A possible preface


I realised myself to be the righteous apostle of the record book keeping when I was sitting by the fire and listening to the two bards ranting to the crowd about how right their independent versions were and realised that the version my own father told, was rather entirely different. I trusted my father, because the old time scar was ogling at me from his collarbone​ each time I was addressing him. I was a relative pacifist and let the former both, keep their argument burning up. Very soon I found myself peeking up the porch of the monastery from day to day and eventually the prefect archivist pulled me up and invited me to learn reading and writing. And I’m glad that I wasn’t born a lady or believe me in our kingdom, at our times- it’s rare they’re getting any chance to get out of their “lady” activities like games of croquet, ball dancing, designer gardening and other art, sewing- basically enjoying their lives and do as their wild wishes tell.

Since then into my youth I spent days and nigths reading and rereading the archives and records of this and even number of other churches. When I couldn’t find more, my father didn’t approve of me going away for too far, because I was just 14 back then and didn’t perfect my bow and arrows skills enough to embark on such a journey alone. He didn’t have enough faith driving him to accompany me on my undertaking, I walked into a library. It seemed as if a heaven touched my rusty robes, made me unaware of any sort of unease including them and embraced me with it’s open arms absorbing me into an abysmal depths of historical and fictional texts and smells. That is when I realised that writing and preferably the truth were the two most important things in the world of my perception.

By the time I turned 16 and by the same time- the already Grand Archivist, came down to bless me personally from the Great Church of Uptown, while I was initiating something unbelievably surreal and important with my volunteering to serve in the defence tower operating the turrets of the guards of our kingdom- Pacifia. It was a relatively sought after position within the hierarchy of the armed forces of our then king Le Mustachie III and it was all thanks to Grand Archivist who recommended me over a crust of bread. It was less hectic a service than that of the foot soldiers and less glorified than the cavalry, but meant a lot of travel and sitting which were just perfect for my soulful orientation.

Days started flying by and my duty shuffled me among the towers, towns, crossroads all across the lands… By 22 I read every book in the cities that my towers guarded and started writing down the records of my own and tallying them with those of the old man Grand Archivist to see, whether I kept everything up to date. Archibald Hansen, was his name and he loved to talk of the beastly lady fish like demons at sea. He appreciated my work but over the years of my absence I knew that he grew closer to his other apprentice Le Brix who was a son of an utterly wealthy nobleman who had a speck of devotion on the silver laden suit of his pompousness. He and the mistress managed to pass him that devotion before they met a terrible end by the hands of an unknown woods’ gang who robbed them off everything and their lives. He unfortunately witnessed all that and ran away with the Circus only to be recovered by our Grand Archie almost a decade later. Pretty easily convinced he learnt fast and by the time I ran out of books to read in our kingdom and started my own private archive keeping, he was already doing the same, but devotedly and had no problems with arranging the parchment​ or papyrus to waste. I on the other hand had to struggle through harbors and traders to scavenge the few I could afford.

It was all fine for a while, but pretty soon my fellow guards started utterly despising my erudition and consequently exiled me mentally from their acquaintance. I, very soon, noticed how fat I got reading all those piles of books and munching down our garrison food stocks and pretty much accepted others’ sedition towards this fact. In almost no time I started to get neglected and even sooner I was reassigned my position.

It seemed that they somehow got an approximate idea about my efforts and acknowledged the reference Grand Archie gave for me to the Marshal himself recommending my talents while conditioning Le Brix to follow in his holy steps of Church Archiving. I didn’t mind, rather got self- content from the fact that I might proudly keep records of the king’s army and experience the live action of every step they took. These were another few years before my career within the army abruptly got finished as Dissipati Peribunt, being the Marshal, lost his head to a better gentleman Bon Tu Pati somewhere around the tent I was scribbling in. The same day Le Mustachie the III and his nobility with the help of Prince Meinland the I’s cavalry, managed to crank their heads a wee bit way off their shoulders. The whole family, or what was left of it was brought out in their own bedsheets and sent to a respectful cremation by the edge pf the river. The times were noble and so were our neighbours.
Once again my writing​ prevailed and after reading the glorified records of the truth behind the unfortunate governing turmoil which uprooted the basics of the kingdom the new king himself declared to decide my fate. Archie and Brix didn’t get any sort of such judgement and my papa was parried away from all this unease by the holy angels of death. I’ve never told you about my mother, because from all I heard she wasn’t much of a story to tell about.

