Author: Rifka Bose /

A poem that has become a part of my special repository – Invictus

"Invictus" is a short Victorian poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley which he wrote from a hospital bed. It is truly inspiring and knocks sense back in to me each time I stumble.

Here goes:
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul

The last two lines of poem, sum it all for me - I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.

Yet why is it that one allows petty thoughts, emotions, difficult and trying situations, to get the better of us?

For if we truly are the masters of our fate, then no one, has the right to clean our slate!


Author: Rifka Bose /

Memories are ideally supposed to be positive happy thoughts that one tucks away in the pockets of one’s brain and comes back too as a pleasant feeling when we come across things that make us peek-a-boo into those very pockets.

However, what does one do with the bad negative ones? Can we not dig them 6 feet under and hope that they would fade away in time? That awful feeling of the ears turning warm, feet going cold, tummy curling and the heart racing 200 miles per hour!

If only, one could carve out those memories and toss it in the deep blue ocean hoping it doesn’t find its way back some day through the wash of the waves....if only...