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Mahamudur Rashid Torsure of Husband's Suffering

Husband torture

Family & Relationships
English
8299 Words
Ages 16 and up
49
0

Husband torture Episode 1 2 3 4 5 At 4.42 in the morning. Thain's lifeless body is lying unconscious on one side of the fence. Unable to bear the torture of the ventricle all night, he became unconscious at once. There is no frown on that side of the ventricle. will stay or how he finished his work and fell into a deep sleep. On the first night of the wedding, Nilay could jump on him like a wild animal. It was as if it was beyond imagination and beyond. But Mrs Tanima did not hand over her only daughter to such a boy. She is an honest, responsible person. He handed over his daughter to a handsome, humble boy, who took the responsibility of fulfilling his daughter's dream and keeping her happy from Tanima with a smile. then how could Nilay do that? Niloy Chowdhury is one of the famous businessmen of the city. there is no one to speak for you. suddenly he loses his family in an accident .son of Tanima's childhood friend. Tanima agreed to the proposal. This did not agree with it. After a while, when I regained consciousness, I opened my eyes a little and felt as if my whole body was asleep. I couldn't get up. Tears flowed. How did Nilay jump on his wife like a rapist? Can't think of that .? Moment is wanting to kill by pressing the pillow. If it was not wrong to kill, he would have killed. It seemed ridiculous to most of the people in society. then a rapist with a face is less. but he doesn't have the strength to kill. I got up from the bed and stepped towards the washroom. I don't have the minimum strength to walk. Then I somehow went to the washroom. I left the shower and left my throat and started crying. The sound became louder when he saw the scars on the animal's name. If you shout a hundred times, no one will be able to hear this cry. Going. After about 1 hour, he came out of the washroom. Nilay then fell asleep. He came out of the room, found the prayer room, performed ablution and performed the prayers. He recited the Holy Quran with his hands and kissed it Dil. He raised his hands in the court of Allah and shed tears. It is the only place of peace in the world. where all the sorrows and griefs of the mind can be removed Meanwhile, Nilay wakes up and realizes that Tahin is not by his side. The whole body seems to be burning with anger at not seeing Tahin. Another thought filled his mind. He left the room with a t-shirt on. Seeing Tahin going down the stairs, Tahin is lying on the sofa with his eyes closed. This time Nilay left the hop and went to the kitchen. He went to the kitchen and brought a bucket of water and threw it on Tahin. It will continue Husband torture Episode: 2 Nilay went to the kitchen and brought a bucket of water and threw it on Tahin. Tahin screamed in panic and stood up. his whole body was wet. Suddenly he could not imagine that the ventricle would do such a thing. There is nothing human in him. There is nothing to do with the water in winter. He wants to slap the ventricle in anger. He understood what it was like to pour a bucket of water on his head. He stopped his anger by thinking about his mother taking one step towards the ventricles. The anger at the tip of Tahin's nose was a little too much which is why Tanima always told him.don’t indulge in anger. because anger comes from the devil. so don’t do anything on the head of anger. which leads to bad results. Then let out a tear and said to Nilay, Why are you doing this to me.? What are you punishing? When the word rang in his ear, a shadow of anger appeared on his face. with a smile of contempt. Where did I do, I just woke up Maharani. It all started, I don't know if there is something called breakfast in the morning. I want breakfast in 5 minutes. The ventricle throws the bucket from the hand to the floor. The bottle breaks and breaks into pieces. This gets up in fear. Tahin went to the kitchen wet without changing. shivering in winter, then Nilay did not let him change. he could not find anything but the noodles at hand. 10-15 minutes to make noodles So it will take, never in 5 minutes .. then tried to cook very fast with the shivering body. new in this house. It will take a while to get acquainted with everything. before Nilay used to do everything. but one day before the wedding Nilay said goodbye to everyone. Nilay is ready and has not come down yet, I got some more time for that. After a while, I heard Nilayer's voice and quickly put the bowl full of noodles and copy on the table. Nilay smiled and talked to someone on mobile When he saw Tahin, he stopped smiling, put his mobile on the drawing table, took the bowl of noodles in his hand, put a spoon in his mouth and threw it on the floor along with the bowl. He threw her on the floor. Tahin slipped in fear, Niloy got up from the chair and grabbed Tahin's hair. You didn't do it on purpose, You are taking revenge on me.? No words are coming out of Tahin's mouth. only tears are flowing from his eyes. This doesn't know how to cook. he used to learn cookin [more]

