Not jibberish definitely

What I do matters to none is what I grew up/on with, enough of social work drama,phew! The birds do not have time, my cat is fabulously lazy and I am not any lesser. Just that, you get panic attacks that time is probably running out and your moment of reckoning might just fade away. Anyway, when it comes to all these, I guess we should stop being the phoneys that we all are. Being all preachy and condescending and not doing your bit is no longer a crime, it is fashionable. Being the cynic was always a nasty job, the prospects have not got any better. Yes, but being a radical cynic helps, in my case.

I don’t know if things will change ever by/with my cribbing/sermonising.

How indifferent can you get? Suppose, there is a competition, then who wins??

Enough of mental games, strategies and ammunition. But nothing happens, the fire in the belly embers out.

In the land of the consumed, it’s an uphill task to comment, criticize and idealize. All adages fade strongly and inspire feebly. Resources are scarce and lil’ to spare. Time has always been an expensive customer.

Small matters matter big. Will that mole grow bigger? That’s what the girl is thinking in the midst of her revision. The boy is counting millions in his piggy bank. The father has retired at 35, the mother resigned at 25.

If looks could kill, plastic surgery should be cheap and subsidized by now.

If gossip is hot, Page3 should be scrapped.

If you are cocky, you won’t require graffiti and cartoons.

Just doing your thing in the bounds of civic sense seems the ideal situation but it is very difficult for people to tread the middle path. Most love to live life in select doses, nobody lives it king-size or queen-size however much he or she proclaims – “I am different”. Definitely, everyone is different, biologically and genetically proven.

Letting go

Far, far away, there...across
you sit and smile
as though you are the Buddha incarnate
your eyes speak more than your chosen silence.
volumes that no paper can hold
miles that no pen can fathom
such is the dilemma
of the awed other
should one savor the moment
or preserve it for posterity?

pleaded, fought and lost,
now, content.

Death of an eternal Romantic- part 3

ah, what a crescendo of disappointment!
i never knew you never had it in you.
why did you let me hope so much?
and yet, dismiss the thought with heartless finesse?

but this, i knew not you always had
to rudely surprise and go your way
and leave the other pondering again,
what was my fault in the mutual game?

Death of an Eternal Romantic- part 2

across the smoky patch up there
a terrible mix-up has taken place,
of half baked dreams and repressed fears.
the path untrodden always looked so wild
and those taken never so kind.
with so much to lose and nearly all at stake
with no mask to aid a false bravado.
life is too short for dangerous liaisons
and the moment too hasty for betrayals.
that leaves no room for even, explanations.
ah, this, too will pass on...

Death of an eternal Romantic- Part 1

I’ve forgotten quite,

What it is to linger awhile.

After trying times and untold miseries,

I’ve forgotten, really

What it is to simply be.

My body has lost the beat of terror,

My muscles refuse to acknowledge pain,

My eyes betray what feeling is.

My senses defy spontaneity,

My heart is incapable of throbbing,

My feet can’t find and feel the frost of time.

My hands can’t reach out to touch,

My fingers can’t play what they loved to,

My memory fails me…


As blinds are drawn
another sad day embers out
amidst anticipation,
waiting for something to happen.
The morsels are fed to keep hunger at bay
not to satisfy some external desire
but to engage the aching agony.
Books are open
and letters are disappearing,
how much can be absorbed
and how much retained?
The picture flashes...
to dissolve the paranoia,
and clear the fuddle.
The mind relaxes
but to welcome another pain.