letter-2           

Baba Ramdev- Genuineness?

We don’t know exactly whether Baba’s motive is enticing or encouraging the followers. But in his struggle of the situation,  in the viewer’s eyes he is in the path of unveiling

 the corruption. Corruption has taken strong roots in this soil,  as the big bosses of our country are manuring and nurturing this venomous plant. Even if Baba is not genuine in his mission the time and procedure of arresting him were solely brutal and barbarian. One cannot predict the aftermath of all these exercises. Only the days that will proceed can prove the veracity of all actions.

Sarala

  I used to write letters to editor for a ‘Daily’ which, by the mistake  of mine in timely sending or the lack of standard they expect, did not see the light. These were relevant to the social conditions prevalent at that time. So I thought of posting a few of them in my blog.                  

         Letter-1

       Bahujan Samajvadi Party

 I came across a photograph in the Hindu news paper today (page-10,May 30^th). The picture depicts the fungi of slavery still sticking on Indians’ minds even after six decades of Independence. I really felt ashamed for being myself in the fraternity of  people who stoop down to any level to lick the leg of their leaders. And there are a few with folded hands as if they all were in front of a Godly Idol. The  leader Ms. Mayavati enjoys this drama with a tint of sarcasm on her lips. Ms.Mayawati is indeed  a politician who strives against and tides over adversities. Yet she promotes sycophancy, as she herself  considers that she is above everyone and everything. The party leaders ,may they be X or Y, should come down to the earth and feel the pulse of the common man. Will they work for the motherland instead of  playing ‘musical chair’ that helps them pack pecuniary packets meant for ten or more generations of their successors? Will the leaders scarcely encourage the art of coaxing and buttering? Only then our country can lift her head proudly.

 Sarala

An Ideal Teacher!

An ideal teacher is idle never,

hardly violent and silent ever,

though the heart is even gloomy,

always on her face is glory.

In the soil of growing minds 

sows she knowledge-seeds in time,

unfurls the flag of grand slam

when with victory her pupils bloom.

 

 Grow, her pupils in her holiness,

and dims the sorrows, her own calmness.

Their wards merrily fly in the sky

And the parents hold their heads high,

 

A loving friend of all their colleagues,

a loving mother of the ones, she guides.

The horrendous word ‘quarrel’,

has no road in her mind to travel.

 

Her selfless ‘self’ has fabulous wealth,

a hearty heart for the child she helps.

The saving she has in her account

is her bond with warmth profound.

Children of all ages revere her much

as she is there to clear their hitch.

Heavy-felt subjects turn so light,

by the teacher’s tongue so sweet.

 

‘Great’ is the gift the parents award,

indeed worthier than any reward.

 ‘Honesty’ necklace they manufacture

for her neck that tames them to scholars. 

 

Though her hair in years gets grey,

remains her hand in work, evergreen.

Rays of the smile appearing on the lips,

wipe off the young ones’ all lapses.

 

The voice is quite smooth and soft,

yet very firm and solid and smart.

Never she spares any rod in class,

that may spoil a child, alas!

 

Clouds of troubles in the life of personal,

affect in no way her duty official.

When she opens her safe of experience,

Enjoy she can, her hard work’s price.

Life !

                         LIFE

Life, O!,what are you? Could anyone say?

No, not a single person told it well.

Sometimes, it is smooth and soft

As a  lovely river, running slowly.

But sometimes! It is merely a roar

Pearcing harshly the ear of listener.

For someone life is calm and cool

 And for some others for work, a tool.

Some enjoy it as a soothing breeze,

For some, a lightning burning things on the way.

And for some it is a summer shower

Blooming  the flora in colourful attire.

On some days it is a flood of tears

And some days it is fun and laughter.

Some find it as a dungeon with chains

And some use it as wings to fly freely.

Some feel it as a path to walk for bread

And for  some a treasure for pleasure.

Some people make it a shelter to rest

And some take it as a work spot so vast.

Some build it as a mansion of love,

Some create in it a hell of hatred.

Some turn it as a road tarred to travel

And for some a cocoon for penance.

Some cook it as a dish delicious for eating,

For some it is a chance apt for cheating.

Some change it, for success, into a venture

And some turn it into a matter of adventure.

Some mould it into a ware designed skillfully,

Some destroy it as a glass, into broken pieces.

For some people it is a reason for depression

And for some, a medium of self–expression.

Sometimes it is a mountain to be conquered,

And sometimes a valley to be occupied.

But life is nothing other than all these

And  keeps on, life-wheel, rolling and rolling.

Always out of it, let your ‘self’ make the best,

 And allow never to be covered with rust.

Adopt steps that will lead you to be bold,

Reap you can then cent percent gold.

  

TELECOM SCAM - A WAKE-UP CALL!

India stands on the tip of a volcano which contains Lava of common man’s burning fury. The worshipful crusader Mr. Hasare has just struck a match stick on the box and any time it may grow into a big flame to gulp all the atrocities.. The support expressed by the mass is a paradigm in this entity. The corrupt politicians, the monstrous mafias, the brutal terrorists and all such ruffians and rowdies have kept within their clutches the economy of our country. This economy amounts to countless multiples of the country’s actual currency. Whenever a scam arises, all sorts of actions leading to nothing will crop up and finally, everyone will sleep under hibernation. The election is another white elephant that does not attach any value to honesty and patriotism. Rather money, muscle and community powers pocket the candidature. Ungainly freebies, baseless promises, black cash for votes, special lifts for minorities’, etc. determine the success of candidates. People of the major community are treated as second class citizens here as they exhibit unity not. The malicious rulers and other members of the government make it a point to keep a divide among them at any cost. I don’t say that all the governing people are wicked. Maybe there some members having clean hands which are tightly fastened with the rope of others’ influence and indulgence. So if any scam not only the telecom one precipitates in the country’s affairs. it should be totally uprooted and all the atrocious men should be punished deservingly. All the citizens irrespective of religion or region should abide by the same civil law and enjoy the motherhood of this country equally. Otherwise, a day may dawn when the furious youths will demolish all the illegal palaces erected by the greedy politicians at the sweat of common man. So it is the ripe time all people stood in unity and acted in unison. It is a very humble request to people with a true heart to teach a lesson to the inhuman human beings.


                                                                                                                       Saral

THE CRY IN THE AIR!

       [TSUNAMI]

 Hark! What is that noise we heard?

Is it a mountain’s breaking sound?

Is it the sky that is falling down?

Oh! It is a floating wall that drowns.

It is indeed a dazzling sight,

Water is rising to a coconut’s height.

 Oh! It is Tsunami, the rolls of waves,

Rolls, the mighty ocean’s muscles.

Where are the ones that stood on the shore

Making merry with kith and kin?

God! The harbour waves swept them away

Without leaving any, whether young or old.

Hid in clouds and wept the great Moon,
Ran away stars; wanting not to see the scene.

The ire of water and stormy wind, 

Lashed and hit the things in their way.

Screeches and cries resonated around,

Shrieks and screams echoed everywhere,

Rushing to vehicles  for life found there,

And rays of escape were felt nowhere.

Floods of blood reddened the sand,

Bodies of the dead filled the  full ground,

The beauty of the beach has totally disappeared,

The boundary of the land is wholly submerged.

Look at that old man standing in numb,

What he can do now is just to stump,

With heaviness in heart and tears in eyes

He witnessed sadly his dear ones' loss.

  

Mansions and huts many, men had built,
Money abundantly, he had hoarded,

Reveries and dreams covet, he had cherished
And articles in plenty, he had relished.

Alas! All the items favourite were perished,
And the lives entire, the waves swallowed.
The sand with multi-hued texture vanished
And things found on the shore got deformed.

Siblings of some people faded out of sight,

The sense of some others was lost in fright,

Homeless, foodless and cashless they turned

And waited in vain for the dear ones to return.

Fear and panic silenced the surroundings,

Arising questions in the minds of survivors.

Temples and churches dissolved in water,

And mosques also escaped not, they did wither.

What is the meaning of fighting for wealth?

Your might and money will in no way help,

Power and position will never give you a lift,

When you fall into the ditch of death.

Obstacles ample may hinder you easily,

Spectacles of far sight may save you really,

This life in fact is a God-given gift,

Use it fruitfully, before, a dearth, it comes to.

                                                         Sarala

Mother India Today!

 India , my mother is indeed wonderful
With full of breeze and splashing wind.
Hills and mountains of height very high

Guard her glamour without any harm.

Water sacred of Rivers, springs and seas
Prospers trees and bushes for her safety.
Scents of flowers and fruits everywhere spread
And please my mother’s children entire..

Gandhi,her great son had a great dream,
A dream filled with complete freedom.
Are we in truth independent?
O! Mother, we have free will nil.

Stand the rulers for their own policy
Carrying in carrier not any principle.
With currencies of corruptions in the pockets,
Dip they  their lip in lies and liquors.

Country remains no more of villagers,
Just it belongs to cruel villains.
Seeds of terrorism grow here fast,
Bombs in abundance fall here and blast.

Extremism waters the rivalry plants,
Creating covert havoc in places.
Lives of thousands leave this planet,
Wives of thousands lose their plans.

Little children with empty stomach
Wander here for food and bread.
Children rich from palatial abodes
Throw their eatables in ditches and drains.

Children’s celebration day in India
Pleases only the young of Haves.
The little sons of penniless ones
Stretch their hands for a coin in vain.

Vehicles costing lakhs and crores
Comfort the weights in silks and jewels
Bikes and cars carry the young in jeans
And lose they their sense even from teens.

Play their part well, drinks and Narcotics
And cheer youths’ minds in discotheque.
Looting and killing are the hobbies of the day
Shooting and stabbing follow on the way.

Steeling and pick pocketing travel in bus,
Snatching gold chain occurs at boarding.
Contagious ailments are the guests in slums,…….
The dwellers of this place, a lot, suffer.

Dollars, doctors though earn in millions
discard the destitute in  utter despair.
Flags of religions are hung on regions,
But flag of Nation burns in dejection.

Not a drop of courtesy we see,
Nor a ray of unity we feel.
Wickedness fills the heart of persons,
 And deception thrills the thoughts of people.

Where is ‘Ramrajya’ protecting rights,
A country devoid of terrible fights?
Sky-reaching preaching often we hear,
Practicing a bit, we don’t see at hand.

Still mother, you have sons a lot,
Who have attractive laurels brought
In fields of all kinds, like Science and fine arts,
And many spiritual and cultural acts.

The lining silver of cloud is very thin,
Mother, you weep with much deep pain.
May your children wipe fully your stain
And pray let us for the best to happen!

JAI HIND!
                                               Saral