Why I believe the Mona Lisa was created

This in no way states the truth of the Mona Lisa, it just states my truth of it. Everyone’s opinion is different as we experience differently. This is my unique insight on it. I just enjoy sharing my thoughts with you folks as we are all entitled to our own.

The Portrait speaks to me and thus it is my duty to put it down in words. This is a contrivable and conceivable personal interpretation as if you are familiar with my work, I am a vessel that writes, but certainly not the writer. The words will now flow in a natural manner like nature by allowing my cognition to interconnect with Leonardo da Vinci’s strong imagery depicting nature’s love for humans and its “should be” relationship.

           A play of words to exemplify Leonardo’s love for Humans and Nature

Nature wears a silky smooth satin that wraps us humans in a warm embrace. Its like that of a mother who sees her child cold and in need and so cannot resist but to keep him warm with a kind blanket that over floods the child with safety and keeps the head a float. The sound sleep of a child can only be heard by the mother in a secret  lullaby that leads her to not fall asleep but to rise into the heavens of a calm and serene dream. A dream of her baby’s innocent and teasing soft whisper. However we as children of sacred nature do not whisper but blare out blasphemous voices with nature still ever forgiving and ever caring. Hence I pray that you do not crucify nature. Now that we have a brief background on our involvement and coexisting relationship with nature let us move on to the nature of the painting.   

My interpretation of this work of art is in its complexity of meaning that can be derived from its simplicity of the subject painted. This  in itself strikes a thought of conveying to us that to be simple is complex. Most of us find it excruciatingly difficult to lead a simple life as our head is drilled towards thinking about painting a beautiful and difficult portrait of our careers, without leaving out our concern for the unimportant borders which we feel needs to have immaculate edges and curves with no fault to the frame.

On the background of the painting, lets introspect the valley painted to the left of Mona Lisa’s shoulder. Its opposite letter ” S” shape of a path allows me to believe that its meaning connects to our difficult journey through life and how many twists and turns it takes in all aspects to reach our “so called ” destination. The valley ends in between a crowd of trees. The trees symbolise people, figments of success that you hold ever so tightly and important figures in your life to which you have always looked up to. They are crowded around you showering their praise and blessings. This happiness leads you to the blue river which is painted to make you feel as though your smooth sailing through life having everything you worked hard for. As you sail through the left of the painting you see more trees of people, figments of success and important figures. Your boat is very close to them, in fact dangerously so, to the extent that you may run aground. Ironically your roots are not grounded in this state of life. whilst sailing in this delusion, you look opposite from the trees and ruminate into past thoughts to consolidate yourself that the American dream that your living right now is better then your past and that the taste of water that splashes from speed sailing soaks your tongue with more excitement and wonder then it did when sailing in the past. However the water is all the same. Your past is painted skilfully on the right side of the portrait in the section where there is barren land with no trees. This section of the past is where you had sailed many times, and sought that no one was looking at you in admiration. This inherently exposes our interpretation of reality, that sees the land of the past as barren and the land of success fame and fortune as a pedestal and pillar by which we abide. What is strange is that our perception is modelled by the general perception of the world, and this model is played and followed in our subconscious. Let me back this up with proof and reveal your subconscious to you.

Earlier I mentioned the section where there is barren land with no trees, and your eyes found that section in the painting. The question is why did your eyes pick that up?

It did so because we compare and see what we are told to see. Thus you located the seemingly “barren land” by comparing it with fame success and praise on the other side. The barren land in its intrinsic quality is not at all barren and is painted with a fertile green and brown. In looking at the other side our subconscious is made to see more as great and less as ugly. If the left side of the land was painted flatter then the right side, then the right side which was apparently barren would look fertile and a blossoming place to be. Its a matter of perspective. It would be better to see and appreciate the less, as less is always more. I believe in the minimalist philosophy yet in my application to life, I tend to see the right section as barren too and so I am slowly learning to practice what I preach. Its all up to you which side you choose or whether there is a side to choose from?