Keywords: It's a very painful memories for husband wife., Husband torture event written by Mahamudur Rashid

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Nigel Carrington Ant Hill

The Anthology

Comics & Graphic Novels
English
2 Words
Ages 14 and up
2798
10

Nigel Carrington is a self-taught Trinidadian writer and artist currently residing in Rochester, NY. Nigel has been spinning tales since he was seven years old, fueled by the work of artists like Jim Lee, Todd McFarlane, Manga artist Katsuhiro Otomo and countless hours of Sci Fi and Japanese Anime movies he created the Starr Skills Studios Universe which comprise of Ant hill, G.U.N and The Ananci. Nigel came to the United States in the year 2001 with a strong desire to become a Comic Book Artist. Being that this is “the land of opportunity” he decided to make one for himself by presenting his work to the offices of Marvel Comics in Manhattan NY . He met with one of Marvel’s Editors and was given test assignments which included Spider -man, Dare Devil and The Hulk. The Editor was impressed by his work and it gave Nigel an increase in confidence, but nonetheless Nigel had to maintain a more steadier income aside from free lance . In the following years of working a regular job he returned to his true passion, doing so by giving life to the characters he created as a child and the rest is history in the making. Nigel worked on a back-up story for the Terror of the Midnight Robber #2 when he lived in his home country of Trinidad and has self published other works including Truth Amongst the Bones, Ananci, G.U.N., and the Ant Hill series. You can see Nigel’s work and get more information on his upcoming projects by staying posted on this web site. www.anthillcomic.com Creating Ant Hill by Nigel Carrington The year was 1999 when the journey began. I can't remember the exact sequence of events, but it was around that time I just discovered my brand new love for Comic Books and created Ant Hill while living in my home Country of Trinidad. I discovered Comic Books during the Image Comic movement. If you are not familiar with the Image Comic movement of the early nineties, just Google it. My brother Nicholas was the first one to introduce me the medium and he found out about it from his friends Jerome and Joel Griffth. Back then we all had our comic book titles we would collect from Image Comics. Nicholas collected The Maxx, Joel collected Savage Dragon, Jerome bounce in between titles and I collected Spawn.Being aspiring comic book artists, we decided to make our own comic book company called Cape Comics. Much like the bigger companies we looked up to we planned for our debut publication to be a collaboration book called Sign it was a black and white book that would be printed on eigth and a half by eleven size paper folded and staple by the creators, a simple formula for self publication .The plan was stories by Nicholas and Joel would be featured in the first issue then me and Jerome in the following . So I started looking for inspiration for a cool story that would introduce me to the world, which came to me one hungry and exasuting day after working my regular nine to five job. I arrived home with the intention of eatting some left overs but instead I got a plate of rice , ants and chicken. Being upset I stuck the plate in the microwave and took the ants for a ride. It killed the ants, but the ingredients remained the same. Being hungry I still ate the food reguardless.Anyways a couple of days later while remembering my ants episode it came to me : what if I made the best Ant character ever ? Then in the following days leading up to my story for Sign I modifed it into a space saga after talking to my friend Morillo about the idea. He said to me that he was getting a "vision" of the charcter in space with other ants. The pieces of the puzzle started to come together, so I created my first Comic Book. I never got chance to publish it because " Sign" only had one publication so the story was shelved temporary. Fast forward into the future twelve years later. I was searching for a comic book title that I thought would make a good book. After creating a comic book called Gun that had mixed reviews, I tapped out of ideas. I revisited my old childhood creation, and started penciling the pages for an Anthill reboot. At first I was hesitant to work on the character because of all the other ant characters I learnt about (which I beleave was some how inspired by my submissions to these main stream companies) but they can't beat the original .Now the original book I did was still back home in Trinidad, so I totally forgot what I had planned for the story or main character. All I remembered is that he had cool long attenas something like Spawns Cape. So once again I started thinking of an idea that I thought would make a good story. I started grabbing for situation that affected me most in my life. At the time my cousin Fhoalan had pass away from sickle cell anemia he had fought with all his might. He was such a cheery soul that no one would ever imagine the pain he most had suffered.Then somewhere in my mind it clicked. Fhaolan's life kinda mirrored what I wanted my main charaters life in the story to be. A person that had so much pain every time he charges into the hero that everyone admired they would never know the pain he suffered because he would never let it show.That was one of the first changes I made to the story.My Aunt Jennifer who also died of cancer became his mother and Fhoalan's dad (who is still alive and well) Uncle Robert became his dad Rob etc.. Then some of my other past acquaintances, storylines and charaters I tied it into the Ant Hill books and made a cliff hanger saga and so Ant Hill was born. Life after creating Ant Hill issue number one has not change that much not like I invisioned it would. Everytime I create a book I see it as if it would make a good Movie script, not just a good comic book. Lately I started writing more than I am drawing when I produce a book. At my very first free comic book day show In Rochester NY I was talking to James Clauney (a local comic book Artist and creator of Amildillo ) and he give me some wise advise. He said "Nigel I started writing more before I even pick up a pencil to draw because sometimes as artists we tend to draw more than we write and that's what seperate a comic artist from a comic "book" artist. A bomic book artist now means a whole lot more to me now than it did in my humble beginings in Trinidad. Even more so being a Independant comic book artist, I take a script and turn it into visual image that you can follow in a series of stories. For Independent Artist like my self that do the majority of the work and don't get the props for the dedication we have to the craft like the "so call celebrity artist" do, it had me thinking.Should I continue this journey I started so long ago, the journey that has my fans cheering me on or should I give up like some others that tried before me .Come what may the journey up lifes ant hill contiues for us none quiters. When I Rebooted Ant Hill I made a promises to my self that I know my lord and savior Jesus will bring to fruition. Thanks to everyone who had accompanied me on the journey. Don't matter how big or small some your contribution was, I appreicate you. I want to thank all the comic book stores that support my books my family and friends, and thank you esspecially for picking up this book and reading this section. I hope you enjoyed it.I would like from you ,so please feel free to email me at: antfarm@athillcomic.com or via face book and twitter @ nigelcarrington Thanks and untill the next time I hope you will take this journey to the next volume or the next ish with me. [more]