By the stories of papa she was an untimely smart lady from a humble family of a laundryman. She was courted briefly, but vigorously by him when he served with his life for her then employee- Count Un Fukwitablu and his nobility. It was around that time that my father experienced first hand the story those bards were lamenting about. In short the house fell poisoned and all of the commoners were dismissed of their posts. Following a series of useless months, old man got himself a ring and got her under the blessings of the cross. They miscarried my elder brother, but papa got a hire and was able to afford a healer and a roof over their head on outskirts of the capital. In a couple of years of relatively dull, but as per his words- turbulently romantic married existence they tried again. This time with even more care and support from local healers and two midwives my father unknowingly enjoyed her company for healthy nine months. He held her trembling hand when I saw them both for the first time together and cried knowing this will be the last, because an angel told me before they pulled me out. “The labor was tough…” was what they said while trying to explain the obvious.

I was tossed to our pious neighbour aunt Martha whom I’ve never met thereafter, but I’ve heard that she was in conveniently lactating at that time and didn’t mind another suckling offspring at her spare voluptuous tit. The last part was emphasised by papa every time he gratefully mentioned her and honestly, I thought the word explained something about volume till I came of age. Ever since, I always wondered, if there was something going on back then during my infant days. Papa subdued to grief a couple of years later and almost sold me to a Chinese trader once while he was dead drunk. Coming to senses he took an oath to upbring me right and did so in the house of the God. That’s pretty much how my future got secured.

Talking of future security- his noble highness Meinland decided to make my fate a court decision and scheduled a sitting a month into the new kingdom. They all sat down enjoying our land’s pears and some Chinaman’s dumblinks or whatever they called their whitened meatballs which I always reminded me of a bunch of scrota of some foreign beast and by the end of their meal decided to exile me to the last tower of their land. Now for those following this record- Pacifia became a taxable state of the kingdom of Nobilis and thus lost it’s boundaries and identity to the new king. I ended up at a God forgotten tower amidst the barren land with a waterfront at three sides and a strange, even more God forsaken road coming from the kingdom and headed towards the neighbouring kingdom of Rexnovis. Relations with this kingdom were so pacific that border security was taken for granted and neither of the states cared to check upon the welfare of the other even for periods as long as half a dozen years.

With a personal request from his Highness, I got carts of archives and writings coming and going over the next few years and I really enjoyed that as I rewrote all of them unto brand new leaflets. My life couldn’t be any better, but as always each garrison assigned to my tower always came back with a word of despise to king Meinland. All I did was just reading​ the texts without any harm to others, but it seemed that matured footsoldiers were mpre comfortable with utter displays of extraversion which wasn’t the case with me. This annoyed them terribly to an extent they started fearing me on pretext of sorcery.

I wasn’t a huge fan of liquor, but one of those days, glum about my situation with tower watchmen I walked into the nearest town, which happened to be on the ground of Rexnovis, but as I said- nobody even did as much as bat an eye on a foreigner. Seeing my morbid expression they even took our gleans as a payment. I got so drunk that the tavern returned whole 3 gleans and wished me to come to senses real fast and get some help or something like that before I tasted the ground of their stables, which unlike my expectations didn’t taste of horse excrement. That, most likely, wasn’t because they were being sincerely cleaned out, but because this town, just like my tower was- deserted. I don’t remember much of that day, just some guy running by my side- maybe even some scout, while I was making it to the tower and trying to explain that there was something wrong with his kingdom or mine, I don’t clearly remember, but I dismissed that as a dream and gulped down on it in the morning. The hangover hung over me for hours giving me a melodious torture of some eerie song they were singing at the tavern table across the border. The crew looked at me and I understood that they “just had enough of it all”.