Eventually the praise, success, materialistic value holds no value to you, as boredom arises and increases with each tick of the hand, that crushes the time of your clock. As your sailing across the left, Your long hand reaches out to the far end of the river, towards the ocean and imagines itself holding another island in its palms (The island situated tall at the far end of the right side in the painting, next to Mona Lisa’s top right part of the head). The skin on your hand shows “ambition” but beneath the skin hidden in plain sight, the bloody letters do not reveal the words “GREED”.  Ambition is great but distinguishing between greed and ambition is tough as there is a fine line. There is a fine thread when your sewing the skin of your hands together to conceal the truth , and as the needle pricks you, you see the words greed. The sudden prick of pain is something we do not want to experience, and so we conceal it in a locked box labelled subconscious and swallow the key, not realising that we are chocking with emotion. Instead lets maybe look and experience the prick, to face it and move forward rather then jumping into a huge wound by running away from it. Would you rather a prick or a stich, its your choice?

As you sail to the new island, your iris in actuality reflects the gold from the sun, but in vain as you pull out your pocket mirror, you see facing you, eyes focused with gold dollar signs. In this money makes madness of a journey, You spend days, months and eventually years travelling towards the new island of your dreams where you dream of trees bigger then before, your name, the sign of Hollywood, you name it? Unfortunately, your dreams take in the daylight, but not your eyes, and the night takes in reality of which your eyes sleep through. Whatever happened to leaving your dreams for the night and staying awake during the day.  Personally I dream too and writing allows me to understand myself and my flaws, in order to correct them by bringing it into the sunlight. what I wanted to convey here is to live the dream during the day and dream during the night.

Your old now and your boat is as wrinkly as you, you lay there with infested dreams. You look up into the clouds with a cloudy sense of reality and then you ask god ” Why am I not able to reach the island of my dreams”, not realising that the answer is in the question itself as its a island in your dreams, a falsity or shall I say a fall-city of the mind. You do not give up and with wrinkly sagging arms and weak hands, you hold the idea of the island and with much strain like a weight lifter, you try to pick it up and raise it above your head. In doing so you do not realise that your voice box is a soft whimper of a dying dog, not fuelled with the youth full energy of a lions roar. The vein in your forehead begins to pulse, trying to let the truth full blood come out, it then screams “let me out, let him see the truth in my blood, the “greed” and the want for more”. The red blood cells form an army and come together as small troops (otherwise known as blood clothes), protesting against the illusion of man kind. “POP”.  The heavy weight of the island drops from your hand. Now numb with emotion you begin to see the island vanish and then you realise that you were in a desert all along chasing mirages.


There is a small bridge painted on the Right side of Mona Lisa’s shoulder in the background.  There is a certain humour to man kind and that is to complicate and create a difficult journey rather then to see the most simplistic and obvious route, One that simplifies purpose and brings joy. First of all there is a pain staking effort involved when it comes to making a bridge, but in this painting the bridge held no purpose for there was land below. Thus walking on land and walking on the bridge would still lead to the same result yet man made the bridge to complicate his journey when the destination could be reached by walking on land. The bridge had no purpose, unless the ulterior motive was to differentiate one man from another. Its quite childish to see a man on top of a bridge with his ego held high into the breeze, only to seek satisfaction in looking down and ridiculing the man below. However I am sure we do not see that in the modern world that we live in today (scoffs). The bridge in this case serving no purpose only bridges the gap between people. The synonym” bridges the gap” has its defined meaning but my perception of this synonym is to be taken out of context from this prescribed definition. To me it simply means to complicate relationships between people. Its like “another” thinking their more complex then “another”, but the word “another” is essentially the same. To add more clarity to this, I feel that we do not have an upper hand, we all have the same hand. Its very simple. Personally I find it hard to follow but I think if I did I would definitely be a monk.

Some may argue that the bridge was created for the purpose of aesthetics for everyone and I would counter that by saying, what may be beautiful to you may not be beautiful to everyone else. So whomsoever created the bridge out of appeal could create it by his own appeal to self interest rather then a collective perception of beauty. Thus it is a complexity as isn’t the creation of land an artistic creation by our creator that appeals to everyone, in fact a simple one, so why build unnecessary bridges when we can hold hands and walk on our collective journey. That would be a beautiful painting and a simple one indeed.

