On Turning Older

Over the years, the lines will deepen

The body will lose its dexterity

Wearing my jeans may still be possible

But wearing my shorts will be a rarity

Skin will sag, chin will jiggle

And drooping shoulders will be regularity

And even as they walk behind me thinking

That my bottom is an aspect of hilarity

I'll hold court with gusto, with my news and views

Each laced with sarcasm and vulgarity

My body will give up to age and time
But my wit will still display peculiarity

Old age is coming and more often than not

The mind is a haze of non-clarity
So before I turn comatose and clueless
Let me donate my eyes to charity.

I Believe You're Not There

They tell me You live in that big temple with bigger security

But I believe You're not there

They tell me You'll only see people who walk bare feet and wait for hours

But I believe You're not that unfair

They tell me You like blocking the traffic and blaring the music

But I believe that's not Your style

They tell me You can be won over by keeping hungry on Tuesdays

But I believe that will only prove futile

They tell me You love it when we share praises about You on Facebook

But I believe You're not that pretentious

They tell me You'd rather not meet women who're menstruating

But I believe you're far more judicious

They tell me You're inventing new ways to win people back to You

But I believe You're not that desperate

They tell me You only reward people who're ready to pledge loyalty to You

But I believe loyalty and love are not commensurate

They tell me You send those who do bad stuff to hell

But I believe You display better acumen

They tell me You have a big appetite for the good stuff and the bad

But I believe it just makes You more human

They tell me You have a thing for self-righteous priests and retarded rituals
But I believe You just don't care

They tell me You live in that big temple with bigger security
But I believe You're not there.

Romantically Adept

You've always been factual, not endearing
Your words precise, so persevering


Factual is wonderful really, but you don't understand
Sometimes, all you have to do is hold my hand


And say something that will make me feel less solitary
Rather than console me with a de facto commentary


Yes,I know I'm strong and independent and blessed
But to constantly remind me so, makes me suspect


That you don’t want to say anything undue
Maybe you fear that I’ll misconstrue


But you ought to know that a woman won’t misunderstand
When you say Darling, she won’t think of a wedding band


So I'm just saying this with as much clarity as I can collect
To hell with being factual, be romantically adept.

An Ode To The Common Cold

Of all the worries, of all the woes
Nothing quite matches a stuffy nose

Nasal congestion is pretty democratic

It could strike a child, adult or geriatric

When it hits you, you feel like crap

Your voice sounds whiney, your nose is a tap

If you try to sleep, guaranteed you'll fail

You'll toss and turn, but you won't inhale

The mucus, you see, is a terrible malady

Steam could clear it, or some other remedy

Some use an inhaler like a baby pacifier

Others drink whiskey, but it only gets them higher

As for me, I roll in self-pity

Let my friends all know that I'm in Viral City

Hire a DVD, take tissues to bed

Or crawl to the kitchen, make soup and bread

My septum is on a strike but my stomach is not

So while my nose is runny, I still eat a lot

Then as I sleep, I remember to pray

And surprisingly, tonight there's just one thing to say

Oh Common Cold, I'll forget and forgive

But for goodness sake, just let me live.

You Should Hang On To Him

You keep telling me he’s no better than slime
And all because he asks for more me-time
And just because he goes to sleep watching TV
Doesn’t mean his love for you isn’t sublime
You guys seem good, or am I missing something?
Agreed, he doesn’t visit the gym
He’s worth his weight in gold, what I’m saying is
You should hang on to him.



He lacks ambition and I won’t describe him as driven
The fact that he’s lackluster is a given
But he’s a likeable bloke when drunk and quiet
And when you see that sincere smile, all is forgiven
You love him, unless that has changed – has it?
Then the situation looks kind of grim
But if you think you’re cooler, that’s not true
You should hang on to him.


You’ve got designer friends and a job with a title
Your features are sharp, statistics vital
But you’re a selfie who doesn’t need a camera
Somewhat like a performer always giving a recital
So stand back and stop writing him off
You’re just as forgettably interim
Hang on to what’s best, hang on to my words
You should hang on to him.

Lost My Heart, Never Found It

It was a whisper of a suggestion

And it triggered off a flame

I guess I wanted a reaction

I thought you felt the same

And as I burnt in the demolition
Of love going down the drain
I knew what we'd shared was over
And we'd never go down that lane

I lost my heart and never found it
To be honest I never tried
Because it felt good to have burnt in passion
Which forever, I thought had died

I lost my heart and never found it
To be honest, I'm glad I'm crying
Because it's true that love is faithless
But that shouldn't stop me from trying

You've sold out to the rhyme and reason
And my life has hardly been a clean chit
But there's just one truth left, till the end of days
That I've lost my heart and never found it.

