Inner Joy (A Happy Heart)

“Happy” is just a word. It doesn’t mean anything more than a random jumble of letters that I decide makes up a word. Happiness is a rush. It is also a slow burn. It comes all at once but it also builds up like a plotline with intense suspense. Everything builds up to one apex.

It can’t be something superficial, or something that only lasts for a day or two. It’s something that affects your entire life. It lasts. It burns inside of you and it doesn’t go out. That is happiness.

Happiness is a warm feeling. When we are happy we feel a sense of meaning and purpose in our lives. The journey to happiness is not achieving success or having enough things, it is not productivity or affirmation from others. The road to happiness is a life of purpose where our desires extend far beyond meeting our own needs and into the rich world of service to others.

How we feel about ourselves, the joy we get from living, ultimately depends directly on how the mind filters and interprets everyday experiences. Whether we are happy depends on inner harmony not on the controls we are able to exert over the great forces of the universe.

“The real happiness is to enjoy the scenery when on a detour.”

“Happiness is a sunbeam which may pass through a thousand bosoms without losing a particle of its original ray; when it strikes on a kindred heart, like the converged light on a mirror, it reflects itself with redoubled brightness. It is not perfected till it is shared.’’


©The Honest Fabler – Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source – Google Images

A Mother’s Wisdom

An hour past midnight.

The cold winter winds blew in through the open window & I tightened my grip on the blanket.

My room’s door was shut, the phone placed on my ear turned static. I couldn’t believe the words I just listened to.
“It’s over. I can’t be with you.”

The sentence screamed in my mind and I realized it isn’t a dream. A sudden gasp left my mouth followed by loud sobbing. I knew everyone’s asleep so I muffled my mouth in the blanket.
10 minutes. 15… 20… 30… An hour… Two? Or more? I don’t remember how & when I fell asleep. 

A heavenly morning.

All I remember is the next day my room’s door was ajar, the sunlight warming my cold face and illuminating the room with a shade of white. Everything else stood as still as it was last night, only more brighter than ever.

I wondered if I were dreaming it.
“Good morning, Alfred.” Ah, no. Not a dream. I heived a sigh as my mother entered the room.
“Good-” I choked as I witnessed my mother levitate like a feather, her feet didn’t touch the pale ground.
A halo floated over her head.
An angel.
“Shh. Calm down, Al.”
“Am I-?”
“No, you’re not dreaming. Here, I brought you nectar, it’ll ease your wounds.”
“I have no wounds.” A little pound in my heart reminded me its state. “Except for my broken heart.”
“It is for those broken pieces.” Her smile radiated happiness. Though an angel, she’s still my naïve, caring mother. I suppressed a laugh and took the silver glass.

As I touched the liquid with my tongue, I recoiled. It’s bitterness was unbearable and everything twisted and turned like a hurricane.

A bright day.

“Easy there. Sit straight, Al.” It was my mother, again. Now in her human form. I gulped down the nectar, ignoring it’s taste and I felt better.
My body, which couldn’t stop shivering, now seemed to have finally got a grip & calmed down.
“You’ll feel better.” My humanly mother, said.
“Was it a dream?”
“I reckon you were dreaming, heard you talking in sleep. Last night, you left the window open and when I entered your room, you were burning hot with fever. Tried keeping the temperature down with a wet cloth but I think my grandma’s magic soup still works the best.” Her laugh was melodic. “I overheard you last night, sorry. But it’s going to be alright, you know.”
I gave her a puzzled look, realizing only her angelic part was a dream. The tragic call was a reality.

“If people in your life want to stay, they will stay even if they have a million reasons not to. But when they don’t want to, they’ll make reasons of their own. Don’t feel bad for what happened, Al. You couldn’t change her decision. You loved her, truly, I know. Yet you are far too young to keep mourning. As you’ll grow, people will take leave from your life at every nodes. They’ll change their paths and bid you farewell. And when they do, you can’t hold on to them or you’ll lose your own balance. Get well soon, honey. I’m always there for you, a door away.”

