"The Lovable Eyes"

She is Spontaneous, Smooth, Suave and Loving. She is what most guys want to find, date, and marry. That simple. She’s adorable, cute, sexy, innocent, easy-going, friendly, and fun to be around. Pretty much the perfect companion. Exquisitely creative and smashingly assiduous. She’s delicate and needs to be handled with loving hands, and there won’t be any shortage of guys willing to handle her. In a relationship, there is only one rule with the Lovable Eyes- Don’t Fu** Up. That’s it. Don’t cheat on her, don’t lie to her, don’t mistreat or abuse her, and she will be yours for a lifetime.

"Vent"

Sometimes I wonder if I’m turning mad slowly. I’ve pulled my hair till it hurt. I’ve screamed silently till my throat felt as dry as parchment. I’ve made angry splotches on immaculately white paper with blue blood. And nothing ever happens. Not even the tiniest bit of relief.

All because I’m young and I’m no longer allowed to use certain defense mechanisms.

Take angst-y youthful poetry, for instance. You’ve just begun to take your English classes in school seriously because you think Keats is cool, not to mention damned right about all the stuff he talks about. You have the whole world’s burden on your shoulders. And of course, you like someone. Your heart flutters and all when she passes by. Her mere shadow is enough to fill you with the warmth of a sun's ray.
So what do you do? You write a poem.

You didn’t see "The One" all morning. Oh how your heart pines! How it yearns! How it misses the one who is missed!
So what do you do? You write a poem.

"The One" didn’t smile at you today. Oh how your heart is shattered into a million fragments that can only be put together by some divine miracle. Oh how the world is cruel and malicious.
So what do you do? You Write a poem, of course.

"The One" smiled today. And you’re almost sure it was in your direction. Even though you were sitting with six others. Oh how it feels like spring with its pink blossoms and sunny suns even though it’s freezing cold and you have three sweaters on.
AND you write a poem.

You think free verse is the coolest thing that ever existed in poetry. But you can’t help rhyming now and then. Excusable.
Your flair is surprising.
You think you’re going to be the next…Whoever (as opposed to Whatever).
All because you wrote a few lines about how you could kiss the moment when you met her, and how fate plays the strangest games and how the dream you had last night was an eye-opener.

Then there are all those Dear Diary entries. We are only too familiar with them.

What is being mature and young? Bidding Dear Diary Farewell? Pushing all the teen angst poems you’ve written to the farthest corner of your existence and cringing whenever you come across an example? Not calling your best friend and whining royally?

Yes.

Being mature and young is being afraid.
Afraid of being embarrassed.

"Upto NO gOOd !!"

The author of this blog was born helpless, naked and without the means to provide for himself. He has struggled ever since his umblical cord was sliced. Born as a blue baby, he struggled to tie his laces while in elementary school, he struggled to eat from his own plate coz he was always fed by his mommy dear, until his darling sis decided to invade his happiness and freedom, he struggled to cheat in his exams while in middle school, he struggled to spill the pearls of love to his secret crush in high school, he struggled to ride the bike in college and now he is struggling even to get off his bed, coz of his own bloody wieght. He has since fought these handicaps to emerge as a nonstop chatterbox spouting unnecessary drivel on unsuspecting, polite strangers who merely indulge him in order to get away safe and sound no doubt wondering even as they go how much he can talk, just the way you must be thinking right now if this sentence ever stops. There you go. In his spare time, he enjoys spraying water on cats and watching them jump for their lives, hugging trees without going beyond, indulging in second hand involuntary smokes, dancing to a bachata number in the bathroom, creating a vacuum while floating in his tub. Off late, our man is busy devising a Object Oriented way to become wealthy - INHERITANCE...

"A Childhood To Quench Thirst"

My recent trip to the capital city - Delhi was indeed memorable and I did have my share of candid experiences. The ‘Summer of 69’ is the only summer which presumably everyone enjoyed, otherwise, all the other summers that we experience seem to haunt us with heat strokes and sun burns. And, for lazy bones like us, it brings added chores to the routine; One has to bathe everyday, apply sunscreen before we step out and wear sunshades to attract eyeballs.

Unlike people like us, (Mallus - where summer is wet and sultry), summers in Delhi are the most dreaded season, but for others in the capital city, they are the source to earn food and way to live life.

Those water-vending machines with a shabby looking operator, flood the city as early as in March. They brave the sun and stand all day long to do the ‘godly’ job of quenching thirst for just 50 paise per glass. In the busy and congested South Extension, there stood a kid all of eight years with his water vending machine. As I approached him, I noticed that he was observing me just like I was observing him. Too smart for his age, and full of wit, the child was an easy game for convincing him to talk to ME.

ME: Hi
Kid: Hi!

ME: I'm from a newspaper. Will you tell me about yourself?
Kid: Oh sure! You want my interview?

ME: Yes, I will publish your name and photograph as well.
Kid: There he is, my Uncle, please publish his photo too…
(His Paternal uncle has his machine just in front of his)

ME: All right, I will. What does he do?
Kid: He is also a water vendor.

ME: Good. What is your name?
Kid: Lal Babu

ME: Lal Babu! Who gave you this name?
Kid: Amma. She lives in our village.

ME: What does your father do?
Lal Babu: He is also a water vendor. My Dad and I do the same work in summers.

ME: In summers? What you do in winters?
Lal Babu: Selling water is not a profitable business in winters. My Dad sells hand gloves and woolen caps here in the same market.

ME: And what you do?
Lal Babu: I help him around.

ME: So you don’t go to school?
Lal Babu: I do go, but today is my holiday.

ME: Who operates your machine then, when you go to school?
Lal Babu (confused and nervous so does not answers)

ME: Tell me truthfully, do u go to school?
Lal Babu: Yeah I do, but today I did not. I had a holiday.

ME: Where does your Dad stand?
Lal Babu: He stands in the same place.
(He explained to me the way to his dad’s machine and I went there in a while after I finished the session with the child. His Dad told us that he did go to school but he is a very naughty kid. Instead of going to school, he used to change his way and landed at the roadside to pass time with other street side children. This was very hard for me to believe because the kid was apparently more then interested in being educated and in fact he apparently, lied to me due to guilt conscience).

ME: Do you watch movies?
Lal Babu: Sometimes, if my brother who sells the black ticket, has a lot of them left to be sold.

ME: Who is your favourite Actor?
Lal Babu: I like Shah Rukh Khan. I loved him in Om Shanti Om. His body was great. Some day, even I would have a body like him. Deepika didi was also cute. But she is too tall for me.

ME: Would you want to act in movies when you grow up?
Lal Babu: I would love to, but.... (He thinks for a while..) I would want to become a police officer and be the only person who does not take bribes.

