The Last Slice

It’s the last hour of weekday.I am ready to unwind,“What’s the plan?”, flickers on my screen.I promptly type, “Care for a drink?”One turns onto two. Two to many.Now, hunger pangs roar as savvy restaurants are unkind.“All booked, All booked”, they cry.Last minuters like us are left high and dry.Big fast food names are a no-no.Kebab shops around here are so-so.Our eyes meet, our lips wet.“Is that what you have been thinking?”“You bet!”One Pepperoni and One Caramalised Onion are under attack.Our mutual love for Pizza, cannot be held back.“Go for it!”, he encourages me, eyeing the last slice.“Tomorrow?”, I succumb being sincere and nice.Suddenly, I remembered such last morning after.My annoyance at empty cartons was met with laughter.Now, I couldn’t let it happen twice.The great betrayal at the Last Slice.

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Buddha’s Crest

A fallen seed from the heaven,Are you frightened of getting dirty in the muddy waters?Hold your reins against those torrential currents and menancing pests.Others may bloom at the will of sweet sunshine,But only you will learn to breathe underwater.Blossom solitary.Unfluttering your pearly white petals,As the Buddha’s Crest.Blossom solitary.

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Child of Twilight

I stood firmly as a tree,witnessing a miraculous sight.To my left the sky was on fire,Burning deep yellows to orange brights.Consciousness at its peak, analysing this blissful time.To my right the sky was electric,Soothing deep indigo to silver ink blues.My sub conscious gently breaking into a melodic song.I stood firmly as a tree,witnessing a miraculous sight.An immersed whole me,The child […]

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My womb in agnst

Slam down the biological clock,Screaming at me tick tock, tick tock. Clomid, Metformins, that thirsty blood sucking syringe,Like it’s a past life revenge.Ensure a supply of Collagen and vitamins,Don’t you dream of a bottle of Heineken.Gluten free, high protein,Your unsolicited advice is truly bothering. Despair aligned to the moon waxing or waning,My wombs agnst is silently draining.Soaked bedsheets after nightfall,Awkward […]

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मृगजळ

(Continuing my series on Parks in cities. This one on Central Park) माया नगरी, माया बाजार,भांडवलशाही राज्यांचे हे सुवर्ण दार.काम नाही तर राम नाही,काम नाही तर राम नाही,शहराला या आराम नाही. तरीही, भाग्यवान मँहँटनकरांनाआहे एक हक्काचा हिरवा गालिचा,सामान्य माणसाच्या यादीत असतोCentral Park चा फेरफटका. भटकता भटकता दिसते, त्या एखाद्या गरीब बापड्याला,Park मधून डोकावणारे ते पंचतारांकित शहर.तेंव्हा चंमचंमणार्या त्या मंझिंलींचीही भिडते […]

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Alice in Wonderland

(Remembering my walk around Stanley Park, this time around last year) I walk hurriedly like the Mad Hatterbut with an air of a friendly West Coast jet-setter.Very determined, I open the Stanley Park map.A light grey sky cannot deter a Londoner armed with a rainy cap. The Lion Gate bridge adds to its glory as the theatrical sea planes fly […]

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A Weekend in Windermere

In a bright red kayak,bouncing upon the gentle waves of Windermere,flowing in a rhythm of two to two. On a thin wooden branch,swinging over the shore of Windermere,dancing in a rhythm of two to two. Up on my sturdy feet,climbing over the hills at Windermere,descending in a rhythm of two to two. On the narrow roads,driving amidst hues of green […]

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Time stops at Richmond Park

Underneath the floating clouds,drawing funny shapes in the air.We lay down aimlessly with an afternoon to spare.The Belfry of Petersham at distant,chimes sharp at three.The birdsong, the whizzing bees, orchestrating an afternoon melody.The grassblades whirling like dervishes,reveal that the Gods of Heaven have stopped time.A tummy full of chutney and brie, anda true partner in crime.

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A True Story

Streaming sailboats on the auburn horizon,a glorious day spent by the sea.Queueing up at the chippy for minutes, twenty.I polish that off with mushy peas, plenty. Now awaits the most awaited treat,“Make it the biggest scoop, please.”Licking away the delicious scoop,I stroll on the promenade merrily. Down come a gang of white feathers plump.With such precision, those rascals make me […]

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ते काय म्हणाले

कुणी म्हणाले, हे ग्रंथ पवित्र आहेतकुणी म्हणाले, छे! खरे तर त्या शब्दांत ताकद आहे. कुणी ओरडले, हे तर साक्षात महात्मा.कुणी ओरडले, छे! उपवास करूनच सापडले परमात्मा. कुणी म्हणाले, ही भूमी आपली जननी.कुणी म्हणाले, छे! हो… खरे तर मातापित्यांच्या जावे शरणी. कुणी प्रचाराच्या बाजारात झुंजले का?कुणी भुकंपाच्या कोपात भाजले का? दहशताची ठेच कुणी ऐकली का?भुकेची तळमळ कुणी जाणली का? आणी मी…मी […]

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