True Love and Real Love

I would love to differentiate two kinds of Love, the True Love and the Real Love. True love its just as a sugar coated pill but the real love its natural, that you can see in your mother's or brother's love . The real love is the best and there we are holding, expecting and possesing, but it will not be practical with most of our friends or relatives, there olny the true love will be work out.

I got the piece of this article from the internet and I think it is a good one to explain what is the true love and real love. And think it is a good advice to your heart broken friend, one way or another it also help to heal the wound. Enjoy the article!


I dont know why this happens...........

Some times I wish if I could be alone for a while.......to scream loudly..........
And finally, it happens and I am alone at home... with wandering thougthts... Thought about rain... .................................... For the first time in my life this year I started observing the season........
In winter...Dew Drops shined like jwells in my mind.. as promised this December did not bring any surprise for me.............

Krishna Nee Bagane Barooo....

Oh my dear Krishna,

What can I say or how I can express my thanks before you. Its really difficult to define my happiness. I was searching him for years. Its also may be one of your Leealavilasams. Anyway at last I found out my soul mate, where you was my Krishna. Why you stayed away from me? I don't know where you was and what you was?
I am so tired, was in a long non stop journey to find out my Krishna. Now I am stopping my travel here and putting all my emotional baggages, which was carried over my days, before your foots. Each and every moments my heart is whispering your name to my mind and calling you to me, my dear Krishna. Dear please come and hold me tightly my hands and hug me hard.
I am loving you not only as my friend or as my better half but as my soul. No I cant live with out you, can't take my breaths where your unbreaths exists. Now my room is filled with the sweet fragrance of your smell which is carrying by the cool breeze from you and is filling my Lungs, Heart and Soul.
Krishnaaa Nee Begane Baroooooo........

Angel from Heven

She said in the mail....

Whats the magic is there in your hand.... Whenever you hold my hand I feel...secure in your love and care...I dont have any words to explain that feelings its beautifull...moments.....
I feel like holding your hand for life longgggg...I lost in my world and I will forget everything When you hold me. By holding your hand everytime I beg god to make this love as mine.


when I was a infant...
I did not know what a friend is... and was not necessary
when I joined first standard... I felt the girl who was weeping along with me was friend
When I got upgraded to third standard... Some one lent me a pencil and I called him friend
When I was in fifth standard...We together sneaked into wayside farm and grabbed tender mangos I felt he is also a good friend of me
When I was in seventh standard...My friend helped to copy in final exam Without whom it would have been difficult for me to get into high school.

Creation of Excellance

Once Up on a time there was a Bull. One day the Bull came to saw lots of Golf Balls while it is grassing on a Greenery field. The Bull start to have the balls and after finishing all the balls the beautiful oily skin of the Bull is start to change and finally looks as the Golf Ball.
Its not a story just an Imagination of one of my friend Mr. Deepu Das. I would love to introduce him before you. He is a talanted Graphic designer and a Photographer. He made lots of wounderful creations with the Photoshop.
He mabe this work called as the Golf Bull and won the First Prize with 100 Credits in the Photoshop Talent Contest, the biggest international Photosop Excellance competition. It covering the Cash award, Certificate and Shield.
He made to find new usages of the Photoshop Tools, even the proggramme developers was ignorant on that. He won the first prize in the contest beacise of the finding of the optionalized usage of the tools and talents and creativity he made in the Picture.

History of Nehru Family

I was stumped when I read these. I have heard about the Nehru family, I dont know there would be much more to it than what meets the Eye.
The Nehru Family
At the very beginning of his book, "The Nehru Dynasty", astrologer K. N. Rao mentions the names of Jawahar Lal's father and grandfather. Jawahar Lal's father was believed to be Moti Lal and Moti Lal's father was one Gangadhar Nehru. And we all know that Jawahar Lal's only daughter was Indira Priyadarshini Nehru; Kamala Nehru was her mother, who died in Switzerland of tuberculosis. She was totally against Indira's proposed marriage with Feroze. Why? No one tells us that!