Keywords: Independent Comic Book, Starr Skills Studios, Nigel Carrington, Ant, Ant Hill, Comic Book, Comic Books, New Books, New book

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Original:Perugu.Ramakrishna Flemingo

Translation:Jagadhaatri

Poetry
English
3399 Words
No Age Recommendation
670
3

FLEMINGO..(lONG POEM ON MIGRATED BIRDS) Time is infinite Time is a canoe Time is a winged dove Time is desert silence Time is the rumble of the oceans Time is the showering rain droplet It is the tremor of the heart Time is the lingo of history Time is an eternal test A non stop journey is time A ceased path is time Time is life Time is a flow Time is death Time is the opportune right Time is a tide Time is the breath Time is invisible Time is tangible Time is a scene of beauty The breath of an atom is time The tune of an iota is time Time is the play of life and death Time is the envoy of peace and terror There is no shore that the time has not touched And no ray of light untouched by time Time is the manifestation of the ancient Brahman The modern interpretation of duty is time Time is earthly and heaven Time is eternal Time is the river of life Life is a journey In the stream of time! (2) Journey Is a feature of instability The flow A lively spirit Flower voyages Pollinated From flower to flower The bird travels As love From shore to shore As a lineage Procreation Is the maternal instinct And desire for procreation Is the essence of the expansion of the soul Copulation Is it only pertaining to the man alone? Justice in creation Flourishes in plural Many rain droplets do make a rain Umpteen leaves do make a tree Millions of cells do make one creation Loneliness is not the trait of the world Embossing fetus in the ovum The bird blows the warmth of breath The cosmic universe is Perceived in totality by the inner eye (3) Every move is a journey Every death is a journey Every birth is a voyage Flight is the winning spirit of the migrating birds The effort of the ocean of love Is to procreate As the oceans run With the feet of waves As the air flows In wavy winds As life continues With the unending breaths As the world rounds in Non stop news In wings and wings Do fly and arrive these birds The creatures with passion and patience Thousands of kilometers of restless journey To the destination afar In search of wonderlands A partly witness of the Irrepressible instinct The soaring birds flying Like hunks of the rainbow Like the seven colored sankranthi(pongal rangoli) The flowing sea of the bird flock Floats on the treasures of the blue oceans The jingling song of the migrating birds Is a travel A stopover A sojourn A libido All are the traces of the moving time…. (4) The bird is the Infinite freedom with sprouted wings The eyes filled with a fear And a shiver As the soldier of the border forces The bird is a being, all time alert Onlooker with a quest It is the bird that Smears a mosaic of colors To the ends of the wings And tips of the tails The bird is the one Which casts net and Catches hold of the Jet velocity And the splendor of winds In the moment of hunger It is the bird that Surgically operates the available food And feeds on it as a fork Welcoming a dawn The bird is the Wake up call To the society Crossing a cold night Slivering the foggy morn With its beak Flying fast with its legs apart Runs the bird in prey hunt Testing the air contaminated From the farthest branch Of a tall tree It is the bird that removes the pollution On a sunny afternoon On a choicest water meadow It is the bird that Jumps and thumps And somersaults Playing water khabaddi Fluttering the body Dries its wings Measuring the distance of thousands of miles It is the migrating bird That carries The history of the other side of the world To the culture this side And the race of that land To this generation here The bird is the flying goddess of passion A flying message of peace Completing the journeys By the twilight of dusk Gathering near the tree It is the bird that gets ready for a chorus concert It is the bird that reflects The mynahs of poesy Gandharvas (divine singers) of music And the doyens of music Hunger, sleep, love, and passion Are similar to all the living beings Between birth and death Birds too have relations They are not promiscuous Birds too have a social life They do not know social betrayal The bird that unfolds its broad wings of vast feels Seldom knows selfishness It does not contract with narrow mindedness To the lady bird That sits over in hatching With all balance and patience The snacks of Pulicot Brought tucked in the bags beneath its nose Is fed in pecks and perks by the male The bird is beyond jealousy and hatred