The Wayfare 2p1r64

The Wayfare

Jyoti Kiran Cornelius

Copyright © 2019 by Jyoti Kiran Cornelius.

ISBN: Softcover 978-1-5437-0616-1 eBook 978-1-5437-0615-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Contents

About The Author

From The Author’s Pen

A Remembrance From The Heart

The Poems

Be ive

Faith Begets Ecstatic Joy

The Chocolate Soldiers

The Peerless Phase

The Crux Assures

The Commencement

The Wheels Of Cart

The Divine Beauty

O Golden Rays!

A Substantial Sacrifice

The Promise

Soul Desires

My Imagination Wings

The Test Of Nature

Spring -The Commemoration

An Engraved Inspiration

O Silvery Rays!

Mirth Is Bliss And Perpetual

The Moments Of Togetherness

Turn Not Virtue

In The State Of Being Alienated

Harmonized Concurrence

Strength And

An Encounter With Fear

We, The Daughters Of Eve

Courage An All –Time Weapon

They Are The Specimen…..

It Disgusts…..

The Embodiment Of Inspiration

The Apprehensible Peace

As Blood Is Red

They Feel Afflicted

Where Enthusiasm Awaits

A Judicious Vision

Stars In Sunlight

A Path Of Life

An Unyielding Way

Am Proud Of Mankind

The Sand Of Thoughts

Do Not Be Disheartened

Accept Adversity Calmly

How I Wish I Could Be The Wind

The Artistic Impact

This Drives To Vow To Strive

In Search Of A Meaning

On Independence

The Progressive Movements

Hope Is Strength

Pride Within !

The Irony Of Triumph

Eternity To Eternity

About The Author

This argosy of poems ‘The Wayfare’ authored by Jyoti Kiran Cornelius is a snippet of the intrinsic melody, texture and execution of ‘Nature’ and how it s mankind even in its state of depression and in almost obscure existence to infuse it with the thought to be earnest with nature and feelings for life. No one is capable enough to manage life alone even then all are so engrossed and occupied in satisfying ones own motives selfishly:

‘Too weak to forgive and Very unscrupulous to leave, Thus, the ardent desire No one should be left like a weanling.’

The author hails from the city of Jabalpur, India. She was nurtured in the culture of Indian society morally, religiously and educationally. By touching the holy soil of The Adarsh Vidhya Bhawan School, Ganeshkhind, Pune, she entered the world of alphabets and knowledge. She received her school education from Maharastra Higher Secondary School, Jabalpur and the degree education from Mohanlal Hargovind Das College, Jabalpur, popularly known as (Home Science College), both prestigious institutions in the field of education. After receiving master’s degree in Hindi she got married in the city of the Taj - Mahal, Agra. Staying at home as a house wife her desire to gain knowledge made her receive master’s degree in English, Indian classical music (Sitar) and a professional qualification PGPM & IR. Since childhood the author has been a prolific writer of rhymes. As a member of The Lioness Club, her poems always made a mark and everlasting impression upon the readers. She plans to pursue her talent for the positive prospects towards life.

From The Author’s Pen

My dear readers, It may take a long time to reach completion of an undertaken task but joy overwhelms certainly. I also am in the same state when I am reaching you to present the bouquet of my feelings. Man, the supreme creation on earth, has embellished her with his imagined beauty. That ‘Nature’ also accepts his stature in many contexts, signifying him almost next to the Almighty which is very obvious but with carrying himself and also ing life in the existing contrast of suitable and unsuitable circumstances where mankind has made many giant leaps, it’s an irony of achievement that each foot has a prick and each heart has a wounded corner. Flow and ebb of life makes him sometimes ignorant of emotions and sentiments of others. Austerity hardens his heart. Possessiveness makes him malicious. Contrary to this, the nature’s calmness, equilibrium naturally maintained in feelings towards one another appears quite visible in the flora and fauna coexistence, though, there is no communicative inter-action. Silence cares for all sentiments: ‘The drenched animals receive shelter from trees, The wolves also have the share in the lion’s feast.’ All psychological fallacious situations and all humiliated souls drive me to make such efforts as may bless them with solace and persevering trait. In the quest of such tranquil haven, I approached the first cry of the baby through the poem ‘Faith Begets Ecstatic Joy’ and to my dear ‘Chocolate Soldiers’. Reminiscing the early stages of life, the poems ‘The Peerless Phase’, ‘The Crux Assures’ and in other poems, graciously I received help from both the divine rays and all seasonal waves. The Nine ‘Rasa’, the various moods and different feelings made me strong and my effort easy to make visible ‘Stars In Sunlight’ and to infer ‘The Sand Of Thoughts’ for my readers. In this collection of poems if somewhere I am proud of mankind, I have also expressed my displeasure in the

rhyme ‘We, The Daughters Of Eve’. I utilized the concept of unity of Body, Soul and Mind in the poems like ‘Soul Desires’. References from ‘The Holy Bible’ in some poems is the backbone of this construction. I hope this humble piece of work will provide you with the perspective of inspirational inner beauty and strength of nature and receiving self-assurance from sentiments and emotions. I want to pay due homage from the core of my heart to my father-in-law Mr. B. M. Cornelius and my father Mr. C. R. Gideon who have since left for their heavenly abode and whose blessings and inspiring words even today remain the embodiment of their holistic power which I feel within and has carved a nitch of life - time treasure in my being. I am grateful to my mother Mrs. Usha Gideon for her continuous prayers and blessings, concern and encouragement. I want to extend all love and gratitude to my loving and caring husband Capt. Amrit Cornelius under whose guidance I have been able to flourish my endowments. My three daughters Rajshree, Tanushree and Hritushree have been my strength and my life. I am thankful to all my friends and well-wishers who have been a great source of moral and encouragement while giving shape to this rhyming design and painting of this pioneer piece of artistic work of mine. I also put on record my heart-felt wishes and thanks for my publishers M/S Partridge India Publishing for extending their kind and valuable to me in times of distress, accruing due to constraints of time and finances and above all the difficulty in establishing direct one to one communication for clarifying issues at short notice.

