Thus Spake The Koh-i-Noor!


In me shines this unworthy world, crystalline,

When I rose, dropped out of the fool’s hand,

Rubbed off his dirty palm in that Kollur mine,

Thus began my journey to change royal fates,

Desired me every eye, I was an emperor’s richest conquest,

Ringed fingers rubbed me in silk,

Brighter than the Sun shone his sight,

Devoured me his vision, rolled the chariot,

Into the fortress of Golkanda, past cannons on the guarded entrance,

The stone’s fatal when eyed with lust, a witness River Krishna watches by…


On each prism, on every beaming face of mine,

Reflections of greed and sins reside,

The Mughal touch doubled my worth,

I defined beauty for them, its truest shade to live for and die,

From Gwalior in the shadow of bloodthirsty swords,

Strode my destiny, protected by a thousand heroes,

On the sea of silver and gold was floating then, the Sultanate of Delhi,

Awaiting light in the aromatic darkness of the royal treasury,

Rested the Mughal fortune, now the clan of Babur could sigh wealthiest…


A kaleidoscope of arches, cones and balls,

In gold, shone bright embedded colours,

Every feather of the royal bird, a precious stone,

Draws in a universe, that perch in gold,

Ripening fortunes, an empire beaming on display,

Only my inclusion to adorn the royal seat,

Brought into limelight Shah Jahan’s fetish for beauty,

I ruled over rubies, emeralds, diamonds and pearls,

The Mughal lustre was spreading worldwide,

From the day I shone from the Peacock Throne…


I’d never seen lust so raw for me,

That desire to possess me, have me to adorn a destiny,

Like that in the eyes of this Persian invader,

The only ones that could behold in me the Mountain of lights,

For me, he had a name, a dream one with the brightest sheen,

Of my desirability jealous grew the Queen,

With the King dead, a new Afghani conquest,

Her Majesty, she might have then understood,

Its tongue hanging out, awaited me the Mountains of Hindu Kush,

The rocky barrenness couldn’t match my grandeur for long,

I was off to a place dressed in silk, exotic enough to have me secure,

Amidst treasures of the British pawn in Lahore…


Visitors peeping over the glass,

Just for a glimpse of the cross,

More clear on the Imperial Crown,

A glance of the stone that they’d been told about,

I wonder if they realize the price that I’d drawn from generations,

To own me once, kingdoms have been ravaged,

Kings have chosen to possess me then perish with true salvation,

The powerful has been my slave eternally,

I have been won and lost, lost and won,

Never been used to such prolonged peace

Such helpless eyes craving coward and quiet,

I wonder if this is the most powerful seat,

I wonder if I’ve been won forever,

For years now, I’ve been awaiting an invader,

One that could pay for me with death,

Not fought for any more, now bored immortal, my lustre,

I miss the golden past when life equalled my worth,

Beauty sought action, sparked that fatal desire,

Win me again, make me yours, shed some blood for me,

Let me adorn your land for you,

The Moon shall wear a veil, sons of the Sun shall drool,

I’m bored a display for the timid on a British tour,

I await my knight, another conquest of valour,

I’m the Koh-i-Noor…



The Koh-i-Noor, (Persian, “Mountain of Lights”), is a 105.6 metric carats diamond, weighing 21.6 grammes in the most recent cut state, and once the largest known diamond. The diamond has belonged to many dynasties and finally, the British.

In 1850, the diamond became part of the British treasury and then, of the British Crown Jewels when Queen Victoria was proclaimed Empress of India in 1877. The diamond is currently set into the Crown of Queen Elizabeth and is on display at the Tower of London.

For more:

For a chronological  flashback in history:




Image Credits:

Her Majesty revisits!


