Thursday, December 31, 2009

BREATHTAKING

if there is one place that can inspire instant poetry in me it is rural Bengal. swami vivekananda has mentioned it in his travelogues, Tagore has immortalised theses places through his poems and prose, jibonanondo das has written the graceful and lyrical poem,"oi dhanshiritir tire".... the list is endless. yet, nothing actually compares to the beauty that is inherent in rural areas of Bengal. no disrespect intended to the great writers of Bengal, but no language can produce words lucid enough to capture the glory of nature in its resplendent best. i have always felt that if there is one thing on earth that can make me forget all else and just be at peace with myself, all ambitions, dreams and rat race forgotten, its the calm serenity of narure, its the ennervating fury of raging nature, its the boundless passion and seamless synergy of nature.

this year i had no hopes of getting leave and i was making do with small weekend trips in the sahyadri hills in and around mumbai. they are also one of the most pristine spots in maharashtra. however, i finally managed to pluck up the courage to ask for leave, and voila, i got it! for 10 staight days too. so, i went staright home and then proceeded to laze away to glory for if there is one place where you are king no matter how big and idiot you are, it home. mom kept stuffing me like a pig being fattened for slaughter on christmas day. all my trousers started getting tight after a mere two days. yet, my mom's cheif accusation remained that i do not have sufficient food. let me tell you something about bengali moms. they feel the fatter their kids are the better they look to the rest of the world. the word healthy has a completely different meaning in their vocabulary. when i was in academy and at the prime of my health, i was regulalrly chided by all moms around me to be weak and thin. so, when they give you food you are supposed to finish off the whole plate and ask for another plateful.

even as these shenanigans were on, we decided to go on a trip to shantiniketan, this being the time for poush mela and Tagore's birthday. for all you uninitiated, Rabindranath Tagore happens to be the poetry that runs through the veins of bengalis all over the world, at least till my generation. he built a small village called shantiniketan where he made a model of society should be in his eyes. its was sans all trappings of vulgar wealth, only th beauty of nature and man harmoninsing. he also built an university called vishwabharati, which is still one of bengal's premier institutes. so this time of the year is very special for all bengalis and a huge mela is celebrated in shantiniketan in memory of Tagore. its called the poush mela.

the first installment of my travelogue shall come up in my next blog. before i leave, here is an interesting thought.i mentioned in my previos blog that i will highliht the basic differences among men and women. so, why do men join mathematics for higher studies and women join biology? i know that there are some exceptions, but they just go to prove the rule. any interesting observations?

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

WOEMEN

hi guys, i am aback and this tym i plan to write with vengeance. i have finally found out what should be the best underlying theme for my blog.. i mean that it was rather haphazard over the last few times and if i do plan to write consistently it needs to have an underlying theme. guess what? my underlying theme is going to be women!! now i know that there are just too many blogs around that do the same thing.. write about women. blogs by women about what they want and by men by stating women, sex and the rest. however, i have decided to this with a difference. i plan to write this as an ongoing travelogue of my life and my experiences with women.. i must say that i do not have as much experience in bed as most men do. so that definitely will not be the highlight of my blog, although i will care to mention a few pointers here and there.but the most important thing to remember here is that women are enigmatic creatures to most of us men. we do not understand what they want, and most of the tyms they do not know what they want either. so, the secret is to visualise what they visualise, to think the way that they do and to get into the very minds of women no matter what the situation is. i know that every woman is different and no two women are exactly the same and all that crap. come on! be realistic. do you really believe that? i mean almost all of them go through the same girly magazines and pick up tips from them. so, chances are, that 9 times out of 10 they will behave in the exact same way.