A Mean, Mean Note

You've made it amply known and how

That you're surrounded all the time

By fan mails and admirers and crazy flying objects

I'm not saying that's a crime

But surely you're competent enough to know
And it doesn't take Holmes-type detection
Your updates are packed with fizz and froth

But your toxic persona needs more conviction

One day, I thought I'd have a seizure

When you went on for hours about your phone

Then I heard you talk about some campaign you cracked
And it was as insufferable as a kidney stone

Much like a corporate brochure you sound

Brimming with lofty vision statements
And your pathetic attempts at being humble

Are just as forced as in-film placements

Am I being mean, yes undoubtedly

I'm a bad penny, I feel no remorse

And much as you're bound to be fit and fantastic
In being nicer, I'll take a refresher course.

Good, Bad

The good news is the flame is still there

The bad news is I've forgotten how to start a fire

The good news is that work is aplenty
The bad news is that plenty of the work is terrible

The good news is that people are generally nice

The bad news is that I'm not generally nice with them

The good news is that laughter is easy

The bad news is the laugh is often on me

The good news is the house looks great
The bad news is it's still not my home

The good news is that friends will beckon
The bad news is that I've nothing to hold them back

The good news is that change is inevitable
The bad news is that I distrust change

The good news is that life is decent
The bad news is that I'm not good with decent

The good and the bad
The yin and the yang
On a melancholic morning
A not-so-young poet sang.

My Selfie is for You, not for Me

I tried a top angle first, then a side profile
My Sunday overflowing with frustration
Then I got one where I looked thin, but not too happy
Finally, I met my expectation
Now only if you'd like it,my world would be complete
Only if this picture would change your perception
If not I'll change it in a nano-second, you see
I'll do anything to seed a deception


My selfie is for you, not for me
Coz I'm trying my best to distort reality
My world is fun, it's got no glitch
Though up close and personal, I'm just an empty little bitch.


Candid works best, but the pout is essential
Naive is wholesome, if laced with wicked intention
Whether we nail the conversation, matters miniscule
As long as we nail a selfie, we'll fight ridicule
So judge me on my selfie, not my self-worth
And crown me the princess in your head
If not, I'll clutter your brain with a thousand more images
I'll do anything to mislead and be misread


My selfie is for you, not for me
I've sold out to a world debauched on imagery
My world is cool and I'm pretty and rich
Though up close and personal, I'm just an empty little bitch.

The Lady Got Spunk

She isn't the goddess of propriety

And she hasn't lived the life of a monk

She may have a few skeletons in her closet
And a couple more hidden in the trunk

But when it comes to biting the bullet

And speaking aloud what she's thunk

Make no mistake, she'll roll the dice

Coz that lady, she got spunk.

She won't be checking the right boxes
Or walking hand-in-hand with the hunk

She may not look half as graceful
When she stumbles and falls, quite drunk

But when it comes to taking her chances

And making do with joys that have shrunk

Make no mistake, she'll spin the game

Coz that lady, she got spunk.


She won't win the Grand Slam for popularity
And her manner, it's eyebrow-raising funk

She's planned her life to be plan-less

And knows that she's pretty much sunk

But there's one thing about her that is boundless
There's one fact you can't debunk

Make no mistake, she'll show her mettle
Coz that lady, she got spunk.

So Vanilla

Once upon a time, you had a point of view

One that was atypical, but so typical of you

Today it's watered down into 'everything is fine'

Nothing is improper, you never cross the line

Non-committal reactions

Non-frictional interactions

You were a pretty cool fella
When did you become so vanilla?

Your stories at parties are always so nice

They're like beautiful looking dishes, that somehow lack spice

You never have an opinion that comes with a sting

You're scared of being the outsider, or the ridicule it'll bring

Conformist not by choice

Always the reasonable voice

You were a pretty cool fella
When did you become so vanilla?

Some things are wrong, yet they feel so right
Some days are lived, without clinging to the light
Some thoughts should be aired, even if they're volatile
Some risks should be taken, even if they're futile
Go against the grain
Stop being so plain
You were a pretty cool fella
When did you become so vanilla?

The Ordinary Side of Me

I cry easily

Unnecessarily at times

And eat ginger biscuits

Too many for my good

But that's not going to make you like me

Because that's not wild or whacky or wanton

So let me try and say something shocking

I've shoplifted.

