To sisters, with love

Got the Rakhis

And beautiful note as well

Thank you my darlings
That’s why this is my favorite festival

Physical distance never bothered you’ll

Our bonds are such
You guys make me so proud
Thank you very much

Through all the scuffs

And yelling and tiffs
Your affection and prayer
Outweigh any gifts
No diamonds, No glitter
No underlying plan
No way, my sisters, so humble
They just love me for who I am

They condemn those

Who put a price tag
On a relationship so sacred
One so pure and innocent
No room for malice or hatred

As the years roll by

We may get farther
More responsibilities, more chores
Less time for one and other
Just remember whatever happens
Whenever you’ll may sway
I’ll be there to look over
Ensuring that you’ll don’t go astray

I may not set the greatest example

May not be your best bet
But I promise I’ll try
And hope that you’ll never forget

I envy you guys

Much stronger than me
So calm, so composed
More than I could ever be

Thanks again for the gesture

Hope I receive them
Year after year
Was joking about the gifts
They will be ready the next time we meet
With a HUG and a KISS.

LIFE

Aint no peace
to be sought
Cause there aint no war
being fought

Crooning all day
drinking all night
In life you never win
cause there never was a fight

No gnashing jaws
no broken bones
Just punching walls
and punctured souls

The BUS

I make my way
through crowd and cattle
Shirt clinging
and brow dripping

I search my pockets
for the allowance
Required to pay for
my future conveyance

A green mahatma
stares at me
A sole survivor
dying to be set free

My tattered wealth
I hold on to safely
Waiting for her
my 21G

As finally she arrives
I jump aboard
and extend my arm
Mahatma will be mine no more

The minuscule man in Khaki
studies my note
and then me
and smiles nonchalantly

With a pat on the back
and a caring curse
He grabs me by the shoulder
and heaves me off the bus

Here my story
comes to an abrupt end
My marathon walk thereafter
is not interesting enough to pen

Unbearable, Ma'am!

Two classes she takes
back to back
Devouring our soul
a tasty snack

Screeching her way
through page after page
Painter of death
painting a new image

The clock has stopped
she has slowed down time
We tug at our hair and weep
she assumes we are fine

Even Iraqi torturers
follow the Geneva convention
She shrugs her shoulder
and continues the derivation

She jibes and laughs
None see her humour
She targets our brain
like a malignant tumour

Like thirsty nomads in the Sahara desert
we claw our way through dust and dirt
Barely surviving, we wander away
Pondering over what awaits us the next day.

Glabrous

Not so long ago, not too far away

A boy looked into his mirror

No signs of facial hair

To our bucks great horror

So he borrowed his father’s razor

Lathered his face up

Swung here and there and everywhere

Now that should change his luck

How could others have goatees

Soul patches and handlebars

And all he had to show

Was a face, now filled with scars

If there ever was a tooth fairy

There must be a beard troll

An expert in pogonotrophy

who plants hair whole

So deals were made

And sacrifices thought through

Today our boy sports a dashing French beard

With pride he flaunts it too

Only, our boy

Our embodiment of joy

For never once would guess

That the Lord in his infinite wisdom

Would replace his predicament with glabrousness

Therefore, be careful what you wish for

Reiterating the moral

To have hair and lost, is worse

Than to never had hair at all.

TIMES UP...

A trailer may never suffice

    In painting a complete picture

Of upcoming attractions

    And ever earnest endeavors

No revised drafts

    No critical reviews ensued

Just a pen and paper

    And this gibberish came through

A FORTUNE hung in the balance

   My Honour, paramount

But a word once given

    Will never be let down

I promise henceforth

    Some of my more polished work

Amateur attempts at prose and poetry

    For what it is worth

So look forward to more

    For now random musings should make do

My first actual post

    Without having a CLUE