The Good Old Man!
Ah! With a long beard!
Think it to be as white as one can?
Or kind of Purity one may have heard!
A perception of perfection in His clan,
Is omni present, without ever being searched?
That is the ‘Guru’ of my dreams,
With an aura of 450 kilometers,
He gives me strength and the heat,
Like a Sun, in comparison to all heaters.
At Your beck and call has been my entire heart beat,
Something which can’t be measured by all meters!
Well! You the Good Old Man,
As a perfect planner, you armored various Gurus,
To invade the sins out of the canvassed ‘Plan’
By carrying the invisible ‘torched’ flame through,
Let all world be humble, say, orchestrates by all fans,
Of which you are the conductor, we all think so!
That is why you are so vital and so loving,
Absorbing, exonerating, pardoning, and unfailing,
Hence I must remember you as often as I should!
For ‘You’ and ‘Your’ effects are so goooooooooood,
The louder I said, more humbly, and as fast as I could,
The transformation occurred God! Hurrying from Good!
The magic formula for competitive succession
Does possibly prevail when success must happen:
To get them linearly aligned to perceptions,
‘One’ has to mention following three actions:
1.Knowing customer domain, and making sense
2.Monitoring motivation cum operator attendance
3.Befitting automated operations with IT stimulants
Using these holistically with relevant variants;
Integrating them all is vital to one’s cognizance
That’s the magic formula for competitive succession
The curriculum of education in Gurukulam,
Produced disciples as cool as lamb.
Though as tall in values as a tomb,
And as secure in knowledge as child in womb,
Mythologically they well acquainted with God Ram,
Yet mystically they were equally cupid with small RAM
Using PC’s to operating excellence of PARAM (Indian Super Computer)
It is integrating technologically with precious DHARAM
Such, Gurukulam Shishyas today can holistically plan,
What rest consider as Chewing (iron) Grams.
I deeply adored you! Much From the core of my heart,
But that never made an ado for you to crack, sweet-heart.
Though valentine’ous threats had’me greeting with bloody spears.
Yet continued I, to love you, with no fears and nil peers.
However to breach that gap, my desire pre-empted farther,
To propose straight to you: to let me drown into you deeper,
Through your ravenous eyes, which, say, scared each intruder,
Including me, until I was overwhelmed by your beauteous slumber.
Like being hypnotized, allowed I myself to flow into your eyes,
Duly conforming to the Vortex of your desires and disguise,
Well, as you were set just to absorb me drown into you deeper,
Your devilous acts scorned you to close your eyes without fear?
Love knows no bounds, I knew now, having drained enough Sweat.
Unordained, your porcupinous thorns had that anaesthetic effects.
over my flow of emotions, which fell short of prefect,
Well that was a short end of making my love story blatant.