Poems n Stories

Life is neither a question Nor an answer— It is a petal Unfolding in stillness, Not by force, But by the quiet Choice we make. Not every breeze Will carry us forward. Not every storm Is meant to be weathered. Yet, amid the chaos, A single act— Of courage, Of love, Of letting go— Can awaken the bloom. Chance dances Like dew on morning leaves— Uncertain, fleeting, Yet full of possibility. And we, Not knowing what the wind brings, Still decide Whether to open, Or close. Life is not a puzzle to be solved, Nor a race to be won. It is a gentle unfolding Of what we already are— A flower becoming fragrance, A soul becoming sky. So don’t seek the final answer. Don’t chase every chance. Instead— Be here, And choose, With wonder, With grace, With gratitude. And let life open Petal by petal, From within.

We enter the hall, the movie begins, With waterfalls roaring and violin strings. The torrents may thunder, the flames may rise, Yet the screen stays calm before our eyes. It holds the flood, it bears the flame, Yet never once does it stake a claim. Joy and sorrow come and go, But the screen remains in silent flow. So too the self, when still and wise, Lets life unfold without disguise. Delight may dance, and grief may sting, Yet nothing clings to the watching being. We learn to rest, not to control, To feel it all, yet stay whole. Rooted deep, we cease to sway— The witness shines through night and day.

Michelangelo was asked how he managed to carve the statue of David out of a huge block of marble.  He explained that he simply visualized David and then carved away everything "that was not David" What are those that do not truly belongs to you?  All that does not stays with you permanently, do not truly belong to you. Your reality will be revealed when you carve away all those that do not truly belongs to you.  A poem They asked the master, calm and wise,   “How did you make this form arise?”   He said, “The shape was always there,   I cut away what shouldn’t dare.” I saw the soul, the lines, the face,   And cleared the stone with measured grace.   What wasn’t David had to go—   Each flake removed, a deeper glow. Now turn within and ask anew:   What truly stays? What flows with you?   What fades with time, what slips, what sways Those things were never yours to raise.   Your truth is car...

  Once, a seeker after doing so many things in his life, started climbing mountains, crossing rivers, and wandering through many places and monestries, in desperation to find peace, happiness, fulfillment, purpose of his life. A wise one watched his face and asked him, "What are you searching for?" "Peace, happiness, fulfillment, purpose of my life" the seeker gasped, exhausted. The wise one smiled. "Sit, HERE and NOW.". No preaching followed.  Reluctantly, the seeker sat. The wind rustled the leaves. A bird sang. The sun warmed their skin.  That stillness wrapped around him like breath returning home. He noticed the gentle rise and fall of breath, the quiet rhythm of his heart. After a while, the seeker cried, “But… I’m not getting anything!” "Exactly," said the wise one. “Now just continue whatever you're doing NOW and HERE.”.  And in that stillness, the seeker finally realized — life wasn’t a thing to be chased and caught, but a moment to ...

Beyond time and space, Deep inside my mind, Lies a spark—a guiding flame, A dream to build, a path to find. Seeing a vision, clear and bright, A world I live in golden light. Every step, is a choice I make, Brick by brick, the dream I shape. Mission calls with steady grace, Action moves at tireless pace. No more waiting, no more doubt, The time is now—I rise, step out. Inspired by the Lyrics of the song "A land so fictitious" by the band Pain of salvation

Within the quiet chambers of the soul, A blueprint forms, a vision taking hold. Not etched in stone, but fluid, soft, and vast, The future self, designed to truly last. I am the architect, with thoughts my clay, Each choice a beam, that strengthens every day. The golden light, a guide in distant haze, Illuminates the winding, nascent maze. No random path, no fate entirely spun, But conscious strokes, beneath a rising sun. With purpose deep, and hands that never cease, I lay the bricks of joy, and inner peace. The past, a foundation, learned from every crack, The present, chisel, shaping what comes back. No waiting now, for skies to clear and bright, I build my world, bathed in my own true light. Each action taken, resolute and bold, A story written, waiting to unfold. The dream made real, from whispers in the mind, The Architect of Self, a path defined.

ஒரு சிறு உரைநடை உரையாடல்:   தந்தை & மகள் இடையே, மாலை நேரத்தில், ஒரு மெளனத்தின் நடுவே: --- தந்தை:   (மெல்ல, சாய்ந்த குரலில்)   கேட்டா சொல்லு.   சொன்னா கேளு. மகள்:   (அதிர்ச்சியுடன் சிரிக்கிறாள்)   அப்பா, இது என்ன புதுசா சொல்றீங்க? தந்தை:   வயதான பிறகு,   நான் என் அனுபவங்களை சுமந்து நடக்கிறேன்.   ஆனா, நீ கேட்டால் மட்டும் தான் நான் சொல்வேன்.   ஏனென்றால்,   நீ கேட்டால் தான் அது உன் தேவையாக இருக்கும். மகள்:   அப்பா…   நான் கேட்காமலிருந்தாலும்நீங்கள் சொல்ல வேண்டாமா? தந்தை:   நீ வளர்ந்து விட்டாய். நீ கேட்காத வரை சொல்ல வேண்டிய கட்டாயமில்லை.  ஒரு கதையை கேட்கும் மனம் இல்லாமல் சொன்னால்,   அது காற்றில் கரைந்து போய்விடும். மகள்:   (மௌனமாக)   அப்பா… நான் கேட்கிறேன்.   நீங்கள் சொல்லுங்கள். தந்தை:   நீ சொன்னால் நான் கேட்பேன்.   அது நான் உன் அறிவின் மீது உள்ள மதிப்பு.   அதே சமயம் நீ என்னிடம் உ...

A young actor, praised for his talent, came to a Zen master. “I’ve played kings and beggars, saints and demons,” he said. “But I still feel hollow when the curtain falls. How can I find truth in what I perform?” The master said nothing. Instead, he lit a lantern and placed it behind a paper screen. The flame flickered, casting soft shadows. “Why hide the flame?” the actor asked. The master replied,   “Because the screen is your stage.   The world does not need to see the fire—only feel its warmth.” The actor stood in silence. The master continued,   “Still be aware you’re on a stage.   What you perform matters—but how you perform is the light the world remembers.” That night, the actor stepped on stage—not to impress, but to illuminate.   And for the first time, the silence after the applause felt full.