ME: Why... have any police people bribed you or manhandled you?
Lal Sabu: Saab, don't talk about those mother f***ers. They take some money from me, almost every day. They sometimes slap me or just push me and drink water from my machine without paying up.
(His blood shot eyes, had said it all)

ME: So how much do you earn in a day?
Lal Babu: About Rs. 300-400

ME: That’s quite a good amount.
(I wondered if even I could take up the same job!!)
Lal Babu (chuckles): No, Saab. You are educated. Your work is better. All of these earnings do not go into my pocket. I have to earn and give at least Rs.400 to Malhotra Seth.

ME: Who is this Malhotra Seth?
Lal Babu: He owns this machine and gives us water soda and stuff.

ME: Oh, so it is not yours?
Lal Babu: No it is all Malhotra’s. We have to give him a fixed amount everyday and above that, the remaining amount belongs to us. (Every water vending machine you see in the city belongs to a rich businessman who invests in these machines and gives them on rent. A water vendor can never purchase and run it alone because they need to have a license for doing this work, which comes for at least Rs.60,000-70,000. This is sans the patronage that these powerful people provide them as legally they are not allowed to operate.)

ME: So how much you get in your hand?
Lal Babu: I get only Rs. 40-50

ME: The money belongs to you?
Lal Babu: Yeah, a part of it. I first give it all to my Dad and then he gives me some.

ME: What do you do with the money?
Lal Babu: I eat samosas, dhabe ki roti and kulfi.

ME: You like them?
Lal Babu: A lot.
(Meanwhile, there comes a bully-like person. He warns Lal Babu to get his vehicle aside. Lal Babu puts a good defence. “Do what ever you want, Bas****. I won't move my vehicle”. These words out of an eight-year-old’s mouth, baffled me. I sensed that the kid needed to get back to work and so I bid him goodbye but on a sweeter note. I gave him a huge bar of Cadbury's chocolate and the smile on his face was so overwhelming that it made my day, and I too, was smiling for the rest of the day. While we were leaving, he reminded me, “Saab, do put in my uncle's photo and when you print this, do show it to”.

"My Debris"

I tread the paths we dreamt together slowly,
like each step gives me the need to live
for just one step, so I can die on the next
on my way towards the ghost of Past.
I trudged ahead since last snowfall
when houses gave way, and the cold wave
affected words and song.
But the beauty, oh the beauty of it
was that the path was so long.
I could walk till my feet went numb
with yellow rotting trees abandoned
in that desolate, white glory.
Why was it that every time I politely
and hesitatingly refused company
it seemed to put me back a step
or take them one step further?
With the misty breath of my mouth
heading the way, I could see a haze clear away
and feet followed where mind had slept,
still imprisoned in your land in your dream.
I can see our footprints, frozen like a trail
vanishing as soon as eyes focus too long.
Perhaps I moved ahead so much, I came back home.
Perhaps because this time when the snow came falling
I watched it all alone.

"Unanswered Questions??"

Where does it all end? The pain, the sorrow, the bleak notion of tomorrow...where does it all end?

What causes it all to explode finally, in a rainbow of flesh and gristle, raining down on blind men who can only smell the fear but not see it reflected in those blank eyes?

What gives this rabid fear birth in an expulsion of life-breath? What causes it all?

Where does it gain momentum? In the heart, in the scurrying mind or in the jumpy nerve endings behind the knees and eyes that cause the body to spin and fall in nervous anxiety?

Where does it come alive?

"Symphony of Thoughts"

Every single day used to be a new day for me. The things that happen everyday used to be the same though. But now, everything has changed. Many new incidents, some for the good, some for the bad...some for both. But one thing has definitely changed - No one is the same anymore....

Dark shades of emotions cross me by everyday
The dementor hovers over
Sucking the happiness out of me
Whether there is anything to be happy about
Is food for thought
Kaleidoscope of thoughts
They twist and turn
Make shadows in the void filling my head
Sudden balls of fire
Breathing and angry
Seldom avoidable
Spread over my thoughts
Like butter on bread
Sheilding me from seeing sense
The fury angst, temper
Filling me for reasons unknown
Camouflage my true
Intentions, Intuitions, Goals
IN LIFE...

"???"

I hate to see what I have become,
The things I had to do, to fantasize my happiness.
Deep inside, I know I am being the person I am not.
I burnt my finger in doing this,
And, that did not mean anything.
Cant see myself fall. Have seen that too many times before.
I am washing this paint off my face,
And I aint painting any more.

"My Angel"

I walk alone
This empty street
Nothing all around me
Makes me lose belief
I don't know how
To face the truth
You are no longer with me
In this bitter cold
Somehow..
I can still feel you
I can still hold you
I can still talk to you
I know you are up there
Still here somewhere
All through wherever I go
I feel u around
Never gone
Never far
In my heart is where you are
Always close
Everyday
Every step along the way
Even though for now
I have said goodbye
I know you will be forever in my mind
I LOVE YOU, My Apple Pie
You will be with me always

PS : A tribute to a dear friend, Ananditha aka Ana, whom I had to bid bye forever... I lost her a year ago to cancer... I have known her since our huggie days.... Love her for her grit, Admire her for her courage, Respect her for her convictions and Adore her for her compassion.

"Painful Delight"

Out of the shadow came
A fluttering butterfly
Like a Little child's dreams
Innocent and pure
A frozen state of mind
Just for tonight
Just for one night

You send that tingle up me
It starts from my heart ends on my lips
And even if it’s just for a moment
You make my heart smile

Its all coming crashing down
We lived with each other in that fleeting moment
Our love is tailor made
Let go of all inhibitions they say
Let’s just give into these mixed emotions
Together entwined inside a bubble
You make me smile holding me tight
I can hear your fast beating heart

Now hold my hand
It’s a start

"Entwined!!"

Coiled in comfortable care
I feel things you never bother to say
When you whisper in my ears
I hear strange music that simply enchants

I might be a poet
But, I only write while you live my words
In the quietness we share at times
A colossal lifetime speeds by

Amidst doubts, confusions and head aches
You come flying to dispel every morsel of pain
Raining on a very parched me
Cleansing me of every woe

We sit entangle like strands of hair
Making a lovely braid
Never stop whispering to me
Lets follow the colours & see it leave us behind

"Chasing"

I'm going back to the start
I have to find you
Hear all your secrets
Hear you say you love me
Answer all your doubts
Let you know how lovely you are
Put the puzzles together
Forget the science of reason
Chase lose ends
Run into a smile
Haunt you
Feel safe in your arms
So much awaits
I sit alone only for now..

"Seeing Double"

Why are we all hypocrites?
Why do we have two sides?
Why does everything have two sides?
Why confuse the world with black and white, shades of grey even?
Why be different with different people?
How do we all possess the immense potential to pretend, and yet only identify it in everyone else?
How can I ask myself 'Who I'm' when I'm not sure myself?
Who am 'I'?

"Incomplete"

Sweet notes, dialogues and sharp lights
A plethora of colour and emotions
I witnessed one day
Tormented by passion and an urge to complete
A journey began when suddenly
I was swept off my feet by the blue green eyed angel
In her arms I struggled to understand
How to make things work and get a magical spear
The lilies she left me each day
Smiled wilting away every night
Until the final day came and it all made sense
My heart she had and she had won
A meaning to momentary existence
Efforts and pains.
Now all that is left is a box of fond memories
Like assorted chocolates gift wrapped for my niece
Magic and belief combined
Lovely bonds were formed in the process
No regret
Only a feeling….
Much too complex to be penned down.

"Mirroring a Mirage"

I am a mirage and I mirror my reflection..
The world I see is outside me and the one I feel inside..
My mind and heart entangle and perform a charm..
They sit aloof and mock at me sometimes..
Shining glass I am polised and determined never to scar..
I only reflect I am a mirror I cannot see through..
Sometimes only a shadow appears..
Now my journey into the oblivion awaits me..
My search of a clarity continues......

"Transitory Existence"

So another year has gone by.
Some extraordinary moments it comprised.
Chills down the spine and heart wrenching ones to make me cry.
I had no resolutions so no disappointments there.
I haven’t had any epiphany,
So no great philosophies to share here.
Just the occasional bruises and scratches.
Nothing serious.
I will survive.

2008
The definitive year
I want to live it. But then who doesn’t.
What I want to do?
LOTS.
What I can do?
I would like to find out.

There are secrets and mysteries still left for me to discover and that gives me joy. I can love freely and feel anything I want to and no one can stop me and that makes me happy. I can sing in my bathroom and pretend to be the best singer alive and that makes me chuckle. I might be small but I feel big in my right and that makes me proud. If the world gets to me I can make a run for it. The heavy heart sinks with the sun.

Twisted words and blank pages
Random rooms and pretensions
Head pushed under water
Patterns of gold on the blue you see
Aqua fresh life dancing beneath
Breathe easy
Under water it gets harder even if its heavenly

"Incognito"

This evening a couple of my friends took me to the newest sheesha hangout in Cochin - Sand Dunes. While we just reached the place, the Rain God decided to shower us with his blessings in abundance. The ambience of the place did make a deep impression and I was astonished by the concept of hookah joint in my very own city.

As we parked ourselves into the plush decor, surrounded by tons of cushions, my soul lightened and I experienced an awe inspiring feeling of nirvana.
As we drew our first drags of the magnificent hookah, the smoke formulated by the human exhaust along with the wonderful patterns of the dark and thick clouds, it was a rich and fine treat to my eyes.....the splendid amalgamation of the wayward smoke and the serene clouds. It was blissful, for it relived the sacrament of the holy matrimony.

The day was special for various reasons and I was plummeted into this the elite and exclusive world of MINE…. A period of introspection, an epoch of my life, a quick zap into my life so far….

Erased from memory
Searching eyes
Group pictures
Combined journals
A pang in my stomach
Sickening rage
The music she sang
No longer resonates
White liles on marble stone
Exquisit patterns in gold
An incomplete lifeline inscribed
An entire existence reduced to dates and numbers
Cold winds make mystic shapes
Fast disappearing flames
Restrained tears
For all the love she could give
She died a painful death
Just to stay alive
Phantom's dreams she sees
A shadow on her shoulder
Lips curve and dimples appear
She turns around in joy
Feeling a warmth
She lives purely in that brief moment
Eyes flutter at the downpur of rain
And as she turns......
"The shadows were a just Passing CLOUD"

''Happy Women's Day"..... Maybe NOT

I woke up this morning and the first thing I hear is a cheery voice wishing my sister "Happy Women’s Day". It was Amma, she looked radiant and happy. Ready to start her day, it was no special day for her she would continue to live her dream of raising two obnoxious kids. Pray that they turn out to be little angels (Wishful thinking?) She is among the countless mothers who continue to affect so many lives in very significant ways. These are women who are part of our daily lives, from our morning tooth brushes to our stress attacks. They make sure it’s all taken care off. What I am trying to get at is how easily we all tend to forget the how much they do for us without expecting anything in return. Women young and old all have one thing in common, an undying spirit.

This spirit has been tried to be caged, raped and killed because this spirit is considered weak. Women might not be as physically strong as Mike Tyson but guess what the first person he probably runs to when he loses a fight, is his mother/wife/daughter... a Woman !!! True that women have achieved great things in life and should be cherished etc.. But the truth remains that women are still a 'different' sex. A sex that is plagued with a history of bloodshed and agony. A sex that is stopped and stared down at everytime they try to do something.

You think you are better. Fine. I will not argue. You think why should I read this I am not the kind of man/woman he is talking about. Fine. I will not argue. But if you say "NO" this is bullshit and things have changed.... then mind u, YOU have a WAR OF WORDS to wage with me.

What does a Women get for being herself?
A day dedicated for her...
What is the point of it, I say?
Reason in the world... Zero!
Swiss woman raped in Spiritual City Pushkar India
Finnish woman raped in Navi Mumbai 2007
Woman raped near Haryana Governor's house Feb 21st 2008.
.....
LIST GOES ON.....
INDIA is not an isolated case....

Sun. 24 Feb 2008 Reuters - In Iran a women was wearing a brightly colored headscarf and high-heeled boots, she was beaten and taken to prison for violating her religion.Africa : Rape and beatings of women seen as “normal”. Rights activists say violence against women in Niger is rampant and remains taboo

NIAMEY, 6 December 2007 (IRIN) - The news that 70 percent of women in parts of Niger find it normal that their husbands, fathers and brothers regularly beat, rape and humiliate them came as no surprise to human rights experts in Niger.

And million other cases including crimes being committed this very second....

Every nation, every country, every state, city or place has witnessed torture against women and it continous to happen...

Did someone just say...Happy Womens day?
I dont think so !!!

"Pearls of Wisdom"

My mother used to ask me what is the most important part of the body. Through the years I would take a guess at what I thought was the correct answer.

When I was younger, I thought sound was very important to us as a human, so I said, 'My ears, amma.' She said, 'No. Many people are deaf. But you keep thinking about it and I will ask you again soon.'

Several years passed before she asked me again. Since making my first attempt, I had contemplated the correct answer. So this time I told her, 'Amma, sight is very important to everybody, so it must be our eyes'. She looked at me and told me, 'You are learning fast, but the answer is not correct because there are many people who are blind.

Stumped again, I continued my quest for knowledge and over the years, my Mother asked me a couple more times and always her answer was, 'No. But you are getting smarter every year, my child.'

