Archive for February, 2015

A Prayer to the Lord


The dark blue color of your skin matches the deep hue of the late evening sky,
You are the light in the cosmos, you are the force which makes heavenly bodies fly;

You are the atom, you the nucleus, you the particle which goes around,
You are the invisible force which keeps the entire universe bound;


You reside in the sweet fragrance of the flowers, in the sap of plants,
You flow in the rapids, leap up in flames, you are in insects and in ants;


You hide in the melody of music, in the ether, in the tiny grains of sand,
You are behind all joys and sorrows of nature, in the rainbow, in the fertile land;


O supreme Bliss, who and where are you, we wish to know,
Words can’t describe you, thoughts can’t fathom your flute and bow;


We bow down to you but are fed up of this hide and seek game,
We beseech you to reveal yourself, to the able-bodied and to the lame.

(Contributed by Usha)

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February is the month of celebration of some of the greatest romances we come across in literature. Here is one some of you may like to revisit.


220px-TheClickingOfCuthbertP. G. Wodehouse gave us many romances that linger long in our affections. Each February at Plumtopia is dedicated revisiting the Great Wodehouse Romances to mark the anniversary of his death on St Valentine’s Day, 1975.


Cuthbert Banks and Adeline Smethurst

One of the delights of a Wodehouse romance, is the inventiveness with which he steers his heroes and heroines toward their first meeting. Some of these introductions happen ‘off-stage,’ especially in the Wooster narratives, but elsewhere we are privileged witnesses to some truly memorable meetings. Among his fruitiest is the moment when golfer Cuthbert Banks interrupts Raymond Parsloe Devine’s lecture to the Wood Hills Literary and Debating Society, in order to play his ball – with a niblick – from on top of the table.

‘I have dwelt upon this incident, because it was the means of introducing Cuthbert Banks to Mrs Smethurst’s niece, Adeline. As Cuthbert, for…

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PGWodehouseP G Wodehouse passed away on the 14th of February, 1975. Some of his fans celebrated the occasion by coming up with some unique posts dedicated to his memory. Here are some that you may like.


By Kishore M. Rao

Plum Pie
(or KhichDee, a hotchpotch Indian dish)

Galahad At Blandings,
Has many happy landings,
In fact, Over Seventy,
For many, that’s plenty.

A Gentleman Of Leisure,
Looking for some pleasure,
Pleads with goofy earls,
Saying, “Bring On The Girls”.

The Woosters and the Bassets,
Try to warm their well Frozen Assets,
Bobby makes hot water bottles squishy,
That’s certainly Something Fishy.

There’s Ice in the Bedroom,
Gussie may become a groom,
Even if it’s as Mephistopheles,
And it’s time to Ring for Jeeves.

Your counsel relieves,
Thank You, Jeeves,
Sometimes here and also there,
Blandings Castle And Elsewhere.

Jeeves, Meadowes or Purvis,
You always get Quick Service,
Always swiftly and with style,
That’s Service With A Smile.

When it is Cocktail Time,
The mood’s very ‘sublime’,
The men come in tons,
For A Few Quick Ones.

There’s Joy In The Morning,
With Jeeves in the Offing,
When the plot really thickens,
There’s Love Among The Chickens.

Young Men In Spats,
And A Damsel In Distress,
Are duly advised right,
By Uncle Dynamite.

Butlers may buttle and zip,
Sporting a Stiff Upper Lip,
Jeeves, but it’s tough when,
Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen!

The Coming of Bill,
Accompanied by Jill,
The Reckless starchy
Indiscretions of Archie.

The Clicking of Cuthbert,
Who chases every skirt,
With The Girl On The Boat,
Will certainly get your goat.

Intrepid young men,
Like Sam The Sudden,
And Bill The Conqueror,
Do their youth squander.

When The Small Bachelor,
Experiences Heavy Weather,
He tries, plans and gets,
Eggs, Beans and Crumpets.

When you are delirious,
Read Nothing Serious,
Just some morale boosters,
Like The Code Of The Woosters.

Let’s Meet Mr. Mulliner,
Who’s got Spring Fever,
From The Girl In Blue,
How?! I have no clue!

Show someone off a bridge?
Please consult Mr Ukridge,
And also Picadilly Jim,
(You surely know him).

