The ultimate

No matter, how long you live
The ultimate will reach you
But it matters how you live
That decides how you will die

No matter, how many roses you seei

It matters how many roses you bloom
No matter, how happy you lived
It matters, how happy were others with you

No matter, how you are treated
It matters how you treat
No matter, how great you are
It matters, how simple you are

No matter, how your book is
It matters how you filled it
The blank pages of life will cease on day
Waiting for no letter to be written
And all that matters is how beautifully is it filled

No matter how beautifully it's fretted
No matter, how neatly you did it
It matters how simple you filled it
It matters how generous you lived it

No matter, how rich you are
It matters how rich your heart is
No matter, how many houses you own
It matters how many hearts you own

If matters are mattered
Ultimate can't kill you
If matters are mattered
You never die..

What to scribble.

What to scribble
On this crazy night
When the music of creatures fight
To utter delightful rabble
Mind being a stage
Where emotions dance
Like in a cage
One after another waiting for a chance
Eyes gleam in wonder
On the world which is fretted
By the magic of the founder
When time is been bated
Every moment seems to be a miracle
Every thing seems to circle
And all a messy maze
Which I am unable to chase
And my pen fail
To spatter
Anything better
Than the divine dial

The secret spell

Life is a known spell
Blend of a secret recipe
Simplest of all to see
Hardest of to excel

A simple smile
A heart full of joy
And a pinch of happiness
Make the spell magical

Mysteries and miseries
Are the muse of life
Love and care 
Are the rhythm of life
This sweet portion
Is magical than magic
And the life of life

But the' will'the key of life
Is enough to guide and misguide
Courage and discourage
And seldom to break the cauldron
Of magical portion

Love and care the universal healers
Which enriches with time
As red wine
Thee secret spell
Leads life forward
With spitting sparks of hope

The golden thread

It's an invisible golden thread
Woven special
For the silk of love
Which bind hearts together

Alas!-The thread is now in threat
The silk is in danger
The human mind
Is now controlled by an error comment

 Somewhere the souls are killed
For the head of a cow
Somewhere people are burned
In the name of being born in a different blood

The culture is forgotten
Or the world have changed
Here people have lost their liberty
To write, eat and even to sleep peacefully

Somewhere, even the big sun rise in fear
There a bomb rewrote the story of many life's
The great morning which they began with new hopes
Was ceased by a throne of tear

And somewhere
Lone sitting in a room
I scatter these words
Totally baffled
Of these odd happenings

The invisible golden thread
That harmonises must exist stronger than ever
The muse of harmony
Must play high in every streets




 


                                     

Wild Garment

She is a wild garment
Tore for others

With a deep trench in her heart

She smiles for the world

Before the sun up

She rises& and light up the world

With the light of her heart

No proletariat, no singer, no chef,

No one, no one can resemble her

  

The serene  snake

Who swallowed 

Human heart

Is a little child

For her

The destiny

Which have ruined the prettiest creations

Is a toy story for her

She remains tranquil though thunderous

Her voice is calm

Though it's in the zenith of bursting

  

Sacrifice has become her duty

Work has become her game

Tears are a part of hear

Still a pleasing smile

Drifts from her lips

Even when she is crumpled in berserk hands

Even when is trodden under cunning feet

Her heart beats for others

Her hands move for the world

For the world

For the people

She lives as a molten rock

A wild garment

Tore for others

Where is India going to???

To the progress or an another conflict, all people are great devotees of God here, but they simply choose the way to evil.our India is independent, here every person has the freedom to eat whatever he wish, dress however he like , worship which ever god he trusts and after all express his opinions, but today's wild India is a threat for the development of our nation, but how can our nation even think about development when they are busy with all other junk matters like this?.Is eating beef or killing an innocent sinner?
                   The religions are sacred, they should only guide people to be better, not this worse.My nerves are flooding with blood hearing all these................may India not change to the country of devils,

Devil encroaching the streets of heaven.