i know that most of us who are in love feel that the one they love can do no wrong. like archana likes to say,"all of us in love either knowingly or unknowingly ignore all that we see as flaws in our lovers." well that might be the case with most of you, and that certainly was the case with me. so, just a word of precaution to all you guys madly smitten by the love bug, BEWARE!!! its not that the women you love are monsters, its just their nature to manipulate you and even the most tomboyish of them are doing it, whether they do it conciously or otherwise. the watchword in this case is CONSTANT VIGILANCE. its what they do and its what you need to do. no matter what you do think and then do. for in everything that you do they shall be searching for certain premeditated qualities, husband-like or boyfriend-like. so even as i write this blog i shall leave behind certain pointers that you may well find useful in the course of your love life. i do not profess to be a love guru, only someone wise to the wiles of woemen. so before you have had your first break-up get up and get wise. ITS HIGH TIME.

before i leave you i would like to leave with this parting shot. why is it in popular culture that so often fun is made out of men's butts yet sexy is what is attributed to women's butts? let me know if there are any plausible answers and i shall see you soon.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Beneath the coupled gold faints the painless catalog.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

THAT MAN CALLED MSD

That man called Mahendra Singh Dhoni, he’s a phenomenon in a cricket crazy India. He leads the cricket team and the hopes of a billion Indians. No matter what the boxers, shooters, footballers, golfers, tennis players, squash players, badminton players or any of the rest of the players of any other game do, cricket still rules the spirit of Indians like nothing else. They are speaking of TRPs dropping in cricket games and the players not performing well enough, but the very fact that there is such a lot of speculation going around, proves the fact. We have the cricketers bagging as many sponsors as any Bollywood star. Just the other day, Dhoni was in Mumbai, at some place that I’m not allowed to reveal and doing something that I’m not allowed reveal (again). Archana, who happens to know him, invited me to this undisclosed location. I took up invitation with glee as its not everyday that you get to meet someone like MSD. Besides, I wanted to meet Archana as well (as if! ). So here is one pic of that memorable day. By the way, for all it matters, all those journalists ahev been feeding us crap. He’s a really nice guy.

In case you are wondering who that kid is, NOT mine!! Its always safer to make that clear at the onset. He’s a friend though and a great kid. His name is Akash. So, I guess its safe to say,
HONI KO ANHONI BANAYE
AUR ANHONI KO HONI
AKASH, SHAYAK AUR DHONI

THE SWEET THING CALLED LIFE

The best thing about life is that everyday has surprises for you, only if you are ready to embrace them. Sometimes you see things that change the whole perspective of your views about something or the other. At other times you meet new people and then all of a sudden they help bring new dimensions into your life. I personally believe that the secret lies in never giving up and continuosly trying new things out. Try building new friendships, let more people see who you are and when you feel that you have met the right persons let them get into your heart and set things right. At the same time try out newer ideas, learn newer things and, of course, try and excel in them. I have started taking lessons in animation and graphic designing and boy is it rewarding or what! Right now I’m involved in redesigning some of my old pictures and finding out best I can explore the software. It seems creativity is my thing after all, as I’ve been getting some good compliments on my work from the few that I’ve had the courage to show what I’m up to. Besides the class is a bonzer in itself, what with great guys like Behram Aderback and Kaushal Jhaveri always ready to lighten things up. Amit is a great teacher as well, and his inputs as far as photography is concerned is absolutely fascinating. It’s such a revelation to work with such creative people and such a liberation from my drudgery at work, to mention nothing of the unbending rigidity of the system, that I’m getting a breath of fresh life.


In this space I would like to mention a few new people who have come into my life over the last weeks. They have helped me immensely in tiding over a rather difficult period of my life.


On top of the list comes Sohini, who has been very insightful with her ideas and helped me to understand the few things that eluded the grasp of my understating. She has been really supportive too and exceptionally understanding. That’s why I wrote of the importance of new people in your life.

Second, of course, is Archana. She has been a revelation and also an outlet for my stored up thoughts. She is a little obtuse at times, but only intentionally, trying to point out the importance of letting things go and stop brooding over the past.

Arun, I must thank as much as anyone else, for just being there with me every evening and sharing his experiences with me. He was my friend in academy, but never in this manner.

Dehli and Kanininka have done their bit as well, although I think that its a sacrilege to mention them in the same breath, not at all in the same sentence.