Could be a coveted Mumtaz,

Or, an alluring Cleopatra on a tour of the Taj,

In reflections of her cautious soul,

No eye could miss that touch of gold,

Behind that sweet rage, fluting red in her eyes,

Slithered from an exotic past, tales untold,

For few could sink into that marble glare,

Withstand the Tibetan Turquoise’ aesthetic flare,

Few could save winking blind,

Such was the fiery grace of that Lankan Sapphire,

To fit into that Mughal garden, stretching eternal,

A Paradise, in perpetual bloom, its chrome flowers,

Seducing every retina, flashed sight, those Persian vines,

Vowed the Marble, white, by its polish, Immortal,

By its Jewels tarnished Priceless with love, it swore,

In perch on her Crystal floor,

Flashing her belief in its plasters,

Its strength to shield a historic amour,

From the darkest tempests of time,

To render it imperishable against all worldly climes,

With an indigo sheen on her aqua feathers,

Was no spirit, humdrum,

Even, Nature took a lull,

Chose a humble surrender,

Frowned summer, hid her brows,

Held hot winds away in shame,

Ensured shade amidst those steeples,

For it too, sensed her divinity,

Her unchallenged charm,

Royalty dripping from her feathers,

A vintage taste familiar, it felt it too,

No fowl to snatch the peacock’s crown,

This was some lustrous Queen from the past,

Only, failing to conceal her oozing virtue,

Now balanced proportion by the Taj,

On its intangible, yet indisputable scales of beauty,

She flapped her lashes, blinked with pride,

Awaited her ambrosial chance,

For her worthy King in a lame democracy, her true admirer,

To recognize whom, shall suffice her single glance,

The one with a vision in this sea, blind,

Amidst souls dangling futile to short-lived trance,

The one chivalrous, elegant and clever,

The one that craved glory in permanence,

The one that could engrave her love, forever,

Fly along, beak in beak, feather on feather,

Into the time-ridden lands of amaranthine romance…


(From surreal courtyards of the Taj Mahal, Agra, India.)



Image :

Prelude to the Quake


This night wins Darkness,

Overthrown, dim shines Her throne,

Follows fate of the dying firefly,

Sobs over its dimming light,

Mourns a flickering end,

Mocks the Moon’s defeat,

The cocky Night Gladiolus,

Cursing she says, “Angel of the Abyss,

Hide your scars,

Don’t you dare shine,

Pull down your veil,

Shameless Star,

Dusk should’ve found you covered,

Now you shall boil jealous,

Watch me Resurrect,

My Birth shall challenge your Beauty,

Soon you shall disappear,

My floating lovers shall stab your rear,

Lock you in their dark maze,

In their foamy haze,

Eat you away from this atmosphere,

Heavy-eyed, did they touch down today,

Betrayed enraged, lashing whips of thunder,

They kissed two buds moist,

Tell her, if I’m lying,

It’s your turn, O Evening Primrose,

That kiss devoured your eclipse too,

Foamy lips swore you your luscious Renaissance tonight,

Condensed vapors, affection’s residue,

Evidence on you is the sweet untimely dew,

Tell the Moon,

These are her hours of Doom,

She shall envy us bloom,

Our steamy suitors would gulp her down soon,

Obfuscate her till dawn,

By then, she’ll lose it to their murk,

For we will be theirs,

Romance shall soak all countdowns,

Floating Princes of the Skies,

Overjoyed, we’ll bathe gorgeous,

Glow seductive,

Will ooze down our tender petals,

Their intermittent cries,

They’ll overdose on joy,

We’ll sway to their cracks and bursts,

Their lusty gales of love,

We’ll conquer the symbolic throne of belle,

Beam brighter in Van Gogh’s Starry Night,

She’s had her time,

The morn shall see this Macrocosm celebrate,

We shall be crowned,

Brides of the clouds,

Will laud us in bows,

Streams, the grass and the trees,

We’ll be the new Queens,

Only, you and me…”

Sarcastic shams echo,

Slaughter the hour’s quiescence,

Spiral up to the Moon,

Semi, crescent and then gone,

Pin-drop pitch dark,

Dogs howl, foxes bark,

Loathing this shift in royalty,

Weary under his humiliated loyalty,

The planet weeps, loss of vintage love,

Rebellious, it slides into Reverse…

Morning Headlines:

“Earthquake at night, rocks Jakarta out of slumber”






Image from :

Charisma on-the-Go…







Passion, Fervour loses it here,
Fails to capture my mind,
Eyes are drawn,
Sight is sought, stretched,
My vision is won,
Defeated by her charisma,
No matter,
How strictly on the journey,
How intensely compartmentalized…

I shouldn’t be looking,
I was, I wasn’t,
Her glamour,
It radiated,
Got me winking,
Almost blind,
Spent conscious,
I looked open to the window,
Hard into tinted glass,
Stations, hills and trees,
Vendors scream,
Porters, passengers run,
She reflected through everything,
Gleamed,beamed strong,
Her skin,its shine,
Outshone all,
Now, the train had a Sun…

Painted in honey,
With smooth brushes of silk,
Thinned in milk,
Exhaled maturity,
From every pore,
On all sides,
Sucked in respect,
From nostrils,
Used to an air of honor,
Her invisible boundaries,
Neatly chalked round,
Got me craving,
To live it till the end of the earth,
Wait for her rebirth,
For her to spring into her teens,
To serve me her fragrances,
Her soup of youth to taste,
Until, she screamed at her little one,
Got me ready to laugh-off my wait,
Pinched me back to senses,
Kicked me start,
For a more realistic bait,
She was too good to be true…