Wednesday, October 21, 2009

boyfriend not husband


There there he stood by her-
Through thick and thin-
Was he thick skinned?
A height and stature as majestic as his
And a fight with him was as welcome as his kiss.

He played like a pied piper.
A better pun is a perfect snake-charmer.

His words were well-thought.
His innocence and his goodness were so much sought.

He was gentle and innocuous.
His smile was too infectious.

He is still there.
He has been the same always.

He will continue to be there.
He is god send, kind and generous.

Here here he stands by her-
Through thick and thin-
He was not thick skinned.
He is more than a friend-
More divine in her imaginations-
Why could he not become her husband?

She can’t have reasons.
Every reason is unreasonable.

She lacked courage.
He lacked decision.
Just as affairs lack conviction.

Together they dreamt-

They will be born again.
There will be a better world.
Mediocrity will not be hypocrisy.
Love will be love.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

a car travelled to the wedding.

The gluttons-scandalous and garrulous filled the gathering.
As the car travelled by a family to the wedding:

For 12 years,the car had served the family.
But it had now begun to act wily.

It had witnessed the last minute haste
The Kapoor's and their children always made.

It considered itself a member too.
It was cared like a bride til it was two.

Recession had not hit the world then
Mr. Kapoor decided egregiously when.

He resigned from a private company
And consulted astrologers not one but many.

His business venture was a flop.
His inept deals sought just a sop.

And once the disease of pessimism afflicts-
It sags interests and many ambitions, it kills.

The car lied ignored in the garrage.
Mr Kapoor would take it out only for his monthly massage.

It went on for a decade.
But now the glory was to fade.

The children got a second hand scooty.
No body bothered anymore for the car's beauty.

The Kapoor's did not much socialise.
They saved and all their bills they carefully did revise.

For a change they decided to go for a wedding.
The event was marked by its own setting.

Poor Neetu had a bad hair day
for an occasion so wonderful and gay.

Her elder sister was decked up.
She wore a flashy top.

Mother dear was clad in a red sari
as red as the colour of rust on their rickety Safari.

Father was puzzled.
His speech was muzzled.

The family hurdled around.
The engine made squeaky sound.

Neetu wanted a sigh of relief.
She held herself to some mysterious belief.

She needed more time.
She had to apply a hair serum for that tinsel shine.

The car dabbled to start.
The father posed like a braggart.

Neetu’s brother wanted the steering wheel.
He was fourteen and full of zeal.

Father frowned at the clock.
Neetu looked still undone in her purple frock.

She surrendered.
Woe-be-gone, she sat inside the car and pondered.

The wheels treaded only a little
that there was a speed-breaker so brittle.

The family jumped
as the car triumphed.

The vehicle had had enough.
The cheap service centre had always played a bluff.

The wheels struggled.
The machine waggled.

Neetu wanted another sigh of relief.
She held herself to her belief-

The journey must get sabotaged
for her hair were so damaged.

Father’s image of an all- providing male was tarnished.
The little hungry hooligan beside him looked so famished.

The boy had resisted the home-made banal brunch.
The savoury dinner was all that he waited to munch.

Geetu dreamt of mutton.
The other woes were forgotten.

The mother kept herself busy.
She layered her face with more powder and took it easy.

The father drove and looked offended.
Neetu also felt unattended.

The metal trudged a little
that there was another speed-breaker so brittle.

The car finally stopped.
Neetu sneered.

Geetu also squealed.
All her dreams of groom hunting were revealed.

The son yelled horribly.
The mother also lost her calm terribly.

The father freaked.
Some part of the vehicle creaked.

The end was embarrassing in appeal.
The law were to repeal.

Man became slave
when science behaved audaciously brave.

The car commanded a ride.
The Kapoor's had to lose all their pride.

The father mimed driving
and the family pushed the car to the wedding.

Monday, October 5, 2009

movie today

Internal affairs (mou- gan- du)

The Chinese script is mysteriously amazing. At the climax towards the end such a fresh twist is just so thrillingly loveable. The movie is not predictable at all. It flows like a smooth road yet full of welcomed friction.

The screen starts with the Buddhist sculpture-giant and huge but every image just half revealed as the contributor list including the director and the cast and the supporting cast shows up on it as does it before every movie by a respectable custom. Those statues and that mystifying music is such a starter for a script as amazing as this. The method of disguise and curiosity and the character development is so wise and thoughtful.

It’s not an ordinary entertainer but a real thriller in all sense. You tend to live with the movie with each second of suspense and not without praising the brilliant performance of those mortal creatures. Kudos!

The villain and his astuteness doubled by the effect of his cute smile on a plump face. The opening scene has an aura and story of its own. You cannot make out exactly what’s going to show up in a couple of well framed hours of depiction. This is a true fiction. You see a writer-wife imagines a character with 28 shades. She has to finish her novel. The end is wanting on the behalf of an important revelation. You know that you have to guess but you can’t guess it all!

Saturday, October 3, 2009


The Swift-footed gal

It was Sunday morning and the road was well nigh clear like the deceptive sparsely clouded sky. I was almost flying on the spacious fly over at the swift speed of 75 in my dad's Swift this morning;after I dropped my sister to that geometrical Indhira Gandhi Airport in Delhi that all of a sudden-my numberplate lost a screw and; the traffic policeman glared at the underground punk movement supporting print on my t-shirt,scanning me wid a grin and then blushed on my purple shades and, then looked straight into them to me.

