The Sun and the Sunflowers

The Sun, I feel is like a Rockstar

for the Sunflowers!

Whenever the sun moves,

the sunflowers turn towards him

and do a Mexican wave...

image courtesy: www.luigiazilli.com

With their heads held high

and their leaves like hands,

they bow down and do a \m/ to him :)

He sings and they sway and they dance,

all day long till he decides to sleep...

Comments

Anonymous said…

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

February 8, 2013 at 4:23 PM

Luigia Zilli said…

These, "Sunflowers", is a Copyrighted Image, you are not supposed to use it without permission from the artist. If you do it, at list quote the name of the artist, Luigia Zilli, and where the image is from www.luigiazilli.com. Otherwise take it down.
Thanks, Luigia Zilli, the artist who painted the image you illegally posted on your blog.

August 3, 2013 at 8:43 PM

Amruta said…

@lugia zilli

Sorry for using your image without permission. Have now mentioned the source. I found it on google images and thought that it was so lovely and was complementing my post so used it. Inconvenience is regretted. Thank you. Keep painting :)

October 11, 2013 at 1:50 PM

Amruta said…

October 11, 2013 at 1:50 PM

Hugging the Himalayas

*Crump* *Crip* *Kudum* The leaves and the twigs broke under my shoes. I was panting and puffing and sweating. Ashu dada called out, “We are almost there!” I put my head down and kept climbing until there was no more to climb. “Guys, you got to see this!” I raised my head and lost my breath. We were standing atop a hill overlooking the the magnificent snow mountains. The Dhauladhar range covered in white swept across our eyes. The sky was a true ‘sky blue’ and the sun shone on the tallest of the peaks. I was in heaven! And to prove that the cities lay on the other side cramped up like little ants. At Triund and Photograph by me :) Once I had gotten my bag in my yellow tent I sat outside and lay on my back watching the soft fluffy white clouds breeze by, taking in every bit of the snow wonder. The snow mountains looked no less than a bowl of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with choco chips...

Choti Nalu

N of #AtoZChallenge Nalu म्हणजे Nalini, my Aaji. My Aaji has a played a BIG role in my life. My Aaji (Mum's mum) and we lived together till she passed away. I got her, all for myself till the time I was twenty-one years old! She was not just my Aaji, but my roommate, my sister, my friend, my Guide, my Teacher! All rolled in one! My Aaji would often tell me stories. And some of these stories would be memories about her childhood. Whenever she narrated I would immediately be transported back in time, to the Mumbai of the late 1920's and early 1930's! My imagination would turn sepia and I would see my Aaji as a दोन वेण्याची छोटी choti Mulgi (but with my Aaji's face)! Aaji grew in the heart of Dadar. Her father taught my Aaji everything! He put her in the best school of Dadar (King George semi-English), he helped her in her studies through school, he encouraged her to sing and learn the harmonium, he taught her to cycle on the f...

The Cute Coffee Boy

It was raining. I entered the cafe disgruntled. The stupid rain had wetted by library book. And my date was running late. So here I was drenched with murk and water expected to dry off and sit in some corner reading a wet book as my date would make a late entrance. I headed straight to the counter to order a coffee. I saw no one. I yelled, “Will I have to make my own coffee?” A boy got up from under the counter and smiled apologetically, “Sorry. I will make one for you. What would you like?” I forgot what I wanted. He had twinkling puppy eyes and his lips wore a warm smile. His words seemed like a song that I didn’t want to end. He looked into my eyes intently waiting for me to speak. I wanted him. I wanted him to keep on talking to me. “I would like one hot chocolate.” “And would you like some toasties to go with it?” I wanted to say, “Whatever you say.” But I said, “Yeah cool.” Okay now keep talking. I asked, “Will you get ...

Finding I

I of #AtoZChallenge It's a classic case of 'Lost and Found!' I realized that I had often lost I and found I. Over the years it had been normal. To lose I. To find I. Eventually I always learnt something in the process! Only I didn't know when was I lost and when I was found. It was the 'butterflies in the stomach' feeling that I always got. Before losing I. And just before finding I. Did I look forward to getting lost? Or did I...

First School

F of #AtoZChallenge My first school was Yashomandir. At age four. It was a Nursery school in Mulund East. The uniform was a red pinafore with a white shirt. My mum would fold a handkerchief in a triangle and pin it (with a safety pin) on the left-hand side. My school name-badge would be pinned on top of it. The Principal of our Yashomandir was Teacher-Aaji. I never made an effort to know her real name because for me she was Teacher-Aaji. Whenever I meet her, I still address her Teacher-Aaji. She was a tall, pathicha kana taath (spine-straight) woman who had the looks of a commanding yet a kind Principal. My class teacher's name was Rita Teacher. My memory of walking down the street to Yashomandir is fresh to the extent that I still remember how the sunshine felt, how I hopped and skipped to school holding my Aaji's hand, the warm breeze that flowed, the hide and seek the sun played through the shady trees. I even ...

The Yellow Butterfly

Search This Blog