Little girls singing

Little girls singing rhymes,
daughters of my many friends,
I got no wife or daughter,
to wear me down,
or make merry,
there is an ache for sure,
but I do have space and freedom.
All pitifully query why single,
what to say,
there is a flame for fame,
just to stop nagging questions,
for when famous,
being single becomes my prerogative.

There for me

There for me,
prepared a business,
serving sumptuous food,
seven days a week,
which in reality,
is nothing short of slavery,
yearning for identity,
me sucked in to drudgery,
hope to grow in to the role,
not compromising writing,
for seek to remembered,
not for food for palette,
but rather for food for thought.


Waded in the drunken river,
as it danced and turned,
to the sober sea.
Nothing can dissuade,
neither her promises,
nor her pleas.
She pushed me
deep in to the glass,
that I sip now daily.
It gave me solace,
when she left me dry,
I shall be loyal,
and never desert my friend,
this heaven in glass.


There in a fast canal flooded by thoughts I found something. A clue. A clue to a piece of myself. People are by nature a veritable jigsaw puzzle. Some move in myriad direction and are difficult to piece together. But they too are assembled by others and the folks themselves. I move in predictable ways yet far too little of me has been found. For in my life I have been torn and shredded to the tiniest bits on countless occasions. Pieces have been flung to the far corners of the sky as well as the deepest abyss.

Pinocchio of wood, yet he stood solid and strove to be a human with heart,

I too yearn the same, what is it to be human, heartless me play demon’s part.

Why am I so? I was not always thus. A disorder of the mind crashed me each time I sought to be free and fly away from my cage. Never under pressure to earn a daily wage I sunk in to the vicious and everlasting tentacles of idleness. Now I can’t compel myself to move and act even when I am asked to. Yet things after my heart like this rambling discourse I do with joy and such fervour and pace to astonish even the astute writers. My old self is chipper, ever funny, sagacious and indomitable. I knew all parts of me can’t be found and I will never be my old self. All I wanted now was to find the major pieces and put it back so that I am human again. The missing pieces I shall grow newly on my own. After all Humpty Dumpty couldn’t be put together by all the king’s men.

I seek mastery that others show while all I see is a mystery,

I can strive hard but how can I find a life anew,

as experience is the fodder for literature.

I once long before all the debacles dreamt dreams big and rich with such intricate tapestry and skill renown that still haunts me. I want at least a part of that dream fulfilled. To be famous and successful in any sphere. To prove to the world and myself that the dismal failure that I am today can morph in to the greatest of success. I decide like the clock decides time that I shall be a writer. Without life experiences I can try spinning out of the world stories or write genre fiction. I tried it but my mind is not in to it. I decide that I would write character driven literary fiction. With time and perseverance I must carry other people’s experiences and mould them in to a beautiful sculpture.

These are the feeble clues I unearthed from the fast canal of thoughts. They are insufficient I know. I shall travel to the skies and reach the deepest recesses of this world and find parts of me sufficient to weave a story that shall be added to the immortal relics of time.

These feeble hands that break all that it touches in to dust

should make an urn of Keats’ lore as to save this soul, it is a must.

The Sea Beckons – 9 – The Plunge

The sky was a spray of orange with the setting sun peeking from behind the clouds. It was darkening and the evening was quickly fading in to night.

Velan asked Stephen, “Where is the heart?”

Stephen looked blankly at Velan before answering, “Yes, I get you mate. Where is the heart in this ever heartless world. But buddy there still is lot of goodness in this world.”

“The heart is near the centre a tad bit to the left. It is not all left as people think.”

Stephen blinked and said, “What ever man. Why did you ask me to come over to your house and take your car and drive here. You could easily have come in a bike. Moreover why have you asked the two frauds to come here.”

Two guys, Nishant and Shyam had tricked Velan by saying they needed his ID proof for a purchase.  When he showed up they had made the purchase of a mobile on loan with his proof promising to return the amount shortly. They had out right cheated Velan and exploited him thinking he can afford it and let it slide by. Velan was a pushover until he is pushed too far. He had called them to join for drinks. Shyam was an ad film maker and Nishant was a good for nothing loafer with loans all over town. Shyam was the one who got the mobile but Nishant was the one who sweet talked Velan in to coming with the ID proof in the first place.

They came and were standing in the dimly lit side lane where the bar entrance was. The lane reeked of urine. Velan and Stephen were waiting in the car in the main road. Velan asked Stephen to remain in the car. He then stepped out and checked the long knife underneath his shirt. He went to the two and before either could open their mouth he took out the knife and stabbed Nishant in his thighs hard and twisted the knife and pulled it out. He then turned the knife to Shyam and asked him to give the mobile. Shyam silently in fright turned over the mobile. Stephen watched all this from the car.

One leg of Nishant’s grey pants had turned in to dark red and he was howling in pain. The sun had disappeared all of a sudden and it was totally dark yet the moon was nowhere to be seen hidden among the clouds. Velan calmly walked back to the car.

Stephen had started the car and was visibly shaking. Velan had earlier purchased this long knife from a iron and steel utensil supplier that supplied to butcher’s shops. He had got the details of the shop from Stephen without revealing what he wanted. As soon as Velan got inside Stephen rushed away. Not before a limping Nishant and Shyam threw expletives at them. Velan was shaking as he approached them initially but surprisingly enough after plunging the knife he became dead calm. It gave him such a high that for brief moments he considered plunging the knife in to Nishant’s heart.