Tag Archives: success

POEM: THE SUM TOTAL OF LIFE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

 

 

The sum total of life was never easy to calculate,

And the equation of existence was never easy to evaluate,

Where, I had rubbed some, and some had rubbed me,

And from this tug of war I could never be free.

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But I remember I was born with a mission,

That had a vision,

It also had a goalpost,

And it also had the foremost.

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But then what went wrong?

That soon after I was born,

My mission changed and vision altered,

Goalpost shifted and I somersaulted.

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Perhaps, in the windings of life,

Attractions were galore,

Where arrogance was available even in a road side store,

And where ego had become the dubious cynosure.

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Slowly, all these had become the handy recipes for success,

Where, show off had become the order of the day,

Humbleness had become the emblem of the frail,

And politeness the solemn disgrace.

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So, to stay the course,

 I deviated from my umbilical holds,

To become that fashionable rogue,

Where, I too, cheated to the fore,

And intimidated others, galore.

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One day I met God while walking on the road,

He asked,

Son! How are you?

I replied,

Who are you?

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He said,

Well I’m God your creator,

I replied,

But you’re quite a traitor,

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In utter disbelief,

He asked why?

I said because you belied,

About the journey of life,

By selling me the futile.

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But how?

Asked God,

I said,

Where, it was arrogance you gave me some great mission,

Where, it was ego you gave me some stupid vision,

And where it was show off you gave me that wide goalpost.

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But all that wasn’t required,

To rise higher,

So I changed my fire,

And with that my sire.

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But son I had sent you to there,

For everyone’s welfare,

But instead of welfare,

You became a malware,

And what will God do,

If it has sons like you?

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That is your problem God,

If men can’t do what you want them to do,

Go create some other species,

That will help you chase,

Your mandate that is not easy.

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Hold on my son,

Don’t throw such a referendum,

Life for you has just begun,

So, let me give you an ultimatum.

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Mend your ways,

And return,

To those humble and noble sways,

For you have no idea,

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Of the sum total of those stormy waves,

That will only strike you,

When you’re at the twilight of your days,

And that will be too late.

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In pursuit of wild success man has imbibed arrogance, ego and show-off leaving behind those splendid virtues of a simple lifestyle. And it is only by practice of simple habits the sum total of your life will move towards the positive side.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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Share if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

 

 

POEM: THE VILLAIN OF MY LIFE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

THE VILLAIN OF MY LIFE

 

For every triumph I praised myself,

For each success I hailed myself,

But for each failure,

I never nailed myself.

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Failures were hard to ingest,

And they were hard to digest,

And, therefore, for all my failures,

I created a villain in my life.

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Whom I blamed fair and square,

Whom I condemned in all my nightmares,

And cursed each time I was in despair,

For all the failures that I couldn’t repair,

And this became a habit while in distress.

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Until one day,

In utter rage,

I killed the villain with my own umbrage,

Fearing I had created a Frankenstein,

That might return some day.

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For, I thought, forever, my failures were over,

And my debacles are forestalled,

So villain is no more required,

But success was still awaited,

Where my final victory was only round the corner.

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So happily I proceeded,

Despising the villain,

Amplifying myself,

But not adhering to the tenets of life.

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But as life would have it,

This time it was a calamity that struck,

Wiping out, all my successes,

And bringing about my doomsday.

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But this time I had no one to blame,

As the villain was dead,

Whom I had killed myself,

And that made me realize,

Do own up your success,

But don’t blame someone else for your mistakes.

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SHORT STORY: A FRIEND’S ADVISE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

    Durga was a rich farmer, but an extremely lazy one. Who, neither looked after his fields nor his granary. Nor did he ever bother to keep a regular count of his cattle and the health of his dairy. That apart, he did not even bother to look after his own household belongings. Anything and everything, he just left it on his servants to accomplish. His laziness gradually led to mismanagement and soon the situation at home became adverse when he started losing money, both in his farm and even in his dairy.

    One day Harish a friend of Durga came visiting him. He noticed the situation in his house to be extremely deplorable. But he knew well, Durga won’t accede to his valuable sermons.  So he decided to play a noble trick to help him tide over the situation. He said—‘Friend! I’m disheartened to see you in such a deplorable condition. But I have a sure and easy way, to pull you out of your miseries.’