After this nuisance on my part, garisson unease outgrew to an extent that Meinland rode his horse himself to cope with the situation. He arrived one early morning and I got to know about that as soon as the garisson got into a random melodious commotion and scattered trumpeteering building a unison along the way of it’s own harmony. In no time I was summoned from my room and he publicly proclaimed me to be further exiled to Rexnovis. While I stood halfpresent and bedazzled he dismissed his guards and held my shoulder saying- “You’re a great archivist Fatuus, but your conduct, howsoever rational it is to you and me, is creating a lame public’s unease… I want you to disappear for some time and thence I’m personally giving you a task to fulfill…”

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The Chances


At playing card factory, piles of cards- all prints, get sorted…
Still hot, they travel miles, to get to box they courted…

We tag defective our lives- a solitary Joker of a deck conforming…

A random draw- high fives, thus turns our lives heartwarming…
Getting that tightly packed, they smudge each others’ ink…

Those tinsy smears stacked, amend more than you think…

Some turn Hearts sweet, hurt spiky- Spades few prick…

Some Diamonds built with heat, some Club until they sick…
How lucky is thy draw, depends on how you perceive…

The monster that you saw, turns to lifeline you recieve…

You’re boxed in, solitary Joker, and yours are chances rare…

This draw game is like poker, each draw- a million dollar affair… 

What if…


What if at the end of the line, if we say no to “Is there anything that you want for what you’ll be willing to go through the hell all over again?” and therein lies our salvation?

What if in process described lies the sole purpose, the educational aim of meditation?

The neighbours’ greed

turnt conquistador…

The conquistador’s wrath

against one’s valour…

The rebel’s sloth

of neighbour’s neighbour…

The early murder

was in labour…

The glutonny of the free

turnt sinners into hoarders…

The feudal lust

grew up those country borders…

The current pride

lies in the strength of orders…

What if…

What if he asks & you say- “Yes, more?”

& therein lies punishment?

What if…

​The sweet essence of moment…


This one is for the depressed souls, those who spend their nights in sorrow and absolute stupor of their situation. The psychological wave is used first to conform and accept the situation and then to show an alternate beauty of the nature, which keeps our side through thick and through thin.

If there’s a difficulty in understanding the poem straight away, read odd lines and get the vision of nature, while if you’ll read the even ones- you’ll get the condition of the person in depression.


Sandwich’d layers top down skies…

One’s fed up with their hissing lies…

Ascend the staircase to stargaze…

Burn one’s eyes on that face…

Boiling, mighty Earth’s insides…

Fuming are one’s darkened eyes…

Brush’d the breeze through the green…

Burnt down- memories one’s seen…

Deadly pitch plack crouching fear…

Doomly thoughts one does wear…

Pounc’d & snapp’d lope’s pain…

Lies one crampled ball of vain…

Smooth melodious crackling bark…

Clenched lies one’s hair stark dark…

Fat burstin’ cheeks, holed in rodent…

One’s cheek- crimson pressed in dent…

Sweet smelling joyous dancing grass…

Veined out, one fails to cry out brass…

Sniff’d the air that sworn predator…

Beating, tearing up- this darn obliterator…

Swift & cautious pawed by lost soul…

Cramped, stiff, yet sobbing whole…

Hoot missed  that disappearing tail…

Still, lies one doubting one’s tale…

Turn’d the Earth, stifled beauty- Utopia…

Thoughts railed with chaotic Dystopia…

Calm’d are the starnights, calm’d the moonsight…

Calm’d now lies one mindless, child of the light…

Verbose at night


Lots of emotions + a vocabulary growing extinct day by day may lead to a creative envision of the events that can be visualized by an imaginative reader…

This is a first breach into this genre, I have no idea what effect will it have on you…

Please review…

A lady mind- centred foreplay erotica…


Verbose at Night…

Night of a Glance

 

My heart is full with love for you…
My eyes are full with gratitude
My feelings yearn for your attitude
But feelings’re tender things…
I think of you, I thank you
I wink at you, I thank you
Declared my love with heart on plate
I slipped, but I hope I ain’t late…
(My brave and lovely Sweetness, cat,
She’s sleeping on her lovely mat…)
My baby, baby- I will sleep…
For now, you listen-don’t be a creep!
(For I’m in love with curly hair…
And girl is fair, very fair…
Her wavy red sea all around,
Her wavy bosom.) “I’m on the ground
I see the stars, I see the eyes
But I fail more to fantasize…
My fingers weep for her lips a touch
Thank you so much, thank you so much…
Yes, maybe I am mad right now
But I am now, I’m very now!!!
‘She’s still afraid of both my eyes
That I’ll like her less than her disguise.
So I’ll look forward for her gaze…
She will amaze, she will amaze…’

