This site is as about the inspiration I get, as I am designed to get, where faith and conviction are my two flowers, which receive light when asked to God.
A big title,
“—————————“.
Would leave everyone astonished.
They kept on staring at it with their mouths wide opened.
When asked to the owners of the title,
They would reply it is home made.
What is a home made title?
And their answer was a title which would make us stand out in the world.
Whether they stood or not,
Was not known,
But their odd title did.
Adios!
Small saplings,
Of marigold and lily,
In an earthen pot,
Planted in the beautiful morning.
Small saplings,
From an old gardener,
Have grown into well grown plants,
Seeing them the children,
Giggle with happiness
And roam about playing with catch the ball.
Adios!
Eighteen matches
And seventy nine goals.
That was the sum total of the used football.
It belonged to Rus and his little brother Sam.
Their father was a proud peacock.
He couldn’t bear to see his sons unhappy.
The next day,
He bought them two new footballs.
But he didn’t know,
That his wife had got the torn football mended.
So, his sons had double gifts from their parents.
Both the parents and sons were very happy.
Adios!
An old casino,
Now extinct,
Was a place where bluffs would be dealt on a daily basis.
But this ain’t about it.
This story is about a boy,
Whose feelings were snatched by,
His sissies and friends,
But they couldn’t harm him.
He found a true friend,
In his grandfather,
Who wiped away all his pain.
Ironically, he later went on to become a casino owner,
But in that casino there were no bluffs allowed.
No one believed it,
But it was true.
Adios!
A privilege to sing,
Is a gift which many don’t have.
While those who do,
Many of them misuse to such an extent,
That they feel blissful in it.
Ah! They aren’t worthy of even being hypocrites.
A privilege to sing,
Is a true gift from God
And few develop it with hard work,
But most of it sounds as,
A fork being dragged on plate.
Its just crass.
A privilege to sing,
Makes many reach to the recording studios.
Where they do things,
But the true singing,
Lies within one’s own self,
As singing is a treasure,
Not a show of fluency or afluency,
It is for singing.
Adios!
Before You Travel. 