But let us all be totally frank,
Tho’ there’s Money In The Bank,
You will agree it is rather funny,
That Big Money is Uneasy Money.

When exceeding the budget,
And in need of The Little Nugget,
Make enquiries, with thanks,
“Do Butlers Burgle Banks?”

Why is love synonymous
With Bachelors Anonymous?
For the answer forthwith,
Just Leave It To Psmith!

And If I Were You,
(That can’t be true)
I’d get into Hot Water,
With the Earl’s daughter.

I’ve got The Heart Of A Goof,
Do you demand further proof?!
I found the real reason,
It’s The Mating Season!

(You may like to count the number of Wodehouse’s works covered in this composition!)

By Sukanya Lakshmi Narayan

An Ode to Plum

What does one say of Plum, this Valentine
In honour of humour , in his every line
No words of praise can ever be enough
Its a task that’s dauntingly tough.

His characters, for us are alive and kicking
They have us in splits, sometimes rollicking
Bertie Wooster leads a privileged life
But its the hardest job to find him a wife.

Aunt Agatha eats bottles for breakfast
Dahlia is loud but surely steadfast
Jeeves is his valet and angel saviour
Saves Bertie and friends from many a quagmire.

Lord Emsworth and his beloved Empress
Kid Clementina is no less a princess
Sisters galore, and Gally the brother
McAllister , gardener, efficient like no other.

Ukridge, Psmith, Mulliner and Baxter
Even Cat Webster has so much character
Regaling his fans, his characters befriend
And to us, laughter , and joy, always send.


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Rashtrapati Bahavan

The denizens of Delhi have cast their vote and shown the way,

Indians now have a new App downloaded, keeping voter fatigue at bay;


Considerations of caste, creed, sex and religion no longer count,

A clean image, humility and performance on the job alone count;


The age of the political party no more entices, nor does a dynasty,

Use of religion to polarize voters is an attempt which turns nasty;


What counts is the delight and empowerment of the common man,

Absence of graft, delegation of powers, with corruption facing a ban;


Transparent political funding, good governance not a myth but a reality,

Tangible returns from the citizens’ franchise, a non-criminal polity;


Better life, time-bound delivery of services, safety on the road and street,

Hopefully, the new government lives up to its promises and does not retreat;


Meer slogans and jingoism would not do, nor skillful media management,

Gone are the days of a rag-tag coalition and an underhand arrangement;


For all other politicos across the country, the writing on the wall is clear,

Be transparent, be sincere, be innovative, and hold the common man dear;


Sixty-seven years after independence, on this Valentine Day,

Mother India has been rewarded with the AAP App bright and gay;


The crucible of democracy has yielded a new ray of hope,

Upholding the torch of the Constitution, in the darkness of ignorance we no longer grope.

(Related Post: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/05/03/a-16-point-agenda-for-the-16th-lok-sabha-of-india

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Other than the topsy-turvy romances of younger couples, P G Wodehouse also regales us with romantic affairs of those who are advanced in age and young at heart. An affection which was discernible in a couple’s younger days – whether declared or otherwise – survives the harsh slings and arrows of life. A chance meeting unearths and rekindles the deep buried embers of love. A well seasoned romance bears fruit. The Valentine Spirit prevails.PGW Man with two left feet

One such couple we get to meet is that of Joe Danby and Aunt Julia, who make an appearance in the story entitled ‘Extricating Young Gussie’ (The Man with two Left Feet). This is how the narrative unfolds.

An inconsiderate Aunt Agatha drags Bertie out of bed ‘in the small hours’ (perhaps around half past eleven in the morning!), much before he has finished his dreamless and sipped his first cup of tea. She is most distressed that her nephew, and Bertie’s cousin Gussie Mannering-Phipps, has lost his head over a ‘creature’ in New York who is on the vaudeville stage.

Bertie recalls the fact that his Aunt Julia, Gussie’s mother, was also a vaudeville artist once. His Uncle Cuthbert saw her first when she was playing pantomime and decided to make her his wife. The family had resisted, but to no avail. Aunt Agatha had then pulled up her socks and groomed her impeccably. Twenty five years later, one could not tell Aunt Julia from a genuine dyed-in-the-wool aristocrat.

Gussie had vaudeville blood in him, and it looked as if he were reverting to type, or whatever they call it.

