The End.

                                                                        

It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.

When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn
you stretch your arms for your baby in the bed,
I shall say, "Baby is not there!"

- mother, I am going.

I shall become a delicate draught of airand caress you; and I shall be ripples 
u and kiss you again.
in the water when you bathe;
and kiss y
o
In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves
you will hear my whisper in your bed,
ghtning
through the open window into your roo
and my laughter will flash with the l
im.

If you lie awake, thinking of your baby till late into the night,I shall sing to you form the stars, "Sleep, mother, sleep."

e upon your bosom while you sleep.
On the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed,
and l
i
I shall become a dream, and through the little opening
of your eyelids I shall slip into the depths of your sleep;
and when you wake up and look round startled,
 the darkness.

like a twinkling firefly I shall flit out int
oWhen, on the great festival of PUJA,
the neighbours' children come and play about the house,
I shall melt into the music of the flute

and throb in your heart all day
.

Dear suntie will come with your PUJA presents and will ask,
"Where is our baby, sister? Mother you tell her softly,
ul."
"He is in the pupils of my eyes,
he is my body and my s
o

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My Dependence

Rabindernath Tagore.
My Dependence  
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
with warmth and care of my mother
my father , to love, kiss and embrace
wear life happily in all their grace.
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
on my kith and kin, for they all shower
harsh and warm advices, complaints
full wondering ,true and info giants.


I like to be dependent, and so for ever
for my friends, chat and want me near
with domestic,family and romantic tips
colleagues as well , guide me work at risks.


I like to be dependent, and so for ever
for my neighbours too, envy at times
when at my rise of fortune like to hear
my daily steps , easy and odd things too..!!!

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦਾ ਚੰਬਾ .....PASH

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦਾ ਚੰਬਾ ......

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦਾ ਚੰਬਾ ਉੱਡ ਕੇ ਕਿਤੇ ਨਹੀਂ ਜਾਵੇਗਾ

ਐਥੇ ਹੀ ਕਿਤੇ ਉਰੇ ਪਰੇ ਬੰਨਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਘਾਹ ਖੋਤੇਗਾ ,

ਰੁੱਖੀਆਂ ਮਿੱਸੀਆਂ ਰੋਟੀਆਂ ਢੋਇਆ ਕਰੇਗਾ

ਤੇ ਮੈਲੀਆਂ ਚੁੰਨੀਆਂ ਭਿਉਂ ਕੇ

ਲੋਆਂ ਨਾਲ ਲੂਸੇ ਚਿਹਰਿਆਂ ਤੇ ਫੇਰੇਗਾ |

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦਾ ਚੰਬਾ ਉੱਡ ਕੇ ਕਿਤੇ ਨਹੀਂ ਜਾਵੇਗਾ

ਐਥੇ ਹੀ ਕਿਤੇ ਉਰੇ ਪਰੇ ਲੁਕ ਕੇ

ਕੱਲਮ ਕੱਲਿਆਂ ਰੋਇਆ ਕਰੇਗਾ

ਸਰਾਪੇ ਜੋਬਨਾਂ ਦੇ ਮਰਸੀਏ ਗਾਇਆ ਕਰੇਗਾ |

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦੇ ਚੰਬੇ ਨੂੰ ਭੋਰਾ ਵੀ ਖ਼ਬਰ ਨਾ ਹੋਵੇਗੀ

ਅਚਾਨਕ ਕਿਤਿਉਂ ਲੋਹੇ ਦੀਆਂ ਚੁੰਝਾਂ ਦਾ ਜਾਲ

ਉਸ ਜੋਗੇ ਆਸਮਾਨ ਉੱਤੇ ਵਿਛ ਜਾਵੇਗਾ

ਅਤੇ ਲੰਮੀ ਉਡਾਰੀ ਦਾ ਉਹਦਾ ਸੁਫ਼ਨਾ

ਉਹਦੇ ਹਰਨੋਟਿਆਂ ਨੈਣਾਂ ਤੋਂ ਭੈਅ ਖਾਵੇਗਾ |

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦਾ ਚੰਬਾ ਮੁਫ਼ਤ ਹੀ ਪਰੇਸ਼ਾਨ ਹੁੰਦਾ ਹੈ

ਬਾਬਲ ਤਾਂ ਡੋਲੇ ਨੂੰ ਤੋਰ ਕੇ

ਉੱਖੜੇ ਬੂਹੇ ਨੂੰ ਇੱਟਾਂ ਲਵਾਏਗਾ

ਤੇ ਗੁੱਡੀਆਂ ਪਾੜ ਕੇ

ਪਸੀਨੇ ਨਾਲ਼ ਗਲੇ਼ ਹੋਏ ਕੁੜਤੇ ਉੱਤੇ ਟਾਕੀ ਸੰਵਾਏਗਾ

ਜਦੋਂ ਉਹ ਆਪ ਹੀ ਗਲੋਟੀਆਂ ਜਿਉਂ ਕੱਤਿਆ ਜਾਵੇਗਾ

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦੇ ਚੰਬੇ ਨੂੰ ਮੋਹ ਚਰਖੇ ਦਾ ਉੱਕਾ ਨਹੀਂ ਸਤਾਏਗਾ |

ਚਿੜੀਆਂ ਦਾ ਚੰਬਾ ਉੱਡ ਕੇ

ਕਿਸੇ ਵੀ ਦੇਸ ਨਹੀਂ ਜਾਏਗਾ

ਸਾਰੀ ਉਮਰ ਕੰਡ ਚਰੀਆਂ ਦੀ ਹੰਡਾਏਗਾ

ਤੇ ਚਿੱਟੇ ਚਾਦਰੇ ਤੇ ਲੱਗਿਆ

ਉਹਦੀ ਮਾਹਵਾਰੀ ਦਾ ਖੂਨ ਉਸ ਦਾ ਮੂੰਹ ਚਿੜਾਏਗਾ |

Speech- Martin luther King

There are few more well-known or powerful speeches that that given by civil rights leader Martin Luther King on the steps at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. on August 28, 1963.