‘Brave up, my heart, for we are trying…
Please, do it right- we’re not flying…’
I think of you, my eyes swell up…
My pounding heart- please, don’t screw up!!!
The thought just stays in all those curls…
All feelings, all like water whirls…
I see there maths and maths sees me…
My heart shouts out- cease me, cease me!
Those eyes, eyes of emerald are those…
I look at sun, I look up close…
Their blinding beauty finds me now…
I’m blinded, thus I ask-“Just how?”
Things, she claims she’s never heard…
Amazing, that had her, never stirred…
She feels afraid, yet warm at soul…
But all that fear makes her a ghoul…
Just understand he’s afraid too…
And she is too, and they’re too…
Of seven is afraid that two…
For it ate nine, but I won’t you…

(For those who get emotional a bit)

Sweetness, Sweetness, please don’t cry…
Look that’s dancing “chicken fry”…
What about that wrapping roll?
It grooves so bad to rock’n’roll…
Flying saucers, falling pans…
That’s how kitchen things are- they dance…
Clunck- a clunck they spring about…
Are you sane, damn,  are you sound?
Oh my God, my God- that a mess!!!
Oils, vinegars, sauces- on recess…
Cleaning up will be a  stress…
They’re shaking them legs no less…
My little curly mess right there…
Starts moving as if she doesn’t care…
She goes around and turns about…
With kitchen sink clapping, so sound…
Crazy wild girl and kitchen tools…
Prancing about the kitchen, like fools…
He walks inside and sees her that sad…
“Come dance with me!”- THAT’s very bad…
Chairs and table all vanish aside…
He’s lucky to have her by his side…
Now she is smiling all along…
His mission accomplished all so strong…

Night of Feather

To the lady with stars on her cheek…

(This pretty being have I seen…
Becoming hers I got so keen…
Has lots of thoughts up right her mind…
She all time catty, smiling, kind…
With emeraldy eyes at me she gazed…
With feelings’ coating soul my glazed…
She got entwined in all her thoughts…)
But I am there to connect the dots…
Fearless Sweetness, she turned mine…
Though that was not by my design…
Me becoming hers, she became mine…
Well, it sounds great and still goes fine…
(“Don’t get sexual!“- that’s what she said…
Yet, biting her lips, she lied in her bed…)
‘I went right on describing filth…
She imagined all, but felt her quilt…
I pushed the boundaries, controlled myself…
For her request, I ceased THAT self…
She went on saying, yes that’s right…
I had her then and I felt- might…’
She said: “No sex!“- yet dwelled ecstatic…
‘I felt her thighs and then it’s static…
Taming the beast, stopping right there…
It’s not just me, you too are there…
In my hands there is your hair…
Yet no kiss, all we do is stare…’
Don’t get sexual, yet please embrace!!!
That’s the most amazing maze…
Solving which I’ll pass my time…
Kissing you- committing crime…
Right I see the way she does pout…
An urge to have them in my mouth…
I can’t see things, a blurry vision…
To kiss or bite- a tough decision…
(He waits, he waits well past midnight…
And get a glimpse of her he might…
He thought he’ll catch her, then they’d kiss…
But to his left, in car left his miss…
His desperation growing old…
He yearns to feel, when her do hold…
Away with chivalry, away with thoughts…
He’ll have her then, with all the clothes…)
(She hopes, he’ll get the magic right…
To feel her, she’ll give him a green light…)
(He’ll cage his energy for feather’s touch…
He’ll give her things she’ll love so much…)
(She has her wings, but won’t let them spread…
Envisioning things all time in her bed:
She’ll see him climbing over her…
She’ll clutch him, make him own her…
She’s shy, she’s there right there in bed…
All kinds of things right there in head…)

(He can’t control, he can’t resist…
To find her soul, clenches her wrist…
Right on her, he falls all slightly…
His intentions she can’t take lightly…)
We can’t, no sex, no damn ways…
(With her legs she clings to embrace…
To get his mind, to help his mind…
She clings to him, so damn tight…
Her lips don’t leave his- tight embrace…
He truly, truly can’t feel his face…
With both his hands- he her head he takes…
He doesn’t care what is at stakes…
He pushes her head well deep in pillow…
Her fallen hair resembles a willow…
He licks her once as if she’s cream…
Then she wakes up- it was a dream…)

