If your thoughts are always in line with what most of the world thinks, it’s time to reflect. Are you thinking for yourself? Or are you an echo for someone else.

textgram_1513082507.png

Advertisements

Just after sunset

Sunset at Mandvi beach
Mandvi Beach

Sharing with Weekly photo Challenge

Kindness is not weakness. Kind people are strong people who in turn help others grow into their strength.
Half the people you meet will try to take advantage of your kindness. Still be kind. Because, kindness matters. It’s the only thing which really matters. Kindness sustains life.
– K.A. Acharya Value the kind

Value the kind people in your life.

For more of such quotes, follow me on Instagram: @akawrites

The Mouth of Truth, Rome

La Bocca della Verità, or the Mouth of Truth, is a marble sculpture located in the portico of the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin church in Rome, Italy. The circular disc has a face carved with open eyes, nose, and mouth.

The mouth of Truth
Dare to Lie?

The origin of the sculpture is unknown. Some say it was a drain cover while others assert that the face in the sculpture is of the God of the sea—Oceanus. There’s also an account claiming that it was used as a drain pipe to drain the blood of the sacrificed cattle.

The allure of the sculpture is due to the medieval myth associated with it. If you have watched the movie, Roman Holiday, then you might be familiar with it. (And if you haven’t watched the movie yet, do watch it. It’s really a beautiful movie.)

The sculpture was used to ferret out the liars. If you speak a lie with your hand inside the disc, the mouth is supposed to snap shut cutting off your hand.

Hordes of tourists, who visit Rome put their hand in the sculpture’s mouth to test out the theory.

At the La Bocca della Verità

You guys know me—I always speak the truth, and nothing but the truth 😀 So, I had nothing to prove. But I had gone to Rome with my parents, and it’s always better to have outside testimony about your honesty 😛

Reasons you should check out the Mouth of Truth when you visit Rome:
  • The peculiar sculpture is worth looking even without the myth.
  • You definitely want a picture of you with your hand inside the sculpture’s mouth. Such memories are the reason we carry cameras.

So, when you visit Rome, do check out La Bocca della Verità.

Have you visited Rome? Do share your experience with me.

chasing Perfection

Perfection is not a constant, don’t try to mould yourself into some popular conception of the word…

Haiku- a valley

the solo trekker

scales the snowy mountain peak;

valley left behind

© Kiran Acharya 2017

Image courtesy : Charuhas Acharya @ A Glimpse of Paradise

Vignette: Anger

Vignette 1
Image Courtesy: Pixabay

Anita kicked the bedpost. Once. Twice. And once more. Third time she missed, and hit the vase stand. Pieces flew all over the room. Broken, shattered bits. Like her. Her mum didn’t see that, didn’t care about that. She cared about the breaking sound. The noise which aggravated her headache. That she compared to the house falling. More like a rats in the cupboard din, Anita thought. It was more than she could take.

She scurried to the garden. Her solace through the years. Not today. The sun was in a bad mood too. His fury burned her skin. The odour of dog poo greeted her instead of the sweet-smelling roses. She picked up a sharp rock. Of course, she would never hurt the neighbour’s dog. Even though he was the re-incarnation of Zoltan. Instead she hurled it at the letter box.

The flowers weren’t co-operative either. The rose drew her blood. The Hibiscus refused to placate her nose. She crushed the flower for the offense. Too late she recollected that the poor flower never boasted of fragrance. The hibiscus wouldn’t become a sweet scented flower just like she couldn’t be the son her mother wanted so much. It didn’t matter. She straightened the crushed petals. She loved every flower just as it was.

*One of my assignments at a Flash Fiction Workshop. The task was to write a piece portraying a strong emotion.

Image Source: Jill111 at Pixabay 

Image is CC0 Creative Commons

Let me know whether you like it or not.Your encouragement makes my day, and criticism makes my writing 🙂

 

Through the window

Eiffel Tower- Through the window

My first glimpse of Eiffel tower was through the glass window. We were on the way to the Seine River Cruise. Dusk had set in; small clouds flitted through the sky. The evening shadows played with the glass to give a surreal look. This was how I saw the Eiffel tower the first time. Can you wonder that I was enthralled?

Sharing with Weekly Photo Challenge | Skywatch Friday

Strokkur Geyser, Iceland

The word geyser is derived from the Great Geysir. However, Geysir is very unreliable these days. Strokkur, on the other hand, with its reliable eruption cycle has become a more popular tourist destination. Strokkur is a fountain geyser located in the geothermal field in the Haukadalur valley in Iceland. Nearby are located many smaller geysers (as well as the Geysir).

Strokkur was supposedly set off during an earthquake in 1789. It is a very energetic geyser, the water sprouting around 10-20m high. At any time of the day, you can see rings of tourists, cameras in hand, waiting for the geyser to erupt. And Strokkur doesn’t disappoint; it erupts every 8-10 minutes sending fumes of sulphur your way if you stand in the direction of the wind.

Strokkur- waiting
Waiting for the Strokkur geyser to erupt

Continue reading Strokkur Geyser, Iceland

The Observer

Observing the street
Image Courtesy: Pixabay

Watching people through the window is his job. Well, not exactly his job, but a prelude to it.

Staring out the window at the lush landscape, tickling streams—not his scene. Why sit on the other side of the wall when you could directly bask in the sun, play with the waters, and climb the mountains? Maybe when it’s raining. But then he would rather go out in the rain than watch through a hole in the wall. He loves dancing in the rain as much as he loves making people dance to his tunes.

His window seat doesn’t face nature, but the concrete street—a crowded road with heavy footfall—not the highway packed with moving vehicles. He isn’t interested in watching the different models of automobiles passing, though he does love cars and bikes. Watching people isn’t a hobby, but a necessity. Else, how would he find someone suitable? He doesn’t like to use someone he knows. That would be risky. His feelings would interfere with what he has to do. Watching a crowd is safe. There he finds strangers, whose pain and sufferings he can bear with a detached mind. Continue reading The Observer