The Golden Chain - Part 1

A forest amidst a golden city

Forlorn, for within the free bounds it held.

A lone soul that had to bide her time.

Around stood the women who marveled.

 

Her composure in her sadness

Graceful, silent, with unbroken resolute

A lone soul that had to bide her time.

Melancholy had numbed the flute.

 

A rich city saw a poor man rule it.

Poor he was not by wealth.

Nor by education in any measure

Save just one act of stealth.

 

Nobility is not by birth as much.

A man’s actions speak loud,

Louder than the whispers of time

Ages after he is trounced.

 

Where did his nobility falter?

A much better king he was.

Immeasurably better than his foe

Pious, committed to his cause.

 

Brothers hailed him as the best.

His sons were in awe.

Progress in science and medicine

Were seamlessly scripted by law.

 

He conquered all the greatest.

Be they demons or God.

His valor knew no bounds.

His brain powering his sword.

 

Success only lasts while it does.

Character holds the fort.

Pride betrays all the knowledge.

That humility holds in port.

 

When ego gets the better of man

His nobility thus withers

Making him an empty shell

Away the knowledge slithers

 

The education all but laid in vain.

His swords went blunt.

The throne lost a maestro,

As the King turned tyrant

  

As is success, so is failure

 Every effort, big or small

Is worth an applause

Every action, tiny or tall

Contributes to the cause

Every moment, short or long

Maketh the memory

Every step, right or wrong

Charters the territory

Every need, genuine or not

Lends to creation

Every learning, given or got

Enhances the passion

Every day, happy or sad

Counts as life

Every person, good or bad

Forms the happening hive

Paternity

 

The mountains beckon

The rivers gurgle in glee
My wanton feet quicken
‘Ere they prepare to flee!

The eyes stealthily pry
For the accidental witness
That could expose my lie - but
None challenged my fitness

The relief within whistled
As the next stone landed
Near where the birds nestled
The mother left her kids stranded

I climbed the mighty tree
The tiny ones in the nest
All but belonged to me
For I had just won my quest

I peeked inside the birds’ home
When a blunt bolt hit from nowhere
I fell, my head a lightless dome
The father bird had a menacing glare!

Mrichchakatika - The origin of rotational leadership as a concept - Act 1

 Mrchchakatika – (The Little Clay Cart) - a ten-act Sanskrit drama attributed to Śūdraka, an ancient playwright who possibly lived in the 5th century CE, and identified by the prologue, as a Kshatriya king and a devotee of Lord Siva. He is believed to have lived for 100 years.

A revolutionary himself Sudraka has deviated from the Natya Shashtra that specifies that dramas should focus on the lives of the nobility. Mrchchakatika, lays emphasis on the life of people including peasants and courtesans. The story is thought to be derived from an earlier work called Cārudatta in Poverty by the playwright Bhāsa, though that work survives only in fragments.

What sets this drama apart is not only the fact that it does not portray nobility, but also its attempt at establishing the fact that nobility does not stem from social conditioning but from virtues and behavior.

Many versions of this story have been presented before, some have been taken out of context and some have been presented in a shallow, contrived manner.

Here’s a poetic adaptation of this great work, which is an attempt to bring out the true essence of the story. Presented in the style of a dance drama, Vasantasena and Charudatta’s story is the story of each one of us living in contemporary times

Act 1 – Charudatta meets Vasantasena

Mysticism surrounds the life of people long gone

We imagine, we recreate so the dead may live on

Stories untold, stories retold, stories remain the bridge

That aid our journey through the past along the ridge

 

Here's one story that may not be new to many

Of people, about their lives, serious and funny

 Lived a glorious dancer named Vasantasena in Ujjaini  

Her feet had the grace of a river her voice was honey  

 

Her dance was a feast for the art connoisseur  

Jewel in the crown was the decorated theatre  

On this day Charudatta chose to witness the dance  

 Maitreya assured him it would take them on a trance  

 

