Grab the First OPPORTUNITY

A young man wished to marry the farmer's beautiful daughter. He went to the farmer to ask his permission....

The farmer looked at him and said, "Son, go stand out in that field.

I'm going to release three bulls, one at a time. If you can catch the tail of any one of the three bulls, you can marry my daughter."

The young man stood in the field awaiting the first bull. The barn door opened and out came the biggest, meanest looking bull he had ever seen.

He decided that one of the next bulls had to be a better choice than this one, so he ran over to the side and let the bull pass through.

The barn door opened again. Unbelievable. He had never seen anything so big and fierce in his life.

It stood pawing the ground, it eyed him. Whatever the next bull was like, it had to be a better choice than this one he thought.

He ran to the fence and let the bull pass through.

The door opened a third time. A smile came across his face. This was the weakest bull he had ever seen. This one was his bull, he said to himself.

As the bull came running by, he positioned himself just right and jumped at just the exact moment. He threw his hands to grab.....

But alas.... The bull had no tail.

There is nothing called perfect opportunity. Grab the first opportunity which comes to you.

Do not wait or expect the better ones to come again.

You might have to wait for entire life...

A young man wished to marry the farmer's beautiful daughter. He went to the farmer to ask his permission....

The farmer looked at him and said, "Son, go stand out in that field.

I'm going to release three bulls, one at a time. If you can catch the tail of any one of the three bulls, you can marry my daughter."

The young man stood in the field awaiting the first bull. The barn door opened and out came the biggest, meanest looking bull he had ever seen.

He decided that one of the next bulls had to be a better choice than this one, so he ran over to the side and let the bull pass through.

The barn door opened again. Unbelievable. He had never seen anything so big and fierce in his life.

It stood pawing the ground, it eyed him. Whatever the next bull was like, it had to be a better choice than this one he thought.

He ran to the fence and let the bull pass through.

The door opened a third time. A smile came across his face. This was the weakest bull he had ever seen. This one was his bull, he said to himself.

As the bull came running by, he positioned himself just right and jumped at just the exact moment. He threw his hands to grab.....

But alas.... The bull had no tail.

There is nothing called perfect opportunity. Grab the first opportunity which comes to you.

Do not wait or expect the better ones to come again.

You might have to wait for entire life...

Telangana -- Kavithvamu

పోరాడితె పోయేదేమి లేదు, బానిస సంకెళ్ళు తప్ప...
పోరాడితె ఒరిగేదీ ఎమి లేదు, ఒక్క తెలంగాణ తప్ప...

తల్లి కాదు తను మరి సవతి తల్లి,
విపరీతమా, మరి వైపరిత్యమా పక్షపాత ప్రేమ ప్రాతిపదికం..

అన్నలు కాదు వారు మరి మా దాయాదులు,
దుర్మార్గమా, మరి పైత్యమా ఈ పైశాచికం..

తమ్ముడి గుండె తెలుసునా నీకు,
మరి గుండె చీల్చుదువేల, సమైక్యత కాదా నీ కుట్రకు సాకు..

తెలంగాణమనివార్యమనీ నీకు తెలుసు, అత్యవసరమనీ తెలుసు
చేతకాదనుకోకు, చేయలేమనుకోకు, తీసుకోకు మంచితనాన్ని అలుసు..

ప్రభవించిన కొత్త తరం చైతన్యం చూడు,
విప్లవం వెనక దాగున్నది కుట్ర కాదు మరది కన్నీళ్ళ తడి గొంతుక..
తెలంగాణ తల్లి గుండె కోత..

అర్దం లేని ఆరాటం చూడు,
కల్లబొల్లి మాటలవి. వ్యాపారం, రాజకీయం కలిసిన దుర్మార్గపు అరమరిక..
సమైక్యత పేరుతొ తమ్మునికి పెడుతున్న వెత..

ఎందుకు కావాలి సమైక్యాంధ్ర?
ఎందుకు రావాలి తెలంగాణ?
కారణాలు బేరీజు వెయ్యి మరి ..
ప్రతిష్ట కాదు మరది మా అస్తిత్వ పోరాటం!

బలహీనమయ్యెనా నీ ఆత్మ గౌరవం,
నా చేతికి సంకెళ్ళు తెంచిన?
బలపడెనా మరది నా రెక్కలు తెంచి, నా చేతులు నరికి, నన్ను ఉరేసిన?
సరె,
తీసుకో అన్నా,
కాని కొన్ని షరతులు..