In 1997, my grandpa died. Everybody was hurt. Everybody was crying. Even my father cried. I remember that especially because it was only the second time I saw him cry. My Mom looked at me when it was our turn to say our final good-bye to Grandpa. She asked me, 'Do you know the most important body part yet, my dear?' I was shocked when she asked me this now. I always thought this was a game between her and me. She saw the confusion on my face and told me, 'This question is very important. It shows that you have really lived in your life. For every body part you gave me in the past, I have told you was wrong and I have given you the reason why. But today is the day you need to learn this important lesson. She looked down at me as only a mother can. I saw her eyes swell up with tears. She said, 'My dear, the most important body part is your shoulder.' I asked, 'Is it because it holds up your head?' She replied, 'No, it is because it can hold the head of a friend or a loved one when they cry. Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on sometime in life, my dear. I only hope that you have enough love and friends that you will always have a shoulder to cry on when you need it.'

Two years later, when my Father was called to grace the heavens, it was the shoulder of my Mother which me and my sister got to cry on. And till date, my Mother has been the pillar of support & the beacon of light, guiding us through every moment of our wonderful life.

I learned my lesson, that the most important body part is not a selfish one. It is sympathetic to the pain of others.

People will forget what you said.......
People will forget what you did........
But people will NEVER forget how you made them feel...

PS: My mom got this from Natanya Ruth, a pen pal of hers who is based in UK when she was a young. I got to meet Natanya and her lovely family, when she had come down to India a couple of years back. My Mother did tell her about this particular story. Natanya hugged her, with tears of joy rolling down her cheeks. MY MOTHER gradually expounded the doctrine of love, compasssion and humaneness.

"Sambhar of '69"

Spoof on Bryan Adam's..... Me and my whacky bunch of friends have performed this number at various colleges in God's Own Country and an honest dedication to Kunjappan Chettan, our hostel cook..... We have tormented him for 4 memorable years....


Had my first real six rupees,
Stole it from my mother's purse.
Went to a Madrasi hotel,
To eat the Sambhar of '69.

Me and some kadke dost,
Had it all and we got a bad tummy,
Josemon puked, Jabbar got ulcers,
and Bagga ne maari dakar.

Oh when I went back there now,
the food was as stale as ever,
and though it was 1999,
still the sambhar was being served over there,

That was the worst Day of my life.
(CHORUS)

Therez no use in complaining,
when you got no other place to eat,
rushed in the evening to the doctors clinic,
but he too was at the toilet seat, yeah

Standing there waiting outside,
The nurse told me to will wait forever,
Oh!! and when I held my breath,
I knew that I had to use that loo there

That was the worst Day of my life.
(CHORUS)
Back to the sambhar of 69.

Man I was getting killed,
I was full and restless,
I needed to unwind,
I guess nothing can wait forever - FOREVER... NO!

And now the times are changin'
Look at everything that's come and gone
Somethimes when I see pizzaz and burgers
I think about ya wonder what went wrong

Standing there waiting outside,
The nurse told me to will wait forever,
Oh!! and when I held my breath,
I knew that I had to use that loo there

That was the worst Day of my life.

"Mixed Bag"

The condescending voices opened taps of guilt deep inside,
but somewhere even deeper,
rivers of happiness sprang
from the acknowledgement of my true self.

But the happiness,
made me feel guiltier
because no one told me
that it was all right to be happy.

Thoughts running berserk,
pain that drill deep within,
the sense of loss and despair,
weakens, shivers and buries me alive.

Pain within undefined,
tears that fear its path of flow,
weak and fearful to rest my emotions,
I laugh, scream and smile - to hide my cry.

I still have some catching up to do.
I badly need to get
some humour and spontaneity
into my life.

After destiny pushed me from my path,
I realised I was not allowed to die,
I wish I could rest in peace in his kingdom,
His gift was - My LIFE !!

PS: Yo Dude, thanks for saving me, I owe you a Big ONE !!

"High & Dry"

Funny thing happened this sunday when I was in Bangalore. I was sitting with a couple of friends and we were celebrating at Barista. While enjoying our coffee delights, I went into my little "Akshay's Smoke time". I excused myself and duly came out. I lit my fag, and my thoughts flew into oblivion. I started to scribble on a little flyer I picked up from the coffee shop.... I can see the Bangalore traffic speeding by... People around me, all in the highest of spirits and the city fully alive.. Its a little cold outside... I smile... I wish for a warm and cosy hug and I scribble away... I found the flyer in my laptop bag this evening and this is what it said...

Leaving plates of surprises
filled with memories
I choose to ignore the buzzing machine
Instead I yearn to enjoy
the best meal ever cooked
Everyone hates it when I get like this
Serene... silent
But they dont see what's inside
Clarity screaming out loud
Little notes instead of a conversation
I offer
All I can see is the world chattering without a script
Ground beneath me is just turning fluid
Bike rides and breezing air
I just sit there
Wishing they could smell
the cinnamon and cream
Fire alarms deafen me
A blazing life and an empty glass they seize
Calling out to me trying to suck me in
Numb
I decide to just sit dry..

"A Wistful Want"

A shining star in search of a desolate night to adorn...
Soft lyrics longing for life in a sensuous tune...
Hues finding their way into a rainbow...
A whiff of delightful cherry awry to fire the perfume..
Little berries pining for winter's dew..
A languished heart yearning for love's return..
Words trickle down onto paper making a blob of the wait within..
Staring out of the window, eyes crane in search..
Failed attempts leave only scrawls and torn notes..
Revisiting abandoned hopes.. Eyes try hard to sparkle..
Longing for lady muse.. her only abigail..
All that is left to do is wait....

Inhale !!

Maybe the mistakes she makes she is bound to make them all over again. She looks around and searches frantically finding that vacuum that she was once scared of. She runs and she fears it will eat her one day. She threatens to give up and take the plunge off the cliff into that deep blue endless pool of crystal water that looked so beautiful but had nothing to offer. Then like pearls strung together to make a necklace for a voice, she hears a call. The voice would make her strong and inspire her to believe some day; it asks her to sit down and assures her she is not moving the train is. Just watch from the glass and you will feel the voice says. Feel the beauty in a little child’s giggle, in raindrops and yellow skies and the warmth of a loving hand. They walk through the door watching time pass by from a moving train. Eyes watch them suspecting a breakdown or a fall at each step but they just breathe and walk on. The train of life speeds away through the hills and seas. The sound louder than ever now. The voice whispered you cannot jump off the train the feeling glued her onto the seat.The rains might bring in something special. Music and melody might combine after all to form that one perfect song.

Take time off to feel life enter you.. just inhale.. breathe!

"SMILE - The Second Best Things you can do with your Lips"

Voices soft run sharp die out
Sounds resonate in a wait
Thoughts float like a tune
Words spoken linger
Unspoken vibrate and remain
Weary winds are calm today
The world must fade and give way
No choice just an order
The music remains forever
in this world and the next
Two voices and a smile
Glazed warm tears retreat
Fleet of clouds drinking in the moonlight
Leaving only darkness for me to posses
The dew has to vanish
Leaves now travel through dust and heap up
Dead odours bringing back memories
Flaming visions
Delightful dreams
Creations so vivid that it makes reality blur
All that now remains is a smile.