The two friends arrived rather late and the show had begun  

Charudatta persisted, he got lucky through good deeds done  

The son of an aristocratic father, he had given his wealth  

To all those fallen or fabricated sad fate through stealth  

 

His kind gesture to the theatre owner fetched them a seat  

On the stage that witnessed the grace of the dancer's feet  

Even after the men were seated the curtains refused to rise

Gloom engulfed the grace that hitherto held the audience enticed 

 

The music from the flute went silent that moonlit night

Having found its master sick, it lay on the ground in blight

Charudatta instantly picked up the lonely, lovely instrument   

Soon the dancer's feet were tapping to the melody the flute lent    

 

Ujjaini was filled with contentment, it now had a reason to cheer  

Just as the crowd stepped out, their glee was replaced with fear

The roads were blocked by the police, they had to catch the sinner

Charudatta, Maitreya escorted the dancer, their pace getting quicker    

Such is Life

 Such is life - transient in moments, permanent in memory

Such is life - tough to comprehend, easy to complicate

Such is life - evasive to the seeker, apparent to the believer

Such is life - fluid in the heart, folded in the brain!

Inheritance is Polymorphic

Inheritance

Has assumed proportions so dense.

It all began with the invisible DNA,

That defined the class, as they say!

Inheritance

Then became the impregnable fence.

Land in possession became the next object,

Before Kingship got appended to the subject!

Inheritance

Morphed itself yet again, and hence,

The family encapsulated its precious gold,

Inside iron chambers and kept it in tight hold!

Inheritance

Moved beyond the pound and pence.

Abstraction led the way to include codes,

As families were replaced by corporate abodes!

Inheritance 

I feel, may acquire a new sense.

The term may be associated to good health,

As immunity has come to be valued as true wealth!

Inheritance 

Has followed a rhythmic cadence.

And yet, has created many a discord.

This once, let there be harmony, Oh Lord!

Tryst with memory's crest

Perched on a high pedastal
Our lives is anything, but dull
The rains lash on the greens below
While the thunders, in approval, bellow

Sitting atop my humble mansion
I recount the days I had wanton fun
Splashing the firmament's kind blessing
On every passing, overburdened co-being

A wry smile, on my naughty lips floats
As nostalgia recreates my paper boats
Made out of what was held within a book
That was meant to teach us how to cook

We never learnt all that was taught
While in school, we played, we fought
The cruel clutches of life did not spare us
And we learnt our lessons, albeit after a fuss!

The Surreal Sentiment called Motherhood

“Mother,” beckoned the little voice from within her womb

The baby had, but a few more months before it would bloom

“Yes, my child,” she said as she heard her baby’s voice

“Tell me more ‘bout the world, is there too much noise?”

The mother smiled, but assured the child that she would be there

To grow and groom the baby, holding her with love and care

‘Who else would be there along with you, I am curious to know’

She told her baby that motherhood was a boat that many helped to row!

The father put his ears on the mother’s womb so he may hear his child

“I am your father, I shall care for you like no other,” his voice ever so mild!

The baby wondered, “Hmm, so you are also another mother, am I right?”

 “You are right, my love,” said the father, happy and delighted!

The grandparents, were the next to wish the child happiness and glory

And assured it that they would be ready with many a bedtime story!

The child kicked the mother in glee, wanting to see the mothers so many

“There is a little bit of mother in all of them, isn’t it funny!”

“Mother, I cannot see you, but I can feel your presence,

I float in the chamber called womb filled with liquid so dense

I do not know who you are, and yet I feel happy and well

Isn’t it a wonder that I don’t know you, because within you I dwell!”

The mother slowly began to explain to her curious child

“The bond with the creator is indeed strange,” she surmised

And as with motherhood, every life form that exhibits divinity

Brings upon the earth, peace and tranquillity!

It's a battle out there!

Its a battle out there

We lose some we win some

Not of them are fought fair

Some leave us proud, some leave us numb

Its a battle out there

We gain a few as we inch ahead

Victory or defeat, we are left bare

Oftentimes they become life's watershed

Its a battle out there

We meet people then we part

We love, we hate, we take, we share

And when we part it is with a heavy heart

 Its a battle out there

Struggle we must, that’s life

We win more, the more we dare

Lest we are left muddled in a state of trife

Distance, not Distant!

