Joker’s Treat!


Life strolled naked,

Her hour yellow had arrived,

Her luck for the joker’s red smile,

Pity Taps gone dry yet another try,

Dirty rags forgotten,

Forgotten unwashed stained flesh,

Kissed that glass wall,

Rubbed on it some unfortunate stare,

Shooed her away her reality of the day,

Disposed now on tar to decay,

Filth today another hungry rainy day,

Behind that glass a doughnut someday,

The Joker’s treat, a flickering dream from the street,

Untamable ignited barked her desire…


(On a young ill-clad girl, thriving on the streets of Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, India. She visits McDonald’s everyday before it opens up for customers to try her luck at mellowing down that service boy for something that may be could cost him his job, to hand her out only one and one of that stuff on that big poster, a chocolate doughnut.)


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Indigo Depths


Into indigo depths of that calm ocean,

Let us sink in for our eternal promotion,

Can you hear that breathless still?

Bubbles in your ears, out of your nostrils?

We’ll paddle into that swaying forest, perpetually moist,

The fate of those scrubs and bushes born drowned,

We’ll kiss them wet, celebrate their fate, pluck some for our crowns,

Ball to mute motions of the prey and the hunter,

Adorn ourselves with forgotten treasures from sunk  plunder,

In tight embrace, we shall greet dolphins and whales,

Will turn down their pleads to come along,

Snort some air from the surface,

We’ll rather, butterfly deeper to the creeks on the bed,

Scare away the snobbish Electric Eel, conquer his hide-out,

Let us then suck each other off our last ounces of breath,

Lips on lips, closing eyes, the end’s switched on,

The mermaid’s harp, you can hear aloud, shall slowly faint,

Our beginning we never could paint,

But, the end is ours; we’ll design it our way,

Our resurrection shall engrave our love immortal,

Our passion shall have the shark stop for an impractical ogle,

Now foams our vision, our senses are in a lather,

We are bunking His test,

We’re skipping His mandate,

Scrubbing off our skin, bar-codes of His conquest,

To dissolve our naked clutch  into the water’s beauty,

Our stripped  souls into its blue patented liberty,

Let us  switch off for the best…



(May our Souls rest in Peace in Embrace…Amen!)




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Slums of Kandivali


Across the road,

Flourished another world,

The one brazen, unpolished,

One, sans the glass, the elevator and the décor,

The one that would never make it to the skies,

Might, only paint more green patches brown, only stretch to suffice,

In here is no business for the booted and the employed,

It is from here that cheap menial labour is deployed,

Amidst dirty parlours, dirtier bars, open drains and stony mud paths,

Breeds headless greed, short cuts to heal fates that are meant to bleed,

Amidst the stench of minerals therein, filthy liquor and spiked weed,

Fuelled by reflections of a shining Mumbai, its bright and golden beams,

Thrives hot aspirations, hotter dreams,

Some are eroded infertile, fragile on vision-less shoulders weak,

Some slither focused on scales of tactics,

On illegal buoys sail quietly on the sea of illiteracy,

Towards a shore concrete, green with a turf of prestige,

To mingle, then vanish unnoticed into whiter layers of that city…


( Kandivali, or Kandivli is a suburb of Mumbai of Maharashtra, India, for more, visit :


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Holed, ventilated,

Stale sore chrome,

Made-up in stains, smothered for permanence,

More his skin, less of a shirt,

His only cover, tearing and wearing away,

Bonded him, his cloth, forever,

Innocence from a distance,

An ill-clad close-up,

Diverted haywire, unwilling,

Under life’s pressure,

Sank his little cerebrum,

Tuned to waste, till now,

Into serving those sighing hours,

Sweetening brew for corporate ants,

Smoke for ones, booted busy,

Whistling sobs, abandoned by his attention,

On that clay fire,

Compelled, seared his fate,

Boiled the charred pan,

His eyes had me held,

My moves, my speech,

The way I sipped,

Everything was noted,

Concentrated on,

Those dreamy eyes,

I could read them crystal-clear,

Musing a proposition, seemingly impossible,

Visualizing himself well-shod in my shoes,

Engaged mentally, a presence blank,

Chasing the day’s end in head,

Only a mindless stance in checks and stripes,

Out from towers of duty,

On a tea-break,

Someday, on my side,

Someday, on the other side…



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‘Garments of Reality’


Dusk swooped down on the tech-city,

Yearning eyes of her door,

Awaited its lone owner,

The latch craved a familiar touch,

To be unbolted by someone very own,

Someone, similarly used to smiling on the surface,

At all her colleagues, friends and clients,

Like her door at every passerby, every guest, from the outside,

While, like her, it wept lonely inside…

Turning keys lent it a sweet tickle,

The wood knew, she was here,

Soon, it gave away, flung open,

Panted the door,

Shy with little to offer her, indebted it felt,

Every day, she presented him much-coveted ventilation,

Her nostrils swiftly leaped into action,

Exhaled stress,

Thin smoke from her spirit, over-baked ,

Inhaled afresh,

Suffused her lungs with air of independence and comfort,

Tossed to the sofa, her bag squatted in frowns,

Off her interest, off her shoulders for the day,

Abandoned, it wept, useless, out of her attention scope,

In sobs, mourned her distance,

She flipped sides, suspired love,

A fish out of water,

Aspired unshaken pinpointed attention,

Even that bed squeaked,

Bored of its owner, thirsty for affection,

Now, infected, it too longed some passionate action,

‘Garments of Reality’ disrobed,

Too spent to reach the wardrobe,

She chucked them aside,nearby,

Stripped real, she stretched,

Envisioned a broad shoulder to rest on,

That she cuddled into someone,

Soon,into an ocean, she slipped away,

To the depths of bliss, toppled by waves of illusion,

Into the naked surreal…


To sink further, she chose,

Forget ways to keep afloat, to swim ashore,

Soon, her skin began sensing his rubs,

Unaware, lost in her whiff, relentlessly worshiped was her temple of curves,

Relishing her worth, unfolded by his touch,

She embraced unblemished absolute submission,

Consumed his chest, moaned, she groaned,

Hung from his shoulders,

Her hair caressed, her dimples shone,

Love acknowledged her existence,

Applauded the Lord for His creation,

Beautiful, sculpted with decades of dedication,

Gratitude towards her celestial Artist,

Celebration of his virtuoso,

Ran through her veins,

Her blood tasted every drop of it,

Losing it to his eyes,

Dumb to her conquests then, her wins shoved aside,

Craved her soul to be devoured for life,

For a passionate defeat,

To drag her EdgingGodOut(ego) monsters to the altar of sacrifice,

She bit his ear, before she whispered,

“Love, life’s too single-shaded for me,

Can you bring in some colors?

My years cannot wear away, lovelorn,

Simply licking away lonely success,

After all my hard-work, locked-room labors,

Those tornadoes that I had to wage through to prove myself,

Those sleepless nights, those ceaseless corporate tempests,

I would want to catch glimpses of a new beginning,

In your arms, post-rains, when we’re done with torrential showers,

I would want it to be bright again…”


Poked by Sun-rays, through half-lifted shutters,

She eyes her ‘Garments of Reality’, puts them on to rise up and see,

Only crumbled sheets overlapped her honor,

Gone was the passion priest,

Still cloudy for a late Sunday,

Lazy legs, a yawning mind tumbled in sways to the balcony,

Rains had ceased, ensured croaking frogs, Crickets ticking aloud,

Up in that dimly lit sky,

A glance of her love, dangling his legs down from the clouds,

Seated on moist white sponge, on floating couches of delusion,

He was painting a gigantic rainbow…





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