"Of Raindrops and Bright Sunshines"

As time passes I realize and learn that no matter how hard you try and how much you prepare, it will rain the day you don’t have an umbrella. Things that you never even dreamed can happen actually will. You may have to find out that the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it gets worse every time that happens You may break hearts too, and that wont be great either. You can actually have a big fight with your best friend. You will misunderstand your family and friends who really care and regret it later. You might blame a new love for things that happened in the past. You will end up crying because time is passing too fast, your search is still on and nothing seems to be working out. You will find your self being misunderstood even when you try tirelessly to explain yourself clearly. You'll eventually lose someone you love. But, without the above you won’t be half the person you are bound to be someday. So cherish every second, there is nothing like laughing too much, live like your life depends on each breath you take and love like you've never been hurt because every a minute you spend upset, hurt, confused and angry is a minute of happiness you may never ever get back. No point running from something that will eventually happen. Learning to soak in the rain and enjoying the world just as it and not as you would want it to be is perhaps what they call heaven on earth. Worrying about life ending before you get where you want to is meaningless, its worse if the life you were meant to live never began at all...

"Melody"

Endless nights without feel
A lonely flower in a summery desert
A drying river in harsh winter
An empty shadow my only friend around
I wait for rain clouds as the clock ticks by
No sound no tune no whisper
I hear Alone in the abyss of lifes choices
The undestroyed silence is all that awaits.
Too many roads when I ask for one
The sun shines with open vengeance upon the naked earth
Fate offers a different mask to relenquish my thirst
All along I hear a distinct nothing
A silent whisper within me crawls
Demanding a tune a melody or a complete song
My search evades my fantasy and yet i find none
Just a faint notion of something tranquil
Turn back time play that song just once more
Echoes of sounds mellow but clear
A haven of bliss
Tunes like timid waves powered by storms
Pick up rythmn and my heart flutter in delight
Time freezes the winds seize to blow
I enjoy the moment and breathe it all in.

"Pox Goddess"

One sweaty morwning she woke up to find tiny red drops of mars all over her. She was no longer just a mere earthling she was the chosen one she had been bestowed by the Pox Goddess.

Some may call it a curse but indeed as it turns out it was a blessing. Her life would never be the same after this. She was to spend the next two weeks wondering about the great riddles of life and each time she came to an answer the question would miraculously change. Things like why the ceiling was above her and not below, why the bed seemed to never push her down even though she was pretty sure it was annoyed having to carry her weight all day. Anyway as luck would have it she gained her powers each day and each dawn made her more confident that she was indeed the chosen one.

After she had passed all her tests she realized that her true purpose in life was to use her powers to control the universe. She was to embark on her mission to uphold the one true and all important goal of poxhood which was of course : “ Spread the message of obscurity ”, she was a torch that would light the path of several souls that lead sane lives and were very unhappy because they had answers to most of their problems which indeed is the root cause of all evil in life like Buddha would say.

Anyway in a moment of great enlightenment the Goddess herself decided to visit her humble abode she came in all her power and glory all the way from mars and revealed that this girl was infact not only the chosen one but was a reincarnation of the one that can be named ,oh come on or else how would she know, she was a reincarnation of the (sound of trumpets in the background) POX GIRL and she was to go back to the sad sane world where people needed to be led to the glorious confusion.

So she has returned left with a few scars of her glorious beginnings from mars. Beware and behold the Pox girl!! You may run you may hide but she will hunt and she will find you. And when she does you will have to bow down to greatness!

"Fury"

When all the fake smiles
tend to fade
and melt away
the glow of numbness
manages to switch off
In the darkness
I discover myself
with a flickering crimson mate
I embrace and enter
A blazing flame
finishing a cube
I find my rest
in the pool of ashes
the fire and I become one

3 Point Formula - For Chaging the Face of India !!

Changes I would implement, if I were to ever rule INDIA !!

For a country like India to be classified as a developed country, we need to incorporate a lot changes in the present machinery of the Indian Government. We need to develop and make early inroads, in the Agricultural, Manufacturing and Service sectors. With India being a formidable force in the Asian continent and with the awe inspiring progress we are contributing to the revenue of a nation of billion people, we need to strengthen our foothold in corporate, political and e-governance.

With the Sports particularly cricket, the Bollywood industry, and the famous corporate houses like the Tatas and Ambanis to name a few, ensuring the perennial inflow of revenue, corporate governance and independence is a must, for the recognition and prominence of India is a super power. The advancement in the field of space, defence research and nuclear technology are vital signs of sustenance and survival in this ever evolving world.

The Political machinery, needs to take cognizance of the global market escalation and we need to formulate a system which is not dependent on the agenda’s of the various political parties, but get inspired by the needs and requirement of the billion dreams that they represent. The Peace pipe that we smoke and the initiative that we embark on towards World Peace needs to see India not only emerging as a Global Super Power, but also a catalyst for progress and development.

e-Governance is the next big thing. With the rural regions of India reaching greater heights and the contribution of the desi IT giants leaving their mark of excellence not only into the Indian treasury, but also providing world class services to MNCs, we as a nation are here to stay and we need realise the dream of seeing India as a developed nation in the year 2020.

"Journey of my MIND"

There is a place I journey to, when needing to unwind.
I travel there on glistening tides, if only in my mind.
It is a place of solitude, in gardens lush and green.
An ancient creature from times of old, silently guards the scene.
There I can collect my thoughts, as if surrounded by a wall.
With no one there to see my tears, if like rapids they should fall.
I set my eyes upon the blooms, all flaming gold and red,
And quietly wait as the sun goes down, bringing peace on golden threads.
Then up I climb from beneath the depths, with troubles not so wide.
Knowing I've a place to hide, beyond the glistening tides.

"The CIGARETTE does the Smoking, You are just the SUCKER"

I think one of the main reasons it's so hard to quit smoking is because all the benefits of quitting and all the dangers of continuing seems very far away. Well, here's a little timeline about some of the more immediate effects of quitting smoking and how that will affect your body RIGHT NOW..

In 20 Minutes your blood pressure will drop to normal.

In 8 Hours the carbon monoxide (a toxic gas) levels in your blood stream will drop by half and the oxygen levels will return to normal.

In 48 Hours your chance of having a heart attck will have decreased. All nicotine will have left your body. Your sense of taste and smell will return to normal level.

In 72 Hours your bronchial tubes will relax and your energy levels will increase.

In 2 Weeks your circulation will increase, and it will continue to improve for the next 10 weeks.

In 3-9 Months coughs, wheezing and breathing problems will dissipate as your lung capacity improves by 10%.

In 1 Year your risk of having a heart attack will have dropped by half.

In 5 Years your risk of having a stroke returns to that of a non-smoker.

In 10 Years your risk of lung cancer will have returned to that of a non-smoker.

In 15 Years your risk of heart attack will have returned to that of a non-smoker.