Religion, they say started the divide

Removing men from each others’ side!

The naysayers were not too far away

Racial divide, they said made us pay.

‘Economics’, cried the privileged few

‘Caused the crack’, as money was due!

There were men from the learned lot

Education, is what their pens jot.

The noise grew louder and bolder

As men stood shoulder to shoulder

Only if their views seemed to match

Forming groups, batch after batch.

All until one fine summer day

A small little virus disrupted their way

Forcing them to maintain good distance

Suddenly, no longer were they distant!

The power of 'nna'

I hail from a rather conservative Tambrahm family. As per our culture, we address our husband as ‘Nna', short for anna, or brother. I understand the confusion this causes in the minds of the readers. I strongly urge you to get over it. We may get a logical explanation to this from some kind and informed soul sooner than later.

Our parents bring us up with great emphasis on value and accordingly my father has always told me that which ever family I get to be a part of, I must contribute to its well being and blend with their way of life, while preserving my values. When I got married, I was faced with what can be described as Dharmsankat.

It all began with me having to address my husband for the first time in public and I had to abide by traditional practices. I called my husband ‘Nna' and he was surprised. As with most newly married men, he lacked common sense and tact. He asked me why I called him ‘Nna' suddenly, while in the past couple of months that we had been engaged I had called him by name.

There was pin drop silence!

I stood before the elders of both the families, immeasurably guilty. In situations such as these, where I had trespassed traditional practices in the past, I had pleaded innocence and that had worked. I decided to try the same trick this time around too. I told my husband that ‘Nna' is used to address husband and it is only post marriage I could use it. Since I did not know how to call him before that I had used his name. I managed to maintain innocence in my tone and facial expression that seemed rather natural.

I patted myself for the wonderful performance as the elders nodded in agreement. My father finally spoke. He bragged about how his family called each other strictly by relationship and never by name. As with most tambrahm men, they would end every conversation with a hidden attack on their wife's family. In keeping with this glorious tradition, my father further added that even my mother's side would not address elders by name, though they were generally unaware of the exact name given to each relationship!

Through the corner of my eye I saw my mother taking a mental note of the statement for future reference. Some one from my husband's side spoke next. They were not particularly conservative and hence opined that while I should be allowed to address my husband the way I wanted to when we were alone, I should stick to the traditional ‘Nna' in public.

My father tried objecting to this, but realized that he was outnumbered. My mother chose to remain neutral, her way of taking revenge on my father. I chose to agree with my in-laws, quoting my father's advice on blending with the tradition of the house that we are married into.

It was my husband's turn to speak. He was a natural revolt, often times he would revolt against his own ideas! He declared that I should address him by his name and nothing else. My father looked at me and said that if he heard me call him by name, he would stop talking to me. My husband countered my father's attack. He looked at me firmly and said I was free to choose between the two men.

I was left high and dry! I decided to think calmly. I needed my folks on either side to co-exist. I left the place, but not before uttering what I thought was a clincher. I looked at the gathering before me and said that all fights between daughters-in-law and mothers-in-law had their roots in male ego. So saying I moved away. Soon everyone left, the movie was over. They would have to wait for the next show!

Few hours later, I spotted my father and my husband seated comfortably in front of the television. The memories of the show down that had happened only a few hours earlier seemed to have temporarily vanished. They were discussing the country's economy, thee present day ruling party's inability at containing in-fighting within the party, and similar topics. My mother walked out of the kitchen, and my father immediately lowered the TV volume and made a fake attempt to get up. My mother told him to be seated and gave a cup of tea in his hands. My husband, being new to the game of being married asked my father why he had lowered the TV volume. And my father bit the bait! When your wife is around only her volume should be loud, he said, almost instantly regretting his statement.