Now, who is this Feroze? We are told by many that he was the son of the family grocer. The grocer supplied wines, etc. to Anand Bhavan, previously known as Ishrat Manzil, which once belonged to a Muslim lawyer named Mobarak Ali. Moti Lal was earlier an employee of Mobarak Ali. What was the family grocer's name? One frequently hears that Rajiv Gandhi's grandfather was Pandit Nehru. But then we all know that everyone has two grandfathers, the paternal and the maternal grandfathers. In fact, the paternal grandfather is deemed to be the more important grandfather in most societies.

Gone are the Days

When the school reopened in June, And we settled in our new desks and benches. When we queued up in book depot, And got our new books and notes.
When we wanted two Sundays and no Mondays, yet Managed to line up daily for the morning prayers. We learnt writing with slates and pencils, and Progressed To fountain pens and ball pens and then micro tips. We began drawing with crayons and evolved to Color pencils and finally sketch pens. We started calculating first with tables and then with Clarke's tables and advanced to calculators and computers.
When we chased one another in the corridors in Intervals, and returned to the classrooms drenched in sweat. When we had lunch in classrooms, corridors, Playgrounds, under the trees and even in cycle shed. When all the colors in the world, Decorated thecampus on theSecond Saturdays.

Silence of Krishna

In the extremes, I long to come to you and hold your feet close to me and put all my emotional baggages down there! Why are you silent O my dear Lord?
Though your silence, as always is the answer to all my questions, this child wants your response.
I die for that presence, that grandeur which makes me silent, and my eyes filled with the love towards you. Why can't you take a break from the minds of great Yogis and come to the poor ones like mine?
How can you be this partial?
Come, fill my soul with the spiritual knowledge from your flute, have this garland made for you of those breatheless moments of my thoughts on you...

I am here my Krishna

The path is quite strange to me. I am here for the first time. Shall I take my steps ahead? I could see beautiful gardens filled with fragrance around so far, or are the unseen more beautiful? I am closing my eyes and holding your hand, be there always...............
Even those who made this way for us turn helpless to show the right path . We should make our own way in this labyrinth; be there always...............
Gone are the days of timidity in me for you being a stranger, the uniformity in our footsteps pulled us closer; be there always................
Just seen the reflection of my face in the pond beside, wondered at the surplus beauty seen there. It may diminish on the way when we get tired of this journey..still, be there always.In bygone days I used to dream of this path and the journey not alone, but your face then did never come clear.now on, be there always................
We conversed through the bliss of silence so far; be there always.The long, dedicated saffron years turn fruitful to my soul here through you, and I know the real value of it; be there always................

Gone the Days are Gone

It was raining heavily outside. Dark clouds gathered in the sky and nature was in its ominous best. I took a break from my work and went to the pantry to grab a cup of coffee. I had a sip and went near the window to see the rain pouring down heavily outside the glass structure. I was inside our huge office building, unruffled by even the fierceness of the nature. Through the heavy transparent glass, I could see a small girl trying to hold on to her umbrella which the wind was snatching away from her. I felt sorry for the girl, and was happy that I was not in a similar pathetic situation. Yes. I take pride for the fact that I am an Engineer and researcher. I have everything which a common man would envy; money, status, respect, you name it I have it. I always wanted to be a professional and here I am, working for one of the best firms in the world. But then, am I really happy? Now, I could see an imprint of my palm on the other glass window, through which I reminisced my past, basked in the warmth of the sun shine.

Kathakali-the classical dance of Kerala

A dancer performing in the Kathakali tradition, a classical story-play style of Southern India which relies on mudras, or gestures, rather than speech to relay its stories, and colours to denote its character types. The dancer’s face is painted green – colour of heroic, kingly, and divine types – and he wears the sacred mark of Vishnu the Preserver on his forehead.

The figure represents Krishna, the Vedic Hindu god and principle of love who came into the world to combat evil, a story that is told in the Mahabharata epic. As a young man of outstanding beauty and great musical prowess on the flute, Krishna caused all the young dairy-maids to fall hopelessly in love with him. He taught that divinity could be found within the self through the gradual intensification of physical love until its eventual entry, or shift, into the transcendent realm of cosmic and eternal creative energy. In Tantric Buddhism, Krishna the lover, is viewed as being a form assumed by the Great Goddess – Lalita. As an adult, Krishna’s most significant advice is that ‘all is illusion, including war and death’.