WOMEN ARE INDEED..
Without
going through the newspapers
women
have wonderful knowledge
of
almost every thing
on
the domestic front.
They
are the queens of their homes, after all.
Women
are amazingly acquainted with
each
and every contour of
their
Hubby's pocket
whether
it is empty or full.
By
their very nature,
women
know the secret,
how
a volume of words
their
silence can speak.
Women
are indeed
an
unending search
for
men
even
today.
PLEDGE
The other day
I pledged
not to speak lie
Jesus
I could not utter
a single word
for the whole day.
WE ARE FORTUNATE
We are fortunate
that only the smoke has touched our
homes,
not the fire.
We are fortunate
that only the bad news are making us
scared
not the aggressions.
We are fortunate
that the springs of compassion have not
yet fully dried
out of our broken hearts.
We are fortunate
that we have still enough time to think
and talk about
our unending sorrows.
We are fortunate
that we do not know anything, Oh, God!
anything about our destiny.
HISTORY
Dump
that History
into
the dust
which
is compulsively written
with
an agenda,
by
the courtiers
serving
the Monarch.
And
let
the Truth be revealed
by
them
who
sing the songs of the people
all
the time
in
their own dialect
with
an open heart.
What they believe is that,
Literature
is more reliable
than History.
HOPE
If
Hope is alive,
there
is nothing to worry
in
our life.
Horrible
are those moments
when
we are badly surrounded by
the
deep darkness of distress.
Our
mind makes attempt after attempt
to
come out of the agony,
but
there seems to be no end of the tunnel,
we
are in.
We
lose our heart
and
begin to cry
like
a hapless child.
Miraculously,
Yes,
miraculously,
right
at that torturous moment
one
invisible hand appears in a blank
and
blissfully touching our head
revives
the belief -
That
even after when
all
seems to have been lost
one
thing always lasts'.
and
that is
what
we call "Hope".
CONDOLENCE MESSAGE
This
condolence message
has
been written in deep agony
sitting
close to the bodies of the
murdered
human sentiments.
May
it not be read by those
who,
after announcing a nominal compensation
for
each death
forget
all about the killings.
May
it also not be read by those
who,
by shedding a few crocodile tears,
manage
to attract a big applause from their hired goons.
May
it definitely not be read by those
whose
sharp nail-signs on the bloodstained bodies
are
still telling harrowing stories of individual brutality.
Yes,
it may be read only by those
who
are learning to make a dare attempt
to
hold the knife by its point
rather
than by its handle.