I like crows

But I like owls better

And hate lukewarm tea

Not down my throat, no

But that's not going to make you like me

Because it's not clever or cool or catchy

So let me try and say something shocking

I've kissed a girl.

I am clueless

About money and maps and meditation

And I pretend to read some books

When actually, I haven't even heard of them

But that's not going to make you like me

Because it's not sassy or spunky or savvy

So let me say something shocking
I'm done.

Kerosene

One day you're surprising me

Next day, you're chastising me

And when I do something out of character

No doubt, you're analyzing me

Your faults are only human

And mine are close to umpteen

But you're the fuel to my fire

Baby, you're kerosene

There's a blowout in the making

And you know it's coming fast

It's going down and won't be pretty

And we can only hope to make it last

Our life will get all tangled

Like a dish of say, chowmein

But when you come close, much closer

Baby, I'm kerosene

So the moment is here to live out

Much like a glistening, polished knife

And whether you flick it or drag it

It'll leave a scar for life

And simply because you don't get it

And simply because it's not routine

It's still a bonfire in the making

And Baby, we're kerosene.

Simple, Normal Day

The chai is good, my maid has come

The sun is streaming, breakfast is done

I got up late, no deadlines to meet

I have no need to look pretty or neat

No one unexpected has come to the door

I've cooked dal and rice, it tastes as good as before

It's a simple normal day, I hope it stays that way

And this poem is ordinary, but that's okay.

The television is on, and love is in the air

My favourite show is serving predictable fare

My mind is wandering, and I love that it does

There's nowhere to go, so why make the fuss

My friends call, they're staying up late

But by going to bed, I've sealed my fate

It's a simple normal day, I hope it stays that way

And this poem is ordinary, but that's okay.

Then I close my eyes, and expect to sleep

But what I see, takes an astonishing leap

And normal becomes strange, and strange becomes crazy

And crazy gets crazier, my thoughts are a bit hazy

And my roller-coaster mind, it takes a long-haul flight

And simple normal days turn into not-so-simple nights

It's a simple normal day, I hoped it would stay that way

And this poem is ordinary, but nothing else is okay.

Today's not a Day like Everyday

I walk out into the morning

Do the skies seem a little bluer?

It can't have changed in a day, I mean

But can it be that today is truer?

Today's not a day like Everyday

Today's not like Everyday at all

Today's not a day like Everyday

Today, I don't feel all that small.

A crow looks beautiful on the wire

The traffic is dragging, but what's the hurry

And when I feel the sun skim upon my skin

It doesn't feel like this day is so ordinary.

Today's not a day like Everyday

Today feels a little inside-out

Today's not a day like Everyday

And I know tomorrow willl be filled with doubt.

Random Observations of a Hungry Mind

You Sir, you're a Flirt

And it's quite known that you chase the skirt

And while you pretend to deny

 That you've got a case of glad-eye

 Be warned, you won't escape unhurt

You Madam, you're a Tease

And while you can do as you please

 You can't cry foul

 And then begin to howl

 When you lead them on and then freeze

You Mister, you're a Quitter

What's worse, you're a fence sitter

 You're not sure what you want

And despite the machismo you flaunt

You're as lost as a pup in the litter.

You Girl, you're a Keeper

Problem is, men don't look deeper

So while you're all homely

And decidedly comely

There's a high chance you'll end up a weeper

You dude, you're a Show Stopper

And by god, your looks are a jaw dropper

The gym keeps you busy

You send girls into a tizzy

But as for wit, there you're a pauper

You lassie, you're a Whiner

No obstacle is ever minor

Tears are your tool

But nobody's a fool

So brace up, life won't get any finer.

Oh weary world, don't stop reading

Just because my words are bleeding

With sarcasm and acid

And nothing close to placid

I think I'm hungry, I need feeding.

The Fix

Fix me a drink, will you

Make it strong, two cubes of ice

I’ll laugh while you tell me a joke

Or we could just stop being nice

  

You could tell me of your travels

And I could pretend to ask more questions

But the night won't be charmed by our chatter

Or with our best intentions  

You’re charming, I’m cute and all that jazz

But that never makes for an igniter

So should we shut the lights and go our ways

Rather than make it an all-nighter?

And just as you start to light a smoke

And just as I look at the ceiling

The unsaid gets spoken, the spoken gets bite

And we discover a nice, new feeling  

So give it time to brew

Fix me a drink, will you

Make it strong, two cubes of ice

Settle down, let's make this nice.

