g's world

Being happy, being contented and helpful to others, making others around us happy are the rarest priced possession that a person can ever get. There are so many people in this world waiting to meet a person like that and they yearn to be so. But, people live a life of endless lies and active concealment, they never tend to accept what they are when other people comment on their behavior, they never analyse their own mistakes behind those comments, but their ego comes in front of them and casts a huge curtain and there they are, getting angry, getting irritated about the comments, getting hurt and defending themselves. Their heart throbs with anger, and always accepts only flattery or genuine praise. When a person praises them, highlighting their good qualities, they readily accept their words with a huge smile on their faces, but when the same person remarks upon their minuses, they retard themselves and the other person, they are bounded by the huge barrier of ego and makes the wh

Tiny pearls fell from the velvety spread, they glistened like dew drops on the greenest leaf. the great fall ended in a "plonk", which made the pearls scatter into tiny shimmering pieces. the rock turned chill, and the weather shrill, the waves of worry long gone, and happiness struck like a gong. the sound of the shattering pearls, were welcomed among the beings, some ran for shelter, while some paced slowly, enjoying the shower. the sorrows of the heart, deep like the oceans were dispersed, like a juvenile pond, by the chilling droplets. which came from heaven, to bring light through the dark. when they found their way, to the broken lands of the mourning peasant, he looked up to the sky and whispered, with tearful eyes, "Alas! God's shower is here". when they landed on a child's arms, she caressed them with a smile on her face, and rushed into her room, and searched happily, for the paper boats her mother had lovingly made.

The clouds of time are passing by, to exhibit a clear sky, The worries like dust settle on the plain, and the birds of haste are seen nowhere. As the sun rises vibrant and huge, the darkness paves way to light. An astounding change, is apparent in the sky. It is lit up like the diwali lamp, spreading joy and cheer, dissolving the drops of leer. Life turns out to be, the clearest of skies, when problems disappear, and enlightening changes appear.

Fresh and shimmering leaves, a thousand you behold, which dwell like the happiest of memories, which shroud the deep brown branches, on which lies the diamond like dew drops, which scintillate under the morning ray, and make you look like adorning jewels all over. Your dark, strong trunk, is wet with snow and grime. But is hard like the huge rock, high on the steepest cliff. You grow higher and higher, everyday, and silhouette your beauty, on the ever still plains. You are the greatest gospel of existence, and the strongest hope of our survival, Oh, lovely tree, you are, the master's splendid gift to mankind.

I am a person with thoughts ablaze, a human form of the sun's rays, but I hold no magnificence in my quill, to write out my thoughts at mere will. A thousand thoughts ponder in my mind, fathoms deep, they steal all my time, I wonder and wonder, how to put them in line, to lay them in verses, and to sing them with chimes. They race up like waves, and drown me in their pace, how hard I try to escape their gaze, but here I am stuck in their maze. All the beauty I see, are lost in my mind, but I am no poet like Wordsworth or Whitman, to bring them to rhyme. Lost in fiery and beauty, lost in race and creed, lost in the quest to fulfill my needs, lost in time and lost in minds, lost to seek, too lost to speak, lost I am too much , to express them in poetry. here they are, waiting for me, infinite like the drops of rain, to embed them in verses sublime, but I neither have the words that rhyme, nor am I a poet like Geraldine. (Geraldine Conolloy (1

Her gigantic curves of shimmering blue, are outlined by the tiny silvery curls, she gracefully twirls, and embraces the coarse shore with all her arms, as she leaves the shore with tears of love, she leaves behind pearly shells, as a souvenir to her lost love. She scintillates in the glimmer of the rays, as she becomes one with the haze. when she grooves blissfully, to the tune of the monsoon wind, one among her thousand pleats, gently rubs the shore. And there again he goes behind her, trailing her footprints on his tanned skin, sadly beaming at her kin. A thousand memories dwell in her salty heart, when she is in anger, their lives come to a halt. What a beauty it is, to see her waltzing throughout the day, in the sun, in the rain, in snow and cold, ever and forever, her memories remain, in the tiny heart of mine.