He finished the remaining liquid from the glass in a single gulp and went into the kitchen. He had to make amends and that to him was priority number 1. He washed the glass and walked up to my mother. He could not spot a cloth to wipe the glass and tried cleaning it with my mother's hanging part of the pallu. She quickly pulled it away and handed him a towel. As he walked out, she called out to him, ‘Nna'. The tone betrayed her anger as she told him not to play the TV in high volume. It was time for her evening prayers. The TV went into mute mode for the next hour or so. My husband walked up to me and told me he wanted the volume on. This was my chance! I told him to settle my issue with my father as it would become difficult to talk to anyone in the house otherwise. He called my father to the other room and in my presence told my father that he should leave us alone. Before my father could object, he asked my father if he had permitted anyone else to dictate terms to him, especially when it came to issues between him and his wife. My father was clearly outwitted by a younger man, not much different from him.

Reluctantly my father let go. Satisfied at having established peace I left the room. My husband waited to ensure that I was out of ear shot before continuing. Owing to his loud voice I have never been out of earshot.  I heard him tell my father that he thought wisdom lies in allowing your wife to call you by your name, while retaining the freedom to watch TV in high volume, rather than claiming supremacy in the way she addressed you and submitting to her wishes in everything else. To this day my father is a devout disciple of my husband! 

23 years of being married, now a true marriage veteran, I have recently dedicated myself to the cause of re-establishing lost traditions.

The pen that writes from the other end

Not always are survivors the heroes  as we comprehend
And it may take a pen that writes from the other end
To complete the oft heard popular tales with facts so shy
Though they may go unread, or worse, construed as a lie

Most of the wars fought in ancient India are attributed to the female protagonist of the stories. From Sita , whose desire for the magical deer to Paanchali's laughter in the palace, the reason for the wars has always been  ascribed to a woman. But scrape the surface and many an unexplained bone make their appearance.

As the bride of Arjuna – The mighty warrior
I assumed that life would have not a barrier
But my joys lasted only until we reached
The gates of the palace where Kunti unknowingly preached

Yudhistra, in the name of upholding his mother's words, chose to shatter the kshatriya dharma of winning the bride in a swayamvara. This perhaps was the breach of dharma that has never been spoken of! What was more blood curdling was the dictatorial manner in which he drew up a schedule for the five brothers to follow in sharing her.

Alas, no one can predict the ever changing future
And happiness is but a bubble waiting to rupture
Kunti's fervent pleas to spare the girl went unheard
The rest could only direct their prayers heavenward

Any non-compliance in the regard was punished with a 12 year exile! Yes, you read it right. Yudhistra started the culture of sending his brothers on exile, not Duryodhana, as we popularly believe. Aruna, as fate would have it(?)  was the first one to be exiled. It was during his exile that Arjuna learnt the Brahmastra, married Krishna's half-sister, Shubadra and earned the wrath of Urvashi.

Some facts lay burried within a protected cage
To protect a lone man's ego and his endeared image
Does the generation next dare to set them free
If you care to, then just place your ears on any old tree
Unravel the stories that the world is waiting to know
Humanity would liberate itself from morals so low
Do not sell the woman that you vowed to defend
A plea from the pen that writes from the other end!

A Pushed Pawn Becomes Queen!

An erring king sans a mentor,
Has not the power to prevent his downfall
Every being has an unending need
For a course-corrector...

"இடிப்பாரை இல்லாத ஏமரா மன்னன்

கெடுப்பா ரிலானுங் கெடும்."

                                                                   - Thirukkural 448 

The Branded Grave

There came them calling themselves

A new species – ‘The Human Beings’

They did seem to be more intelligent

Than any others that the world was seeing!

They created the huge machines

And made them do wonderful things

They built and destroyed at will

And gifted themselves with incredible wings!

Fighting bitterly with each other at times,

They grouped and re-grouped again and again

None outside knew what went on

And within their walls there was loss and gain!

Gradually, the groups created identities

That defined everything that they used

The group of people were called a class

"How should we call the inanimate?”they mused!