‘By jove’, I said, for I am interested in this heredity stuff, ‘perhaps the thing is going to be a regular family tradition, like you read about in books – a sort of curse of the Mannering-Phippses, as it were. Perhaps each head of the family’s going to marry into vaudeville for ever and ever. Unto the what-d’you-call-it generation, don’t you know?’

‘Please do not be quite idiotic, Bertie. There is one head of the family who is certainly not going to do it, and that is Gussie. And you are going to America to stop him.’

In New York, Bertie runs into Gussie, now going by the name of ‘George Wilson’. Gussie is determined to win the approval of the father of the girl he loves. The father, one Mr. Joe Danby, used to be a well-known stage artist himself. He would not hear of his daughter marrying anyone who is not in the profession.

Helped by the ‘creature’, Gussie’s first show rolls around. Gussie has stage-fright and starts badly, but halfway through his second song a pretty girl beside Bertie joins in, bucking Gussie up and getting a big round of applause from the audience. It turns out that she is Ray Denison, the girl Gussie loves.Bertie image

Bertie, worried by Gussie’s unwavering affection for Ray, telegraphs Aunt Julia for help. Aunt Julia arrives. Bertie does not explain the situation to her but uses the novel technique of letting her sense the problem of her own. He first takes her to see Gussie’s show. Then he takes her to Ray’s show. Thereafter, they call on the girl’s father.

This is how the scene plays out:

‘Joe!’ cried Aunt Julia, and staggered against the sofa.

For a moment old Danby stared at her, and then his mouth fell open and his eyebrows shot up like rockets.


And then they got hold of each other’s hands and were shaking them till I wondered their arms didn’t come unscrewed.

Between the reunited lovers, back-falls on the stage get discussed. Buns and ham sandwiches offered to Aunt Julia get recalled. Seed-cakes lavished on to her by Joe Danby get fondly recollected. Her singing ‘Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay’ in a double act called ‘Fun in a Tea-Shop’ gets remembered.

Both undergo a transformation which leaves Bertie twiddling his thumbs. Aunt Julia sheds her grande-dame manner completely, blushes, smiles and even giggles. Danby, ‘a cross between a Roman emperor and Napoleon Bonaparte in a bad temper’, behaves like a school boy.

Old Danby made a jump at her, and took her by the shoulders.

‘Come back where you belong, Julie!’ he cried. ‘Your husband is dead, your son’s a pro. Come back! It’s twenty-five years ago, but I haven’t changed. I want you still. I’ve always wanted you. You’ve got to come back, kid, where you belong.’

Aunt Julia gave a sort of gulp and looked at him.

‘Joe!’ she said in a kind of whisper.

‘You’re here kid,’ said Old Danby, huskily. ‘You’ve come back……Twenty-five years!…..You’ve come back and you’re going to stay!’

She pitched forward into her arms, and he caught her.

‘Oh, Joe! Joe! Joe!’ she said. ‘Hold me. Don’t let me go. Take care of me.’

Meeting Gussie soon after, Bertie hears that Julia and Danby are to be married, as are Gussie and Danby’s daughter.

The narrative ends with Bertie receiving a telegram from Aunt Agatha.

‘What is happening? Shall I come over?’

Bertie resolves to avoid England for a long time and responds thus:

‘No, stay where you are. Profession overcrowded.’

When it comes to Cupid’s machinations, age, caste, creed, profession and social status do not really matter. Love may remain dormant for a long time, but can get revived in a jiffy – much like a Psyche getting revived by a Cupid’s kiss!

Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss

Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss

Yet another mature romance we come across in Plum’s works is that of Piggy and Maudie. We get introduced to this couple in ‘Indian Summer of an Uncle’ (Very Good, Jeeves).

Aunt Agatha, eager to protect the family name, plays a spoilsport in both the narratives – ‘Indian Summer of an Uncle’ and ‘Extricating Young Gussie’*. In both cases, she fails, much to the delight of the romantics amongst us.

In both the cases, to escape the fury of an aunt scorned, poor Bertie has to stay away from England for a long time, missing Anatole’s delectable spreads, rave parties and the Drones Club!

*(A century back, this story was first published in The Saturday Evening Post of USA in September 1915).