So, you have more immediate things to look forward to if you quit now besides just freaking out about not being able to smoke.

So HAPPY SMOKING !!

"Men are from Mars, Women are from ...."

Once she is mad she can be very fierce. She can work better than some men and she is a very confident woman. In her opinion, woman is not just a flower or decoration at home or at an office and certainly not a weak sex who needs protection. She likes to control and hide her weak emotions. She will never try to change anyone, but she will learn to accept them as they are. If she does not like someone, she will not comment or criticize but she will completely ignore that person. She hates plastic and an artificial flower because it make her feel that you are not being sincere. She loves real flower and it's scent.

She loves music (she sings well... though never witnessed the extravaganza) and nature even there is a rare case otherwise. She loves to make up and dress perfectly and very neat, so never rush her for this matter. She has her own goal in life and does not care if you have a doctorate degree or not, if she thinks you are not bright then she will not care about you at all. She likes smart people by character not by certificate shown. If you can not show her this quality, go and take a bus and go to the next stop. Don't bother to tell her "everyone is doing it, you should do it too", or "I think you should do it, it's good for you", because she will do what she wants to do only.

If you go out on a date with her, try to be presentable such as nice and clean dress, clean nails or else it will be your last date. She is a cool, lively, hyper type and will not nag, so easy on your ears. She is a slow but sure type. She will always respect and honor you and will never try to make you loose your face. If she loves you, she will help you in anything you do. She likes to help people and expect nothing in return.

If she asks you for a favor and does not get one, she will feel very disappointed. She has a high hope and a high faith and beliefs in her own confident than believing in "Luck". If she is your wife, you will have nice and clean home and a gourmet cooking. If your parents visit your house, they will be pleased. She is a 3 in 1 - a perfect mother, a perfect housewife, a perfect wife or you could say "happily ever after".

It's pointless writing this piece of literary genius. Not only will the beauty dismiss anything remotely flattering I say about her, but she's going to do/say something the next time I meet her, which will make me think 'I need to mention this', and I'll have to rewrite the entire thing. Nevertheless, this piece shall be written, regardless of its life expectancy.

I regret not having met her sooner. Here's a girl who'll, utterly effortlessly, bowl you over within minutes of initiating a conversation. If I sound awestruck, it's because I am. She is a brilliant conversationalist. Adorably insane at times (rather, adorably insane, period!) Has an inimitable style to most everything about her. Smart, stylish, and sharper than a four-inch Louboutin stiletto. Individualistic to the superlative degree. Undermines herself a great deal, which just makes her more a pleasure to be around.

LADY, congratulations on being the first person to have me at a loss for suitable adjectives to describe YOU. You're something else !!!

"Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust..."

The road from his house glistened in the rain. It is a belief that when someone great passes away, it rains. The mist was heavy. Silence hung in the air, without reason. We saw it coming towards us. Not a word was spoken for the past hour or so. What was there to be spoken or heard? Some wailing reached my ears, I looked up to the sky. I wasn’t looking for someone who was not there; I was trying to hold back my tears. The gates opened and the van went in.

They asked us to see his face for one last time. I did. I thought of the times we were together. If only I had known. I offered him my salutations; it was all that I could offer, to him and his family. Like a true ‘Christian’ I knelt down in front of him. I knelt there with my eyes closed and my hands cupped. I didn’t realize then, that I was to give, not to ask. My friends followed the suit. We knelt still, in mourning. We rose like brothers and wept like men. One of us was taken away. They carried him to the van, covered his face with a black-satin cloth. A cloth was all it took!

The nine of us walked to the graveyard. We took the shorter route. As we roamed towards the cemetery, we caught each others glances. The eyes showed no hope, no future. It showed loneliness and loss. We then realized there was never a shepherd, but only us and him. I looked back time and again. Maybe, he was still back there sitting on his bean bag, munching on his cream bun. The van was there before us, it had already started unloading the coffin. We offered to carry and they told we were too young. One of my friends smiled at this, a tear drop fell from his cheek. They carried him across the gate and we were left behind. We couldn’t follow him onto to death. He had taken the stairway to heaven. We stood there not knowing what had to be done.
Then a small boy came running towards us. He looked familiar. He asked us to follow him. Before I could think, my feet started following him. We ran after him. For a fleeting glimpse it was like the old days. We ran like the wind, breaking all barriers. Up the curvy roads we ran, till we came upon a peak. From there we could see the whole cemetery, every inch of it. Lines of tombstones and crosses lay in front of us. Right in the centre, there was a gathering. We realized then it was not burial.

We stood there against the backdrop of a morning sky. The sun shone brightly behind us. We saw it all without the blink of an eye. It was hope that had dawned. A new chapter that was to begin. The boy stood along with us. He must have seen this happen a lot of times. We shed the boy in us then, grew up into men. Men, who shed tears, who made sure for every drop of tear we shed we’ll will make Him pay. The fire that burned in us then, was a fire that will rage on for the rest of our lives. We shall bring down those barriers that make us mere mortals. We shall tear away those fabrics that arrested him with fire. We will come to claim him, then be prepared, we will not beg nor will we ask. We shall come with our swords brandished. We seek neither vengeance nor vendetta. We seek blood, we seek your life. Await the sound of the hooves. When we are ready we shall come to kill.

Reasons, you gave us none
But we, shall give you one.
Not as silent whispers,
But as strong voices,
him, him, him....

"An Aspiring Engineer at Work!!"

The Prof. comes to class. He stands at the dais waiting for the kill. Young minds brace themselves for another war. They have defeat written all over their faces. Can they last? The words start coming like arrows. They will not last long. Its time. One by one, their heads fall down. They did not even fight, it was matter of seconds and all that lay in the battlefield were closed minds.

The jet of arrows stopped for a second, the smoke cleared and there was a young mighty boy. His head rose like a soldier. He was the last man standing, a true knight who won the battle for the whole of student-kind. He came prepared to class with a pillow in the form of a book 'Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts' (Sheer size). He is there in everyone of you, open your eyes to close them. It better to sleep knowingly rather than unknowingly.

Why?
My dad always told me 'excellence is the only pursuit that is worth the effort'. I believe that book pillows are excellent compared to hard wooden benches.

When?
I was sleeping in my room. My roommie woke me up and asked me to attend the lecture. I decided to continue my precious sleep over there. I love the design on the cover of the book.

What?
This word followed by a few words about my inefficiency, aimlessness, goalessness etc. will be my mom's reaction when she sees this picture.

Why again?
Won myself 50 bucks, got publicity, made people laugh, had fun!

Where?
MMT (Metrology and Machine tools, I think I've got it right). I pity the prof. But I just hate the subject. I automatically get up when number 01 answers his roll call. I am 02. Hope, I inspired a lot of youngsters. The Prof. promised a 3 hour lecture one saturday. It's tough to smuggle in a mattress to class unnoticed.