To the villagers who saved it from Any one shooting a bullet The bird as a good Samaritan in ardent gratitude, Makes the land fertile with its drops Gifting a three times crop and leaves the land The bird must be a role model for the man..!! For sincerity and commitment And discipline. (5) Exodus is an unending journey Migration an age old fete When the hues of life’s backdrop change Exodus is a weapon When the clouds anger Making scarce a droplet of rain The village turns an exodus To the anna datha (farmer) The farmer’s life turns a coolie Exodus transports a generation Exodus changes the way of life At times migration in life Encircles as a whirl pool At times drowns as a typhoon It makes you travel out to the continents For the sake of the tiny belly There is no race and no religion The hunger’s language is universal It may sojourn over anywhere Will make you do anything Stretches its hand until the belly is filled From a dark continent On to the dais of light From an icy country To the warm place Builds the bridge of the seasons (6) The pelicans moving on the wings of time The flamingos that ram in the air car The Painted storks flown in like kites Fluttering on the Konkanai Sails of the waves are the black cranes As the ambassadors of many countries Have taken part in the international conference The nature is all over colorful messages of love All the festivals of love of the bird tourists Are happily celebrated by the youth On all the branches of the land are the happy resorts In whichever village lost is the eye It is the hustle of the moving colorful dreams Are the goods of the empires of Manmadha(god of love) The secrets of Mithuna rasi(Zodiac sign pertaining to love) The hundred puzzles of the colorful flying boats All over the Pulicot lake is the congregation of romantic heroes All over the sky of Pulicot are the airs of emotions Each bird is a hoisted flag of poesy The colorful parrot is a short poem of dreams The dark legged crane that has soiled its feet in the dirt of darkness Washes them in the blue Pulicot The myriad colored sea-parrot Dives into the waters as the water drawing pulley Alone a great sage Stands on single foot in penance When in the shades of waters narayani(heron) appears He chants the manthra of gutakayaswaha(i.e. to swallow it) Folding its wings to the sides of time Gudaswami(the paddy bird or pond heron) Takes thrice a dip in the Pulitheertham(name of a place) As if thousands of women Are stilled as a picture In the postures of classical Indian dances On the dais are the postures of the imitating flamingos The everlasting fight of the usurpers for the water treasure And for the enticing damsels As if the Nelapattu has blown the snake charm Every now and then they journey to the home Naughty kids being the waves, Floating are the winged boats The structure that has turned The Pralaya Kaveri(stormy Kaveri) Into pranaya Saveri(lovable Saveri(a raga)) In the radiant jugalbandi of the jalatharangini Is the passionate shower of dazzling ragas As soon as it dawns in Pulicot Spreading the colorful carpet Entwining the hues of spring and winter Flows as a soaring garden of blooms Watering the mouth of the awaiting sea. (7) The bird guests under the boundless skies Are the messiahs of universal brotherhood The romantic tales carried over by the great poets The Manmadhas(gods of love) who well knew the secrets of love Lovers they are, who have left their family and place With an ardent desire to beget off springs Though in the size of a seed, but vast are their hearts Their eyes are like lamps without wicks To spread light is their message To perceive life is their philosophy Life is a penance Life is radiance Life is a dawn Life is providence Life a tune of the creation From generation to generation pervades life From earth to heaven is the debate of puranas Life is an eternal stream of time! The birds are the flags hoisted by the King of time!! (8) There – On each branch is a concert In each nestle, a sonata Every tree a cluster of myriad hues A bird fete all over the lands Chirps and tickles Coos and laughs Many a confluences of umpteen springs of ragas Many a sum of joy With the exciting songs of the round eyed ones The climate is delighted In the highways of power filled skies A colorful dream unfolds The milky-way Turns a rosy hued stream In the time of saran navarathri Saphari Theerdham(name of a place) Relaxes in the conference of arts The banjara(wagabond) birds that have come Croon the songs of coos They spread out the treasure troves of love Onto the nest of the worlds To the noises of the love making birds All the stars peer down to the earth The ways of love of the