But Stay?

You're done speaking and yet, you've got something to say

You're done blaming yourself and yet, you have demons to slay

And while others are figuring out your life

It's been cutting you up like a knife

And you just want to go

You just want to go

But stay?

You're done holding on and yet, you're told to keep doing it

You're done paying for your lies and yet, you can't help undoing it

And while others are talking of healing

You've got this empty feeling

And you just want to go

You just want to go

But stay?

You're done with the smiling and yet, you wish there was a reason to smile

You're done with the philosophies and yet, you wish they weren't so futile

And while hope is in the making

Your resolve is kind of breaking

And you just want to go

You just want to go

But stay?

Sold

Out there is a world

That's opening up to your story

And just when you stand at the brink

You trip and fall into glory

It takes you for a sweetened ride

And you devour it in haste

One bitter pill of failure down,

You choke on the after taste

The road has ended, the ride is done

And the sign on you says 'Sold'

And all you have to show is this

That you're weary and rich and old.

Don't give up on me just yet

Truth is, I’m a little less stronger
I’m a little more brittle and broken
Truth is, there’s nothing new to tell you
Except that I’m out in the open

Truth is, I’m such a sham and bad at it
And I play it up by being direct
Truth is, there's a smile that's hiding somewhere
So don’t give up on me, just yet.


Truth is, there’s an open diary out here
And it’s got tales that are far from diabetic
Truth is, we’re all alike but we don’t know it
So you and I, we’re pathetic

Truth is, life has made its own choices
And we’re not part of its chosen set
Truth is, we’ll leave it all behind someday
So don’t give up on me, just yet.

His Myth, His Truth

He battles traffic to reach work on time
While another battle rages in his head
He cracks a joke, steps out for a smoke
And then carries his pain to bed

He makes a point at most meetings
While he desperately looks for one in life
And it goes without mention, he gets the attention,
As the loneliness cuts through like a knife

He shares his bed with the ladies
He makes friends at the bar
At karaokes he's singing, his phone won't stop pinging
But thats the view from afar

His reason to live is a myth
His manner of living is all-suffering
But he'll continue to shine, and believe he's fine
While his tale, it continues buffering.

Don't Ask

Don’t ask me if I have the time

When you don’t have the inclination

Don’t ask me if I will take forever

When you don’t have a hold on the situation

Don’t ask me if I am feeling bad

When you’ll never do me any good

Don’t ask me if I feel insecure

When you’ve never made yourself understood

Don’t ask me the road to happiness

When the path you take is long and winding

Don’t ask me if we were meant to be

When you’re so clueless, it’s blinding

Don’t ask me if we’re heading for trouble

When trouble is what we’re having for dinner

Don’t ask me if we’ll ever be good

When you don't know a saint from a sinner.

When I Let You In

 

I'll let you in
Through the stories
To the sadness
To the shame that makes me lie

I'll let you in
Through the filters
To the sorrows
To the fears that make me cry

And it will all be rather morbid
And it will all be rather strange
For your journey will end in nothing
Nothing that you can change

I'll let you in
Through the wildish
To the childish
To the girl that makes me shy

I'll let you in
Through the maze
To the mayhem
To the passion that makes me fly

And it will all be rather wonderful
And it will all be wicked-strange
And that's the thing about journeys
One turn and things will change.

Speaking of Which

I have been in love with you for years
So many, that I don’t know how many
Speaking of which

There are many reasons to love you
So many, that I don’t know which one is most important
Speaking of which

You are the most important person in my world
So important, that I don’t know what I’d do minus you
Speaking of which

The only minus about you is your poor sense of humour
So poor, it actually makes me cry
Speaking of which

I wince each time I open your Twitter page
So badly, because it’s sucks
Speaking of which

Badly is exactly how I’ve been lately
So bad, I think I may be in love
Speaking of which

I have been in love with you for years
So many, that I don’t know how many.

Same Same, Different Year

And so we wake with a heavy head
Read the papers, check the forecast ahead

The predictions are vanilla, but we live in hope
This year will be better, we’ll do more than just cope

Eat healthy, think positive, get drunk far less
Bury the past, get a move on, deal with the stress

Go to the gym, find a hobby, remember to smile
Get paid better, save money, donate once in a while

Cut down on shopping, read books, sleep easy
Make less plans, go with the flow, be breezy

Wishing life takes a turn, for the cheery and the clear
And yet we continue, same-same, different year.

