Wednesday, 24 March 2010

Redirecting you

If the previous post couldn't bring you to, I hope this will. :D

It's a blog we have created to share what we love doing, writing. Hope to see you there.

Sunday, 7 March 2010

Hello people

I love my blog, though I've not written much over the past few days..

Ok, so I've moved to wordpress.. it's a joint thing between abhishek and I. So please go to and feel free to comment, like or love any post you want.

All suggestions are welcome...

Monday, 15 February 2010


I am a candle wick, bound inside the wax
Packaged in golden paper, I’d shine a shimmering shine
One day, I passed from his hands to hers
That heat, the melting wax, and the wine

She held me, admired, and put me away
The dust couldn’t get to me, nor could the breeze
One evening I came out, in his hands, on her bedside
I watched the bed sheet form a crease

I burnt for the very first time that special day
A bright red burn, as the wax held me tight
Air and oxygen seemed to elude me for some reason
The flame although the brightest, couldn’t burn away the night

Three years passed, the wax began to wane
She met him twice a year, or maybe thrice
Yet, I felt stronger, I felt the wax losing grip of me
Despite being a paler orange, I could now even scorch ice

The waning wax today just holds on to my feet,
After six years of their laughter, tears and tests
And although, I’m still shackled down below
I’ve grown a burn of blue, colour so calm, yet the hottest

So I breathe easy now, and continue to burn
In colours of love, trust & desire; in his and her mind
All phases of red, orange and the peaceful blue they’ll easily pass
Did I mention I was colour blind?

Saturday, 9 January 2010

The Three Idiots

Whenever the Dons struck, millions trembled
Each of the three had a distinct style
The Bong, the English, and the Hindi
Extremely evil, and supremely guile

With territories, poop scented and marked out
Their wolf lineage was still quite strong
The crafty three would often look up and howl
Their methods were never the opposite of wrong

The Bong don had the loudest of the voices
Heard by even those in the English and Hindi kingdoms
Having migrated to the Ganga basin, from his wolf ancestors
He relished the chicken-rice, and the daily beer and rum

The English don having evolved right at the beginning
Over the eon had grown quite refined and sophisticated
But that still did not stop the ‘culturally superior’ don
From his practice of getting rid of the aged

The Hindi don was the most menacing of all
A clever attacker, very furtive and underhanded
His voice crude, and a character rather boorish
His outfits were however, all expensive and branded

But each of the dons had one distinct character like I said
Exemplifying how evolution can play mayhem
Preserving the weirdest of genes of the wolf relatives
These three traits surely were very lame

The Bong don would sniff his supporters’ asses
While the Hindi don would eat away all the poop
The English don had the weirdest trait of all
Humping almost every member of his group

Now every year there was a battle and a brawl
The three would try to expand their territories
So millions gathered twenty sixth Jan that year too
To witness what would definitely be an epic story

The Bong, and the English, were in the very first battle
It lasted some long, painful seven days
The lazy bong with his fat beer belly and his nose blocked
Was wounded in more than a thousand ways

Gha! Gha!’ screamed the bong don’s supporters
referring to his innumerable wounds in Bong language
‘Retire hurt sir, or you’ll get killed for sure
Let the Hindi don now take to the stage’

So the next battle ensued, between the English and Hindi
The longest of the battles, as history would tell
Bhau bhai! Maaro bhau bhai!” cheered the Hindi don supporters
“eat away your poop, confuse his sense of smell”

The English don was losing, and losing it real quick
He tried the one last trick he had up his canid sleeves
Managing to get hold of the Hindi don’s backside
He humped him to subdue, but slipped on some wet leaves

While down, and flat, the Hindi don clawed at his face
The English tongue got split, the Hindi don mocked
“Who’s your real daddy now, hahahaha!!”
The English don supporters were now fully shocked

Woof! Woof! Woof!” said the English don
Meaning to say that the wolf would always be his real dad
The ‘L’ in the 'wolf' that he missed out that day
Is crucial to how they sound to you, me and that other lad

All the days of the battle, the three were totally oblivious
To humans who spied on them from a distance
The same humans now on the path of their domestication rampage
Starting to intimidate all creatures with their presence

So to each of us humans, the same bark sounds different
Have you ever let your grey cells wonder why?
A cat does meow-meow in probably all languages
But why the discrepancy about a dog’s bark, has been a total bheja fry

A dog says ‘woof-woof’ in the English language,
But 'bhow-bhow' in Hindi and 'gheu-gheu' in Bong
The way the respective dogs sounded during the battle is the answer
‘Gha, Bhau bhai and Woof’ , all evidences sufficiently strong.

Inspiration: Gautam sir's question while I was giving my major project proposal presentation at Wildlife Institute of India... it just got me thinking

The evolution mentioned here has no scientific basis.

Saturday, 2 January 2010


Twelve red ones, rich, full and just right

the twigs cut, thorns removed

deft hands tie them in a bunch; the last one; for her

She’ll never get them, but still they’re made

unsurpassed beauty they hold

beauty, sure to wither away with the distance

It’s the day, when lovers love, others try

a bunch falls short, a ‘voice’ pleads

but this was for her, how would he part

He hands it over, the ‘voice’ is ecstatic

did he do her wrong, the only gift for her?

saddened he returns to his den

His eyes catch a red; untouched, yet thornless

the richest; the fullest; the brightest

The best still lay there, waiting, for him to give to her