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White SOMETHING I LOOK AT-176 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY THE COUNTDOWN-2 A caged bird I am Do not remember How and when I fell in love with the cage How it became my lifeline My heart and mind. How I surrendered everything I loved and relished My freedom, love and passion For a handful of the sky over And a little earth to stand on A caged bird I am Forgotten long since How to fly in the open sky. Hope to muster enough strength To ward off the initial onslaught Gather me, my tired wings and mind To venture into the forgotten domain The unapproachable splendour of the empyrean Once a winged bird Do not remember When I last flew into the blue heaven. Hope! I will find my wings and urge, love and motivation to be on cloud nine once again Smruti Ranjan Mohanty© India 2.11.2022 All Copyrights Reserved https://smrutiweb.wordpress.com/2022/11/03/something-i-look-at-176/ ©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

#GoodMorning  White SOMETHING I LOOK AT-176
BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY

THE COUNTDOWN-2

A caged bird I am
Do not remember 
How and when 
I fell in love with the cage 
How it became my lifeline 
My heart and mind.
How I surrendered everything 
I loved and relished 
My freedom, love and passion 
For a handful of the sky over
And a little earth to stand on

A caged bird I am 
Forgotten long since 
How to fly in the open sky.
Hope to muster enough strength 
To ward off the initial onslaught 
Gather me, my tired wings and mind 
To venture into the forgotten domain 
The unapproachable splendour of the empyrean 

Once a winged bird 
Do not remember 
When I last flew into the blue heaven.
Hope! I will find my wings and urge,
love and motivation
to be on cloud nine  once again 

Smruti Ranjan Mohanty©
India
2.11.2022 
All Copyrights Reserved
https://smrutiweb.wordpress.com/2022/11/03/something-i-look-at-176/

©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

#GoodMorning SOMETHING I LOOK AT-176 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY THE COUNTDOWN-2 A caged bird I am Do not remember How and when

10 Love

#Motivational

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#childhood_memories #storytelling #grandmother #Childhood #Grandma  White Grandma Stories

I still love to hear those stories narrated by my grandmother. From the starting punch line of "Once upon a time...." to the exciting finishing statement, and finally, after that, they lived happily." I used to get engrossed in every nuance of her narration.
I used to persuade her to narrate the Cinderella-type story many times. The way she used to begin was perfect, drawing me into her story.
"Once upon a time, there used to be a pretty girl who often rested her heart, mind, and soul every evening on the steps of the porch of her house after doing all household chores dumped on her by her arrogant stepmother and sisters. She knew no prince would come out of nowhere and hold her hand before taking her away. It happens only in dreams. Still, she waits for someone who wouldn't come. She knows that she is bound to continue as a puppet here. But what if, one day, her waiting pays off?"
Then my grandmother sighed deeply and expressed her wish as she looked at me: "You know, Krishna, I hope that, one day, the prince from her dream will arrive and rescue her from this hell. But none of us can predict the future."
I then raised my head from her lap and looking at her eyes, I put forward my curiosity, "Will the prince arrive, Grandma?"
"Even the gods cannot resist the glowing beauty that radiates from her, along with her pure heart—let alone a prince! Let's see."
She remarked before continuing with her story!

©Krishnan

White SOMETHING I LOOK AT-176 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY THE COUNTDOWN-2 A caged bird I am Do not remember How and when I fell in love with the cage How it became my lifeline My heart and mind. How I surrendered everything I loved and relished My freedom, love and passion For a handful of the sky over And a little earth to stand on A caged bird I am Forgotten long since How to fly in the open sky. Hope to muster enough strength To ward off the initial onslaught Gather me, my tired wings and mind To venture into the forgotten domain The unapproachable splendour of the empyrean Once a winged bird Do not remember When I last flew into the blue heaven. Hope! I will find my wings and urge, love and motivation to be on cloud nine once again Smruti Ranjan Mohanty© India 2.11.2022 All Copyrights Reserved https://smrutiweb.wordpress.com/2022/11/03/something-i-look-at-176/ ©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

#GoodMorning  White SOMETHING I LOOK AT-176
BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY

THE COUNTDOWN-2

A caged bird I am
Do not remember 
How and when 
I fell in love with the cage 
How it became my lifeline 
My heart and mind.
How I surrendered everything 
I loved and relished 
My freedom, love and passion 
For a handful of the sky over
And a little earth to stand on

A caged bird I am 
Forgotten long since 
How to fly in the open sky.
Hope to muster enough strength 
To ward off the initial onslaught 
Gather me, my tired wings and mind 
To venture into the forgotten domain 
The unapproachable splendour of the empyrean 

Once a winged bird 
Do not remember 
When I last flew into the blue heaven.
Hope! I will find my wings and urge,
love and motivation
to be on cloud nine  once again 

Smruti Ranjan Mohanty©
India
2.11.2022 
All Copyrights Reserved
https://smrutiweb.wordpress.com/2022/11/03/something-i-look-at-176/

©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

#GoodMorning SOMETHING I LOOK AT-176 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY THE COUNTDOWN-2 A caged bird I am Do not remember How and when

10 Love

#Motivational

how to start tshirt bussiness

63 View

#eidmehndidesign #maancreativeart #mehndidesigns #stylishmehndi #Videos

#eidmehndidesign #stylishmehndi #mehndidesigns #maancreativeart Description your queries- How do you draw a simple mehndi? How can I learn

99 View

I love my mom

72 View

#ಜ್ಞಾನಿ

Join my mentorship program and learn how to earn while you grow! Entrance examination

72 View

#childhood_memories #storytelling #grandmother #Childhood #Grandma  White Grandma Stories

I still love to hear those stories narrated by my grandmother. From the starting punch line of "Once upon a time...." to the exciting finishing statement, and finally, after that, they lived happily." I used to get engrossed in every nuance of her narration.
I used to persuade her to narrate the Cinderella-type story many times. The way she used to begin was perfect, drawing me into her story.
"Once upon a time, there used to be a pretty girl who often rested her heart, mind, and soul every evening on the steps of the porch of her house after doing all household chores dumped on her by her arrogant stepmother and sisters. She knew no prince would come out of nowhere and hold her hand before taking her away. It happens only in dreams. Still, she waits for someone who wouldn't come. She knows that she is bound to continue as a puppet here. But what if, one day, her waiting pays off?"
Then my grandmother sighed deeply and expressed her wish as she looked at me: "You know, Krishna, I hope that, one day, the prince from her dream will arrive and rescue her from this hell. But none of us can predict the future."
I then raised my head from her lap and looking at her eyes, I put forward my curiosity, "Will the prince arrive, Grandma?"
"Even the gods cannot resist the glowing beauty that radiates from her, along with her pure heart—let alone a prince! Let's see."
She remarked before continuing with her story!

©Krishnan
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