    Durga was now eager to know what his friend had in mind. He politely said—‘kindly tell me know what you have in mind and I’ll surely follow.’

    Harish said—‘my dear friend, before all the birds wake up in the morning. A white swan that lives in Mansarovar lake comes to earth and returns by noon. One cannot exactly say when it comes. But it is generally believed that anyone who is able to have his darshan is considered very lucky. For you’ll have no problems in life thereafter. And you’ll roll in riches.’

    Durga replied—‘Is it so. Then, come what may, I’ll ensure, I have his darshan.’

    After the conversation, Harish left for his home. Next day, Durga got up early in the morning. He came out of his house, in pursuit of the white swan, and walked towards the granary. There he saw one person pilfering his grain out of the heap. But when he saw Durga coming. He started apologizing.

    From the granary Durga returned home. Then he went to his cow ranch. There he saw the milker, milking his cow. But to his surprise, he was only filling his wife’s pot with the milk. Durga reprimanded him. Thereafter, he had something to eat. And then he left his home again in search of the white swan, when he went back to his fields. There he noticed, the labourers had not even come. He patiently waited for them. When they finally arrived he scolded them for coming late. And in this manner, wherever he went, he curtailed his losses.

    Thereafter, in search of the white swan, Durga started getting up early in the morning every day, and started roaming around. With this change of habit, his servants started working honestly. All the pilferage stopped in his granary and even in his dairy. Earlier, he used to be a sickly person. But now he had become healthy because of the long walks and exercise. The fields from where he was getting poor yields, suddenly started giving high returns. And even his cow-ranch started giving milk aplenty that gave him rich dividends.

    One day after a long time, Durga’s friend Harish came to his house again. When, Durga said—‘friend! I couldn’t find that white swan you spoke about last time. But in his pursuit I started making profits.’

    Harish started laughing and replied by saying—‘friend! To toil relentlessly, is the white swan I was talking about. The wings of labour are always white. People, who don’t work and leave everything to their servants, always suffer losses. But, people who toil themselves, and look after their servants, earn fortunes and respect.

    The story is from our mythology.

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Share if you like it

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    Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

 

POETRY: EGO

Copyright@shravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

couple ego ego ego1

EGO

I was right and he was wrong,

And that brought about the ferocious storm,

For in this alluring life,

Only I was in the boil and he in the warmth.

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I was right and she was wrong,

And that brought about the nagging storm,

For in this fascinating life,

I suffered while she rejoiced.

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Mind says, I was always right and the other wrong,

Heart says I was ever right and the other wrong,

Where ego hides between the mind and heart,

To play its blaring song.

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In the pantomime of life,

No pantomime remained,

For half was snatched and half was surrendered,

To the ego of minds.

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Till one day when I realised in the wake of life,

Only tall egos remained,

Virtues refrained,

And happiness was in vain.

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For in the framework of a lifetime,

Ego reigned under the spell of legerdemain,

While humility abstained.

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And by the time I could attain,

The bliss of sane,

It was too late,

For the other had left to gain.

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Leaving me to my big fat ego,

At the inveterate crux of my domain.

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POETRY: WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TIME

Copyright@shravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

pendulum clock karma pendulum clock

WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TIME

When the clock strikes time,

It tells my mind,

That in the interest of a lifetime,

I need to do something sublime.

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When the clock strikes time,

It reminds,

One needs to climb,

The lofty mountains of harrowing times,

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For time is never kind,

In the bewilderment of a lifetime,

Where in the cadence of strides,

Timing and direction needs to be right.

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Where the clock-dial looks like a shrine,

And the needles, the pricking needles of a lifetime,

And the pendulum, the uncertain sting of time,

Is when the clock chimes to announce the unmet rigors of time.

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And between the clock and my mind,

Remains the eerie twine,

Of sad and merry times,

In the hobnob of ethereal mesmerize.

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For let’s not blame the clock,

To what we suffer over times,

For clock is no shrine,

That carves our noxious times.

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For we bring about our own time,

In the rigmarole of enduring spine,

And when the clock strikes time,

It only reminds of our sync with times.