Some may argue that the bridge was created so that we could appreciate nature at a certain height, sight seeing we call it.  However there are hills and mountains that already do the job. Sometimes nature is sacrificed for bridges . If you really look at it we complicate everything even the word bridge is defined as a structure carrying a road, path, railway, etc. across a river, road, or other obstacle. Yet bridges are created for other purposes that do not define the purpose of the bridge itself. If we really were to admire nature I personally feel the world wouldn’t be such a mechanical one, and if we really were to admire nature, we could admire it the way nature intended us to admire it, quite naturally in fact and quite simple indeed. Nature allows us to build out of selfless love and with no expectation of receiving anything in return and then nature is exploited and killed. So Lets focus on building bridges for its sole purpose, to “help people” get to places conveniently. Rather then getting carried away into building bridges that serves no crucial purpose. We have to keep a balance between our human needs and nature. This painting of the Bridge “bridges the gap”( used in its original terminology this time) of Leonardo’s purpose to connect nature with human kind and showcases natures love for humans and its “should be” relationship.


She sits there not dwelling on a reality behind her as her eyes are looking at another.   Her eyes and facial features pose a soft and relaxing fragrance on those who embark on a journey of getting a chance to meet her. The shade above her eyes evoke a fizzling sensation that automatically urges us to see her brown iris with such a gentle strength. I feel stars all around my eyes when I am drawn into hers. Her kind spirit brings me to a state of reality where literally everything around me dissolves and quivers for a short instance. Automatically my existence is pulled closer to her by invisible strings of purity. Her mouth doesn’t move and in that stillness, she smiles the words of love.

Do you remember when I asked you this question.

Its all up to you which side you choose or whether there is a side to choose from and its your freedom to choose?

Please focus on the bold portion of the question

The answer is in the positioning of Mona Lisa which I believe portrays her unconnected ties with the world behind her. She is away from the confusion of life which simply  means that she is away from the background in the painting. Life does not grip on to the simplicity of her and the authenticity of her nature. This in turn allows us to dive deeper into her authenticity making us see her as real and her background a portrait. If you look at the background you begin to see the faded and illusory touch to it as compared to the clarity to which she is painted.  All of these minute details created for us to see her as a reality and a living image where as the background as Maya(illusion) is always missing a piece of the puzzle. Aren’t you always missing a piece of your puzzle?

At every stand point in my life which unfortunately I am closely associated with, I always find my self in constant hunger even when my plate is full, I tend to go to the kitchen to see if there is more food. But when I look at the Mona Lisa it reminds me that, there was never a plate, never a need to be so hungry, but a need to look at her as a image of reality, as a women that is awakened who sees no sides and no geometrical angles, except the full 360 angle where in a holistic perspective lies. Due to her whole full holiness, haven’t you noticed that she smiles the same smile to everyone equally. There is no differentiation but a shared unity. I believe that answers the question.

lastly this was painted in the Renaissance period, where there was a transition from the medieval world to the modern world and so I believe Mona Lisa is looking at the modern world and that’s why her image is ever captivating to our modern eyes. We are the modern world to which she is looking at, we are part of that painting, and since we coexist with the underlying meaning of the painting, we thus become attached to it. She marks the transition between the medieval world which is her background and our world. She looks at us as a living example of empathy to constantly remind us in terms of how we should live in our world. As you can see in this painting, our world is forever changing in colour, texture and character. Thus it is not painted, as it is for us to hold the brush. However her background, the medieval era is painted and thus made permanent, stating that the past can never be changed. She does not involve her self with that past, she looks to us quite deeply holding our stare to which ever direction we move, in a way that she has a close connection to us. Leonardo Da Vinci has painted a goddess, because of her qualities . She is firstly in between realities and thus sits with a still consciousness and immortality , excepting and loving of all, connected to our modern world, yet disconnected from it. Able to see through us, Able to exist and move us without a single movement. Able to love a criminal and a saint all the same. I could go on for centuries and years but  I am going to stop now as well YOU GET THE POINT.



My name is Param Amar Mirpuri and I am a professional Dancer, Writer, Orator and I work with Spoken Word.


I have been training for over 10 years. I am a professional Solo Freestyle Dancer and B boy that inculcates acting and character roles when I dance. I dance to all forms of music and can also dance to Bollywood music, showcasing Hip Hop to Bollywood beats and lyrics. This creates a fusion of Indian culture and Hip Hop. I have performed for a multitude of Events, Commercials, Shows and Competitions In India. I have now shifted to North London as a UK citizen to pursue dance further. Below are YouTube links that display my Impromptu dance form.













