When I thought she would never dance again
In came spring, lifting her depressed dark soul
She no longer felt old; no more drew nothing on
Her spirits lifted, soaring high, she was on a song.
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A Whirled Manifestation
Some random thoughts scribbled over some random coffees, drinks and through my travels.
A Whirled Manifestation
What I have been writing
Who am I !!!
3 comments:
ahan kei likhanai bahut sunder aichi.. hope sa bharal.. mon khus ka dait chai..
Abe aalsi, kuch likko sir 4 line likhne se kya hoga? tum koi rabindranath tagore nahi ho. samjhe?
Buddy.Long ago there lived a king.The king was not born .Born was the baby. Baby bloomed in sense.The baby rocking,frolicking kept on swaing with the wind of time.The baby had nothing to worry for he was a wud be king.But then he had unfortunately had a wing.He had to fly .flying to the skies above for weaving the love the love in mashray,his mashray which he defines. The kings mashray is the kingdom but for the fly in sky the whole land ,the river ,the mountain all needed cover ,his like lover. so the baby realises he has to choose the sky .come and fly its the time high leave your luxury be unfornutae and let the mashray become fortunate of ur wisdom. here is this dreamer in becoming an achiever the kingdom of mashray. I will call him Pushkar.Mashray will wait and be waiter till you make them ur believer.
Mashray= Junta= mass.
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