wonder

How I went to recover my trash bin that fell off my hands. It was a feat and the consequences were severe after that.

Writers are never alone, they are their own companion and enjoy their existence thoroughly.I write about a well known writer here as a tribute. He is suffering from painful ailments and his days are numbered.Stoicism runs in the family and there is no place for pity here.

Olden times' tales may sound bizarre, but this is true. This is about the whims and fancies of the people then.

Everything depends on the person you are arguing with.If it is a senior, respect the chair. If it is a junior or an equal, keep your patience. These are not pieces of advice, rather pieces of thought that could help.

The serenity and quietude of Christmas was unknown there. It used to be a rough tumble of picnics and merry making by the people around.

This is just a light hearted account and motivation.A series of explanatins that I put down here.

A simple wedding card with a auspicious silver or golden line will do for me.They are mostly so detailed and flashy. What is there to proclaim? Weddings are not exhibitions.

We have a corner for ourselves to strive,thrive and survive.It is our comfort zone and a veritable location where we can be ourselves.

A poem about the uses of all kinds of sticks.Sticks are great slender structures and so versatile in their uses.

The use of buckets is receding today, yet it is such a lovely commodity.This is only a fun poem, a challenge to kick the bucket. Also some uses of the bucket is mentioned here.

A light hearted account of my identities.They keep increasing with time, receding me to oblivion.

You do feel sorry if you lose a piece of your creation, even if it is something small and trivial. This is a poem about feeling sorry for a painting done by me and then finally coming to terms with the loss.

Now that you have everything to your advantage,you ignore me.But then,wait till I walk right down memory lane and enlighten you about my credentials. A fun poem.

Friendship knows no distance. This is a poem on how we are knotted up in ties of friendship wherever we are.

Striving to strike a balance with between our thoughts and expressions does bring out the best. As we read and write everyday, these notions play in our minds and pave the way for improvement. What I write here is just a version of what we already know.

These were interludes sung in between a play on 'Save Animals.' Each was sung as a parody of some song.

Black is strangely acceptable in spite of its contrasting qualities.A browse into the colour colour black has generated these ideas.

I was reading the calorific value of a banana in an article when memories came sailing in.

It takes all sorts to make the world.Live and let live should be our motto.

I would like to share with you some memories about a rented house I lived in for a month.

Times change, but sweet memories remain. Even long ago characters grow old.

Scientists are ever trying to make new hybrids.Some are successful, some are on the way.

The fruit of labour should be more tangible.The effort spent at an assignment is swept in at a glance. This is a little sad.

The sun is kind to us. It never ceases to shine.The world is turning into a block of concrete, this may obstruct the sky from view.

This is about an ordeal in a hospital we had to face.There was some useless running about done, which could be avoided.