This Too Shall Pass

We must maintain our composure
We must learn not to weep
We must keep faith in the fact
That the past is buried when we sleep

And so we condition our minds
But when we wake up, alas
The night has died, but the cliché survives
That maybe, this too shall pass.

Can this storm be calmed down
Can it be numbed by witty conversation
Can we continue with the cheer and wine
While hurtling in the opposite direction

There’s no telling what will happen
For all of it seems such a farce
The further we grieve, the further we believe
That maybe, this too shall pass.

What's your Type?

Seriously conformist
or nonchalantly jovial
Homely and laidback
Or supersonic trivial

Quiet neurotic
Or mixed-bag eclectic
Anti-social wallflower
or emotionally exotic

What’s your type, baby
How do you come undone?
Stereotype, tell me yours
Come on, everyone has one

Time you fixed on that
Instead of seeking something new
You say you don’t get typecast
That’s a joke, and it’s spreading like flu

White meats go best with white wine
And solids go best with stripes
So why oscillate, then hyperventilate
When you can just stick to types

What’s your type, baby
How do you come undone?
Stereotype, tell me yours
Come on, everyone has one.

Our Failings

Words have a habit of failing you

Just when you need them the most

Feelings are obnoxiously outspoken

At times you want to be composed

Regret comes cropping its ugly head

When you think you’ve left it behind

Nostalgia takes a turn for the worse

Even when the future looks kind

Hindsight comes a poor second

Just as the worst is over

Relief hits you like a rolling wave

And immediately runs for cover

Hate is a fickle friend

You never know when it will turn

Love is the sworn enemy

For those who pray for it and burn

Within you they exist

Without them, you’re dead A

And since you won’t ever leave them alone

You insist on taking them to bed

9 out of 10

9 out of 10 Americans eat pizza

At least once a month

It’s a crazy statistic

My mind is frenetic

For 9 out of 10 theories that exist

There’s always an outside chance we’ve missed

One that’s broken out of school

A happy exception to the rule

9 out of 10 smokers in the world

Start smoking at age eighteen

It’s just dangerous thinking

But my heart is sinking

For 9 out of 10 facts that are scary

There’s always a day more ordinary

A bottle of wine that’s chill

And a moment for us to sit still

9 out of 10 victims of lightning

Manage to survive the tragedy

It’s such a consolation

That everything’s not desolation

For 9 out of 10 things that don’t go well

There’s always a chance in hell

That no matter how much you fail

You’ll live to tell the tale.

A Damsel Who Needs To Lament

I’m better off alone, she said

Without a loser like you in bed

She wore her heels and cut her hair

Her clothes were short, or barely there

She danced all night and got home late

Her Facebook statuses were always great

She blamed the men for all things wrong

And told the world her life was a song

Her theories of love were unreal and hazy

Yet her conviction in them, were not short of crazy

Being single was cool, she endorsed

But her words were sounding most forced

Well, who’s to say when she’ll wake up and exclaim

How the fuck did I turn so lame?

The Ballad of a Bachelor

Slowly…
I am seeing things as they should be
Rather than how they could be
And I’m torn.

Slowly…
I’m coming closer to the ending
I’m done with pretending
You’re not gone.

Slowly…
I’m seeing through the haze of pretty
While weathering the gust of pity
Or maybe scorn.

Slowly…
I’ll be forced to leave
This place in my head called Make-believe
And watch porn.

Domino Effect

As a rule of thumb

We often succumb

To things that we won’t ever get

Predictable to a rule

We’ll be someone’s fool

Till we’re forced to let go and regret

 

There’s a pattern we all

Take to our downfall

And no matter what stories we select

To make sense of the mess

It’s tinged with distress

When the dots begin to connect

 

So steer clear

Or live in fear

When things start looking perfect

It’s not peculiar

When the end is near

For things to go down, in domino effect.

Got Nothing To Lose

I’ve had to jump and then lie low
I’ve had to run and then go slow
I’ve had to chase and then follow
I’ve had to stop and then let go

But baby, I’m through with it all
I’ve done my time, I’ve taken the fall
Baby, I’m broken but here’s the news
I’ve lost it all, so I got nothing to lose

I will get past but I won’t get good
I’ll understand and not be understood
I won’t be fine but guess what
I can't be worse, and that's a happy thought

So baby, let’s strike the match
Let’s watch it burn, rather than start from scratch
Let’s take the detour, just let’s cut loose
For when you’ve lost it all, you got nothing to lose.

