Saturday, January 31, 2009


Today is the typhoon that soares and rises above any man’s dreams
Today is the bird which flaps its little wings in this trapped little cage of mortals
in which the walls of tyranny dissolve away….
It is today for which I should smile and thank god for his munificence
And don’t swank on my past triumphs….
Today is the biggest hope we have got which I fail to see
Like I have got a soul, which I fail to communicte with
Its in here right in my self, that’s the beauty of it
They can’t reach there,they can’t touch,it’s mine hope…
Today is my destiny,it is my eternity,it is where my salvation lies
Before and beyond,which is a veil,capricious and dissolute
I am still in the past , gloating
I am not in the present , living
I was perhaps in the path of a tornado..waited to confront it
Just didn’t thought that it would last as long……
Yesterday was surely someone’s grave ,
tommorrow is also surely very far away
but yes ! I have got today for someone who’s brave
Today is the day I had been looking for,
Today is the way,on which I must move on…
Perhaps today is the hay on which this sun shines for perpetuality……..
His judgement cometh and that right soon…


Somewhere Else

A stone to a hill,
to a sky, to a cloud;
the wind to the seas,
to the end, to a shroud.

The love to a memory,
to remembrance, to pain;
the eager lying meadows,
to a never giving rain.

The eagle to the pharoah,
to the message, to words;
denial and desperation,
to flocks of birds.

The tear to an answer,
to endlessness, to start;
the indeliblene scar,
of your tear on my heart.

Beacause some dreams really never let you sleep.

Friday, January 30, 2009


you're too old for fairytales they say
not too old to take a hit
get lost, or maybe find another way
to lose yourself bit by bit

lights burn through the moonlit sky
the starry holes clearer that ever
blind yourself, as much as you try
dreams were never supposed to be all that clever

so stay,
wont you listen to me play
the night is for lovers they say
and you wont know the dawn anyway

burnt rubber smell on that outside town road
of failed escapes,
well know ways, you got lost in
lost dreams that never had much shape

lights haunt my blinding dreams
they drive the madness to play
plagued with horrors; not to be seen
horrors, leave and come as they may

so stay,
till the winds take you away
for once time must stop, have pause
because time is as fleeting as it always was

amidst dark feelings so intense
a life lived fuller makes so much sense
the curve leads you into the night
one that's just begun, will be done in a trice

stay, choke on that hollow cry
not because you can, or want to
but with a strong urge to fly
you've got nowhere to fly to

i cannot and will not take entire credit/brickbats for this .. co-written at best

La Pluie (The Rain)

By Maansi Verma, Chief Ed PEC (Bow)

Ever had a failed conversation? You try so hard to speak to a dear old friend but there is no response. You have been trying her number for the last week, but nobody answers. Or worse, you are sitting in front of her, talking to her and she chooses to ignore you.
La Pluie is a failed conversation with the rain.
(written in singapore, where the rain is like a daily sitcom)

A few words exchanged,
even in distressing winter,
words of scorn and wrath and jibes,
we fought 'cause i disliked,
her dark depressing steps
on the bright threshold of my doorstep,
at morn, at night.

But summer was bright chatter
she would visit often,
and was at her playful best
would leave a basket of roses,
always, at my doorstep.

Here, she's always around,
only looking for a gap in time,
But she doesn't speak
(apart from scary thunder),
I wait and watch,
I try so hard to listen.

Not even the sound of a beating heart.

I sat in sheltered land,
and watched her go.
Wistfully, I pondered,
Maybe she talks a foreign tongue,
Maybe her voice to me is noise,
Maybe she finds me uninteresting,
Maybe she's just too shy,
Maybe she just can't find the right start.

I try so hard to listen,
Not even the sound of a beating heart.

Un-lady Luck

(By Mayank Raina) :P

Lady luck go easy
in those glittering high heeled boots
Don't try to hide your conscience
in redundant business suits
They all know in good earnest
that your miserly attire,
is not your own but taken on
a paltry three week hire

Lady luck i'll give you this,
you've got a funny bone
Your humor is contemporary
and all of it your own
go bask in the warmth of cynical smiles
and half sardonic laughter
but out of sheer curiosity
what are you finally after?

