Life is a locked book the first and last pages are filled with ultimate events birth and death but how the other pages are drilled?
The one who is born with an ideal aim, tries to fulfill it even if the dark comes up he never gives up and finally crosses the stage of runner up.
The one who just think of an aim tries to reach the moon but if he lands among the stars he doesn’t feel bad.
then comes the one who doesn’t have any aim his life becomes a level down game the story of grasshopper and his life becomes same his luck would be one whom he blame and finally, he vanishes his name.
The one who opens the locked book fills it with inspirational life experiences. The one who can’t open it should find its appropriate keys. And the one who doesn’t want to open it, can never taste the beautiful life.
(1) It was a mix of demons. Honour killing to save the damaged inside. You were found in lotus position, hands tied, buried in a hole. (2) The twin plants: god and goddess of procreativity were shedding trumpet-shaped pink flowers.
11 There is living after death, there is death before life, Ordinary living which is in scrambles of destituteness, Destituteness of idealism, of knowledge meaningful, of utter candidness. Dull realities of weeds, weeds of rampant ignorance, averment Of void words,
Perhaps she lives In our dreams alone, She whose face is Illumined By the rays Of the sun, While the dansette plays Some romantic melody, O how I love The one Who lives in my perfect love. It’s so strange,
As the becoming abhorrence, Becomes, My shattered self emerges Antipathetic,so Averse and gripe. I find the resentment, Take control. My cosmos engulfed, By tides of detestation. My love, my life, I see turning to hate. Objections and repulsions, Are all