Devotion is divine.But exaggeration of devotion is nonsense.The way Lord Ganpathi's birthday is celebrated is simply stupid.which Lord likes to block the life of man, pollute the rivers and bless the dumb headed people behind this inhuman activities? The heaven created by God's are today being encroached by the devil practices.youth should channelise their spirit in making the birthday of Ganpathi memorable and useful for the society.
                  Celebrations should give us opportunity to celebrate tomorrow.Today if we pollute our rivers, today if we stop working a day, who will fill the draught of people and what will feed the hunger.The sculpture is to be respected than the statue. Respect and devotion can't be shown through the stupid practices done today.
         DON'T LET THE DEVIL ENCROACH OUR STREETS OF HEY VAN

Diamonds are to be polished

The more it is rubbed
the more it shines
 The more deep you dig
 the more big you  find
But it is invisible unless you dig,
 Just a stone
Unless it's crust is carved
 Every soul is a diamond
 Deep in ur mind lies it
 It is to be found It is to be listened
 Ah! The unique colours you find will amaze you.
 Soul is not be searched in the unreachable heights
 Not in the deepest depths Or
in the hardest walls Deep in heart,
so silent and radiant Soul waits for you.

Today's impossibilities are Tomorrow's miracle

The common world always suppress the unique ideas sprouting in a young mind.They scare the significance will be lost.In the race of protecting the tradition society kills the radiance of magnificent light rays of the young minds.Years flowing in the same stream of prejudices people blame different thoughts ,the tenderness of age. It's time for the change, no it has been already late for the change.so let we young buds join our creative heads together and rise up.TO make a change by change.May load's of miracles happen.

paradise is short lived

The way ahead remained headlong

that seemed as an eternal ocean

legs were tired

hopes were dried

in the race to find paradise

                               Found ever green forests

                        That could cherish me

                     With the cool wind and crystal drops

                      And lull me in its green blanket         

                      but someone said "this is not the paradise"

 set out in search of the real paradise again

with a little flame of hope

             that was not the greenest paddy fields

         Charming with grace

          Neither the flowing river

         Nuturing the land with its crystal drops

          Nor the tallest  mountains

       Raising its head very proud

                         not the apple field or an orange field 

                      Not even the sky

                              With fascinating cotton candies

                        And not the milky way

                          The red planet or the blue

                                                   yet the path ahead was infinite

                                           Where have i not gone

                                    What have i not seen

                                                 Where have i not searched

                 The journey was long

           The walls were strońg

             The life was hard

                 Days were bitter

                                           Hopes lost 

                                  Radiance gone

                                            Soul indivine 

                                                    as rotten bread

                                               Moved ahead

                                                              Never searched paradise

                                                             forgot the happiness

                                                            And there one day

                                                               Heard a knock on my door

      With the rotten soul

         Opened the door

               that was the paradise in my dooor

                   alas!but that was my last breathe

Life

Life

thats a short period

but pretty enough to

do something

       That goes very fast

       But pretty enough 

        To make a change.......  

l-live

I-innocently

f-for

E-existence

കാലം

തെറ്റോ ശരിയോയെന്നോർക്കാനിടയില്ലാതെ
കാലത്തെ പഴിച്ചു മുന്നോട്ടുവച്ചൊരാ
ശങ്കതൻ ചുവടുകൾ,മനസ്സിൻ മതിൽക്കെട്ടുകളാൽ
പിന്നോട്ടെടുക്കവയ്യാ.....................
                മതിൽക്കെട്ടുകൾ പൊളിച്ചുകാലുകൾ
                പിന്നോട്ടെടുക്കുവാൻ മുതിരുമ്പൊഴോ
                  കാലം പഴിയേറ്റുവാങ്ങിക്കടന്നുപോയിരിക്കും

while reading a book

i always wish the read,known or familiar portion of a book to be greater than that of the unread portion.As time moves it happens but never alike in life,always the unknown inexperienced part of life is greater.

The beginning.

A biginner remains a beginner until the end of beginning
but new beginnings never stops poping out.so i renounces myself as a beginner.