद सुख यही जीवन का सार है। हमे इस बात को अच्छी तरह से समझ लेना चाहिए कि जीवन मे कोई भी चीज़ हमेशा एक समान नही रहती हैं। वक़्त के साथ सब कुछ बदलता है।चाहे कितनी भी बड़ी मुसीबत हो और कैसा भी वक्त हो,सब कुछ एक समय के बाद जरूर बदलता है 

My Soul Has Wings; It Will Arise Again From The Pandemic 2020

Author Interview- Rashmi Singh

RP: What is the core premise of your latest release- ‘The Memsaheb?
RS: To take my readers on a journey unexplored. Common love stories, like, ‘I love you’ types can be written by anyone and being light reads, these sell well also but my heart’s desire is unique- my heart ventures on those paths which are not thoroughfares. ‘The Memsaheb’ leads you to a picturesque journey of a Nawab’s Kingdom. The evolution of a very young girl into ‘The Memsaheb’ and hidden dark stories in every crack and fissures of Indian Palaces making you want more- this is the core promise of this book. Every minute details of survival is captured. Being a racy read, it leaves you in a whirlwind of emotions.

RP: Is it a real story or a fiction? Did such a Memsaheb exist?
RS: The story starts from a real incident which happened in November 1913 at Mangadh hills where thousands of Bhils were killed. It can be called a fiction intricately woven around some gruesome real incidents. But you’ll have to read the book to know about its passion quotient.  I never compromise with my writing flair and what society will say! The book will leave you breathless!


RP: Does criticism or a negative feedback affect your writing process?
RS: In fact it makes me happy because criticism and negative feedback means that I and my work have been noticed! There’s another advantage- if it is an honest feedback, you come to know of your loopholes. But if it is done intentionally, then also I am happy that someone out there is jealous of me- this means I am successful. Tell me- is anyone bothered about a dead tiger?

TO READ MORE VISIT:  http://www.drroopleen.com/author-interview-rashmi-singh/

Young Minds Speak!

Students of Personality Development Classes,(For Students up to Class 6th) Speak Their Minds About How They Perceive Nature...

 Oh Flowers!

  Flowers! Oh! what  wonderful flowers,

  Fragrant, smiling flowers,

  Colourful cheerful flowers,

  Huge variety of flowers.

  Flowers! Oh! what  wonderful flowers...

  Useful and helpful flowers....

  Bees, Butterflies all your friend
  Buzzes the nature
  with loveliness..

  Sign of beauty and symbol of love...
  Are  you my friend...

 Through good and bad time,

  Flowers are always ours.... Devansh Kaushik, Std IV MVN Sector 17, Faridabad.

.

CHAPTER 5; The Untold Story Of Arundhati And The Black Emperor by Rashmi Singh

CHAPTER 5; The Untold Story Of Arundhati And The Black Emperor

The night had become interminably long, but then Narsimhavarman had to blame himself.
If only he had, in an impetuous moment, risen from his slumber and seen that one day actually he would have to face this.
Life could never ever be normal again. He felt he should run and not give in to the desires he so desperately wanted to quash, but it was too late. He looked at her. She was there with her doe eyes, smudged with bluish green kohl. It seemed she had been crying.
The wild flowers in her hands feebly pulsating, as they lay dying, clasped in between her fingers, ripped from the warm earth that bore them, but then limp in the cold that surrounded her in foggy winter’s night, chilling her soul to its very core.
The Palace seemed to heave a sigh, with their ancient stones groaning under the weight of the ages. The sights and smells of despair were oozing from the entire magnificent room and it looked as though she was trying to drift past memories of old days.
She thought, looking at her handsome lover….

