On the shore of the river
I'm standing
When the boat will arrive
Without the helmsman.

The boat is mine
Not visible yet
Tired by thinking all
Seeing the lifestyle on earth
All the past scenes are coming in the mind.

So, thyself
Have to row
The boat
On the way to towards the front
Go on your own
No more fatigue.

Lost the path on the way
trying to find alone
Looking this way, that way
cannot glimpse it.

The morning went to the afternoon
the night arrived
In which corner I should find
pain of my mind.

The day went by like that
somewhere in the borders
Still the mind tries to find
the gesture of life.

Walking on the path in the dark
The path is not known yet
But, the heart remains open
Finding the direction of light,
Thoughts pull back
The trajectory goes elsewhere
Still, let's go on firm foot
Even it is not understood properly.

The path is no longer recognizable
Everything seems unfamiliar
Even if the path turns somewhere else
I agree to continue,
When will this darkness end?
I hope to see the light, however
The path must be crossed
Betting on my life.

Day after day
Time is endless
Path after path
Trail is endless.

Mistake after mistake
Live inside that
Month after month
It's a hoax.

Pain after pain
There is no happiness
Injury after injury
Just full of grief.

Game after game
Running all day
Talk after talk
I can't say that.

Night after night
Without sleep in the eyes
That's how it goes
The wheels of life.

Sailing in the Earthly affair
No one will come with you.

As you came on that day
Likewise, you will be gone.

As much as you do, illusion here
With children, property, wife.

So do not weep, no result
Only Karma will be with you.

If you have a fall with the delusion
There is no gain in the soul.

Behold!
Centuries ahead, who does could predict!
Centuries past, who does remembers!

If one sees just beforehand, one could see the future,
or, the past, but not the present,
because, it is within the existence.

Taking in my hand
Arrow and bow of the time
I am sitting here on the path to life
Restless, curious.

If there comes any opportunity
I'll pull the bow
There will be no chance that will get rid of my hand
My arrow will hit.

Morning gone, evening gone
The night came
Don't look at the opportunity
Time passes.

That's how it is
Waiting..
When will come the opportunity, nobody knows
Hence, sitting down for eternity.

Clumsy me,
never thought that
the life could take
such a discourse
such a dip
such a diabolical turn.

Between the hinges of
acting or not-acting,
what is inside the
so-called life;
is it a metaphor,
is it an illusion,
is it humble submission to the eternity?

Sprout, but
not cluttered in
utmost thought,
perhaps, someone
is pulling the string
from behind the curtain.

Hence,
everything and all other things
are in vain-
is it perpetual?
is it hypocrisy?
is it pretending?
is it
never be able to distinguish-

Clumsy me!

I gave freedom to those lines,
Let them fly in infinite space-
Flying unhindered,
So that no one else
Can't capture them unnecessarily,
Let them just say with open their minds.

There is no stopping for any reason,
Let everyone make their debut in a drunken state.
Paint in abstract desires,
Long-distance paths-
It rubs and corrects the rust of the heart,
I left the lines again to fly.

It's like finding yourself anew,
Floating on the ferry of life, rushing to the drink of lifeless feelings.

The lonely shepherd, sitting on the mountain top, plays his flute
He sees around the meadows, across the hills, and remains glut.

Nobody understands, what is the meaning of his melancholic song
Nobody realizes, in his tiny life, what went wrong.

When he looks through the blue sky, he bestows his life
Everything passes in a whisper, like a rife.

With nimble sadness and sigh, he looks around
There is no sign of life nearby, only silences surround.

Who showed me
The stream of light
I'm overwhelmed, I'm fascinated
I am inundated with joy.

Who reads out
The message to advent
Moved all my decrepitude
As much tiredness as was removed.

When I wake up, I find
The inspiration for survival
My heart is filled
With a new consciousness.

You have ignited at this time
What a light of hope
Forwarding towards the front again
And, it feels enormous.

What are you doing for hours and hours?
The movements of life can be measured!
It is like a river
Sometimes straight, sometimes bend.

In the monsoon, the river flows
By swallowing two sides
Like the life in full of youth
The euphoria takes over.

Such a river as ever-flowing
Sometimes is ever quiet
Life is so desperate
Sometimes become tired.

