Beera

Wait, that moment comes to end, But patience stays, your truest friend . Is it beautiful , or just divine ? Time will tell as it draws the line. Each small step, each choice made, Paves the path that we will tread. The climb is tough, the pace is slow, But steady hearts will always grow. Nothing beats that joy so pure , A hope that feels secure. Though doubts may rise and moments dim, A quiet hope still starts to swim. The silence hanging in the air, The anxious glances here and there The wait for something to be done Becomes a tale that’s just begun . Smiles spread gently, laughter flows , A wave of peace within us grows. Faces light up, hearts rejoice, In that stillness, we hear a joyful voice. The wait is over, calm and bright, Let the story continue with new light ...                                                     

Clouds form a pattern in the sky , In hues of orange , drifting high. They move along without a sound, Like quiet guests that float around. They never leave, they never stray, But hide when sunlight floods the day. At dusk and dawn , they tint the light, Painting skies in soft twilight . Like an artist's brush at play, They shift and change throughout the day. Minutes turn to hours fast, Yet every moment seems to last. Nature’s beauty, calm and deep, Lulls the restless soul to sleep. The closer we are, the more we see How nature sets our spirits free. Freedom... what a lovely word, Not always shouted, often heard In gentle winds and skies above, In little things, like clouds we love. Opinions shift, and feelings stray, But clouds remain, they find their way In shapes unknown , in forms brand new, On a journey meant for me and you.                                             ...

Once upon a time, in a tiny little town nestled between hills and meadows, there lived a monster. From the time he was a child, the townspeople feared him. Perhaps it was his appearance, or maybe his cold demeanour, but no one dared to go near him. He wandered through life in solitude, never knowing the warmth of companionship. Years later, a little angel arrived in town. She was full of energy and joy, her smile bright enough to melt even the coldest hearts. The townspeople adored her instantly. She had a kind word for everyone and was always surrounded by admirers. But even in the midst of all that affection, she noticed someone on the outskirts, someone standing alone, pushed away by the rest.That someone was the monster. She watched his lonely figure for days, her heart quietly aching. One morning, she decided to approach him. “Hi,” she said with a smile, unbothered by the stories she had heard. He didn’t answer at first, but she didn’t give up. Day after day, she returned, sometim...

After a short break, I finally watched a movie today, one that had been on my watchlist for a while. Interestingly, it wasn’t the film itself that first caught my attention, but a song from it. During my visit to Kerala , I heard my cousins playing a beautiful track, and curiosity led me to ask which movie it was from. That’s when I learned the name " Nariveta ". Until today, I knew nothing about its plot or genre, so I went in with zero expectations. As the movie began, I wasn’t particularly impressed at first, but I had heard from others that it was worth watching. The first half felt like a typical feel-good story, sprinkled with a bit of mystery through flashbacks. However, it was the second half that truly elevated the narrative. The film revolves around the lives of tribal communities , homeless on their own land and their fight for basic shelter . It also explores the complexities of human nature , revealing hidden emotions and unexpected behavior. The gradual transf...

Heavy rain couldn’t stop us from following through with our plan for a good meal. After several delays, we finally made it to the food court above Dmart. It was around evening time when we set out. While we were still planning, the sun peeked out briefly through the clouds. But just as we started getting ready, strong winds began to blow. Still, our determination held strong, as if we were embarking on a heroic mission. Midway through the journey, the clouds gave way and the rain poured heavily, flooding the roads. Despite carrying an umbrella, we got drenched. Our clothes were soaked through, water dripping from the hems. After battling the downpour, we finally reached the entrance of the food court. Stepping inside, the blast of cool air from the air conditioners sent shivers down our spines. We picked a spot and settled in, chatting while we observed our surroundings. Couples and families filled the space, yet we couldn't help but look around for another friend group like ours. ...

Green, green — everywhere green, In shapes and shades yet all unseen. Though every hue may seem apart, They share the same, a leafy heart. Fascinating, isn’t it so? How colors shift as sunsets glow? From dawn to dusk, her tones rearrange, Yet through it all, she does not change. She stands so still by walls and ways, Unmoving through the nights and days. Just watching life from up above, A silent soul, a friend with love. She bears the weight of joy and pain, The laughter loud, the silent strain. In summer's blaze, she does not flee, But offers shade to you and me. The clouds then see her burdened form, And send cool rain, a soft reform. From crown to root, she's gently kissed, By drizzling drops of morning mist. She dances when the breezes blow, In whispered tunes so sweet and low. Again she shields us from the rain, A quiet guard through joy or strain. She listens though she cannot speak, Her comfort strong, her presence meek. We may not hear, yet she replies, In rustling lea...

My grandmother's house has always felt like a vacation spot. While I never felt deeply connected to the place, each year that I didn’t visit, it felt as if I had left behind something important. Listening to my friends share stories of their close bonds with their grandmothers bedtime tales, long chats, and shared secrets I realized that my experience was different. Perhaps it was because I was never given the chance to stay with her for long. My visits were brief, only once a year. As I grew older, my feelings just like the house itself began to change. Nestled among trees on a hilltop, it wasn't just any house anymore; it was my grandmother’s home. The aroma of her cooking would reach us even before we stepped through the door. She always prepared a feast, filled with love. One of my favorite dishes was a cucumber curry she made, its taste still lingers on my tongue, although I haven’t had it in years. Somehow, nothing has ever matched that childhood flavor. Though I return t...