Some write less,
They think, polish, reset and test,
Finally when the soup just seems right,
It meets the salt lacking since time infinite,
...
The train breezed in slow,
I fell tumbled and rolled,
The platform turned green,
I looked up it was brimming with sheen,
...
The deserts may be a geological reality,
But to me they are a blessing in surreal calamity.
If there were no vast endless lands,
Where would I find a reflection of vacant ends?
...
When Tagore wrote about you,
I don't think he contemplated the woman that is you.
Borrowing from Nehru,
Such moments come but rarely in history,
...
It does not matter what I write.
The featus of love in me will breath as it likes.
What concern or cause does it matter,
On how you interpret what you and me Made to utter.
...
We see you everywhere,
On large bill boards,
Plastered on walls,
Hanging on poles,
...
There is one more season,
Its also called the Marriage season.
The stars, moon, sun and a couple of planets,
Sit over a drink and decide, watching a few box office balles,
...
I have an appointment to keep.
My Blackberry Beeps,
I have a presentation to tweet.
My Blackberry Beeps,
...
Eyes, you shut yours, I shut mine, what do we do about the light?
Names, you change yours, I change mine, what do we do about those we whisper in our minds?
Thoughts, you shut yours, I shut mine, what do we do about the soul that spans our times?
Pens, you write elegant, I write crude, what do we do when they meet in the same root?
...