Today, when I tried to romance  with Patience also, I asked Patience if you are ready too. Patience: What is patience, who is called patience? Does Patience even exist in me? Does Patience have any friendship with me? My questions stood there and started looking at me and I started looking at them as well. We all saw each other and the caravan of moments went on a path of quiet silence. In my closed eyes, my moving breath was also stopped. Patience: Thinking and reading Patience words brings a smile to me, as if I am just a joke for Patience. Not only is the smile of patience, every beauty of life looks at me and smiles like this. My attention is patient and eagerly hugs me. And the patient still smiled looking at us. Even though the distinction of patience of impatience was in me, my impatience ignored patience. Among the questions, when I asked myself eagerly, Whom is patience called? All of us will answer that one who lives every part of life in peace, comfort, and un

Incredible path  I always loved the raw road. If I had gone on a sure path even by mistake, my suffocation would have told me that it is on the wrong path. Way: Whether the path of thinking or feeling Whether the path leads to the animal or towards the bird Whether the path is for Los Angeles or Ludhiana Whether the path leads to human or any religion Never been able to travel on a paved road. My life always taught me to follow the rough path and gave me success My raw way: My rough roads were those that still had no walking trail. Either the marks were erased or they would have ever walked on those paths, which I had no connection with. From within myself, an eye looked at everything and looked very deeply, whenever someone talked, I looked at it very closely. Whether my question was like a child, but my child-like question kept me from learning the art of looking far away. I have always read carefully the incident against which everybody used to be  or

When my feelings through my eyes saw nature,  I felt my silence in It.  Nature became my best teacher  because of my respect. I  then remembered when I no longer felt my silence  through my innocent eyes,   I met the nature who became  my best Well-wisher

I would remain lost in great amazement whenever I carefully peered  at any part of the world. Besieged with this sense of nothingness,  I apprehended neither myself nor this vast expansion.  Lost in unawareness and burning suffocation,  I turned into a sacrifice in the grip of helplessness, despair,  and tormenting hopelessness.  Why?  The taper of cognition had not yet become amenable to illumination owing to the absence of the deep feelings of the state of pain which would arrest my breaths and impair my existence. The caravans of recollections grew eager to hear their own footfalls, as well as the footfalls of this existence which are passing through the moments of today. For in the track of its every path there zooms the journey from the root to the consciousness; in its every breath sways the intoxication from matter to the consciousness divine. In its life breaths flow—the juice of words as well as of the peace of silence.  In t