So Let's play this game of shifting blame
and you can be my muse
You say your thing and i won't say mine
and we'll respect each others' views
I'll take you out on a seaside lunch
and we can work on your future ploys
but don't stumble now in those high heeled boots
Be a lady, show some poise


This a poem written by Latika when she was still in school. I always smile after reading this one

Swifter than a torrent meandering down the hill,
More colorful than a butterfly sitting on the window-sill,
Stronger than a tornado whirling all around,
But softer than a rain-drop falling on the ground.
Fiercer than lightning incinerating the earth,
But more tender than a blossom coming to birth.
Brighter than the stars,
Brighter than sunlight,
And still darker than the cloudy moonless night.
Clearer than the sun rising from behind the mountains so high,
But more perplexing than the Aurora in the sky,
More frivolous than the waves in the ocean,
Twirling in the waters like a magic potion.
Flying like a tiny chirruping bird,
Soon evanescing into the clouds above the earth.
Such are the notions ahead as well as behind,
Such are the thoughts bewildering the human mind.


Hello to the budding SAASC poets..I can see creativity flowing already and a lot of us pushing ourselves to be more expressive.

I will be putting up a few poems now, written by some from the senior year, who have been into amateur poetry for some time now, You may take ideas if you wish to. Kokil has already posted a poem. I'll be putting up one written by Latika when she was still a schoolgirl. So you have awide variety to choose from. Please feel free to contact anyone for any assistance...

Have fun guys

The Salt Of A Tear

The salt of a tear touched my lip

Tickling my cheek across the path it had traveled

The wetness of the rain matted my hair across the floor

And I shuddered in the February wind

Pressed hard against cold marble some more

Wanted to scream something out, but the words escaped me

An echo of a name hammered against the wall of my mind

Yet I couldn’t grasp it

Wanted to tell someone something

Anyone, anything, maybe a story…

But the words wouldn’t take form

A box clamped so deep so tight inside

every peek … broke a part of me every time

the only reality was what flipped through my fingers

its edge my surety, the sharpness its proof

a blue vein snaked through my hand

ready to be let loose, and bask in its freedom

the first pinch across the wrist, something within loosened a bit

just a bit…

a breadth of peace passed through me…

drop by drop my blood flew out

my vision began to blur,

the name in the echoes began to clear

and my heart beat thumped loud in my ear

a story began to form its lines

as everything began to fade away

the box finally snapped open

revealing its secrets

restoring a part of me

**comment well...da poem needs it

Bang Boom Smash!!

Bang goes the bullet thru the doors
Boom goes the bomb amidst the snores
Smashing went a city beside the sea shore
Burnt. crashed. spent
The tale of a city with its life on rent
Slithering into the night
They had no mission, no fright
Boring lives of boring people
Turned exciting in the blink of an eye
The time had come for people to rise
To learn that money isn’t the only prize
Intermingling between the classes and the masses
They saw no difference in the body masses
A life is a life
Worth to be taken
No one stirred, no one shaken
They came. They saw. They almost conquered
But alas! They would have almost prospered
Some rose above the lines of duty
They fell to rise up in glory
The end wasn’t pretty
It was bloody n gory
All the reporters saw, was a good story
The rise and fall of unsung heroes
The helplessness of people, the face of villains
An award worthy story of their crimes and their pains
A few days later, the storm had died
A few people laughed and fewer cried
Girls wandering in their skimpy clothes
Guys following them in their fancy shoes
Cars still running at the speed of snails
The spirit of the city was up for sale
There was other important work to be done
And we shall wait another day to be stunned!!

Seven Days

I juggle my Mondays with Sunday blues
And always choose slippers over high heeled shoes
On Tuesdays I buy flowers and 'phone my friends
On Wednesdays I daydream about the coming weekend
Thursdays I have classes, Fridays are a bore
Anticipation of Friday night leaves me sleepy and sore
Saturdays whistle by without much ado
And on Sundays I wish I was closer to you

So on Monday I wake up with Sunday blues
And juggle my feelings as I choose my shoes
Ticking things off my checklist doesn't help to get them done
International calls to everywhere takes away all the fun
On Wednesdays I'm hurting in the strangest places
And I stare at the crowd as I yearn for old faces
I haven't done my homework, and Thursday's already here
On a whim I'll want to check out the cheapest air fare..

