Life is like a game of cards. ... Jawaharlal Nehru ---- AKSHR

 

Life is like a game of cards. 

The hand you are dealt is determinism; 

the way you play it is free will. 

Jawaharlal Nehru

 

The dealt hand, life's capricious game,

A deck of fate, a whispered name.

With cards of joy, and cards of pain,

A shuffling world, a constant strain.

 

The Ace of Hearts, a love so true,

The King of Spades, a shadowed hue.

A Queen of Diamonds, bright and bold,

A Jack of Clubs, a story told.

 

Each turn, a choice, a risk to take,

A whispered hope, a silent wake.

The Joker wild, a twist unseen,

A sudden turn, a life serene.

 

The hand you're dealt, a fate you bear,

A silent pact, beyond compare.

To play the game, with heart and might,

And face the odds, both day and night.

 

The Queen of sorrow, tears may fall,

The King of triumph, answers all.

The Ace of courage, stands so tall,

A whispered prayer, answering all.

 

So play your hand, with grace and art,

Embrace the twists, within the heart.

For in this game, of cards and fate,

A masterpiece, we're all to create.

Confess your fault when you are wrong .... Unknown ---- AKSHR

 

“Respect the old when you are young. 

Help the weak when you are strong. 

Confess your fault when you are wrong 

because one day in life you will be old, 

weak, and wrong.” 

— Unknown

“You have all the power and all the talent and skills within you ..... Unknown ---- AKSHR

 

“You have all the power and all the talent and skills 

within you to be or do whatever you want, 

even if the odds appear to be against you.” 

— Unknown

Being kind is not always easy when dealing with rude people. ... Unknown --- AKSHR

 

“Being rude is easy. 

It does not take any effort and is a sign of weakness and insecurity. 

Kindness shows great self-discipline and strong self-esteem. 

Being kind is not always easy when dealing with rude people. 

Kindness is a sign of a person who has done a lot of personal work 

and has come to a great self-understanding and wisdom. Choose to be kind.”

— Unknown

“May I live like the lotus at ease in the muddy water.” – Unknown --- AKSHR

 

“May I live like the lotus at ease in the muddy water.”

– Unknown

“I am a museum full of art but you had your eyes shut” --- RUPI KAUR --- AKSHR

 “I am a museum full of art but you had your eyes shut”

“We have been dying since we got here and forgot to enjoy the view -live fully” --- Rupi Kaur --- AKSHR

 

“We have been dying since we got here 

and forgot to enjoy the view -live fully”

“Despite knowing they won’t be here for long they still choose to live their brightest lives -sunflowers”--- Rupi Kaur ---- AKSHR

 

“Despite knowing they won’t be here for long

 they still choose to live their brightest lives -sunflowers” 

Truth has no special time of its own. Its hour is now – always. – Albert Schweitzer- -- AKSHR

 

 Truth has no special time of its own. 

 Its hour is now – always. 

 – Albert Schweitzer

The whispered truth, a fleeting sigh,

A whispered truth that dances nigh.

No gilded hour, no sacred space,

Its presence found in time and grace.

 

The dawn's first blush, the fading light,

Hold truth's embrace, both day and night.

In silent stars, or bustling street,

Truth's potent voice, forever meet.

 

The ancient scroll, the modern page,

Reveal the truth in every stage.

From whispered word to thunderous roar,

Truth's constant echo evermore.

 

No clock can mark its special time,

Its timeless presence, a sacred rhyme.

For truth, a flame that brightly burns,

In every moment, truly learns.

 

So heed the now, the ever-then,

Where truth resides, 'midst mortal men.

Its hour is now, its hour is all,

Truth's radiant light, stands tall and tall.

AKSHR

Too many people overvalue what they are not and undervalue what they are. – Malcolm Forbes --- AKSHR

 

Too many people overvalue what they are not 

and undervalue what they are. 

 – Malcolm Forbes

 

A gilded cage, a whispered plea,

For facets bright, for all to see.

They chase the gleam, the painted smile,

A hollow echo, all the while.

 

The crafted self, a mask so fine,

Conceals the soul, a heart entwined

With fragile threads, and whispered fears,

While worth untold, in quiet tears.

 

The artist's hand, the dancer's grace,

Lie dormant deep, in time and space.

A hidden talent, soft and low,

Neglected gifts, a silent flow.

