People die. My grandfather passed away. I am not sure if I have processed it well or not at all. A life that started in a mother's arms, in a remote village. A kid who must have been innocent, cute or naughty. A young man who decided to leave the farms and see the city life. A man who married and had to see some of his children die at a young age. A father of four sons who decided to bring his family to the city to give his children better opportunities in life. A man who saw his sons marriages. A grandfather to eight grandchildren from 2 to 28 years old. He began a family tree which started from a village. He gave his son the platform to become an engineer. His grandson studied in some of the best colleges of the country and has been to other countries too. It was all built on the base of that one man. This is not an eulogy. I don't think I can do justice to it. This is just an astonishment at how much a man achieves in his lifetime and how many stories might still be hidden in his heart when he takes his last breath.
Monday, January 18, 2016
Not an Eulogy
People die. My grandfather passed away. I am not sure if I have processed it well or not at all. A life that started in a mother's arms, in a remote village. A kid who must have been innocent, cute or naughty. A young man who decided to leave the farms and see the city life. A man who married and had to see some of his children die at a young age. A father of four sons who decided to bring his family to the city to give his children better opportunities in life. A man who saw his sons marriages. A grandfather to eight grandchildren from 2 to 28 years old. He began a family tree which started from a village. He gave his son the platform to become an engineer. His grandson studied in some of the best colleges of the country and has been to other countries too. It was all built on the base of that one man. This is not an eulogy. I don't think I can do justice to it. This is just an astonishment at how much a man achieves in his lifetime and how many stories might still be hidden in his heart when he takes his last breath.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Stories
I love telling stories. I love hearing them too. But writing them becomes tedious. Hopefully, someday I will have the zeal for writing them as much as I have about creating them. Until then, I will keep trying to find inspiration to write however it may come.
In the meantime, please read this little piece. Inspired by this Writing Prompt from Reddit.
[WP] You are a powerless human who is known to be the source of all superpowers in Earth. To end all conflicts, heroes are out to kill you. Meanwhile, the villains protect you.
I present to you - Inertia:
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