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The author of Amazon's best-selling novel under Kindle's new releases, The Goddess of the Himavan (Ancient & Classical Literature), Shobana Gomes is a poet and writer from Malaysia. Her book, As Delicate As Snow won the 3rd prize in the 2021 Reader's Choice Awards Contest by TCK Publishing. Her books are published on Amazon, https://amazon.com/author/shobanagomes, and her online E-book store, Shobana's Book Station, at https://shobanabookstation.blogspot.com.
Shobana's Pinterest account is in collaboration with Robin Sharma, the No.1 motivational speaker, author, and humanitarian. https://www.pinterest.com/shobanagomes24/a-little-time-with-shobana. Her website address is https://simplyshobana.net.
When she is not writing, Shobana creates poetic memorabilia for special occasions.
In 2007, my youngest brother passed away very suddenly. We were in Toronto, Canada, and had just arrived two days earlier. It was one of the most devastating moments of my life. Life would never be the same without him. He cared for me so much, hung around the house, and slept in until we departed Malaysia. Maybe deep down he knew he wouldn't see us again, but by his passing, he opened the doors to writing for me. Though I used to write on tiny bits of paper, little thoughts that people refer to as poems these days, I had never showcased them to anyone. But in his passing, I poured my heart out in a poem and published it on a website. A lot of people commented that I should continue writing as they loved it. I have worked hard at my craft, and though there were not many who participated in a dream revealed, now a passion, I began to put my words out there. Always confident that someday, through all the trials and errors, I will get better and my writing will be accepted. And, I have finally reached, not so much the pinnacle of success because I don't know how to measure success. Is it by the money you make? Perhaps. Well then, it doesn't matter to me, but when I received a Special Invitation to join 9000 poets from 138 countries on 5 continents from Luis Arias-Manzo of Poetas Del Mundo, I know I did my brother right by chasing my dream, or was it his dream? I am not sure. It was a Special Invitation that Luis Arias-Manzo sent me. He addressed it to me personally. My brother will be smiling and so will my dad and sister who have joined him since. These are defining moments that really get me going, to feel that adrenalin rush of success – the success of being acknowledged as a poet. To the many who thought I would give up in spite of all the hurdles I encountered or who laughed at me, I would like to say a big thank you – they just spurred me to greater heights. To the few who stuck by me – here I am today, a poet of my time. Thank you, my friends. Thank you Mr. Luis Arias-Manzo. See you in Chile, God willing. -shobana-
Another month is upon us, the august month of August, and I keep thinking that we will celebrate Christmas soon. Well, it is a little more than four months away, but with the way time is rushing past us, I cannot but think the season will draw near before we know it. Getting back to this month, I thought about how summer would soon be over by its end. Though I live in an almost tropical paradise, summer does invade our lives just like the countries with four seasons. It is hotter than usual. With the global climate change, it has been a roller-coaster of unexpected weather that beseeched us this time round. Thunderstorms were rampant, and the heat was unbearable. The flowers in my garden withered completely once, even though I had watered them. Within seconds, the pots were dry, and by the time evening set upon us, the flowers and leaves looked parched and dry. I wondered about those vacationing at the beaches. The sun would scorch the sands for sure during the day, and it would be hot and stuffy during the nights. And then, a love story came to mind. It was in the month of August, that I met you. You were standing on the beach, while I was walking its shores, alone. I saw you staring at the distance, where the sun shimmered on the waters and drew a distinction between sky and sea to claim their own boundaries. You had a faraway look in your eyes that I wondered at. What were you thinking about, I thought with sudden interest. I stopped in my tracks to stare at you, a lone girl with a faraway look. Your hair tousled by the winds, your clothes ruffled in the breeze, you created a picture of exquisite beauty. I couldn't take my eyes off you. I stood there staring, hoping your eyes would find mine in all my confusion. Then you did turn to look at me. I felt like a hundred bolts of lightning hit me at that instant. It was an electrifying experience. I smiled at you while my heart thundered, and when you smiled back, I knew that I found a soulmate in you. You had the most amazing smile that reached that look in your eyes and I fell in love with you. I walked up to say hello. We started talking and laughed about so many things, that soon we became two lovers who met on an August day when the last days of summer became our haunt and a chance meeting led us to cherished memories. The End.
I was thinking the other day about how long it took me to be bold enough to showcase my writing to the literary world. I had always kept it private, not wanting anyone to know that I had this knack for writing down my thoughts or delving into the deepest part of my soul to express a poetic semblance, thus creating pictures through words. The picture that I conjure in my mind is always one of perfection. I suppose it is because life is so imperfect that you want to run away from reality. I had this voluminous amount of inspiration that arose from things around me. I imagined much of what I wrote in ways quite unimaginable. Words would spill from the depth of my soul, and therein I find peace, laughter, magic, and love. Writing takes me to another level. It creates the perfect balance between realism and invention. Creation is the aftermath. It takes a great deal of courage to be able to write for all the world to read. Behind the façade of the writer is a tumultuous mind, vulnerable to criticism or applause. Would you be courageous enough to withstand the pressures either way? There are so many reasons that awaken one to the beauty of writing. In some cases, it is of paramount importance to be able to relay one's feelings and thoughts on paper as it can be as healing as an anti-depressant, you find your happy place to thrive and grow and even learn. You unveil the person you are beneath it all. One has to be motivated to write. Interest has to form about a subject matter which will create an impression in your mind, thus facilitating an expression of words in writing. Focus is the key point here. When ideas surmount, it is like a storm waiting to be unleashed. Just like when your cup runneth over. Your cup runneth over like manna, Where wisdom is found, Treasures of knowledge abound, Where a longing for appeasement liberates a tired mind. Writing liberates the mind. This brings to mind a neighbor who used to come over to our house nearly every day to borrow a cup of sugar or salt. I don't know what it was that made her borrow these essentials all the time. She would bring her cup, and mom would fill it up, never once complaining, though we sometimes laughed at her antics. I suppose it made her day to be able to come over to our place and have a tete-a-tete. After a while, it became routine. We expected her to appear at our doorstep at the same time every other day. Each time she came, she said that she was lazy to go to the shops to get her groceries and that she would do her shopping another day. I guess it was her way of wanting some attention. Writing is a compulsive disorder, I think. Especially, if you get deeply immersed in it. There is no room for laziness if you want to succeed. I don't know if laziness is the right word but being laid back and neglecting its relevance in your life doesn't help in turning passion into dreams. Everyone has a passion. Writers make dreams come true out of their passion and inspire a hungry world to knowledge and understanding. After a while, the expressive element to get your words across will become an essential part of your life. Now, I am glad that I dared all those years ago. Writing has liberated me of nearly all the trappings of my life. The End.
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