Punctuations

Death will be a full stop.
I care too less to fear it.
Love, it's just a comma,
I see the full stop pretty near it.
My life was a clear sentence,
No clause in it was hazy -
Then you walked in as a question mark
And that's what drives me crazy.

And Back To Convention

SoI have been told I do not rhyme anymore, hey...art imitates life, remember? Still, lesser mortals must constantly prove themselves, so here is a rather feeble return back to the original style...

Take me to a place where there are no doubts,
Where I can jump in an ocean and laugh-
And drown, but never regret the leap,
Never regret being daft.
Where we can err, not learn, and err again,
And do things we love to do.
Where mistakes fall like fruit from Newton's tree
And at each we discover things new...
Take me to a place where noone needs
Must understand who we are...
Where we can dash into the blazing Sun
And moonlight with a star.



Told ya...

Some Sense This Time

This one's by Partho.....


Now come to me.
You want reasons
Not of any particular love;
Just habit enforces your queries.

No, you are not flint-hearted,
Just practical. It's an old lie,
All this tomfoolery.
Grapple with my justice.
I move beyond the shimmerings of a wintry dawn,
I fly on thin ice.

So stand beside me
By this here snow-filled mountain
Below lie the sleeping multitudes.
My voice will not reach them
But a single cry
Will bring the avalanche down.


And you had the audacity to tell me the previous one was an offshoot of this. Get a life, there is a difference between a Picasso and a Richard.

Throwing The Gauntlet

Give me you hand
At your own peril.
I walk along the edge of a cliff...
You will have to walk on air,
Fot the other side is not my domain.
We can drink rain and eat snow
And hurt under sleet.
The sun will be our lamp,
And we can dream when we shut our eyes
To switch it off.
I wonder what dreams are made of
Over there...
I know you do, too.
So give me your hand now,
And let's just find out.

You tell me you are perfect.
Shining armour, title and all.
But you brilliance mitigates your brilliance.
Finish your own wars first.

Spend your time sharpening your swords
For some subsequent quarrel.
Do not kill it, instead,
In promising the last was the last;
For hatred, at least, is more honourable than lies.
Not more lovable, no! But then
Nothing is more lovable than hate.

Slay your demons,
Then search for mine.
If you succeed,
I will be slain already.
You give me answers
But I am your question.
What answer do you have to me?

Of Monometallic Alloys

I do know it has been a long time, friend, but it might comfort you to know that you are not the only one. See, I had to get back to you finally, and here I am.

Of Monometallic Alloys
(Chemistry Loses Again)

There are stones
And there is glass.
Thought it was inpenetrable,
Its surface was steel, after all-
The self-delusion of silica.
Then a clash-
The rocks stayed strong, but it cracked,
Realising, only too late,
The steel was actually
only aluminium foil.

It is getting bullet-proofed now
Shunning the bauxite and the terrifying truth
That the heart of it
remains but molten gas.