Drona was a great teacher of archery
He taught it to Pandavas and kauravas
Arjuna was his  favourite disciple
He liked him for his pious principle

Drona promised to make him the best
In any form of archery test
One day A tribal came to Drona
And requested him to teach the craft

The master asked him for his caste
The tribal revealed the fact
Drona told him he would teach only the upper-caste
And leave the place in great haste

The Tribal,Ekalavya, Made an idol of his master
And became an invincible archer
Drona and Arjuna came to the forest
The former considered the tribal was the best

Drona asked for the tribal’s  master
And surprised to find the answer
And demanded his right thumb as a gift
Ekalavya offered it as a token of great respect

A poet should write
Whatever he feels right
Though what he does write
May not always be right

He may write a poor man’s plight
Or a rich man’s air plight
Even the blind poet can write
With his wonderful mind’s sight

The readers do get real delight
When they understand what he does cite
A poet has both insight and foresight
So that the readers can happily recite

My soul becomes spontaneously bright
When I read a fellow poet’s nice write
Creativity is  a poet’s divine might
Which keeps his heart and soul light

A poet may not make a wrong a right
But he can depict what exactly is not right
Poetry is actually meant for soul’s delight
There are many such a great poet on this site

Once a monk lived in a village
A bird excreted on his head
For his fury it fell dead
The monk felt very sad

He went to a house for food
The wife was at her husband’s bed
The monk cried for many a time
The woman came after some time

The sage looked at her with a great rage
She said, ”I am not a bird to be burnt
by your fury. For a wife her husband
is the best jury”. He begged her pardon

She advised the sage to meet
a righteous man at a certain place
The monk was taken aback to  see his face
He was only an ignorant butcher

The butcher said to the monk
“My profession is to sell meat
Which even for my feast I don’t eat
One should do one’s duty”

The monk had a great revelation
Which he hadn’t in a hundred years’ meditation
He learnt to control his angry emotion
And blessed the woman for his salvation

A kind word is
A beautiful bird
It  travels
All over the
World
And fly
As high
As the sky
And touches
Every heart
And the source of
Any art
The
Main
Aspect
Of
Human
part

I am not really understanding
Why they are drinking, smoking
And dancing in the name of
Happy new year
They are forgetting forgetting
What about ugadi and Pongal?
Do they greet one another
During these Indian festivals?
I am not understanding
I am really bored with
The buzzing sounds
Of cells and land phones
They woke me up and
Said, ’wish you a happy new
Year’, at mid-night
I am not understanding
The artificiality
Of happiness
I can’t be happy
Simply because
It is a new year’s day
I will be happy
If there is a need
To be happy
They are neglecting neglecting
Our culture.
I am not really understanding
Why are they smoking,drinking
Dancing and dancing
I am really not understanding