“Mom” I called her as she stood up to leave. “Happy mother’s day.”


Post Script:

First of all, I’d love to wish a very very Happy Mother’s Day to every angel. There’s something truly heavenly about them which is why they need to respected & loved & reminded of it, everyday. :’)

Second of all, I’d like to apologize for not posting often these days. Also, The Secret Sister of Awan Alee, is at hold due to my examinations. But I promise once the exams are done I’ll be back with daily posts as usual & complete the series!

©The Honest Fabler

©Image Source – Google Images

I’m blue, I’m beautiful!

Is that what we wake up to every day?

From time immemorial, appearance has been foremost in humans’ mind. Humans are judged by their physical appearance. Thus, it is not surprising to witness mankind, especially women from all walks of life desperately try any means possible to achieve the perfect beauty.

However, beauty provides a perceptual experience of pleasure and happiness. It has no relation to features of our face or body, but rather character traits and qualities.

Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly lies to the bone.

Beauty dies and fades away, but ugly holds its own! Create and cultivate inner beauty that never fades away but grows and matures with time!
Especially women in our society need to realize this fact and change our perception of the way we see beauty. What should be regarded as requisite in someone? It could be their pleasant character traits, or some might name it as the word soul.

People with inner beauty are those that love to make peace with everyone, take care of fellow beings and try to follow the path of justice and the light of wisdom.

As beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, thus it will not be defined or appraised as easily. We always have to be a first-rate version of ourself. Once an Italian painter said,

The summation of the parts working together in such a way that nothing needs to be added, taken away or altered, and that’s you.

You are beautiful.


©The Honest Fabler – Pooja Mukherjee

©Image source- Google Images

13 Reasons Why.

There was a time when she was ashamed.

Ashamed to step out of the door.

To be judged by those eyes.

To be looked at, by those who owned the eyes.

She didn’t hate the dresses her mom chose for her, she hated wearing her own skin.

She didn’t hate being called a “slut” or a “whiny bitch”, she hated her own name.

Yet she survived.

She survived the mess her life had become, she got back up everytime she was let down.

She fought her own demons and untangled her tangled strings.

But for how long?

For how long would a heart crave for love?

For how long would a heart crave for someone to see through the window amidst the walls, built by itself?

How long….?

Post Script:

The story of Hannah Baker, live and in stereo, though a fiction, it’s the darkest and the purest one I’ve ever read/seen. It may not be your usual TV series, but it’s one that would make you re-think your world.

It’s one story that would re-shape your life.
It’s one, that would break you to millions of pieces, but only so that you’ll be prepared.
Prepared– so you know what you’ve to do when you’ve got your 13 reasons to die.


©The Honest Fabler

©Cover credits- Google Images

Remaining lives: None.

Remaining lives: None.

She gasped.
I tightened my grip.
She pleaded.
I tried not to hear her cries.
She struggled.
I didn’t like that she’s afraid.
She was tired.
I knew the climax is near, “You’ll be free.”
She turned rigid.
I saw her eyes roll up in her head, the moment had arrived.
She was pale.
Emotion, pain, heat she could feel none.
It was all because of me. Her gateway.
I was a hurdle she had to conquer.
Why did I do it, you ask?
I did it, for her.
She was in pain,
But I knew what she had to gain.
It was freedom.
And what better freedom than being in her purest form?
As a soul.
Never trapped in a body.
So, I did it for her.
I snapped my cat’s neck on a bright
afternoon of summer.


©The Honest Fabler
©Image Source- Google Images

The Secret Sister of Awan Alee – Part IV

Previous parts:

Author’s Note (Password: sister)

I

II

III


25th October 2016

Dear Scarlett,

Guess where I’m taking you to? Oh, come on! You suck at guessing. Right now we’re in a plane to Cairo, Egypt since we have a long vacation for the Diwali festival. Hoorah! That’s the good news, the better news is that mom has started running her own clinic and dad’s business is back up, too, and due to that now I’m sitting in the business class. Double-Hoorah! It is 9:06 p.m. and the flight takes roughly 6 hours but it must be 5:30 p.m. in Cairo at the moment which means that I will meet mom dad an hour or two before my birthday!