Like a river, passing so many ways
Runs into the sea
By leaving everything in life
Have to go to my own home.

The sun painted in red already woke up
In the eastern sky,
What a type of touch spread in the heart
In the morning air.

Every side smiled candidly
With the yellow ceremony of Mustard flowers,
Waves playing in the golden paddy fields
What a pleasant ambience.

The bird's singing filled the moment
Many flowers are blooming in the garden,
With a handshake at the beginning of the day
Very thin clouds are floating in the sky.

Wandering mind become agitated
Here is the fresh Sun,
Observing this eye-catching appearance of nature
Just like a picture painted on canvas.

In which allusion of light
Who is that?
Calling me
Come back, come back.

In the dark the birds in all groups
fly in the direction of the light unfurling their wings
with millions of hope is in the chest
Who is that?
Calling me
Come back, come back.

Look back at midnight towards the direction of the light
Sailless boat in the middle of the river
The way days pass by on hoping for hope
Awaken the addiction of receiving
Who is that?
Calling me
Come back, come back.

Suddenly the farewell bell rang,
Who or what will be lost forever
Gave the advance message.

The eagle that flies alone in the sky,
Or the old vulture perched on a palm tree,
Or the memories arranged in the middle of the heart.

Standing in the shade of a tree,
The whole world revolved unexpectedly,
And according to Newton's third law-
Every action is like an equal and opposite reaction,
The activities shifted.

Suddenly again,
Wind, clouds, sunshine, rain, storm,
All the matches became one.
And standing at the crossroads,
The emaciated, hungry child cried and said:
"I want a handful of food!"

I will work today’s work tomorrow
That can't be done anymore
I will give happiness to this forehead, or that forehead
This will not be changed.

Whoever has the due
There is what it deserves
He has to obtain whatever there
There is no other options.

All the rules are written
HIS account is all fair
Now it's just the turn of the realization
And, you have to be patient.

I wanted to walk a little,
With the scent of the gentle breeze of the morning full of life-
But could not walk, due to the thorns of the path.

I wanted to walk a little, at that dawn-
When the morning prayer ends -
Whenever the dew did not fall on the grass,
The fireflies in the bamboo grove are just trying to sleep.

In the lukewarm water of the side of the paved pond
Even though no one came to wash their feet, which is still covered with fog,
The reed branch in the middle of the pond is throbbing
Shaking with the water, there is still no wave
The red grasshopper did not come and sit.

Sitting on a branch of a tree, the two baby birds sit under the mother's wings
Stretched their bodies
The sun painted by deep red is still there
They did not fall on their wings.

The little girl wrapped in mother's lap and asleep,
Dream aunties are still sleeping from her eyes
They didn't leave yet.

Beloved mother still covers the house,
The breakfast time didn't start.
One by one the flowers started falling on the bottom from the bud -
But the gardener's little girl got the hem of the sari,
Hasn't come to pick them yet.

A few days ago the storm broke the branch
Through the gaps in the branches of the Star apple tree, the golden light of the sun
Hasn't come to the corner of the yard yet.

I wanted to walk a little along the path-
But could not walk due to the thorns,
Who knows how to walk in a skillful way with thorns
They were spread out so that the foot becomes ******-
So I didn't walk anymore.

Life!
That is an undeclared war
Contaminated with speed imbalance.

Life!
That is crammed with illusory fantasies
Not with any beginning, not with any end
There is no feeling or affection.

Life!
That is implicit in the shadow of indirect imperfections
Falling into the rage of unwanted thoughtlessness
Inactively exists.

Life!
That is an uninvited guest
Does not obey any prohibition, does not have any genre
Does not follow any time frame.

Let the white thing be white
Black things are black
Evil is what we know is evil
Good is good.

How much play on the ground
Observing everyday
Evil-good mixed up
All are flowing.

Difference from good to evil
Should be able to recognize
The conscience must be awakened
Without fail.

If the fortune is good
One can see the face of good
So till one has the time
Look for that.

Remained pervade by measuring the perimeter, thought and consciousness
Emotion leads to every wave, to the last sorrow.

Marginal hopes raises fog, uncleaned surface of the earth
Walking in a trembling rhythm, eyes are twitched.

