The Big Fat Indian Wedding doesnt work for me

I am not marriage material and hope never will be

For a truly haappy couple I am yet to see

And singlehood is my sanity, my will always freee

Its not that marriage is a terrible fumble

I just dont see the point to the whole gamble

Why have a bachelor bash before a wedding night

When every day can be a party in its own right

Kids I love and want my own some day

But marriage isnt necessary, I truth I say

Adoption is an option too that I like

Give a home to a crazy little tyke

The best alternative is still a dog, my own

A friend for life, who lick my worries till they are gone

Luckily the Dad seems to not care

The mother for now is fighting fair

But when the tears come and come they will

I might just swallow that bitter little pill

God save the Lady  that fate throws my way

Every single second, every minute of the day.


Now dont get excited you all, nothing is happening. But the mother has started making more noises than usual, as she always does  before a trip back to India. My trump cards are running out, and there was nothing else I felt like writing about so typeed this 😛


Love, Loss & Acceptance

So Shail has finally done something about that beautiful talent of hers. About time too. Am shamelessly plugging for her and will be doing quite a few times here forward (Get used to it).

Go but the book at

Its poetry and the good kind. Look at her blog if you dont believe me.

Love, Loss & Acceptance.


Love, Loss & Acceptance

No Free Lunches..

There are no free lunches in life’s long lanes..
Help comes at a price, often measured in pain..
Every stranger is a possible friend..
Most fraud, some true from above are send..

Friendships of convenience are all that exist today..
Ties that bind are broken, when truth has its final say..
We all pretend and smile as if nothing is wrong..
A smile not reaching our eyes, with the rest going along..

Sympathy is a word without meaning today..
It doesnt really matter whatever you say..
Someones pain is seen only if nothing else is in the way..
Noone wants to be the shoulder to cry on, not today..

Another piece of Me..

Hidden in a book as old as can be..

A token rose, of love that can never be..

A memory of a place and time i so wish to be..

Another piece of the jigsaw that is me..

A carving on a tree where swing once was..

In a backyard among the wild grass..

Awaiting turns, just not long enough however it may be..

Another piece of the jigsaw that is me..

The rain on my back in a wet mud ground..

The feel of a ball and it wet squishy sound..

Tired and triumphant, in school but free..

Another piece of the jigsaw that is me..

An old article with a grainy picture..

The 1994 World cup fixture..

Baggio and his silent plea..

Another piece of the jigsaw that is me..

An album full of faces once nicknamed..

The promises of undying friendship once claimed..

An autograph book in my dusty library..

Another piece of the jigsaw that is me..

A file full of certificates and some more..

A nameplate outside my office door..

A house and a car for others to see..

Another piece of the jigsaw that is me..

The missing pieces that make me whole..

The hidden depths of my soul..

Will it mean anything to thee..

If i say there is more to me ?

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