Thank you all for helping me out and I wish all of you a great time.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

THE LONELY TREE

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
Her bark was rough like a peasant’s skin
Her stem gnarled like a woman in nude
Her branches flew upwards beckoning the sky
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

 
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A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
Her foliage was green and fresh
Like a woman’s hair freshly bathed
She smelt of wild flowers and nature’s bosom
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
The lush green grass kissing her roots
The blue sky caressing her leaves with affection
The breeze within her branches a soft symphony
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
A princess from a fairytale, regal in appearance
I wished that I were a bird to alight on her branches
I wished I could build a nest and therein stay
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
Yet, I, in my hurry, had only moments to spare
With all her love she beckoned, I burdened with care
To my life I would return, hoping someday to return
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, she waits for me.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

DREAMS AND DIMPLE KAPADIA


Time, they say, is the best healer. Well, in my case, I don’t feel too healed. Maybe not sufficient time has elapsed yet. I was with her again last night. Every night I try to forget her, the memories grip me tighter. This time she was sleeping in my arms as she used to love to do. Her head rested on my outstretched left hand, her soft face nuzzled in my chest. She used to love sleeping in this position, she said she loved to smell the dip of my chest. My other hand was slowly caressing her hair and she snuggled in closer and closer until two bodies were but one. I could feel the soft undulations of her heavy breast rise and fall with every breath she took. Her hands were ensconced near my abdomen – peculiarly this wasn’t sexual at all. She looked more like a fairy than human when she slept. So innocent were her closed eyelids, curved eyelashes, and the slight pout of the fine lips, the rounded cheeks and the small chin. Her hair fell askew over face and her nose flared ever so slightly every time she took breath – she dropped into a peaceful slumber. I used to spend so much time watching her as she slept that I can remember every slight contortion of her face and every curve of her balled up body in that pose. I kissed her lightly on her forehead first, then slowly on the cheeks and finally on the lips. At times, she used to love me when I did this, at other times she simply gave a low grumble and turned her back to me, indicating that she wanted to sleep and I was being a nuisance. Either way, I loved it.

Even as I replayed the whole thing in my mind, I could feel the acute sense of loss – as if even in my dreams she was slipping away from me. Reminds me of that song Madhavan sang in the movie, Rehna Hai Tere Dil Me, “Ek din bhoola doonga main usse, chahoonga na mai ussko, ja baata de uss patthar ko”. I slept very little all night, what with all my dreams and the bedbugs that seem to have a feast of my blood every time I am back from a couple of days hiatus. I waged war with them all night, killing a bevy of those little buggers, but losing my sleep in the process. When I woke up in the morning I was very groggy and I felt like I was having a terrible hangover. Went for my dental check up where the Maj Bharat Khanna took a whole lot of time to see me only to tell me that I should come back after one more month. He is one the biggest shammers I have met till date. Every time I go for acheck up he tells me to come back after a month. In the meanwhile, my teeth are going from bad to worse. It was not a total loss though. I had a great time looking at this lady who looked surprisingly like Dimple Kapadia. She accentuated her look by dressing up like Dimple and styling her hair in the same manner too. Well gain some, lose some.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Monday, September 21, 2009

