Timeless Echoes by Balroop Singh

Timeless Echoes by Balroop Singh has been published and is available now.

Balroop is one of my favorite writers, and it was an honor to review her captivating work. She has an endearing writing style that mesmerizes and connects, and her peace-based worldview is inspiring.  The book gave me several connect-with-self moments. Such is the power of her writing!

I kindled a copy yesterday because I want to read it again. It’s a prized possession.

See her blog post below for more details:

Timeless Echoes is just a click away now. Click on the link to download it and hear the echoes that would reverberate around you, reminding you of lost opportunities, repressed desires, cherished moments and hope that shimmers through clouds.

Here are all the links:

US UK DE FR ES IT NL JP BR CA MX AU IN

When Echoes Vibrate

Lilies in the garden spoke to me
Birds sang merrily
Clouds of gloom disintegrated
When I let these echoes vibrate

Mute watchers warbled
Fluttering fervently around me
Stirring hopeful messages
Of joy and bliss

When smoke of your love
Tried to asphyxiate me
When dreams got besieged
I flew on the wings of words

Fears receded when
Sun spread its gold
Creating a fusion of colors
Silently illuminating life.© Balroop Singh

The Editor’s Review:

Half of what we say are lies although they might be considered true, but truth with one’s self is an accepted bundle of lies except for those rare moments of self-realization. These lines right at the start of Timeless Echoes, ‘Each moment is precious, we try to cage it within our heart, where it perches in perfect rampart, embalmed by memories,’ reveal how this book is a healer, promising to lay bare the ills of the soul as it soothes, cleanses, and nurtures; instilling in us a will to learn and live without fear, and a will to not hurt others: ‘Why can’t our hearts feel the hurt we hurl at others?’

Balroop’s new book is a steadfast repudiation of those ills that we painfully hide under the covers of our flesh to present the polished exterior as truth. This magnetic collection of poems highlights our precious human lives with all their varied emotions and imposing relations: the lives often blinded by the strictures of the self-made duplicity, an excessively common phenomenon. ‘Listen to your heart, my friend. It knows you well,’ she writes.

I treasure these ‘forgetting fragile facets of love, facade of fading memories, echoes of dwindling love, is all I have now, yet love echoes refuse to subside’ believing that love echoes are soul-launched signals, ready to hug our pretenses to forge a divine assimilation because the struggle has always been with the self that we excommunicate to build up a wall, which obscures the travails plaguing the core. And finding a path to the core is the cure since there’s no villainy in the soul.

As Balroop proclaims ‘love is such a strange emotion, it gives less, it claims more…the facade of love is so delusive,’ I concur how our infirmities require urgent banishment, more pressing now than ever. And once I’ve made peace with the self, ‘the dark corridors are like meadows, they glow with my presence.’ Yes, without an iota of my own falsehoods plaguing me.
  Mahesh Nair

Thank you for your support.

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Balroop Singh

 

Two other updates:

My kid won two gold medals in a Martial Arts tournament. The theme was be a buddy, not a bully. How relevant to our times, and to Timeless Echoes.

Some of the longlistees. I’m an alphabetical topper 🙂

I am long-listed for Reflex Fiction prize. Getting long-listed is like winning since it’s a tough competition. Most of the other longlistees are flash fiction experts, so it’s great to be placed among them. All the longlistees will feature in a print anthology that’ll come out early next year. It’s a win-win accomplishment. Thanks.

The Yacht Man

For Day 3 of my B/W Photo Challenge, I present to you the Yacht man. I captured these moments one evening from the living room of our apartment.

He was up on the mast, repairing the halyard. When I was clicking him I wondered: what he’d eaten for lunch, if he’d fought with his family that morning, and weirdly, if he’d added coke or soda to his vodka.

I don’t think he’s checking his phone here. He may want to — the altitude might give him a good reception.DSCN1555

Here, he’s trying to pull a tool out of his repair kit; he’ll have to find it first.DSCN1564

Work has begun, and he’s peering in the direction of Brooklyn.DSCN1553

Is someone calling him from below, or is he gauging the altitude? “Will I survive if I fall, and if I survive, what’ll be left of me?”DSCN1554

He has a good view of downtown Manhattan, and with dusk approaching, the Hudson River traffic will peak.DSCN1562

The full view of the yacht and the man. Way ‘up’ to go.DSCN1545

A wider view.DSCN1559

The widest view the camera could get. Spot the yacht man?DSCN1561

The most zoomed-out click. He looks tired.DSCN1565

I figured by the end of it all that I had forgotten to eat lunch, fought with family in the morning and that, I would’ve added soda to my vodka.

I link Blewbird for this challenge. This blog has several breathtaking pictures.

