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Mallika Achuthan Menon


In between the birth and death
Life is flowing like a river
We are fine drawn lines on water
The lines vanishing in a wink.
At times I feel we are puppets
And are manipulated by
an unseen puppeteer, the Almighty.
The string holder is He Himself
and when He sets the strings in motion
We, the puppets, move ahead
to act well in this predestined play.
Thus we complete our own karma
in this span of life itself.
Our own good and bad deeds both
unknowingly become our friends.
We care for only our own happiness
As all are selfish to the core always.
Lying, cheating, hurting become mutual
As they are usual rituals for each one here.
Death always acts like a senseless joker
can intervene anywhere anytime!
we forget this fact conveniently.
When its shadow casts on us
no more high or low in class
All are equal then and there.


Submitted: Monday, August 25, 2014

Topic of this poem: art

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  • Freshman - 2,280 Points Pintu Mahakul (10/5/2014 1:12:00 AM)

    In between birth and death hanging the life. Nicely expressed about life. Beautiful life poem ever shared on this desk. Nice, Nice. (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 2,424 Points Somanathan Iyer (9/1/2014 6:01:00 AM)

    As long illusion enthralls our wisdom, we keeping moving blindly with all sorts of materialistic qualities. A nice poem well expressed! (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 273 Points Sekharan Pookkat (8/29/2014 10:58:00 AM)

    there is a saying- nothing in this world is mine- (ethem na mama) There are some people who live for others and sacrifice their life for the cause of others. (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,203 Points Jacqueline Nash (8/28/2014 2:44:00 PM)

    Some very true words Mallika, I'd like to think there are people that do care about others and are not completely selfish, but yes, we are all equal in death. Good poem, thank you. (Report) Reply

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