Tuesday, October 12, 2010


Poetry is art. An art I've found to be too deep for me. But tonight, at 0044 hours on a Wednesday morning, some happenings have prompted me to resort to it. So, forgive me if it lacks structure and order and all other tosh one must keep in mind while conceiving a poem. Read.

The lens case perched atop unwashed denims,
flaunts its solution from within
the R, white and opaque while L is absconding
the eyes do a pan, 
a battered cap steals fancy
A six year association, 
revived in a jiffy!

Although the washing powder next to it,
has wiped clean most memories,
the recent ones remain 
above the transcript
 of the last five transactions.

A journey through my table
is an ordeal barely complete,
but revival and recall
promise retreat!

Badly taped currency,
 tangled ear-phones
Kotler, Kelly, Koshy and Jha's Marketing
Pune Times, Wednesday, October 6, 2010
An unkept coat
And a tired mind

I fall into my chair
A tape rewinds as the eyes close 
I feel her call, 
She nibbles on my toes

She's sick, 
her hair's lost,
she's lost her weight
diagnosed with disease
Failing everyday ...

And they snap open!
the case, the cap, the coat and Kotler
we're back again 
at our present haven

But the view is new 
and all but different

A box, A BOX!
A glowing red +
comes first to my aid
obviously signalling hope!

I forget the disease,
I relive the tiny nibble
I sigh a little,
and hazard a midnight giggle

For it's merely
a journey through my table,
an ordeal barely complete,
but revival and recall
promises retreat!

To Timon,
my beautiful child!


  1. <3 much love to you and timon !!! shell be proud if she could read what you wrote :)

  2. :-) Like you said, she will be awesome again! :)