A Remembrance From The Heart

Late Mr. B.M. Cornelius was a man embedded with winsome qualities of mind and heart. His impressions still bear imprints upon my thoughts and actions. He wrote in verse and his versatility in selection of topics was widely spread. As a mark of adoration and honour, I take this an opportunity to print his poem ‘Health Week’ which he wrote to signify and commemorate the importance of Health. He firmly believed that health is the power of man to fight against the worldly rigours and walk across to attain freedom from the clutches and fetters of social and circumstantial bondages.

Poem by Late Mr. B.M Cornelius in the original form

as was written by him and bears his signatures.

Be ive

Be steadfast like a rock in river, O my soul, to the weak, As here even a particle of sand Is strong enough to harm the feet.

Be sea in a drop of love, to quench The thirst of the bereft, As here it seems as if there were Oasis of love in all sides in thirst.

Be a controller of the wind as It may encircle only your being, So that you may allow it towards One who lacks breathing.

Be like honey so that you may Be preserved in any heart bowl, As here life demands acute

ion till farewell of soul.

Be a bank of life - river To confine the shoreline, As here all stretch their Weary hands for lifeline.

Be the fragrance of spring and A source of joy in others’ life, As here each season wanes but Forever lasts the sacrifice.

Faith Begets Ecstatic Joy

The first cry of a newly born baby Gives the world a feeling of joy, As a baby, at first, in this world Proclaims gift of faith in his cry.

But ‘Time’ turns cruel often Changing day, night and season, Changes feelings of the weak, Encloses his gift in delusion.

Why to forget God, the creator, His power and his comion ? See the sun, the moon and in all ‘He’ has expressed his attention.

In faith, be a baby For the whole life, In the optimist world even

In trials it presents man as wise.

Faith encourages to approach The truth, the way and the life. Jesus accepted death in faith For he was the world’s light.

So be courageous, believe In self for faith can defy All pessimism of the world And bestow man with ecstatic joy.

The Chocolate Soldiers

O that I could get the company Of my friends. Oh! Those chocolate soldiers In the fields of grains With kites, birds, butterflies And some green straw garlands.

Some were stubborn in front Of the submissive But the oneness was surely In those, the possessive. Those soft eyes were strong Enough in moulding The feelings of surrender, Acceptance and sharing. They would cry together And laugh hand in hand Either in fear or in sympathy

Or to imitate a friend.

How different was that world In its thoughts and actions From this world And also in its reactions. That was the world of Inquisitors, describers And foretellers. So enthusiasts Were those explorers. In those fields there was nothing Very clear to their space But the alluring point to them Was surely in each frame.

There were flowers in different Colours around the cactus. Many types of thorns Were there too for us. In running after the things How often would vanish the kites.

Happenings were the prediction About their destined skies.

The Peerless Phase

With golden mornings and Pink evenings, With swift rivers and Lofty hills, With wavy grass and Steady flowers, With feared eyes and Confident hearts, I was welcomed In a huge concert of art.

Group of birds were on high pitch, Mammals were on base. On rustling of leaves And rippling of waves Melody and harmony Was there in the orchestra. Reflection of light created

Mountain peaks spectra. All the emotions were Then soft like feather. Like an oasis were all sights Of pleasure. Whirlpools and hurricanes Were, as though, fun. I danced in moon light And cried in the sun. Sprouts were the ignition To feel the shine Either of eyes or of bosom Or of hairline. So funny were those thoughts And those ways. So tender and lovable were Those physical changes. In that concert of art, Of protagonist was my part. I tried my best, yet, To tell you the truth, at last

What I understood adolescence In life was but a spark.

The Crux Assures

The sweat is counted More than the sun, Calm mind is better Than the moon, Thousands of directions Are created through four, When ambitious amateurs sit Under open sky or on any shore.

Sitting on the sand Alone or with friends Their smile create A positive strength. Sharper are those eyes for nails That are hidden by grassland. Peaks are also not too steep For them to reach as is the trend.

All are stars of their Universe to shine. All are flowers of their Garden to smile. All have fragrance To spread in wide. All have confidence and Power to reach high.

Thankful are they all Under the sky that is blue When every thing is Clear in colourful hue. They all are resolute In their determination. They know that the crux assures So quietly strive to perfection.

The Commencement

How I felt when my mother Looked at me tenderly, Gave me comfort, To know not it, was naturally. But the softness of the love Of her hands and her sight Was the main source of comfort and The outset of wayfare of my life.

When my mother and I were Possessively united Sacrifice and all miseries Were defied. Why nothing is in this world For repaying her milk ? Because the soul aim was Of her to fold me in silk. She was not a cow or a lioness

But was the same whatever needed And so multicoloured feelings of Mine were confidently exhibited. Too strong was her resolution To shake by my rejection. Not like elders ; carefree was I Without realization That how floor was swept before my Running or crawling, That how my feet were made strong By sincere massaging.