Night of a Touch

(She hides her mountains with them clouds…
Leaving all men die in doubts…
She hides the rocks right under waves…
He never knew he got one of them babes…)
(In rocking chair he rocks and types…
While his lady gets her shy vibes…
His mind right now, pounds and hypes…)
Why isn’t she from naked tribes…
(“Please stop, please stop!“- she says out loud…
But not for him, that’s all for crowd…
She craves and craves for each word that drops his lips…
That maybe he’ll kiss her with his hands on her hips…)
(She has that wink, she has that smile…
Her racy voice is heard from a mile…
She can seduce with “Mio  Amor…
He’ll let her in and shut the door…)
(What he’d have done if she was wild…
His efforts would’ve gone a mild…
For she’d done a lot of things, her own…
Forbidden things she would’ve shown…
The door is closed, the eyes wide shut…
The big bad wolf just blew the hut…
The huts-his head, the wolf is she…
With her on top that’s how sit we…
Right on his shoulders all her weight…
Get to the business thinking straight…
The warmth of thighs is turning on…
Look at her shyness all its gone…

(His head in hands they dance in stance…
That’s a tornado for a foreign glance…)
(He bends right forward holding her back…
Her butt- the table, with a smack…
He frees his head and behaves right…
Goes from the thighs up to her might…
His waist on hers that feelings warm…
What happens next is just a storm…)
(Her hairs’ on table, back’s her bent…
She kisses him, impacts a dent…
He holds her tight amidst her flight…
Their closeness feels perfect and right…
Her lips on his, she bends her neck…
Her hands go down… He’s:- “What the heck?”)
(That naughty- shy girl spreads her wings…
Now, she is doing crazy things…
His collar is clutched, neck is licked…
He was leading, but now feels tricked…
The raging monster to him she clings…
Back unto the wall their union springs…
The wall’s a cheat, it’s not right there…
He’s on the ground out of nowhere…
The fall left him out of the breath…
Breathtaking- that’s how she looks- a bet…)
(She takes his hands and leads the blind…
For things he might not ever find…
She says- “Be gentle!” Less she knew…)
(He was an artist- her he drew…
He drew on her like on canvas paper…
He felt her arms, like sticks- the draper…
His slightest touch left her like goose…
Hands at her back unhooking them loose…
After much time she gives him to lead…
He feels her up with no less greed…)
(Enlightened, she lifts her eyes to ceiling…
He touches her lips- she’s very willing…
She slides away her plans on tips…
He lifts her closer by her hips…
She looks at him with funny discontent…)
(He gets this- lady is crooked and bent…
With open palm he goes through hair…
Her skin so soft, babyish and fair…
His other hand on her back gets under…
Her skin, a touch is just a wonder…
He leaves her hair and gets tight pressed…
His interest got her impressed…)
(She backed him off and in a jest…
Removed her very skinny vest…
The boy astonished, mouth wide…
Is that adulthood by his side…
He meddles, waits, her to give a cue…
She sits like that for moments a few…
She saw him brave, but now he’s not…
She sees how helpless, shocked he got…
She then rewards him with a tight embrace…
And heard his heart in chest run race…)
(Two points of excitement pressed against his chest…
To interpret he does his best…
He feels her hands slight down his waist…
His shirt was pressed- oh what a waste…
Unbuttoned him like in that game…
He then got lucky- and for her- fame…
He sees them right and firm and tight…
Touch them as well he maybe might…
He feels all grateful, all again…
In her embrace he does that drain…
Her warmth against his jumping chest…
He feels her breast, yes that’s her breast…
He didn’t figure- the switch got on…
To give her he’s got feels a tonne…
His hands run free & wild and got behind…
What he did there is on your mind…
That’s hard to stop, high is the tension…
He longs for this moment’s extention…
His first encounter with a her life…
To catch his breath he had to strife…
He lifts her up and lay on ground…
To her body his mind is bound…
All he sees- switches a bunch…
He sucks her lips with upward hunch…
He leaves her lips and licks downtown…
He is her king, but where’s the crown?
His lips on left, on right- his magic…
Hard- soft, hard- soft, to make it tragic…
She kissed his head, he kissed her bosom…
And overall it feels so awesome…
He gets some teeth right on her nip…
She gets so high- a marijuana trip…
He’ll stop it there, let her think…
Next time at him when she’ll wink…
She will undress him-  and so will he…
His hands so gentle- where they should be…
They are free, this can be true…
Now she can think of things to do…)

 

4SJ

 

Please, tell me how this is…

Play Along


Can I see you later?!
Cuz now I am with her…
Baby gimme your number
Stay on Friday as you are…

We’re young & rave…
We jump & wave…
In this game…
That we are…

We crave & lust…
Love turned to dust…
Hurting, hurt…
That we are…

Baby, baby don’t reprimand…
Cuz I’m here on your demand!
If you see me on Friday night…
We’ll spend the night!
Well spent, a night!