The routine numbs me, the memories leave me bereft..
You'll call, my voice sounds blurry, you'll just think I slept.
I'll weave daisies and sunshine into my little speech
And I'll talk about funny happenings and reminisce about the beach
I'll listen to your stories and make the right sounds
And I'll want to know all about the rumours doing the rounds--
But catch the break in my voice, catch me before I fall
Or there won't be any pieces left to pick up, at all.

Sorry, it's been very long since I wrote poetry..

Thursday, January 29, 2009


I feel a little blue this week, for reasons not known to me completely, and at the end of it all, I take refuge in my safe little blogesque haven. This week we let our creativity run riot, and the dream compass directs us to the wondrous world of poetry.

So a poem a week it is that we are looking at from everyone..As whacky, or as sombre as u want, looking forward to a wide range of creative diversity.

And it really isn't that hard..As i blundered sufficiently to say
My girlfriend's stuck in spain
and she's having labour pains

sigh...Its not that three entries will be mentioned seperately

The Fall

He had been dead before, and he was dead now. He had been dead before he had jumped and yes, he was definitely dead now. Children around him had grown up attempting to understand everything their lives had to offer; the security of a family, the love of a sibling, the innocence of youth and every other emotion that colored their lives. His eyes had never felt colors, or beauty, and so his heart had accepted darkness as a part of life. And death was the only thing he had ever truly understood about life. It had been his mother and sisters first, raped and burned alive. Then it had been his father. That was when he had died, only that his breath hadn’t left him.
He had been too young to understand religion then. And he had never really been sure ‘which’ people had destroyed his family and with it, his life. The anger and the tears had led to loneliness. Alone, he had been incapable of everything.  But life always finds a way. His mind taught him to steal, and his mindset taught him to survive.
The meeting with the messengers had been a coincidence. They said they had a message for him, a message sent by God. They had made him remember his grief. The scene of his family’s death had always flashed in front of his eyes, but never before had it been so clear. His pain had never before been so apparent, his mind, never so obsessed. They spoke of retribution, and revenge. He had been powerless when they had been killed, but the messengers could give him power now. They spoke of the revolution, and sacrifice. He had been chosen for heaven by God himself, but before that, he had a final duty to perform. He had to avenge his family’s death. ’They’ had to be killed. His mind was a blank slate, and the messengers left no stone unturned to fill it with a deadly vengeance.
The training was grilling, but it gave him a reason to breathe, a reason to be. He was explained his final duty. The bomb would explode on sudden impact with the ground, they told him. His means of revenge, and of reaching heaven was strapped around his body.  For the first time in his life, he anticipated something. Revenge was sweet.

There was never a dearth of visitors in the valley. The orange of the sun filled the sky as the vibrancy of life filled the air. The hills separated the valley from the waters on the other side. Everything from the setting exuded tranquility. Except for the man on top of the hills, bound by revenge. He felt the soft rubber across his chest, his key to freedom. All that was left to do now was to jump. The young child in the valley looked up at him for an instant, and then went back to playing with his car. It was then that he jumped. The hills were high, and gravity just didn’t seem fast enough. It was as if he was gliding through the air, reaching his final destination. And he was happy, because he knew he had done the right thing. He closed his eyes just before the final impact and smiled his first smile in a long time, and his last.
The young child was completely engrossed with his red car. The cold air from the mountains blew across his young face, and there wasn’t a care in the world. He looked up at the sudden noise of splashing waters that vibrated through the air. His brain was too young to comprehend that a man had just fallen into the lake beyond the hills, or even that his innocent smile to a stranger on the hilltop had changed the fate of many around him, or that his innocent look had made someone realize that this was not the enemy he was seeking, neither was this the conclusion he had ever anticipated. The sudden noise was forgotten. His wonderful red car was so much more important. 

Wednesday, January 28, 2009


the colors of my life...
they seemed so few
in the shades of my melancholy,
i found no other hue...

the shadow of my past...
it loomed over me,
my obsession,my passion
my zahir was all there could be!!

my dawn was dark,
my dusk,grey!!
my life was possessed,
the thoughts i realized were there to stay!!

i sat down in the calm of my wails,
i sat down in the dry of my tears,
she never was there,in my empty world,
she never stood by me,in the worst of my fears!!

when she was there,my life was bright,
always her name on my lips,her love by my side...
her thoughts were all over mein wake and in siesta
her verve, her ardour made everyday a fiesta

but now am stranded,
on the forlorn island of life..
im looking for a ray of warmth at the portal..
i wanna live again, my zahir isn’t be immortal!

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

melting point

And so I sat and pondered,

How blue the house over yonder,

Sewn from brick and stone,

Howbeit it fell at dawn.


Ink blotched parchments, a prophet lost for words, visions of flames engulf;

a crimson horizon shall judge, the hubris of the world.

On the pedestal of vanity, the blue blooded prince commands, sardonic the mighty armies wield swords harbinger o’ crusade.

Silence of the battle rages, deafening cries of war, a lone shriek of a banshee and a thousand arrows of love.

Pawns’ blind amour, innocuous true faith, string of a melody, before the carnage of hate.


Zoschphrneiic, a schizophrenic.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Quiz conducted by Madhur

Hello all

As we laze in on an extra long Republic Day weekend and explore our patriotic roots, here lie the details of the quiz conducted on 21st Jan by Madhur Behl. 15 teams took part in the prelims and 6 were shortlisted for the finals...Those who stayed the length of the quiz were witness to a typical Madhur Behl quiz routine, full of sharp wit and work-outable questions, some that got the audience beaming for the sheer elegance they carried.

Here lie the results of a very high scoring quiz

Position 1...Vinayak and Abhinav Saini (110 points)
1st runners up...Aman Oberoi and Anand ( 105 points)
2nd runners up...Mayank Raina and Vaibhav Nangia (95 points)

The quiz was a see saw all through with the top three teams exchanging the first position a number of times. But a series of direct hits by Vinayak and Abhinav pushed them over...Congrats to the winners...Here are some of the questions from the quiz

For the PDF of the entire quiz, e mail me at

THE 2.5 $ QUIZ

PRELIMS (picture questions haven't been put here)..There were a total of 17 questions in the prelims

-Which is the most purchased musical
instrument in the world ?

-What does the following sequence
good- home- gone-hood-hoof-hone

-What does the following sequence
good- home- gone-hood-hoof-hone

-If you are playing ‘whites’ in the game
of chess, how many opening moves
are possible?

-People featured in a single video
Amitabh Bachchan, Mithun Chakraborty, Kamal
Hasan, K.R.Vijaya, Revathi, Jeetendra, Waheeda
Rehman, Hema Malini, Tanuja, Sharmila Tagore,
Shabana Azmi, Deepa Sahi, Om Puri, Dina Pathak
(Actors: Film and T.V.) Mallika Sarabhai (Dancer)
Mario Miranda (Cartoonist) Mrinal Sen (Filmmaker)
Bhimsen Joshi, M Balamuralikrishna, Lata
Mangeshkar (Singers) Narendra Hirwani, S
Venkataraghavan, Prakash Padukone, Arun Lal, PK
Banerjee, Syed Kirmani (Sportsmen), Meenakshi
Which ‘video’ ?

-“ There is a bad M and a good M, and
we have gone through the transition”.
Who said this?

-This is the opening line of which book–
“______ was beginning to get very tired
of sitting by her sister on the bank, and
of having nothing to do: once or twice
she had peeped into the book her sister
was reading, but it had no pictures or
conversations in it, `and what is the use
of a book,’ thought ______ `without
pictures or conversation?”



-T9 representation of the number 1443

-3 moves

-Mile Sur Mera tumhara (the standard doordarshan video which formed a part of our black and white childhood)

-Ratan Tata
(Bad M and good M refers to Mamta
Banerjee & N. Modi respectively)

-Alice in Wonderland

Some of the questions from the finals

1. An unusually large canon which was mounted on the
protective wall of "St. Mary's Wall Church" in
Colchester, England. It was intended to protect the
Parliamentarian stronghold of Colchester which was
in the temporarily in control of the Royalists during
the period of English history, described as the English
Civil War ( 1642 - 1649). A shot from a Parliamentary
canon succeeded in damaging the wall underneath
causing the canon to fall to the ground. The Royalists
attempted to raise this canon on to another part of
the wall but failed in their task and Colchester fell to
the Parliamentarians after a siege lasting eleven
weeks.What owes its origin to this incident?