WATERFALL RAPPELLING IN PRABALGARH

I am back from one of the most awesome experiences of my life. I had been for a waterfall rappelling trek to Prabalgarh, in Maharashtra, near Panvel. 19th September, 2009, was the annual monsoon ball in the US Club. Piyush, Mohit, and two more of their submarine course mates took me with them and, boy, did we have a great time or what?! We had a blast in case you didn’t get the message. Alcohol floated like water down a ravine, and the air had a surreal feel with all the pretty damsels in their equally pretty clothes floating around. Well, to be frank all were not very pretty, but the few of them that were quite made up for the rest of them, while the rest tried their best by wearing some eye popping gorgeous dresses. Too many drinks and quite a few refusals had made me bold enough and I made up my mind to dance till I dropped. We danced till the stars had shifted their positions more than once and by the time it was about to end I was completely wasted and desperately wanted some food. I still don’t know who I have to thank for getting me safely back home.
It was 0730 in the morning and an insistent noise near my ear woke me up and I found out that it was my cell phone ringing angrily. It was Prateek on the other side and he was quite shocked to hear my groggy voice. I was instantly awake and went into damage control mode. Three years at the academy teaches you to fib glibly and I did that. I told him that I was late for some reason and I was in VT station waiting for a train. Prateek took this bit of news quite amiably and told me to catch up with them at Bel…… station. I poured in mouth wash, dropped in to my clothes, took my bag and rushed to wake up Piyush. Now to wake up a guy who has had more than his share of alcohol the last night and tell him to take you on an errand is not the safest thing to try early on a Sunday morning. I was desperate and I tried it. Well, what do you know? It worked and a very grumpy Piyush took me to the taxi stand. From there it was a race against time and at 0900 I was in Bel…, a good one hour late.
For the first time I met the guys who were to be my mates for the rest of the day. Luckily, there were four boys to five girls and this is the sort of situation I really wanna be in. . There were Anand, Narayan, Harshit, Shriya, Shraddha, Akanksha, Archana and Priyanka. All of us young and bursting to get going. However, hammers and tongs were at work in my head and firecrackers in my stomach. Last night’s debauchery had come back to haunt me. These guys quite amiably greeted me and then swore to make me pay for making them wait for the extra one hour. Even as the bus got going Prateek greeted me quite cheerfully and Radhika, as usual was her demure self. Our yellow mini bus chugged along at a nice pace and within an hour we were at a small village in the middle of the jungle slightly away from the highway. Here Majid and Pritam, our instructors and guides for the day, met us. We kept our luggage and stuff in a sweet little hamlet and changed into trekking gear. The trek up the mountain was fairly easy and I was left to bring up the rear end, having had some prior experience of trekking. Shraddha was the real challenge. She was a cute, bubbly youngster, still in school, class ninth to be precise, and on her first trek. They say you need to get your feet on the ground, well in her case it was literally a trying affair. She had a fair amount of problem while climbing, but she bravely struggled on. Archana and Akanksha were the brave hearts and they carried the majority of the load. Narayan and Anand were the resident comedians. Their capers kept us in peals of laughter all the way up and down. Thanks to those guys this trip was far more enjoyable than the last one.
By the time we had climbed almost to the top, we got our first glimpse of the cliff from which we would be rappelling down. To say in didn’t give me the jitters would be lying, so, I shall lie. It was easy climbing till the top of the Buddhist caves. Now that phase of our trip began for which we had come all this way -- the rappelling. Prateek shared a lot of information with us and told us how to go about it; the various knots used how he had gone about his training and all. Harshit went first, and he went pretty fast. Shreya went next and she was quiet all the way down. Then, went her baby sister, Shraddha. She took it quite well, as a matter of fact because she was quite nervous of heights. Next, Narayan followed. Then came Archana, and to be frank she provided us with a lot of comic relief. She was terribly afraid of heights and it took Majid a good 45 minutes of shouting, coaxing, cajoling and all other techniques in his repertoire to finally get her down the cliff. She kept trying to climb up and her plaintive bleat “Please don’t push me, I will go on my own” was heard for a long time. Even when she was going down, you could hear her screams echoing around the mountains. Next Anand went down and then it was my turn. I was pretty afraid and did slip once but, to my credit, it was because of wrong instructions and not due to my fear. However, once I had crossed the overhang and I was rotating in space I felt ecstasy like I had never felt before. The waterfall was gushing into my face, the wind was ringing in my ears and I was rotating in space! Can you even imagine that feeling? I felt like hanging there forever and never come down. I kept looking up to feel the water splashing on my face, and kept shouting like mad.
The biggest shock awaited me when I had rappelled down. Archana was missing. She had gone for round two!!! Anyways, she wasn’t able to make it till the top as she lost her way and came back to the bottom. Kudos to her courage I say! We bathed in the waterfall and took snaps that I know will burn Facebook. Then we shared our lunch boxes and finally started the trek to the bottom. This time the trek was so breathtaking that I kept getting lost in the scenery. Seriously, man, the view was straight out of a YRF film. There was a gnarled tree in the middle of a green field that Archana pointed out to me that looked it had stepped out of fairy tale. There were brooks running down the mountain and through the lush green field. There was music in the air, the sound of the brooks, the birds and the wind rustling and caressing the leaves. I felt like I was walking through a dream. We even found an emu farm in the middle of nowhere. I was so lost in the scenery that I didn’t realise when we had reached out little village. After having steaming cups of tea and having changed we started back for Mumbai, ready for a couple of weeks more of drudgery.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

GOD? NAH!