Page 45
‘I was lost...
Lost in a world of web of dreams...
But you brightened my life..
I was nothing...
You illumined my sighs....’
I was lost in the venom-laced web of sweet words...
But you kindled my thoughts…
I was just dust...
You made an idol of it...’
She glided to him gracefully, asked in Sanskrit looking deep into her lover’s eyes. “Will you love me when I get old and wrinkled?”
“More,” without losing even a second, he replied, and came closer to her, almost drowning into her deep eyes.
Bosom heaving with passion and love, she paced gently nearing the proximity.
The tinted embossed glasses of the windows glowed with the weak flickering of candle flames, catching her gaze before shifting back to the dark of the night.
She was there in all her essence to be loved by her lover... her prince.
He inhaled her pheromones as she stood beside him. ‘No, I am not going anywhere. I am going to stay here in my own kingdom. I have promised to love her always,’ he said to himself but it sounded like one of his another hollow pledges! Mahendravarman’s orders could not be evaded!
‘But can’t I defy my father? And why can’t I? After all, I am the future Pallava king, he questioned himself
PAGE 46
and tried to find the answers of his questions, half concentrating as his entire body was then throbbing for the woman breathing deeply and gazing at him with a strange maddening effect. He needed her badly. His manhood was then demanding only the unique love, shaded with lust for which he always pined.
He did want her to perform for him that night but only in bed! He felt embarrassed, almost degraded that she could do this to him. But he needed the exquisite pain; it was for this which it seemed to him, he had been living for.
Drenched in passionate sweat, he came closer to her. She looked profoundly into his eyes.
“Sivagami,” the Prince could utter only this much. His tongue was getting dry and throat choked. He was breathing hard. Narsimhavarman wanted to apologize—wanted to speak so many things but he was finding himself, enwrapped in a mesh of want, desire, duty, love…and lust.
The dasis quietly left the room drawing the beautiful long flowing heavy curtains.
She gets up and understanding what his lover wanted then, came closer to the wine scented body of the prince, and entwined her to him. Their lips met. His grip tightens on her body and she was drowned once again in an unknown world of cravings…
The maddening effect of his kisses was not letting her mind work. His hands gliding from her milky soft rosy cheeks, traversing her slender neck reached her heaving bosom. It halted there for seconds, making her shiver and journeyed down to her flat stomach stationing at her navel. He had always loved her kissing there...
PAGE 47
Sivagami had understood that her lover did not want the night to be wasted on words. She was then not able to understand her fate and destiny but wanted to squander no time on understanding it either!
She had full faith on her prince and wanted to satisfy him in all possible ways. Quietly she guided him to the bed. She had heard the Pallava king’s orders and had wanted to do whatever she could do for her lover. This was not their first time but it seemed to her so…
The outer garbs drifted away as he took her in his arms. The beloved of the mighty lover was that night not wearing any jewellery except a dainty silver girdle around her small waist.
“Oh you bewitching witch!” the prince spoke ruggedly—his breath harsh and passionate—his dark black eyes smouldering with seething passion. He unhooked the girdle and let it slip on the bed somewhere.
“You are mine, you understand!” he spoke, lowering himself on the soft supple body of his beloved. “Ahhh... how I want to be always with you,” he breathed inhaling the intoxicating perfume of the fresh flowers entangled in her lovely long black hair, reaching up to her waist.
Coming closer to him, he looked to her as though passions were getting freed, which were building in her core.
The amber glow flickered on her pale white skin as she lay with her hair, curling in black tendrils across her body. Her eyes were softening with his touch. He bent on her body, teasing her navel with his tongue making it travel from there to her aroused heaving womanly mounds!
PAGE 48
She took his hands and lips to her bosom—her bosom, which was creamy and soft, responding to every touch of her lover.
The prince’s hold was getting tighter on the dainty body of his beloved. His hands went to her smooth back caressing and teasing it, pushing and bringing her to himself and with a jerk, he brought her on top of him—his manhood finding its way to culminate in unique excitement and fervor.
Love was upon their lips, but it was not spoken or murmured. They probably knew their fate. Searing, burning lust drove him to this place and their ballet played on through the night.
Slowly building, touch upon touch, the tingling energy of their souls united into blazing inferno of wild hedonistic beasts, pounding and thrashing against the tides of desire and primal need.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers to her half-way through his lovemaking.
Kissing wildly her neck, he bites there purposely so the king sees them tomorrow. The king should realise how much his son loved the woman who his son had given the command that night to ride him. His son, who could win the Universe, was being won over by a woman.
He thrusts hard as though to prove the king that he hated him for his calculative ways. She groans out with pain. He is sweating.
“I am sorry,” he whispers to her, holding her back and going harder. The rhythm continues. He could see she is tired and brings her under him and takes the command. He does not want the night to end… he does not want to leave Sivagami.
PAGE 49
She cannot control this unique passion. Her love for him goes beyond reason—he knows this but everything is left unsaid as they take the night to their soul.
She is feeling his touch which melts her heart. Her glowing body never sated, exuding cooling sensations. Her electric blue aura entwines with his blood red radiance, spiralling around their writhing dance of lovemaking—the skins beneath their fevered brows feeding off the energy, as they welcome each other’s touch.
The darkness wanes but not their desire. Their thirst to spend their entire lives in each other’s arms heightens!
Their love was complete, yet incomplete as they wanted to make it again and again!
Their lust gorged, her wild yearnings stilled for a time, their souls again as one. Their bodies heaving and panting drenched in sweat seemingly satiated in the darkness of the night.
The wild flowers crushed and their fragrance intoxicating the place of their lovemaking.
After a few hours, the sun will shine once again and once again sink deep into the Krishna River but there would be no Sivagami entwining as a she-serpent to her sandalwood tree…Narsimhavarman... her life... her soul!
Slumber falls upon the satiated body of Sivagami, wrapped in Narsimhavarman’s arms. This is the comfort she had needed and had dreamed of each day where her soul had wandered alone.
He holds her like a precious gift. The fire dwindles until the only warmth is her body against his. He knows when she will wake up, he will be gone.
PAGE 50
Stirring slightly in her sleep, her warm lips brush his cheeks and ear, whispers like a warm wind upon his soul.
Left cold and lonely, he watches the sun break on a new day and quietly leaves her... deserting his beloved for his father’s sake... for his kingdom’s sake, promising himself to come back soon, not knowing that fate had something else stored in for him. He would be able to take his revenge, defeat all the mighty rulers but the corner of his heart craving for his beloved would always remain vacant!

