Friday, 15 January 2016

A Seeming

That I am and that I am not is a seeming. Life is a seeming just like its partner, death.

Rosaline, sitting on the branch of a huge tree, was collecting the passing clouds. Though friends with the clouds, she didn’t like to see them at night, maybe because she also collected stars.

The day-night cycle confused her. Grandma’s solution “you’ll understand it once you become a big girl” didn’t help Rosaline at all. And so she started living in different worlds – the bright blue sky world, the mischievous cloudy world, the paper-boat rainy world, the sparkling starry world, the moon pie world, the ghostly pitch-black world... Two worlds sometimes merged into one and formed something unique.

Whichever world Rosaline was in, she was always excited to live it fully. Happily, she always announced early in the morning “today I’ll be in the mischievous cloudy world’ or ‘give way to Rosaline, the moon pie world awaits her.” Lost in her myriad worlds, she lived madly. She even recorded her visits to these wonderful worlds. She was proud to be the youngest and the oldest member of her family, youngest by age and oldest by the visits she made to these worlds. On her 92nd visit to the crunchy autumn leaves world, she died. She fell from a huge tree. Her last words were ‘Grandma you need to plus 22 more worlds to break my record’.


Monday, 11 January 2016

Mighty Nincompoops and a Prism

O group of mighty nincompoops
You’re using the lens against the sun to shine
But that’s fine
Guess it’s the trend in your coops

O gurus of fanaticism
You can butcher a man, not the idea of freedom
They say, “Shut-up and salute the tradition”
Something is missing in your brain… surely corpus callosum
“Talking smut? Go to another country or we’ll lock you for treason”

Locked in the prison for treason
A task planned definitely by a buffoon
Otherwise, why am I accused of ‘watching porn?’
When I am not even a minister or will not become one anytime soon?

I hang my head in shame for the ashamed are not ashamed
Shameless creatures rise, signing ties
But an American wig will not make you wise
Life is more than who gets to roll the dice

Eh just forget it all
As if anyone is listening at all

In the prison I have asked only for a prism
Just to show
How a soulful white light splits into a rainbow
But what difference does it makes for the colour blind?
Or a group of mighty nincompoops
Busy using the lens against the sun to shine
But that’s fine
Guess it’s the trend in their coops


Excerpts from the yet-to-be-written book – Unheard Voicemails

“If I have reached your voicemail, will my message also reach you… the message that was meant to be a talk… a conversation… will it be hea...