LINKED ACROSS

The Boat Mail stood silent and ready. Our ticket to the land of our forefathers was just a train journey away and freedom was just a bridge away.

We thundered over the sea, our eyes misting with memories. The crossing had been harrowing, the fear of navy patrol raging over the high winds playing mayhem of the packed open boat. We didn’t want to return to the land of our birth.

Interned in the camp at for a year, we were now leaving the island for the mainland. Across the majestic bridge was a new life, a resurrection from the dead.

* Pamban Bridge: This 100-year old Indian Railways sea bridge is breathtaking; here’s why:
Imagine a railway bridge over the sea which ‘opens up’ to allow ferry and boat movement! And, what makes this bridge even more wonderful is the fact that it was built 100 years ago! Till 1988, the Pamban bridge was the only surface transport that connected Tamil Nadu’s island of Rameswaram to the mainland. Said to be an engineering marvel, the Pamban bridge was once India’s longest sea bridge, till the Bandra-Worli sea link came up in 2009.
https://www.financialexpress.com/photos/business-gallery/787875/pamban-bridge-indian-railways-train-rameswaram-news-facts-images/
To know more click the link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pamban_Bridge
*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt© Dawn M. Miller

THE BOAT MAIL RUMBLES ACROSS THE PAMBAN BRIDGE
THAT CONNECTS THE ISLAND OF RAMESHWARAM WITH THE MAINLAND
RECENT ROAD BRIDGE ABUTS IT
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CONFERENCE OF THE TOOLS

The tools had a conference to settle some complaints.  Brother Hammer presided.

Several suggested he should leave because he was too noisy.
“If I leave, then Brother Screw must go too. You have to turn him round and round to get him to accomplish anything.”
“If I leave, Brother Plane must leave too, for his work is all surface, no depth.”
“Will go, if Brother Rule also withdraws. He measures folks as though he’s the only one right.”
“Sure, if Brother Sandpaper does. He is always rubbing people up the wrong way.”

In walked the carpenter, put on his apron, went to his bench, and during the day used the hammer, screw, plane, ruler, sandpaper and all the other tools.

*This is an abridged version. Sorry couldn’t shorten it more. The original version is found in
http://deaconninure.0catch.com/pages/A-D/carpenter_tools.html

*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt ©Nick Allen

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/3381218
https://ezinearticles.com/?The-Pertinent-Parable-of-the-Conference-of-the-Carpenters-Tools—A-Lesson-in-Practical-Leadership&id=3381218

*This is an abridged version. Sorry couldn’t shorten it more. The original version is found in
http://deaconninure.0catch.com/pages/A-D/carpenter_tools.html

*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt ©Nick Allen


BELOW THE BELT

Manickam, where are we going?

Down below, Sir. Please watch your step.

How did you find this place?

Actually, by fluke. I stopped my bike here. The wheel was wobbling. After setting it, just stood near the parapet to catch my breath. I glanced down and saw the darkness below. Thought it a likely place to investigate.

So what did you find?

I saw the ground disturbed. Closer look yielded some anomalies. I called to inform you.

You did right. Let’s see.

Sir, I dread what we may find. Can’t face them.

True. But we have to do our duty!

*This was inspired by  the recent spate of child kidnapping & girl/women sexual abuse & murder in my city & country
*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

CRAFTING HERITAGE

Let us visit Dakshinchithra when Uncle, Aunty and their kids come. Dakinshinchithra, what is that? DakshinaChitra is a heritage village that portrays the living beliefs of art, folk performing-arts, craft and architecture of South Indian traditions. . It has a research unit, crafts bazaar, playground anad an area to hold religious functions, stone workshop, and souvenir kiosks. Wow, how did it come into existence? Well, Deborah Thiagarajan, impressed by rural south India, wanted to preserve the culture. With the help of architect, Laurie Baker, she conceived this place. He didn’t charge any fee because of his interest in rural architectural design! The highlight is the reconstruction of 18 heritage houses from different parts of S.India. I can’t wait to see the place!
*Dakshinchithra means a picture of the south. The museum is a center for living traditions of art, folk performing arts, and crafts set up with the objective of preserving and promoting South India’s heritage and culture. Special programmes feature dances, crafting of necklaces, basket weaving, and puppet shows. The museum also holds workshops for training in traditional crafts such as indigo dyeing. Potters trained at the center are issued a certificate of their skills by the regional office of the Department of the Development Commissioner (Handicrafts). Classical dances such as Bharatnatyam, Mohiniyattam and Kuchipudi, and music concerts are regular events held in the large amphitheater. Each year, 15,000 school children visit the museum.
To know more about Dakinshinchithra please access following websites. 
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DakshinaChitra & http://dakshinachitra.net/

*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt © J.S.Brand

TALES OF LIFE

Legend says a wise man invented a game to represent the kingdom consisting of the king himself, his queen, rooks, bishops, knights, and pawns, all of which were important.

This was to convince his tyrannical Indian king, Shihram, of the importance of each resident of his kingdom.

He then requested the king to put one grain of wheat on the first square, two on the second, four, eight, sixteen and so on, until all squares were filled.

Surprisingly, the king found that such an enormous amount of wheat did not exist!

The king learnt two lessons – of life & of not underestimating small things in life!

*From https://www.ichess.net/blog/history-of-chess/

*Friday Fictioneers is talented group of enthusiasts penning down a story, a poem, a prose, etc., expressing their heart about a photo prompt © Jeff Arnold

CHOSEN & CHOICE

An infinite God Who is beyond comprehension,
Chooses me as His own without any aversion.
The God of Abraham, Isaac & Jacob
Singles me out to make me His very own!

I am His masterpiece, the work of His Hand,
Fashioned as His exhibit, though made of sand!
He has made His pick, now I must make mine,
To respond to His call and make no whine.

Marked and branded by Him,
Hunted and haunted by Him,
I make Him my choice, following Him as I ought,
Worshipping Him as God, denying Him naught!

Chosen to be tested and proven to have no blame,
Willing to be made worthy to be called by His Name.
Chosen to obey and lay down my best,
I will not baulk, though I leave behind the rest.

How can I deny Him whatever be the cost,
He did sacrifice His Son to pay for my crime.
I choose to follow Him to the utmost,
For He is and always will be for me in time!

Sabina Tagore Immanuel

*Poem inspired sermon preached by Ps James spoken on Sunday 28th Oct 2018 in NLAG, Chennai, S.India
*Image credits Creator: roberthyrons Credit: Getty Images/iStockphoto Copyright: roberthyrons Information extracted from IPTC Photo Metadata.

IN THE SHADOWS

Rest, He said, under my care,
I wouldn’t, as I sought to tear
Things apart with my share,
Unable to sit silent and bare.

Relax, He said, under my yoke,
I didn’t, for I knew the mock
This quiet stand would bring
And the ridicule that would sting.

Step back, He said, its my plan,
I struggled, for it felt so wrong
To do nothing, while others ran,
Here and there with burdens strong.

Calm down, He said, I know the way
I couldn’t, for I loved my role so dear.
It seemed a waste to be held at bay,
When a million things pulled at me near.

Be still, He said, know I am God
I wept, for I lost all I’d earned thus far.
I remembered His burden is light,
And His will the best for He’s my Lord.

I was all for doing,
He was all for abiding.
I thought I knew what is right,
But only He knows what’s best, day or night

Sabina Tagore Immanuel

*Photo courtesy https://unsplash.com/photos/ZmeOcrsECVg