 

The strength within, the spirit's fire,

Is dimmed by shadows, set afire

By fleeting praise, and fleeting fame,

A hollow echo, a whispered name.

 

They grasp at shadows, vast and grand,

And miss the beauty, close at hand.

The simple joy, the quiet peace,

The inner worth, that time can't cease.

 

So let the masks, the facades fall,

And see the treasures, one and all.

Embrace the truth, the heart's soft beat,

And find the worth that's truly sweet.

AKSHR

There is nothing so powerful as truth – and often nothing so strange. – Daniel Webster --- AKSHR

 

There is nothing so powerful as truth 

– and often nothing so strange.                   

– Daniel Webster

A truth, a whispered, fragile thing,

A seed of wonder, softly spring.

It blooms in fields of doubt and fear,

A radiant flower, banished near.

 

Its petals, spun of starlight bright,

Reflect the cosmos, pure and light.

It dances on the wind's soft sigh,

A whispered promise, reaching high.

 

Yet, strange it is, this potent grace,

To pierce the veil of time and space.

It clashes with the norms we hold,

A jarring truth, a story told.

 

It strips the masks of gilded lies,

And stares into the darkened skies.

It challenges the status quo,

A revolution, soft and slow.

AKSHR

“Spirituality is to be awake, to drop your illusions. ---— Anthony de Mello -- AKSHR

 

“Spirituality is to be awake, to drop your illusions.

The veil of dreams, a tapestry so fine,

Hangs heavy, shrouding truth, a whispered sign.

Spirituality, a dawn's embrace,

Awakens senses, stills the restless pace.

 

To shed the shadows, cast by fear's dark hand,

To pierce the fog, across the promised land.

To drop the burdens, heavy, worn and old,

And let the whispers of the spirit unfold.

 

Illusions dance, in fleeting, vibrant hues,

False promises, like morning's whispered dews.

But deeper truths, in silence softly bloom,

A quiet knowing, banishing the gloom.

 

The heart awakens, yearning to ascend,

Beyond the confines, where the spirit's blend

With cosmic echoes, whispers in the air,

A symphony of being, beyond compare.

 

So open wide, the windows of your soul,

Let go of stories, make your spirit whole.

For in that waking, bathed in light's embrace,

You find the essence, time and space erase.

“The best religion in the world is the religion called love, not the religion called ‘Lord, Lord’. — Anthony de Mello ---AKSHR

 

A whispered plea, a fervent cry,

To gods unseen, beneath the sky.

"Lord, Lord," they call, with fervent grace,

A hallowed name, in time and space.

 

But love, a whispered, tender plea,

A gentle touch, for all to see.

A helping hand, a loving heart,

A solace found, a work of art.

 

For in the heart, where kindness dwells,

A sanctuary, where sorrow knells.

No need for temples, grand and tall,

Nor holy books, nor sacred thrall.

 

For love transcends the earthly sphere,

A beacon bright, dispelling fear.

It binds the soul, and sets it free,

A melody, eternally.

 

The whispered prayer, a hollow sound,

While love's embrace, on hallowed ground,

Transforms the spirit, pure and bright,

A guiding star, in darkest night.

 

So let us choose, with hearts so true,

The sacred art of loving you.

Not "Lord, Lord," in endless plea,

But love's soft touch, eternally.

AKSHR 

‘When the sage points to the moon, all the idiot sees is the finger.'” — Anthony de Mello --- AKSHR

 

Where wisdom's light, a beacon bright,

Doth guide the soul through darkest night,

The sage, with knowing, gentle hand,

Points to the moon, across the land.

 

A whispered truth, a vision grand,

A cosmic dance, across the sand.

But fools, with eyes that cannot see,

Fixate on form, and vanity.

 

The finger, stark, a pointed plea,

Obscures the vast expanse, you see.

The moon's soft glow, a distant dream,

Lost in the shadow, a silent scream.

 

For in that gaze, so sharp and keen,

Lies not the finger, but the scene,

The boundless sky, the stars above,

The endless dance of time and love.

 

The sage's touch, a gentle art,

To pierce the veil, to reach the heart,

But those who cling to what they know,

See only shadows, cold and low.

 

So heed the words, the whispered sound,

And look beyond the ground, profound.

For in the moon, a truth resides,

While fools on fingers, lost, abide.

AKSHR