Reasons i'd thought i'll give if i had been caught

- It was lying in the class, it is not mine. He'll believe cos' no one can believe that students will come to class equipped with a pillow.
- I have osteoperosis. My bones are too brittle and they might crumble when rested against hard surfaces.
- Tell him the truth, get suspended even worse expelled. Then go on and change the history of the world.

Years later, people will talk about this incident and loads of people will get inspired. Realisation will dawn to them, that life is not all about marks and a job.

"C.H.I.L.D.R.E.N"

My cousin sister is in primary school. She was preparing for a math exam. I asked her a few easy questions which she answered. Then threw some tough ones which she tried to answer. I thought I should 'advice' her to study real hard and score high marks. But, then I did study hard and it has not done wonders to my life. Maybe, I should ask her to work smart. I doubt if she knew what smart work was. So, the question is what really should I tell her.

"I wouldn't tell them anything, infact I would sit by the fireplace and listen to them all day long.That is what they need and thats exactly what they are starved of." - Marilyn Manson.

Let them play in the sands without any fear.
Let them dance in the rain without any concerns of catching a cold.
Let the laugh without any fear over the smallest trivialties of life.
Let them dream about flying like their superheroes.
Let them do things just for the sake of having fun.
Let them have the greatest of friends for playing a game of hide and seek.

Give them a childhood that they shall cherish and remember. Give them an childhood without voilence, guns, terrorism, killing, massacres, money, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes. Give them mango trees to climb and mangoes to pluck, along with which a neighbour, to chase them around. Give them great books to read and movies to watch. Give them a culture to lean on to. Give them education and give them a greener earth. Beyond all this, give them your ears and all your love.

I want to see them smile and laugh. Every act of theirs which brings so much laughter. There are no races, no religion, no sects they are children.
If not for anybody else, let us give them a future. Isn't that something to fight for? Isn't that worth living for???

"To My Love.."

She is now a year old and she has got so much more beautiful since the last time I saw her. She was sleeping on the bed with her hands and legs spread at angles.Her fists clenched and the breeze from the fan stroking her gently on her hair. She was sleeping as if she had no fear or pain in the world. A Purity that belonged to God, Vivian Richards and Pink Floyd. She stirred for second and I held my breath.But then, she went back to sleep again.

If there is a battle I would fight, it should be for people like her. I will set for her an example, that life is all about dreaming. Being matured does not mean losing out on humour. She should grow up to be fearless. I will fight them till I die. Till the last breath in me, I will not allow them to win the battle.

Happy Birthday... NEHA... This is your loving cousin, your loving boyfriend, your loving Valentine !!

"Yours Truly"

Years of mere existence amidst the human race can never leave you untouched. Each passing moment leaves an impression like patterns on an untrodden path.The mind studies its surroundings and forms its opinions and viewpoints about life and in general everything it encompasses. I found bits of me over the years, been a constant struggle though having to re-locate not just physically but in terms of the mind and emotion.

Finding myself in a new school every 2 years gulping in a new culture and blending in with the crowd. Sure it was hard letting go of familiar things and a life-pattern that I got accustomed to, but not for once have I regretted any of it. As I left each place I carried with me a piece of it in my being my personality and character. If not for the movement and variation in my life and surroudings I would have missed out on soo much. I've learnt to smile through roughtimes, to feel strong in my lows, to want to dream and make them real, to hide my pain and instead find medicine in another's laughter.

To have faith in myself and trust others. To be ready to venture the unknown and experiment. But the most beautiful lesson learnt is that happiness is not expensive, I've learnt to enjoy and appreciate the smallest of things and the most insignificant of gestures. I've also developed an unsatiable urge to see those around me rolling with laughter. Sure there are times I wish I could just be, but the time to leave comes and you just learn to move on... to forge new relations and make fresh memories...

At present a sense of content and sheer joy overwhelms me at the thought of all the places I've stayed in the 15 odd houses I've made my home and the best of it all the friends I've made each of whom helped me discover who I am and what I can do. Though most of them I hardly meet its only a matter of closing my eyes and memories flood back from the times spent in solving the wonders of algebra to watching the waves wash away our names on the sea-shore. Those lovely people came into my life or rather I barged into theirs to develop a bond that seems so wonderful, and one I will always cherish..

"Poetically Disillusioned"

What I live for

I live for those who love me
Whose hearts kind and true
For all those human ties that bind me
For the task I believe is assigned to me

I live for those who know me through
And trust me even in my gloom
For brighter hopes yet to find me
And for the little good that’s yet to be done

I live for a distant future
For I know I shall have one
My convictions, I know there are some left
Grow with each new day
I know it’s easy to give up
But I’ve made my choice and I will go on..


Lost it ..

I often wonder, at myself
How lost forlorn I am
Like the books on my shelf
Life is seeming to loose its aim
I guess it’s all a complex game.
I know now one day I will fall
My body is becoming a machine after all
Day after day I drag it everywhere
Seems like my eyes know only to stare
Is it time to alter my attitude
Yes I guess that is the only way to liberate

I know it seems like I have lost it all
My past, my present, also my tomorrow
It makes me feel like a defeated soldier
But maybe life’s battle is meant to go on
And this is all for me to reach my end.

"Unsure !!"

Of all the things I believed in
The last teardrop is all I am left with.
It insists on being with me.
The little pearl hesitates to fall
And my finger refuses to wipe it away.

Sometimes I imagine how it would be
To feel free
To enjoy the wind of joy blow past me
For a minute
That’s all I ask
I’m told miracles happen
But am tired of waiting
Tired of letting things be

I feel a numbness overwhelm me
Why don’t I feel the pain anymore
I know it’s there
I can still see the smoky vision of
A distant future
Will it be a better one
That I cannot tell
All I can do is
Hope it will last….

"Rain on ME !!"

Clouds crowd over her thinking in disgust how dirty and dusty she looked.
Little did she know what was being plotted against right then, while she stagnated down here.
Drip..drip..thud..splash..thunder a flicker..Splatter shower time cried Cochin.
Yes, Cochin finally got a shower spree and I thoroughly enjoyed it danced in the rain like crazy on my terrace dragged Alec (my pet pug) along too was total fun.
The smell of fresh air, the sight of lush green trees drenched buildings not a inch left untouched by rain including me. The city looked splendid to me.
I return home.
Then a germ of a thought struck me.

Life often throws at you a series of questions and situations
Ever wondered why me? Well I have on several occasions.
Why does it always have to rain on me, then I think why shouldn't it, I mean it does on the rest of the world doesn't it so why not rain on me. You stand alone without an umbrella in the pouring rain. Moments later you're everything but dry.

So many questions so few answers.

To quote Travis
"Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining.
I cannot avoid the lightening."

I figured there is no point cribbing, fuming and fretting about how life sucks and everything seems to go wrong with you and it seems to be raining all over you, your life and your entire being.
Just catch a little raindrop put it in your hand, hold on to it ,enjoy it till it finally vanishes just like life!!