నా బతుకమ్మని పాతెయ్యి,
నా విద్యార్థి చేతుల నరికెయ్యి,
నా అరవయ్యేళ్ళ అర్ధ ప్రాజెక్టులని కూల్చెయ్యి..
నా రైతులందరికి దగ్గరుండి ఇంటికొక్క పురుగుల మందు పంచు..
లెక్క కాదు నీకది ఎన్నికల్ల ఎన్ని వందలు పంచుంటావులే..
నా నిరుద్యోగులకొక ఉరితాడు కొనియ్యి..
నా తెలంగాణ విలేఖరుల, న్యాయవాదుల గొంతుల కొయ్యి..
నా ఆడపడుచుల బొట్టు చెరచి, బొందపెట్టు..
నా శ్రామికుల కాళ్ళు నరుకు,
నా కన్నతండ్రి తల అడ్డంగ నరికెయ్యి..
మా అమ్మ గుండెల మీద తన్ను..
కంటి చూపుతో నా పల్లెల తగులబెట్టు..


నువ్వు కట్టిన కోట కింద మరి నా సమాధి తెలంగాణ పాట పాడుతుంది..
నీ ఇంటి చుట్టు పూచిన రెల్లు పూలు తెలంగాణ అమరవీరుల చెమట వాసనలు వెదజల్లుతాయి...
మా క్రిష్నమ్మ మా రక్తాన్ని మోసుకొస్తుంది మీ దగ్గరకు..

యేలుకో వల్లకాడు చేసి యేలుకో..
చాటి చెప్పు నీ జాతి గొప్పదనాన్ని మా శవాలమీద విజయగర్వంతో..
మా గుండెల్ల పాతు నీ తెలుగు జాతి సమైక్య ఝండా..
నీదే అన్న తెలంగాణ నీదె, నీ జాతి నీదె, నీ బలం నీదె,
నీ అధికారం, ఆధిపత్యం, వ్యాపారం, రాజకీయం.. అన్నీ నీవె..

చేస్తావ మరి..
మాటియ్యన్నా

I hate exams -- Poem

Oh ! My Dear Examination .
I Have No Preparation Kindly Tell Me What To Do
You Are Early While Im Late
And Daily Im Loosing Weight.
My Heart Is Sinking With Fear.
Oh ! My Dear Examination .
You Demand Concentration.
English Is Composition.
Mathematics Is Calculation.
Geography Is Population.
Economics Is Production.
Chemistry Is Preparation .
Oh ! My Dear Examination .
You Are Botheration.
To The Younger Generation
We Will Send You And Application
To The Minister Of Education
To Abolish Examination.

The Real Love -- Short Story

A girl and a boy were on a motorcycle, speeding through the night. They loved each other a lot…..

Girl: ”slow down a little.. I’m scared..”

Boy: “No, it’s so fun..”

Girl: “please..it’s so scary..”

Boy: “Then say that you love me..”

Girl: “Fine..I love you..can you slow down now?”

Boy: “Give me a big hug..”

The girl gave him a big hug.

Girl: “Now can you slow down?”

Boy: “Can you take off my helmet and put it on? It’s uncomfortable and it’s           bothering me while i ride.”

The next day, there was a story in the newspaper. A motorcycle had crashed into a building because its brakes were broken. There were two people on the motorcycle, of which one died, and the other had survived…

The guy knew that the brakes were broken.He didn’t want to let the girl know, because he knew that the girl would have gotten scared. Instead, he was told the last time that she loved him,got a hug from her, put his helmet on her so that she can live,and die himself…

I Remember You As You Were -- Poem

I remember you as you were in the last autumn. 

You were the grey beret and the still heart.

In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.

And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

Clasping my arms like a climbing plant

the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.

Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.

Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.

I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:

Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house

Towards which my deep longings migrated

And my kisses fell, happy as embers.

Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:

Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!

Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.

Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.

The Most Beautiful Flower -- Poem

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read

Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree

Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown 

For the world was intent on dragging me down. 

And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,

A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.

He stood right before me with his head tilted down 

And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!" 

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, 

With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light. 

Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,

I faked a small smile and then shifted away. 

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side

And placed the flower to his nose 

And declared with overacted surprise, 

"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.

That's why I picked it; here, it's for you." 

The weed before me was dying or dead. 

No vibrant colors: orange, yellow or red.

But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave. 

So I reached for the flower and replied. "Just what I need." 

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand, 

He held it mid-air without reason or plan. 

It was then that I noticed for the very first time 

That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind. 

I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun 

As I thanked him for picking the very best one. 

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see 

The problem was not with the world; the problem was me. 

And for all of those times I myself had been blind, 

I vowed to see the beauty in life,

And appreciate every second that's mine. 

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose