Whatsoever resemblance to any living or whosoever dead is purely INTENSENULL


Thursday, May 5, 2011

The Buried Epistle


Someday in 2035

Dear Shera,
I breathe my last at the centre of Gir
Embossing on my arms the maiden letter
You will never get to read
As I go up in flames.
Your kingship stood for long the test of time
Set for all a paradigm but alas!
Outdone by the vicious human race
And they will, for centuries
Remain cursed for all the transgressions.
On this penultimate day to the apocalypse
I, the last of all floras
Stand witness to the wipeout of the species
That has, since time immemorial, nurtured this planet
Dispensing the vitals for everyone's existence.
For a fresh start, the greater good
[sobs] May the world soon come to peace. Amen! 

Sunday, March 27, 2011

The girl from Dwarka


When she walked into the metro cab
The enticing fragrance spurt
Her plump hips were apparent  
And the voluptuous extent striking.  

I was standing by the door opposite
Cornered and busy in my thoughts
Deciding my preparedness
For the weekend test.

Her mom approached me
And asked to spare the corner
She was aged and looked tired
So I facilitated her comfort.

I threw a glance on the daughter
Profound eyes and fair skin
But she ogled as if alerting
‘Dare you not smile and accost back.’

I could read the unease
Her sneaking around, then letting go
Her hissing into her mom’s ear
And then twirling her cheek.

But I got to know
The tenderness that lay within
The infantile heart that lingered
Yearning a mature look.

I turned away for a while
Trying to find some distraction
Letting me go of her thought
But all invain and I flipsided again.

I wished to talk to her
Know her, care for her
But an announcement followed
And I had to deboard.

Still I can feel her aroma
Gaunt but fresh
Still I can feel her inveigle
Goading me to her exploration.