Skilled yet killed

Standing by the
side of the road
I was awe struck
at the way you rode

Handling the throttle,
break and lights
with indomitable
elegance and might

Wondering at the
skills you stage
My routine has
seldom changed

But yoou pass me by
considering me a menace
Always with a
grin of ignorance

Look out!
.
.
.
Smash!
.
.
.
.
Thud!
.
.

Oh my dear!
Perhaps you should
have read me,
the sign board,
I was no menace
but was your hoard,
For this was what i bore

Drinking kills
Driving skills

Be it a bacardi blast
or a tequila shot
The sign holds still!

Dad's boot

One, tip toed
into the corridor
and lifted,
while the other
had inherited.

One glad with
the achievement
The other sobbing
over the pavement

One tumbling to walk
with the new loot
The other in
an inevitable mute
Both,
too young for
dad's boots

One tried out of
curiosity
The other
on account of
food scarcity!

Dedicated to all young foots inside their respective dads' boots, instead of their own.

Replica

I watched
helplessly,
something
penetrating deep
into my body

It sucked all the
gore. I cried in pain
After a while
it sent the gore
back into the vein

I was told
it would make me
feel better
But
With blood
absorbed and imbued
I probe it bitter

A REPLICA of a
creation of
the Almighty's
And they call
it,
A dialysis

Comrade with a difference

Right from the moment
I arrived in, I had
set my eyes on him
He was perfect,
stayed near the window
neat and prim

He was only a
few yards away
and only an old lady
was in between
I wondered how long
she was to stay

At the next station
she left
raising her eyebrow
I was tickled at the
very thought that
he was all mine now

A few stations
had passed
and mine was next
bidding adieu
so much gloomy
that I almost wept

Still I had to go
since SITTING
beyond my station
in a suburban train
will lead to nothing
but mere frustration

By now,
someone would have
taken him, it rather
HE is a seat near
the window, about
whom, only I bother



For all the "My dear window seat" maniacs

Of open temples and unseen idols

They invited
at least a hundred
stares
for their
striking skin tone
and blond hair

Their eyes gleaming
with awe
at the sculptures
and the magnificent
Indian architecture.

The hearts filled
with joy to see
the legendary goddess
came to a stand still
at the thought of
the long awaited moment
now becoming abyss

Since a note
mounted on the wall
read
"Only Hindus
are allowed beyond
this level"

Racism with
a difference?
Or perhaps
revenge for the
unforgettable arrogance?



I happened to see the temple authorities at the Madurai Meenakshi Temple denying darshan to a group of foreigners (of course whites as they prefer calling them) since only Hindus were allowed the darshan of the chief god and goddess.I strongly believe such an act is to be condemned at any cost. How ever they were allowed to see the other parts of the temple. "Unforgettable arrogance" here means the English reign in India.

Pony tail

Ages since
i felt your
the gentle kiss
and the
passionate stroke,
it was a bliss

Now,
you are here
I am feeling
at ease
Savoring your subtle
touch
as and when
I please

I was longing
for this
very moment
You had gone
far, leaving me
to lament

you turned into
a plat and moved
down, leaving
just a trail

doing so,
you had always
made me wail!

Thus said my neck
to the pony tail!

Prisoner of war

Eventually, they put an end
to their sleepless nights
They called it freedom, and
I was denied the rights

The right to go to school
holding HIS finger tight
The right to cuddle in HER
lap on a Saturday night

I am a Scape goat
Lying on the altar
That is what it feels like
To be a prisoner of this war

A war sans weapons
A war sans blood shed
Just a war of words
That leaves me dead!