Lukewarm

Its lost the burn of hot
Its too early to be called cold
Its meandered into in-between
Its used up the quality of bold

Its turned its back on urgent
Yet, it would be unfair to say its dead
In a land called Lukewarm
Things are better left unsaid

Its moved beyond the superlative
Its got stuck in the so-so
Its changed track from manic
And drifted to a pace more slow

Its apathy is showing, its breath is dying
Its clearly past the storm
And yet, it’s there and will remain
In a land that’s called Lukewarm.

Cliche Junkie

All things said and done and heard
I guess it’s tough to be original
Because hey, there isn’t a fresh thought
That qualifies as cerebral
But silence is golden, or haven’t you heard
When you have nothing to say, say nothing
Wrapping your thoughts in clichés is fine
But the veto is what you’ll be getting
Repeating things oft repeated
Is like doing what I call a Crap Diem
But I guess it’s all been said before
Guilty as charged: Ad Nauseam.

Big Girl, Small World

I’m a big girl now

I don’t need small talk
That takes you away from the larger picture

I don’t cultivate small fries
Who are basically sycophants with large promises

I don’t place my bets on this small world
That is ruled disproportionately by large incomes

I don’t value small mercies
That are compromises wrapped in large wrappings

I don’t find small joys
And that only hurts me largely at times

I don’t appreciate small measures
Because they often divert from the larger plot

I don’t get small lies
Because you always end up being the larger victim

I don’t like the fact that small town dreams
Have resulted in a larger-than-life ego

And yet
As I look into the mirror
I see a person
And she’s smaller
Far smaller a person that she was.

Friday State of Mind

Of all the things I whine about
And a hundred come to mind
That weekend's near, is not one my dear
So Friday, do be kind

My job's got me going nowhere
It's just the daily grind
Things won't get better, there's no increment letter
So Friday, do be kind

My weight oscillates, my jeans don't fit
The effects can be seen on my behind
My love life is a joke, I don't have a bloke
So Friday, do be kind

Today, I shall OD on coffee, skip low-cal
And to work, turn an eye quite blind
Throw back some drinks, catch up on forty winks
That's my Friday state of mind.

Just Go

You’ve been having misgivings lately
And weighing things in your head
Wondering and waiting, sulking and over-stating
Leaving pretty much unsaid

You spend hours with your laptop
And even more over the phone
Texting friends, not making amends
Leaving us in no-man’s zone

And while I have no compelling reason
To suggest what I am doing
I honestly believe, that you should leave
Your whining is worse than your wooing.

Around The Corner

Around the corner, there’s a feeling
It’s called Risk and it is screaming
You better take it now, or forever be
The one who thought indefinitely

Around the bend, there’s a bigger scare
Flaring its nose, it’s called Dare
You better jump now, or forever stand
On the side where everything is pre-planned

Around the turn, there’s another bruise
It’s called Pain and it’s on the loose
You better feel it now, maybe feel degraded
Rather than fake the fun, yet stay quite jaded

Around the road, there’s a bigger stop
It’s called Happiness, and it’s a sheer drop
Hold on to it, or you’re a goner
Coz chances are, there’s something waiting round the corner.

Predictable, Disastrous

We may as well admit it
No point making a fuss
It all boils down to the same old thing
Predictable, Disastrous

The more we analyze the patterns
The more we debate and discuss
In the end, the score card is more often than not
Predictable, Disastrous

And then, we’ll wonder as we always do
Is it everyone or just us
Funnily enough the answers veer towards
Predictable, Disastrous

But hope is a cheap gimmick
A shiny veneer that covers the mess
And through it we’ll emerge to find things are
Predictable, Disastrous.

Playing Hard to Get

It seems men like the chase
And girls should play hard to get
For if you keep 'em guessing
They’ll try harder at impressing
And you’ll have fewer reasons to fret

But that’s a theory quite dreary
And may not have desired effect
Like any sport, mind games have a limit
If you’ve got a point to make, don’t skim it
Stop hemming and hawing, be direct

Now truth be told, being direct and bold
Can prove a habit rather risky
He could reject your advances
Think you’re easy, take his chances
And forget you like last night’s whiskey

But here’s the thing and it’s brilliant
All said and done, it's not so bad
For he may be gone and dusted
Leaving you weary and busted
But you’re better off without that cad.

When The Lights Went Out

Last night the lights went out

And my house was plunged in darkness

I was left alone with my mind

And its innermost recesses

I battled with my turmoil

Over my losses I cried

I talked sternly to my confidence

That had been taken for a ride

I had a conversation with my conscience

I shared secrets with my pain

I reflected over the sublime memories

That would never visit me again

I made peace with what I couldn’t change

And reveled at things I could

Fought with things that got me down

Buried the things I should

And just as suddenly as they had gone

The lights came back and boom!

