Activity apt for Lessons!

       

Activity apt for lessons in education

Strengthens students in all directions.

Children in action show self projection

And they attain themselves  satisfaction.

Learning informal wipes off tension

And oneness feeling comes in this situation.

Problems and barriers find a reduction,

When friends share work in equal division.

Happy appearence expand in multiplication,

The path of learning ends in perfection.

Provide, teachers, apparent suggestion

And contentment they show in remuneration.

When soil of mark system flows in erosion,

Self confidence of students grows in addition.

As plants of grades many stand in erection,

The fright of children moves to subtraction.

The teacher makes meticulous preparation,

That improves the quality of school’s production.

The students gain a development of completion

And all these amount to result good in education.

Tie the children with natives good connection

And, in future, it stands beneficial to our nation.

Become they, in future, citizens pulling attention.

To uphold in full swing harmony and  integration.

Rani’s Granny!

Granny Rani’s, though in nineties,

As in nineteen, swings her body hither-thither,

No matter, upstairs or downstairs,

Acts she as an automobile fast.

Giving instructions to all in front

Revealing all the wrongs of theirs

No matter if position hold they high,

She is sure to  suggest  the right.

The actions, displayed 

By her petite physique, determine not
That her eyes have witnessed
Wonders more than of decades nine.

The skeletal framework, 

Housing her skinny lean body

With wrinkles of past tense

 Guides youngsters with
Gestures of do's and don’ts.

Now the poor granny Rani's

Picking sticks and stones from the ground

Flings them into the nearby pond

And claps she at the ripples formed.

Rejoices with loud laughter

As a babe of four or five,

As has vanished her reminiscence fully,

Alas! Oh! The Alzheimer’s visits her.

Tears flow to Rani's eyes 

When she takes care special for granny;

Follows her where dear goes

To save granny from perils around,

As, the most, she loves her granny.

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/2016/03/poets-united-midweek-motif-ninety.html

Climate Club!

Uncle time has cute wives four,

in climate club  members they're.

“Prettier is me,” each one thinks,

  sweet is each, but one is more.

 The Spring named dame

 has a prettified look

with blooms of various kinds and hues

on all the gorgeous garments hers.

Spreading aroma of her scent

 enters gently in special style

passing a winning smile to all

and exhibiting chic due to pride.

 

Fall for her, the passers-by

as, she bears a smile spellbound.

Keeps she peeps of covert mode

And rejoices at her lovely make.

When she exits, enters Summer 

wearing garbs, high-degree- bright.

Borrows this lass sticks from Sun, 

slaps she Beings, when hinder her way.

Appears Autumn in costume dull, 

yet, she quenches the thirst of Earth.   

 She when goes for slumber long

Coolly Emerges madam winter.

Chilling frame, carries Winter

and makes her presence apparent.

Frowns if she is disgruntled

she will freeze us in her snow.

The Smile that Marched into Minds!

Yes, it is about a heartening hearty smile. That smile marched straight into the minds of whoever came across it. This smile is from none other than the deceased Jishnu. It seems that Yamaraj is determined to populate the other world with cine-celebrities. That may be why he is engaged in transporting souls from the Malayalam movie industry. He doesn’t draw any demarcation lines between young or old or male or female. Some of them are even half-open flowers that have not fully experienced the wide varieties of life patterns here.

It is a fact that many of the cine-world people have sought their abode above and among them, some die young. In fifties or sixties or less than that they choose to leave the stage.  2016 is in fact very cruel to the artists as it has claimed many a life from that industry in particular from Malayalam. Artists from all the categories-actor, director, music director, cinematographer, lyric writer etc. have had their journey for cine-work in the other world.

 Kalpana had started the game. Then the batten was passed on to Shan, ONV and Anandakuttan to name a few. I think the number will exceed the count on our ten fingers. Now the batten lies with Jishnu. Jishnu, the thirty five-year-old had tried to trounce the destiny by his winning smile and commendable confidence. His face was a cute canvass where he displayed everything tinted in smile. Not only that, his fingers helped him pour the magic and miracle lying behind a smile through face book posts. Smile became his watch-word and he dipped his lips always in it. His words coated with smile provided his kith and kin an assurance of survival. His smile directly enters into our hearts which received it with adoration. One who followed his face book post could not believe that he had to bid bye so soon.