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Gunday Review

After 'Mumbai' being stalked and looted by Dons, the Producer and Director has thought of changing the locale- so now it is Calcutta!

#GUNDAY #REVIEW! it's a concoction of all the earlier movies of #AmitabhBachhan!! #ArjunKapoor needs polishing of acting skills- he's supposed to be #THEANGRYYOUNGMAN but doesn't quite succeed. #RanvirSingh has improved his expressions but can't improve or increase his height!! tch! tch! #RanvirSingh though has flaunted his abs wildly!! #PriyankaChopra has managed well but comes after an hour. She in all scenes- even in hospital is at her sexiest best (purring in sexy voice....) -A versatile Police Inspector with a figure of 'Miss India', who puts all cabaret dancer wondering at their skills...if they are any good after all!! Loved her 'dhakai' sarees with backless stringed blouses though such blouses have been never worn by any Bengali woman in '70's!! #IrrfanKhan as usual is brilliant and his real self!

 Except one song '#TuneMaariEntriyaan' no song is catchy as such but falls in the 'nice category'. The #film overall with crisp editing can be seen once and enjoyed- no headache as such! #RashmiSingh

The Untold Story of Arundhati and The Black Emperor by Rashmi Singh

My Secret Lover by Rashmi Singh

My Secret Lover by Rashmi Singh

January 20, 2014 9:40 pm by: Sprightly Spirit Category: Celebrity Speak A+ / A-

The recent political and social upheaval has knocked out many people of their senses. How could an extremely socially active, beautiful, rich and famous woman die of an overdose of pills!

But it has happened or so they say. The postmortem reports say Sunanda Pushakar Tharoor had taken overdose of drugs which escalated her towards sudden death.  This morning I had read online that out of thirty alprax tablets, only three were left in the strips found near her. This is disheartening. A life is suddenly thrown into dangerous waves of death without any subtle reason!

Apparently she was ailing with multiple diseases and disturbed over her husband Shashi Tharoor’s ‘close relationship’ with Mehr Tarar, according to the ‘tweet war.’ But being disturbed doesn’t mean that you wipe away your name from this earth!

Tharoor met Sunanda, when he was already married (the second time). He divorced his wife Christa Giles a Canadian citizen, a civil servant who works with the United States on disarmament issues, for Sunanda. Sunanda hence probably thought that if he can drift towards her and leave Christa, he can sail towards Mehr too. This irritated her and probably unknowingly acted as a catalyst in ending her life. Shobha De has written after Pushkar’s death that Sunanda is free at last. But I do not think Sunanda Pushakar wanted to be released of Tharoor’s name and bond of love. She went to her final abode on the shoulders of her husband, lover and life- Shashi.

But I just wonder why so many secret liaisons brew? Why so many divorces for secret lovers?

But at present my sympathies and reverence to one of the most gorgeous woman and soul of this universe. RIP Sunada Pushkar! http://www.spectralhues.com/celebrity-speak/2014/01/secret-lover-rashmi-singh/

About the author

Rashmi Singh is the author of The Untold Story of Arundhati and The Black Emperor, Love’s Journey, The Fallen Love, Taming the Restless Mind and Back to School@30.