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Flowering

The flower doesn’t dream of the 🐝

It blossoms and the 🐝 comes

– Rumi

Quote of Rumi

Photo credit: Anita Bacha

These pictures were clicked by me last July at Borehamwood in England.

The A1 shooting group in Borehamwood is a family-run clay target shooting facility offering English Sporting, Olympic Trap and Helice.

Every summer, I visit the shooting ground with my family for the pleasure of holding a shotgun, and to enjoy a walk in the countryside.

I was happily surprised to find bumblebees in a bush on a sidewalk.

I stopped with my IPhone and caught some beautiful pictures of bumblebees romancing with flowers, undisturbed by the deafening sound of shooting. They were peaceful and happy, totally ignorant of the world around them.

The flowers, I observed, were not budding, new blooms or half blooms or full blossoms for that matter but withering flowers, some had lost their petals and others were dying.

Yet, see the magic of Nature, bumblebees were swarming around them, thirsting for their nectar.

Probably Nature wants to teach us a lesson, I thought, about women.

A woman, like a flower, never aged.

Education

Education begins at home.

I was happy to learn that I sold the first copy of my children’s book,The Princess and the Crow,within few days it was put for sale on the online store Amazon.

The customer lives in Parlika, a village in Rajasthan, known as the birth place of Hindi poetry writers and shayari composers .

In the picture below, children are reading at home. Home is where education begins. When we teach our children to read and write, we open their eyes to the beautiful people and things in the whole world around them.

The second picture is that of the Noble Prize Winner of Literature in 1913, Rabindranath Tagore.

‘The highest education is that which does not merely give us information but makes our life in harmony with all existence.’ Rabindranath Tagore

Anita Bacha


SPRING IS HERE

Spring break

Anita Bacha

With a magic splash of fresh paints,

Trees and plants,
Grim and dark,
With a spark,
Into emerald green, are changed,
Donned is the sky in glistening blue,
Splendid and meek, the golden sun,
Flirts jauntily,
Budding flowers kissing delicately,
Coaxing beauty in the fun;
As spring plays with colors,
With the melodious songs of birds,
With the waltz of cheery butterflies,
With the noble heart of man,
New hopes, like fresh petals unbolt,
Blossom gaily in the garden of life .
– Anita Bacha –

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The Night Train of Nagaur

How to tell you,

What is more painful than a blast in the ear,

More painful than a suppressed tear,

More painful than the whistle of a train,I hear;

How to tell you,

Nothing is more painful than your leave,

Feigning that without you I can live;

How to tell you,

What is a beloved without the lover,

Or a lover without the beloved,

Or me without you, or you without me;

How to tell you,

What is the sky without a moon,

Or a moon without the sky,

Or me without you, or you without me.

Anita Bacha

Photo credit -Rajesh Swami

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