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Tuesday 21 February 2012

A Poem . . . .


A poets rhyme that never rhymes,
a guilt rising after a chain of crimes.
A thought in mind lurking about,
a voice in heart craving to come out.
An un-understandable phrase,
that drives in a lot of praise.
A creative play of thoughts,
that can beautify even moon's blots.
An unbound flight of words,
flying high, higher than birds.
Some kind of unnurtured imagination,
its a person's emotional creation.
A voice from inside our soul,
a direction pointing to our goal.
A substitute of facial expression,
a written account of our emotion.
A justified creation of a crazy mind,
rarely born and hard to find.
Some creepy truth that rises fear,
or incomplete love that brings down tear.
An expression of the cries unheard,
a mental speech of a speechless bird.
A weapon with no explosive,
but a great damage which can give,
no bloodshed, just a hallucination,
which can destroy a whole nation.
The most powerful creation of a human,
which can eat up every devil, every demon.
A tool to make a dead speak,
it takes your emotions to a peak,
this is what I say a poem.
That is why I write 'A Poem' . . . .

Tuesday 14 February 2012

Maurya - The Warrior Emperor . . . .


Chandragupta Maurya
"I am the man, the warrior,
whoever be my enemy I don't care,
disciple of chanakya the great,
having ability to change my fate.
The great king of the history,
my past still a great mistery.
Whenever I stood up with a sword,
I became the death lord.
With flowing blood of a kshatria,
I rose up the empire maurya.
The wind tells my tales,
the emperor who never fails.
The mountains recite my name,
giving a boost to my fame.
I am the man who fought the greeks,
and won the battle within weeks.
I am the king of the kings,
my tales the world sings."
This is what Maurya would have said,
but he sleeping forever on his death bed.
Chandragupta's Teacher - Chanakya(Kautilya)
So, some time of yours I want to lend,
to let you know his start to his end . . . .

A child was born in a mauryan clan,
of khatriyas, to a man, 
with a wife named mora.
The child was Chandragupta Maurya.
To a hunter he was sold,
in history it is told,
there he met kautilya,
a teacher from taxila,
who took him to the school,
and used him as a tool,
for rising a great empire,
which should be like a fire,
capable of burning down,
the expanding greek town.
In takshila he became a warrior,
to his abilities there was no barrier.
Unbeatable that boy became,
uncontrolable, impossble to tame.
A warrior, he was mora's son,
Nanda Dynasty
shining brightly, brighter than sun.
From taxila his quest began,
he became an army of one man,
then he saw the macednian army of Greeks,
and studied closely those mind-freaks,
by becoming a soldier in their camp,
his teacher Chanakya still his only lamp,
after driving away the foreigners from his land,
his conquest began, a target too grand,
of demolishing the Nanda dynasty . . . .

For this he had to destroy that king,
who forced his people to sing,
songs of his greatness, his fake victory,
just to be immortal, always alive in history,
Dhananand was his name,
his character dumb and lame,
a blinded lover of gold,
for which he would have sold,
his motherland, his birthplace,
just a dark mind behind a fair face.
Maurya aspired to kill that king,
to free the people and to bring,
and bring an end to their miseries endless,
but he was all alone, lonely and friendless.
With help of chanakya an army he raised,
Mauryan Dynasty
burning hot and pathetically raged,
determined to make that cruel king cry,
ready to fire up, explode and die.
On lines of macedonia the grew in number,
with a aim to turn magadha into a slumber.
Finally the explosive exploded,
and the whole magadha got raided.
The elephant had a downfall,
the peacock made a victory call.
A great warrior Dhananda had to face,
his palace became his death place.
The reign of nandas came to an end,
and maurya's empire began to ascend.
But his destiny was still too far . . . .

