My youngest mentor

what do I say about my most recent teacher... my youngest mentor. He astonishes me with his every act, impressing me to wonder when did he really master it..in just a few months. Who says only a mother teaches a child, I experience learning more as a mother............... I have grown much more. My child has paved my way..given me a direction... his innocent smiles have taught me how pleasant life is... his mischief has taught me how much fun life is..... his constant persistence to accomplish something has taught me endurance....... his unfailing trials has taught me that there are no failures in life ........ His presence has made me more responsible...His twinkling eyes give me a new insight.... His hugs have taught me how to love unconditionally. He refines me, he burnishes me for, he is my youngest and finest mentor that, I have had so far in my life.

It is often seen and heard that every country has its critics, and most often, they are its very own people whether IN-HOUSE or OUT-HOUSE...... if the critic talks and preaches about responsibility by depicting comparisons with the world....he must go beyond the mere talk and implement actions to bring about the desired change.

Just a perception

when I  look outside my window... I see many cadres of life; some doing better and some bad or if I say worse than my position... if I start comparing I will forget what I really have.... for the one called below my status line might envy me the very same way I would envy the one above my so called status line and who really knows what the high status really has and really wants and really envies what they have not....life may be unfair in its distribution of things to mankind but very fair in giving an individual the balance of his thought and life..just a matter of perception...Today cannot be tomorrow and will never be yesterday but today is ever changing

The Fighter... I salute

In the calm and pleasant morn,
As the sun's first ray touches the horizon,
the leaves are silent, the breeze still;
the dove in the nest is sleeping still,
Suddenly breaks the silence- A shot in the air amid;
The calm atmosphere has turned horrid!
Slowly from within the fog appears a face
That has not had food for days
His eyes are tired, yet intense and alert
His actions are swift though limbs are hurt
His hands are bruised, yet firm on the weapon
Any time, any moment ready to leap on....
He breathes for his country men- many to him unknown
He fights in the war front, yet all alone
With a motto-To protect and never to quit,
he proceeds on and does never retreat.
Life to him, like for others is dear
Still death to him does not arise any fear
A poem on such a theme is easy to write
Yet his life depends on the one move that he makes is right