Seated on a folding chair,
Sipping chai.
The classicist adjusts his crotch,
Takes his chashma off,
and finshes the Sunday crossword.
Its time to do a task,
Something planned.
Something that doesnt deserve a second thought,
let alone meticulous preparation.
So its taken on,
Deft and Rigid as ever,
He finishes it.
Gets back to his chai,
Seated on a folding chair.
Flimsy as ever, the chair screeches as he settles down.
Another sip of the chai,
A new task .
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Kutte Ki maut
Its a dogs life they say,
rambling away to glory.
not bothered by the rising dust,
and the market .
On the slope i sat and thought,
if my life as it was,
would be to renounce my carriage.
To slide down and stare up,
while my ass hurt and i ripped my jeans.
Where would we all be,
if it wasn't for the slide.
The slide i loved as a child.
That grew enormous and so did i.
The dog stared at me from the top,
looking rather wistful.
Thats when it struck me,
that a truck will set that dog free.
For he didnt slide down with me.
He stood his ground and remained insolent.
That truck did need to teach him that lesson.
Its a dogs life they say,
rambling away to glory.
not bothered by the rising dust,
and the market .
rambling away to glory.
not bothered by the rising dust,
and the market .
On the slope i sat and thought,
if my life as it was,
would be to renounce my carriage.
To slide down and stare up,
while my ass hurt and i ripped my jeans.
Where would we all be,
if it wasn't for the slide.
The slide i loved as a child.
That grew enormous and so did i.
The dog stared at me from the top,
looking rather wistful.
Thats when it struck me,
that a truck will set that dog free.
For he didnt slide down with me.
He stood his ground and remained insolent.
That truck did need to teach him that lesson.
Its a dogs life they say,
rambling away to glory.
not bothered by the rising dust,
and the market .
Thursday, July 28, 2011
God Man. Baba "Black Sheep"
GOD-MAN
I am aware of the infinite ways to exist happily in this world.
I am in absolute control of the energy and spirits that surround me.
I have always been fond of the behinds of young boys.
I am THE GOD-Man.
Pay me money for I know how to make you breathe.
Not that you don’t do that anyway, I just make the experience better.
Yes, I do accept cheques.
I make money for I am a GOD-Man. My ilk is rather rare.
My bogus magic tricks seem to have a lot of flair.
Why do I tell you the secrets of life?
Why do you think I lech at your wife?
Why do I bother to concoct bogus lessons for you to master?
Why do I not let it seem like I’m the same as you?
Some time from now, one day, ill be recognized for who I truly am. The man who loves to feel young boys,girls and some toys.
The man who needs to speak from a pedestal to make his point heard.
The God-Man who needs to pray to God to be revered.
I am aware of the infinite ways to exist happily in this world.
I am in absolute control of the energy and spirits that surround me.
I have always been fond of the behinds of young boys.
I am THE GOD-Man.
Pay me money for I know how to make you breathe.
Not that you don’t do that anyway, I just make the experience better.
Yes, I do accept cheques.
I make money for I am a GOD-Man. My ilk is rather rare.
My bogus magic tricks seem to have a lot of flair.
Why do I tell you the secrets of life?
Why do you think I lech at your wife?
Why do I bother to concoct bogus lessons for you to master?
Why do I not let it seem like I’m the same as you?
Some time from now, one day, ill be recognized for who I truly am. The man who loves to feel young boys,girls and some toys.
The man who needs to speak from a pedestal to make his point heard.
The God-Man who needs to pray to God to be revered.
Friday, May 13, 2011
United States of America.
The park provides endless hours of recreation to kids. I'm just one of those random kids you see playing in the evening. I call friends an hour in advance, make them reach on time, convince those who claim they have assignments to hand in or unit tests to flunk. Im Soham, Class XI C, studying science in a popular south delhi school. As of now , im in jail, dont ask me why, because i intend to tell you nonetheless.
While i narrate it to you, forgive me as i experiment with an elementary rhyme scheme styled narrative.
"I called my friends everyday,
a grown up boy has got to play,
We went and bought a cosco ball.
Six overs a side, baby overs too,
Chasing sixty five,
We only manage Thirty two.
Uncle came calling ,
told us to about his days,
said we were eunuchs to play with a felt ball,
i think he referred to us as "gays".
He gave me a leather ball,
said a man who plays the sport,
better learn to play standing vain and tall.
It hurt me every now and then,
till one day,
i timed to perfection.
there was no looking back from there,
about windows and flower pots,
i did not care.
Uncle came back the other day,
with a policeman.
i felt like i had done something wrong,
looking at the policeman.
i got jailed,
by the policeman.
Uncle , youre a bastard.
While i narrate it to you, forgive me as i experiment with an elementary rhyme scheme styled narrative.
"I called my friends everyday,
a grown up boy has got to play,
We went and bought a cosco ball.
Six overs a side, baby overs too,
Chasing sixty five,
We only manage Thirty two.
Uncle came calling ,
told us to about his days,
said we were eunuchs to play with a felt ball,
i think he referred to us as "gays".