After killing dhanand, he became the king,
and got the most beautiful thing,
The Princess, she was Dhanand's daughter,
the reward he got after that slaughter,
love then touched Maurya's life,
so, Durdhara became his first wife.
But the warrior in him didn't stop,
he wanted to be at the top,
so that his name the whole world sings,
he wanted to be the king of all kings.
Coin Of Mauryan Dynasty
This thirst led him to war,
and his boundaries extended too far,
he had an army so large,
which was now fully ready to charge,
to conquer the valley of indus river,
and to make every enemy shiver.
After owning the valley he took a pause,
improving the empire structure was the cause.
His empire had a time of serenity and peace,
but then Seleucus came to cease,
the indian posessions of Alexander thd great,
but that land was not in his fate,
Chandragupta crushed those selucid greeks,
in no time, within a few weeks,
but Seleucus was not a man to loose,
so war was what Maurya had to choose.
They fought with courage and no fears,
so the war went on for two years.
At last they had to get together,
and sign a treaty with each other.
Seleucus gave the most beloved thing of his life,
to Chandragupta as his wife,
Helen thus became his second queen.
He became the first emperor India had seen,
Chandragupta's Son - Bindusara
his empire grew in size very fast,
the biggest one, with boundaries too vast,
From himalayas to the narmada river,
His name made every king shiver.
After this his quest came to a hault,
this was not at all his fault,
his prime minister instructed him to do so,
said it was now high time to throw,
light to internal matters of his kingdom,
and give some example of his wisdom . . . .

He did as his teacher told him to do,
due to him, Chanakya's dream came true,
a dream to see Indian landmass united,
which ultimately he sighted.
A vast and prosperous empire maurya now had,
but then winds brought a news, which was quite bad.
To meet Maurya arrived a sage from jainist sect,
and told something which had a great effect,
on peace and calm of Chandragupta's mind,
what to do he wasn't able to find.
The sage warned him of a great drought,
twelve years of misery which would have brought.
Bhadrabahu was the name of that sage,
Chandragupta's Grandson - Ashoka
who endured Chandragupta to leave that princely cage.
Abdicting the throne to his son, he left his kingdom,
and so left the king, a warrior full of wisdom,
silently he died by starving himself to death.
The emperor who fought for peaple till last breath,
so died emperor Chandragupta Maurya,
the first unifier of our motherland India . . . .
His glory was carried on by Bindusara his son,
and his kingdom expanded by Ashoka his grandson.
This is how the legend came to an end,
a legend who was a saviour for a friend,
and for a enemy a unbound terror.
For him today I write "MAURYA - THE WARRIOR EMPEROR"



Thursday 9 February 2012

The Directionless Directions . . . .

The confusion of vision,
The thing we say,
The paranoid illusion,
Is showing us the way,
The directionless direction,
To the profound space,
Moving swift without motion,
No more shining face,
No more awkward fashion,
Just a directionless direction,
To the space full of nothing,
With some traces of emotions,
A space where nothing fills everything,
A space within our complex mind,
With some scraps of naked truth,
Large, but somehow hard to find,
Grilled with thought of rising youth,
The directionless direction,
To the space causing everything,
the result of which is this creation,
Which may mean to you nothing...

Saturday 4 February 2012

Dilemma Of Perception . . .



The unknown dilemma of perception,
The in-heroic creed of jurisdiction,
THe unpathetic pathetic works,
Of the inhuman human lurks.
Creepy darkness of the blinded sense,
The boiling heat behind the fence,
The frozen fire in the warrior,
Guilt-free crime rising the fear.
The unknown, unwanted human creation,
Is giving rise to the animated destruction.
Homo-Sapiens busy running the death race,
With no time to admire the infant face,
OF the freedom, with the broken heart,
Stepped upon and torn apart . . . .
The timeless time running past,
The heartless heart beating fast,
Countryside dirt better than townly filth,
Bewaring our minds of its falling health.
Something unpleasant crawling to happen,
So I took out the ink and my pen,
To warn you of the upcoming calamity,
Unnatural, but with great surity,
Which if trigerred will be unstoppable,
Ones executed, will be unbeatable,
A creation of human mind,
To stop it some method we should find.
The unrespected me in us we should awake,
And crash the attitude, the show off just a fake,
Wake up the human, the warrior within,
A new revolution, we have to begin,
To begin this world one new mesaage we need to send,
With this line my rhyme comes to an end . . . .

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