Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Mumbai Rains

A view from a balcony from a distance too far
I see
Images on net of my town submerged in misery
Rain is lovely but there is no escape for water to run smoothly down the flowing drains
Images of clogged water at places blocked by thrash
Broken roads open potholes,
Traffic slower than snail
At signal they check their mail of latest updates on twitter to find the road that is safe
Perched here in my balcony some thousand miles away glad to escape the discomfort of Mumbai rains

I am Guru

I am my own Guru, 
I control my mind, 
I can weigh the right from wrong,
My thought can be called divine.
I look out of my window, 
there is solitude in the air, 
the sea and sky is calm, 
the birds sing freely with flair...
The universe takes care of me, 
It listens my whispered tones, 
I have no need to worry
because I am always with
My self......

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Lazy Attitude

What you do with your time
there are so many hours in a day
no time you complain, really?
I often see you

Maybe you have no time for me
its all excuses you make
its your loss, i believe
from my mind you soon will be

Friday, July 12, 2013

Dreadful Poem : SunSet and Moon

there is a moon outside my window
its not indian
there is no woman waiting on the terrace
to offer it water or milk
no pampering or fuss over it
it stands there alone over the horizon
watching its own reflection in the sea

It winks at setting sun
who cares not for an ardent fan
blushes too much on its own
in its self praise
spreading its red color
over the bosom of clouds

Moon just shines
unlike its cousin in India
that entralls people on every festival
this Spanish moon
seduces only me....

Barbie Doll

why should Barbie doll be slim and beautiful
why doesn't her flaws show?
why does she always have a kindness writ on her fact
why does she seem so perfect?

Millions of women across the world
of various colors, shapes and hue
are accepted in society for their talent
its nothing to do with her physical attribute

but they never manufacture a barbie
that limps or retards or has a missing finger
its always (like on FB) a photoshopped profile
that is easy to accept.

Are they afraid, it will not bring sales
it will lie for ever on rejected shelf
like recluse woman, judged and stoned
because she belonged to strangest clan

Experienced Cook

nobody is born cook
one learns by experiments
little burn, little cut
sometimes salt much too much
practice makes one perfect
its the art that grows with interest
just lentils and rice is also meal
but variety is break from routine
cakes, sweets, happy desserts
briyani, puloa a royal treat
flushed face, greasy hands
warm heart, tummy full
a talented cook brings joy
a grateful smile that warms the soul

Saturday, July 06, 2013


There is no need to purse your lips
its people that tweet and birds that greet

Don't raise your brow
you read between lines
analyze the rest from words in rhymes

Frowns have changed 
so have smiles
tears go unnoticed for thousand miles

Each on their own
with liquid mind
trust me and let me on my own

Tuesday, July 02, 2013

Nonsense Verse - Broken Eggs

Thousands of eggs 
fell off the truck on a sunny day
Crashed and immediately 
turned into omelettes
Laid flat, 
stretched leisurely on a tar road
Till the baker arrived 
to lift them off into their breads
Sandwiches were made and 
served from diamond studded plates
As morning breakfast 
for rich babus and 
lungi dressed heavy shiekhs.

Nonsense Verse - Books I read

Long time ago enid blyton
i did read
When there were 
no million checks and greed
Not even portly
in my news feed
Those were the times 
I wrote prose for my writers breed

Wrote i thousand pages 
with closed eyes
Nobody guessed true stories 
behind my lies
Friends bought chocolates sweets 
infested with flies
I would celebrate my success 
in club with guys

Alas in rough times now we live
Prose has changed to portry..
can u believe

Burn I the oil to write and rave
But earn no penny, 
nothing to save

Private Island

I often retreat to my own private island
Block myself from the mainland
Sit I in solitude reading my thoughts
Undisturbed by outside worldly taunts
The peace I get from blowing winds
Of the happy times wrapped in bliss
Its is just me, and my pleasant memories
Under the friendly clouds we sit

art by Enrique Ochotorena

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