Friday, December 02, 2005

Beautiful People.- Parody

Manisha Lakhe.

This piece from Caferati Blog,


With due apologies, I am twisting around a breathtakingly wonderful poem :)

Beautiful People.

I used to look like you
people working from 9 till 5
of missing their trains,
Your middle class apperance
was distasteful to me.

You cringed ,
when I passed by,
afraid to catch a whiff
of the stale mogra
as our paths crossed.

But I've been touched
by the magical brush of
the makeover man
and I guess most of you
who now cross my path
just gape at me in awe.

You saw me run for the train,
twist my ankle and trip,
You rolled your eyes,
and carried on with you life.

You spotted me,
at market place or
at crowded coffee shops,
never spared another glance

You did not see me at all!
All you saw was
another plain Ben,
crowding the city Malls.

You bumped into me
at the bookshop,
you moved away
a patronizing smile later,
thinking I smell of chameli oil.

You don’t know, but
Now I smell of snow lillies,
and the elusive smell of
imported musk..

I am sorry, but I avoid
the non a/c halls.
and the out door events, you see.

Would I really allow
the sun and the wind
to rough up my body?

The stars in my eyes
are purest swarowski,
And my heart has
room only for one,

For I have been touched
by the magical brush
of the makeover man.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

The Dragon and The Caterpillar.

What a lovely day it is
The Caterpillar thought
As she climbed down from the tree

What’s that shiny thing over there
May be I should
Go in the meadow and see

She scurried down
On her hundred little toes
And reached
A shiny green mountain was it ?

It seemed like a creature,
And It definitely moved…
She climbed up and shouted –
as politely as she could-


The Dragon was shaken
out of his reveries
And cautiously opened one eye
And then both

And stared .. astonished
At Something very small
sitting on the tip of his nose !!

And Demanding to know Who HE was !
He had never in his life seen
anything so small

The Dragon, a polite and peaceful guy
Who liked nothing better than
Dozing in the sun and
Blowing smoke rings
through his nose,

He searched his brain for a suitable reply
‘I am a Dragon.. I think least
That’s what I have been told !!

Now if you don’t mind-
Pray tell me what YOU are,
If I may be so bold ?

The Caterpillar pondered
Confused and replied ,
I am green, I am shiny..
I think I am a Dragon too,

A little Dragon now, I know,
But I’ll grow up
And become a BIG Dragon
With wings and smoke-
Just like you.

The dragon cocked his head
trying to take a good look
From side to side.

She didn’t look like any dragon
He had ever seen
Little or otherwise,

But he was a polite and peaceful guy
Who liked nothing better than
dozing in the sun
Blowing smoke rings
through his nose.

So He decided to hold his peace,
and nodded
Almost dislodging poor Caterpillar
from her perch.

There sprang between them
a beautiful friendship.
They told each other
the forest gossip.

The Dragon loved to hear
The secrets of the forest
And The Caterpillar loved to watch
the fire and smoke.

Every now and then she tried to blow,
A few rings of her own !

Together they planned
to roam the far lands

And one day caterpillar
Went home to sleep...Yawn !!

The Dragon, Not quite understanding
Where his friend has gone.
He waited in the meadow,
Patient, but forlorn.

She woke with a start,
Was it hours ? was it days ?
Poor Dragon must be waiting !

She rushed down the tree
On her hundred little.. toes ??
Where were her toes ?
What were these
Long black spindly things ?!
She couldn’t climb down
and clumsily lost her footing

and down
she fell,
with wind
past her
as she fell
the ground…..

....and bright wings
unfurled themselves
and she floated !!!

She had WINGS !
Bright Yellow
with red dots on,
Now she too was a Dragon !

She flew to him Happily
And shouted “Hey! Look at Me !!"

The Dragon looked
at the little patch of color
Dancing in the air joyously

His little friend was Back !
And just LOOK at her !!
He watched entranced.
the Butterfly’s dance.

The Caterpillar-now a Butterfly
On her favorite perch she sat,
Now that she too had wings,
It was time to start.

They traveled the far
and Unknown lands
experiencing the world anew.

That she wasn’t a dragon,
The Butterfly never ever knew,

And the Dragon? He kept his peace
A big truth he had seen
Outside we may be different kinds,
But we're all Dragons within.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

These Haikus are Uncyclopedia!

An exercise posted on caferati by Billi.

1. Poured out my heart
in a chat and he said,sorry- DC.
what were you saying?

2. High walls
keeps enemy out
what about friends?

3. One smile can kill.
One touch can resurrect.
What is life and what is death?

Monday, July 11, 2005


between the words
hangs silence
I crave.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Tell me how....

Something wonderful happened when I posted this poem on a writer's network. It inspired many more.
I would like to present them together as it can be seen as a wonderful dialogue between sexes.


What does one do
with a man..
Who listens to sounds
beyond the sounds.
Whose eyes see
visions which no one can?