He gave me a leather ball,
said a man who plays the sport,
better learn to play standing vain and tall.
It hurt me every now and then,
till one day,
i timed to perfection.
there was no looking back from there,
about windows and flower pots,
i did not care.
Uncle came back the other day,
with a policeman.
i felt like i had done something wrong,
looking at the policeman.
i got jailed,
by the policeman.
Uncle , youre a bastard.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
RAJ THACKERAY
He wasn't one to be smitten by fame, by the glitz and glamour that on so many occasions engulfed people and would mercilessly continue to do so.
He wanted to bat, and score as many runs as he could, oblivious to the needs of the team.
It wasn't a question of setting up milestones, or signing more lucrative endorsements,
the poor guy genuinely believed he possessed the ability to score runs in a way that was far more visually appealing than the others.
Perhaps, a while back he would have managed to encounter a range of cricketers who would have supported this misconception of his, as of now, he was JOKE.
He went on to score a lot of runs all fashioned in a predictable and redundant batting style that needed to be changed if he wanted to emerge victorious against the newer lot of pacers who seemed to nurse a fondness for old timers like him.
The only people who seemed to be fascinated by his batting abilities and in awe of his rather rustic morality were those who were blinded by the statistics that seemingly denoted the greatness of his cricketing abilities.
Somehow, all these people forgot to see the result of the match.
Raj Thackeray, the worst batsman in India, had lost us the match again.
Peace.
You know who
He wanted to bat, and score as many runs as he could, oblivious to the needs of the team.
It wasn't a question of setting up milestones, or signing more lucrative endorsements,
the poor guy genuinely believed he possessed the ability to score runs in a way that was far more visually appealing than the others.
Perhaps, a while back he would have managed to encounter a range of cricketers who would have supported this misconception of his, as of now, he was JOKE.
He went on to score a lot of runs all fashioned in a predictable and redundant batting style that needed to be changed if he wanted to emerge victorious against the newer lot of pacers who seemed to nurse a fondness for old timers like him.
The only people who seemed to be fascinated by his batting abilities and in awe of his rather rustic morality were those who were blinded by the statistics that seemingly denoted the greatness of his cricketing abilities.
Somehow, all these people forgot to see the result of the match.
Raj Thackeray, the worst batsman in India, had lost us the match again.
Peace.
You know who
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Valentines Day:LOVE and URBAN MELODRAMA
Weeks,months in fact of delay have resulted in the availability of the first impression being pushed to the fourteenth of February,
Valentines Day.
so go get a copy.
also,
this is to thank one person in particular,
nikhil michigan for woking endlessly in tandem with the printers,
i couldnt talk to those freaks even a bit,
hes the man!!
Valentines Day.
so go get a copy.
also,
this is to thank one person in particular,
nikhil michigan for woking endlessly in tandem with the printers,
i couldnt talk to those freaks even a bit,
hes the man!!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Broken News:
This particular title belongs to a lady named Amrita Tripathi, the author of a book i went through a couple of days back, i couldnt mange to finish reading it though.
The media is one crazy manifestation of clowns, a variety of them mind you, those who are just outright clowns, some who are pseudo intellectual snooty clowns, and others who well, look the part.
The reason why im writing after this long hiatus i would be allowed to explain within a few weeks.
So, the clowns of late are convinced of the fact that Prince wont fall into the well again(for the third time, kill the damned child) and the earth shattering theory that the "The World WONT come to an end in 2012".
This bitter peace comes out of sheer disrespect for the idiots who spend lakhs of rupees to broadcast repeats of IPL matches as NEWS.
A revolution of sorts is needed in terms of stabilizing News makers in terms of their demarcating money making schemes from broadcasting what the common man needs to know.
Brothels is what they have become in the process of ensuring maximun viewership.
the only difference is that the pimps here are clad in three piece suits and have immaculate understandin of cliched economic concepts as well as twists and turns adorning daily soaps.
I mean for Gods sake man, News is made by the untimely death of a character on a teleserial.
God Bless Us.
The media is one crazy manifestation of clowns, a variety of them mind you, those who are just outright clowns, some who are pseudo intellectual snooty clowns, and others who well, look the part.
The reason why im writing after this long hiatus i would be allowed to explain within a few weeks.
So, the clowns of late are convinced of the fact that Prince wont fall into the well again(for the third time, kill the damned child) and the earth shattering theory that the "The World WONT come to an end in 2012".
This bitter peace comes out of sheer disrespect for the idiots who spend lakhs of rupees to broadcast repeats of IPL matches as NEWS.
A revolution of sorts is needed in terms of stabilizing News makers in terms of their demarcating money making schemes from broadcasting what the common man needs to know.
Brothels is what they have become in the process of ensuring maximun viewership.
the only difference is that the pimps here are clad in three piece suits and have immaculate understandin of cliched economic concepts as well as twists and turns adorning daily soaps.
I mean for Gods sake man, News is made by the untimely death of a character on a teleserial.
God Bless Us.
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