I was born as a chaste Hindu
And hated its watertight caste system
The rigid ritualistic custom
I became a cosmopolitan Christian

The Christianity always discussed forgiveness
I did not have that much greatness
I was fed up with its teachings of kindness
I converted my self into a Muslim

I grew a long beard and traveled in a costly car
And believed in the inspiring holy war
The police put me into a huge prison
The best place for my enlightened vision

Which God would save me from this cell?
I did not know if I would go to heaven or hell
The only thing I could do was to yell
Into a bottomless pit did I eventually fell?

Once you were a twittering butterfly
And seduced many other insects
With your beautiful wings
And sweet sayings

The insects knew you   were a caterpillar
And a shameful lie teller and disgraceful yeller
You changed your colour and proud of your valour
You seem to be a chameleon and went into oblivion

You became an owl and speaks like a fowl
And didn’t change your impious soul
You were devoid of  any worthy goal
And thought that every other bird was a fool

You have became a saintly crane
And standing on  a single foot
To you life seems to be a circus feat
Every creature knows that you are a great cheat

Seven days ago I went to my coconut farm

And saw a fairy in her beautiful form

She was like a real dame

I followed her without any shame



I was bewitched by her teasing smile

And I set aside my reading file

I forgot my scholarship and wisdom for a while

And was fooled for her style



She led me to her unknown land

I caught her tender hand

We lay on the soft  sand

I thought she was a pure miss

And longed for her hot kiss

Our love game was very grand



I thought As if I were in heaven

With her I spent days seven

The last day I had a bad dream

A demon shook my left arm



I was in hospital bed

The doctor was testing my blood

My heart trembled like a swift flood

I paid the penalty for my fraud

I became very sad

Because I got the punishment from God

The stars come down to earth

On a special plight

To make our lives bright

For kids inexpressible delight

The earth becomes the sky

Our imagination soars very high

The light drives out darkness

As knowledge does ignorance

Even the angels enjoy this night

holding the kids so tight

The moon claps with a shout

even terrorists stops their fight

All religions love light

It is the heavenly sight

May light dawn in our heart!

Loving people is the greatest art

A kind word is
A beautiful bird
It  travels
All over the
World
And fly
As high
As the sky
And touches
Every heart
And the source of
Any art
The
Main
Aspect
Of
Human
part

A monk was concentrating upon God
In front of a vamp’s house
Whenever a visitor came
He would pick up a stone and threw it

Years rolled on and the stones piled up
The monk became old and the vamp sick
There was a huge heap of stones
The monk would look at it in surprise

The dooms day arrived
The monk was sent to hell
And the vamp to heaven
What a Paradoxical judgement!

The monk asked God
“Why did you send me to hell
And  the vamp to heaven”?
God replied,” you concentrated on her fraud
But she concentrated on God.
She dedicated her soul to me
And only her body to the visitors”

Once a monk lived in a village
A bird excreted on his head
For his fury it fell dead
The monk felt very sad

He went to a house for food
The wife was at her husband’s bed
The monk cried for many a time
The woman came after some time

The sage looked at her with a great rage
She said, ”I am not a bird to be burnt
by your fury. For a wife her husband
is the best jury”. He begged her pardon

She advised the sage to meet
a righteous man at a certain place
The monk was taken aback to  see his face
He was only an ignorant butcher

The butcher said to the monk
“My profession is to sell meat
Which even for my feast I don’t eat
One should do one’s duty”

The monk had a great revelation
Which he hadn’t in a hundred years’ meditation
He learnt to control his angry emotion
And blessed the woman for his salvation

writing a nonsensical poem
and
expecting
a praiseful
comment
on
it
is
the
greatest
weakness
of
a
socalled
poet
like
me
on
HELLO POETRY

Drona was a great teacher of archery
He taught it to Pandavas and kauravas
Arjuna was his  favourite disciple
He liked him for his pious principle

Drona promised to make him the best
In any form of archery test
One day A tribal came to Drona
And requested him to teach the craft

The master asked him for his caste
The tribal revealed the fact
Drona told him he would teach only the upper-caste
And leave the place in great haste

The Tribal,Ekalavya, Made an idol of his master
And became an invincible archer
Drona and Arjuna came to the forest
The former considered the tribal was the best

Drona asked for the tribal’s  master
And surprised to find the answer
And demanded his right thumb as a gift
Ekalavya offered it as a token of great respect

