A Saree to buy

{this is my experiment with blank verse}

I got my first wage,
a thousand and two rupees,
counted the bundle of ten, hundred times,
by-hearted the serial number of each note,
thought of opening an account with the bank,
for safe keeping of these thousand and two bucks,
like my supervisor does,
but then I realised,
that for my old lady at home,
I've got a saree to buy.

Burned my skin for a month,
in the hot blazing sun,
my body would go white each evening,
by the end of my day's work,
by the salt left over it,
by the evapourised sweat,
a fruit for this hardwork,
is this thousand and two buck.
Thought of buying a Hritik Roshan trouser,
a Salman Khan shirt, an Amir Khan watch and
a Sanjay Dutt shoes,
but then I realised,
for a worker on road, this would not suit.
And so with this wage of mine,
I decided that for my old lady at home,
I've got a saree to buy.

She could wrap this saree,
on her occasional visit to temple,
on some relative's marriage,
or naming ceremony,
when the people around would complement her,
for wearing a very good looking saree,
she would be pleased having given birth to me,
who presented her with this good looking saree,
so I decided, I would keep all my desires ashore,
and for my old lady at home,
I will buy a saree for sure.

Oh! Dear East Bird

Blood Stains and Blood Sheds,
On the roads, in the trains,
Blood Stains and Blood Sheds,
Could be traced down every lanes.

Oh! Dear East Bird,
Did you wakeup just to see this.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
In this do you find your bliss.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
Why don't you sleep another day.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
Its better that you stay away.


Crying infants for their parents,
Slaughtered in the riots,
Poor Things, cant even curse the tyrants,
Responsible for these fights.

Oh! Dear East Bird,
Did you wakeup just to see this.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
In this do you find your bliss.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
Why don't you sleep another day.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
Its better that you stay away.

On this long track of caterpillar,
I am walking on away,
With my heart bruised and my soul torn apart,
I am in pain for another day.

Oh! Dear East Bird,
Did you wakeup just to see this.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
In this do you find your bliss.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
Why don't you sleep another day.
Oh! Dear East Bird,
Its better that you stay away.

Its Killing Me

Oh! My body
its overwhelming with pain,
cant even move my hands and legs,
the virus in my blood,
is causing this strain.
It has fathomed my peers,
although, there were few,
the only friend of mine now,
is the bed which I stick to.
Is it drugs,
Is it Sex,
or is it transfusion,
I dont know whats responsible,
for all this pain,
for all these tension.
The hopes,
The wishes,
that my parents had in me,
I could not come true over it,
Oh! my Lord, oh! my destiny.
God, please, relieve me of this pain,
Please make death come to me,
as early as he can.

My Encounter with Reality

Last evening as usual when I reached home from office freshened up and went to meet my pals. Each evening we sit in group and chat and backbite and evetease and gossip and fag (smoke) and few non smokers including me just sit around and chat and backbite and evetease and gossip while the smokers smoke. Last evening was no different for others but it was different for me. I was not my usual self, the usual cynosure self. I was quiet and in deep thought, thought about me, thought about myself, thought about what am I doing, thought about my purpose of my life, thought about why did Ayyappa give me birth, thought about why did he send me to this material world. I was confused literally confused. Am I going to spend my life like my father is doing, work and work and work, till your back bend, till your tummy bulge, till your head go bald, till the enumerable hair on your head go gray, till your eyes are pushed back inside its socket, till your vision blur and your eyes cant see farther than your arm length without help from an equipment called spectacles, till wrinkles shrink your otherwise shiny skin, till your thoughts are limited to well being of your family and family and family and nothing else but family, till you cant spend even a single pie on your self, till you await for someone whom you have heard of but never seen whom you might not want to see but cant avoid him. Is this the only purpose in my life? To work and work, work from hand to mouth, work so that my children can go to the best school than best college than get them married than see them leave me and become independent handling affairs of his wife and children totally ignoring me. Is this the purpose of my life,is this the purpose of life of each of us sitting here? I realised a reality that after a span of few years we wont be finding time to sit in group and chat and backbite and evetease and gossip and fag (smoke) and few non smokers including me just sit around and chat and backbite and evetease and gossip while the smokers smoke. I wanted to share this reality with others but thought otherwise and kept this reality to myself.

Scorpio - and proud to be one

This morning I thought of reading something about myself i.e. SCORPIO. I typed SCORPIO in my google searchbar and pressed search Zooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmm........... the pages with infos on Scorpio started displaying one after another. There I found this rather interesting site cyberscorpios.com fully dedicated to scorpios. I applied for membership with cyberscorpios and its pending for verification. I think all Proud Scorpios around the world should be a member of this site entirely dedicated for SCORPIOS.

Peace

Nymph of My Dream

Nymph of my Dream
Angel was she, I dreamt of her last night,
Pretty was she, I fell for her at first sight,
Real she made my dream look, walking into it,
Unreal it became again the moment she flit.

She walked into my dream, swiftly like a breeze,
Her chunri kissing, my face with ease,
Kissing by it took a piece of me,
Heart to be specific, pain that I felt was glee.

Was she an angel, Mr. Brain hollered,
Or is she a thief, she stole something of his,
This time he exploded,
Poor little brain he is such a fanatic,
Cause he thinks logic, no emotions nothing romantic.

Her hair was long, dark and light,
Like the long, shinning eternal night,
Passing by, her hair brushed my face,
Each hair moved over it with heavenly grace.

Her eyes were green, like vegetating meadow,
Each glimpse of it, cast, in my heart its shadow,
My mind hovered around her eyes like bees,
Nothing else can be more soothing, than a sight of these.

She walked like flamingos in their best fleet,
Swift and light, she moved her feet,
She was careful nothing gets hurt in her way,
Her grace would make celestial damsels to stay.

Her fragrance swallowed my whole body,
I got intoxicated as if I am on toddy,
It consumed me from head to heel,
It aroused in my heart, for her, the zeal.

She was an Angel not just my imagination,
She was so pretty she caught my fascination,
Don’t go Oh pretty lady, I heard myself scream,
Ignoring it she went away, she was the Nymph of my Dream.

My fight with Babblyaa

Everyday my journey to office requires me to take all possible land public transport available in Mumbai except for taxi. My journey starts from my residence to bus stop by 11 no bus, accompanied by a pal of mine we catch 286 or 244 no bus to Kandivli train station, than comes the most difficult the most exciting and the most risky part, jumping into the first class compartment of running 7:47 am 12 coach Borivili local from Kandivli before the train halts, in order to catch the havaaa walaaa window seat. When the train makes its way towards Churchgate from Borivli at 8:03 am this havaa walla seat helps me take a short 35 minutes nap from Borivli to Bandra. Getting down at Bandra railway station I take a rickshaw to Turner Road.

As usual I took the 11 no bus from my residence to the bus stop, my pal accompanied me when we caught the overcrowded 244 BEST bus. We made our way to the front portion of the bus so that we could manage to get down from the bus as early as possible once station arrives. Babblyaa (pet name for Bus Conductor) came to us we took our tickets. The moment we took our tickets babblyaa started blabbering at my friend asking him to move ahead, my pal responded saying there was no place to move forward, this blabber advanced into a verbal arguments, and than babblyaa did something that compelled me to react. He pushed my friend forward and threatened to beat him up, I lost my temper when he did this. Now with me involved in argument babblyaa cooled down and this small verbal conflict ended with cold looks between three of us.

These verbal arguments is nothing new for Mumbaikars we witness this everyday every moment in trains, buses on the road etc. But me involved in such a thing was new, and it took me by surprise.

About Me

I am 25 a resident Indian RI antonym of NRI a Scorpio by birth. Very much fun loving, adventurous, music appreciator, a Palmaker like the Rainmaker and athletic by health, a Mallu by birth. I created Me Mine and Myself this 10th day of October 2005 inspired by Just Me (by Shruti Nair). Thanks as loads to her.