Wishes for my dear Mother...

Wishes for my dear Mother...

Wish every morning in your life be a spring morning Ma,
With fresh soothing breeze gently touching your cheeks...


Wish every noon in your life flow like a sparkling river Ma,
With your shining pearl like eyes singing melodious songs...


Wish every evening in your life be a golden evening Ma,
With the fragrance of blooming jasmines filling your lungs...


Wish every night in your life be a full moon night Ma,
With the cool moonlight carrying peaceful heavenly dreams...

Sunset by the Lake...

I sat alone on a bench, located by the side of the silent and secluded lake as sun is about to set, marking the end of this day.

I carried with me a bag full of experiences and emotions, some joy and some sorrow which I collected restlessly all through the day.

Now as I relax to refresh my mind, I could hear silence around me and even its loud echo…

As the lake stared at me with wide unblinking eyes, I was struck dumb;

I felt like smiling… But there are no more smiles left for this day as I gave away all my smiles to the orphan children down the street this morning…

I felt like laughing… But there are no more laughs left for this day as I lavishly spent them during the lunch hour with friends…

I felt like crying… But all my tears are still at my home, safely locked in my cupboard; I forgot to carry them along with me when I left home this morning…

As the sun set slowly, the lake continued to stare at me, hoping that I will respond…

I remained silent - " expressionless… "

Welcome Monsoon...

Summer season in India is almost packing its bags for a vacation as rainy season is ready to join the duty.

The spongy white rabbit is eagerly waiting for the first drop of rain from the sky…

Where are the rains... Where are the cool rains...

The new born puppy asked his mother, “How does rain look like Mama?”

His mother replies, “My dear puppy, this is going to be your first rainy season, you know the rain drops look like pearls, have little patience, the cool rains are almost here”.

The cool rains are already on their way so the celebrations began…

The frogs are bursting with joy as they watch the peacocks dance to the tunes of parrots and pigeons…

The sparrow's family visited the dove’s nest this evening and they just began singing in chorus and announcing in loud jubilant voices the arrival of rainy season...

A herd of deer is playing a game of hide and seek as the eagle gives effortless smiles watching them from high above…

Come cool rains, come and wet the parched lands which were burned down by the scorching summer heat and touch the hearts of people…

Are you ready to taste the fresh sweet drops of the first rain?

Calm and Peaceful Morning…

Colourful dreams spring up in my heart this morning which is calm and peaceful…

The mountains are silently speaking to the trees; trees are speaking to leaves; leaves to flowers and flowers to butterflies. The butterflies now come near me and speak of silence, calmness and peace…

One butterfly looks into my eyes and listens :

My lips remained still as I spoke with my eyes, "At one corner of the street, a mother, who got up early this morning, kisses the sleeping child. And at an other corner, the Worldly people ask - How can tiny drops dare hope to declare any relationship with the ocean? "

The ocean is nothing but a collection of drops, but if every drop detaches itself and stays separate, will there be any ocean?

Now, should the ocean be called as a huge collection of drops or should a drop be called as a part of the ocean?

Without the drops, will the ocean have any identity? Without the ocean, will the drops have sufficient identity?

Hearing the questions, the butterfly laughs :

"Your life is a journey, you are just a traveler; you are moving from soul to soul, drifting from dream to dream and God, who is watching you from above, enjoys your tour."

God as a poet writes the poem of your life…

“What am I dear butterfly? What is my true identity? ", I question with my eyes again.

“You are a Nursling of Mother Nature”

"My gratitude dear butterfly, where have you come from, now where do you go? "

"I was born in the beautiful gardens of your soul, I live drinking the sea of nectar from the flowers bloomed in your heart and now I fly back into the garden of your soul again, to live there forever."


Saying so, the butterfly flew, it flew into the magnanimity of my mind; it flew into the generosity of my spirit and it flew into the nobility of my soul…