But they never had to think for long

Ideas flooded their bottomless world!

As identities grew, so did their pride

“Brands”, they declared, and flags were unfurled!

They named everything that they owned

Rating these names against countable numbers

Some were rated more, some suffered ill-fate

Hatred grew, men and material were burnt in embers!

Groups were called castes and class

While materials was classified into brands

“Pedigree”, they said was dearer than life

Measuring their ego based on dollars and rands!

Their craving for brands grew and grew

Each man wanted the best even in his grave

Wanting nothing less than a branded adieu

He yearned to be called the classy and the brave!

The rituals during life varied with class

And in death the rule altered  not in the least

Some called it ego, others called it pride

But followed it as much in their fast as in their feast!

Nothing that they used was left unbranded

Except when it came to their final end

Until one day some of them decided

To brand the graveyard, calling it a classy trend!

Agasthya – The power of perseverance

A gurgling sea still looked ferocious. It was a complete deluge. The earth shattered, followed by a huge wave that seemed insatiable. It swallowed the animate and inanimate alike, ruthless and powerful as it was!

A vain and powerful kingdom lay submerged, allowing the sea creatures to feast on the once-all powerful creatures. The tectonic plates had moved causing a huge earthquake that shook the abode of Lord Shiva. There was a huge gathering and people from all over the region had gathered to wish Shiva and Parvati on their wedding day. Mythology has it that since all Gods had gathered at one place causing the colossal upheaval.

“This way!” screamed a voice. Soon a huge crowd followed the voice. Dodging the fire balls that rolled towards it, the crowd valiantly moved ahead. Soon they reached a point where the sea had made major inroads, gulping the greed of men that hitherto thrived in the region.

How were they to cross the watery grave alive? The leader, a tiny-tall man stood firm, holding a pot-like vessel in one hand and a beaded chain in the other. He signaled the crowd to stay calm. Hours passed and slowly the water started to ebb away.

“Once we cross the water and go to the other side, there are plain fertile lands. We can halt there for a few days before deciding what to do next”, he said.        

“Are you sure that the land can take all of us? We should split, lest we burden the land more than it can handle”, a man from the crowd spoke.

“You may be right. We caused this huge loss to mother earth by crowding at the same place. We should learn from our earlier mistakes”, the leader spoke.

He called the man from the crowd and to lead the other faction. People were seen bidding tearful adieus to near and dear ones. Their paths split, forever and somehow, they all knew it, though the words that were spoken conveyed the contrary.

After a few days both factions realized that the split was inevitable as people joined both factions along their way to safer pastures. The first faction of the Velir clan was led by Agasthya, while the second was led by Kashyap. The first faction moved southwards, while the second moved northwards. The entire land form had changed, and the plains were no longer visible. Agasthya was surprised. The earth grew before his eyes and the crowd went into a frenzy.

“Run, the earth is going to swallow us too. Evil forces have joined hands”, shouted a few.

“Death is inevitable. Let us sit and meditate and think of Shiva and Parvati before our lives are taken away”, rued some.

Some refused to move ahead, while some other wanted to go back. Few others egged Agasthya to carry on with those willing to follow him. Take the able men to protect you.

A wise man stood up with support on both sides. “Take the women and children along with you. Let the able men follow. The rest of us will try to keep pace”, he said. The leader agreed and the crowd progressed further, led by Agasthya. His tenacity urged others to follow their persevering leader.

Every now and then he called out to the people, motivating them to follow. He addressed the ever-growing mountain to stop and allow them to progress. Days rolled by, months passed, the old and unfit perished, unable to withstand the hardships. After many months Agasthya reached the top of the Vindhyas.

The crowd that followed cheered him. “Vindham Adakinon, Vaazhga”, they shouted. The climb down was not difficult. By now they had seen many hardships and had moved far away from the initial trauma, though the loss weighed heavily on them. As hey descend, they assimilate the traditions of the local people and begin to thrive. Many interesting stories about the survivors and their lives unfurl to entertain eternity.

