**From & To Satish **( New Pictures Pl see pg 163) - Page 35

Strength of a Man

The strength of a man isn't seen in the width of his shoulders.
It is seen in the width of his arms that encircle you.
The strength of a man isn't in the deep tone of his voice.
It is in the gentle words he whispers.
The strength of a man isn't how many buddies he has.
It is how good a buddy he is with his kids.
The strength of a man isn't in how respected he is at work....
It is in how respected he is at home.
The strength of a man isn't in how hard he hits..
It is in how tender he touches.
The strength of a man isn't how many women he's Loved by.
It is in can he be true to one woman.
The strength of a man isn't in the weight he can lift.
It is in the burdens he can understand and overcome.

Beauty of a Woman

The beauty of a woman
Is not in the clothes she wears,
The figure she carries,
Or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman
Must be seen from her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,
The place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman
Is not in a facial mole,
But true beauty in a woman
Is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives,
The passion that she shows,
The beauty of a woman
With passing years-only grows.

Same old sun

with tired and aching feet i trod upto the sea shore
removing my shoes and socks i lay my feet on the damp sand
sometimes i sit so close i feel the spray as a fine mist on my face
i look across the waters as wave after wave bundles and rolls and crashes on the shore
i wonder in melancholy and think back about how many people would have sat on the shores
how many children would have played,i think back about how many lovers would have sat and exchanged shy and sly glances.

I look upto the sun and feel his warmth upon my face.
he whispers you came,you lived and you will go
live this moment,feel this moment,love this moment
for the next moment is unknown and even i dont know for one day
billions of years from now i wont be there
for someone like you,a life like you will be looking up at a dark and dead sky

time is flowing and vibrating to a clock of the cosmos
and yonder in its territory our wrist watches,shedules or appointments dont matter
i will go,you will go,we all will go that is for sure
so live,laugh,cry,share and stop and wonder at the beauty of this life

MUSINGS AND MEMORIES

As you might remember , the head of a company survived
9/11(Twin Tower Attack in US) because his son started kindergarten on that day.

Another fellow was alive because it was
His turn to bring donuts.

One woman was late because her
Alarm clock didn't go off in time.

One was late because of being stuck on the NJ Turnpike
Because of an auto accident.

One of them
Missed his bus.

One spilled food on her clothes and had to take
Time to change.

One's
Car wouldn't start.

One couldn't
Get a taxi.

The one that struck me was the man
Who put on a new pair of shoes that morning,
Took the various means to get to work
But before he got there, he developed
a blister on his foot.

He stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid.
That is why he is alive today..

Now when I am
Stuck in traffic ,
Miss an elevator,
Turn back to answer a ringing telephone ...

All the little things that annoy me.
I think to myself,
This is exactly where
God wants me to be
At this very moment..

Next time your morning seems to be
Going wrong ,

The children are slow getting dressed,
You can't seem to find the car keys,
You hit every traffic light,
Don't get mad or frustrated;
It May be just that
God is at work watching over you.

May God continue to bless you
With all those annoying little things
And may you remember their possible purpose.

Pass this on to someone else, if you'd like.
There is NO LUCK attached.
If you delete this, it's okay:
God's Love Is Not Dependent On E-Mail!!

To arjun_meena,

I am married.

satish

same journey in different trains at different times

Now all those decades later i sit in a ac-chair car on the shatapti express which flies
from chennai to banglore in about four and a half hours.a newspaper is given with a water bottle.
breakfast is served in sterile looking sealed plates.everybody is buried in the papers or busy with
their mobiles making money.
but still my heart aches and beats to go stand near the doorway and watch towns,villages and trains whiz by.no smoke to blacken my face for it is all disel and electrically run trains.even when i try to sneak and open the door i get frowned on by some pasengers who gives me this look.you look intelligent so why are you acting so childishly.sometimes i do catch a minute or two near the door when it stops and people have finished boarding but the private moment is mostly disturbed by someone or other who wants to know when this serial will get over or what will happen to that character in that serial.

In total melacncholy i watch as stations pass small villages.i wonder what is happening there.who or what kind of dreams do people who live there dream.oh so much to do,so much to dream,so much to life.