The Untold Stories

Tears are draining,  Smiles are fading,  Go Corona! Go!  How many more lives do you want?  How much grief do you still desire? 

Dark was the day, As dark as colour could never say; Dark with no light, Too dark to mean anything but night;

It was eight in the morning The sun was shining Little Bee-Zoo-Bee was packing It was his first assignment in collecting

In the sweating hearts of the communists In the minting machines of the capitalists In the violent roars of the revolutionists In the silent pleas of the protagonists We are the running force We are the burning fuel

Little girls were we when we spent time giggling in laughter, Those were the best days when our cycle bells always jingled together; Here we are today with two decades of life dodging behind, Still innocently bound in friendship with boundaries undefined;

నీ స్వరం కావాలి ఓ కరవాలం       మన్ను తినెడి మురళి ధారుడి మధుర గానం తిరగవ్రాసి పన్ను తినెడి ప్రజా ప్రతినిధులు ప్రజల నిధులను భక్షించిననాడు నీ స్వరం కావాలి ఓ కరవాలం అశేష ఆంక్షలకై విశేష వాంఛలకై నిశేష జనావలి ముందు చేసిన   కఠోర ప్రతినలను గుర్తుచేసేందుకై !

ఆచారమా ! లేక దురాచారమా ! ముక్కొటి దేవతలు ముక్తకంఠంతో ముక్కంటి మోముకు వందనం తెలుపగ ఆ మధుర ఘట్టం కాంచ మైమరచి మానవాళి మజిలీలుగ తరలిరాగా దైవస్తానంలో దేవతల సన్నిధిలో వందలాది భక్తులు తొక్కిసిలాటలో తుధిశ్వాస విడిస్తే ఆచారమా ! లేక అది దురాచారమా ! సాంఘిక వైరమా ! లేక మానవాళిదే నేరమా !

Time to Weed the 'Need' Good morning my dear son! Hope you are coping well with your one. Today I have decided to speak to you for, the remaining days of my life span are very few.

A pleasant day, my dear friend! I am tree, speaking to you, a moment before my end I have been living with you since my childhood And so hope that you do not have anything to do with my wood

I have been taught to salute the National Flag, I have been taught to respect the National Song, But today I don’t find either of them deserving When compared to ‘you’ who are living for our well being.

A Friend; Without crossing this six lettered word called friend, No life in this world would ever end; For, people of any state or any religion Any caste or any region, Can be bound together by this relationship Commonly known as friendship;

On a fateful day, at a fateful time, Took place the unfortunate birth of mine;         I call it fateful because, from then on it was only hell that I could see, I call myself unfortunate as no great heavens were waiting for me;

It was pitch dark night with a heavy down pour, When I had landed on my life’s door; It was an hour of merry to my entire family, Neither the darkness nor the wetness can stop anyone from visiting me immediately; The day was decided to be auspicious,

It’s a short but sweet journey That exists as a long lasting memory To those days’ manual ring-ring To today’s electronic Tring-Tring It is the same sound that straightens every child as a spring

It was a fine winter morning When I and my friend reached our school shivering We were the first to reach the school And so were blushing with pride in our shining wool

        It was a tiny but a harsh spark of light That woke me up from my sleep of countless nights. It was then that I should have moved away from my mother’s womb, But actually I woke up from my tomb.

Punjab-Sindhu-Gujarata-Maratha Dravida-Utkala-Banga Vindhya-Himachala-Yamuna-Ganga Uchchhala-Jaladhi Taranga A happy Republic Day to entire India, On behalf of a poor man, uncovered by any national media