There was once a little daffodil,
Category: life
I Could Die Today
I could die today,
Not a man who is all happy,
But neither a man so morose.
I could die today,
Not a man who is free as a bird,
But neither the one in chains.
I could die today,
Not the man, a saint,
Neither the devil, not Satan’s heir.
I could die today,
Not a man of Midas’ touch.
Neither destinies dreaded orphan.
I could die today,
Not a man who lived as nature,
Neither the man who heard not the rustling leaves.
I could die today,
Not the one to walk behind Buddha,
But neither the lost soul of Maya.
I could die today,
Not the man of all fulfilled dreams,
But one with all that matters in life and death.
For all I could care,
I could die today,
A happy man, A happy man in death.
Bonds to Cherish
The art of letting go
During the short tenancy upon this earth it is true that we must at many times learn to let go. Every time something dear and near to us dematerializes, one has to cope survive the vast vacuum it leaves behind. But always the real challenge is to acknowledge it’s transiency, even when one knows what that is lost is lost and no longer ones to cry over. The real challenge is to accept that something’s no more and no longer worth saddening over.
The Silhouette of Silence
The Bird with the Broken Wing
But then it had occurred on that day when the fate stood still, as it watched an eternal criss-crossing of destinies when my little bird had got hurt by some despicable evil. Her wings had been clipped, her freedoms curtained, she fell from the sky like a stone on to the heaps of scarlet leafs. She laid there in waiting for my warm hands to cup her and carry her to the warm coziness of my home and to the warmer corners of my heart. There I did dress her would with much love and compassion as if she was my little daughter, that too quiet literally with bandages and ointments that I had. I cared for her, I looked after her and from that day forth till today we spend innumerable evenings discussing and rambling about many a wonderful things during our customary evening siesta.
The Sensual Art of Love
The Room and the Inn

The question
Back to sensuality
An Obituary

Next to depart was a person of such adorable nature, grandmother of my roommates, a very special person to him hence a very special person to me. I have seen her, been in her presence hardly minutes yet those moments shine through the kaleidoscope of my mind. She was a real women with an almost divine aura about her. I don’t want to talk more about her as I know that my friend will obviously read it and it’s hard enough for him I don’t want to make it any harder. I really wish he didn’t read it at all.
It’s What is Not Said
Life is rather elusive yet we live it as if we know all about. In its rather innumerable strangeness lies its beauty and the very reason for the invaluably of life. Life has certain unique ways its chose to be and it has rather solid reasons for it remains so. Who could have thought that what we prefer not to say is much more significant than what we spit out. I have heard people speak in volumes about the importance of saying at times and not saying at times, but what they carefully or carelessly neglect is the significance silence has in ones life as it is. May be that’s because silence is as unattainable as most of the good things in life, they never come easy.
The Little Big Things
![]() |
Okay! That matters too! |
![]() |
The little ones knows much more about little things than us! |