What have you asked from God this festive season? Oh, I guess you’re the type of person who doesn’t ask anything from god? Well! Now that’s not surprising because I happen to be the sort of person who never asks anything from god either. That is because I don’t believe in god. You can call it blasphemy if you may. Either ways I don’t care. The answer in today’s lingo would probably be “WHATEVER!" There is only one god on this earth and that is children. I know that many have said this before but just saying that the moon is the earth’s only satellite doesn't make it wrong no matter how many times you speak it out loud.


You know what I see in children? It’s the same thing I see in a mountain brook or a young sapling. They’re unpolluted by the world we live in. Its simple, really, and the fact is that they are the only people who speak and think alike. Now think of all the people you know and think of one grown up who can lay claim to this fact? I don’t mean you, of course, you holiness, but all the rest of them are tainted and polluted. We speak of so many things and none but we alone know what lies in our minds. If a child says something then chances are that nine out of ten times he means it. That is also why we fail to understand so many things that children say or do. We start polluting them by just laughing at their mistakes and simplicity. It teaches them that they need to hide whatever mistakes they have committed and to lie so as not to look stupid in front of others. We baby talk them and teach them its disgusting to be a baby and, in turn, they want to do all that we do. Nobody tells them that what we do have also been learnt from our adults who had learnt it from theirs and so on and so back. If only some one were brave enough to face up to this fact and tell them that most of what we do everyday is cheat others and the best cheater wins then we wouldn’t have so many lost souls.



How many teachers are there who haven’t cheated in their own exams or wouldn’t cheat today if given half a chance? How many of today’s parents try and teach their children all that they know are false and won’t follow at the risk of their lives? Yet, we keep telling each other, “Grow up!” or “Become mature.” Why on earth, I would like to ask, should I grow up? To become like the rest of the world, conniving and scheming. Sho shweet, hai na?

Friday, September 18, 2009

A SNEAK PREVIEW OF MY PROJECT..



THE BOMBAY CASTLE

Bombay Castle (also Casa da Orta) is one of the oldest defensive structures built in the city of Mumbai (formerly Bombay.Now sandwiched between the towering RBI headquarters and the Asiatic Society, this original British garrison’s every nook and corner is replete with history. An imposing 27-foot-high Portuguese gate welcomes you into the fortress, which has witnessed the transformation of seven scattered islands into a The history of Bombay Castle dates back to 1554, when a modest Quinta manor or Manor House was built by Portuguese physician and botanist, Garcia-da-Orta, who had leased the island of Bombaim from the Portuguese government. The Manor House was double-storied wooden structure surrounded by a garden. According to naval authorities, the Manor House became the residence of the Portuguese governor in 1626. By 1634, the structure was rebuilt and fortified with a single bastion and two cannons.

In 1661, Princess Catherine de Braganza of Portugal married Charles-II of England, and the islands were gifted to the British as dowry. The formal instrument of possession of Mumbai was signed in Manor House on February 18, 1665. The then British Governor, Humphrey Cook, is believed to have fortified the structure further with lime and stone, and make it large enough to accommodate 18 cannons. He named it Bombay Castle. The castle was built of local blue Kurla stone and red laterite stone from the Konkan region to the south. In 1662, after the islands came under the hands of the British, the British East India Company took possession of the castle in 1665. Over the next ten years, they built a defensive structure around the manor. Around the same time, a wall was being built around a new urban centre. The wall was later demolished in 1865 after the city grew rapidly. Fragments of this wall however still exist in some areas.

