Teachers are those who make us learn.
Forgiving all the imperfections,
They stand by us.
Destroying tedious delusions,
Keeping faith and hope
They cling to ‘more’.
Teachers are friends,
Who tell the good or bad truth.
Limiting the constrictions,
Empowering the youth in all,
They shower their blessings and wisdom.
Let this beauty of truthful and
meaningful persons be alive forever;
Happy Teacher’s Day is here!
In the stunning beauty of landscape
The clouds are passing, having different shapes
Some become symbolic and some don’t
The sky is limitless to accept all those.
But the chaos of the city,
And the glittering mouths are not safe.
Hiding secrets of days wrapping with grace!
Oh no! Only the shit has been left.
Growing no more,
Life is racing not knowing how to race more.
No more time to respect values and nature!
Life is like chasing others.
Amongst the glittering chaos
There is peace in the darkness
There is hope of beauty,
In the night-light;
Maybe a little dim.
The shaking leaves of coconut tree
Don’t know where to stop
And how to, in the stormy waves
A trivial mind looking for likable silence
Amidst the monotony.
When the sky can’t tell nature’s destiny
It can wrap the globe with grey of clouds
It can behold the memories of love
That made the soil wet,
Plethora of imaginative lines
Drawing pictures of the night sky.
Those eyes were the most beautiful,
Yet they are not,
They are filled with greed,
They are so random, spry
Seeking something always!
Do they know the values?
Can they dive into someone’s soul?
Universal truth is what!
A hopeful afternoon of Tuesday
Turns slithery ;
Waiting and working of the day
Brings misery.
Living the passing Caesalpinia,
Through the windows of love,
Crossing the bridge of mauve,
There are dusts of raws.
Where rhythm dwindles
I know; still pure! still true are lives!
Not their misbehaviour, neither their attitudes,
Should I grant as my virtues.
I can be lonely like the fleeting clouds,
I can be alone like the impervious roads,
Having an unexpected wanderlust on the sultry lanes,
I alone can manage my within and outside storms.
I can shelter myself alone.
My serene world not the microcosm just,
Is changing fast, so fast!
Only gloom has wrapped
And the crowd of people – grasped.
So strong, dangerous and insistent
The dance of hell being consistent.
Life is now like the dime dust ,
Stamped by the elves’ lust.
Oh! the nuances of immune has been clutched
Perhaps no wonder to be touched.
The land of dreams is pertinent.
Then, are the dwellers impertinent?
Sweet patch of cloud is flying high
As if to clinch the sigh;
And dusts also die.
Leaving the question of why?
Should we ‘feel blue’?
Or we should seek the clue!
Probably the darkest days are passing,
Uncertainty in every tinge of time;
All our surmises – as if are sneezing;
We in the trap of “wee-rhyme”
Counting the days and mere-chime.
Myriad lives are grunting,
But the elves are dancing, dangling!
Children and aged are now equitable
In the course of isolation
They are insatiable.
Now, the testimony of integrity is – only separation;
So live in isolation.
Don’t be a dolt,
Keep a hold.
Weal-daisies will bloom
To gift us happy boon.
The eyes were awake
That gloomy night of blare;
Everything was listless,
The clutter in distress;
Taught something great
When the truth met.
Someone tiptoed in my mind
And then to my heart,
Gifting sumptuous treasure
Which was beyond measure.
Making the evils baffled
‘Life’ was impelled.
Power of the supreme says
‘Reverence and Responsibility’ stains.
I am complex
So I rummage apex.
I can create
But I can also incapacitate.
The way you incite me
Is the way you look at me.
Coercive subconscious of commoners
Where harmony matters.
And no clutter
When rampant whits of grey glitter;
Their pensive faces glare!
The hemispheres differ
As the persons differ.
Just like the white angel
The hemispheres try to mingle
But end in ‘shingle’.
Above all I am the riddle!
Wishes are dangling amaltas
And leaping picturewings ;
Idyllic and free indeed .
Hoarded in intangible layers often ,
But not always .
Day after day they enamour us
In search of the fabled interlude .
Sometimes brewing tenaciously
Deep and deep .
When doom bloom with faltering paces ,
They tiptoe having no graces .
Prevailing folds to unfold......... 