This poem is an ode to the horse that my grandfather had. I cherish all the beautiful memories, I spent with it.
This is a story about a protagonist (Dungar Mal) who is a rich-brat, and Dharam Pal who wants to bring discipline to his life.
As the rode past over the bridge that lay over the mighty river swelling with water, he had only one feeling in mind – to give up all, to stop the onward journey and plunge…
Idyllic florescence A neonate, alluring chap blooms like the flower. Save
Everything has a purpose, big or small. Things that you read, see, hear; they all affect your actions. Sometimes they may help win big battles and sometimes battles not so big.
Here’s my experience of giving up the mobile phone for eight days and the after experience, all in the name of Paaryushana (the jain festival).
This poem is about, despite being content with their state; how people have different anathemas at different stages of their lives, starting from the unborn stage to the stage when they are counting their last breaths. And most interestingly, none of these anathemas are real. In the next stage or in the coming stages, people overcome them.
Say for example, when we were a fetus, and we were enjoying the warmth of the mother’s womb; the only anathema was the light and sound of the world. In the next stage (as a child), the person, rather starts enjoying the spectrum of light. What attracts a child the most, is nothing but the bright colors.
Just Be Daring..
This poem simply means that, the world will be my dream world when we are on the coordinate (0,100) of a graph ? on which we have ‘percentage defense expense’ on the x-axis and ‘percentage development expense’ on y-axis.
That is possible when the world economies spend nothing on defense (as maybe there is no fear of any attack and all peaceful). And all the money is spent on the growth and development…
Yesterday, I got a good scolding from my younger brother. He said I have been wasting my time since past few months writing. According to him, there are two prerequisites for being a writer, either a broken heart or a residence out of the city in the middle of some woods (like Robert Frost had). According to him, if I can’t write about, or I don’t have either of the two then I can’t be a writer.
So, here is the story of my first love, then the second one, and the finally a failed marriage. He has no idea how many times I had the broken heart and how many times I had to make a move.
Not all that we hear and read about from the most authentic sources is the correct information. Despite, it being incorrect, it may not be ill-intentioned. This innocent girl is just scared, to tell the truth to the world; just because she thinks the world will laugh at her.
Thus, within the confinements of your rigidity, just try and be open to all possibilities.
This article is not intended to generate any serious thoughts of the readers; it is a light-hearted article and should be taken in that sense only. The facts discussed here are only author’s viewpoint (and backed by her lack of knowledge and wisdom), not intended to hurt any of your religious or other sentiments
This is one love story which has been closest to my heart, forever. This is the first part of this poem. It describes the beginning of this love story between two eternal souls. For the second part of the story check out ‘Their Last Conversation’.
This is the poem describing the last conversation between Radha and Krishna. It is said that after this fateful night they parted. Though the distance was merely physical.
If even my God could forgive a sinister as big as ‘a terrorist’, do we as normal human beings deserve to hold and carry the burden of grudges against them? Or we could also just forgive them?