With only three days before the Kochi International Book Fair,
 it’s time to get in gear and invite your friends, family & readers
 to the fair! You can use the posters below to post on your
 social media platforms and promote your book for the Book Fair.
 This is an amazing way to build a buzz for your book at the fair! 

Your Readers can pick up, “Ancient Indian Quest for Knowledge:
Patanjal Yogadarshan"
 at our stall and avail a 10 % discount on their copy of the book.
 You can find us at stall numbers 1, 2, 17, & 18
 between the 29th of November to the 8th of December.

If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to us!

--

Regards

Team Notionpress

Attachments area

In the heat of the night

so direct in its simplicity,

the virgin in the bright red dress,

conceals nothing from our sight.

At the crack of dawn, the night slides.

Myriad images, stored in memory,

archetypes, old and new,

dance before the eye of the mind.

With instincts so honed and ...sharp and ever ready,

 like the Prince ...beneath the stormy lake.

In simplicity of the spirit of giving,

 and in the humility of receiving the creativity wll dawn.

Beneath the lake the mermaids sleep,

by the night they rise and take away the bounty

and return where they belong.

and ever longing to belong, at last, at once...forever.

A lovely little world wrapped in memory
and memory wrapped in oblivion.
A lovely sea where the horses gallop endlessly,
and with the horses gallops the sea.
There are moments when all the four feet
of the galloping horse are held
up in the air, suspended;
and begin the moments when each foot falls in the wet sand
gently one by one;
the way to live,
and the way to let go of life.

Sushama Karnik (c)
23. 11. 2019

Thanks for the gif @Souheil Ghammachi

Souheil GhammachiTimeline

a day ago

Nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit...than a secure future.
The very basic core of a living spirit is its passion for adventure.
The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun...

-Christopher McCandless
“Into the wild”

A Birth Awaited
She was not even born before she was claimed by blood-thirsty power- hungry history-making forces.
They expected her to be the answer to the sorrows and miseries that were ever so simple, and yet not over, following the mankind to the edge of all they knew.
Yes, they conceived that answer to be 'Beauty'.
Where was she to dwell, if at all she was allowed to be born,
with their consent, with their mutual consent which was hard to procure?
And why conceive her as 'Woman, or Man'?
The biggest hurdle was in giving Beauty a gender,
and the biggest block was finding a language that had no place for the rules of grammar,
and immunity to the aggression of power.
Somewhere along the line
some of them then began to align
into an amorphous tribe
of primitives they had learnt to leave behind
as one dread disease: 'anachronism'!
Suddenly they were ashamed
as they realized that they were closing ranks
and that the thing whose birth they were waiting for
demanded surrender before it was born!
That thing asked for
a surrender of what they called 'Identity',
a conscious giving up of their 'history',
a knowing forgetfulness of the need to exist.
And before the thing was born,
they understood the need to kill it.
It was a curse in an insidious form, and for once they all agreed.
Since then the history of the mankind is being written in terms of unspoken dualities.
The border can never be drawn,
because the world has acquired possibilities and potentialities that take the borders out of the range of definitions.

And 'Beauty' is yet to be born

Sushama Karnik (c)

GOOGLE.COM

Image: 567 najlepších obrázkov z nástenky Tváre v roku 2019 | Tváre ...

Found on Google from pinterest.com

In a way, our shadow defines what we are on the way.
It is a repository of the roads we travel,
sometimes tinged by the color of our sky,
sometimes by the gravel trodden,
sometimes by the deserts,
sometimes the sand
and the barren land!
Our shadow is the fragments of our history,
parts of the puzzle we call life.
All along the journey
is our effort to surpass our shadow!.

Sushama Karnik
Mar12, 2018

Thank you, Sonali, for the image: 'Puzzle Called Life'

Originally shared by Sonali Dalal

Puzzle called life

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• 
  Reeta Mishra

  How are you Mam?REETA here. will you send me your number please? I've been trying to contact you. My mobile no.9619233426

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  Sushama Karnik

  +Reeta Mishra Oh dear, how are you? I tried to contact you several times last year, and gave up. I will contact you on this number soon.

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• 
  tony langmach

  +Sushama Karnik
  Oh, The Humans shadows & vice versa...
  Greart poem Sushama,thanks.`))

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  Sushama Karnik

  +Anna .a Nice to see you Anna, and I hope the winter is over by now and that shadows of humans are visible now.

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Autumn Is Moving

The autumn is moving; it's moving fast.
And I can't get enough of watching.
In between a pause, a sojourn where the season stops.
My town, my city, a log seems to block the passage of the season.
It rains, off season. It always does in this city, in this state.
I can do nothing to stop the rain. It rains until it floods.
The city is no longer the same.
All seasons crowd here in this city and forever seem to block the passage of time.
This city is an aberration against the backdrop of time.
So the seasons gather and there is a fog.
The seasons blur and merge in the fog.
It is an eternal autumn or eternal rain.

рт

Wharfedale by Moonlight, 1871 by John Atkinson Grimshaw

I KNOW MY WAY

A minimalist traveler, her world is small , her feet trained to walk.
I saw her on my way back
as I prepared my journey back to my home.
A girl , a child still under the age of six.
She knew what she needed on her trip;
a backpack light enough for her to pull
merrily along the road,
so her back would not break under the load,
and a bottle she would easily pull out and drink
without having to stop clumsily
in the midst of strangers and get pushed around.
Perhaps it was a daily round from school to home,
and once again back from home to school.
It was not the road 'less traveled',
a humdrum road she everyday walked.
The resilience, the grace, the ease with which she
walks the route will be the legacy to carry when she grows.
It's the minimalist traveler who knows the secret of the travel and the roads.

Milan LakićTimeline

2 days ago

 Photo album: Црно - беле

I know my way, bye...

An evening,
the slanting sun,
everything awash in the autumnal haze,
the trees bare,
magnificent in their austerity,
dignity,
a day when nothing happens and nothing goes.
The light falling on walls,
on the street vendor's nursery of flowers, turns around
and halts to focus on the temporary shadows
moving in and out.
Look up and you will see the balcony of the house,
waiting in expectancy
for someone to come and buy
the flowers with the hope that some day some lad will serenade and some lass will come and listen.

Thanks for the image, @Milan Lakić

Milan LakićTimeline

2 days ago

Nelson Molina is an Brazilian painter