Waking up in the middle of the night, under the spell of whose magic
Objects that are matched with great faith, so find them step by step.

Did not understand clearly, when the shackles were untied
A search is going on at the shore of the wreck, to find what is being lost.

Fell into the abyss of the eternity
Every step of life
How much I try to be rescued
Deeper it is throwing.

By opening the door to innovation
Surrender yourself to the dream
Desperate efforts to be saved
However, it is determined by a tiny flash.

Self-satisfaction, self-purification
In search of the true definition of the soul
Taking achievement with fortitude
Eternal thirsty spirit.

What to draw, where to put it
On the way, I see the emptiness
Time passes, no one is at any corner
That's why I am thinking, lost the key of my home.

Listening to the silence of my past
Listening to the shadow of my dream
Listening to the hollow of my thought
Listening to the gesture of my future..

Everything is in inaudible.

(Continued from 4/9)

Gary went to the town
high school, where
he met Monica,
his classmate.

They used to study together,
play together,
sing together,
think together,
till they become soulmates.

The most important thing
in his life occurred in that day
when he found out
about an unusual truth
about his family tree.

He is the first son
of his father, thus
his father, his grandfather
till the seventh past generations.

To him it become
not a gift
but a curse,
as the wicked witch
(who used to live inside
the deep of the dark forest)
learned about it.

Continued….

Being emotional, I sat down on the meadow
The heart carries with all the unspoken words.

Desired to catch the moon, no matter how it is
Being distracted, it seems like a nightmare.

Wanted to count all those glittering stars, with wide eyes in their range
The whole thing goes to waiting, waiting, and waiting.

Wanted to get down in the water, without knowing how to swim
Get drowned in deep abyss.

Wanted to sing a song, but couldn't understand the notation
At this hour, in amazement, the mind and soul were aroused.

Row, row, oh helmsman
Towards the upstream chara
Your heart is remaining there
To see someone ..

This quay and that quay of the river
Is your destination
Now it is the time to go home
Because the sun is going down.

Crossing the river so many times
You sing the song of life
No matter how rainy it is, how stormy
No matter whether there is the flood.

How much hope in the mind
When you row the boat
However, the days are all gone
And you cannot say about them.

The king's son looked around
Going from village to village
With one shoe in his hand.

This shoe would be a perfect fit on the foot
Of the one
The king's son will make the life partner
With her.

How long has it been like this?
The soldiers all turned around in groups
Find the shoe owner
No more
The king's son's mind becomes a burden.

Yet he does not give up
One day he will find her this way.

Suddenly one day he went to a village home
The girl was found by the king's son
Her name is Cinderella
She is beautiful to look at, her beauty repeats by all mouths
She showed the other shoe from the pair.

Everyone in the state said Hurrah, this girl is genuine
Parades across the state
They got married.

If it is written in the destiny
No one else can ****** it.

In the bend of life’s wave
The tears and laughter are hidden
Someone can see, someone cannot see
No one knows.

Life is going on like this
World is roaming around the clock
When and where to stop
No one knows.

Cut out unnecessary time
Walk in the opposite direction
Which way to walk
No one knows.

Chest is filled up with empty hopes
Life is shattered somehow
Where to sail down
No one knows.

In the study, come everyone
Let us develop the merit.
In the memorized studies
The deficit remains.

Must be in the syllabus
Intellectual development strategies
Students should learn about pragmatic education
Then life will be successful.

Young people have to be provided with
Technical education
It will be needful to work in the country
You have to take an oath.

When to build a better career
There is no alternative to gain knowledge
So, move towards that path
As soon as possible.

(Continued from 1/9)

Gary’s  grandfather was a
very rich person and
he inherited a gigantic
piece of land with many
trees and meadows near
the mountain.

When he became old enough
to take care of them
his father gave everything
to him as a gesture
of fatherly love-
thus Gary used to live
a decent life.

He remembers,
when he used to go
to the nursery
crossing those meadows,
half paved roads,
crossing a curved bridge-
by holding hand of his
grandmother,
they used to pass by the sea
where there was a
very old lighthouse
standing alone, like a fortress.

