Sunday, February 27, 2011

The Number Game

It's that time of the year when TVs are switched off, malls and restaurant are neglected, temples become crowded, and the atmosphere turns grim. It's exam-time. Parents exchange notes with teachers and other parents to check if their son/daughter is well-prepared. Nerves go a notch higher. The student, actually is pretty cool until he/she is dragged onto this panic train. And suddenly this cool dude feels the pressure which otherwise would have handled it quite well in his/her own style. The number game begins. Every other person becomes your competitor, ready to pounce on that vacant, precious seat with an extra mark. Because of this funny system, rather than nourishing and nurturing the knowledge the education is dumped on your brain. You are not what you would love to be but become what others prefer you to be. With time, cirumstances change, but the game continues.

Saturday, February 19, 2011


Here I stand
on these tiny feet at the bus-stop.
My first time aboard,
a ride with unknown.
Faces unfamiliar, but look similar.
Stranger-eyes stare
in the haze that surrounds.
Here I stand
on these big feet at the bus-stop.
I'm just someone
who tussles with the clock,
caught up like everyone
in the everlasting maze.
Still unaware what lies ahead.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Languor (Song)

My porch is wet.
It's just a drizzle.
Far away ice mountains
and my malt on the rocks-
quietly in my head,
they sound distant.

I close my eyes,
and feel oozy.
Life is getting slower. 
It's languor.

I am just a bit high,
but warm in the chill
as the sun dips behind.

Whiskey clinks on ice,
I smile and say, 
I am with you

It's languor.

Friday, February 4, 2011

A Flip

What door to knock on?
My thirst wanders and sighs.
Which fire more fierce?
of the tavern or
within you that resides.
Know not if one drowns
the pain of the other
or would the memory
ache and linger.
The ride unknown and lonely-
my lesser fate awaits
a flip of the coin to decide.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Ephemeral Woman

The armour of love cracks.
Maudlin tears
in abundance
fill the gaps.
She touched
in a way unknown.
Left me to rust-
my ephemeral woman.