Category: Looks

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Just A Stone.


It is just a  huge stone,

It is only a  shapeless stone,

It looks expressionless and prosaic,

It has a  long story behind it.

It has a history unknown to many.

 

The faceless stone has been for centuries,

It has seen generations of men,

It has heard them talk incessantly,

It has noticed them pass uninterruptedly,

It has  recorded confidential matters  silently.

 

The stone had been lying there for ages,

It had not been cared for by one and all,

Disregarding it as lifeless stone,

Incidents took place around it.

 Yet, it lies there unperturbed from time immemorial.

 

You could  easily set aside it as a stone.

Addressing it as a pig-headed bone,

Laughing at it with disdain and contempt,

But do remember if it is turned upside,

It has a whole lot  to relate that would put you to misery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Age Child Lesson Life Looks thoughts Wish

A Birthday Party.


It was a birthday party,

It looked like any other  party,

The child was the  main party,

She did not know about the party.

 

The child was a frail one year old,

She was in her mother’s hold,

Looking at all with a fear untold,

She felt cramped in the hubbub cold,

Poor child! she trembled in the fold.

 

The gathering was excited most,

Games were for them almost,

The couples danced  vibrantly to the toast,

Leaving a feeling of distaste utmost,

 Oh! the poor child was ignored foremost.

 

The cake was cut with much fanfare,

 Happy Birthday ranted high in the air.

The balloons were burst in the fare,

Raising a loud noise beyond the dare,

Oh! the poor child looked like a timid hare.

 

Was not the party for the child? I enquire,

 Nay! it is for the adults, I hear,

Should not the children participate? I jeer,

 Never! It is a boisterous revelry, very clear,

 Oh! the  poor child started crying in fear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Anger Experience Lesson Life Looks mind silence subscriptions thoughts turmoil

Looking Daggers


Daggers are weapons sharp,

Eyes are organs incisive,

Daggers bring fear and night mare,

Stains of blood are smeared everywhere,

Eyes emit evil and conceit,

Remnants of hate are found everywhere.

 

The physical assault is horrendous,

As a stab slits open the physique,

Inflicting a damage deadly  to the body,

The mental attack is torturous,

As a  look tears apart the psychic,

Paralysing the mind to a desolation.

 

She looks daggers goes the simile,

Looks are more penetrating than a sting,

They kill the spirit of life  on the whole,

Decimating the liveliness from the soul,

It is definitely worse than a brutal murder,

As it impoverishes the  mind of its glory.

 

The piercing dagger and the evil looks,

Kill the life and spirit in a momentum,

 As stabbing  fiercely takes the life out,

Looking deceitfully throws the mind asunder,

There fore  life holds no value basically,

Lo!the spirit lies dead unceremoniously.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Sprucing Up


The garden was stocked with fallen leaves,

Gathering them up was a task in a fleece,

There was an uninterrupted fall from trees,

Leaves came down slowly after a gentle breeze.

 

Green and yellow leaves  lay scattered without a cease,

Twigs small and big landed down in the crease,

They made the garden look like a messy freeze,

Inadvertently it seemed an entertainment set to please.

 

Cleaning up was a target beyond reach,

Finding a team was a difficult breach,

The work had to be done with a screech,

As there was no time to impeach.

 

Like the dry leaves thoughts crowd

The mind quivers in a desperate shroud,

Sprucing it up seems to be a task loud,

Resuming equanimity is like a falling cloud. 

 

The imbalance strikes hard mercilessly,

Reviewing it generates apprehension enormously,

 Yet gardens could be swept and cleaned spotlessly,

 But the mind  withholds the trials though not erroneously. 

 

 

 

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Actions Age Anger Child Compassion Default Experience Imprisonment Lesson Looks Love mind Study subscriptions Sympathy Theory thoughts True turmoil Wish

Schools Today


Schools are production houses akin to industries

They are into manufacturing  process with diligence,

Children are spun into yarn without any thick and thin,

Then woven into weft and warp  without any fault,

Finally  they find their light more or less like a cloth

 

Schools are into intense competition,

Learning by rote is the only assumption,

Reading becomes a mere  automatic application,

Writing takes the form of  just copying,

Comprehension is nowhere to be found.

 

Children perform under pressure,

Losing their childhood in the course,

Scores usurp the central place,

Assimilation takes the back seat,

It is a mechanical mess up.

