As I lay in the comatose state, My Angel cried profusely. Unknown to others, He cried. And His tears fell on my body, They healed my wounds. My Angel is my Prabhu. My Angel is my Father.
To write "Writing is just a waste of time When no one reads and appreciate Why to write I already spent number of years in just spoiling my paper and pen " So many time I heard from him I tried to motivate Write for yourself Why you need appreciation What if books which are published not well circulated You will at least get satisfaction after writing You will get a good outlet for your emotions Specifically for you who is more introvert You don't have many friends to talk So write to talk with everyone on chart of your heart It will relax you It will give you an aim It will set a target for you Or else you will **** your time with social media to see up and down Many years he didn't picked paper and pen to give a piece of write Then I started to write when my teacher once my student motivated I wrote and showed him the loves and likes Not much as I am not very good writer But it helped him to break his ice These days he is taking interest by reviving his old written pieces Finding from here and there Which I and his father kept in hope One day he may come out of his cocoon. Our efforts of keeping his manuscripts are bringing colours in his life.
You are right at your place When you passed through a tough life When you are tested at every step Then very difficult to say Who is right Who is wrong
Sometimes you see yourself Standing on other side for a good cause Then neither your mind not your brain get align to declare What is wrong What is right
Sometimes You reach at a place of time line Might be decided by God or by us When you put yourself on one side May be right May be wrong Such a thin timeline
Which always keeps you in doubt And make you think Was that right or Was that wrong But Life goes on Life moves on
One thing is sure You get emotional every time When reflect those times