memories Archives

Trip To Bir Billing (My Paragliding Experience)

November 21, 2019 56 Comments

Hey Everyone! It’s time for some travelling updates and stories of my voyaging! Hope you all are as exited about it, as me?

Bir is a tiny village located at the foothills of the Himalayas in the Kangra Valley of Himachal Pradesh (India) – known worldwide as a destination for ecotourism, meditation and spiritual studies and yes, PARAGLIDING! Scenic, panoramic and an adventurer’s piece of heaven, Bir, shall not disappoint you or your daredevil spirit. Depending on which route you take, Bir is around 532.7 km (via NH44) or 615.9 km (via NH9) from New Delhi. You may choose to drive, book a cab, take a bus or even book a flight to the nearest airport in Dharamshala. (Read here for more information) It takes around 11-13 hours to reach Bir and the drive gets better by the hour! (PS – The fun fanatics may travel to Bir by the Kangra Valley Railways – Toy Train – for the added hullabaloo!)

iScriblr_paragliding_bir — Paragliding in Bir

FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION

“FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION” Challenge! MEMORIES!

March 14, 2019 73 Comments

Hey Everyone! I hope y’all are having a wonderful day! Welcome to the WEEK 18 of “FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION” Challenge! *Happy Thursday*

iScriblr_FREEDOM_OF_EXPRESSION1

ABOUT THE CHALLENGE

Every Thursday, I will pick up a “prompt word” to be acted upon by y’all. You are free to go wild with your imagination and interpret the “prompt” in any way that you like – photo, prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction, quotes, articles or drawing/painting – whatever works for you!
In short, it’s all about you being the BOSS and choosing the best way possible to express and depict your understanding of the prompt and go berserk!

POETRY

Bitter Echos

February 19, 2019 75 Comments

iScriblr_poem

In the crinkled chapters of my past,
I sometimes unearth my solicitude,
Tangled in the cobwebs of reflection,
I reason my perennial solitude.

Reminiscing the diabolic chapters of my yore,
In grief I trudge through my present being,
Incapable of bypassing history,
I am stuck in an unceasing cycle of self-pitying.

With severed intrepidity I subsist,
My "amour-propre" is in shambles,
Awaiting emancipation,
I wait on cadavers of all lost battles.

This sorrowfulness is beyond my fortitude,
The suffering I can take no more,
The memories of my slaughtered past mauls me,
I yearn for this turmoil to cure!