Not making much sense now am I?
Just some random thoughts I had.

"Qualified Crap"

Am sure we have all gone through some low phases in our lives. I for one have had various instances when I just wished I could vanish into thin air to avoid the scrutiny of this world. But is this life only meant to crib away. I was talking to a friend the other day and he was telling me how he never seemed to find anything in his life worth living for and that he was merely passing each day in bitter agony (all this because the love of his love abandoned him) in normal circumstances a good friend would lend him a shoulder and wipe his tears. But with all my abnormalities intact I just had to knock some sense into the guy.

It seemed to me that all her worries originated from this one word "expectation’’.

Its actually the case in most situations of life when one expects something to happen (or last forever like in the case of my friends love) so bad that when things don’t exactly work out the way we want it too, we just feel devastated and breakdown.

So I guess what we need to do is stop having any sort of expectation from life and people around us this might help ease lots of ‘"pains’’ in one’s life. As for my friend he got through his pain and has found a new passion in life no not another guy this time its books, booze and music. (Talk about substitutes).

Well it’s true that most often what you expect never happens and what you least expect embraces you. It’s this element of mystery that thrills me about life and people, it’s weird I know but I am one of those person’s who loves being taken aback by surprise (don’t confuse with shock)...

"Obscure SHIT"

Didn't know what to put up next on my blog... So decided to let the world see my crappy short story written in aprox. 20 minutes under pressure for submission as part of a weird cult fest event... here goes..

What Women Want

Every man has in some point of his life wrecked his grey cells for an absolute answer to the evergreen question—What do women want? Many philosophers, scholars, doctors and even psychologists have tried to solve the mystery behind the whole façade of the oh-so-coveted confident and, may I add, conceited persona of a woman [I ask pardon from all feminists]. It's sad but true that men never seem to really understand what women want probably because even the womenfolk themselves are yet to figure that one out….

Well for all you men reading this, I am not here to answer/share any heart wrenching questions regarding how to satisfy your women… coz I myself have not been able accomplish that task... It's after tremendous research and switching my full time, well paying, white collared job (all because of my maid.... not the full time service, but the clean and spotless collars) to that of a psychologist/counsellor/agony uncle and after being through heartbreaks in abundance(not mine.. but my clients), that I shall enlighten you about the decisions men make to fulfill women, to reach what they think is heaven on earth only to find out that it was a mere illusion much like a Microsoft screensaver…


Pheroze, our man, the average Arabic male, with his blazed complexion and ferociously tempting looks he was always a head turner and desirable. As a teenager he recalled all his friends talking about marrying this really beautiful princess—mush like the Arabian nights story, but Phizi [a shorter version of his name acquired because of his frizzled hair] always wanted something more out of life. He never seemed to be content and people say its hard to ever satisfy women… well lets not deviate from our story now, shall we? All right… So! Where were we… Ah! Our little Phizi is no longer a teenager he is now an adult very much allowed to visit a pub without any identification and also allowed to watch all those X-rated movies he longed to see as a child [not that he didn't sneak into the theatre quietly many a times]… Let me tell my own story says Phizi so over to him…

I was a peaceful soul never quarreled much except the usual once a week fights at the pub, my financial status was pretty much secure as I had a steady income being a cab driver. So, once I achieved everything in life—which is mostly nothing—I decided it was time to get married…

And the girl of my dreams was at present standing right in front of me shaking her belly like the head of an angry cow. No, she was not a raving lunatic… she was just earning her living as a belly-dancer.

Her name was Shanaz. She was god's gift to mankind perfect in all respects and I mean all respects in the eyes of a man. I was her most loyal audience. Even on Muslim holy days I made it a point to watch her perform. When others were busy reading the Koran here I was transfixed by her feminine grace and sensuous movements. I always wanted to talk to her but once her performance was over she disappeared—probably to some fairy land where she lived with her other angel-like friends.

Then one gloomy Wednesday afternoon as I was picking up my neighbors kid I found my angel Shanaz standing there clad in a blue burkha looking, as always, mind blowing, leading the children towards their parents… Yes, you are right. She was the teacher. She doubled during the day as a prep school teacher. This was it the chance of a life time and I had to utilize it. So I walked up to her with every little bit of confidence I could feign and there she was beaming with her lovely smile, "Why hello!'' I muttered.

"Hello," she, continuing to flash her smile, said "aren't you the guy who comes for all my shows?"

I shyly said, "Yes. I haven't missed one from the first time I saw you perform."

She looked pleased and almost broke into a laugh while saying "That's really flattering but I think this place is not appropriate to discuss my alter ego."

Her words were like honey to my ears and I immediately asked her out for a cup of Arabic chai. That's how it all began we kept meeting regularly after that and then she told me about her family and her four sisters who lived miles away from their workplace, the school since all four of them were teachers. I, out of genuine concern and intentions to become closer to Shanaz, offered to help commute the four sisters to and from school. She was more than pleased with me and even planted a slight peck on my cold cheeks.

Thus, I became a household figure for Shanaz and her folks. I thought now the time was right to make my move and so I proposed marriage to Shanaz. She was happy initially but then her smile faded and in a regretful tone she said, "I love you a lot but can't marry you,"

I was devastated. Then she went on to say "It's not you—it's me. I just can't. You know very well abbu is no more so ami wants us four sisters to always be close to her. So when we all came of age she called us to her room and made us promise her that none of us will ever fall in love and get married but will marry the same man so that he can stay with us and we can all be united. She said four men and four women in the same house will only lead to adultery and complication, I know it's would be really mean of me to expect you to marry my sisters just for my joy, I cannot be so selfish I love you too much for that."

It was the longest night of my life I kept pondering over what Shanaz had said and finally made my way to the pub. There I was amidst men totally under the influence of alcohol. I immersed myself in a harak [the strongest drink available]

My drinking buddies were full of enthusiasm and were happy for me, even the quietist of our group Araf came over to me and said "Man are you lucky or what… here I am struggling to get one girl and kuddha has blessed you with four women!"

There I was slowly lured into the idea of enjoying four really enticing women. So I thought to myself, This is what Shanaz wants not me, so I am innocent… Women are strange… Anyway I didn't really want to get into that.

I woke up the next day with a bad head ache but the first thing I did was go visit Shanaz and tell her I was really willing to marry the four sisters. So the nikah was fixed and since for some odd reason our religion permits polygamy here I was getting married to four woman clad in strange brightly colored clothes. Everything seemed beautiful that day the thought of being able to finally have Shanaz as my own and yes, the four sisters filled me with an unusual pleasure. After the grand fest, we finally retired and as I was walking towards the upper chamber I heard my wife.

Oh! Wives having their first quarrel. Yes the first of the many that was to follow and the topic of discussion was well the obvious… The question of the first night… oh Allah! What have I got myself into...