How does one woo
A man
Who like an oyster
from the alien seas …
listens to Far away tides?

How to make him stay..forever-
if such a thing exists…

This elusive, subtle,
shadowy, enigmatic,
mystifying man !

Tell me HOW
it can be done…..




Never knew you'd take a look,
else I'd never have kept my book
open for your eyes to read
and trumpet evidence of your deed!




A Vagabond heart
He's never yours to hold onto.
Its the freedom, the unfettered existence
Which makes him what he is within.
He could never be made to stay
But would perhaps stay if allowed to go.
A Spirit, as restless as a hurrying creek
Cannot be stilled into a silent lake.
You could perhaps be the bank
To run with him till eternity
Or perhaps be a little leaf
And let him take you on his journey
Who knows what mysteries you will unfold
Who knows what magic he will show you
The Vagabond heart
He could be yours forever....

-Sujaya Narahari.


Why you have to be so possesive
and yearn to take away my freedom?
I am a free bird,
your world is my kingdom!

Seeker, seeker
seek something else.
Love, that is not binding,
will get plenty, not any less.

I am generous
don't need to woo me
you already have me
just open your eyes and see!

-Musten Jiruwala.



Oh but I know not that my heart be vagabond,
for my heart forever has sought rest.
Seeker I may be, but that helps seeks out
the wonder in each passing moment,
however to be a Seer is a tall claim
I can’t myself make.
There are fleeting glimpses of floating memories
and ephemeral visions when times linearity dilates...
but each of us has our own perspective,
so spokesperson I can hardly, for myself, claim.
Thus for myself I speak, a seeker only seeks the truth...
for truth has a fragrance that all can share.
And when you know that
the fragrance forever and everywhere abounds,
then what's there to keep?
What’s there to get?

-Avi Das.


Some people are like travellers
Some people are like the tree
Either way, different sights,
both of them get to see

Be strong and steady like the tree
Stand tall, but offer your shade
When he returns, weary and worn,
his shoes he might gladly trade,

for a familiar spot at your feet,
for a patch of grass to lie on
And if he does not tread that path
let bygones be bygones.

-Anitha Murthy.


Saturday, July 02, 2005

I Love You Mumbai


Throbbing in my veins

like never ending

pound of the trains...

Street names

keep changing

So do the attitudes.

Sweaty Strange faces

of multitudes.

Dirty, stinky,

muggy city

with an invisible shore,

Used, abused by

People she succors,

My SWEET Mumbai-

Every man’s whore.

Summer.-A Collage

Temperature soars
And mercury sizzles

Every one longs for
Unexpected drizzles

Every one is sweaty
Every one is tanned.

Every one is drinking
juices fresh or canned.

Some lucky souls
Go camping in the hills

Summer is the time
For soaring power bills.

Going for a flick
In cool movie halls

Strolling on the beach
Eating Ice Gola balls.

Dancing in the sprinklers,
Or splashing in the pool

Anything at all
To stay a little cool.

White cotton skirts
Billow in the breeze

Wide brimmed hat
On a picture pretty Ms..

Pale Pastel hues of
Green and blue and pink.

Watermelon juice,
With a garnish of mint !!

Barefoot in the park
carefree and gay

Doze in the shade and
Dream away the day


Like a Mother
turning in her sleep,
casually -
The Earth turned.

of her child's existance,
Lost in her
Sweet slumber.

Lives are lost,
Homes destroyed
Dreams shattered,

The Mother sleeps on
Unaware, undisturbed.

The Ring

I am fascinated by old desks, they always have a story to tell. Here is one such.

The Ring.

Clearing his Father’s desk ,
He found an ancient ring.

Encased in a small wooden box,
Stuck behind the paneling

Father wasn’t there any more,
He felt lost and bereft.

This ring was found among
The Papers that were left.

The metal was tarnished and black
It looked cheap and old-

Was it silver- copper or brass?
No- definitely not Gold.

He took it near the window
And examined its shine,

A mere trinket it was for sure,
But with intriguing design.

As he looked at it more closely
Through a magnifying glass

He found the faint inscription-
‘This Too Shall Pass.'

The words echoed inside him.
Filling the emptiness within

He had heard his father often say
the very same words to him,

The air was strangely still
As he felt a presense intense...

Was He here ? consoling him
Through the impossible distance?

He thought he heard a faint murmur
of his father's gentle tones

His fingers tightly gripped the ring,
and he knew he wasn't alone.

A Job Application

(a resume in 100 words).

I am An
Odd Job Woman.
No Job is
too odd for me.

Your Dog needs
to be walked ?

Your art needs
to be hawked ?

your cellar needs
to be stocked ?

I am the one.

I'm a great gardener,
a chef and a baker,
and also a great
candlestick maker !

Do you want to copy
fine miniatures ?

I can also
forge signatures !!

Don't go by
my looks,
I will never
win any crown !!

I am-after all


Odd Job woman
in Town.