An unknown poet lives in a village
HELLO POETRYhas become his only adage
He lives with his mother
From her womb he came one day
And also lives with his wife
Into his womb he goes every day
He had two lovely daughters
They are as pure as rain waters
His wife loves him
But hates his mother
His mother too loves him
But hates his wife
They look two poles apart
And for his autobiography became the plot
When his children were younger
They loved their grand mother
But they now love their own mother
These happenings silently the poet has to bother
When there is a quarrel between the two
The poet says ”much might be said on both sides”
Because he can not take any sides
The poet’s wife wishes for his mother’s death
But his mother does not want to leave this earth
Only God should show the poet the right path

A POEM
IS
A POEM
ALTHOUGH
THERE
IS
NOTHING
IN
IT
AS
A BOOK
IS
A
BOOK
ALTHOUGH
THERE
IS
NOTHING
IN

The sun sends his gorgeous light
A poet gives us inestimable delight
The sun brightens the world with his glorious rays
And the poet illuminates it with his poetic ways

The sun sometimes hides him self in the cloud
And the poet at gloomy times in the crowd
The eclipse may darken the sun for a while
And the society may subject the poet for a trial

The sun gives us necessary heat
And the poet makes his/her aesthetic feat
The sun is the life giver for the universe
The poet is the truth lover with his/her verse

The poet can view
Where the sun has no clue
I worship the sun god
And adore the poetic lord

A war is
a Red scar
written  with  blood
on
a piece of
white paper

A true friend adds meaning to your life
A man may not have a wife
But without a friend his life is mere strife
Loneliness is a double edged knife

A woman may not have a husband
But a friend is a must on this land
He/she lends his/her helping hand
Without a friend her life is as wasteful as sand

A friend shares our joy
Our heart becomes as light as a toy
A true friend shares our grief
The suffering becomes very brief

Tell me your friend, I will tell what you are
A friend should be a shining star
He will give us light
And makes our lives bright

Why don’t you choose a nice friend?
Your boredom will soon end
Friendship is a beautiful flower
It is the gift of our life giver

A friend should be our life’s cream
He/she should be a part of our team
Life is just like a game
Losing it sometimes is not a shame

A friend relieves your gloom
He/she makes your life bloom
Our life is a beautiful dream
We should make it a running stream

We celebrate 5th September as teachers’ day

Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan was born on this very day

He showed the Indian nation the right way

His debt how can we repay?



He is a universal teacher

And a man of inimitable stature

Wisdom and simplicity are the hallmarks of his feature

Incomparable oration is his nature



He rose to the nation’s highest post

And tried to build a bridge between east and west

His philosophical teachings are the best

And his knowledge of English is very vast



He is Plato’s philosopher king

As President honour and dignity did he bring

He brought religion a new meaning

His glory and greatness I would like to sing



Yours sincerely,

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

INDIA

A tiny stone creates
a lot of ripples
on calm waters
as a word of spate
causes turbulent
emotions
in the heart
of a pure man
A drop of poison
spoils the bowl
of manna
like a wrong note
discords the symphony
of an enthralling orchestra

You were the architect of the nation
And loved it with great passion
You flew the eternal dove
For your inimitable greatness I bow

You were the true disciple of Bapuji
And dearly called chachaji
You were an Arjuna
In the war of independence

You loved the dear kids
And treated them as tender buds
You wore a rose in your button hole
Elevating India is your noble goal

We fulfill your beautiful dream
And follow your spiritual cream
We love our children
As they are our true vision

The sun rises in the east
And sets in the west
A Hindu turns to the east
And worship the sun
A Muslim turns to west
And looks at the moon
A Hindu has a closely shaven head
And a Muslim A long grown beard
The Hindu writes from left to right
And a Muslim from right to left
Their rituals are quite opposite
And their beliefs totally different
But what is the colour of their blood?
What about the sufferings during a flood?
How do they feel during a hunger?
What about the music of a melodious singer?
What about the emotions
During  marriage and birth?
And  the inevitable death?
Their roads may be different
But the destination is the same
Allah or God may be the name

