Monday, February 25, 2013

War and Peace


War and Peace

As the chaotic way of loss, as the fire raging like a storm in red, and bloodshed of us against ourselves, we devour, destroy, and discriminate ourselves to put ourselves in the middle of war

The whistling of the bombs, the beating sound of every explosion, the grabbing tap of gunfire that stops the heart, a spilling loss of more life taken by war

Men loose hope in the midst of battle, as the sun sets, that hope is crushed
The men in war attack, and kill with the hopes of victory, but what are they to achieve, in this frantic, chaotic battlefield

War can do nothing great, but sadness overcomes everyone – the confidence of love and compassion can only plod along

The thing that keeps us alive, is that slice, that miniature portion of hope, that part that shines like a midnight star, that one thing that will help us at all times, something to gape at more than anything else
That attractive gazing display is the beauty of peace

From the twittering and chirping sound of the singing birds, or the swift ride of a proud horse, or a little genial child in a light conversation

Peace comes from hope, compassion and love, the one important thing you lose in war, but also the thing everyone should look back at, from war to peace

Friends


 Friends

A moment can be magical, I consent
Mine was magical in a tent
My parents planned a trip that I resent
And oh boy! Did I repent
The tent was by the washroom, so you can imagine the scent
Upset I was to every extent
I was eager to watch the Bears play, so the weekend seemed misspent
My parents knew I was upset but said nothing to augment
Mom came to me and said that she planned the trip for me, so I should act decent
But I could do nothing to better represent
They were all having fun, my sadness was to prevent
I sat down by the river and in the sand was a dent
I poked a finger at it, and saw some gold coin that could make me affluent
You see, you might think the magic part was, it was invisible to every parent
But written on it was “we really miss you”, sorry the coin is a gold foil on a cent
My friends were upset, they said they missed me and I knew what they meant
This thought was worth a million dollar more than the gold that I would have spent
 I knew my friends really cared, and that was my magic of a moment.


Sunday, November 4, 2012

Numerals

    Once there lived the very powerful Meher Sethi.  How he became who he is now is - that I will explain - It all started one morning when his Indiana potato head alarm clock started to buzz.  He opened his eyes.  It was 7:00 am.  Perfect, he thought, but 3 seconds later did he realize there was another potato head right next  to it.  Not an alarm clock, just a regular one.  Awkward, he never remembered getting one.  He exhaustively wiped it on the floor from his bed, and when it scattered into a billion pieces they formed a two.  Funny.  As he collected the two, his brain went through a thousand thoughts, all memories, and when he had awakened from this odd trance, the two had disappeared back into a pile of crumbs.  It was Sunday, no school, but it only got spoiled.  The "two" would rush through his brain every five seconds.  He picked up the book from his shelf and started to read.  

   "Meher!", his mom Nidhi yelled.  She came up to see what he was doing.  Breakfast is ready.  She was satisfied he was reading.  "Is it toast?" Meher asked in a dull manner.  "Why yes, off course" she said surprised.  "How'd you know?".   He stuck his tongue out his mom.  She scowled at him.  "Now don't...." she was stopped.  "Breakfast" he asked regularly, not as if to make sure that is what his mom said.  "What is it?"  he asked eagerly wanting to know.   

  "I just told you t......".   

  "Wait right there. Let me guess.  Is it toast?" he confirmed excitedly.

She gave him a nod that should be telling him "You are acting very awkward".  She was so worn out to see her child acting like a monkeylionalligatorpeacockunicorn all combined in one which concerned her very much.  So much that she did'nt realize the mess of the number two potato head madness. When she came back and saw the trash on the floor,  "You better pick this up" she scolded.  When she handed him the toast, the way he stared at it made it look like he'd never eaten in his life.  But he didn't bite it because five seconds later his attitude changed to dullness again.  It kept alternating that when his mom slapped him on the head did he recover and took a bite of his bread.  He closed his eyes and collapsed as everything became black.  He was unconscious.  Ten seconds later, he woke up in a hospital.  "Hey", he exclaimed.  "Who stole my toast ?"  A bearded man with a knife in his hand turned around, pointed at Meher, then made himself look like he was dead.  Easy.  The man was trying to tell Meher that he would kill him.  He checked his front pockets.  Couldn't find anything, so he went to his drawer and not realizing his pistol was in his back right pocket.  Meher quietly sneaked up to get it.    

To be continued........

The Best Day of 3rd Grade

The best day ever was today (in football terms).  I was playing really good if mostly defense, it was still amazing.  First up it was 3rd down.  Kishore (the QB) had probably no one open but Ethan, slightly.  Kishore faced him good bringing his arm back in a throw position, letting everyone know that is was Ethan's catch.  Everyone crowded around him, but Kishore could not change his mind.  He already threw it, it was dangerous for both teams.  If one of our team players, or Ethan himself was not able to complete the play, it would be 4th down for the opposing team. That would force them to either kick or stick it.  But if we let the ball go, it gave Ethan the easy path for TD.  Ethan almost caught it, but the hero! I deflected the pass! My first way to the best day of 3rd grade.  

Like-A Poem


Magical Hat




Whats in a Name?

You would have to be Albert Einstein to think of a better name than Meher.  My parents really wanted a child, so when they got me, they thought it was a blessing.  That ended up being my name.  I love my name, because M stands for so many miraculous, mighty, marvelous, manly, male (only men are awesome.....just kidding) words.  I sort of want a nickname, I don't know why, and don't because I also like to be called Meher.  So, no nicknames.  Besides, my name is only 5 letters, and 2 syllables, so there's no point.  My name means, as I told you, blessing in Hindi (Indian language).  As my name is a blessing, I am blessed to have it as my name.