(Related post: https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/02/04/piggy-maudie-and-a-seasoned-romance)

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Undergrowth and Fungus are just two of the several terms used by Plum to describe beards. There being a positive correlation between beards and melancholy, it follows that a humorist of his stature would be a stout supporter of clean-shaven men.


P.G.Wodehouse, creator of dapper drones like Bertie Wooster (who once wrote an article for Milady’s Boudoir on ‘What the What the Well-Dressed Man is Wearing’) was not a beard lover. His leading men were clean shaven, taking to false beards only in times of crisis.

Writing of his own experiences in a German internment camp during WWII, Wodehouse said:

A lot of us grew beards. Not me. What I felt was that there is surely enough sadness in life without going out of one’s way to increase it by sprouting a spade-shaped beard. I found it a melancholy experience to watch the loved features of some familiar friend becoming day by day less recognizable behind the undergrowth. A few fungus-fanciers looked about as repulsive as it is possible to look, and one felt a gentle pity for the corporal whose duty is was to wake them in the morning. What…

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Time to meet Piggy and Maudie again and wish them a long innings together!


In old age, lust gets mellowed down and wisdom acquires a brighter shade of orange. Holding hands and physicalVeryGoodJeeves contact gets relegated to the background. Instead, common ailments and related medications and therapies rule the roost. At times, the lining of the stomach paves the way for a couple to start sharing the trials and tribulations of life together. One of the stories where P G Wodehouse puts this across succinctly is the one titled ‘Indian Summer of an Uncle.’

Uncle George is unduly attached to the pleasures of the table. The lining of his stomach is no longer in a good shape. Twice a year, his liver lodges a formal protest and he goes off to Harrogate or Carlsbad for some rest and recuperation.

He is contemplating a matrimonial alliance with a much younger Miss Rhoda Platt who happens to be a waitress at his club. Jeeves…

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All of us strive for perfection. Achieving and maintaining a state of perfect health is a primary concern for many amongst us. There are various kinds of ‘pathies’ which are on offer to help us to do this. But the real help could also be sourced from within us. The faith we have. The willpower we exercise. The actions we take to help our bodies heal themselves. We could strive to be our own doctors.

On one of our luckier days when we happen to be in front of the idiot box, or when the latest internet-savvy gizmo is Health Monarch femalenestling in our palms, we are apt to run into a beautiful documentary which captures the birth of a Monarch butterfly. The radical transformation – from an egg to a caterpillar, then into a chrysalis, and finally into the Monarch butterfly – leaves us somewhat awe-struck and mesmerised. The universe appears to have programmed all living beings to strive to attain a state of perfection, balance and harmony.

When we speak of perfection, most of us refer to our external appearances, actions or conditions. Better inter-personal relations. Better status in society. Better harmony with our environment. Better compliance with laws, rules and regulations. Basically, we envisage a better, wealthier, happier and more humane kind of living.

The harsh slings and arrows of life make us aware of something we invariably take for granted – our physical selves. Those amongst us who have faced a medical crisis of some kind would often be found seeking perfection of the physical being through all the means available.

A rainbow of choices

We would be found tapping into the resources of the allopathic stream which offers diagnostic tools of high standards.Doctors Day We would be spell-bound at the capacity of this stream of medicine to look at the universe within us in a highly mechanical manner. We would be amazed at the extent of division of various organs which function within its complex confines. A cardiologist would declare that our heart continues to beat in a rhythmic manner befitting a piece of classical music. A neurologist would put us under a scanner and tell us that our brain is firing on all its twelve cylinders. A gastroenterologist would put our digestive system under the microscope and assure us that it is discharging its assigned functions in a prompt and regular manner.

Nevertheless, we would still be feeling tired and exhausted and, well, not up to the mark when it comes to physical fitness. As patients, we would then be told of the virtue of psycho-somatic diseases, with broad hints that we could be suffering from some such unidentifiable ailment. Oh, the feeling of smug satisfaction we derive when being told that we appear to suffer from some mysterious disease which the scientists of today are yet to properly catalogue and name, let alone devise a treatment protocol for!

To some of us, the relatively older system of homoeopathy may sound better. We would find that it is more intuitiveHealth Hahnemann in nature. The medications are milder, with lesser side-effects. These might temporarily increase the severity of our symptoms, thereby indicating that a real cure is on its way. After a detailed one-to-one with the physician, we would be back to our ‘popping-the-pill’ routine.

