And she sat there , in front of her fiery son , laid forever , in pieces of uneven fiery wood , quiet as usual but this pious stillness was for forever , she was fixed to the ground, she sat straight , head high her eyes closed , shut and compact , the kohl washed away drop by drop . she was quiet , counted her beads of rosary for the last time , she prayed for her son . and her son , yes he , his spirit moved around aimless in search of a body , to osculate his mother’s feet and for the last time , hopes in vain .
The best yoga of a day is reading a poem or a book .....A complete peace of mind and a refresher .... Things become easy when u have a complete mental peace .... Stop each and every work for 2 minutes , read a poem and i bet you will feel fresh all over again :)
I have finally come to the spot Where the rubber meets the road. Where you open your eyes But cannot see. Any farther than the grave. Many years of struggle and pain. A story with a beginning, A miserable middle,