To anticipate is to know before it is known to all.  According to most it is to foresee the short comings in a business so as to not fall short in business. according to the majority it is the Martial Artists strategy to foresee the opponents next kick so as not to get kicked.

But how do you anticipate your problems and resolve them to such an extent that they seemingly and effortlessly occur to never have existed as they are tackled and strangled before hand (with one chop). The word “Anticipate” brings a burden of mental torture as it connects to the future. However I believe that Martial Artists do not foresee but are aware of the present moment so as to make the word “future” not exist. I also believe that a business man does not foresee the Short Comings, he simply makes deals with the client named present and declines offers by the client named future. This in turn removes the fear of future and thus the future does not haunt you anymore. Most of us are in a endless hurry to chase our so called aspirations and dreams leaving behind our smudged and rushed footprint which doesn’t evoke any story but a careless and hollow skulled walk. This is because each cell of the brain is dedicated and investing its time to something that is unreal. and I believe the anticipation of the future is that something which is unreal. In this web of a situation the only thing that is real to you is the lack of awareness for the moment and the future reeling you in like a fishing hook. In fact you are in this state of mind right now and I’ll prove it as you are probably reading this and thinking…. just read it, why think. Do not jump, leap, hop or skip but soar into the winds that caress your lungs with a cooling embrace. Flow like the waves that are not bordered and restricted by the rocky lands but rather infinite in a blue planet that is solely blue and solely you. Do not anticipate but seek refuge in an enjoyable wait that each moment has to offer which I can assure you is greater than the next. Love enters those who do not structure their future with constant anticipation. It enters humans with hearts bigger then themselves who let loose and swivel their hands in a lion’s roar of dance movement and earthquake of music. For what is left of life if we even start anticipating our deathbed because if we do, we will not sleep peacefully and when we die, we will not rest in peace.

via Daily Prompt: Anticipate

a BOy To a mAn!!!

A boy to a man, but for a man where is the boy?

We forego our child as we grow and thus we see a naked tree that has lost its leaves.

Where is the green, the grass of our childhood, wherein we rolled down to our office space adulthood.

Now the green holds a different meaning as it is but a smoked, a facade of childhood to be contained.

A Joint is like a container, the child is confined in it.

But a child doesn’t need a joint to be a child, as he is free without being contained.

It’s freedom without constraint.

When the tongue tingles to a temporary state of Ibiza, or in other words chemicals, we don’t become children again, but rather hooked on, pierced and hung by the neck with sudden bouts of high risen pleasure that leads us to softly bleed and cry our way to death.

However since I am attached to positivity, death is an early heaven or this could be a mask of negativity with a cherry on top. A sugar coating of death!!!

Those that fall in favour of my death’s salesman pitch, fall off the rooftop to live again as children.

Or on the contrary we can give birth to our inner child, waiting to merge with our maturity as a man.

Henceforth, a man becomes a boy that stands tall facing the world with a smile like an innocent child.

So did you find the child in you?


Iam a Dancer and Writer by profession. I shall let my youtube page speak for it self, so go ahead and watch my impromptu freestyle dances, oratory and a little comedy!!!!!

Youtube page:



For show bookings:




How do you feel?


When you’re walking on a busy road, and around you, you see a busy crowd, in this busy crowd, you see busy people, amongst these busy people, you see yourself. How do you feel?

When you somehow get invited to a party, where in you don’t know anyone, how do you feel?

When you pretend to smile or laugh but inside, you imagine another you walking away from your present conversation, wanting to be alone, how do you feel?

When you’re at the cinema watching a movie with your family, and you realise that the seats are only occupied by your family, the rest of the seats are vacant…. How do you feel?

When its 3 am and you’re walking on the sidewalk on an empty soundless street, and suddenly you hear a women scream, but a second later it’s all quiet.   How does she feel?

We feel alone on a busy road, we feel uncomfortable at a party, a selfish conversation that tries too hard to dominate, that tries too hard to impress us, makes us want to be alone. We feel comfortable in an empty cinema where it’s only our family. The scream on an empty street makes her feel pain, the scream haunts her for life, the scream gets recorded in her mind only to be woken up by its noise every night.

Now we know how we feel but to completely solve a problem, an infection, we need to kill it at its source. So knowing is not enough, but asking the question why, is definitely pinpointing towards a result, a solution.