Continued…

The woman wearing the veil walks away
Gaze the evening star
Her face is full of smiles
Being elated within the heart.

In the room by lighting the evening lamp
Covered with hem
Look woke up trembling
However, the hand is extended.

What a thin line on the silent face
Nobody understood
The affection for the house is moaning
Such a burning wave.

On the shore of the river
I'm standing alone
When the boat arrives on the shore
Helmsman-free.

The boat is mine
not visible yet
But, thinking about it
seeing the future
that occurs in all scenes.

It flows by itself, however
one has to drive
so is it your own boat.

On the way forward
you have to go on your own
no more fatigue.

One question remains in the mind
Why come to the earth
What causes life, when you die?
Just float in the dream?

Time passes with the same thought
Morning-evening-night
Yet, the answer to the question is not found
As much as I think and do the ratio of numbers.

(Continued from 5/9)

Gary was not only a
philosopher and philanthropist,
but also a poet.

He used to write beautiful
poems at his leisure time.

Once he wrote,
to his girlfriend, Monica, a poem,

“The sun is a lone warrior,
because every night
seems to be the last night to us,
but while the sun rises
all the darkness vanishes”.

Another day, he wrote about
The passion of life,
for the local newspaper,

“If you listen to the
gentle breeze that is flowing
over the green meadows
where the morning sun
is reflecting,
you are going to listen
it in the breeze
and while you gasp
towards the blue sky,
it seems full of
eternal aspirations-
there you could see a steady
but, glowing star
that guide you
throughout your life”.

But, as we all know,
some inevitable things that
one cannot escape, thus
Gary too.

Continued ....

The merchant lives in the walled enclosed house
How organized it is to stay indoors.

How many of his servants, how many guards
Everyone is at hand, everything is urgent.

Breakfast in the morning, lunch in the afternoon
They all know what he’ll eat at night.

From here and there, even if it is a hair is moved
He would bring a big sword, look sharp, to punish.

If anything is needed, the gestures are enough
It appeared with lightning speed, there is no apology.

In this way he lived a life of supreme felicity
The rest is very tiny as he is engrossed in his own meditation.

The one who plays the flute
I was sitting by opening the window
He never played the flute.

With that tune I would like to sing a song
I thought by the corner of the heart
Could not sing anymore.

To draw a picture of someone
I caught the paint and brush
Never I could paint.

That's the way to go
I went out from the door
Could not walk on the path anymore.

To decorate in the bloomed color
Remained prepared for sometimes
Never could paint with the mind.

I drew a curve, do not know when
But couldn't straighten that anyhow.

I tried to draw a circle,
Finding its circumference, the circle was though drawn but could not complete.

I started painting a face,
The memory is so deeply lost,
It does not appear anymore in my mind.

I wanted to walk on a path,
The road is so steep,
So could not find the edge of the lonesome plain.

Wanted to make a formula,
But observing the depth of the numerology
Could not complete the same.

Suddenly the wind blows and I lost the path,
Now it's just the turn to play hide and seek with the heart.

From when I am watching
The wrestling of Kane, Undertaker
Steve Austin and Goldberg.

There are also the boxing of the world famous
Mohammed Ali.

Who does not know the football game of Pele?
They were so shocking
The goal of Maradona still is the best.

Sachin Tendulkar's cricket game
Who does not remember
The storm of sixes of Chris Gayle
Everybody called it as the world record.

By doing so they are adorable
Their performances in the form
Will be remembered by everyone.

Swing that takes in the breeze
The south window is open.

They twinkle stars are still in the sky
So the mind is unbound today.

The attention was filled with random thoughts
Unfamiliar world with absent minded gestures.

With the south wind blowing the boat’s sail
Fagun has now reddened the occasion.

The game of light and darkness are going on
This is how the whole day passes by.

Constantly trying
To be excited,
In the new consciousness-

Situations are being observed
However, seems to be submerged,
In concentrated pain.

Hope swings in despair
Thought-consciousness-power perception,
Plays in the middle of the fog
From birth to death.

Wrapped in the subsequent wrap
Yet the journey ahead,
Unexpected intent digs, and
Increases only the level of hesitation.

The heart returned crying
When will it end,
Surrounded by invisible feelings
Think so all day long.