Same goes for the Ayurvedic or Unani streams of healing. The physician would check our pulse and arrive at the disharmony in our bodies. Dietary restrictions would need to be followed.

Our pursuit of perfection does not end here. A brief stint at a health centre run on the principles of yoga, meditation and naturopathy might revitalise our physical and mental systems and show us the way to get out of our ‘pop-the-pill’ syndrome. The focus of this approach is on detoxifying the body and also training us to give up the luxury of indulging our taste-buds. Overall, it brings us closer to Mother Nature, a factor which is sorely missed by those of us who live in highly congested urban settings.

Sure enough, we enjoy the more holistic way of treatment offered under the alternate streams of medicine. TheseHealth Dhanvantari treat us as a composite whole of the body-mind-vital and not merely as an assembly of several parts which continue to function in their individual isolated glory.

We try our hands at flower therapy, colour therapy, magneto-therapy, acupuncture, acupressure, and several others. When it comes to healing, we have a wide range of choices of systems to choose from. Many of us try to take an integral approach, using the best treatments from diverse streams of medicine. We do it based on the faith we have in the physician as well as in the medicine. This plays a crucial role in the healing process.

Building up our inner resilience

When we push ourselves to do something we essentially like doing, we do not get tired. The body and the mind do not revolt. Instead, they bask in the inner glow of satisfaction and happiness. Scientists would call it ‘eustress.’

However, most of the times, we experience distress. We face situations in life which do not allow us to exercise an option of either ‘fight’ or ‘flight.’ Stress built up over a long time tends to be disastrous. The good news is that if stress is directly proportional to external factors, it is also inversely proportional to our internal resilience. Some people tend to take an event very lightly. For others, the same event could be highly demoralising. It depends on how strong we are from within.

How do we build up inner resilience? How do we achieve a better level of harmony between our inner and outer selves and between our heads and our hearts?

The Divine within us can guide us in this respect. If we were to live in harmony with nature, it would help. If we could Technology MEDITATION-ENTREPRENEUR-SUCCEEDchange our dietary habits, we could enjoy better well-being. If we were to control our negative emotions and live only in pure and positive ones, our cells would get healthier. If we smile, it would take away a lot of stress from our poisoned systems. If we feel a deep sense of gratitude within us – say, for simply being alive – positive vibes would generate the soft glow of self-fulfilment inside us, helping us to recover earlier. We would radiate happiness all around us.

The mind exercises a great deal of control over our body. It is surely within our powers to train it to give a positive message to the diseased cells within us. This, compounded with faith in the remedy, could work miracles.

What happens if we fail in our attempts, one might well ask. Not to despair. One, no effort goes waste. Perhaps, we shall not suffer as much as we might have done had we continued in our state of blissful ignorance. Two, the purpose of our birth might just be to reduce human suffering. We might end up bringing succour to others who suffer from a similar ailment. Three, by offering ourselves as a guinea pig and a living human laboratory, we might make a modest contribution towards advancing the knowledge about a particular disease afflicting mankind.

Of Nature, nurture and niftiness

As patients, we aim to gain two kinds of freedoms – freedom from the ailment and freedom from the remedy. How doFeatured Image -- 1211 we become and remain independent of all kinds of doctors and healing systems? Can we become our own doctors?

What we are and what we shall become is only controlled by our actions. The science of epigenetics shows that genes are not only inherited and transferred to our progeny; these also get altered by our actions and the environment. It is not only about what Nature has provided us with. It is also about how we have been nurtured and how clever we are in the actions that we take.

We can will ourselves to heal faster. We can open up ourselves and tap into the infinite energy swirling about in the universe. We could draw a lot of inspiration this way. Our intuitive faculties also come into play and help us in gaining freedom from ailments as also from medications. The potential of our bodies and minds can be tapped better.

The change has to come from within us – from the core of our psychic being. The aspiration has to be genuine. It hasHealth Monarch_Male to permeate all our thought processes and even our actions. A constant remembrance of the divine power within us can be the panacea for all our ailments – a key to achieving perfect health.

