A PICTURE SPEAKS WHEN WORDS FAIL TO…
Some times it is not about the experience but about the stature,
Sometimes it is more about the history and it’s clatter,
Sometimes it is not about the buzz you create,
Sometimes it is more about how quite you remain
Sometimes it is not about how tall you stand
Sometimes it is more about how long you stand!
The hall standing like the surreal echelon,
The crown shimmering like the abstruse neon,
Accolade as the hall of the town,
In it’s history, cache the king and crown,
Now it’s much more about the sagacity of the city,
The pearls of crown, sheen the varsity!
Ramsagar Trek, India
Barista enhances the class of bean,
The destiny to make ahead, wishing from teen.
Stalwart is just the phase of pallbearer,
Lancing to kiss as a bearer.
Albert Hall, Jaipur, India
The illusion or dream of adolescence,
Destined to zenith or in verge of penance.
The smile, the laugh, the voyage to dream,
From a struggler to the meticulous beam.
A craze which incorporated to be the one,
The Sparks of echelon is like the son of sun.
Statue of Unity, Gujarat, India
Kowtow the man who leads from front,
From the germination to the eclipse frond.
Riding on beacon like the king of palace,
The leader of atrocious leading race.
Hails from bottom to the crown,
Lifting on the bridge which follows up & down.
Belling like the phoenix wing,
Moving between the swish of swing.
Ramping the lid to spark the fire,
Encroaching the naive love from the ire.
Pacing the beats to lead the wave, hard from core but smile like suave.
Nationalist or the biased nationalist does the favor,
But surely awarded by the mix of flavor.
Finally, the pace of sword,
From the stall to the heartiest lord.
Jaipur, India
Passing through the Midas never resides to allure,
Falling down is like the shower which has to be pure.
Brain, thinking and sieving to touch the need,
Paying the blood for the thought I creed.
Running through the bark for the dream,
Lying with the pearl for the eclectic sheen.
Beacon craving the veil of ordeal,
Admiring the bow, as it aficionado the range of feel.
Chittorgarh Fort, Rajasthan, India
They stood tall, they remain tall,
They are the pride, who died but did not fall,
They fought the battles, they lifted the baton,
They kept the moustaches like the craton,
They were the pillar, who lifted the forts,
Had a smile while facing the swords.
Stockholm City Hall
The Stockholm city hall or the golden hall,
Where the nobility is celebrated like a ball,
Every year the stage is set to accolade,
To honor the best of date.
A medallion, a game changer, the best in world,
Shining like the soothing emerald.
The palaces holds the odyssey of human class,
Sometimes the ruler rules the heart and mass,
Sometimes it shares more about swords and war,
Sometimes it glares the peace to near and far.
The legacy to believe, the wisdom to carry,
Crest at pinnacle, always high, handsome and vary,
The beautiful lightnings in the pink city,
The museum stood tall in war and amity.
History has gifted the glory in it’s shell,
From the pierce of magnificence to a adoring bell,
Sometimes lights bares out the rarity,
Our ancestors led this charismatic verity.