2. Before the Ranji Trophy the only organised
cricket tournament in India was the
Bombay Pentagular .
Four of the teams were the Europeans,
the Parsees, the Hindus and the
Which was the fifth team?

3. The company ________ futuristics is the sole
distributor of
Walther Arms (A German Arms Manufacturer) in
India. Who is the CEO of this company?

4. Alleged ‘facts’ about X:
X can count up to infinity.
X can compute the result of dividing a number
by 0.
X also managed to compute the terminal digit
of pi.
Who is X?

5. He was born in Pondicherry and his middle
name is Nelliyatil. Nelliyatil means ‘a lovely full
moon night’ in Malayalam.
Since he grew up in the US he opted to literally
translate his tongue twisting middle name to
English. He started off great in what he does,
blowing us out of our senses but lately he has
been criticized for his work and has been in
news for his not so happening professional
Who is this guy?

6. On March 1, 1978, his corpse was stolen by a
small group of Polish and Bulgarian mechanics
in an attempt to extort money from his
family.The plot failed, the robbers were
captured, and the corpse was recovered
eleven weeks later near Lake Geneva. His body
was reburied under two metres of concrete to
prevent further attempts .Which famous
personality is being talked about..??

7. When Ayrton Senna died in an accident at
the Imola Circuit in 1994, yet another
driver was seriously injured, but he was
fortunate enough to recover fully and
continue his F1 racing career.
He raced seasons for both Ferrari and
Honda in subsequent years, and became
the most experienced driver in F1 history.

8. The 13th century brothels of Paris were the
first to have done what, following a royal
order that they should use something to
demarcate themselves from normal

9. Usain Bolt's personal best of 9.69 seconds
in the 100 metres is the fastest ever legal
Tyson Gay recorded a time of 9.68 s at the
2008 US Olympic Trials, but IAAF nullified
its inclusion as a world record.
Obadele Thompson's run of 9.69 s in 1996
is also not recognised for the same
What was ‘illegal’ about these runs ?

10. It includes the following features:
Latent image
Opticaly variable ink
Back to back registration
What is it ?

11. This comic strip was originally set in India, with
the main protagonist’s ancestors being killed by
‘Singh brotherhood’ and his 20th ancestor being
killed by ‘Rama’.
However, once the comics were introduced in
India, the story shifted base to Africa, with the
names changed so they wouldn’t offend Indian
sensibilities. This was later made into a
television series and then into a movie as well.
What am I
talking about?

12. A strengthened 12-foot (4 m) wallof timber and earth
was created by 1653 as a defense against attack from
various Native American tribes, New England
colonists, and the British. The wall was dismantled by
the British in 1699. And while the original name
referred to the Walloons ( a french colony), the
present name of this place was taken to refer to the
wall that once was here.
On January 26, 2000, the band Rage Against The
Machine filmed the music video for "Sleep Now in
the Fire" at this place, which was directed by Michael
What is being spoken of ?


1. Humpty Dumpty........The canon was called Humpty Dumpty.(term
used in 15th century England to describe
someone who was fat).
Humpty Dumpty fell to the ground. The Royalists
('all the King's men‘) attempted to raise
Humpty Dumpty on to another part but failed :D

2. The Others

3. Abhinav Bindra

4. Chuck Norris (from the Chuck Norris impossible to believe fact)

5. M Night Shayamalan

6. Charlie Chaplin

7. Rubens Barichello

8. Hung red lamps outside their doors -
and hence, origin of the term red light

9. Due to excessive ‘tail wind’

(Tyson Gay was aided with a tail wind of
4.1 m/s, exceeding the legal limit of
2.0 m/s set by the IAAF..
• Obadele Thompson's run of 9.69 s in
1996 aided by a 5.0 m/s tail wind. )

10. The Indian Currency Note

11. Phantom Comics

12. The Wall Street

The finals of course had many more interesting questions including a number of picture questions...You are free to comment in case there's anything new to add from your end...Happy Quizzing

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Gandhi Is Watching...