Twilight on this sandy bay
I wrote down my name.

Somewhere in the corner of life
As much pain and sorrow
I searched for them in silences all the time.

There are as many turns in the way
I was shocked to see that
Waiting goes on
Don't say a word
I built all the words in my life with the lonely soul.

Opened an account
Forgot the path on which I'm sitting
On every page of life
Untold words remain
Even I was so sitting on this path where passes a person alone.

It's the time to dream
Shuffling the mind
The dream comes absentmindedly
Playing at the corner of the heart.

Be the young or old, dream all
There is no witness of dreams, though.
Dream comes within the scene of its own
Some dreams suddenly becomes true.

There are no meaning of many dreams
Yet no one can stop dreaming.

Night passes by dreaming
This is a mystery of creation
When someone stops dreaming
All the commentary on life will stop.

The forest cried out loudly- says, O mankind!
Silently, in secret, I remain. Is it wrong?

With shade, with fruit, I try to make you happy-
I wish, let it be filled with enchanted environment.

However, at any chance, being severed-
In your actions, always remain frightened.

Gush, when will you have a little bit of moderate knowledge?
That day presumably will be our salvation.

The morning light fall on the face
The light of hope awakened again in the chest.

Encouragement to go ahead with the new day's spirit
Cut out of darkness, and cannot be pushed back.

The clear wind is blowing out all around, the call is always open
It's good to forget the back day, keep up the determination.

The sky has got the new sun filled with sparkling light
Let the light of hope be torched in every heart.

(Continued from 6/9)

He was becoming weak day by day,
as the wicked witch was
putting her black magic on
Gary, remotely, however
her main intention was to become
immortal, by using
a few drops of Gary’s blood.

While sleeping,
Gary had several nightmares
about that wicked witch-
because his soul could realize
this happening ahead-of-time.

As usual, Gary used to
jog over several miles
across the mountainside,
the seaside and
the by the side of the old lighthouse.

One day while he was jogging,
he heard a hissing sound
behind his neck-
he looked and instantly
recognized the wicked witch
was running after him-
to catch him and
get the blood for her black magic.

He started running faster-
suddenly some birds
were flapping their wings loudly-
he heard,
dogs were barking at the distance-
seagulls were cawing,
and he came to near to
the old house.

Continued….

Two wings of the kingfisher
Who broke it?
The freedom to fly a bird
Who took away?

He's a silly bird
Did no wrong to anyone
What did he do?
That somebody did not like.

By breaking his wings
Is it a good job?
Then how he will fly
Can you say that?

(To those bird hunters)

When there is between desire and attainment
A huge gap,
Then the heart will be stained
And, in the pain of not reconciling the accounts
There must be tears in the heart.

However, in the direction of the light of the new day
The fresh journey begins
In the heart, with new consciousness
Let the drum sound high and high.

"Shining doesn't make something gold"
The cuckoo never lay their eggs at the crow's house.

Coal dirt cannot be washed away using water
Knowledge never been forgotten.

It never feels good to forget something special
In the shadowy existence there is no hope of life.

However, the entire life is spent at the seashore
The account book of life never matches.

The jeweler only knows what is the pure gold
There are only a few conscientious people in the society.

There are many twists and turns in the way of life
Even, someone is calling again to move forward.

The child comes to enlighten the house
There is joy everywhere
Every heart is stirred in that house
Everybody plays with a cheerful smile.

Day by day, come childhood, boyhood and youth
The success story goes with the whole life.

This way rolls the wheel of fortune
This hope remains to everyone
As if all are like a painted picture.

(Continued from 7/10)

Gilbert, as per his age
he was brilliant-
in spite of reading
fairy tales or children rhymes
he used to read
novels or research publications
on the deep revelation of life,
philosophy of life,
cause of the humanity in this space.

Ms. Andy, the town library librarian
was so kind to him,
used to lend him all those books
with the condition that
he would return them
without any mark or sketch-
thus, he read almost all
the collections on human nature
that were available in the library.

His mother was never
become angry
and was proud of his wisdom.

This wisdom helped him
to make wise dialogues
with the spiritual ghost,
though the spiritual ghost
knew them before hand.

Continued….