romantic hearts Breathe out the passions in loneliness Stretching his hands of rays, sun of the dawn Applies henna in stealth Unfolding the doors of their hearts The blooms color themselves in serenity Color is the manifestation of spirit of life! The lands that were not greeted till the day before Today are, the life of the birds summit The trees that were faded till the day before Are today the strings played veenas Thousands of flute songs of Krishna Now the morns of Nelapattu Are the wavy streams of sweet melodies Now the evenings of Nelapattu Are the springs of songs of the elixir of love A pelican tucks in its lover Into the nestle of its wings A painted stork nearing it Woos its beloved with its long snout The sabari crane in the tune of passion Loses himself to the sweet song of its lady love Turning its body into breath the wood pecker Smears all over the body of its heart throb Not only the floods of milky bosoms But the ardor of sperm too flows In the great yagna of the Santhana Lakshmi(the goddess of children) Millions of lives are dawned (9) Not only the Devakakulu But all the birds are the ancient kith and kin! All our visiting birds are Manvanthara purandharas!(the age old lords of Heaven) We assume the Bulbul to be an alien When have we seen it as a peace monger? We feel the blind crane as the evil spirit Have we ever counted it as the Charioteer of virtue? Though the python is black in color It is as good hearted as the dark lord (Lord Krishna) All the beautiful dances of the red breast are The festoons of light of the happy family ways In the life rituals of the branches Pour in the fuel of lively smiles In the bright journey of procreation, both the branches Ignite the lights of new radiances Numerous tales of love, umpteen loves Each branch is the cottage of Vathsayana(the author of Kama Sutra) Every nestle is a sound of music No creation, no rains, no destruction No progress of the world is possible without the family life Children are to the man, seeds of time And the ovum is the radiance of dynamism for the bird From the seed the tree and from the tree the seed Is the first step to the world’s progress To the yagna(ritual sacrifice) of the migrating birds The flourishing Kadapa tree is the dais The tree is the green flag hoisted by the nature The tree is the comfort to the exhausted mankind To the alien birds that crossed the oceans The tree is the temple of conjugal bliss To the on spreading bird dynasties The tree is the temple of the secret of creation (10) Time is always an open book All are open truths that are snuggled into it Time is a teacher that seldom taught anything to anyone Time is the emissary that tells every one everything The foreign birds are the prophets of yoga of life They are the bosom friends that do not know the hatreds of the borders They are the alien yogis that do not have lust They are the enlightened ones that have seen the secret of the kala chakra(the cycle of time) Greets in the universal lingo, and ecstasies They are well cultured ones that conduct unity camps Holy souls overflow in joy To the emigrant flock with the touch of this land In the lush green shade Appear the dreams of morrow’s generation That’s why I say bird is the indication of time It is the symphony of the past, present and future The holy fire of confluence is the endorsement of trikala tantra Bird loves a bird Soul copulates with the soul Nelapattu is the dais of the perseverance of Poundarika Nelapattu is the indication of age old yagas The sowing of seeds of life from generations Nature is the balancing measure here It is here that nature takes another breath And here the world gives birth to another creation This little land after crossing over the oceans Is a living home for a race It is a pillow of the joys and sorrows Where the dharma of Buddha has excelled It is the stage of dance for the danseuse Rathi Devi(wife of kamadeva, the lord of love) That knew the mystic tune or the tune of mysticism It’s the moment that seeks the justification of the soul Having understood the inevitability of the mortal body Forgetting the body pleasure, and pleasure of the body Manmadha becomes a passionate yogi here It’s the nature that fulfils it’s duty on this land Turning to be a man, it furthers the creation Congregation of birds that have no disparities An egalitarian equality The fragrance of passion to the ones who open eyes And to the eyes closed sages The liberation of the soul Time, changing colors as seasons For a minute, ecstasies as birds It’s here that begins an end To the time infinite The foundation is laid here From the end to the endless (11) Flamingo offers with love to its lady The