Thursday, 19 April 2018


The Bellowing of Trees
The Rustling of Leaves
The Bone Chilling Breeze
Infectious Maladies
Inscrutable Decrees
Negotiable Loyalties
Simulated Pleasantries
Unpleasant Memories
Forbidden Fantasies
Yeah, All of These

They Make Me Quiver...

Wednesday, 18 April 2018


Arnold tapped Julian on the shoulder, "They're all the same colour, son."

The five year old's face puckered, and he let his lower lip hang out to express his disappointment.

"Don't you have any other colours?", Arnold asked the kid from whom he was buying the paper.

"No Sir...just white...", the kid replied, in a voice that would convince the biggest sceptic, "...they don't make coloured paper with this thickness."

Arnold studied the sheet, trying to imagine what kind of plane they'd be able to make with it. "You sure this will fly a fair distance? I've never used such thick paper to make planes before?"

"I've been selling paper for more than a year now, Sir", he smiled, "Every day I sell paper to at least a hundred father-son duos like you. No one has ever complained so far."

Arnold looked in the direction of the path leading to the cliff once again, and saw hordes of fathers and their young toddlers doddling ahead at a leisurely pace. "How far is the cliff?"

"About 400 metres. It might take you about five minutes.", the eight year old said, almost as if reading from a script, "You simply stand with your son at the edge of the railing, make a wish in your mind, and throw the plane into the distance."

"Do you come here everyday?"

"Yes Sir. Many Fathers know about the cliff and the story surrounding this place. The Fathers know that if they made a wish for their sons and threw a paper plane down the cliff, their sons would surely make it big in life." 

Arnold smiled, "Thanks Kid...would you want to join us?"

"No Sir, I need to sell paper."

"What about you? Did your father ever throw paper planes for you too?"

"My father's dead Sir...he was dead even before I was born."

Arnold lowered his head in guilt, "I'm sorry kid".

"It's alright Sir. I might not have a Father to make me a plane...but I have my life planned out."

"Do you want me to throw a plane on your behalf?"

"Don't worry Sir", he insisted, "I have a plan."

Arnold smiled. He paid the boy and walked with his son towards the cliff.

Later that evening, when the crowds had dispersed, the paper boy went to the railing overlooking the cliff. He peered down and saw at least a thousand paper planes strewn along the face of the cliff. It was quite a sight to behold. After all, those were more than just paper planes - they were signs of Fathers' love for their sons, Fathers' dreams for their sons.

How ironical then it was, that the boy who had all the paper would never have a plane thrown for himself.

But he was a boy with a plan.

And so the boy with a plan climbed over the railings and went down the face of the cliff, to seek and collect planes that had not gone far enough.


Chinmay sat up in bed, his laptop perched on his lap. It was already well past 11 pm, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. It had been a tiring day at work, what with three back-to-back meetings (with no tangible outcomes, as always) and a less-than-perfect boss who needed more coaching than a trainee employee would. What's more, he had to come home and start writing a story for an online challenge that he was quite passionate about. He was sure this was going to be one of those long nights that he always dreaded.

Anjali turned towards him, lying on her side. "Darling ghost writer..."

Chinmay didn't shift his eyes from the screen, although he hadn't begun typing yet, "You do know that a ghost writer is someone who..."

"No...", she cut him off mid-way, "a ghost writer is actually someone who sits up at unearthly hours to write silly stuff."

"I'm out of ideas babe...I seriously don't know what to write about."

"How about Omni vans?", she teased him, placing a hand in his lap, and playfully letting her fingers run in and around his crotch. His boxer shorts offered very feeble resistance.

But Chinmay firmly held his ground..."Omni vans? Bah!"

"How about Oligopoly? Economics?", she let her hand creep in from under the hem of his shorts. She then cupped his gonads with her soft hand.

He still didn't budge. "Booorrrinnnggg". The verdict was loud and clear.

But Anjali wasn't going to give up without a fight. "How about this word...Omerta?" She then squeezed his nuts without warning.

For the first time, he took his eyes off the screen. " you're talking bitch...aargh..." He had least expected her to turn the tide in her favour with one quick move.

"Omen?", she purred like a cat, feeling him grow quickly in her hand.

"Aaah...yessss!", he said, and then simply moaned as she held his shaft firmly in her hand and rubbed it harder than Alladin would rub his magic lamp.

"The Occult", she was now ready to knock him out senseless. The stroking got more intense.

"Aaargh....ohh...aah...I'm gonna cum", he dropped his laptop on the bed and lay down, waiting for the climax to unfold and for an explosion of happiness to happen any moment now.