Asking the question why is like pressing your feet to move the peddle of the cycle, but once the wheels are turned, their lies a temporary solution, but constant action, constant digging, persistent action, continuous peddling, brings about the cycle to remain balanced and steady while travelling towards the source, the solution.

So I kept on cycling, and eventually found out the reason behind why we feel this way. If you notice in all of the questions above if we remove people from the equation, there is no harm felt, no harm found.

We are the cause of our problems, we are our own enemies. We know our harmful capabilities and we fear one another because deep down we fear ourselves.

Let’s change the equation, and start pretending that another stranger is you. Let’s start looking at everyone else as you, a living mirror image of you. Now you wouldn’t want to see yourself raping a woman on a soundless street, you would take action and stop you. You wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable at a party, so you would start talking to you. At a cinema you would respect your movie and therefore you wouldn’t pester and talk, but rather enjoy your silence and your personal space. There would be no self centred domineering conversation because You wouldn’t need to impress you, due to the fact that you realise that you don’t need to impress you, you’re just being you, wouldn’t that be a pleasant conversation rather than one to walk away from.

There are a trillion you’s on this earth, so why don’t you help yourself out.



Iam a Dancer and Writer by profession, I dont want to say much as my youtube page speaks for it self… that is if you want to watch my impromptu freestyle dances, oratory and a little comedy.

youtube page:



For show bookings:








I am a Dancer, Writer and Orator, this is another piece of my writing work, a short story on what I define as real art!!!! Subscribe to my blog and youtube page…..  My Youtube page link is located at the end of the story

I wouldn’t call the stomach fat. I would call it the most creative creator, an absolute masterpiece, and for any masterpiece, pain, sacrifice and struggle is required. In this case at least for 9 months. The women which beats Picasso, with her 1 masterpiece, gives birth to not just a baby, but a lifestyle. Her reward is to sculpt and mould her creation for half a lifetime. When she is old and pale and forgotten in an old age home, with no one to visit her but the carers. She often tries to relive her past memories like that of her pregnancy, with the empty canvas beating at her stomach from the inside, wanting to be a complete portrait. I wish for once I could at least have the privilege to see my own creation, she prays before sleeping with her hands holding the cold railings of her bed, suppressing her pain, tensed trying to hold her tears back. Her face pale and frail, only to wake up every day like any other. The morning sun shines on to her face, but she doesn’t see the sun, she sees her son like a faint image slowly drifting away with the sun’s rays entering through it..

Years go by, her cries softer and pale, her inner voice weak, with one thought.

In a business suit and tie, with 2 beautiful kids tiptoeing at the edge of the swimming pool, he sits by the pool, his knees and bottom of his trousers wet, dangling his feet and playing in the water, feeling the pressure like friction to his feet as he pulls his foot back and when he pushes his feet forward, he feels the water to be effortless. Behind him is his mansion, glass enclosed from either side. He looks at his wife through the glass as if she is his masterpiece. She, smiling and holding the dough in both her delicate hands, swiftly turning it around in order to form a beautiful circle of dough by swiveling it.  With great care and joy, she slams it on the kitchen table causing dust particles to fly. She then claps her hands causing the dust to emerge from the crevices of her fingers, and slowly brushes her fingers across her face to clear the perspiration dribbling down her forehead, not realising that she has spread the dough all across her face. Observing this in awe, with a faint smile, he laughs inside. Although he laughs inside, she feels his laugh and looking down at the flattened dough, slowly raising her head her eyes see him with innocence. The eyes meet and he communicates through his hand gesture with a cheeky grin, that she has something on her forehead, she always does this, he thinks to himself in love with her beautiful flaws, gazing at her from the distance with an unbroken connection. His thoughts suddenly get redirected and in that he sees a small brick cottage with 4 windows, surrounded by fields and fields of green. The roof a dark brown held by the bricks, pale brown, he sees himself as a little boy with no care in the world, his arms raised out spiraling in circles, untill he felt dizzy and dropped on to the field where the grass stood half his height and looking up into the afternoon clear sky, with a blue that sent him to a calming and cooling sleep. Where in he woke up chewing a one strand of grass and looking at the window, he saw his mother with the dough and a smile on her face as she looked at her little boy playing in the field.” Food is ready my child ” she didnt scream but instead spoke in a very caring and loud tone almost as if her voice was waiting in excitement to see her son enjoy her meal. With the smell of food entering his nose from the kitchen, he jumped in exhilaration and ran into the house. “wash your hands first, I know you want to get sick and miss school but when you are older you will realise, the importance of it”.He sat down to eat, with his mother sitting opposite him and while having his meal he was interrupted with a thought. A thought that made him frown, a thought that froze his entire body and stopped him from eating his favourite meal.