English is the king of all the languages

It will stay for all ages

The English conquered the whole world

English has become our watch word

Its spelling is un- phonetic

Its grammar is idiotic

We should know its glorious history

How it became a global language is a mystery

The English are highly polite

Their manners are a real delight

Everybody should know English for their survival

It is responsible for their cultural revival

I love English for its beauty

Teaching English is my duty

English text is my holy kit

I will try my level best to teach it

The secret of my happiness is simple

The school is my temple

Let’s all teach English with a missionary zeal

The eternal bliss we will surely feel

Yours sincerely,

JVL NARASIMHA RAO

INDIA

Diwali is the festival of light
To those groping in the dark
But when  we celebrate the festival
With great delight
We never think of
The poor child’s pathetic plight
He is a burning *******
And she is an exploding fire work
Who illuminate others’ lives
But burn them selves like candles
How many children have got exploded
In the firework factories?
Child labour is a scar on Indian society
When I lit a lamp to night,I will shed a tear
For the poor soul
Who was burnt in the factory
Like a waste paper

In this trouble torn. Grief stricken world
Only music  embalm my aching soul
When corruption and bribery are the order of the day
Goons and rowdies show me the real way
Even the judges succumb to dishonesty
Morals and ethics have lost their identity
The veena, the flute, the clarinet, the drums
And the guitar make a soothing effect to my ears
When there is   incredible symphony
The distinction between East
And west is totally lost
Only peace and harmony forever last

Music is more intoxicating than vine
It is undoubtedly divine
There is music in the blowing wind,
Flowing stream, chirping of birds,
The hissing of  snakes,
The bleating of a goat
And the beating of a heart
And the passing of blood to each human part
But understanding the synchronization is a difficult art

New year’s Day is just another day
I celebrate it in a different way
Don’t want to drink tasty wine
And dance with beautiful women

I don’t believe in the ritual
A festival should be more spiritual
I don’t spend a day merrily
And the next day worriedly

I don’t want to voraciously eat food
Like animals in the wood
And visit friends’ houses
To give costly flower bouquets

Instead I want to introspect
With a retrospective effect
What did I do last year?
Were my goals really clear?

I will plan for the New Year
And implement it without any fear
Set very small things as my target
And try to reach them as a rocket

In India pongal is the best festival
It is not a mere ritual
We celebrate it in January
It is very very customary
It lasts for three days
Bhogi,sankranti and kanuma are the days.
On the first day we have a holy bath
Thinking that it sets us on the right path
Early in the morning we sit around the bhogi fire
Thinking it is the demon Ravana’s pyre
We put on a new and attractive attire
Dreaming life is a joyful boat shire
Children make wreaths of cowdung
Throw them into the fire like a gold ring
The villages are full of colourful bullocks
We sing folk songs taking neem sticks
The bride groom leaves for the mother-in-law’s house
The bride waits for him wearing a new saree and a blouse
Father-in-law gives the groom a costly gift
Mother-in-law makes a sumptuous feast
Younger sister-in-law teases the groom
The bride and the groom confine to the room
Mother prepares delicious dishes and pickles
Father goes to the farm worshipping the sickles
On the last day we go to the temple fair
I hope I made the happy pongal very clear
Yours sincerely,
JVL NARASIMHA RAO

A house

A house
without books
is a house
without windows and ventilators

I don’t want to spend Christmas

Drinking tasty wine

And dancing with beautiful women

I don’t believe in the theory of

Enjoying a day very merrily

And the other day worriedly



Jesus lived and died

For certain divine values

LOVE

PEACE

MERCY

KINDNESS

SACRIFICE

AND FORGIVENESS

The values I cherish

Because only they make me flourish

Or else I will perish

Let’s all the eternal principles nourish

I hate those who always look into a mirror
and smear sweet smelling face powder
I think that is their grave error
and look at them with great horror

I need neither a comb nor a mirror
On my head I don't have the slightest hair
I am an egghead professor
my concept is as useful as pure air

I am a big thief
And I live in Independent India
On the 64th independence day
I was beaten almost to death
By the police
Because I was hungry
And tried to steal
An apple from a fruit vendor’s

On the same day
I saw the photograph
Of an officer
In all the leading news papers
He was given the best administrator’s
Award by the GOVERNMENT
He takes bribes everyday openly
I am a big thief and sinner
He is  a  great officer and award winner
I am a big thief
And I live in Independent India
On the 64th independence day
I was beaten almost to death
By the police
Because I was hungry
And tried to steal
An apple from a fruit vendor’s

On the same day
I saw the photograph
Of an officer
In all the leading news papers
He was given the best administrator’s
Award by the GOVERNMENT
He takes bribes everyday openly
I am a big thief and sinner
He is  a  great officer and award winner