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Ansul Noor

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Ansul Noor

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Born
Earth/Moon/Sirius
Website

Genre

Influences
Rumi, Bulleh Shah, John Keats,Daphne du Maurier, Jane Austin, Khalil G ...more

Member Since
May 2014

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Mysticism is the core of her being. This life is a mystical journey. Where time and space are just few of the elements that form the intricate equation of mysticism. She is also a Psychic, Dreamer and a firm believer of the 'unknown' and 'past life experiences'.

Shadows, light, dimension, invisible paths, and profound emotions, are the essence of her writings, poetry and imagery.

Guided by her ancestral spirits, encouraged by her parents, she intuitively started writing poetry and painting almost 25 years ago. She is self-taught and has taken a few basic lessons in drawing as a child. Following the 'inner' eye, she started painting, using various media, preferring pastels, watercolor and naturally occurring pigments and organic material. Sinc
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Ansul Noor I go out and converse with Mother Nature or my mother/father....!
Ansul Noor The joy of bringing characters to life.
Average rating: 4.69 · 13 ratings · 4 reviews · 9 distinct works
Soul Fire- A Mystical Journ...

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A Different Kind of Garden

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The Invisible Rose

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Skin Sensibility- A New App...

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Quotes by Ansul Noor  (?)
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“Only when we are thrust into the deepest and most terrible corner of life, do we see our real friends emerge from the shadows , one by one- shining the light of comfort and hope. Those are the ONLY friends that matter.”
Ansul Noor

“By some tear in the wish fabric, or the casting of a prayer, or the falling of some lonely star, the enchanted garden was not lost to me, but lost in me.”
Ansul Noor

“This continuos loop of Love Divine,
like an Angel, sublime yet blind.”
Ansul Noor

“There is only gain when you love Nature so profoundly, the richness is everlasting , however much spent'.”
Ansul Noor, Soul Fire- A Mystical Journey through Poetry

“By some tear in the wish fabric, or the casting of a prayer, or the falling of some lonely star, the enchanted garden was not lost to me, but lost in me.”
Ansul Noor

“This continuos loop of Love Divine,
like an Angel, sublime yet blind.”
Ansul Noor

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning— little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore.”
Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

“No sight so sad as that of a naughty child," he began, "especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?"

"They go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer.

"And what is hell? Can you tell me that?"

"A pit full of fire."

"And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?"

"No, sir."

"What must you do to avoid it?"

I deliberated a moment: my answer, when it did come was objectionable: "I must keep in good health and not die.”
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre




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message 2: by Ansul

Ansul Noor Soul Fire- A Mystical Journey through Poetry now available on amazon.com and Barnes and Noble -ebook


message 1: by Ansul

Ansul Noor Stay tuned for upcoming book by Dr.Ansul Noor


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