“What happened dear, what are you worried about, why have you stopped eating?”she said carrying a worried face.

“Well mum you look after me now, and there is no dad, but who will look after you when you are older”, he spoke carrying a concerned face with wisdom much beyond his years.

“Well dear, when you are older and wiser , you can answer that question, but one thing I know is that you’re a good boy, and I also know that you will make the right decision” her tone confident and well-defined with not a hint of shakiness.

(So did you make the right decision, pick up the phone and call your mother and tell her how much you love her before it’s too late, we all make wrong choices, but let’s make the right choice and bring her home, not send her to a home, because a house is only a home when it’s a shelter to your creator.)

Coming out of the flash back, he realised his selfish lifestyle and decided to visit his mother in the home. I will not tell you what happened after the long most awaited meeting between mother and son but I will tell you her last words.

I am glad, I am dying in your arms, I saved my last breath for this, this place was not a home, I didn’t feel alive until now which is quite strange, I only thought of you, I kept my self alive knowing that this day would come, yes you did wrong but my love for you is unconditional, and you were my master piece, but I know what would make a better one…………

“What”?, his voice soft with anticipation

This moment here with you carrying me, on your knees, as you are a good boy who realised his mistake before it was too late, this moment captured it all. thank you son.

To get an idea of my Dance, Oratory and a little taste of Comedy, check out my youtube page and subcribe.





As she walked through the corridor, each admitted patient felt ease and comfort in hearing her footsteps.  Her heart spoke to everyone through the medium of her presence. Miraculously the old man depressed, nearing his grave, began to feel an inner glow that completed him as she entered the ward in which he lay. Restless but still in her presence, he spoke his mouth quivering,“ God has blessed me to spend my last few days with you nurse”.

Her inner eyes that refused to show its tears were overlapped by eyes of a roundish cute shape that seemed to gaze above the old man, her gaze like a yellow torch that made him feel bright. With soft words “God has blessed me with a patient such as you”. Her head tilted down, her eyes closed visualising the old man becoming younger and free from the constraints of sickness, imagining his voice changing from a shiver to a steady tone that defined life and confidence. Her hand comforted his shoulder and she smiled. She was dressed in her scrub (nurse outfit), which is a strong white shirt and skirt combination with deep multiple pockets. The fit of her Scrub, loose and flexible, perfected her personality, being flexible and able to adapt with utmost care to the most difficult of situations. However some nurses wore tight fit scrubs that suited their cold and straightforward harsh approach to patients. Removing the stethoscope from her neck she placed the end softly on the old man’s chest. She placed the other end to her ear that she treated as earphones, and she heard an erratic heartbeat. A heartbeat, that told a story in the form of a song with relentless painstaking lyrics. She felt very sorry for the songwriter, who watched her afraid of what she might say in hearing his heart speak the pessimistic lifestyle, he had been mentally allowing himself to live. She had heard enough, she went close to his ears and whispered a few words. In hearing these words his mind became an empty vessel. His eyelids slowly closing, he fell asleep. Sleep like a ghost that possessed his entire body. Sleep that allowed him to drift into a deep empty dreamless state. This was a type of sleep that he had left behind many years ago. His usual sleep pattern was limited to bouts of stress, nightmares that took over his day and a heavy dream that travelled through his veins, solidifying the blood in his arteries. He frequently woke up in shock, falling in his dreams.

He woke up, his eyes heavy with emotion, looking at the nurse that blessed him with such sound sleep. With his voice strained he said “good, good morning”. Adjusting the IV drip on his arm, she looked at him and softly said “don’t you worry everything will be just fine”.  She couldn’t speak anymore for she had known, she always knew right from the start. He tried to speak but wasn’t able to, his voice as feeble as a mouse. He somehow managed to cough out the words” come closer child, come closer”. She wiped her tears in the hidden, came closer to him, sitting on the edge of his bed holding his left hand, while carrying the weight of her emotion that lay heavy on her shoulders.

“Out, out”. (Interrupted by a wheezing cough), outside”. His hand then slowly loosened its grip and gradually placed itself on the bed, his fingers placed as though he was still holding her hand, his voice strained “don’t call the doc, doctor”. He let out a faint smile looked at her with teary eyes, a single tear rolling down the right side of his face. He then turned his head to the right, facing the window, fingers in his left hand slowly opening up. It all came down to his last message, unable to speak, his mouth jumbled, his face cold, he focused all his attention on his right hand. His eyes eventually closed, leaving his mouth still and open. “May he rest in peace” she said with tears and her heart heavy with pain. Her tone of voice was soft and shaky. She began to walk away, and just as she opened the door, she stopped still with a cold shiver running down her spine curved with sorrow. She felt intuitively the need to walk back to his body. Her each step tensed and she left her mind outside the door. Suddenly she began to feel that she wasn’t walking and that some sort of paranormal energy had taken over, making her approach him. She saw his body glowing like as if he was sleeping on stage with a yellow spotlight above him. She then began to notice his right hand, she was shocked to see that his fingers had formed a clenched fist pointing towards the window, which caused her to remember him saying the word outside.  Her eyes slowly reached the sun gazed window afraid of what she might witness. There she saw……………………….

She saw the unexplainable, but if a third party were to see her from the side, they would see an image of her looking at the window with immense light entering the room, her facial features and body covered in the light with sprinkles of sharp light moving through the spaces of her fingers and gap between the arm and stomach. Behind her a tall elongated shadow was formed reaching the door. The shadow of a man his hair combed back, young with desire.

She heard a voice

“My last wish was to have a daughter; I had always wanted a daughter. I was a lonely man, unhappy with the world and its change. During my entire life, I remained unmarried and alone. I had no friends and no foe. Those that showed care had concealed motives. I had lost the will to live, and so drank my life away thinking that alcohol would be my only friend, later realising that it had betrayed my liver.  I know you heard the beginning and middle of my life story through your stethoscope, but I just wanted you to know that the ending turned out just fine, a beautiful ending with You, my daughter by my side.”

The shadow faded away slowly and the light coming through the window gradually went back to the sun. She looked outside the window, the sky was blue and the trees swayed in the summer breeze. She smiled, emotional yet content seeing a small child playing with his mother and father. She then thought to herself, usually I feel sad, looking at a child with their father, because I never had one until now, “My wish was to have a father, Thank you god for fulfilling my wishes” .


Thanks for reading my short story.

I am a Dancer, Writer, Orator and Comedian.

To see more of my Talent follow my Blog, Youtube page and Instagram

Youtube page link:





Param Vibe Mirpuri


An Introductory Dive into Myself

A Simple Introduction

I am a Dancer , Writer, Comedian and Orator that loves imagination. I am working on other forms of art too but it is in progress and will take a certain amount of time to be revealed.

This is a picture of me, impromptu freestyle dancing shown in my latest video, and at the end of the page is the link to this video.

                                                NOW MY KIND OF INTRICATE INTRODUCTION.

cropped-img-20160507-wa0003.jpg In a contrast to what I have written above, I wanted to speak of certain kind of imagination.


Thus a single letter that forms a self-reflection of you. Now the very character of a letter is that each letter has a psychology, it’s very psychology is to group together to form a word in order to add meaning to itself. I will find your word, I will find your belonging, I will find yourself in you. You will understand your meaning.

In lay man’s terms I am a writer and Orator

With each rotation bringing a sense of clarity through confusion. The ancient spirits and tribal environment mentally allows me to become an animal that moves to the rhythm of God.

              Quite simply put I am a dancer.

There are more art forms to be , and within time you will see, it’s in the cultivation process and once the plant grows, I will not show you, you will automatically see it. In show and tell I am not about show I am about the tell, to express naturally. I don’t believe in myself, I believe I am nothing, a puppet of the almighty, where the strings are untangled and attached to God, The Omnipresent being that resonates in all of us, I believe in……  . I cannot finish that sentence as God is beyond words.

              Quite simply put I am a medium

Sometimes the writing becomes shady and unclear to some , so to add light to minus the shade, the word resonates in high-resolution.

    Quite simply put, it is lay man’s terms and high-resolution being clarity

Here is the link to my impromptu unplanned freestyle dance. ( Apart from this I am also known as Param Vibe and Param Amar .)