When the vendor counts and sighs in grief as the sun sets.
Gandhi is watching
When the beggar drags himself on the darke gravel in traffic.
Gandhi is watching
When the criminal minds shape the laws and hand the 'donations'.
When she rests in red and gold and watches her life carried away.
When the lights glow and children run from door to door.
When she combs her hair after a hard days night in those 4 walls.
Gandhi is watching.
When the robust seth chews his pan as he lifts it to the sun.
When the tears drop from tied hands and terrorising phone calls.
Gandhi is watching.
He sighs at us and wonders whether this was what he dreamed of.
Whether this was his dream.
To be sold as ransom or to be talked worse of.
An 80 year old had once held him tightly as he lay on his deathbed.
Crying for a way, crying for salvation.
As his final words escaped, he asked.
"Where has Gandhi gone ?"
And today with his hearty smile and frivolous vigor
He watches.
Watches through those circular frames
Watches this country rise on hopes, and burn in flames.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Obituary For a Past

"Burn them."

A two-word order to end all that had been, before heralding the happiness to come. An decision briefly and briskly made by a practical woman before turning back to dust her racks and shelves, a decision to obliterate the memories and photographs of another's smiling, happier past before the foundation was laid for a new beginning.

The photo albums were in a stack by my feet. Kicking together a pile of dry leaves and twigs, I held a lighted match to it and the blaze began. I was the human photo-shredder for now, tearing old memories into mean little bits that would smoulder, melt and darken away into burnt photo paper. The odor of burning chemicals rose with the smoke and I hastened to add more leaves to the fire. There was a lot to burn, and to make sure I did a good job, I could only burn a few at a time.

Smiling, happy people. The Big excited eyes and a childlike happy smile, thrilled at surreal experiences, giddy with joy at perfect times. Random pictures, beautifully shot, capturing the shy hues of nature at dawn. Profound peace in the big eyes, a lingering aura so strong that you could almost reach out and touch it. Before shredding and burning every pile, I'd hesitate-- is there anything in this pile I could save instead? The mid-morning sun was filtering through the the leaves of the tree overhead and looking over my shoulder at the little fire I was feeding. In the backyard of an uninhabited house, a sullen stillness found its voice in the odd crackling monologue of a few burning leaves and memories. Some ashes rose with the smoke, dancing as they burned, carried away by the breeze for a flight of fancy. The chemicals on the pictures melted till they turned an incoherent blotchy brown, then pitch black.

An acute tug at my heart and a persuasive voice would stay my hand, Maybe I'll save just this one?

These memories were not mine to have; they're not mine to keep..

I shut my mind off and let my hands and eyes take over. The flames were feeble; I very nearly had to set each individual shred aflame towards the end of the process. My back felt hot from the direct sun and the imagined heat of dozens of piercing stares from neighbours-- What could she be so desperate to destroy? Rivulets of sweat trickled down my face, my arms were tired of working so fast and my brain was tired of the questions I wouldn't let myself think about.

But half an hour later, the cremation was finally over. I carefully sifted through the embers with my foot to ensure that no glowing happy faces remained and no emphatically written words survived.

The photo albums, now empty, lay in a broken pile in the corner of a once-flourishing vegetable garden, now overrun with weeds. They're an unwelcome obituary to their lost contents. Everyone wishes they didn't exist. No one's going to pick them up and bring them inside. They lost the glossy happy people they were populated with, to a terrible, mean act of nature, commonly known as Fate.

Friday, January 9, 2009

His Last Wish

Stark darkness engulfs him here,
Three bare walls and barred view.
A stony floor, like a piercing spear
And a tattered mat lying askew.
Twice a day the bars give way,
Measly morsels enter his den.
Twice a day he kneels to pray,
His pulse flutters, his eyes open.
A hidden hole in the roof of his cell
Lets in the sunlight on the sly.
The pale moonlight creeps in as well
As the hours go crawling by.
And then unbidden comes the haze,
The moonlight and that haunting wait;
A vision of his mindless chase,
Fuelled by mere doctored hate.
But for a tiny soul crying in grief,
His eyes met his and held him there.
A split second that shook his belief,
A split second,he was caught unaware.

Now he lay under the moonlight again,
To wait, to pray, to pay for his deed.
Yet he wondered if his penitent pain,
Would heal so many hearts that bleed.
He wondered if they would ever write,
An obituary for tainted souls like his;
But perhaps someone would get it right,
And tell them about his last wish.