The person I had met in the dark

Had sadly left the room.

One-Woman Man

Can it be true?
That these creatures are non-fictional
That there exists a tribe, to whom we’d ascribe
Loyalties that are non-seasonal?

Can it be true?
That they settle down and settle for
A life more sedentary, yet far less ordinary
Rather than wanting more?

Can it be true?
That temptations, no matter how glorious
Are nixed at the bud, lest they raise their head
And create a situation quite precarious

Can it be true?
That the one-woman man is for real
He may not be folk lore, but chances are he’s a bore
And that, my ladies, is the real deal.

Plans

I used to have plans

To make it big and travel to small places
To find my groove without losing my mind
To think like a girl and feel like a woman
To live simply and take tough decisions
To feel excited for others, and be calm with myself
 To be quite random, and yet quite sorted
To eat little for dinner, drink lots of water
To pray each night and curse only if I meant it
To change my haircut often, my mind far less
To take the fall, and rise in my opinion

And just as it happens to me in a car
My plans sometimes took the backseat
Which is fine, for it’s the ride that matters
In the end, and not the balance sheet.

Mixed Signals

You call me twenty times a day

And then go incommunicado
You say you miss me all the time
But for months, you’re a no-show


You send me mushy drunken texts
That suggest your heart is for the taking
Then you act cool and so-platonic
Clearly I feel so mistaken


You specialize in sending signals
That are mixed, oh-so-confusing
You blow both hot and cold, all times
An approach that’s not amusing


So sweet Sir, please play your game
Surely you’ll find success
With those looking to be used
Like a pawn in the game of chess.



.

Dirty Secret

The skeleton’s tumbled out of her closet
Have you heard her dirty little secret?

A life packed with grey, a face sans regret
Have you heard her dirty little secret?

Losers weepers, what she’s found, she’s kept
Have you heard her dirty little secret?

She’ll spare you the drama, light up her cigarette
Have you heard her dirty little secret?

She’s a write-off, but don’t do that just as yet
Have you heard her dirty little secret?

We, the Women

Women, we’re a peculiar lot
And I am talking ‘bout each one of us
We’re as shrewish as we’re catty
We’re as smart-ish as we’re batty
I think the word for it is ‘DICHOTOMOUS’

The young ones can be kinda weird
Though older ones are no less weirder
They’ll talk bold, then go coy
Fake orgasms, take your joy
I hear the words men think are ‘BLUE MURDER’

Of course, some men claim they’re wiser
And make feeble attempts to entice her
They’ll hang around, be the nice bloke
Take her to movies, laugh at her joke
I fear the words they end up with are ‘GAME OVER’.

Not Happening Today

A good shampoo needs conditioner
A good dog deserves a bone
A good girl needs a spanking
A good writer needs time alone
A good drink needs company
A good fish calls for chips
A good wallet needs more money
A good wine demands more sips
A good night needs less sleep
A good job needs more pay
A good poem needs a hug
But that's not happening today!

The Screw

The blokes, they say are thinking
Of sex most of the time
The chicks, they love the talking
Which some consider a crime

The rakes, they count vaginas
Like a shepherd counts his sheep
The innocents, they prize their virginity
Then gladly, lose it to a creep

The Indians, claim they’re experts
This side of the Brahmaputra
Their experiences few, their theories vast
They proudly cite the kamasutra

The kids, they’re shielded fiercely
From the proverbial birds and bees
But the parents soon figure, that sex is de rigeur
For a generation fed on sleaze

The 69, well, much has been said
At cocktails, some hold court
Of affairs in the past, when they’ve left ‘em aghast
With their prowess to contort

The truth, when all is said and done
Is that, no matter how you think or act
Whether you’re wedded, or simply just bedded
Life will screw you and that’s a fact.

These days

Tears threaten to well up too soon, without warning

And my jaw hurts in an attempt to smile, its true

These days

I look at childhood pictures and wonder, alarmed

Where the girl in them has vanished, or has she

These days

I wander alone in my flat, stare at an empty fridge

And feel a sinking feeling as I try to sleep, but don’t

These days

I have nothing to lose, yet I feel lost

I get up and get dressed, yet feel stripped

These days

Nothing is the same, yet nothing has changed

All that I say, hear or see, is the same – rearranged

These days

A Note to Fat Cells

I like fat cells, I really do

Though often, my reactions are drastic

They absorb shocks, absorb booze

Though physically, they hang loose

Now, that’s not exactly fantastic

I get this feeling, they’re spiteful

To people who abhor and fight them

They’ll enter without asking

And go to parts most taxing

Then settle down, till you can’t move ‘em

Now if fat cells were more polite

And took permission before entering

Easy come, easy go

Go to bust, not booty, yo

They’d probably be worth sheltering.