Few records of the original Portuguese castle remain and historians are trying to piece together the original location of the manor. Two gates of the manor are located within INS Angre, a naval station in South Mumbai. A sundial thought to date back to the Portuguese era is also present. This sundial does not mark out the 12 hours of a day, but marks out certain periods which are deemed to be important to people of those days. Bombay Castle had a commanding view that strategically encompassed the port, its two bays and the Town. In the words of an ensign, Bombay Castle, was, ‘the strongest hold our makers are master of, in India’. Historian James Douglas evokes the powerful impression of Bombay Castle, ‘you pass under a lofty gate. Two figures look upon you, Portuguese soldiers bearing aloft the great globe itself, significant emblem of an inflated dominion by sea and land’.



King Charles II was in perennial needs of funds. Three years later, the British Crown rented the islands to the East India Company for 10 pounds a year. Soon, Bombay Castle was further enlarged, and strengthened by Philip Gyfford. In a letter written by British Governor Gerald Aungier in 1673 to the Court of Directors in England, he says the Manor House was ‘‘burned down by the Arabs of Muscat when they took the island from the Portuguese in 1661’’. Today, a small naval medical unit stands at the exact spot where it once stood. The only marker to the spot is a beautiful Portuguese sundial in the courtyard. In 1686, Bombay Castle became the naval and administrative headquarters of the East India Company when the latter shifted base from Surat to Mumbai. ‘By 1710 the Castle had been provided with a strong magazine, quarters for soldiers and tanks to supply fresh water for a thousand people for twenty months’. Later, this move that had initiated fortifications, prompted another shift. It was deemed strategically inappropriate for the Governor to live within the bulwarks. For, ‘all those who visited him would be able to assess the strength and preparedness of the garrison.’ The search began for a new residence. The main building within this castle is the Governor's House (Raj Bhavan) in which Gerald Aungier, the second Governor of Bombay used to stay. The residence was later moved to Parel and then to Malabar Hill over the next two centuries. The current building houses the offices of the Flag Officer Commander-in-Chief of the Western Naval Command.

Bombay Castle was the focal point of the fortified city recommended by Aungier from Dongri to Mendham’s Point at the extreme southern end of the city. Though envisioned by Aungier, the walled town was built only much later, by Governor Charles Boone after his appointment in 1715. According to Bombay: The Cities Within, co-authored by Sharada Dwivedi and Rahul Mehrotra, the walled city had three fortified gates — Apollo Gate (near St Andrew’s Church), Church Gate (Flora Fountain), and Bazaar Gate (near the General Post Office). The main gateway to the Bombay Castle is a gem of Indo-Portuguese architecture: a western framework with Gujrati inspired motifs...long before the English invented the Indo-Sarracenic style.In 1769, an extension of the fortifications was built and named Fort St George. In 1862, the then governor Sir Bartle Frere issued the final orders for the demolition of the fortifications and to expand the city.

In 1940, Bombay Castle was renamed ‘INS Angre’, after the legendary Maratha admiral Kanhoji Angre. Much of Bombay Castle has been maintained in its original form by the naval authorities. At least 10 large cannons and two small ones are still visible on the Flagstaff Bastion and the Tank Bastion. The lookout window above the Portuguese gate has been preserved as well.

THE MAD HATTER


QUIRKY ONE I WROTE WHEN I WAS DREAMING OF TOUCHING THE STARS... :) HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT..

You might not like this covering letter
You may dislike my cv even better
(Though it cost me to the point of being sore)
I assure you you'll hate me even more.

I am no jolly, I talk a lot
I am not a spoilt brat, am not, am not, am NOT
I come from India, with a mouth thats even bigger
I dont charm snakes, I sure ain't a beggar.

I write a lot, a bit more than you'd care to read
I paint a bit, and I sing worse than a bleating kid
I sing some games and I can run pretty fast,
But its what I do with my brains that matter at last.



I dont smoke and I sure dont drink
I can still drive men crazier than they think
I'm innovative and original, this letter tells you how
When i'm driven, I drive home harder than a mad cow.

Its what you'll be singing home in the years to come
Though that won't be a place that I'll be welcome
Its what to your company and you I'll bring,
Magic carpets and smiles to light up a circus ring.

Mail me if you think you care,
Although, you'd better start to prepare
Before you start cursing or tearing your hair in despair
'Coz it wont be easy, to be my boss and not to expire.

I'm mad as a hatter, madder still
Disbeleive me if you will, at your own peril
Why else would I waste time writing this mail
When it is clear my experience is nil?

DESTINY'S CHILDREN



I WROTE THIS ONE WHEN SHE WAS ILL. BUT THAT'S OBVIOUS. WHAT ISNT IS WHAT LIFE BRINGS TO YOU. SO ENJOY WHAT YOU HAVE.

When you have flu
And you have no clue
You sit and sneeze
You stand and sneeze
You lie on your bed and sneeze
That's when you need it.



When you have flu
And you have no clue
Your nose is stuck like super glue
All the world seems blue
And your bed seems like slue
That's when you need it.

When you have flu
And you have no clue
Your throat itches like sandpaper
And you need to have some pamper
You need that warm soup and blanket
That's when you need it.



When you have flu
And you have no clue
You need some love and care
You need a hug and some hot fare
You need a warm bed and a warm chest to curl into
You need me more than any thing else.

I am sorry I am not there to take care of you when you obviously need me so much and are in so much of discomfort and pain. That is why I promise to you that I will never leave your side once we are together and will always hold you tightly to my chest while you sleep. Nothing shall cause you discomfort and you will love to fall ill just so that you can be comforted by me. But then you will get warm soup and lots of hugs and all the love in the world.

MOCKING THE GODS

I WROTE THIS ONE WHEN I WAS HAVING A GREAT TIME. SEE HOW I MOCK THE GODS? WE ALL REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT WE ARE HUMANS UNTIL WE'RE FORCEFULLY REMINDED OF IT. SADLY, I LEARNT THAT LESSON TOO LATE.....



The first time I saw you,
You wre a cocky little gal.
A little too confident and sure
A little like you needed comfort.
You came up to me and said,
"How much did you score in your exams?"

I hated you then, and I thought,
"I will show her...."
Sadly it hasnt been much of a showing
You havent been impressed much,
And you know what I'm talking about.

Yet, there were times when I thought
"She's so lovely that I could love her forever"
You frustrated me, the same as I did',
We were a right pair, fighting like kittens,
Yet, we never realised the games that Gods play
They had a great time as well!!

They made two jokers out of us,
And never did we realise when we fell in love
Yet, each demonising the other,
We passed the time which should have been the best
We wasted the greatest time we could have had.

Somehow, I dont regret it today,
If I didn't do it then, I do it today
I have the greatest time of my life whenever your'e around,
If we didnt realise how good we could be then
We definitely do now and thats what counts.
We foughtb with each other then
We fight for each other now,
The gods may have had their fun,
Its our turn now, to have the best life that a man and a woman can have.

GO FLY

Doubts, doubts, doubts all over my black mind

Faster, faster, faster I run from them

Yet, they come closer like Fate

Drums, drums, drums beat in the background

Tribals dance to the tune – mockery of civilization.


Peace, peace, peace is all I crave

Yet, my mind takes me where my nightmares lie

Slipping, slipping, slipping till I wake up

Cold, cold, cold sweat on my furrowed brows

The dungeon of Hell hath opened their jaws.


Warm, warm, warm is the sunshine I feel on my face

Cool, cool, cool is the water gushing over my hands

Yet, dark and lifeless is my heart

Feel, feel, feel I tell myself

Doom has fixed its shackles on me like a caged animal.


I feel the need to fly, to fly

Fly, fly, fly away I tell the wings

Rise, rise, rise and soar above the darkness

Where the sun shines into the heart

Fall, fall, fall like a bird with molten wings.


Cry, cry, cry like a gurgling brook

Uninhibited by paltry rocks, egged on by soothing winds

Dry, dry, dry my eyes are like the burning desert

Cold, cold, cold my heart is when I long for warmth

Neither books nor words soothe me; in pain I burn.


Pop, pop, pop burst the bubbles of unspoken words,

Unheeded emotions, unloved love, virgin words

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh the tips of wings flatter my face

Birds I let free have returned to their nests

Snap, snap, snap my heart breaks into smaller pieces.


Free, free, free like a bird, like a woman in love

Freedom is what sets you free

Love, love, love is what keeps you bound

Break, break, break all boundaries, and let the birds fly

They will return, yet, nothing will be the same.


Look, look, look till my eyes bleed, no difference

Free, free, free the birds are, will always be

Never, never, never will the same my heart be

Winds shall call, the sun shall shine, and the moon will still be beautiful

Yet, my heart has broken too many times, never to change?

HAVE YOU?

Have you touched what I wanted to touch?

Have you seen what I wanted to see?

Have you smelt what I wanted to smell?

Have you heard my heart crying when none can?

Have you pressed your lips on my temple when none can?

Have you placed your ears to hear my broken heart beat?

Have you kissed the tears that flow from my eyes?

Have you smelt the nape of my neck at dawn?

Have you run your fingers through my wiry hair?

Have you buried your face in the cleft of my chest?

Have you held my hand when I needed you most?

Have you looked deepest into my eyes into my secrets?

Have you cupped my face in your hands and kissed my parched lips?

Have you smelt my breath and yearned for more?

Have you dreamt of me when you sleep?

Have you loved me so much to have my baby?

Have you seen us walking into the sunset, hand in hand?

Have you pined to see my face, hold my hand?

Have you whispered lovely words into my ears?

Have you dreamt what I wanted to dream?

Have you felt what I wanted to feel?

Have you wished what I wanted to wish?

Have you wanted to own me?

Have you not heard these words deep inside you?

FOREVER YOURS, NEVER WAS

I don’t want to write. I have lost all energy to think and that comes before I write anything. Every night when I stand on my balcony I feel the urge to jump down the five floors and kill myself. Maybe I will die even before I have reached the ground; maybe I will taste the blood in my mouth before I die. I want to know what lies beyond, in case there is peace in darkness. This is the same balcony from which I used to enjoy looking at the drunken sea. I loved the large number of eagles soaring in the sky, the crows scavenging for food. I loved to see the waves rippling with energy, threatening to break the heart of the shore. I wanted to climb to the top of the tallest trees, to fly with the mightiest eagles. I loved the cool sea breeze that flowed all over me. I loved to stand naked in the balcony and let nature clasp me to her bosom. I loved everything because love was real.

Today when I go to sleep I hope that I should not wake up. When living is so much pain life is a farce. I wake up night after night after having the most beautiful dreams. My beautiful dreams have turned into my worst nightmares now. Sleep draws my eyelids closer, yet, I like awake in fear of the next dream. When I wake up in the morning I am nothing but a shadow, I live only in my dreams.

I want her in my arms and I want to kiss her, write poems for her like I used to. Ever since consciousness kissed my spirit I have loved her as no man has ever loved a woman. Yet, today, I feel as if I loved none but myself. I was selfish. I wanted the world for myself and her too. She is too big for that—only the ashes are mine.

It was easier the first time. I never knew that she was mine. If it was unbearable then, it is hopelessness now for me. It was a fire that burnt me inside out then, only ambers and ashes now. I wish I had the clouds on my side to carry my love to her, but I am all alone. I had all the world to myself; I have lost even my soul in my arrogance. She gave me the best gift ever – her love; and I flew. The higher I flew the more brash I grew, refusing to believe in my own mortality. When the winds have left even the invincible eagle is nothing but a mere paper model which will come crashing to the ground.

If you ever love a woman, set her free. If she comes back to you she will stay. Take care of her for she can make you the king of all you survey. If you turn into a monster, her love will redeem you back into a human being, for such is the power of her love. She will go smiling to the grave with you for such is the power of her love. If you are as lucky as I was, remember not to slight her for she makes you who you are. It will be too late before you realise that you have lost what was yours to claim, yet never again yours.