"I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal." I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today."

Poem- My friend .

My Friend

My friend, I need you now-

Please take me by the hand.

Stand by me in my hour of need,

Take time to understand.

Take my hand, dear friend,

And lead me from this place.

Chase away my doubts and fears,

Wipe the tears from off my face.

Friend, I can't stand alone.

I need your hand to hold,

The warmth of your gentle touch

In my world that's grown so cold.

Please be a friend to me And hold me day by day.

Because with your loving hand in mine,

I know we'll find the way...

POEM- PROGRESS

Matthew Arnold

The Master stood upon the mount, and taught.

He saw a fire in his disciples’ eyes;

‘The old law’, they said, ‘is wholly come to naught!

Behold the new world rise!’

‘Was it’, the Lord then said, ‘with scorn ye saw

The old law observed by Scribes and Pharisees?

I say unto you, see ye keep that law

More faithfully than these!

‘Too hasty heads for ordering worlds, alas!

Think not that I to annul the law have will’d;

No jot, no tittle from the law shall pass,

Till all hath been fulfill’d.’

So Christ said eighteen hundred years ago.

And what then shall be said to those to-day,

Who cry aloud to lay the old world low

To clear the new world’s way?

‘Religious fervours! ardour misapplied!

Hence, hence,’ they cry, ’ye do but keep man blind!

But keep him self-immersed, preoccupied,

And lame the active mind!’

Ah! from the old world let some one answer give:

‘Scorn ye this world, their tears, their inward cares?

I say unto you, see that your souls live

A deeper life than theirs!

‘Say ye: The spirit of man has found new roads,

And we must leave the old faiths, and walk therein?—

Leave then the Cross as ye have left carved gods,

But guard the fire within!

‘Bright, else, and fast the stream of life may roll,

And no man may the other’s hurt behold;

Yet each will have one anguish—his own soul

Which perishes of cold.’

Here let that voice make end; then let a strain,

From a far lonelier distance, like the wind

Be heard, floating through heaven, and fill again

These men’s profoundest mind:

‘Children of men! the unseen Power, whose eye

For ever doth accompany mankind,

Hath looked on no religion scornfully

That men did ever find.

‘Which has not taught weak wills how much they can?

Which has not fall’n on the dry heart like rain?

Which has not cried to sunk, self-weary man:

Thou must be born again!

‘Children of men! not that your age excel

In pride of life the ages of your sires,

But that you think clear, feel deep, bear fruit well,

The Friend of man desires

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Poem- The Slave's Dream.

The Slave's Dream

Beside the ungathered rice he lay, His sickle in his hand; His breast was bare, his matted hair Was buried in the sand. Again, in the mist and shadow of sleep, He saw his Native Land. Wide through the landscape of his dreams The lordly Niger flowed; Beneath the palm-trees on the plain Once more a king he strode; And heard the tinkling caravans Descend the mountain-road. He saw once more his dark-eyed queen Among her children stand; They clasped his neck, they kissed his cheeks, They held him by the hand!— A tear burst from the sleeper's lids And fell into the sand. And then at furious speed he rode Along the Niger's bank; His bridle-reins were golden chains, And, with a martial clank, At each leap he could feel his scabbard of steel Smiting his stallion's flank. Before him, like a blood-red flag, The bright flamingoes flew; From morn till night he followed their flight, O'er plains where the tamarind grew, Till he saw the roofs of Caffre huts, And the ocean rose to view. At night he heard the lion roar, And the hyena scream, And the river-horse, as he crushed the reeds Beside some hidden stream; And it passed, like a glorious roll of drums, Through the triumph of his dream. The forests, with their myriad tongues, Shouted of liberty; And the Blast of the Desert cried aloud, With a voice so wild and free, That he started in his sleep and smiled At their tempestuous glee. He did not feel the driver's whip, Nor the burning heat of day; For Death had illumined the Land of Sleep, And his lifeless body lay A worn-out fetter, that the soul Had broken and thrown away!!!!!!! Caffre == Originally meaning "one of a race inhabiting Kafiristan in Central Asia" possibly from kafara “to be sceptical in religious matters; a name given to certain infidel races by the Mohammedans” it is now a pejorative term to describe a coloured person; synonymous with Kaffir in S. Africa and elsewhere

Poem - mY LoVe

"The Days Were Hilarious,

The nights were beautiful,

when my love was their with me,

i dreamed ' i dreamed just about you ,

i gave up all ' to achieve to you,

i lost my life, my aim, to get you into my life back,

now the days gotta changed,

as the pendulum is not constant,

i lost, i lost, i lost

i lost my love, my peace , my breath & my sleep,

i am lonely , the world looks alike a filth to me,

i am lonely,

i have nothing more to do with my life,

i want, i want , i want her to be back in my life,

i have a hope, i do wait for every minute....!

whether i know she won;t be ........................!! ".

bY--->hInd dHinDsa