It’s a game & we are players…
And the world is not as old
Don’t be crying…
Don’t stay in prayers…
Love will come, but for now, just play along!
Just play along!

If we went out
And spent a night…
That doesn’t mean
We’re in it all right?

We kiss & date…
No love & fate…
In this game…
That we are…

We don’t mind or stay…
We forget & play…
Hurting, hurt
That we are…

Baby, baby don’t think too much!!!
Neither of us, felt love, as such…
I’m scoring my next Friday night!
We spent tonight!
What’s your next Friday night?

It’s a game & we are players…
And the world is not as old
Don’t be crying…
Don’t stay in prayers…
Love will come, but for now, just play along!
Just play along!

(About current relationship trends)

Perks of Adulting


Oh dear, beautiful, jovial Child!
Please, do not grow up!
Do not get happy, when freckles show up…
Refrain from the yearning to do Adult things,
For they will chop down, cruelly- thy wings!

Oh dear, beautiful, jovial Child!
Happy, you are, on your own!
If you will Adult, you’ll be happy, as shown…
You fall unto thorns, take them out, forget,
But Adult once, in thy soul thorns will set!

Oh dear, beautiful, jovial Child!
You, only you are the one who can love!
Once you mature, empty feelings they’ll shove
And you’ll be sitting in empty a room
With Emptiness by thy side, facing thy doom!

Oh dear, beautiful, jovial Child!
Don’t hide in the closet, don’t hide under bed!
Perpetual fear is on what Adult is fed…
There is no way out, for Adult is a ghoul…
Thy only safe house is in depth of thy soul!

Oh dear, beautiful, jovial Child!
I beg you, don’t die, however they try!
Get stronger, get childish, wipe your cheeks dry,
Be stupidly brave, face this heinous cult
Please, don’t let me Adult!
Please, don’t let me Adult!

(Yes, you’re right I just used word Adult as a verb, noun and adjective)

Weird Pathology


This song (bard) is written in Hinglish (first time ever by me), so will be relatable to all Hindi+ English speaking people:

“Bachpan ki meri dost- badi yaari hain bhai!
We have each other’s back, right until we die!”
Samay beeta zara, a bit we drew apart!
“Tu usse baat kari!”- (some problem’s in my heart!)

Bagal- tera kandha, honthon pe teri- smile…
(I don’t wanna see him around you for a mile!)
Bachpan ki meri friend, bachpan ka mera ride,
(He’s “dove-ing” her right there),- “My trying’s bonfide…”

“Tujhe kya ho gaya- as if you got a dent?
Please, tell me if he’s good- you’re my best friend!”
Uski baatein sunani- all the way she went…
(She’s more than my friend. How to drop a hint?)

Ye dono- boy & girl- badi ajeeb hain life!
Together & apart, hotey hain ye drive!
You watch them all along- samajh na aawe, haye…
Idhar- udhar ghumein, kyu dikhtey hain ye “high”?

It’s a weird pathology…
It’s a weird pathology…

“Bachpan ka meri dost- badi yaari hain bhai!
We have each other’s back, right until we die!”
Samay beeta zara, a bit we drew apart!
“Tera friend hain bada cute, uspe hain mera heart!”

Bagal- mera kandha, honthon pe meri- smile…
(Ho use kya gaya, why is he tailing for a mile?)
Saath hain mera banda, bachpan ka mera ride,
(Wo hume ghuma rha. This love ain’t bonafide)

(You love me, I’m right and that is the dent
I know he’s no good, because you’re my best friend!)
Uski baatein sunani- all the way I went…
(I’m ready and afraid- please, drop me a hint!)

Ye dono- boy & girl- badi ajeeb hain life!
Together & apart, hotey hain ye drive!
You watch them all along- samajh na aawe, haye…
Idhar- udhar ghumein, kyu dikhtey hain ye “high”?

