The PilgrimageThe Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I finished another Paulo Coelho book. I like the writings of Paulo because of the life in it. The Christian imageries he uses whole along his novel makes it more lively. I also was travelling all along with him to this pilgrimage to San Tiago. I too was fighting with the legion when he fought with it. He found his sword now it is my duty to find mine to find the purpose of it. Sometimes this type of novels gives us a power to fight a good fight. The we are living this earth demands a lot but in a world full of voices we forget to listen to the voice of silence. The novel was teaching to listen to the inner voice. This is my fourth experience with Paulo Coelho he is always inspiring me and go with full power. He is taking his own saint Paul in his writings. Many times the words of Saint Paul came alive in this novel. A great work, I recommend this to anyone who needs to go ahead with much inspiration and motivation.

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My Mother

Mother, db15d45b78e8c2d951857d48f0d9d0a1there is no one cared me like she cared.

She showed me her love to me the every second I lived with her

Many times I showed my bad face to her, but her face was so blooming

She was having a great hope that one day I will be alright.

That hope made me to stand here to think about her

The moments I fell down her face told me to wake up son

You have to walk an extra mile

I will walk for her, till we both reach our destination

Near to his death bed

The day I went to hospital happen to be the day God has chosen for him. While his wife was crying near to his cold body all the hospital was in silent. I was thinking about their children they may be in a class room listening to teachers and may be thinking about their father who will come with chocolates evening. I helped the nurses to carry his body, coldness of his body reduced my fever. She was trying to wake him up by her loud voice. Till day before last she was able to do that but that day her voice became too low, he cannot hear it anymore. Years had passed a lot but still my ear listens her voice calling her husband. I can see through my eyes the silent body of that man and great agony from the face of that man. It will remain till my last breath pass from my nostrils.  

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