Sunday, September 20, 2009

Permanent disorders!

The world will end
The earth will combust
The moon will rise during the day
Cats will bark
Mahatma will be fully dressed
Zombies will become kind
Or if not that
I might take my last breathe
but
There are some things which I will NEVER EVER get right!



1)the confusion between *dhai* or *dedh*.
I still say *sade ek* and *sade do* :(
(umm I don’t think I got those spellings right,what I meant was the confusion between the hindi
Words of *1.30* and *2.30*)

2) i will never get my *right * and *left* right too.:(
This disorder is there in me since birth by default.
It gets worst when am travelling in autos and ask the driver to go left and I end up pointing towards
The right.after that not only do I go in the wrong direction but also listen to the drivers curses!

3)the difference between a *tee-shirt* and *shirt* :(.oh yeah! It might be easy for all you guys,but
I cant learn the art of teling them apart,even if I supposedly learn to tell them apart for a day after constant lessons from my friends,am back to 0 the next day.

4)my wrong reflexes.:(
I just cant understand why my body reacts always in that same and oh-so-incorrect way.
And that is *closing my ears*.
Ok people don’t laugh,I know it sounds silly,but I just don’t know why-how it happens.
For example,
If am driving,and something comes ahead,I leave the steering wheel and close my ears!
If a dog move past(well am petrified of them),I land up closing me ears again.
If someone throws a ball in my direction,instead of ducking ,I close my ears again.



Well,that’s all!
I have sort off gotten used to such disorders,
It’s a part and parcel of my life now
Sort of a secret funny identity!

Friday, September 18, 2009

The graveyard


That lonely place
That haunted look
Where a world still exists
Yet after death
The ever welcoming creepy feeling
Of the innocent dead
Those Goosebumps rising
The air succumbed to sadness
Dirt engraved tombstones
Covering a life, a history yet another mystery
The dried flowers embracing the tombstones
Conveying the mourners despair
The skin and bone grave keeper
His long white beard
That moth eaten hat,
Sweeping leaves off the ground
In a motion
Immune towards the surrounding fate
The air perfumed with the smell of soil
From a freshly dug grave
As if, inviting its new guest
Innocently unaware of the broken hearts, that feeling of loss
A shadow vanishing behind the trees
The sole remaining traces of the long dead
Many fumble to go,
Hesitate to visit
Courtesy to the false rumors
But I see it as
Yet another life to be lived beyond mortality
Yet another experience
Yet another journey
Only to be explained
After embracing it!

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Way to go my pigeis!!!


Pigeons here ,pigeons there
Pigeons everywhere
Pigeons on the crook
Pigeons in your book
“o’ my darling pigeis I shalt shower thee
With wholesome wheat grains
For thou promise to hover over neha
Like a wart on the witches nose"
:P




(ok i know this is a lame poem meant for 5 yr olds
but urmm i couldn't help but write it
and dedicate it to neha,whose horrified of nothing
in this world but of pigeons)

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Mumbai \m/

A drunken man asleep on the footpath
People passing over him, beside him
No one bothered, no one concerned
A crowded BEST bus passing by
Jammed with people hanging onto their lives
A woman baking bhakris in the corner of the road outside her plastic sheet house
Her kids running around as if the roads, the cars, the street lamps, the dirt
Was their ultimate playground
Its 1 am, cars still running, people still walking, a glimmer of light still on within the building window
As if, it were just any part of the day
Just a few drops of rain
Brings the joy of a new road-pool
Trains running as if transporting half of India from station to station
People sitting on the rooftops, just like grass growing on pasture land
Here people are so immune towards blasts, to the extent that the next day
They get up, go off to work take the same route and the same train
In this place admission without donation is next to impossible
Here even the cheapest food is enjoyed by the
Richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor
It’s a place where people can live off from Rs 10 a day to Rs 10,000 an hour
It’s a city where billions is created from the poorest occupations
It’s a place where even a slum dog has paparazzi tailing around him
Starlets glitter around it
It can make nobody into a somebody and vice-versa
It has turned into a place where even sesame seed has no place
You can’t walk around without having a hundred people around you
It’s a melting pot of cultures, where in some still refrain to dissolve
It balances well between the snob south, and the primitive north
It's busy acting as the spinal cord of its nation, holding it erect
People crave to come here with sky high dreams, and ground scratch money
It might embrace it like a welcoming mother
Or cruelly cast it away
I crib, I complain……
yet i still hold on to it,love it.......
I will never ever kiss it goodbye
This is Bombay ,people
Yeh hain Mumbai meri jaan