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THE STREET CHILDREN

On the threshold of the empty street, I saw the boys, Hair outgrown,ragged dresses And faces,black with smoke. They laugh,they play Life is but troublesome Still they laugh,they play the innocent ones! I have seen them with Empty jingling plates, Out there on the streeets Begging for money. The poor ones, Make both ends meet They take their lives As a double rolled film I find them  totally different Their worn out, weary faces Their pity looks They don't need our pity looks Not just love and care They too have the right to live, right to learn ,right to come up!                                    

A RE-CREATION

As I lie down on my bed, With a book in my hands There I simply lose myself To the cupid world of sleep. My eyes droop down sluggishly Yet, sleep swiftly arrives in search of me. There are unmaginable dreams, That await me ,when  I just close my eyes. Oh, I wish some were true. But once I wake..... Oh! no.. they vanished.  Alas! I don't remember What I felt! But is there actually  Something better, than a heavy nap, on the wet grass, or the cozy bed, or on the cool floor! Indeed sleep is a re-creation, It is rest,it is peace. Once you come back, You are zealous and lovely!

THE CIRCUS

      THE CIRCUS I saw the tip, A shiny corner of-I don't get it ! But as I budged on further, I saw myself gazing- gazing at those flashy lights, red ,green and blue, Widespread like those moist moss! I glided on towards the lights,where The unveiled rustic walls charmed my eyes, Their dusty corners innoculated With whatsover-spiders,flies and bugs! I gazed,astounded,rooted ,at the Humongous circus tent, My first circus ,yes  the circus! The ether was rushy, Everyone seemed to be swishy, To stir from their spots; All awaiting the circus show. I managed to wriggle around and get through, Get through the enormous tent- All dark inside, tightened at corners! I perceived the susceptibility, Of the earth around;tangled With ropes here and there. That flex of the circus company, Attracted the eyes, As I scanned around, Ornamented with glittering garlands, Colours and those illuminations! As the performers neared, With  zeal, aquired from yore; The

A TRIP TO THE MOON

I f I have a dream, A dream to reach high and high But never low, It would be of reaching the Moon, The ball of Glory The blessing From the Creator to us! It gleams in the dark ocean Above our heads With its friends, Its twinkling friends! I once stepped onto ; The gleaming ball And found the long trenches Or the so called crators! They gave me a fright But then a laugh! I think I travelled by a ship; A sort of ship. And then placed my heels Onto the moon. The glorious ball, Welcomed me as a guest, It showered me with flowers! It waited for me with light! And quenched my thirst, With its new drop of water! I came back , My little head held high, My mind filled with pride Back to the ship; To the Earth. Only to find myself on the floor Laughing my heads off!

NIGHT

The leaves of the mighty trees Awaiting a good sleep, After the loneliness of the day; The turmoil. The birds give their goodnight chirp The mother nurturing the babies; Keeping it safe  under its wings. There the  city closes its eyes The street light turning off The buildings, the power switching off after a bustle of the busy town. Whether  in the small hut or big monsterous houses, The young ones pull up their warmth giving bed sheets, Not missing their goodnight  kiss Hugging their teddy bears Here the world goes to sleep After a day of work and play After a day of weary living The city prepares to close its  eyes. But  I  wonder when God has his round of sleep Or does He ...?

The Windows

There they lie, The two barred, steel windows: With the lock left bare The curtains pulled afar Tied to a knot. The clusters of sludge Hanging on to lintels Giving a rusty semblance. The knocked down pieces of paint, That leaves an orange back drop, With the ants marching off, like Soldiers in an army: Carrying food and eggs The great saviours! The windows, they bring me the ……..faces Of the path of coconut trees And the small hut over Embedded with creepers,and the solitary wall Erect, firm and sure of itself, Making space for the bricks To show off.  The windows! I could sit near them And gape out through. To see the homely earth. The windows! Where everything gluts into everyone’s head, Where every new creation Takes its form, The windows!
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A CHRISTMAS CAROL-Review

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"Marley was dead to begin with.There is no doubt whatever about that.The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman,the undertaker and the chief mourner.Scrooge signed it.And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to.Old Marley was dead as a doornail."      This is the first paragraph of the all time favourite Christmas story of well known British author Charles Dickens-'A Christmas Carol'.A wonderful and meaningful story,I ought to accept!Dickens has once again established his worthiness in my mind ,if he has already done the same in yours,after novels like ' David Copperfield' and 'Oliver Twist'. 'David Copperfield' is his autobiographical novel while 'Oliver Twist' elucidates the plight of  Oliver.But 'A Christmas Carol' is disparate.It is a dexterous story,when the glum old miser Ebenezer Scrooge discovers the world of love and happiness rather than that of money and h