 

Tests and exams are predominant,

High grades are the goal of the parents,

Streams of examinations besiege the young mind,

Abandoning them into a cess pool of valuation,

Dooming them to a world of professionalism.

 

Each child has a liking of its own,

Each one can live his life  only once,

Robbing them of their play and leisure,

Compelling them to forsake their ambition,

Is a dreaded sin than any other.

 

Schools with excessive achievements,

Steal the show and grab the status,

Their demands make us fall back,

The education imparted is no way fabulous,

Yet we find a long queue  waiting in their gates.

 

Two and a half-year old has  to take a test,

Parents have to attend interviews,

Those who are supposed to be in the cradle,

Come out to face the stern teachers,

The sweet smile converts itself to a loud cry.

 

Oh! what a cruelty  the children undergo,

Where are you Blue cross and Red cross?

Taking care of animals is humanitarian,

How do you miss the plight of the toddlers?

Could you not do anything to save them?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Baby’s First Crawl


Lying down on his stomach ,

Looking around to check,

Pulling his legs to the fore,

 He fell down on the floor.

 

He got hurt to an extent,

He cried to his heart’s content,

Then attempted  again,

Alas ! he slipped in the bargain

 

He threw an angry look around

Stared in anger at the ground,

Shouted something in a loud voice

He stretched himself in a choice.

 

The baby became restless,

 He slowly dragged his legs breathless,

Steadied himself to a right position

He remained waiting for the next decision.

 

He suddenly  took a four-legged step,

 Moved his right leg in a forward pep,

The left one followed in a quick,

Architecting an advance like a trick.

 

The ruse went on for a little time,

It was like a poetic rhyme,

The crawl was with a rhythmic ease,

That brought no ridiculing tease.

 

It was fun  to see him crawl  for the rest,

It was for him a  highly priced test,

He had taken a move daring,

Is it not a praiseworthy sharing?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Beauty Child Experience Looks thoughts

A Child’s smile.


A smile of a child lights up the face,

It is innocence in a glaze,

It leaves nothing in a trace,

It is an absolute blaze.

 

The glitter in the smile sparkles,

It makes the eyes twinkle,

It radiates all through in a trickle,

It appears like a bounteous  sprinkle.

 

A child in a stroller smiled cheerfully

  It  winked  its eyes gracefully,

Intoxicating  the passers  heavily,

Making them forget their self temporarily.

 

The smile of a child has taken me away,

Far from the instant  pressurised sway.

It takes me to a sphere so far away,

Perching me in a hillock full of gay.

 

 

 

 

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The Rest Will Follow


It is a road less traversed,

Take it with a dare,

Get ahead of others if you can,

The rest will follow .

 

It is a thought out of box,

Work it out with a grasp,

Give it a distinct  frame if you can,

The rest will follow.

 

It is a peculiar choice,

Deign it with a confidence,

Give it a beautiful look if you can,

The rest will follow.

 

It is a special course,

Choose it with a desire,

Give it a progressive outlook if you can ,

The rest will follow.

 

The traditional  insight is great,

It also renders a monotonous  cheer,

Try to change it carefully if you can.

The rest will follow.

 

 

 

 

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Actions Experience Interpretation Life Looks Son Story Wisdom

It is Life Nothing More.


Shifting base is always a bug bear,

Well, that has become the regular fare,

A month here and months there keep it bare,

Nothing to rely ,but many things to care.

 

It was sheer envy seeing the movement before,

The same feeling lasts no more,

Moving places is a not fun all the more,

It turns out to be a terrific  toil  ever more.

 

Seeing places  is   extremely joyous,

Living in different places renders experience gregarious,

Going about all the  time becomes  tedious,

Releasing a morbid sensation accurately clueless.

 

Every life has a wear and tear,

Sitting firmly in a place is  a fortunate chair,

Roaming in quest of livelihood is a sordid share,

Anyhow to get  all  in life is truly rare.

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Experience Looks thoughts

A Prologue


It is going to be that,

It is going to be what?

It is that , nothing more than that,

Well .what is that?

 

That’s how it goes on,

Moves on without a clue  to fawn,

Gets going without a scorn,

Ends up in an unpredictable  born.

 

So let me say that is that,

It is a speculative  combat,

Based on a volatile drat 

Concluding on a tone flat.

 

Well,a  prologue is most likely to be,

A preface to what ought to be,

An eye opener to all things to be,

But truly a maze  as it appears to be.