EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL (PART - II)

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U. A. KIRAN

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EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL (PART - II)

A bank manager was traveling by train. The man next to him was in pain. When asked, he started his story. Two men stopped him with a pistol. He fought with them and got injured. He ran to hide behind a wall where another man had been hiding. When asked, he told his story. He and his friends had robbed a bank and police were after them. In the bank, when depositing money, he saw a beautiful girl and fell in love with her. When proposed, she told she was already engaged. She could not love another man. His friend who was a bank clerk had a story too. He was not happy with the work. He wanted more money and decided to rob the bank. His friend was ready to help. His two friends were admitted in hospital. They had a story. After robbing a bank, their car stopped suddenly. They ran and met a man. One of them took out his pistol. But the man attacked them. The man had told his story earlier to the bank manager whose bank was robbed.

EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL

U. A. KIRAN

presents

EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL

A man was walking down the street when he heard a cry. It was of a girl. When asked why she cried, she started her story. A thief snatched her purse and ran away. She was returning home after attending her friend's party, with her three friends. One of her friend was sad. When asked, she told her story. She had a younger brother who was not concentrating on his studies. Once while going to school, he met a man who was beating a boy. When asked he started his tale. He was his son and he had caught him smoking. His son was interested in gambling too. He was gambling, when his partner expressed his anger. When asked, he told his story. He had stolen a purse from a girl. But there wasn't anything except a lip-stick, a small mirror and a comb.

YOU

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I saw you,

When I did not want to see you,

I was looking somewhere;

I only turned

And got you there,

I did not hear you,

I did not feel you,

But I saw you,

When I did not want to see you.

I was thinking

I only turned

And got you walking,

You turned me restless;

For I can not see you,

When I want to see you.

Originals are the best

Remixes might gain or lose their places, but the originals would remain at the top. Expenses of creating an original is high in comparison to making a remix, so the music companies sometimes fear to count on the original music only. The remixes may have succeeded in attracting the young generation to some extend, but this success is short-lived. Sooner or later some become aware of the charm of the original ones, while the others remain ignorant of them.

 

Nonetheless, nobody would doubt the creativity in the original is far superior to its remix which has some additional or fresh beats and tunes with video full of gorgeous and exposing models and their boogieing steps or missteps all through the song. It has been rightly said that remixes are more seen than listened and have no chance of reaching into the hearts of millions of music lovers. However, nowadays some originals and their remixes are made at the same time by the same music directors, giving no hope to anybody else.

Dealing with Garbage

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The system of 'Lifting Garbage from Doorsteps' is the appropriate
one to deal with the garbage problem and keep the city clean. It
should always be one of an excellent planning with an excellent
purpose. In many places, this system is implemented with success.
These areas are cleaner than the areas where garbage is thown in
the bins or containers kept to collect it. Besides insects teeming
in numbers, birds and animals, in search of food, scatter the
garbage all around the containers.

Hence, the 'Lifting Garbage' method should replace the containers
everywhere, as some people feel too labourious or indolent or
embarrassed to go out carrying the garbage to discard it in the
containers, and end up throwing it at any convinient spot near their
houses.

On the Pavement He Lay

Died without issue,
He had nothing to issue.
On the pavement he lay,
The dust and rubbish beside lay.
Nobody around cared for him,
Days and nights were same for him.
Flies uncountable sat on the body,
But the soul retired from the body.
The dead seemed still to moan,
Nobody was there to listen to the moan.
His heart might have been love's mountain,
No mountaineer had climbed the mountain.

Died without a tear,
No soul was there to shed a tear.
Souls kind-hearted donated wealth,
What would the dead do with the wealth?
Foul smell pierced the air,
Polluted the fresh air.
Left no option but to touch the body,
Like anything the fire swallowed the body.
The dead seemed still to moan,
But there was nobody to listen to the moan.
His heart might have been love's mountain,
Yet no mountaineer had climbed the mountain.

Give me…..

Give me the land
That can harmonize with me,
Give me the land
That can accept me,
At least, give me the land
That will cremate me.

Give me the sky
That can rain with me,
Give me the sky
That can encourage me,
At least, give me the sky
That will shelter me.

Give me the dream
That can stay with me,
Give me the dream
That can strengthen me,
At least, give me the dream
That will fulfill me.

Give me the life
That can ascend with me,
Give me the life
That can crown me,
At least, give me the life
That will liberate me.