I geared up my speed fast As though to the boil. Voice of the wilderness was Now my choice. Where and when her hand Was left, I knew not. Pining for her shoulder was The show at the spot. Seat, now, was dusty floor with

Pebbles and glass bits. No sound of her guidance was there And as if her hands were fixed. Now glass bits wiped my wounds, Pebbles were my guide. Climbing on height Nature made me realize Though, she had stopped to run After me and to prevent But her love for me had Made her omnipresent.

The Wheels Of Cart

Blinking lids say something, Stop others’ feet, Make them blank and Vibrate all their capillaries. I found them on the edges Of the fields of crop In the evenings or after The dawn, On the road sides or in the Corners of the colony’s park Or behind the window pane So what if it was a studio of art.

I found not in eyes sea or lake Those were only white and black, In their self-centred attitude Had no will for others to attract.

Does not shyness reside In bent eyelids ? Does not there require with love All wits ? Yes, this age does not allow To get the chosen one. The world too is against Such a display of love. So who wants to be a spouse Resists smiling expression. Secrecy is strength Of purity, love and perfection.

In crossing the valley of tears, In endeavouring for pinnacles, In diving deep in others heart, To dig out each emotional scar, One realizes the exactness Of circumference, Thickness and length of spokes Of the wheels of cart.

As the same wheels are the Source of comforting ride So the spouse of own choice Is the vigour of life.

The Divine Beauty

How cool is felt The moon with stars And clouds as if their ventures Were about to start. The sun also seems not in frenzy With igniting rays Without clouds or leaves In the month of may. Neither a heat wave nor A cold wave is felt piercing. Oh! To have or not to have rain Both are stimulating. Unforgettable charm looks In the spring and in the autumn When desire to please one Lies solemn. Nothing is acceptable That having sound,

That may make solitude and Break soothing surround. How ionate those eyes are! The two watch covetously, In acceptance of lust, with half Closed lids the two see closely. Darkness cannot create there Frozen atmosphere. The fire of thirst, joy and solace Brings all grandeur.

No one has power to change Or to guide the law of universe, Its destruction or submersion, Its harmony or behaving reverse. The divine beauty of purity in Becoming one of two souls Can be expressed only through Silence or rhyming folds.

O Golden Rays!

There are seven in one Says science about a colour Even has satisfied man’s logic, Made him agree in its own favour.

The world of thoughts see only The colour what opens the hidden And is equal everywhere That is the colour just golden.

Others see different colours, Their brightness, their beauty And the connection between The earth and the Almighty.

O Golden Rays, you dwell In pleasant morning shine, In midday bright and in the

Evening on the horizon line.

You enjoy dancing In the fields of ripe grain, With the adolescent waves and Mesmerizingly in drops of rain.

Whatever glitters on earth Is the reflection of superb Quality, quantity, In thought or in work.

By the crown of a king and The ornaments of a dame, You exhibit the ascendancy and For diligent you adorn with fame.

This world knows that the change Of destiny is not in your power But you are able to transmit The View of optimistic shower.

A Substantial Sacrifice

The sun comes and goes back Everyday as says the folktale, The moon keeps changing Its shape, The milky way also flows so Fast all night, All artwork of God disappears When the earth receives light.

By either storm or calm under tree Or by shedding tears from barks Or by healing all harms of life By dewdrops, In her outside appearance and Qualities that she has inside, All expressions of the earth Are so plain and so bright.

She keeps patience for long In receiving hot black spots In her heart and takes pleasure In giving allotrope. The anger she depicts Evidently as volcano Or Tsunami is a balancing Of unity of her five compo.

She implies the suggestion For the life of discretion With love, peace, joy And satisfaction. It is her strict advice To be forgiving and kind. Covering dirt of outer life, she Glorifies the beauty of sacrifice.

The Promise

So beautiful is the view Of the rainbow with its hues When it rains in the east And the sun smiles in the west.

Everyone wants to witness that Token of vow of love God has made for earth And wants it to preserve.

I pine for a vision of Noah’s ark, Its inside, its outer part And immersed world, the God’s art Atop the mount Ararat.

The beauty of this world with Varieties of colour, fragrance, Sound, light, opaque

And transparence,

Exhibits God’s love and gravity His confident view and action To completion and perfection And also the force of destruction.

Rainbow may be an illusion, Not inspiring structure, symbol Of false pleasure to the world But it is God’s true messenger.

It is not wrong a child’s mind In imagining of God’s being kind, ‘His’ having a pretty bow to fall Rain to increase green shine.

A ripe sees reflections of love That is filled in it in sequence And the forgiving nature of God In nature’s green appearance.

Soul Desires

“My soul, you express the desire To feel droplets of rain As same as this world does. Is it not all in vain ?’’

“Like all, I also not want solitude Nor do I desire to live recklessly But to receive comfort from it That accompany the breeze gaily. Not only I but a seed also Awaits it in the soil To receive heavenly oil To carve victory over turmoil. It is so obvious the joy of Nature When flora grows brighter, Covers the earth with own Handsome structure. Stimulating are the ways

Of fauna also hence I do not find The reason to refuse. Thus, I Humbly request you, my mind And also my abode, the companion Let not yourselves behind me Nor feel it wrong. In the blessed Life together are we three.’’

My Imagination Wings

These crystal and frosty Nights with fierce winds, Conspire to Influence on My imagination wings. In childhood to me Frosty plants Were fairies to play, Icy peaks were adorned castles Blessed with cheerful way. I would wait for pink hue On my cheeks what often grew, And moreover for enjoyment That used to be sure for my crew.