Vapours of the Past

She dusts the corners, steadfast

Leaving it all behind

She clears the cobwebs, stringent

Burns the visions, unkind

She cuts her losses, merciless

Chars the memories in her head

She clears the spaces, demonical

Puts the stinging memories to bed

She chides the ghosts, haunting

Covers her scars with smiles

She fills the voids, stretching

With stories that stretch for miles

But as she fumigates, fervently

She realizes, quite aghast

That your drastic attempts are a weak ploy

To escape the vapours of the past.

Can't Erase Your Mind

You've packed your bags

you think you've left it all behind

You've settled your dues

And to the yesterday, turned an eye blind

But here's what you'll discover

Here's what you'll find

You can't erase your mind

You can't erase your mind

You've crushed all the bottles

In an attempt to quench your grief

You've chewed on nostalgia

And spewed regret with relief

But here's what you'll discover

Here's what you'll find

You can't erase your mind

You can't erase your mind.

A short conversation between a Cow and Human

Human: Yo Cow, shoo! Sorry moo...

You look kind of blue

Cow: Yo human, life is a farce

when they give you corn, not grass

Human: They're milking you dry, i heard

But this race to beef you up is surely absurd

Cow: Yup, they want me to get big and fatty

coz that's what makes juicier burger patty

Human: Cow, i don't understand why your spirits must nosedive

When you're keeping the meat chain kicking and alive

(Upon which the cow smiles in a stoic manner and walks off saying)

Fuck the food chain, you guys got my arse

But till then, let me go and get stoned on grass.

Monday, I'll pass.

One way is to grin and bear it

Be cheerful and truly heroic

Another way to face a grim Monday

Is to take the path more stoic

There are the abounding optimists

Who will tell you weekend tales euphoric

But you may want to vomit, sink and die

Or consider options more barbaric

Of course, there’s the profound truth

That this too shall pass

But when Monday brings about utter chaos

Such truisms usually fall flat, alas!

Me, I’ll have a conversation with the walls

And create a grocery list detailed

For when it comes to dealing with Mondays

I’ve been there, done that and failed.

Tilt

There’s a lot to be said about straight talking

But I’m inclined to believe

That a well-told lie is beautiful

That truth is best distilled through a sieve

That a story can serve its purpose

If it’s credible and robustly built

That realization need not be one dosage

That the milk need not be spilt

That the lines are blurring and hazy

That you can live life to the hilt

If you keep the fulcrum more flexible

Rather than topple, if you tilt.

The Fact Is.

Long after the laughter has died down

And the cocktail conversation has ended

Long after the clichés and stereotypes have left

And the deadline’s been extended

Long after the déjà vu has worn away

And the evening’s reached stalemate

Long after the cigarette smoke turns to stench

And the kisses reach sell-by date

Long after the drive home is catatonic

And the tears have welled up to a storm

Long after the calls have been diverted

And the phone messages seem lukewarm

Long after then, the day breaks

And the cycle of monotony creeps in

You step out, you work your way through

As you continue to rage within.

Get Out

I love the poems. the rhymes

I love the wine, the wind chimes

And the laughter and the nostalgia

But excuse me,get out.

You have the nerves, the balls

You inundate me with words, calls

and your cajoling and coaxing

But excuse me,get out.

You're good but you know it

You're selfish and show it

You're reasonably weak, considerably meek

So excuse me, get out.

This Pretty World & its Petty Realities

It's a Pretty world

Pretty cruel, Pretty mean

You'll be beaten and won't feel it

You'll pass by unseen.

It's a Pretty world

Pretty shallow, Pretty hollow

You'll cave in and think you're on top

Finally you'll be solo

It's a Pretty world

Pretty uncool, Pretty tacky

You'll realize just a bit too late

That everything is so hackneyed.

The After-Thought

I am at the party

And then it happens

The question is asked

The answer is quick

Apt, Clever, Smile-evoking

Till I go home

And when i wash my face

It hits me

I should have said this instead of that

I should have, I should have

Damn! I should have

But then, the moment has passed

So has the line from my lips

And no matter how much I ponder

It's still an after-thought.