Natural mercy from the sea!

- Internet Poetry - Anil Chawda

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Suddenly someone met me on the way

Ever wonder why?

We say that the sea is in waves

Is the mercy of nature from above.

We put it in the side of a torn pocket

Bursting merry-go-round,

It's like standing alone in a fair

Touches me every day,

In a locker that cannot be locked

Our treasure is in full swing.

Tears come and go in the eyes

Not getting wet inside,

Keeps track of fluctuations

No matter the ocean,

The sun rises and sets

The sky is above me ...

- Dhruv Bhatt

Dhruva Bhatt's pen has flourished in both prose and verse. A novels like 'Tattvamasi', 'Samudrantike', 'Akupar' have found a prominent place in the haiya of Gujarati literary lovers, while 'Gai Tenan Geet' has also flourished by immersing itself in rhythm with fakamasti. The tone of despair is seldom seen in his poetry. He is the creator of bliss. The above poem gives a complete proof of this.

One man asks another, 'Why?' So soon that soggy will open his mouth and say, 'Not like you!' The other person also responds with the same despair, 'Then you come in my place,' both of them are bursting coconuts of despair on each other under the pretext of asking for information. No one is happy with their condition. Or don't want to say we're fine. All we have to do is grind the seeds of sorrow. The whole world is happy except for himself in the bell of time. I didn't get what the other person got. Flowers rained on others and water on my head! We are assuming such and such mountains of sorrow on our own head and we are also living in it.

Then Dhruv Bhatt says something strange. The protagonist of his poem is a source of joy. Suddenly someone meets him on the road and asks, "Brother, how are you?" The colors of nature's mercy flow. It has no heaps of wealth, no palaces, no gold mines or big identities. It just has its own proportions. Ojas of the soul. The pocket is torn, but the hips are joined. There is a loss of wealth, but no loss of mind. Even in the midst of a torn pocket, the joys of life are preserved. The poet is sitting with the treasure of life in such a small box that the lock seems too big. In such bliss, who can make a good man sad?

But we are always interested in Bijananda. Others are like that and I don't. Not to struggle and to succeed. Even a hero remains a stone without being rubbed, even though we understand so much truth, we do not rub. We are all sitting with the attitude of being white without getting hurt. Nothing without conflict. Even sprouts sprouting from the seed have to be removed by removing the soil. Even a newborn bird has to break the cocoon to come out of the egg. You have to work hard to flutter your wings.

Even in the smallest of problems, we are overwhelmed. In this sea of ​​tears we also sink the ship of hope. We understand the word of life only through tears. If we understand life only with the salinity of tears, then where can we get the greenest mall of happiness? Nothing grows in the saline layer. The puddles keep track of the water filling and drying. The ocean is not yours. Let him roar in his own fun. The roof is happy only when there is a hurricane that understands the sky. What to do with such a roof-like attitude? Even the sun will go down in the evening, but the sky will remain the same. We have to find the sky of our happiness.

If you want, you too can be in the 'sea wave' like Dhruv Bhatt's poem, and sing like Takhtdan Rohadia ...

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To be merry, to be merry, to be merry re ...

In search of the unfathomable Alakh Dhani ...

The blackness of the black water rips through the water,

Aabh Dhara Beach played now, the game is missing ..

When this wave comes, Lakhlakh Ratnakar will continue to be robbed ...

Lay lage toy bale nai eva kaalja kitha re,

Dariyo kharo ne virda mitho dakhala didha re,

Life is not a quarrel, life is like living ...

- Takhtdan Rohadia 'Dan Algari'