Celestial Bias

O ye wicked, wicked God.
To some you gave the likes of
Yana, Katrina, Kalki, and J Lo
to have fun and frolic with.
Yet others, you left to drool!!!

P.S. The self-righteous can click http://www.kingfishercalendar.com/2011/

An ode to the ingenious mallu and his vibrant mundu

No secret crannies, no buttons,
No zippers, no accessories to hold it up,
All it takes is a deft knot to prevent goof ups.
From pole to pole, earth to mars,
And on moon during the brief stopovers,
Who can ignore the mundu clad mallu,
His steamy brew and yummy thattu kada.

A sound stretch

At times, a good stretch and a loud fart can do wonders to your sagging spirits.

Unlamented

A few years back, I witnessed a funeral service that was slightly different in nature. The family of the deceased just wanted to get rid of the body as quickly as possible. Even the ashes were scattered inside the crematory compound, after the cremation. The cause? because she died of a disease that is feared and looked down upon by the society. When fear pays a visit, reason leaves. I am no exception.

The dead tell no tales, so I didn’t get to know her side of the story. But I was told that she had got it (the disease that killed her) as a wedding gift from her husband who had departed for the shores of eternity a bit earlier.

The funeral (if one can call it that) affected me deeply; a few days after the incident I wrote this to vent my feelings.

Lifeless and cold her body lies,
on the crematorium’s mosaic floor,
they have scorned her in death,
for she died of the wrong disease.

Afraid to mourn her death,
as truth invites ostracism,
from a society sans compassion,
for she died of the wrong disease.

No one by her casket,
no parting kisses, no farewell tears,
no one to bid her adieu,
for she died of the wrong disease.

Much loved as a daughter,
and a caring sister she was,
now they even scorn her ashes,
for she died of the wrong disease.

The kiss of death from her other half,
was her only gift on her wedding night,
now her body lies cold and all alone ,
for she died of the wrong disease.

Up there from the divine realm,
she looks down at them and smiles,
she was not denied acceptance there,
for dying of the wrong disease.

...a touch of shine

After more than nine years of living together, my wife wanted me to write something for her. The way I used to, during our days of courtship. Though I wanted to tell her that everyday was a poem, I curbed my instinct. For she would never have believed me. So I decided to write one, inspite of the difficulty it posed…

I kept the chaos and din at bay.
To pen a few lines sweet,
for someone who is,
quite near to my heart.
But, all I could write,
for my sweetheart,
were these old, and
often quoted lines,
“I love you with all my heart.”

Covert love

Love is eternal; agreed. But I am sure that everyone believes in the adage that familiarity breeds contempt too. So why not spice it up with a bit of variety?

My emotions are shackled to circumstances,
and weighed down by obligations.
From you I’ve masked the truth,
for I can never be true to thee.

In lies I’ve crafted this union,
to be as close as can be.
Can’t bear to be apart,
but I can never be true to thee.

Platonic love is for philosophers,
as existence to the physical relates.
But a philosopher I pretend to be,
for I can never be true to thee.

I bask in the warmth of your passion;
savour the taste of your taunt breasts.
I can feel the heat of your breath,
but I can never be true to thee.

As the wheel of time turns,
all I get are just fleeting moments.
Now despair engulfs me,
for I can never be true to thee.

I offer nothing but ambiguity,
engineered by human chemistry.
Let's meet as often as we can,
but remember, I can never be true to thee.

It's all in the flesh

Once bitten, twice shy. Twice bitten...what next? The heart is a fool; it keeps on repeating the same mistakes – twice, thrice, on and on. But, as Lord Alfred Tennyson said: “tis better to have screwed and lost than never to have screwed at all.” (I've added a slight twist to Lord Tenny's verse.)

20 per cent of emotional compatibility and 80 per cent of harmony in fornication is what constitutes a successful relationship.

A normal romance it was,but,
it bloomed at the wrong time.
Craving to break-free of constraints,
but is committed to another.

Cannot celebrate love,
drenched in others tears.
Happiness withers away when,
nurtured in others sorrow.

Blind love is rash, so lets,
temper it with caution.
And to be close, let’s,
to the world be discreet.

The world lauds love,
but scorn lovers.
It accepts love,
only on its terms.

Let’s not be cynical,
though impulsive it was.
Let’s celebrate love
and get on with our lives.

In quest of a chum

Firmly on the path of recovery; was invited to a graduation ceremony. It was a welcome change and indeed a pleasure to be in the midst of beautiful women. Came back reluctantly, had a bottle of beer or two and sat down to write…

Warm, lively evening and a naughty mind
to flirt around a bit I went.
But then strange are ways of fate,
pleasant surprises are always its forte.

Joy, vivacity and enthusiasm I saw
young, bright and happy faces too.
Brimming with unbridled energy,
made that spectacular evening a rarity.

I went back a saner man;
Content at heart and in spirits.
The lady with the lamp,
had touched me too… a little differently but.

Divorce

Went through a period of divorce; by the time we were separate, there were three of us.One melancholic afternoon, I put my thoughts on the paper.

Pain of seperation

Empty days, lonely nights;
blurred mind, pointless thoughts.
Broken dreams, wasted lives,
time gallops, considers none.

Selfish motives, senseless beings;
shatter lives, of hapless souls.
Ego resides, in love’s abode;
pride rules where affection abound.

A new life, an innocent soul;
molded in love, is nurtured in hate.
Mature minds, destroy budding life;
virtue decays, vice thrives

Did you know?

You turn me on,
with a mere touch.
And excite me constantly,
with your sensual taps.
Our trysts often last,
long into the cool nights.
A privy to many truths,
I expose nothing.
And reveal only those,
which you deeply desire.
I am your constant support,
your loyal companion.
Let's make this union,
a lasting one.
Go easy on me,
I am your Laptop.

Wrote this for a client; the brief was to come up with something that would encourage the employees to take better care of the laptops given to them. But the idea was shelved as my agency thought the composition was raunchy. For some, the mere mention of intimacy is taboo.