He smiled and I smiled back.But it was not so much fun as before the moment could overwhelm him,my dad sitting beside me distracted him.

Then a square face appeared from the remote.He did not have time to waste looking at me.Perhaps a booze party in the evening with my dad’s hard earned money was more respectful for a man of his stature.He waved his hand at my dad to come out and hushed the other man away to stop every car flowing like a free and forceful river from the height, one after the other lining up behind lipstick-colour-car.My dad breathed a sigh of relief to himself that we are not the only law-breakers.The old man asked him to ooze out a quick 400 easy and grease his palms to pre-empt a penalty of 2000 in cash and remain calm for his generosity.He demanded my driving licence-I rose in a gliding manner and took that out from the back-pocket of my jeans separated from the driver’s seat only to stick back to it as fast as it could be. Heavens know why sometimes I feel that my body is all bout that part of me! I corrected my disposition and sank decently into my seat.There was no remorse.I have seen an IIM-A pass out friend sweating nervously when on being provoked by me, he jumped the last few seconds of the Red light and lost 200 bucks to a stranger well wisher in white at Madhya-Marga in Chandigarh. I and my dad were still better managers for this part of stress.

And being caught by a traffic policeman was now like a jail-bird’s tell tale for me.For all three years of my life during graduation, a friend thrice brought his friends’ three different bikes without any papers of registration and number plate to ride with me and all the three times we were made to relax at an additional stop-over. But he was a very chilled out buddy.He trained the principled me to get over with any feeling of guilt or repent. He told me about the adventures of the self-proclaimed roadies in Chandigarh and all that corruption that is shown in the serial Office Office come alive on roads.Those descriptions are tragi-comedies that I’d keep for some other time.So,the green notes counting 50,100,50,70,150 with Gandhi smiling on each sheet, each time hid our truth and shunned the violence by the saviors of law.

This Sunday also,he took the most chased material of this world and gave me a green flag.My dad took a stroll and came back smiling to me and I knew that expression since I first started driving.

The only thing that worried me was that had I allowed him to hear the melody in my voice.I could have thawed him to fetch me a 50 percent discount on that followed by my trademark-my smile again but for my limitations I stayed compose.If I say that you should know that I am lying.The evidence follows-

It was 7 years back.My first blind date with a guy that drove blindly on G.T. road at a Speed that thrills and kills.I was happy imagining Tokyo Drift type of experience while at the back of my mind I was groping for reasons how to get rid of that bulky bunch of white fats with light eyes and smooth complexion but no–good-for me guy with that special piercing in his ears and the swank spikes dyed in golden projecting him as an alien on a special excursion with me.I did not know why the white tigers had stopped us as I was ignorant of the speed and time calculations of those hidden jeeps like in a guerrilla war.The frantic spoke roughly with him. And I knew in a very bookish manner that I am the Jhansi Ki Rani in demand.When I came out of the car,I did something ghastly memorable by asking them the craziest questions I could in a filmy style:What have you stopped us for? Do you guess that we are eloping because it is a valentines day incidentally? Are you kidding,we are the forth coming responsible future and have excellent academic records? You got to be joking but we are adults for your kind information. They looked non-plussed and challenged by my oratory-that was what I guessed then. I still like a good laughter at that. We ended up paying 1085 without clue leave let alone the rescue from outside.The amount is weird. Do not ask me. Find and ask that guy. But I got a reason to leave him. A pretty lame one though when I told him that how much disappointed, I was for if the first rendezvous leave me with such a bad taste in the mouth,what can I expect from my future with him.

And so this fine moment of paying the fine gave an opportunity to my dad also to give me a bit of harangue after years once again. Thanks to the movie that we last saw together-‘Wake up Sid’ that the generation gap had narrowed between him and me now. I was saved from that Raghu type scolding for being a self proclaimed roadie like that friend of mine. My dad closed it by saying-look kid that’s okay for you were driving here for the first time and for even I paid them the first time I drove here in ignorance- let that be their Diwali time.I continued swiftly in that Swift moment of emotion and remembered that the last guy I dated also had a similar Swift but different emotions.

Friday, October 2, 2009


Peace I find in my mother,

Sense of exixstence in my father ,

Support in my sisters,

Trust in my friends and

Wisdom in the world.

The source of inspiration is my conscience driven by faith!

Look we are so much alike:)

Kill Pill

If I AM TO KILL SOMEONE-I need words

The idea of marrying you seems
Like the idea of the Doomsday
Like the self wrought destruction
Like another Indian- Mahabharta is imminent,
And the battle is going to last equally long,
With tirades marking its duration
Like the tortuous death of Vishwapitama,
the oldest man then alive.
Like Japan slaughtering the U.S fleet
to incur the atomic wrath.
Like the fall of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
And the aftermath still subsists.
Like Hitler’s decision and
like the Holocaust.
Like the augmentation of a World War.
Like the day of crucification.
Like I wanted to run trapped in a swamp-land.