One among the many stories is that of Avvaiyar, a poet beyond compare, a guide par excellence and an advisor to Lords and rulers.

As Agasthya survived the arduous journey and appeared victorious atop Vindhyas, crowds on either side cheered him. Once he descended, the local chieftain, a fisherman, wished to give his daughter in marriage to Agasthya. Agasthya married her. Soon they had a son who they named, Perumsagara, meaning the vast sea. True to his name he was wise and sharp. He married the daughter of the local leader and Agasthya named him Bhagwan. The intellect and tenacity of Agasthya had spread far and wide. Meanwhile his wisdom, in the form of stories from the past kept his listeners in rapt attention. He had overcome the language barrier by formulating the language that was destined to unite people far and wide and would be spoken by the generation that followed. 

Many detractors mushroomed from time-to-time, but the power of Agasthya-founded Tamil still stands the test of time. So immensely uniting and emotionally exquisite was his formulation, that its popularity spread far and wide. Bhagwan grew up listening to his grandfather’s story. His penchant to find out the fate of the second faction made him set out on a journey northward. On route he met his wife-to-be, a girl who he named Aadi. Aadi gave birth to a girl child. Not wanting to subject the child to the unknown hardships that she and her husband were embarked on, she left the child in the care of a local learned man.

From her foster father, Avvaiyar learnt about her parent and grandparents and decided to unite people all over the region. 

Her skill at poetry and mastery over the language formulated by her great grandfather Agasthya, helped her achieve her cause.

Ode To The Ruler!

Measured in action
Transparent in dealings
Yielding to no faction
A ruler sans divisive feelings!

No foot in the mouth
Draws clear boundaries
Stretching between North and South
A ruler sans baseless worries

Learns at the edges
Connects every dot
Yearning for no badges
A ruler, not a bigot!

Bends not an inch
Remains equally to all
Tackling issues not cinch
A ruler, not a wax doll!

Touch - The Krishna Concept

I am not sure who Krishna was. But the stories associated with this name reflect the existence of a mature society that sought conceptual clarity. Heres one such story that appeared to be a good bed-time story for kids when I read it first. But it lingered on, revealing layers of a deeper philosophy. 

One day Arjuna walked up to Krishna after performing an act of what seemed like philanthropy to him.

"Krishna, do you agree that I am the greatest philanthropist in the world?"Krishna smiled but said nothing.

Arjuna persisted. What initially seemed like harmless bragging on the part of Arjuna, eventually grew into a war of words between the two. "Come to the empty ground behind the palace before sunrise tomorrow", Krishna ordered.

Arjuna reached the round, by now more out of curiosity than the initial emotion. He saw Krishna leading the way, with Karna trotting behind. When the three of them met Arjuna and Karna were equally surprised. Krishna silently walked ahead, signaling the twosome to follow him. They reached a spot and what lay ahead made Arjuna and Karna gasp. Two huge heaps of precious stones and gems and rare metal welcomed the unsuspecting warriors. 

Finally, Krishna spoke. "Before sunset distribute all of this wealth to needy people. Take one heap each", Krishna was not available to answer any queries! Arjuna realized, albeit a little late that Krishna was still on the previous day's topic. He soon started looking around and called every single person that looked famished and gave away a little portion of the heap. But as he dug into the heap, the heap started growing. Karna found a tree nearby and decided to rest a for while, while Arjuna was busy distributing the wealth. 

By noon Arjuna's little hill had grown to a mountain, while Karna's stood still. It was close to sunset and Arjuna wondered what Karna was going to do. After all, there was very little time left as the great ball of fire was sinking fast into the dusky sky. Karna woke up and walked lazily towards his heap. He looked around and saw two lame people walking towards them. Word had spread about the wealth distribution camp and people were still trickling in to take alms from the noble one that was distributing wealth generously. 

As the lame people approached them, Karna called out to one of them. The man limped towards Karna hesitantly.

