• ruthra_ 9w

    Marina shores echoes not language nor religion

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    My Unperfected story

    Let me tell you my story ,
    I grew in Chennai,
    My family!
    Raised in a village ,
    I did love fresh air ,
    City sounds were fair ,
    Indeed ,
    India is a mixture ,
    That’s our main feature ,
    I grew up Hindu school ,
    Half life life went with prayer ,
    Rest half life ,
    I jumped to a Christian school ,
    There too we had prayers ,
    Still I had lot of friends,
    One thing !
    I hated
    Broke my head ,
    My teacher is a Christian ,
    She’s a lady of work ethics ,
    Thanks to her ,
    I cleared my mess ,
    Then I studied medicine,
    Damn I struggled
    And jugged ,
    Not always story is good ,
    At eighteen
    Middle of my college I fell sick ,
    And weak
    I wanted to get my license,
    Sadly I lost my taste sense ,
    I lost my pace
    Drugs !
    Ruined my face ,
    I had a best friend ,
    Purdah of beauty ,
    At times moody ,
    When I broke ,
    She helped to awoke,
    She did pray ,
    Time went on,
    My college days ,
    Numbered ,
    My teacher again helped ,
    She is Christian
    She did pray for my exams ,
    My mother loved temples ,
    She is the best I could ask ,
    My special heart glass ,
    We went to temples ,
    I loved the temple bells,
    And church bells,
    The story at its end ,
    What am I saying is ,
    I have a Muslim friend ,
    Christian teacher ,
    Hindu parents ,
    That’s my story ,
    It’s not the religion,
    Or the caste
    They prayed different places,
    Still one thing mingled,
    Was their love ,
    We have uniqueness...
    Not differences ,
    Let’s bends this disorder...
    Bring love orders ......