bedisa(silver fish) that it brings with its nose How much it longs for its lover When it succeeds to fly in whirls Catching the vanjaram(the scomber or the seer -fish )in the net of its nose Fluttering its wings dreams of off springs Who must have taught so many tunes to these birds? How was such passion adorned to these round eyed ones? Which bird was that have shown way to this place? That results every year in this compulsory family fair The ecstasy of life in the foreyard of Nelapattu Wings sprout to the nestlings The tiny fish school, become their food grains Pulicot is the field of water crop The tiny shrimp is the fruit of the crop Fluttering its wings the blue flamingo Hounds the snake fish The crooked nose lakumuki(king fisher) bird Chase the mattagidasa(the sucking fish, called the Echeneis)) Having shattered the line of the girasa(short) fish The baby paraja(Rasica) crow feels joyous The sky seems congested To the nestlings that got wings The blue lake is the food store To the red breast that has learnt to fly In the battle for food To the shouts of hunger and The dance of the Bharatha(Titlark or Pippit called in Dakhini Chendul)) bird Searching for prey Bulbul is the food Hunger is the age old enemy to all the living beings To gratify hunger is peace for any being Even the gods of heaven savor elixir in hunger When big fish is swallowing the small ones Why is it wrong if birds feed on fish? As if the rainbows had bathed As the Apsaras (divine courtesans of the heaven)cast their charms Festival of colors on the waves of Pulicot A divine game of the baby sparrows The water meadow filled with children Looks like a conference of joy and gay In the eyes of the bird watchers Reflects a kaleidoscope of colors From Nelapattu to Pulicot This bird festival Flows like a stream of water colors The celebration reaches the skies Neither trap nor net, and no hook Beak is the mere weapon The battle of hunger seldom stops Even in tides and in the nets of waves and typhoons All the expertise lies in hunting However a great jalapushpam(fish) The test is to catch the prey with its beak Is the sanguine trait shared Pulicot is the resort for a change of climate For the progress of the breed the trunks of Nelapattu are the residencies The Pralaya Kaveri is now the grace f love Every nestling born here is morrow’s bird The yester born narayana(the common heron) The water parrot that fed on this land Having breathed his first in the nest of this tree Can the alien Sabari ever forget? The colorful dreams of the pelicans The blooms of hope of their beautiful nights The cool breeze and the odor of the soil of Nelapattu Can the red breast ever lose memory of this honeymoon? The ecology of India echoed with The divine violin notes of gratitude The land is infinite and sky vast As the flow of time the ocean too is boundless The one who called these foreign birds as aliens The one who made immigration as inheritance If he goes from this village Begets a child in that great nation Earns a green card and citizenship But how can the egg laid here be an alien? Can the way of pariga(the rose colored Starling or theCholam bird. Pastor roseus) brought up in the Pralaya Kaveri be changed? This soil is remembered by every bird And hence every year it turns up to its motherland! (12) The scene of the skies blooming in myriad colors On the branches of the rubber trees is The sweet home of the flamingo and pelican Reflects the groping families of man In the spreading apartment culture In the shades of the hoods of the waters of Pralaya Kaveri Joyously bathes the Siberia Forgetting the tiresomeness of thousands of miles As the armed forces of navy The meghmalhar(a raga that invokes rain God) song of the bird How many brushes of the artist must have bowed in reverence? To this sea parrot Umpteen canvases must have lost their faces In the symphony of the chirps of love birds is The still picture of the happy NRI doves The music of sarigama (the seven music notes)that teaches the soaring music to the heart At least once in a year…… The passion for the embrace of the motherland The longing to kiss the soil of birth The son of the soil who lost his inner face Forgetting the roots of life in the battle Having turned into a machine At least …now Have to transmigrate into the bird! Conclusion All the souls become one The cosmic treasures become divine souls In the confluence of the water treasures of India Taking a holy dip turn to be the holy souls What may be the divinity of the migrating birds They always worship Narayana in waters. Telugu original: Perugu Ramakrishna Eng trans: Jagaddhatri [more]

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