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around the hut gathered a crowd
the Englishman had made them proud
by taking an Indian wife.

what kinda man he could be
a white skin yet unhesitatingly
embraced a native's life.

they viewed him with awe
to his kin a flaw
living and loving in a thatched house.

he was a bishop's son
that made an alien land his own
and Kosibai, a Gond woman, his spouse.
Verrier Elwin (1902-1964), one of the rare European anthropologists to assimilate into non-European society in order to have a thorough understanding of the other peoples. An Oxford-educated theologian turned anthropologist, born into the family of a clergyman, Elwin joined the Christian Service Society mission to India in 1927. In the course of his proselytising, he converted himself to an ‘Indian’.
Gond, tribal hill people of central India.
I come to life
when the rain stops
and the sun
fires a light in me

my pearly heart
beats happily
swaying with the wind's song

your life would be forever long

I glisten in the belief

a raindrop on a leaf
inspiration: my cover photo
Ringing,
Why is it ringing?
Why is it that all I hear is ringing?
Why couldn't it be singing?
Why couldn't I hear the smooth jazz or the weeping lullaby of songs?
Why couldn't it be the sweet nightmares of songs that have been sung?
Ringing,
Why is it ringing?
Why couldn't it be you?
Where did you go suddenly and out of the blue?
Why couldn't it be you who is with me?
Instead all I hear is this ringing.
Ringing,
Why is it ringing?
Saw a challenge and decided to do it, my ears are ringing
 Jan 2015 GitacharYa VedaLa
Lina
I don't always know what I want.
I can't always love who I am.
But how can one love themselves...
If no one has loved them?

How can one know what affection is
If it has never been shown?
Can that being give someone their heart
Indefinitely. Not merely on loan?

Is it a process? Or is it a gift?
It sure is funny, this thing we call love.
We all say it to express a feeling...
A high, maybe adoration; just a yearning of.

I'm tired of lonely days and restless nights
Pondering this thing that may just be a myth.
Just when I think it may have found me,
I wind up harder, colder...more stiff.

All of the risks I take hoping and praying.
Only end up making it harder to trust.
So I find beauty in words, in poetry, in pain.
Because if we give up on love...
We'll have to settle for lust.
 Jan 2015 GitacharYa VedaLa
Lina
If my heart was a bouquet of flowers,
The pungent smell from sitting too long would be their scent.
If life was a box of chocolates
Mine would be left with only white chocolate and mint.

If you were a type of wine,
You’d be the dry kind that burns my throat.
If our relationship was coffee,
It would be tainted with burnt espresso.

But I…I’m like a bird.
The type of bird that comes back home.
And you are the eagle.
Always wanting to be alone.

All I ask for is attention…
Love isn’t money, it’s time.
Lonely, sad, unloved…
All of these feelings are mine.

You never seem to care.
I could cry and you would laugh.
I guess I could leave again.
Just to turn around and come back.
We shouldn't leave

Our creativity

We shouldn't leave it

Once we give a break

It's hard to come back

In your dream
In your life

You have to enhance
Yourself

I wish there is no
End for creativity

Happy creating
My past cursed me as it met you lately,
And It told me henceforth you are my life,
Even if this is a curse I feel and live it as a boon.

Time is travelling eternally but I want it to stop at this moment when I have seen you..
Please time,do not follow me when I am with her.
If you are not with me,I am not there myself,
Even If I conquer the world,it wouldn't be on par with the pleasure I revelled in from loving you.
The oblique drizzling drops are piercing and drenching the life within me..which is me.
It is because of you this unbearable sweet pain.

breezed into my heart when I inhaled,but don't elude me when I exhale...
You are staring at me as if you haven't influenced me,
Love for you has erupted from nothing or perhaps from staring at your eyes.
Don't fill yourself with past,live in this moment.
I am dwelling in the dreams and the waking life is telling me that the truth is in the path of loving you..and it is showing to me as a dream.
If I call this as love,then it would be diminished before this sweet pain of loving you....
You had me at the realisation that the pain is sweet and the pain is an inseperable byproduct of love...as I love you,I also love the pain that comes along with that.....
~~~



religion is a
boxed hamburger
~~~
spirituality is
the live steer

(mooo)!

10W
soulsurvivor
I don't even like the label
'Christian'
The Romans coined the term.
It was meant to be an insult!
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