Hey WordPress, you listenin’ ?


The blogosphere we dwell in, works in strange ways;

two years hence, it’s still an inscrutable haze

You wake up one morning, ripe with thought;

restless to mold the flux down to the dot

Proud of your work, you wait for the traffic to spike;

two days fly by, and you would kill for a single like

And then you bump into some post with a mere ten words;

the scores of comments beneath make your stomach turn inwards


“What did I do wrong?”, you ponder in vain

It’s got a voice and passion that you did not feign

It’s got pictures that enliven, and grammar that’s clean,

with humorous segues you tactfully threw in between


“Then, am I not showering enough blog love?”, you wonder

To get to the bottom, you tear your comment policy asunder

A comment begets one, no doubts there

But, what to do for two likes, to show that you care?

And what about the follows, should a follow follow one?

Then you wistfully realize you don’t have a ton

You get tired and give up at the face of concerns too many,

when you refresh your blog page and hit an epiphany


“Tis for souls like us that freshly pressed solely exists!”

Alas! That too turns out to be such an elusive tryst

Does ability trump? Or is need enough to catch your eye?

coz some posts are poignant; some make you go “Why?!”

So, WP, do your little swagger, and pretend not to hear

coz when we do arrive, we’ll more than bend your ear!


Has it been that long?

(This is my first attempt at ‘prosetry’. Well, I started to write a poem and it ended up looking like something in between)


Remember when I was almost run over, as you scampered away

afraid to know, afraid to face?

perhaps loath to look into my eyes,

afraid they might not mirror the transparent love brimming in yours

your brain—left though it is—must’ve been teeming with a zillion impulses;

yet you dug deep and plucked out an eloquent “I like you.”


But hey! Who am I to judge your acuity?

A face like pebble and a pace like snail was all I had to offer

speechless and emotionless—giving the pole I brushed past a tough fight

No wonder the cabbie misjudged the turn

If it were not for the rogue thread in my silk scarf, caught nastily in the metal mesh,

my inertia would’ve continued to cause some interesting road incidents.

Remember? The green D’day scarf?

Ohhh! Who am I talking colors with!


I think you were still walking your crazy sprint-walk

perhaps warming up for a run in case you got slapped

What if this is a prank? I thought of all your capers I shamelessly fell for

What if his friends are hiding in, ready on cue to point fingers and laugh in unison?


You looked prepared for a slap—stoic, with a pose slightly biased to the dominant right cheek

If it were indeed a prank, you had the makings of a Broadway star


I wasn’t too psyched to embark on a ride this time

So, I asked “Are you kidding with me?”, betraying all my naiveté mid-question

“No, not at all.” Phew! Not a slap so far!

“Then, are you serious?” I was the champ at asking insightful questions 

“Yeah.Yes. Of course.” You were always the glib one


Okay, this is a proposal, no doubt now. 

I have to respond, but I don’t know how

A mere “yes”?—too pedestrian

“I love you too”?—dripping with desperation

“Why did it take you so long?”—too histrionic


“Same here,” I blurted, disrupting the soliloquy

You paused a teensy bit; I bit my lip

Did my clumsy reply make him second guess? 

And then I saw—a face never quite resplendent

as if my words flushed your pallor a bright cherry red

I could’ve kissed you right then!


As I sit down today, to reminisce those moments of childlike joy, of nascent love,

all I can say is that our decade-long (and counting) tryst has had its share of tranquil drizzles, of raging tempests, and of purely transcendent Mumbai rains.


I am glad it really has been that long.

An ode to Sunday

Why should I do it?

Can’t it just wait?

A moment of unbridled peace

while I take a break

I want to pause; I want to ponder

Is it such a crime?

Why does the whole world frown

like I am idling on its dime?

I want to pace my morning; soak in the sunshine

wondering if the chirpy birds ever get to whine

I want to savor my coffee, take in every steamy waft;

listen to music daylong, caressing me like a pillow soft

I want to sit by the window dreamily staring at a random place,

imagining I’m in a movie with the camera on my face

I want to take a lazy stroll, crumbling dry leaves along

with an utterly empty mind; mindless of the right from wrong.

I know this isn’t too much to ask,

but it won’t be long before I’m given another task

I know I have to wake up and toil the very next day

which is why I write this for you, my lovely Sunday!


A slithering raven wave perched upon the eye,

ensconcing it in a spiral of sooty magnificence;

waltzing along its contours, set to her swing:


A flimsy line sketched daintily with a twirl in the tail

for the days bubbling with nostalgic childlike innocence,

a bold streak darting alike an endless winding road

on buzzing, frenzied days that could spill into the next,

a smoked, sensuous stroke doused with shimmer

for an impetuous night of pyrotechnic passion,

a sodden smudge resembling a gravely turgid rivulet

for a few moments of pure, unshackled vulnerability,

and, the remnants of a disheveled scribble of a tot

meant for languid sundays spent cuddling up to a book.


The kohl exudes no charm when bereft of an eye to enliven;

fated to be mercilessly outshone by its scarlet cousin;

yet serves as a loyal aide, seamlessly blending in

Boiling Point

The corporal’s command was loud and clear

It shot like a missile to awaken the dormant molecules

The minuscule (s) sprang into action, cascading into frenzy

Sluggish though they were, such a jolt couldn’t be evaded

The mission ahead was as inevitable as daunting

The pressure of a million barriers to surmount; many self-doubts to answer

The eons of docile submissiveness pulsed through their veins like venom, as they darted on with vigor

They had to attack; the cloying persuasion of tolerance or the emotional blackmail of sensitivity didn’t stand a chance this time

Prudence and fear were to have their faces pummeled beyond recognition, if they try and impede

The tiny beings mutated into a stream of vicious creatures with pincers ready to plunge into the soul of any resistance

The velocity was head-spinning, the heat neck-strangling, the danger of self-destruction looming large

An opening was all that was needed now, to vent, to maim, to destruct everything that lurked outside

The stream of fury met the lips and burst forth, to erupt, to gush out the lava held within

Instead, it danced like the waves of the vast sea, like the flames of a raging fire…a dance of victory, of vindication, of joy, a feeling transcending all anger



It was dark all around…
Bleak and bitter cold, it seemed endless
From nowhere came a firefly that whispered to me,
“Why do you fear the dark? You are the light!”
I felt the warmth suffuse me…….


A man…..

doesn’t wanna ever lose directions

wants his beer to never end

doesn’t wanna get caught by his girl-friend ogling at other girls

wants to be able to solve all his problems without external help

doesn’t wanna talk a lot nor listen

wants nothing to come between him and sports

doesn’t wanna ever get married, if left to him

wants peaceful time after a hard day at work instead of the “how was your day?” talks

doesn’t want to go shopping to save his life!

wants as many cars, girls and money as he wishes

doesn’t like repeating this stuff an insane number of times….people should’ve gotten it by now!