Is the probability of luck ¬Ĺ?

Luck ūüćÄand miracle are two fascinating phenomena … but I would like to talk about luck for now ¬†and spare miracle ¬†this time.

Do you believe in luck ? Do you believe yourself to be lucky?

Even though most of us try to portray ourselves as rational and like to say ‚ÄúI believe in hard work‚ÄĚ , many a¬† times without realising we hope¬† for ¬†benevolence from that unknown corner in our deciding moment. Some call it hope, faith or its in a way seeking for favor or luck.

Often I wonder what is the funda of “luck“. Is luck the forgery done by destiny to get a destined result?  Is luck something completely abstract and totally controlled from the other world or is it something more realistic which is under the control of human beings.

Is the probability of luck ¬Ĺ? ¬†(Equal chance of winning and losing )

There are moments when we feel the whole universe is conspiring against us.

but then I persuade -“who the hell am I? A tiny particle and still dare to believe the whole universe has time to spare for me! ¬†“.

Which makes me wonder why do some believe themselves to be lucky and others believe to be unlucky .Does that extra favoring from unknown sources or powers really favor some?

This is the reason why I tried to make a logical understanding of it. I have NO intention to give something like” 5 tips to be lucky”, cos I have none .

Instead just sharing few things which were noticed.

One thing I have observed is people who basically believe to be lucky don’t dissect past events and regret. They take things in their stride therefore they concentrate on what is available and make best use of it than bothering about what they were seeking. They are more relaxed and make use of intuitions effectively .They are confident and ready to take risk which provides them with new openings and use them to their advantage.

Whereas the other half try to scrutinize things when something go out of their schedule and try to find  follies .They  concentrate on things what they could have achieved rather than paying attention to what is in their kitty. Over a period they start concentrating in negative perspective and it affects their confidence. Anxiety makes them under confident to take risk and they miss on opportunities by playing safe.

Sometimes I feel life is all about choices, some we make knowingly and some by default .Each event is a lucky draw, right from place of birth, to parents, to everything you keep drawing things from eternity the infinite pool. The favorable draws definitely vary from individual to individual and are not fully in our control, but our thoughts are. The feeling of being lucky/ unlucky is a result of cumulative thought process. So try to accumulate the positives and believe things can happen in your advantage even if it meanders from your plan in mind. As Tennessee Williams said, “Luck is believing you’re lucky.”



Would definitely like to get your view and opinion on this topic.




Header credit : owner


Different Hues

Down the boulevards, beyond the abstract

There is a deep blue tainted wall of reality

Every perceptible gets hung out there to be gauged by the clique,

The onlookers came along and computed their traits

The colour, the geometry, all were quantified.

Some posts were picked not knowing its hankering,

To be stitched on to a montage.


Many left, and the wall was almost empty.

Leaving the remnants to wonder what went wrong,

Is it the beauty? Or is it their worth?

Impelling irony to join the beholders.


The alteration is needed in notion of folk

That all worth depictions is not dyed in pink,

But some are made of all different hues.




Header credit :To the rightful owner

Perfect Better Halves

via Daily Prompt: Detonate


The mighty Phoebus galloped along the edges of the mountain

Tracing the silhouette stark of his valorous army

Deployed him on a sturdy pinnacle.

His golden cloak fluttered in ablaze behind.


His shimmering sword slayed every eye that lifted to raise a question

Ensuring every eye lid fluttered in concurred.

Each pawn had a stealthy shade that traced its path

To guard the loyalty of every being during his reign.

He encircled terrain all day armoured as hawk,

Until he ebbed away for his alluring queen.


She alighted into arena in her silver glow with

Pitch black royal cape embellished with topaz beads.

They smudged into one another, Colouring in each other’s hues that detonate,

Giving away to one another, yet being distinct about ones identity

In a total moment of submission, owning each other

They kissed goodbye in the prepossessing twilight.

Lord made his way for the beauteous lady regnant to her fullest self,

Until the role reversal transpire in the dawn.

They were the perfect better halves ever to be known.

Liebster Award


I am very thankful to, who has nominated me for this award. I appreciate his gesture and suggest everyone to visit his blog.He is an emerging blogger and has some interesting posts in his blog.

The rules of this award:
1. Acknowledge the blog who nominated you and display the award.
2. Answer the 11 questions the blogger gives you.
3. Give 11 random facts about yourself.
4. Nominate 11 blogs.
5. Notify those blogs of the nomination.
6. Give them 11 questions to answer

11 Questions posed upon me by Shubham

  1. Your source of inspiration?

     Nature, anything that  strike  my thought .

  1. Which is the place that you desperately want to visit?


  1. What is your first wish that you will fulfill upon becoming a millionaire?

       Something for underprivileged kids, World tour (for me)

  1. Your most memorable birthday?

      All childhood birthdays

  1. Which is the first name that comes to your mind when i say ‚ÄėMusic‚Äô?

      Michael Jackson

  1. What would you prefer? A trip abroad all alone or a weekend at home with friends?

       Trip abroad all alone because the other i have experienced

  1. Any collection that you are proud of possessing or the one you would like to possess?

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†Would like to own A collection of books written by me ūüėõ

  1. What are your plans of a perfect weekend?

      Outing with dear ones and good food

  1. According to you, which is the most irritating task of your daily routine?

      The stagnancy in life

  1. As a kid, which was your favourite TV show?

     Nothing as a kid maybe FRIENDS once I grew up

  1. What can make your anger rise instantly? Can you keep a check on your anger? times I cannot keep a check on my anger

Now, the 11 random facts about me are:

  1. Enjoy Meaningful conversations and humor
  2. Not a great singer but enjoy music
  3. Like reading books ,mainly fiction
  4. People approach me with their problems because I am good listener and is not very judgmental
  5. I do over-think
  6. Fakeness and hypocrisy irks me
  7. Nature lover
  8. would like to have a more positive outlook
  9. Wish to learn a musical  instrument
  10. Like trying new food items and restaurant
  11. Generally appreciate people and sentiments

I would like to nominate the following people:


    Questions for the nominees:

    1. How you started blogging?
    2. What inspires you to write?
    3. One thing you like about yourself?
    4. Something you wish to change in yourself?
    5. Your favourite music artist?
    6. What do you do to elevate your spirit on a low day?
    7. A book that struck a code in you and would like to suggest? Why?
    8. A destination you would like to visit
    9. All time favourite movie
    10. Your perfect weekend plan?
    11. one thing you wish to do once you  become a millionaire?