In ‘Gitanjali’, Rabindranath Tagore proposes: “Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection (1)”. Even though ‘perfection’ may not be attainable in reality, what matters is the ‘tireless striving’, which could well prove to be a reward in itself. ‘Perfection’, like happiness, need not be a station one arrives at, but a mode of travel, making the journey interesting and worthwhile.


1. Tagore Rabindranath. Tagore for You. 3rd ed. Kolkata: Deep Prakashan; 2011, p. 45.

(Published in NAMAH, the Journal of Integral Health, Vol 22, Issue 4, dated the 15th of January, 2015)

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Souffles and spades

All residents of Plumsville face a difficult choice. Does it make sense to view Plum’s narratives through the eyes of the heart? Or, should one use the mind instead and subject his brilliant works to a pitiless analysis?
Here is a thought-provoking post from Plumtopia which endeavours to address this dilemma.


‘You don’t analyse such sunlit perfection, you just bask in its warmth and splendor.’

Stephen Fry

Most Wodehouse readers will be familiar with this quotation, printed on thousands of new editions, and quoted ad nauseam by reviewers and fans alike. Unfortunately it is sometimes bandied about to support the argument that Wodehouse and his work ought not be discussed — that Mr Fry has spoken and we, mere readers, should restrict ourselves to spouting quotations (or better, dignified silence). As someone who blogs about Wodehouse, I naturally take a different view. Nor am I convinced that this is what Stephen Fry meant.

The quotation comes from Fry’s introduction to What Ho! The best of P.G. Wodehouse (republished in The Independent). Fry suggests the ‘miraculous verbal felicities’ of Wodehouse’s writing are best experienced by reading his work. No attempt to explain or analyse the mechanics of Wodehouse’s prose style…

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Often, we hear that age is a mere number,
But also wonder if it makes us dumb and dumber;
Unless proper and timely steps are taken through channels right,
The chances of our becoming dull happen to be bright.


The body needs all the care and affection it can get,
The mind needs to be kept active, not to forget;
The soul needs nourishment of a different kind,
Otherwise it is left in torment and in a bind.


The zeal of youth makes us leap light-heartedly into traps,
The spirit of adventure keeps us wandering off the known maps;
Romantics at heart, fragile in maturity, we jump at gold coins with strings attached,
We behave like zombies, often getting disappointed over chickens un-hatched.


When advanced in age, our optimism fades, no longer making the spirits lift,
A feeling grows that our guardian angels no longer care to bear a gift;
Our triumphs are many, but all sound mellowed and get under-rated,
The aged machinery creaks, a depression often seeps in unabated.


Each day, we shudder to look at a stranger in the mirror,
With brittle bones, fuzzy brains and a heart which is all of a twitter;
Different organs protest, the lining of the stomach seeks our regular attention,
Willing to try any system of medicine, keeping fit being the mere intention.


The mellow wisdom of advancing age we often forget to treat as an asset,
Giving back to society and relishing an inner glow before we walk into the sunset;
Doing what we always dreamed of doing does bring in a wholesome joy,
Listening to the body, nourishing it with a healthy diet, is the right ploy.


The world is still waiting with open arms, to be explored by us,
Glorious sunsets, resplendent seashores and deep gorges beckon us;
Sunshine eager to bathe us, gentle breeze to caress our wrinkled face,
River rapids and waterfalls aspire to spray us with natural grace.


Sleeping under the canopy of a star-studded sky on quiet nights,
The moon showering us with its soft azure rays with full might;
The sweet fragrance of flowers missed on the tortuous highway of life,
Await our attention in a lovely phase with minimum strife.


Time to take it easy and have a circle of friends around,
A tissue restorative on one side, a Plum book on the other, and our joy is unbound;
Soaking in the strains of soothing music and catching up on a classic movie,
An outpouring of creative juices, some light exercise, and life is groovy.


Basking in the inner glow of satisfaction, enjoying a deep sense of fulfillment,
For having crossed major landmarks of our lives on this firmament;
Oh, the freedom of soaring at will, free of the sap of life’s intricate bee-hives,
Pursuing our hobbies and passions dreamed of all through our lives.


Wondering if we can leave behind some marks on the shifting sands of time,
Motivating the coming generations to aspire beyond a penny and a dime;
Living the values, ethics, norms and beliefs we expect them to follow,
Always feeling positive, never believing that we lived our lives hollow.


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