"Do you see this heap?"Karna asked him pointing to his heap of wealth. "Yes, my Lord", the lame man said, folding his hands in reverence. "From now on this is yours!" Karna said with very little hesitation. Krishna appeared before the two at that very instant.

Ärjuna", began the Lord, "philanthropy does not mean distributing the wealth among the subjects. When you touch something, it becomes

yours. You gradually start associating with it, nurturing it and as a consequence, it begins to grow on you. When you do not touch something, it does not belong to you. Giving away what does not belong to you is quite simple as you just saw", concluded Krishna.

Karna was about to leave when Krishna continued, "On the contrary, when wealth is distributed wisely, through good governance, prosperity prevails. Each of us has a strength that will become our weakness when the rule of the game changes".

The girls' swirls

SHE was born. SHE stands for She when a girl child is born, transforming into a He after marriage and becoming wE upon the birth of a child. Confused? Then surely you must be a boy or a bigger boy trying to make sense out of this. My sincere suggestion - Don't! Does this ring a bell? Hail comrade! Curious to know more? Wait until you grow up, girl!

SHE in her first phase of life is the daughter - carefree, loving and adorable. She helps her parents around in the odd jobs, fights with her siblings, does what she has to and begins growing roots. As she grows her parents begin to worry more. Their expectation from her begins to increase. The modern-day dialogues have morphed themselves, rather unsuccessfully, to camouflage the regressive mindset.

SHE is told to learn how to cook, followed by a ‘I am not saying this so you may cook and feed your husband and in-laws. I am saying this so you don’t starve!’ – oh, yeah?

SHE does understand the intent behind what she is told, the words fail their master when not backed by the same intent. She may protest, she may resist, but learn she does. She is blessed with a growth mindset, that’s talking on behalf of the majority.

SHE chooses to get married in some cases, while in some others, the choice is not hers. A beautiful, surreal transformation brings out the  He in her. How else does one explain this? It takes lesser than a microsecond for a girl to accept a stranger, maybe in the modern world, a family that she did not grow up in as hers! You don’t believe me? You sure are a boy or a bigger version of that species! It takes you a lifetime to accept the family that you were born in, as yours.

SHE lays in wait to undergo the second transformation to wE. If it does not happen naturally, she does everything within her might to make it happen. And when it does happen, SHe is no longer the She or the He that she was. She becomes the wE giving birth to the SHE. Call it biology, call it psychology. Call it nature, call it life. Her possibilities as a wE always tend to infinity!

SHE swirls, around her many roles, some as She, some as He and the remaining as wE.  SHE swirls – a girl’s swirls to womanhood!

Peace at war!

Peace is elusive, for it is within
Wrapped and concealed like a piece of gold
Black and ugly, tough and hard, it never shines
Until it's scrubbed and cleaned, made pretty to hold!

Years of submergence underground
Rob its sparkling gleam and dull its lustre
As unfounded fear and burdensome thoughts
Keep peace at war, leaving no strength to muster!

Take a step aside, letting thoughts to flow
Within the sandy banks of the powerful mind
Choose the ones that appeal the most to work on
Peace restored, work becomes a pleasure, not a grind!

To unleash peace, you must choose the battle
Then fight it carefully, not losing all your might
For every battle won, urges you to choose your next
Until the dreary war is won, and peace is yours by right!

                     Finding peace in the midst of war or being at war even in times of peace is a choice that the mind makes...

Collect these Nouns

        What did the mother penguin do to discipline her kids?
·        She sent them to a school

Pic. credit: http://static4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20081019155004/muppet/images/a/a4/3091b.jpg

      When the owls wanted to pass a legislature what did they do?
    ·        They went to the Parliament

When the lone cow refused to obey the buffaloes what did they do?
·        They ganged up against him

Pic credit: http://2.bp.blogspot.com

        What did the bats do when they saw a skyscraper being built?
     ·        They moved to the adjacent colony

Pic.credit: http://www.stgeorgeutah.com

                      Why did the ferrets not interfere in the polecats‘fight?
                   ·        Because it was none of their business

Pic.Credit:http://3.bp.blogspot.com