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POETRY: IN THE MARCH-PAST OF LIFE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

marchpast success workhomelife

IN THE ‘MARCH-PAST’ OF LIFE

In the march-past of life,

I often had to fight for my right,

So also, in the march-past of life,

I often had to fight for my plight.

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Where in the backwaters of my aspirations,

There was always a march-past of ambitions,

And in the animation of my fantasies,

A march-past of tribulations.

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For in the spate of luck,

My share was low,

But in the spirit of struggle,

My march-past was rife.

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For who cares and cares who?

As you are a small fry,

But the march-past of life,

Took me to the skies.

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And in the barracks of life,

Whenever it begins to twilight,

I pull out my boots,

For a march-past of another kind.

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Though names and definitions change,

March-past remains the same,

And even though it has no great name,

March-past is the gateway to fame.

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And march-past is divine,

As it quarantines,

The unwanted malware of your mind,

Just to keep you in line.

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POETRY: THERE IS A STORM IN EACH LIFE

Copyright: ‘From the Prism of God’

By Kamlesh Tripathi

god4STORM1STORM

THERE IS A STORM IN EACH LIFE

 

THERE IS A RAGING STORM IN EACH LIFE,

THAT CREATES RIPPLES IN EVERY LIFE,

BUT WITHOUT IT THERE ISN’T ANY LIFE,

AND SO, BE THAT AS IT MAY,

STORM TOUCHES THE CHORD OF EVERY LIFE.

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WHILE THERE IS A TORMENTING STORM IN FAILURE,

THERE IS A FIZZY STORM IN VICTORY,

A HEART-SINKING STORM IN DEFEAT,

AND A SWEET STORM IN SUCCESS,

WELL TAILORED A STORM FOR EACH OCCASSION.

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WHILE I FACE THE STORM OF ILLNESS,

IN THE MERRY-GO-ROUNDS OF MY EMOTIONS,

SOMEONE ELSE FACES THE STORM OF HEALTHINESS,

IN HIS OWN UPBEATISHNESS,

BUT YES THERE IS A STORM IN EACH LIFE,

UNTILL HE’S ALIVE.

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FOR THERE IS AN ICY STORM IN ISOLATION,

A COMPETITIVE STORM IN COMPANY,

A CELESTIAL STORM IN RECOGNITION,

A SOFT STORM IN A PRIEST,

AND A NASTY STORM IN A DEVIL,

NEVERTHELESS, THERE IS A STORM IN EACH LIFE AND SITUATION.

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IT HAS NO FACE,

NO VOICE OF DISCORD,

OFFERS NO PLEASANTRIES NOR BADINAGE,

AS IT MAKES NO SOUND,

AND OFTEN ENTERS THROUGH THE BACK DOOR,

AS A VORTEX OF A LIFETIME.

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IT OFTEN COMES AS A FRIEND DISGUISED AS AN ENEMY,

WHEN IT THROWS YOU OFF GEAR,

 AND SHOCKS YOU TO DESPAIR,

IT HURTS YOU PROPER YET IT KEEPS YOU ALIVE,

TO LEARN THE LESSONS OF LIFE,

AND WHAT MORE, FOR THERE IS A STORM IN EACH LIFE.

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IT DOESN’T FAVOUR,

DOESN’T PICK AND CHOOSE,

TREATS ALL EQUALLY,

AND GIVES NO ONE A BREATHER,

AND SPARES NO ONE, NOT EVEN A FRESHER.

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BIGGER THE SMILE BIGGER IS THE STORM,

AND BEHIND EVERY SMILE THERE IS A STORM,

BEFORE EVERY STORM THERE IS A SMILE,

AND BEYOND THE STORM THERE IS A WIDER SMILE.

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AND IN MY CANVAS OFLIFE, THERE WASN’T A MOMENT,

WHEN I NEVER FACED A STORM,

BUT STORMS COME AND GO,

LEAVING BEHIND THE STORM OF LIFE.

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FOR YOU CAN DISOWN YOUR LIFE,

BUT NOT THE STORM IN YOUR LIFE,

AND NOW WHEN THE STORM STAYS AWAY,

I WONDER WHAT NEXT,

FOR THERE HAS TO BE A STORM AT EVERY BEHEST.