The girl sitting beside me is cute, don’t you think so? I’ll talk to her soon but for that I’ll have to say “Buh Bye” to you di. Hope our journey goes great! And just in case you get bored I’ve brought The Great Gatsby along. 😉 See ya soon.

14th November 2016

Dear Scarlett,

Last 20 days have been so much to take in! My birthday was awesome, we had dinner together and mom made me cookies along with cake (which she rarely got time to do when we lived in Syria.) Then one afternoon, I talked to mom dad about my religious views and out of the blue they seemed to understand my reasons and didn’t object me. I was so glad! But then of course things have to be balanced between good and bad. So, in the evening while I was enjoying the gentle November breeze my phone rang, it was Umair—an old friend of mine from Syria. He told me that Ayman and his family had passed away in a bombing of a mosque in our city. I’ve had been broken since then. It was a fortnight ago, now I am fine. Period.

I’m suddenly very glad to have left Syria but I feel selfish for feeling so since my childhood friend and his family passed away and I cannot even go to their funeral. I’ve been having this debate with myself since the phone call and now I’m too exhausted. Can you tell me if I am selfish or not?

16th November 2016

Dear Scarlett,

<

p data-p-id=”65536ef03d17b3697d229b3729542657″>I’m returning home! Technically, I just left home but I have a feeling that I’m returning home viz. my hostel! It feels like home there. I had been homesick and I missed hanging out with my new friends who are now equivalent to my lifelong buddies and obviously not new since we live together from August, that makes it 3 months! On the happy note, our semester is ending soon and that means more studies! I don’t think I’ll be able to write to you for a good month or two. Let’s see. I’m excited ’cause ones the exams end we’ve our fresher’s party. Yes, even I wonder what will be fresh about the fresher’s party but hey, better late than never. I’m going to doze off now. I’m out. Bye, good night.
See ya soon.


<

p data-p-id=”65536ef03d17b3697d229b3729542657″>©The Honest Fabler
©Cover credits- Google Images

One Lovely Blogger Award

One Lovely Blogger Award

A heartiest thanks to Juliana for this lovely award nomination! Do check out her amazing blog and I bet you’ll relate to every post on it!

Rules:

  1. Each nominee must thank the person who nominated them and link their blog in their post.
  2. They must include the rules and add the blog award badge as an image.
  3. Must add 7 facts about themselves.
  4. Nominate 15 people to do the award!

7 Facts About Me

  1. I like to skate.
  2. I’m a newborn fan of Heavy Metal and Rock!
  3. I love to try new food items. I don’t have any dislikes, everything edible is my favorite!
  4. I’m the only child in the family, so naturally, the most loved.
  5. I’m a good listener. The perks of being a writer, is that you’ve to learn from people. And to learn people you’ve to listen. But the best part of it? It makes you a good listener and people confide in you. *Touchwood* :’)
  6. I LOVE BOOKS. That must’ve come as a surprise.💥 (Sense the sarcasm, is needless. Hopefully)
  7. I started poems purely because I loved to rhyme. I never thought that my “thoughts” would be so meaningful unless I started making poems. Initially, I put together anything that rhymed, now, well not the same case. XD

Nominees for this award!

Riya Rajayyan(AestheticGraphy)

Aishwarya Kondvilkar(Life through eyes of a hipster)

Yassy

Sanjita(Cluster of Stars)

Sanchali(Wanderer)

Babblings Of A Nobody

Sun and Moon(Eclipse Stories)

Chaos-xD(A Glimpse of Darkness)

Harsh Jain(Fab Writings)

Sakshi (The Escapist)

Deepika

Cherry

◆ Jaismine (Thunder Poet)

Weefables

A dash of Jhaee

Suzie Does Healthy

Shreyas Mogal (An Unknown Wanderer)


Have a great day everyone!
Peace out!