The game of Chess – The Times of India Blog


Jackals come to my pyre but dont weep;Bake your cakes and enjoy sound sleep;I am not a vote bank that sound and blow;I am an innocent soul whose pyre glow.I am a ripened life in gloomy sunlight,I am a gentle and calm soul bright,I am a gentle bird in muddled game,I am a bright star that shines but no fame.

I am a pyre with blown up many a dream,Come and warm yourself but dont grieve,When you read these lines at dawn hush,I will be in succumb tally made in rush.Defend your wickets against cruel bowlers,It is not the fire crackers, but dream howlers

Views expressed above are the author's own.


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The game of Chess - The Times of India Blog

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