Defeating darkness the deific light Of Bethlehem illumines The fountainhead of the vigour And the felicity of man. As it is true that silver lining,

The sight of grandeur Lies behind the darkness of Fate or diminished pleasure.

With fairies of frost, peeping In the castle of my thought, Whatever I enjoyed as a child Is a treasure of my lot.

The Test Of Nature

In feeling discomfort at midday Of summer, birds are the first. With dried throat, tired animals Run miles to quench their thirst.

Reapers are busy in occupation Singing is their all time fashion. Wood cutters wipe sweat from Their forehead at each occasion.

Stonemason also does not stop On sarcasm of the sun on top. Man’s creation is similar to God, Unshakable, amenable, what not.

He recalls that Jesus had cursed Fig tree for its barrenness He makes himself fruitful,

Learns king David’s humbleness.

Without tears he gazes at the sun, Accepts it as irony of summer, The test of Nature. Impediments persist not longer.

Spring -The Commemoration

O heavenly grace, how finely you Honour glittering white crown Of the earth, your loving bride Who adorns her silky green gown With flowers of many kinds of Patterns blending-in brown.

How tenderly you console Her with dew at night. I feel so fresh seeing the emblem Of your love in a morning sight. As you guide the breeze, Its gentleness also pleases. The melody of birdsongs All the time refreshes.

The cuckoo starts Spreading her fine

Melody only in this season Far and wide.

Why is this splendid decoration, This celebration on the earth ? Does the fall of one star in This season not carry any worth ?

The eyes that were blind before Are now getting the reason.

He who would stop The bleeding of others Was bearing the wounds Now on his own shoulders. Comfort giving palms Were nailed. To harm his body The spear was shaped. Silence had veiled His solace giving lips.

Vinegar was His last sip.

A tree was made a symbol Of sacrifice. That is acknowledged Worldwide. He who was made Humble to the dust Was actually God’s The most loving son.

Pondering conscientiously On this celebration Of turning to dust Or of turning to gold, Of extinguishing the spark Or of firing the wood, Of hearing the musical notes Or of hearing the wails, Of being lured

Or giving comfort to the soul, Of being honoured with flowers Or of sitting on thorns, Of enjoying the dewdrops Or of counting of blood drops.

Only in the countenance of yours O grace, upon the swaying crops, In the rhythm of rain drops, In the redness of dawn, In the satisfaction of dusk, In abundance of mercy, In celebration of peace, I understand the nature’s feel That spring is the commemoration Of the same sacrifice. That was done to establish Peace forever for mankind.

An Engraved Inspiration

The fall of leaves off the tree, Their spreading in the field, Rustling on the free blow, Their turning into brown, To have a look of crushed leaves On ground and empty trees In the state of thin and lean, Appears dreadful all the scene.

Corpse too looks Yellow or brown. Whose forehead had enjoyed In his life the crown.

God renders his impartial Thought in creating all. Each season is diversely the best Spring or pestilent fall.

For calmness at delicate point Must lave self pity, Autumn is an engraved inspiration To be strong for own entity.

O Silvery Rays!

Man infatuated by you But then, not irrationally too. You may ask, why ? And so there is a reply –

You fall on those with whom This world resides in the joy Of darkness and gives them A feeling of the high.

You fall definitely on those Whom this world leaves In the darkness of dread And makes them ives.

In their state of loneliness You give them a feeling of company That is cherished

By them endlessly.

O Silvery Rays, as you are made For night, low and to be reliable You are equal in character So plain, pure and humble.

Thus, when man feels the sea of Emotions in his aloneness You make him realize The strength of togetherness.

Mirth Is Bliss And Perpetual

With the toys she plays with him But from him she hides her SIM. She gives him bath at noon Tries to make him sleep then soon. Melody that she sings in love Smiles naughty baby in fun. Wow! The mother receives mirth Through the son. Blessed is the child That has one. This occurrence is usual. Mirth is bliss and perpetual.

The Moments Of Togetherness

While you come, sit beside me I get a feeling of being ‘we’, Though, I am not weak in any field Yet, your shoulders are a shield.

I adorn myself with pretty things But beauty desires else’ wings. Its meaning turns true When petals are showered by you.

When you come with arrow of cupid It is hard for me to open the eyelids, For shyness veils me sometimes Or I enjoy seeing me by your eyes.

The moments of togetherness Are the ecstasy of lovingness. What encourages me to endure

With being helpful and pure.

Turn Not Virtue

O my soul, see how buds wear thorns Animals misuse not their horns. Birds and flies have the same art In own skies both are so smart. The wind provides its evidences For icy or aggressive influence. To attain the blossom of vow Flexibility sustains like a bow, Sentient are all, have fortitude So turn not virtue in profane tune.

In The State Of Being Alienated

No melody echoes of birds Within one, nor any petal lures. Being alienated one lacks aroma Of love and loses all cures.

Agreed! Deceit pains one’s soul, Destroys his body’s vigour, Making his sweetheart perverse, Kills his all fervour.

Deceit is unable to grasp ‘Time’ So with intention to lay waste, Soul must not be guided to wild Nor too deep under soil in haste.

But must recall crosses of past, Did not let soul - mate in tear, Ways of remaining steadfast and

Enjoying moments without fear.

By being humble to darkness, Giving angle to light, Having substance within self, Must plan for own soul’s delight.