Love/Hate Snow 2

For Day 2 of my B/W Photo Challenge, let the snow assault continue. But I promise I’ll kindle you with warmth from Day 3 onward.

Tried sitting on them? If they are flurries the first five seconds may feel cushy. Then: sit at your own risk.IMG_0359

Workers shoveling snow was a good sight. The sun shone bright; their shadows were big.11053084_10153219093570625_6815545349298158174_n

Insignificant when we don’t have to answer nature’s call? But when we do, this has top significance. There are some who want cleaner options even in the times of crisis.IMG_0329

What tires could do to snow: it becomes muddy, slushy, and lose what, the white.11025163_10153219094380625_8579846165506570706_n

All of us have a long, lone journey. We come and go, alone. The only truth.IMG_0371

I link Maniparna for this challenge. Her posts and photos are interesting.

Faces And Hearts

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I see faces, aching

for acceptance, hearts

prepping for penance.

Acceptance and penance, use them

They’re available, mean them.

 

An old, homeless man wobbled,

waiting for red to turn green

When a taxi hit a puddle,

his soaked shirt stuck to his skin.

 

The car shrieked to a stop, the driver,

his teeth glistened, he laughed

The man’s eyes lowered, the poorer,

he stood there as the car moved.

 

The breeze was cold and wet

The man walked, then paused

He had no cash or check

He walked and stopped.

 

Night glowed, stars assembled

He on a bench slipped into dreaming

Someone patted him and whispered

I’m the driver, he said, you were forgiving.

 

Both ate the sandwich the driver brought

He scanned the man, a deja vu from before

The man had stood, the driver remembered, between him and a gun

Look at the scar, the man quickly said, from the bullet of ’84.

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The driver’s eyes welled with tears,

the man’s with pride – and both hugged,

then smiled and sighed

Who said acceptance and penance have died.

 

But, I see faces aching

for acceptance, hearts

prepping for penance.

Acceptance and penance, use them

They’re available, mean them.

Spiritual Dessert At Santo Domingo And Amsterdam

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A calming, bluish dusk at Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

Labeling a quiet place as serene is interesting, but the one who’s labeling it might be miles away from serenity. The moment we’re out of a serene location, which certainly pumped us up, our psychological dominance if you will, might crush under the weight of life’s routine chaos.

It’s a given that all of us cannot visit serene locations all the time; at best, once a year. We should, therefore, enjoy find-serenity-wherever-you-are spiritual dessert.

This dessert might taste bitter. Our tasks would be uphill. Clock’s ticking.

Hence, we must either develop the will to bludgeon the issues or, seek peace while issues bludgeon us. Playing a victim is weakness and dumb, given life will come at us hard, every time.

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As time approached sunset, Vondel Park in Amsterdam was quieter

 

Breathing Halloween Skeletons

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We met this bunch of suave guitar-holding skeletons at a Halloween party for children, which our toddler son thoroughly enjoyed.

My first reaction looking at them was that although they were barren, their presence was paramount; shrouding the rest of us in the hall. They gave vibes of joy, and were unlike other blood-curdling, spine-tingling skeletons.

Their smile was endearing, but their eyes cautioned that they’d long been dead. Stare at the eyes and you’ll know.

How different are we from them? Are we too dead and insensitive? In flesh and blood we certainly are breathing, but we are worse shadows.

Reflections

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In Central Park last year, I observed the bride’s costume and the groom’s coziness.

So many cameras, including mine, focused on them. The couple had their cameraman click their pictures. None – it was possible – had time for reflection.

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Later, the couple – in some uncertain corner of their subconscious – were reflecting, perhaps: where they were, when this began, and how this would end.

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But, they possibly refrained from fretting about past or worrying about future. They possibly accepted the reflections of the present.

 

Shades And Spots

These are some of my favorite clicks:

When the sun was setting amid dark rain clouds (West Jersey)57404_10151289597130625_1617344439_o

As the sun rose in Florida its patch of white light with its not-so-flattering reflection in the river (from aboard the Norwegian Gem)69748_10150112127110625_4662958_n

The circle of dark orange protecting the thick sunset of white (the East River, NYC)6016_139051120624_8135282_n

The disappearing hues of white and orange knocking on the windows of twilight (New Jersey skyline)75878_10150093045210625_1588157_n

The dusk’s only a few moments away (Manhattan skyline)IMG_8116

How every sunrise is the beginning of freshness (downtown Manhattan)IMG_9447

This quiet surrender wanting you to surrender too (Sandy Hook, New Jersey)334297_10150380642230625_6636000_o

How this day was glorious like any other day (Jersey City skyline)76391_10150093044755625_2593560_n

White with shades of gray and black (A night in Kerala, South India)615390_10151294044070625_1254638598_o

Spot the patches, those landings on the Moon220014_10150229692720625_2113731_o