The Man who held the Flute

I wandered alone in the vast muddy beach

A beautiful sound of music tend to reach

I waited to see who it was

A man of wisdom and enlightenment of some sort

Bewildered I looked of his sudden presence

Eyes so blue and innocent

His wooden bamboo flute held closer to his lips

He began playing the divine song of God

My heart dancing to his beats, called out his name

“Krishna...Krishna... Krishna”

THE CHOSEN WORDS

My little fingers embraced the mighty pen,

And my heart began to whisper its secrets.

Every word I wrote was already chosen 

By the beautiful angels in heaven.



The flying blank page out of joy danced, 

While the frantic blue ink cuddled. 

Adorned with fresh memories

Lay my deep down mysteries that were buried.

LULL ME TO SLEEP

I want to sleep forever,

Forever in the world of peace.

Don’t wake me up;

Don’t make me live;

I want to drown in the arms of an angel.

ADMIRING A STRANGER

All the books stacked in order,

 in the huge, air-conditioned library.

Facing towards a man I sit,

trying to read the book ‘The Alchemist’.

His clear blue eyes,

matching the heavenly sky.

His long, soft fingers,

flipping the pages.

Like the wind touching the flowers of a garden,

his hand combs his hair to harden.

Sitting next to the glass window,

his eyes gaze outside the busy shore.

Stunningly featured, his smile,

looks at me for a while.

Like the white pearls strung to the chain,

his grinning teeth adorned his face.

Just as I wished,

It was time to bid

goodbye to the moment;

the moment cherished for some time. Amen!

Circus Companies adapting new methods

THE PRETTY LADY WITH PASSION

Flashing back my past, I wonder how life had taken me to a completely different path.  If those few seconds weren't there in my life, probably I wouldn't write this- probably I wouldn't exist at all. And now...”Now what?” I ask myself every day.  

“Do I have to fake to live?”

“No. I am just trying to accept myself and change the way I am.”

“Why? Don’t you like yourself?”

“No. I love myself.” I would reply. (Talking to myself sometimes helps me) 

It is fine if you have to scribble....It is fine if you look thin or fat....It is fine if people claim that you yell instead of singing... It is fine....The most beautiful things you wanted are not so easy to get.  Coming to think of it, I wish I could write really well. There have been times when I have got really perturbed and agitated, but I have never dared to doubt my passion....Never given a second thought to it.

I have learned to love the feeling now....the feeling of writing when the long pointed pen starts to kiss each word and embrace the paper,  and finally helps the writer in wearing a smile on one’s face.

What more will I prepare to ask for?