She stroked his manhood faster and faster, sensing it throb like an animal fighting for dear life. She knew the battle had finally been won when he let out a loud moan and squirmed his body violently, only to settle down motionless after a few seconds. Of course, the biggest giveaway had been the jizz that popped out, some of it into her hands, most of it onto the freshly dry-cleaned bed sheets.

Having decided that it was now her turn to experience the O-Zone, she turned to him once again and said in a seductive tone, "Hey...why don't you write about Orga..."

"zzzzzzz", he snored, as if he had been sleeping for hours on end.

Watch out for the next post...P for Premature Ejaculation!

Hahahaha...just kidding! 😛 

Monday, 16 April 2018


Once upon a time, there was a lady who had a hundred sons - 40 of them had golden hair, 40 had green eyes, and the rest of them always wore white garbs. They lived in a beautiful house that had the ocean on three sides and tall mountains on the north. The house had many rooms and afforded enough space for everyone. The neighbours would always look at it from a distance and go green with envy. It was truly a house built by the Gods, and therefore it was called Paradise.

Like any other normal family, this family too was never perfect. The stronger sons would suppress the weaker ones and take more than what was rightfully theirs. The weak would stay meek and submissive. Also, there were many occasions and reasons for the sons to jostle and tussle with each other. Overall, however, everyone assumed their own roles and lived together peacefully.

Some years down the line, a tenant came to live with the lady and her sons. He brought with him promises of everlasting friendship and a bright future. Therefore, the lady and her sons welcomed him with open arms. Alas, the tenant's promises turned out to be hollow, and his intentions malicious. Over time, he managed to gain the trust of all the sons. Taking advantage of the conflict between some of the brothers and the widening gap between the strong and the weak, he began to meddle in the family's personal affairs and to instigate brother against brother. He did all this for his personal profit, and also to make sure that he was able to overstay his welcome in the house. He would also steal articles from the house and send them back to his own family in a land far away. Very soon, the house that once was known as heaven on earth lost all its sheen and glory, and neighbours no longer thought much of it.

When some of the wiser brothers realised how the tenant was slowly ravaging their house, they decided to inspire the entire family to work together and drive the tenant out of their house. It took them months to convince all their other brothers that the tenant was evil and that he needed to go. It was a tough task, considering the fact that the stronger brothers were on the side of he tenant; but eventually better sense prevailed, and the tenant was asked to leave. Happy times were about to dawn on the house and its occupants once again.

However, tragedy struck once again. Some of the Greeneyed brothers, although not all of them, who felt that they were being denied adequate space in the house and adequate rights and powers demanded that the house be divided into two, and one half be given to them. This demand led to a massive conflict with the golden hairs and many were hurt. Eventually, tired of the violence, and with a heavy heart, the mother decided to allow some of her sons to take half of the house and build a wall in between. On a bright note, there were some green eyes who decided to stay back and help the family tide over the crisis. Although the partition was painful and brought with it a wave of death and suffering, the internal tensions and strife among the brothers eventually seemed to have died out.

The ones who left called themselves Green Acres. Their undivided brothers, however, kept the name of their part of the house unchanged - Paradise.

Slowly, but surely, peace returned, at least to the undivided part of the house. The brothers in the undivided part of the house, put aside their differences and strengthened the walls of their house. As a matter of fact, the golden hairs, the green eyes and the white garbs learnt to ignore their weaknesses and to channelise each others strengths to bring peace and prosperity to their side of the house, much to the dismay and envy of their estranged brothers on the other side of the house. They became so prosperous, that even the estranged brothers often got tempted to emulate them and bring peace and prosperity to their side as well.

Alas, after many years, bad times returned to the household once again. A handful of the Goldenhairs thought that since they were in majority, it was they alone who deserved to have the exclusive right to make decisions in the house and also an exclusive right o the house and all its amenities. They said that since the green eyes had already received their share in the property, the rest of the house rightfully belonged to them. They renamed their side of the house 'Sunehriya'. What's more, they asked the green eyes in their side of the house to cross over to the other side and labelled the Whitegarbs as aliens.

So, here are a few points to ponder on:-
  • Did Paradise belong only to the Goldenhairs and the Greeneyes? If yes, then what about the Whitegarbs? What is their fault in this conflict, and where are they to go?
  • If the residents of Green Acres ended up living a life worse off than that in Paradise, then surely there was something that Paradise had done right and something that Green Acres did wrong. Does it then make sense at all for those in Paradise to seek to emulate the thoughts and actions of their estranged brothers from Green Acres, who by the way, clearly failed?
  • If in case a handful of the Goldenhairs think they need space for themselves, maybe they ought to leave rather than ask others to leave, no?

