Strengthen the Mind

Beautifully written by a beautiful friend. : )



The mind is like a loose cannon, if you don’t control its direction, goodness knows where you’ll end up.  A lot of change and unsettlement can unrest the mind and may not feel really good.  The first step is being aware that your current thinking isn’t serving you well and then you must take steps to put it back on track.  Whatever that is for you.  I have a few personal strategies in place that work for me when my mind runs away with crazy stupid thoughts that I know I don’t benefit from.  Motivational anything does it for me, I have figured out that if I am around motivational people, motivational words, I watch or read anything motivational it inspires me to take control of my thinking so that it serves me best.  So I will end this short blog post today with some motivational words for you today…

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Anouska's Blog


Heedless of the crowd’s attention,
I prize the peace offered at
Your door..
The limpid eyes
forever gaze trustfully
upon You..
Birds dip their wings
in the lucid flow
of your radiance..
Essence of your true
lies engraved
in the depths of my soul..
The rays of your love
renders my escape
possible as
I move through the rains
with effortless grace..
In your light,
I learn how to live.
As Your wisdom
ignites new fury
to unfold my own
the soul walks
in Spirit..
and the way appears
when I go within..
When this thirst
is quenched
and Your voice
is found in silence,
the void is ready
to be filled.

By Anouska Banerjee

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3 A.M

Powerful words.

Anouska's Blog


Constant frantic fits of the fan
striking its symphony,
Sharpening its blades,
smirking reeks of anxiety..

The crickets’ knighthood
reigning from
nooks & corners
in chambers
of the night..

Solemn whispers of
the rosewood bushes
rustling against the wind..

Sounds of sorrow
and delight
echoing manifold
as hymns of the hour..

Deep breathing of
a face pasted
with hollow greetings,
yearning to repose
yet wrapped in
of solitude broken..

Out to tame the
savage blow of illusion,
Rows of grim,
dark developments mystify..

The night skies ponder
and starless..

Trepidation spreads
like a plague..

Feeling consternation in
leaps of time,
3 a.m knew all my stories..

By Anouska Banerjee

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Where does an emerging artist — especially authors — stand?

Including myself.

The youth of this generation are far more imaginative. They possess a creative flair from about the age of 20. Whether they are painters, authors or even photographers. What is our canvas, platforms for appreciation. The chance of this, very limited. Why I say this? It becomes difficult when you consider traditional publishing, especially for writers. I find this the most difficult for writers than photographers or painters. Because for photography & painting, their platform is visual representation. It’s easier to judge, possibly to accept due to it’s art form. But why so difficult for writers? Even so, for me?

It concerns writing, publishing and even age. And appreciation experienced at much later stages of life — for writers, a lot later, especially past the age of 30. Examples of which include, Pulitzer and Nobel prize winner Toni Morrison, 39, Alice Munro, 37 or E.L. James in her late 40s. It suddenly occurred to me, frustrated as I was, probably I wasn’t going to be appreciated by readers until way past 30.

But why so? When one can create the most imaginative of material. In terms of traditional publishing, would they risk publishing an emerging author? I couldn’t come to accept this because here I was inventing material, hoping that I would be noticed. It’s so important when you need a sign to know you’re doing well, a sign of appreciation. When it came down to my first short fiction, Pod, — back in late 2012 — it went unnoticed. I was extremely disappointed. Because deep in my gut, I knew I had a new idea. I still consider it a huge concept that really could be adapted as a short film, because that’s the way I conceived the idea. But anyway, that’s not important here.

I don’t want my work to go unnoticed for years and years. It’s like watching a cult film that didn’t receive the appreciation back when it was originally released. What I realised was that it comes down to reading and time spent writing, which is practicing. I understand that I struggle with basic gammar, but it shouldn’t affect the scale and vision of my concepts.

Why should one be appreciated after they are gone? Why not when they are still around, crafting work to express their imagination, but also for their audience. And mostly, through sharing our work, we share what we come to understand is the craft of writing, and in some way, we daydream to find answers in life. We analyse our life through writing. It’s like meditation for some individuals. A remedy. To have our work appreciated is to express we are not alone in our journey of crafting. We become relatable by a mutual connection. To have a fan-base — it’s not about the numbers, as each number is really a person. The readers are our audience. But I don’t want numbers to define popularity — comparing one artist to another. This shouldn’t be the case at all: it should rather define, praise.

As part of this post, I also wanted to discuss what we can do, in some way, to support emerging artists from any kind of platform. Whether we connect with these artists via Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Flickr, 500px or any other forms of social network. The least we can do is to Like, Favourite, Tweet & Re-tweet even if there’s no time to leave a comment. It really makes a difference — small gestures of appreciation.

I also encourage bestsellers, the well-established, to help support the emerging generation. If it weren’t for bestselling authors and editors, like Dionne Lister, the author of the bestselling epic-fantasy series The Circle of Talia, I don’t think I’d ever have come this far in my journey of understanding and projecting my ideas onto paper. I will always be grateful for her time and efforts, the strong friendship I have formed with her since I met her on Twitter. I emphasise this because there are probably those that doubt their writing, just the way I did — it’s easy to give up when no one wants to read your work or is very negative about it.

I continue to do this, even when there are many artists out there that really don’t know me, speak or tweet to me. I don’t spend a lot of time, but I do communicate by Liking, Favouriting, Tweeting & Re-tweeting. Even leave comments when I can. This is for the photographers, the painters, the authors, even for developers who provide tools such as Storehouse, ReadWave, Medium etc.

We as artists could also collaborate ideas on creative levels, or even feature work, e.g. blogging services to promote artists around the globe. Whatever the platform. Something like the sharing options of iOS8 extensions, metaphorically speaking. That help extend further reach. Paper by FifthThree provide this through a digital canvas for the painters. A dear friend Ksenia Anske does a fantastic job of featuring creative images for her blog posts captured by emerging photographers.

To take it a step further, we can help to promote and support a humanitarian cause(s). And add to this, we could listen out to those suffering from cyber bullying.
Spread the word.

. . .
The image featured for this blog post is by a dear friend and artist Zoya Tariq (Zoyatrqs). I strongly felt I wanted to feature her work. And contacted her on Twitter. She approved instantly. Thankful to her for this brilliant image. Her creative image can be found at Flickr, Facebook, Twitter.



Brevity of Roses

Anouska's Blog


My path has been glistening,
Woven in a tapestry
of Universal light..
Yet I have searched places
to find,
Swam oceans across time,
Walked through doors
and opened blinds.
Moving closer on my own,
to find something that is mine,
There’s no escaping love.
For here I am, this is me..
Insatiably obeying your heart,
Rendering my soul impenetrable
to the soft decay of the word.

By Anouska Banerjee

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He is My Light

Anouska's Blog


Your absence has brought forth
armies of monsoon
Sieging my desolate heart.

Hiking in the mist,
silenced in amusement,
the light of thy wisdom
illumines my world.

Breaking through this void.
what is seen is not the truth
But what is, cannot be said.

Let it so be ordained,
I shall forever listen
in silent amazement.

By Anouska Banerjee

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Anxious Hearts

Anouska's Blog


The quest to seek love
cradled in the infinite
myths foretold by seers,
is an Enigma unfathomable.

The soul yearns for solace,
As the heart screams for rapture.

Tucked in a secret garden,
Posing atop the turret,
You become an intangible reality..

Unreachable yet Awaiting
a witness to life,
Well-equipped to sketch those scars
Bridging an intrinsic part of life.

What a tangled web we weave…
when first we see love as a liability
in the aftermath of which,
dreams are wiped off counters
like undeveloped photographs,
before having even gazed
the rise of images to surface.

By Anouska Banerjee

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Stranger Than Fantasy

Anouska's Blog


Anouska Banerjee is… different. She’s an imaginative and thorough thinker in her own right in a rather degenerated world, but she rarely bothers to make an appearance to submerge with the lost crowd.

She radiates mystery.

Her wardrobe is black more often than not, like the rest of her versatile collection, reads less like a fashion statement than a warning. And for those who don’t heed it, there’s a cutter in her pocket. Only her eyes, all but drawn in heavy black make-up, hint at the strength and vulnerability inside.

No matter – no one ever gets close enough or is invited to notice. Since the second half of her 24th year of existence, her life has taken an unexpected turn..

*A short excerpt I wrote on seeing myself as I really am

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The Time Traveler


Anouska's Blog


I dig my toes into the sands of time,
having leapt from the ocean of eternal bliss,
a timeline is chocked once again out of dust,
the ocean of oneness awaits
the euphoric return of my spark;
the striking sight of its exceptional effulgence,
in the divine merging for which I will stand witness;
after having ripened its fruit of moksha from samsara;
replenished off memories;
no longer earthbound;
set forth,set free;
into depths surpassing time
withered no longer by the clutches of myriad desires
but freed from the insult of adjusting in a puppet’s world.

By Anouska Banerjee

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Insatiable Fervour

Truly amazed!

Anouska's Blog


I will usher you in
Free off forlorn desires of the flesh
Ill bathe you in the colors of the soul
Crimson heart,
Burning with desire,
Need not put out your fire..
Tomorrow will dawn on you
Like a baby’s first cry..
When I am done with you
Time will lay down
The earth will stand still
Like a burn
Your flames will be fumed
into existence;
No longer dimmed by
rust of the lust,
Yet bewildered,
Seeking fulfillment,
Neurotic euphoria..
Abode of ecstasy
Time after time..
Your wings take flight
As the moonlight crawls along your skin,
Where a novel is written
With every brush of my palm..

By Anouska Banerjee

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