It’s a weird pathology…
It’s a weird pathology…

A sound evening Crush


“Fairy tale, fairy tale & cartoon life…

I’m the Prince, you’ll be my wife…

La-la-la, la-la-la- they show no strife…

La-la trough!- there goes your life…

Three hours ago I was in town…
And now I feel alone…
That girl- that girl, in that gown…
Now I feel as if reborn…

Like a chute- like a chute, her dress I found…
Look at her- and your mind flies…
But gives no chance to get off ground…
Don’t compliment me!“…- those are lies…

To the left- to the right, now turned around…
I swear, by her side- a Unicorn…

And her heels, make, that hoof sound…

She was there and now she’s gone…

“Fairy tale, fairy tale & cartoon life…

I’m the Prince, you’ll be my wife…

La-la-la, la-la-la- they show no strife…

La-la trough!- there goes your life…

“Where is she- the sweet Unknown?
You appear, change- quite a time…
I’ll see a new and you’ll be gone…
But till then we’re fine…”

Through the Day, through the night…
She is by my side…
We dance and sing… Till there’s light
Though that happens in my mind…

“Sometime from now, when I’ll be alone…
And she’ll be in the sky…
With eyes closed I’ll see the storm…
To the sorrow, say- “Good bye!”

“Fairy tale, fairy tale & cartoon life…

I’m the Prince, you’ll be my wife…

La-la-la, la-la-la- they show no strife…

La-la trough!- there goes your life…”

Breaking Free…


Separating them both...
Separating them both…

Sleepless nights…
Oh- oh!
Soul denies…
Oh- oh!
Wet my eyes…
A wee
Blind my eyes…
But everything I see

The other guy,
took all…
Tore away,
my soul…
But all along,
I knew…
Still I forgot my “faith” in you…

Burn me all,
your talk…
Cold as ice,
your walk…
Shattered heart,
but your good bye hand…
Said:- “Crush it more, into the sand!”

Getting over with you left my heart wide open…
But now I know what I got to do…
Walk up to you,
                  grab your sight,
                           and with my mouth broken:
“Oh, baby, any more- I don’t love you!”

Sleep a bit…
Oh- oh!
Work a bit…
Oh- oh!
Colours around,
all gone…
I see you already,
moved on…

Secrets shared,
Unto the grave…
If you told me,
Once been brave…
You could’ve spared,
All my pain…
Now I see you’ve changed and I talk in vain…

It’s high time,
I mustn’t stop…
“Spare that dime,
Not a word you drop!
Forget about her,
Suit up and walk away…
Oh man, it’s time to walk up and say:- ‘Hey!'”

Getting over with you left my heart wide open…
But now I know what I got to do…
Walk up to you,
              grab your sight,
                       and with my mouth broken:
“Oh, baby, any more- I don’t love you!”

Love of my life…


Hey lady, hey lady, hey lady, hey lady…
I am ready, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready…
Let’s dance tonight… tonight… tonight…
Let’s dance tonight…
Oh, love of my life…

I see you, not far off, in that dress, with blue strands…
And I feel like heaven, descended and I am in trance…
Oh- oh- and I am in trance…
Through all this turmoil and my drunk big heavy head…
Blinding my eyes. my star is right there ahead…

Oh Tulip, oh Dahlia, oh Lily, oh Chrysanthemum…
My lady ‘s, no flower, but thanks to her Mom…
Drinking her gaze, makes me drunk even more…
But looking at you, my eyes, can never go sore…

Hey lady, hey lady, hey lady, hey lady…
I am ready, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready…
Let’s dance tonight… tonight… tonight…
Let’s dance tonight…
Oh, love of my life…

My eyes, wide open, as if it’s for first time…
To say that to you, oh you, will be a crime…
Oh- oh- worst crime…
It’s crystal, today, but I feel, way back in time…
That finger, tells me, that love values no time…

My left hand- your waist, my right hand- your hand…
We freeze, hands raised, you twirl, I stand…
I cannot resist, I hold my breath and you so tight…
With your heart beside, I feel so light…

Hey lady, hey lady, hey lady, hey lady…
I am ready, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready…
Let’s dance tonight… tonight… tonight…
Let’s dance tonight…
Oh, love of my life…

Deep thoughts for Your Birthday


Your eyes are closed…
Your lips froze in pout…
One candle gets dozed…
And everyone gets loud…
Calling mother from the cradle…
Wooden horse and on it’s saddle…
Running to school with such a zest…
Becoming older, becoming best…
I thought I’d write for you even more…
But cake I see and my eyes sore…
And well my battery is five percent…
Happy Birthday, my dear friend!!!