They would write of his life of sin and doubt ,
Where love and reason could wait,
A moment of compassion turned him about,
But by then it was too late.
He wished for none to follow,
He wished for none to go astray,
He wished not a world of sorrow,
He wished for a bright new day.

He wished for these last thoughts as well,
For his obituary to truly convey,
But here he was in his tiny cell,
There was nothing he could do or say
So even as his end painfully neared,
Even as the noose coiled around,
For those who followed him he feared,
Prayed for the redemption he had never found.

P.S : Better late than never

Tuesday, January 6, 2009


She had it in her. The muse she searched for each night before going off to sleep. Her books would remain open on her study table as she tilted her head on the wall, closing those beady eyes of hers for just a moment or two. Feeling the tip of her braces with her tongue, she stayed motionless just doing nothing. A silent tune would pass, sometimes a familiar face would flash by. Her dad would too.

It had been more than 7 years since she had last seen him. Her Mom had always told her that he had just had too much of his life and so he had left. She never did believe that story. Although she was just about 2 when her dad had left, she always felt like she had been there forever. The cream coloured walls bent as shadows hiding her in the shade and she still had her eyes closed. Green colored sandals shifted an inch there and a little there as the toes of her feet wiggled with the chilly cold. A smile had just come to her lips. The pink half torn lips had not seen what her eyes had, yet they stretched their best to get that curve. Atop her blonde hair perched a clip that hadn’t been replaced since she first found it on the street below. It had fallen from a lady’s purse as she ran to catch her bus. The lips were still bent in a curve, the clip too wondered where this smile had come from.

She finally opened her eyes, pushed her spectacles up the incline of her nose and squinted to look at her books. She picked up a pen, warmed it a little in the candle, jerked it twice, thrice for good luck and then wrote:

“This is an ad for my father, who disappeared 7 years back. He looks like Al Capone but without the cigar. I’ve left the title empty for you to fill it up, incase you’ve seen him alive, please put MISSING and incase you’ve seen him sleeping, please put OBITUARY. Either way, please reply on the following address…

Last week!

A Blizzard of snow
Makes the world go slow
A ray of shine
Makes a bad Monday fine
Alabaster,Armenta and Orscenia
All of Tuesday's colours in my head
Sleeping through Wednesday on my bed
The flowers continue to wilt away
The worries seem to come and stay
Trafficking my sorrows and peddling my grief
Ir realize i have woken but am still in my briefs
My destiny lay elsewhere
I was treading the wrong path
Questions never cease to end
Why is a curve also a bend
A bump in the path
or a runway to glory
Art on Thursday
Tiredness of the body
Friday night mayhem for Saturday night derby
A day's chore a night of slumber ,
excuse me could i have ur phone number
Add me to your shopping cart
Eat in or takeaway
Keep or use and throw away
A xerox copy of my feelings put up for sale on eBay
Some bids come, someone will take them away
and maybe remember to die another day
By Sunday all shall be gone and little to stay

Death of the Dark Lord

Imprison my opaque soul
A reflective bottle should do
With a liquid cork to protect
My fake innocence prevails

Rotate me downside up
Stomach vaporized to gas
The cold wind drifts it away
Find me flaming airbags
And empty containment trees

Don't leave a sour residue
A sour taste in my heart's glass
In my heart it breathes
But it escaped yesterday

A woody touch splinters you
Soft pain like heavy garlands
Oh! New and improved potion
Who said your wine is potent

Bred by a crushing mom
My juices touched oxygen
Stained by brother's blood
Yet not blessed
By sisterly love

Don't leave a sour residue
A sour taste in my heart's glass
In my heart it breathes
But it escaped yesterday

Childhood memories as dark as stone cellars
Barren like my vision of life
Waiting for my blood to mature
Metallic smell of fermented gore

Don't leave a sour residue
A sour taste in my heart's glass
In my heart it breathes
But it escaped yesterday

I pine for total concentration
Don't need information or taste
Just burn soluble remains
No more pain
My vines entertain

Friday, January 2, 2009

A lover's obituary

When do I write your obituary
there’s no respite from tears,
for materialized has my worst fear
I have lost he who was most dear

Why do I write your obituary
it’ll make me think you’re gone,
while in my heart I know
you’ll wake me up next dawn

What do I write in your obituary
the more that’s said the less,
if it fails to do justice to your life
I’ll be left with nothing but regret

How do I write your obituary
the ink, my tears will smear
perhaps I should use my blood
your name has rushed in it for many years

Where do I write your obituary
I feel your presence in every place
for the love you have for me
transcends boundaries of time and space

But if I do end up writing your obituary
there’s one thing of which I’m sure,
by the end of your obituary
I’ll be joining you, my dear....

Changes at the helm in 2008-(for discussion on Jan 3)

PEC finally got a waste disposal expert, Mr. Manoj Dutta as its full-time Director and there was the much talked about seat swap between TPO and DSW with Mr KK Garg being the new TPO and Mr ML Gupta being the new DSW.
In 2009: Like it or not, PECUT will gain currency over PEC just as Mumbai did over Bombay.
Chandigarh and Around
A BJP-SAD-CVM alliance swept to power in Mayoral elections in the city. And the Deputy Chief Minister of Haryana, Chander Mohan(read Chand Mohammed), managed to woo a former Law officer Anuradha Bali(read fiza) by writing a 140 page love letter. They married in secret and he was duly given the sack.
In 2009: Congress is on its way to the Mayoral Chair. Last heard, Chand Mohammad was busy writing a 200 page letter.
Assembly elections were held In Delhi, Rajasthan, Chattisgarh, Madhya Pradesh, J&K, Mizoram. BJP lost Rajasthan and Ashok Gehlot was sworn in as Chief Minister. J&K voted overwhelmingly for democracy with over 60% voting. After Abdullah’s fighting over the Chief Minister’s Chair on live television, Congress High Command decreed that Omar Abdullah, 38 years of age, would be the 3rd Abdullah to become Chief Minister of J&K.
Mumbai massacre and Disaster tourism after that forced Chief Minister of Maharashtra and his deputy to resign. Ashok Chavan and Chagan Bhujbal were the replacements.  The attacks finally forced ‘serial dresser’ Shivraj Patil out of Home Ministry and brought in P Chidambaram from the Finance Ministry.  And now the PM is doubling up as FM with someone giving the analogy that, the sight of a finance file gave him a look in his eye that other men got “when seeing a Playboy centrefold”.
In 2009: THE General Election and of course, Mayawati’s  53rd Bday
Our Neighbors
“Change is not a luxury, desired only by residents of the developed world. It animates citizens of less fortunate nations, whose democratic institutions might be disparaged as fledgling, but whose enthusiastic aspirations would be harder to dismiss. In our neighborhood, the year began with elections ending military rule in Pakistan, and closed with elections ending military rule in Bangladesh — those last with a turnout of over 80 per cent, in a rebuke to those who would condemn politics as unconnected to ordinary people.” - Indian Express, Jan 1, 2009
In 2009: War with Pakistan?
“In one of the craziest elections in American history, he overcame a lack of experience, a funny name, two candidates who are political institutions and the racial divide to become the 44th President of the United States.” -TIME Magazine while naming him Person of the year 2008
In 2009: "I don't have a crystal ball," Obama says. The world cannot afford for him to fail.

Happy New Year to You all
President, USA
Barrack Obama (to be sworn-in)
George Bush
Vice-President, USA
Joe Biden (to be sworn-in)
Dick Cheney
Secretary Of State, USA
Hillary Clinton(to be sworn-in)
Condoleeza Rice
Secretary Of Treasury, USA
Timothy Garner(to be sworn-in)
Henry Paulson
President, Pakistan
Asif Ali Zardari
Pervez Musharraf
President, Bangladesh
Khaleda Zia
Iajuddin AHMED
Finance Minister
Manmohan Singh
P Chidambaram
Home Minister
P Chidambaram
Shivraj Patil
Chief Minster, Rajasthan
Ashok Gehlot
Vasundhra Raje
Chief Minister, J&K
Omar Abdullah(to be sworn-in)
Ghulam Nabi Azad
Chief Minister, Maharashtra
Ashok Chavan
Vilasrao Deshmukh
Director, PEC
Manoj Datta
Vijay Gupta
ML Gupta
KK Garg
KK Garg
ML Gupta