Harmonized Concurrence

The way one speaks, does or thinks Is viewed wrong sometimes As his taste, dressing sense, Choice for whatever he designs, His choice for heroes or fans And for books of trends, The lifestyle and the selection Of even his friends. One’s riches or poverty, One’s lowliness or sublimity The world finds in all discord, That is its instinctive faculty.

One is called pretty sometimes Or ugly too. Comforter sometimes Or is called shrewd. Diligent is also subdued

By juvenile. Oh! One’s joy gets This world hostile.

The other’s way that is necessary And good for own periphery, One adopts those by corrections Or modified artistry. Through wayfare of life It is an adjustment Between obstacles And own contentment.

To wear smile in pain is not easy Yet, called a strength or a fancy.

Why the change be In only one’s inner being ? Is this world able to move On one wheel ? How would compromise flourish

And adjustment be furnished ? Consent and happiness is a must. Caring builds love and trust.

An emotional thought, A rational performance Harmonizes souls, Bring poles into concurrence.

Strength And

Jesus is with you today And everyday, and so my dear soul, Do not keep fingers crossed For one day or someday.

Jesus made Peter walk on water Do not forget, The storm was humbled and The waves made softer.

See hands of Jesus, the Almighty. Do not apprehend The hands nailed for piety On the cross hold you on priority.

An Encounter With Fear

The bird’s eye view of landscape Is always beautiful. Man’s heart longs for it, Misses not if it is possible. Nature renders her divinity And full zeal, When man touches her And tries to feel. Here comes a point While in deep thought, Brighter rays come To help in seeing what Boundaries are of man And animal habitat. Those fields are not easy For man to steal.

It begins scrolling the layers

Of my reminiscences Which to my life are Colours and fragrances. As youth is short, I planned and Prepared myself without delay The beauty of paths on the Vindhyas Were received in many ways. Autumn was defeated On slopes of ranges. Amid greenery the river Rihand Danced with full of elegance. I was in awe Seeing such a wild Where scents, melodies And hues were fine. I was informed of all Lovely and wrongs Of the Vindhyas that might Please or harm. Stories of several dreadful Past occurrences

That had made me anxious To make those my experiences.

With my friend while Strolling down the road, Drawing to dark that evening Got me low. We came across a man Crossing the road. “He is a gardener, as earlier I had told.” Listening to my friend I looked at him. Horrible was the scene As he had no chin, No lips and no nose was On his face. Only two eyes were there Beneath the forehead. Scanty hair were on The bald head

As if a few patches of grass Were on the wasteland. The claws had exerted Their power And so less part of the ears Were there amid scars.

Except me, there, he was seen By everyone. His encounter with bear and how He had saved was known. Feeble were found the words What I had heard To the marks of horrid fight What were in front.

Pity had overpowered My fear. Made me able To see him and hear. Though, uneasy was he,

Yet, bade me humbly. Thoughtful was I, Handled him amiably.

We, The Daughters Of Eve

Do not feel like we are apples, Pretty buds or bunch of grapes, Young trees or bloomed flowers If cannot feel deep roots of ours. We, the daughters of Eve Have been taken to be weak. Eve’s first sin had been forgiven So, to fault, we cannot be driven.

A snare of beastly, a lustful eye, A room having narcotic light, The field where fun you enjoyed, The secret bushes for you to hide.

Now, all it brings strength to us. The tumult of sore is soul of us. Has made our blood boiled over. We challenge you to cross over

Now, the fire of wrath, The smoke of our harm And resentment And the flames of our insult.

There is no sea of tears Nor a wave of fear Nor the salt of anguish To give us pain here. On the crossroad we are sitting In state as you were at your birth. O cowards, come and dare feel God’s purity and own inner dirt.

Courage An All –Time Weapon

Day may be brighter and night Darker, do not argue with light. Vision may fail, colour may be grey Doubt not your own courage.

It helps in becoming a mother Of a girl, though, not easy to, In becoming ive father Of a son when others do not bother.

Under risks and adversities, In freedom and optimistic feel, In forgiving or itting fault, In being altruistic or at halt.

It’s stronger than soldier’s arm Evidently, can defend the storm. For the existence of a nation,

Courage is an all- time weapon.

They Are The Specimen…..

They work in hot sunshine And walk for miles. They suffer Body ache all night till day’s start.

Decorated with disgrace Their castles are on footpaths. They shiver in winter’s draft.

They wear pleasing smile Hide troubles all the while. Accept their life’s cursed part.

Those labourers are the trust, Specimen of the just, indeed, Of God’s, the best art.

Wrath must be inflicted on us. They are result, the figures

Of cruelty of our hearts.

It Disgusts…..

You will say, yes on it agreeably What I am about to tell frankly. We are in society, hence usually We help or are helped happily.

Since we are threads or the point Of fastening of the web of Social relationship, thus, Many among us do not make fuss.

They go beyond matter of course They know the easy way of force, Deal with emotion without burst, Manage the time, fund or thirst.

But some of us deal differently, They need help and get it easily. After help they feel uneasy,

In return behave imively.

The Embodiment Of Inspiration

The ruddiness of the east, The arriving sun’s clue Enhances the brightness With pink and blue Of the silvery Taj - Mahal With the westward dark hue And makes visitors speechless At watching it’s view.

Carvings on walls, engravings On coloured see-through stones, Accuracy and elegance with Dimensions and angles, Are the embodiment of Shah-Jahan’s imaginations. Its varied effulgent glow by day Are Mumtaz’s lovely expressions.

