As I grew up, the only thing I ever wanted to do was to escape from the hustle and bustle of the city life. Last summer, my family and I went to the Haridwar, the place situated in the lap of Uttaranchal state in the Northern plains of Himalaya mountains covered with the sanctity just like a mountain covered with snow. It is known for its ravishing scenery, religious significance, tourism, and for its admirable culture in Indian history. As soon as my feet touched the sand coarse holy land of salvation, I felt an eternal bliss. The red, blue, purple, and pink flowers were enjoying the cold harmonious breeze on the beautiful green trees that sounded like a musician playing melodious music with a guitar. There was a fresh sweet smell of waffle and pancakes in the atmosphere. Even the bright green and yellowish grasses were welcoming us by dancing on the euphonious music played by the cold breeze. I felt like a royal, beautiful princess heading towards the paradise in her magnificent chariot. Har-ki-Pauri, the holy place where the diving Ganga River leaves her home place mountai...
Deep River is a short novel through which Shusaku Endo shares the story of a number of Japanese tourists who travel to India in an unknown pursuit of their pilgrimage of grace. Ironically the characters within the novel are non-believers of the Hindu religion, which can be a bit confusing for the reader at first. But as one proceeds through the novel, one will come to realize that the basis of the novel was not to review any particular religion, but to depict the individual journey to God. As stated within the novel, “God has many different faces. I don’t think God exists exclusively in the churches and chapels of Europe…(p.121)”Meaning similar paths will most likely not be taken. However it becomes evident through the reading that it is their sub-conscious notions that lead them to India to find God, although their trips appear to be for alternative reasons.
In 1785, a Christ Child was said to have appeared. A shepherd boy from the village of Tayankani played with the child, but the child disappeared. The child was believed to have disappeared into a rock that was left with his imprint. This is the story behind the pilgrimage to the rock, but those of our community don’t pay much attention to it. Their purpose in the event is to ‘honor’ their supernatural beings. They pay homage to Rit’i (the snow), Taytakuna (Fathers), and the great Apus (Lord Mountains).
There is a place where not far from my hometown, which, since my childhood, still holds the secrets to life. It was a place where we were free. Free to do whatever we wanted to do, say whatever we wanted to say, it was our place, our river. It was a simple place, no paved or asphalt roads for the commotion of busy traffic, no tall buildings to block out the sunlight, no sense of time to feel rushed or anxious, no effects from the outside world. It was a beach on the coast of Lake Sakakawea called “Little Egypt.”
Dekker’s suspenseful writing and story, as well as his splendid imagery, are sure to captivate both believers and unbelievers alike. His descriptive worlds, relatable characters, and emotional words bring this exciting story to life with a flourish. Using powerful phrases such as, “… the tall trees shining their soft colors about him. Most seemed to glow with one predominant color… accented by other colors of the rainbow,” and, “… a towering pearl cliff shimmered with ruby and topaz hues… a huge waterfall which throbbed with green and golden light…” Dekker brings evocative scenes to the mind’s eye. It is easy to see why so many are charmed by these stunning descriptions.
The landscape is described in an interesting fashion with contrasting adjectives. It is described as “savage,” but it is “holy” and “enchanted.” The enchantment is compared to a “woman wailing for her demon lover.” This image of sexuality leaves the impression that the Earth is anxiously mourning for a fulfillment of evil. The chasem below Kubla Kahn’s paradise “pleasure dome” is beset with “ceaseless turmoil” and chaos. It is described as “breathing in fast pants” and there is a powerful eruption, resulting in rock fragments bursting out and being flung from the river. The same river that sustained life for the “pleasure dome” floods the land. Additional to the noises of the chaos are “ancestral voiced prophesying war” and these voices of war are a reminder that the
As I pulled into the parking lot of the Buddhist temple here in Sioux Falls, SD, I didn’t know what to expect. I sat in my car pulling up the courage to go inside because I had no idea what to expect. As I walked in to the Buddhist temple it was nothing to what I was used to. As being a Catholic as I walk in there’s not much to see other than a few paintings on the wall. Everything is put away nicely and there’s a ton of space. When I walked into the Buddhist temple there were Buddhists, cloths, and a whole bunch of flowers. There were so many flowers in such a small place that it looked like a flower shop and smelled like a flower shop.
...ng in pure nature the flame of spirituality is re-ignited. The person is in a virtual Eden.
When I was a kid my parents always took me to Nathdwara to take the blessings of Lord Krishna every now and then because my parents are so religious. So by going there several times I am also attached to that place. Actually Nathdwara is situated in Rajasthan state and I live in the state called Gujarat and in the city called as Ahmedabad. It takes six hours drive from my city to Nathdwara and this is the only nearest place where I could get mental peace. This is very important place for me and my family because it is a tradition of our family that whoever goes there gives free food to the hungry and poor people. We do so because we think that if we do good work in our life we will be allowed by god to go to the heaven. [The two states on the left are Gujarat and Rajasthan. One in light blue color is Gujarat with the arrows and on the top of it with cream color is Rajasthan. I live in the middle of the state and Nathdwara is at the border of the Rajasthan]
I live in a tribe of Native Americans who are located at the bottom of the Andes Mountains in the Peru area. Our village faces the ocean which is beautiful at sunset when the sun can be seen disappearing under the water. The orange red glow of the sun reflects off of the dark yet clear blue of the sea. There is a hidden place, even though people only find on accident, that has the best view of the breathtaking ocean. I love that place cause few people find it and if they do the despise it immediately. I call this place my special place because the colorful plants and trees are soothing. The green grass tickles my toes when I stand and cushions my back when I lay down. This place is my go to hill whenever I receive my daily temper.
Joy Harjo did a tremendous job in explaining to the reader that one can relax oneself through prayer and nature. We can all relate to the idea of allowing ourselves into places not yet imagined and feeling at peace. She connects the idea of peacefulness with nature and prayer in a well thought language that allows her to still connect herself to her Native American ancestry. Harjos metaphors and images of nature and prayer are effective in getting her point across as well as making a deeper connection with her Muskogee Creek heritage.
As you walk right into the entrance you are suddenly transported to a world of paradise. The view is breathtaking as you walk through a path of flowers. Every flower you can imagine is in the garden. As I started walking I couldn't take my eyes of the different color of roses. Roses and lilies are my favorite flowers and they have their own fragrance to them. Every flower had their own features. The colorful patterns, the light colors, the dark colors each individual characteristic, enhanced the flower. I saw tulips, daffodils, lilies and many endless flowers. The lilies were color and bright, they looked magical in the shining sun. People were admiring the flowers and their color.
When my brother and I weren't at "battle," I would lay beneath my oak tree and daydream. As I looked up I could see millions of branches protecting me from everything above. At the end of each branch were hundreds of more leaves that would gently catch the morning dew, and carefully allowed it to make its way to the grass. It was like thousands of stars in the sky as the sun caught the drops and allowed them to sparkle so brightly. This was my heaven, and as I lay there, I could feel the plush grass, like a snuggly old blanket, holding my body gently against the ground.
In the early summer mornings, when the sunshine is young and playful, inside the church another realm is born. Sitting in the back rows one can see a heavenly mist flowing though the windows and filling the sleepy altar with life and hope. It is a different dimension in the breast of an unsuspecting world. Moments such as these bring you joy and reassurance and also show you that there really is someone out there: your soul is elevated, your mind is thirsty for new experiences and your body is strengthened.
A smile crept across my face as I turned around and watched the land get smaller and further away. The vast ocean lay before us with promises of a whole week with gorgeous views, interesting people, terrific food and freedom. This...is heaven.