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Rhymes of Bharat
The world is a family
The world is a family, we are one,
Beneath the same bright, shining sun.
Who is yours, and who is mine?
All are part of love divine.
No "yours" or "mine," no chains or walls,
For every being, a loving heart calls.
"You are mine, and they stand apart,"
Such small thoughts never fill our hearts.
No "me" or "you," no walls to build,
With love and joy, the world is filled.
With open arms and smiles so bright,
We keep the world forever light.
Speak the truth
Speak the truth,
and speak it kind,
Let gentle words
fill your mind.
Truth that hurts,
we need not say,
But lies, my dear,
we keep away.
Words like flowers,
soft and sweet,
Heal each heart
you chance to meet.
In truth and love,
we stand so tall,
This is dharma,
for one and all.
The art of bowing
In the garden, a fruitful tree,
Bows down low, so humbly.
But dry sticks, stiff and tall,
Never bend, they might just fall.
Little ones, look and see,
How good people should be.
Wise hearts bow with love so kind,
Learning more with an open mind.
Bow with a smile, and learn each day,
With humble hearts, we find our way.
A Student's Path
A student's path, like ancient lore,
Is filled with virtues to explore.
Like a crow, they never quit,
Focused like a crane, bit by bit.
Sleep light as a dog, they stay,
Eating little, active each day.
Leaving home comforts behind,
Knowledge alone, they seek to find.
The book friend
O dear child, come close and see,
I'm your friend, as true can be.
In times of joy, in times of fear,
I'll guide your path, always near.
Keep me safe, don't let me tear,
From oil or water, handle with care.
My pages love your gentle touch,
Protect my binding, love me much.
In wise hands, I wish to stay,
To fools, never let me go astray.
Together we'll learn, explore, and know,
With every page, our minds will grow.
The art of giving
​​Rivers flow with water clear,
Not for them, but all who’re near,
Trees bear fruits, so sweet and fine,
Not for them, but yours and mine.
Clouds pour rain on fields below,
Helping crops and plants to grow,
Giving life, they seek no gain,
Teaching us to do the same.
Little hearts, learn this art,
Give with love, from the start,
For a life of love-filled living,
Is found in the art of giving.
Mother and Motherland
​
Rama told to Lakshmana, dear,
"Golden Lanka, I don't hold near.
Mother and motherland, so grand,
Are dearer than heaven's own land."
Wherever you go, near or far,
Rama's words, your guiding star.
No one like mother, warm with grace,
No place like our beloved birthplace.
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