The Taj looks strong in summer As if a soldier were with arms. In winter it reflects warmth As sage’s sermon spreads calm. Amid fog it veils itself As a bride hides her face shyly. Like a groom dark clouds also Surround it magnificently.

The Taj, an icon of love, Splendid but is dead stone. With the river Yamuna it beams To horizon and humbles each soul. Given the dusk as swan-song It defeats all things of fame. Greeting dawn it inspires man To fidelity and to be humane.

The Apprehensible Peace

The sun, the moon and all stars, The movement of the wind, How sincere are these all That bring each year spring.

The day, the night, the dawn or The dusk, rivers or stones, All beasts or you and I, all have Own paths and own homes.

Things are now obvious why David, The king had a fear of enmity, Would pray for protection and Why Solomon declared all vanity.

David put trust in the Lord God. He was sure of ‘His’ graces, Of all ‘His’ wonders of old,

‘His’ mercies and golden phrases.

Solomon, the wise king fathomed Under the sun, the ruler is ‘Time’. The judgment day asks to fear God As the whole duty of mankind.

Jeremiah and Isaiah, the prophets Were sad as they found man’s heart Deceitful, desperately wicked, Not able to get peace, the power.

But then, Jesus, the son of God Simplified the rules of old law. He ordered to love his father And not to forget his vow.

“To love is to respect,” He said. “That lies in obeying His words”. “Forgive the enemy”. This way Jesus preached the world.

He calls troubled, tired people From carrying heavy loads. As he is humble and gentle Gives rest to sojourns and souls.

Man perceives his mercy and glory In his declaration that he gives “The easy yoke and the light load” So prepares himself to receive.

Jesus Christ gives his peace to all. The same glorious peace that made Him tranquil in the midst of the Cruel and the hearts full of hate.

Absence of pain and the same peace Enables man to forget harms Of past, to deal with present and To hope in God, lying calm.

Fortifying in torments Peace leads to destination. Increasing love for God Peace brings salvation.

As Blood Is Red

How less is the space even for four Though, so near are two big doors. The hearts of s are strangers Yet, they are called neighbours.

The might of the society may shed Blood of the wretch as they want. Their thirst might be rich But souls not of high cost.

They should not penetrate The sky making skyscrapers, Ignoring by dwellers at slums, As now, corpses need no dumps.

Worthless is the arrogance of man That leaves flora eradicated And fauna frightened,

Homeless and capitulated.

They must sweeten their vessels Direct flow to those are in need, Long for peace of the poor’s wings, Harmonize melody that they sing.

They Feel Afflicted

Comfort was in mother’s lap discomfort would bear her back. Oh ! That power would carry The affection in all sorts of pain.

Quiet and calm, the father would Lead family through the woods With torrentuous contempt to get Peace in unknown neighbourhood.

Sitting in the moon light Near the tent they both would Recall their childhood, hot sun, Lovely moon, joy what they could, The phase of hiding face, Leaving behind commodities, As if they were culprits and Their becoming of refugees.

Why do I lack in words to reply and Feel accused of making shelter? The absence of feeling of brother Fears them to call me neighbour. I also want calm wind to breathe, An environment to feel esteemed, Little dust to feel as though mine, A piece of sky to shape defined.

Such a depiction of emotions With a sigh of affliction Is of a refugee to stir man towards Solemn citizen globalization.

Where Enthusiasm Awaits

However walls may be high May receive air and sunlight, Carpet may be exquisitely fine Things may be set in exact design Abiders may be dexterously nice Without being a benevolent soul Without decorated threshold No one can call it home sweet home.

At the doorsill well up emotions That bloom in the core of a heart At the time of welcome of guests Even at the time of their depart.

How similar are the two gateways Of a home and of the heart, Are the beginning points of life So diligence warrants at each start.

They bring out the real in man Where he enters enlightenment, At repulsion, they deliver peace And the beauty of contentment.

Yet, they are different in forms Either small or charitably large, Slower or quicker in reactions But both are closed of sad hearts.

Each entrance is a destination As a speech - harsh or amiable, As a thought - evil or good, As an effort - immoral or noble.

So enriching with beads of deeds And buds of love, open the door Of heart for the world of truth Does the same with its threshold.

A Judicious Vision

Struggles amid roving thirst Gets baffled on roads and turns, Fails to adopt right criteria. Why does man not Select the sunny area ?

The breath challenges the air, Eyes enfold the flood of tears, Hands cut mountains. Why does man not Lie steadfast on sands ?

The confidence of heart looses, The ing hand leaves, The Valley of difference grows. Why does man not Learn from winning foes ?

Makes web of schemes or fears, Adjusts time, circles and corners, Hammers nails favourably. Why does man not Handle situations delicately?

Lacks depth ; desires peaks, Stubborn is about own beliefs For an aim, wisdom is the essence. Why does man not Rely on patience ?

Stars In Sunlight

Since stars shine only at night, The world must be made dark If one desires a similar shine.

Where is satisfaction ? Without It eyes are void, heart is ice. Oh! Denial of the sun, the prime.

Sitting in a room for a while You can observe numerous stars In a gleam of light.

These are size less, weightless, Tiny parts of the soil ; homeless, Still, glow in daylight.

A Path Of Life

Sometimes straight or curved, Long or short, broad or narrow, Thorny or smooth, towards Low or high are the paths of life.

From home to spiritual abode or Workplace, out of courage From villages to cities, towards Happiness lead the paths of life.

To light a lamp of love in heart, To remove ignorance and harm, Out of eleemosynary from cities To villages lead the paths of life.

To rid the society off corruption, The innocent off terrorism, To induce peace in mankind

Lead the paths of life.

In the guise of beauty or peaks, By the lure of grand or radiant, Drawing far and away from truth Towards void lead the paths of life.

To give hope to the dejected With unknown destination, To make prodigal return home, Towards rest, lead the paths of life.

To give strength from own burden, To follow Jesus’ version, To gain life and truth, turns “Hard and Narrow” a path of life.

An Unyielding Way

The prick of a thorn on trail Inspires to take notice of sky. It is not a dream while sleeping But a very real aim while flying.

That brings a heart to another To give confidence and light That all is possible for man When he takes Almighty’s advice.

Clarifying concept in nature Of coloured buds and fragrance, This belongingness gives way To receive endurance.

The steps of bud-flower-scent Grow conscience in sequence To set issues in responsibleness,

Exalt endowments in time’s fence.

Truth must lie in the core as To speak out the same is God’s art. An eye must use for sea and tides Man’s life is also likewise.

As blessings of seasons are for all Willpower must listen each call, Its flow should be tremendous For shaping man scrupulous.

Am Proud Of Mankind

How joyous was God When he had created Man and woman. On seeing the embodiment Of own imagination And pattern. There might be A radiating smile of pride In his facial gesture.

You may say it wrong Or blessing or command Of the creator. But I am proud Of man’s beauty, prowess And his stature.

In the cosmos nothing

Is impossible for man Even single hand. Without feet he can measure The distance and the fathoms Even the fields of arid sand.

Man’s devoutness, Willingness to extend each other And his dealings in a kind way Are the reasons of Protection of mankind From doomsday.

The Sand Of Thoughts

Shimmering golden or silvery, Disguises as if oasis seemingly, Sand allures little palms and feet To make images with it happily. In dismantling or erecting Castles, warriors, their drills, Different folk, animals, fruits And flowers by children, Sand suggests how to restore Broken emotions without Feeling pain and without Creating knots. So I love the sea beach to watch.

When the relaxers sit on the beach, Forgetting scorn till skyline. They enjoy soothing breeze, The sun -n- sands silvery shine.

In sands’ stickiness, itch and While removing it from their fists, In their happiness Moving their fingers on it, Sand suggests how easily sorrows Finish if both hands are ed. Enjoying sea beach, from ‘Him’ I also want to be assigned.

After ing through Considerable span of life Sitting on the sea beach In an evening time. I saw going down of the sun, Flying of birds with fun, Reddening of the west, Fading of the signs of footsteps. I experienced the quietness Of dusk on the sea - n - sands. Where day had enjoyed The fair of oaths of soul - mates.

Yes, the sun cannot turn back To see the signs of footsteps, Oh! Wounds on the bosom of sand. But he accepts his destined fact. Cold, moist sand suggests To ruin is Nature, Confidence and hope do not leave Till soul’s departure.

Do Not Be Disheartened

Streaming his rays between Leaves in trees in the morn, The sun moves rapidly towards Darkness leaving all. The wind takes seeds far away From the land before the fall. Hiding themselves, thorns too Are anxious to harm. Yet, flowers smile whole day long. So gather love - flowers. Do not be disheartened Arrange them in a heart - vase.

There is a war of existence Between the weak and the strong. Oh! It leaves pain of scorn Like a capsizing boat in storm, Like a broken bough

Or a bird’s broken wing, Like a befallen hill Or destruction by the whirlwind. Yet, on borders white flags are Hoisted in air with a sound sense. My soul, do not be disheartened. Fill vase with the sereneness.

Expect love from the eye and the Very same will exhibit hate. Destroys the mirror of heart the Same whose image is in it safe. The world is full of flames of Jealousy, anger and enmity. But you are a vase filled With the love of Almighty, “Greater than faith and hope.” So be first in own chastening. Do not be disheartened Kindle the lamp of feelings.

Accept Adversity Calmly

Milky rays of the moon Hide the pretty faces of stars But only for some nights. The sun too harms Certain things but his Heat is always right. Tides of the sea are often Forceful in their flow But still the ebb is always fine. Autumn gets trees deprived Leaves orphaned to wander But spring gives them smile. Yellow leaf never turns green. Sands never form rock But the water flexibly perform. If Nature herself is a tide, Disaster keeps peace alive then Accept adversity calmly in life.

How I Wish I Could Be The Wind

How I wish I could be the wind To blow to the infinity. No one could restrict me Nor I could the vicinity. I wish to be such wind as could Break hills and flood seas. I wish to be heated wind That could increase smoke Of anger and could create The sound of the deep For those who want to put The world into endless sleep.

I wish to be the soothing breeze That could inspire The branches of trees to swing With their weak leaves, The birds to float in the sky

With their discontented wings, The animals to leap With their crouching feet, And man to be agreeable Not only for mankind But also for all living beings In the ways that are refined.

I wish to be such wind as could Re-fresh the morning, Warm the noon and Make cool the evening And travelling through Spring - summer - winter - autumn, I could fall with rain To sprout colourful flowers In the spiny stems, To make the world know The truth that I carry A streak of ‘His’ strength.

The Artistic Impact

Weary travellers, thirsty animals In the hot summer days Enjoy sitting under the shade of A drooping elm beside the ways.

Feared child, his puzzled mind In the phase of his adolescence Receives strength in the shade of Parent’s love and confidence.

It is true that under the huge Tree, grass does not survive, Staying in nest for a long while The chicks forget how to fly.

Still, the shade of any kind for Shorter while or of shorter space In life erases weariness,

Energizes the will to face.

Being blessed with God’s love And advice of former wise souls, Man, thus, flourishes The shade of wisdom of his own.

This Drives To Vow To Strive

A sight of smiling bunch of Buds and flowers amid pine, Or the fleet of dancing birds In the bright sun shine Or among heavy black clouds Drives man to vow to smile. A sight of aggrieved family Being bereft of young son Or a sight of teenager’s anger Who wishes to destroy the world Drives man to vow to spread The actual meaning of life.

So, the sight of any kind of solace In Nature Or the sight of fear created by man This contrasting derivations Of vows of man verily drives

A person to vow to strive.

In Search Of A Meaning

So lovable is the feeling Of desire which stops one’s Effort in vain and leads him To perfect happiness.

So valuable is the feeling Of desire which becomes A companion of one and Lessens his wretched loneliness.

So pitiable is the feeling Of desire which leads one To high in life but is called A reason of his faultiness.

So reasonable is the feeling Of desire which leads one To the pleasure of less valued

And more in mildness.

So venerable is the feeling Of desire which leads one To God’s path that expects one’s Life with all kinds of humbleness.

On Independence

You may have different Meanings of freedom of thought, Its expression, And of freedom of a nation.

But to me what I practically see, It is only like in the open sky, Restrained one’s watching Other’s established goal or joy.

Why are families in scarcity, Palaces fenced with flowers ? Are you not able to see empty palms And in eyes a scorn ?

Why are there such big trees To yellow the grass ? Where live the shrewd eagles

Who eat up the bits of glass.

Oh ! The poor transparent, Which often become pretty art. Are you not able to see the sore feet And filled with love in the heart ?

Land is to sprout, mountain Is to keep with-in bound, River is to flow, And the wind is to create sound.

Equilibrium is in Nature Except man, even so should claim. Freedom is a collective progress So we easily can attain.

The Progressive Movements

My prayers are always with you And with those who protect you. Celebrations with them, O dear, Is a privilege for you. May you posses hues variant Upon the crown radiant. May people call you The real efficient.

I also feel sleepy when On my arms you lie And look at me With your soft little eyes. So serene are the moments When we are together, Alas! So fast move Their feathers.

May you get the sun With some clouds. May you get shelter In those clouds. May you get comfort In such shelter. May you get grace Of the colour purple.

Weathers are different here, You will find. You will enjoy it How they are entwined. Birds are in feathers That is the winter. Shelters too are not Cooler that is the summer.

Like the weather you Will find people In different colours, statures

And in natures. Who will teach you How to laugh, How to wipe own tears And how to grasp.

I have come to you dear, My grand child reminiscing past That how was I as a child And a parent at last. In my to and fro, The age was vast. Not I alone this know That Time runs fast.

Hope Is Strength

To hope in God Makes man embodiment of strength That flows from the power of God.

Jesus Christ taught us The use of this thread by his Resurrection from the dead.

Thus, rejoice in hope, be patient In tribulations and prayers as Saint Paul said, “Be constant.”

This forms character in place. Man feels at ease in sinking phase, To him hope never brings disgrace.

Pride Within !

Wonderfully sprout seeds Also give way to weeds, The grass hopes only in rain Autumn’s faith never goes in vain. Every condition of sin Jesus Christ has nullified, His feeling to forgive is the Greatest sacrifice of the world.

‘He’ has endowed with The power over life, Then why do we feel Without ‘Him’ can survive ? Is it because we are walled In arms and wealth, We can compensate for calamity, Or for others can create distress ?

Then why do we feel so proud Of ourselves ? Is it because we have ‘His’ physical resemblance Or we care for flora and fauna Only with selfish hand, Even for mankind we are not Suitable to be a reliable band ?

The Irony Of Triumph

The efforts of man do not reach The satisfaction nor their Destinations are permanent.

For man aims at accomplishment So seeks heart that is in need or That gives others contentment.

Oh ! Leaving old things Poor man gets tempted By the new allurement.

Why not ? The brightness of dawn and of Eventide is also different.

After ing perplexed night He learns life, receives

Musical wings of daylight.

The power of change makes him Stronger. The time blade Shapes him straight.

Sometimes hard or sometimes Like dew drops, he is made By the tests of fate.

To feel just at defeating wrong Or to have hope, all efforts in life Are one another’s consequent.

Eternity To Eternity

In the pursuit of the start point Of my humble feeling of love I peered into life where All was not like a dove. First of all, I consoled And suggested my hold Not to be baffled In varieties of gold.

In the bosom of my mother Or with the finger of my father Oh no! Dwelling of love was In the eyes of my lover.

How pretty are the colours Prismatic but the red Absorbs all to become one and To declare that it is not dead.

My young sight sought love In my brothers and friends. In the core of horizon It became fragrance.

Truth, love and violence In wayfare of life is genuine I have accepted this with My whole internal union. For the Almighty had started This combination At river Jabbok With His beloved Jacob. Yes, Jesus also commanded Man to turn against beloved To be courageous on ‘His’ path and To be strenuous for the troubled.

The prominent footsteps Of determined guides,

The buds of love that Were crushed in fights, The greenery that was Hidden in angry flames, The silvery sounds that Resounded in anguish and wails, All call to posterity Because the same moisture Of air consists a tear The same thrill abides In joy and fear. All are in the orbit Of eternity to eternity, Balancing inevitably In the hands of the Almighty.