It was fun ..Thank you for nomination   .

I am also thankful to :

for nominating me¬†as well ¬†.Thank you ūüôā

Unraveling Poetry


My last two posts coincidentally have been poems. (Let me tell you I am not an expert on poems or sonnets or technicalities but just someone who enjoy reading and writing it).

I have a set of friends who always give feedback on my write-ups  and I was surprised at the reaction of most of them when  I referred  a poem for their opinion.

They are like ‚ÄúI‚Äôm not into poems‚ÄĚ, ‚Äúpoem is not my cup of tea‚ÄĚ.

They were so reluctant to indulge in poems. It’s like some extravaganza.

¬†I was taken aback at their apprehension about this genre, ‚ÄúBut how can you miss out on this unique worldly pleasure‚ÄĚ was my doubt.

It leads me to think why poems or sonnets or that form of writing is different and not every ones cup of tea.This post is you can say, a kind of soliloquy connected to it.

Poems are a kind of weed…its intoxicating .The unknown pleasure of savoring each word in it, the joy of unraveling each layer of hidden thoughts in every line needs to be experienced and can‚Äôt be explained. When you hear the lines of Lord Byron ¬†like:

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes .

You can do nothing but fall in the trance of that beauty.

Poems are like sarcasm …if you don‚Äôt get the crux behind, it seems to be unappealing and can be even annoying. You just need to have that interest to pick the nuances and deciphering the clues and metaphors which writer has left silently behind. (In short one should have that Sherlock home‚Äôs instinct). You just cannot miss a beat.

¬†In Sylvia Plath poem ‚ÄúMetaphor‚ÄĚ where she states ‚ÄúI‚Äôm a riddle in nine syllables‚ÄĚ which she follows by seemingly unrelated metaphors ¬†to elephant, a ponderous house, and loaf‚Äôs big with its yeasty rising actually refers to her stages of pregnancy.

and when she ends it like:

I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.

It actually makes you ponder what her state of mind is, was she indicating about this irrevocable journey of hers as a new beginning or her indecisiveness to stepping into motherhood. That ambiguity actually gives reader the space to participate and get involved in the creative process of writer through ones imagination.

 Poems have potential to hold volumes in few simple lines. Truly it reiterates the fact brevity is the soul of wit. The three lines by Robert Frost below manages to express a complicated doctrine.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Freedom of interpretation: The most attractive as well as the tricky dimension about poem is the degree of freedom of interpretations.

The unknown uff! or wow! That spurts when you read  a line impregnated with meaning and soul is truly a pleasure. Leaving with few such lines of William Shakespeare in Sonnet 116 which left me in awe.

 Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Admit impediments. Love is not love 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove. 

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 

It is the star to every wand’ring bark,¬†

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.¬†

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks¬†

Within his bending sickle’s compass come;¬†

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 

If this be error and upon me prov’d,¬†

I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

Breakup over a coffee

The coffee brewed as their souls smoldered .

The rain drops beyond the window eavesdropped and passed by as they were fed with nothing but silence.

Duo sat across the table trying to read each other and holding volumes to divvy,

But all the clogged emotions ended,

in his sigh and in her aborted tears.


They reminisced as they were in a moment together after long

how their preferences bifurcated ….

He choose to chase the moon for her, but failed to reckon the glow of her eyes.

While She trailed behind yearning for his silent holds in moon lit night.

As the turmoils of reality snipped her fairy tale

She felt like the detached kite,

disowned by the string which she believed to belong.

Nor being a part of the sky which she presumed to own.


None wished to wrong the other,

But they couldn’t see their love being throttled and  decided to free it .

“So this is it‚ÄĚ he said as they parted on a coffee.

And the “please stay” he wrote with spilled drops gleamed as they walked away

The incest of Gulmohar

Morning streak swept past ,

The lanes ahead embellished with her adorns

had a secret tale to unfold .

Trail of the night prior, they behold.

Night before, hummer breeze rose like a valorous knight

Kneeled past her seeking sanction to woo,

To which she rustled her leaves like laughs of gentle tease.

As though she was more than pleased.

The woods around jolted at their display of affection.

The flurry was like the hush of tattlers,

Who witnessed a new piece of news to trade .

The clouds pulled the veil and dimmed the light

She danced along and shied, to bait.

Every time he tried to whisper or whisks her hair

She glided past letting the breeze past abreast.

Dodging all attempts to clench

And putting his efforts in vain.

She showed tantrums like implausible

muffled and flirted with the raindrops ,

They played along and swayed along.

Unaware of charade, envied wind hustled them so hard

Till every drop of rain slid away.

The mellow hummers set the perfect undertone

For all the emotions and passion to swirl along.

Finally he made a passionate whirl to the waltz,

Ruffled her and swept her off the buds.

As she lay on lane beneath with undisclosed love

The whole wild wood tattled about the incest of gulmohar.