The vacuum that he created in his home and among friends cannot be filled with the interaction of any other person. The energy and spirit embedded in his language is no doubt unforgettable. His forever departing disappearance from his parents pulls out a few drops of tears from my eyes as if they say, "Two drops of tears for you,Jishnu." It carves a mark providing an ache and a slightly bleeding wound in my mind also. I am not a relative or a fan of Jishnu and others. Still my fingers chose the key board of my system. May all the souls that left us find a comfortable stay in heaven!

His Dreams Perished or Cherished?

This poem was posted at the initial stages of my blogging.I feel it as a topic to link with poets united, so I repost here.

There lay the lad in tattered clothes
In despair high, with shattered dreams.
Movement was unable with body impaired,
To be on life and limb was hard, as desired.

Despite the ban and barriers from the elders,
Marched forward, he to the battalion of soldiers.
When he found himself in uniform of condition,
Got fulfilled his ‘long cherished ambition’.

Enthralled by the cream of words from his dame,
He felt righteous himself to be a victor in his aim..
Though, great was his hope for meeting the kin,
This server, for his country, had concern very keen.

Excited he was with strength and spirit much,
Result, to the front of war he always had reached.
Fought he very tight, with might in the field,
The foes of stature huge, the country, they fled.

Fearing to save from this youth, their ‘self’,
The attackers had showered big fall of shells.
That unkindly put this very brave in hell,
And went on tolling, the dreadful death- knell.

The death-bird flew down flapping the wings
Making a sound with a feeble hissing noise.
Moments, minutes and hours crawled,
Yet none could notice the lone young corpse.

The demise- bell chimed at the place of birth
Pauperizing the family with no more bread.
Wreaths, flowers and garlands were heaped
Upon his mortal that once stood in heights.

The kin’s sorrows could stop, words of no magic;
Mourning echoed around on the mortal martyr's.
Will  recover from gloom, his lass and parents?
It may ensue barely,but they will bear pride patriotic.


http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/



sarala

Nuptial Dreams!

 

Sat Sangeeta in her chair

with sight and thoughts yonder

started delving into her mind

reached the shore of yore.

Heartily she wove her nuptial dream

in golden threads of jubilation,

she felt like months and years, her days,

as eager much was she for her wedding

 

Sadly! Went everything in vain when

alerted all, the news of an accident

her groom and his kin met with,

ending at the end of his dad’s breath.

 

Haunted her what has happened

as a scene very horrendous

that had, her visage, bathed

with tears of doubt about her bridal.

 

Ago a couple of years or more

eve of the wedding; the crowd,

was dashing from room to room

with tray and tray in hands.

 Snacks and soft drinks were served

to guests, arrived to bless the bride,

no stinginess, but screening splendour,

Alas! A phone call, the serene, spoiled.

 

Awaited she long, for a verdict

of her wedding date, much valued,

to brush off her smearing gloom,

well from her groom's side.

 

Never at all, it happened,

to flourish her nourished dream

instead, its silence stretched,

hinting at intimation nil.

 

Pointing at her bridal entry

as a crucial ill-fate to family

the upshot, from in-laws, bounced,

totally her nuptial dream nipped.

 

Being similar to a grass widow

attention not at all, heeding

to the voice and advice from elders,

 she chose forever, the life of a lone lady. 

Goal of my Soul!

I thought never,

me from a family poor

would reach the heights’ height

with an upshot so bright;

 as lights in a dark flash,

news and news splash.

 

My dream, cherished;

from the very childhood

in life to come out

with flying colours, but

can I with no social stand

achieve the goal of my soul?

 

Impinges upon my mind,

the man who stays in the mansion,

the mansion of size a castle;

wearing expensive apparel,

bearing the identity of his riches

exercising all sorts of powers.

 

A much classy car he drives

amidst his fellow dwellers;

so, strove I so forward

to achieve a good award

in the exam of Civil Services

to obtain a chair from reserves.

 

Always snatched by elites;

Aha! I too hold now delights,

I am a star shimmering now,

glee and gladness of wow

around emit from admirers

that stood always for my success.

 

I dreamt of power and position,

which, I thought, would lift me,

have I attained an identity

among the affluent with equality?

No, one can’t own an identity,

unless from the inner voice it is.