Sunday, 15 April 2018


Paint Your Lips
Darken Your Eyes
Dazzle The Crowd
With Your Stunning Disguise
Dangle Your Ear-Rings
Curl Up Your Hair
Blush Up Your Cheeks
Like a Torrid Affair

Flatter Your Neckline
Let It Nosedive
Have Them Believe
That You're Just Twenty Five
Slip On Your High Heels
Colour Your Nails
Perk Up Your Bosom
And Topple The Scales

Then Go Ahead
And Mask All Your 'Flaws'
And Soak Up All
The Frenzied Applause
And When They Ask You
Who You're Trying To Impress
Tell Them The Truth
That It's Just For Yourself

I take this opportunity to thank Smitha Deepak for allowing me to use her beautiful image to add value to my poem. San Francisco-based Smitha has been a freelance makeup artist for 15 years. Apart from makeup, Smitha is passionate about art, having started painting at the tender age of three. She cites her dad as her inspiration when it comes to art. Smitha's work can be found on her website and her Instagram handle is

Friday, 13 April 2018


Elegantly Charted
Gently Parted

Soft and Curved
Well Reserved

Pinched and Pursed
I Fervently Thirst

Clamped and Sealed
Our Truths Concealed

I Read Your Lips
I Read Them Well...

A big thank you to Mysore-based Sangeetha Alwar for allowing me to use her image with my poem tonight. Sangeetha is a 23 year old professor of English literature. When she's not teaching critical theory or linguistics to a bunch of nineteen year olds, she spends her time doodling on every piece of paper she can find, or nestled on a comfy chair with a book and a cuppa strong coffee. Apart from being an avid reader and an enthusiastic artist, she's also an amateur poet and photographer. Her poetry has been published by Muse India on their online journal. Follow the super-talented Sangeetha on Instagram at

Please feel free to leave comments. You could leave a comment irrespective of whether or not you liked what you read. It's a great way to start a conversation or a dialogue. Most importantly, it helps me get better.

Thursday, 12 April 2018


Last week, Bollywood superstar Salman Khan was finally sentenced to five years imprisonment for a 20-year old blackbuck poaching case. Thankfully (for Bhai's fans), he was let out on bail even before he could ask for copies of holy scriptures to read in prison. Seems Karma is usually a bitch for normal people like you and me, but is an obedient driver for Bhai.

News of his bail led to massive applause from Salman fans, and a huge outcry from law-abiding citizens. While his supporters felt that justice had finally prevailed, the others (not me, I swear!) were left bemoaning yet another instance of the rich and famous geting away rather cheaply.

Detractors (including Vivek Oberoi) would have preferred to see Sallu being treated like a normal citizen and being held captive in a cell. Yet, it seems Sallu fans have listed some reasons why he deserved a bail. Of course, as always, these have been procured from reliable sources, but please believe them at your own risk.

Here are the reasons why Salman 'Tiger Bail Per Hai' Khan deserved bail:-

Bhai Was Bound By Contract
At the time, Sallu Bhai was working on the movie 'Hum Saath Saath Hain' in Jodhpur. As per the contract he signed with Rajshri Productions, he was supposed to be 'shooting' in Jodhpur.

Someone Told Bhai That The Blackbuck's Name Was Chedi Singh
Rumour has it that Bhai was then reading the script to Dabanng, and that some wisecrack told him that the blackbuck's name was Chedi Singh. "Hum tum mein itne ched karenge ki confuse ho jaoge ki saans kahan se le aur paadein kahan se." Get it? Rumour also has it that someone told him that the blackbuck's name was Vivek.

Bhai Misread The Situation
Apparently, a tourist guide told Sallu that blackbucks were an endangered species. Bhai (being highly educated) thought he was the one in danger.

Bhai Did It In National Interest
Salman was only doing his duty as a Desh-Premi by attacking Kaala Dhan. What? Black Buck, Black Money...same thing na?

It Was Suicide
Bhai didn't kill the blackbuck. The blackbuck asked Bhai to adopt it, and he (politely) refused, because limited carpet area in his apartment and shit. The Result? Such dejection...much suicide! Or maybe Bhai sang a song or something...same response, suicide.

Now? After All These Years?
Bhai's detractors say justice delayed is justice denied. Bhai's supporters say the kith and kin of the dead blackuck might all be dead too. So what's the point?

Six reasons fellas! Six! There are many more, but it was hard to keep listening to Sallu fans.

You got any more reasons? Add them to in the comments section.

Image courtesy: