Between roofs

I always wanted to know
What you get when you reach the end,
The proverbial end of the proverbial rainbow,
Is it the proverbial pot or just more snow.
Curiosity killed the cat they say,
I’m curious, who’s the cat and who are they?
Now my curiosity is visible as plain as day,
Let’s let the proverbs and idioms and clichés stay.

Curiosity led me to run my first 21.097,
Or half marathon as some might prefer,
Though I don’t know what led me
To run the next 5 thereafter.
I ran to know how it felt, running
more than you ever thought you could.
I found the end easy but the journey cunning,
And I got hooked, like a wannabe to dude.

I wanted to know what it feels like,
To go higher than you thought you would climb,
Climb using your legs, not a mountain bike,
So I took a journey through snow and grime,
To try and reach a summit in the Himalayas,
Which was just one of my numerous gurus,
None better than the people around me,
Without whom I would’ve made a lot of booboos.

I was once told, even a flower can be
Your guru, every thing or person,
Teaches you something for free,
All it costs you is just your vision.
It means every journey one takes
Teaches one more than one paid for it.
So travel and some sense try to make,
And you’ll be richer when you’re done with it.

Saranbir taught me that a leader does not have an age,
Umesh, that you need to keep up to keep an eye,
Satvik that you need a leap of faith to turn the page,
Jayanthi, that positive attitude can bid a doctor g’bye,
Aviraj’s determination lay expectations flat,
Prithvi taught me to be a mom to your mommy,
Sharanya, to smile no matter what,
And others taught me more for me to carry.

The mountains taught me there
Always will be someone taller than you,
You don’t need to fret and care,
Just stand tall and be true.
The stars taught me to look up above.
Look up and believe,
Even if you don’t see them, love,
They never actually leave.

I always thought a beach person I am,
The sound of the waves, the sun on my face,
Having now seen the Himalayas in all its glam,
Doubts I have in my mind more than a trace.
Never will I forget the moment I stood
On the roof of our planet, our home,
Above me I saw another roof just as good,
Standing between roofs felt like reading a never-ending tome.

Unwelcome

You show up as you please,
No matter how hard we squeeze.
In fact, that gives you speed
Like you’ve a mind of your own.

You come when you’re most unwelcome,
You don’t when we want you to run,
You sure seem to have a lot of fun
Like you’ve a mind of your own.

All it takes is a stifled yawn,
Or a scene in a stupid movie,
You be a bitch then and show up
You do have a mind of your own.

I wish you didn’t exist, were never born,
Especially when you’re not mine,
You ensure no one’s deceived,
Maybe it’s good you’ve a mind of your own.

The Yellow Butterfly

I saw you flit around yesterday,
Moving from one to the other bay,
Five feet something above the ground
Clamping hair almost brown.

The date changes and the months too
And clothes change from red to blue,
But you always show up no matter what,
Just like twists in a well written plot.

Your master must adore you so
To let you fly but never let go.
Could be because you go best with reds,
Or maybe you represent a debt.

I’m quite infatuated with you it seems,
Though it’s more because of who you mean.
I do hope you’ll breathe one day,
Flutter little yellow wings and fly away.

The games words play

Since the time I was a boy small,

(Some of you will now snigger),

I was the one with the book and not the ball,

And just like everyone as I grew bigger,

Books were still not considered de rigueur.

I read Champak and I read Tinkle,

And anything that I could in front of me see,

However, text books were always just a sprinkle,

They somehow drove me up a tree,

Holy Mother of God!, why wouldn't they just let me be?

As I grew older, my books grew bolder,

(No, I don't mean what you think I mean),

Books became bigger and the stories grew colder.

The trend continued as I eventually passed my teens,

But boy, I could easily be called a reading machine.

I never romanticised books, their form didn't matter,

The beauty of the print or the color of the cover,

These were to books what egg is to batter;

They just hold them so they don't fall all over,

It was the words and their play that made me a lover.

They have made me laugh they have made me smile,

Even made me cry and in love made me fall,

Making every sleepless night completely worthwhile,

I know it is me and not them at the other's beck and call,

Though sports could have possibly made me tall.

I now read them on my beloved Kindle named Jude,

There is no fragrance of inky books or colorful prints,

Though I now carry in my pocket, books in multitude.

I still dream and they still color my glasses in various tints,

And without dog-ears through my books I sprint.

I still want to own a library where books for free kids rent,

They come and read every book ever written,

It is just a fantasy, which periodically I vent.

I can keep writing on how with books I am smitten,

But I'll now let you be, and assume you too are bitten.

Them

They flit around like butterflies,
Fortunately, they are as pretty as most too,
If they were not, God help them,
They would most likely be in the zoo.

If they mean yes, they say a no,
Sometimes they never let you go,
Most times give a high sometimes low,
Why, I wonder my head doesn’t blow.

Round and round the mulberry bush,
Twinkle twinkle little star; I know,
I don’t make any sense to you,
But try to remember, this is how they crow.

Their smiles, they light up the world,
Scowls, they fright down the world,
Words, they ignite the world,
Dear lord, this world, poor, poor world.

Perfect day

It was the day,
Oh what a day it was,
When it might go her way,
Oh what a day it was!

It started clear and bright,
Oh what a day it was,
All seemed so right,
Oh what a day it was!

Then there was the perfect lunch,
Oh what a day it was,
That should have been the hunch,
Oh what a day it was!

The tea was just perfect,
Oh what a day it was,
Nothing was a suspect,
Oh what a day it was!

I can go on forever,
Oh what a day it was,
It is not really all that clever,
Oh what a day it was!

Now like a bloody fool on weed I have extended over a mile,
Oh what a day it was,
Hope it is looked on by your smile,
Oh what a day it was!

Even tattoos fade

I look and my mind springs up a rhetoric,
The kind of look that results in a smile,
The kind of smile that makes you feel euphoric,
I think it has been a while.

I talk, as if I am the talkative one,
The kind of talk that stretches away the miles,
The kind of mile that is used as a pun,
Trust me dude, it has been a while.

I hug, to say everything I cannot,
The kind of hug that I am told is only mine,
The kind of hug that ties friends in a knot,
Remember? No? Well, it really has been a while.

Together till death do us apart all say,
The kind of death that occurs when agony piles,
The kind of agony that makes a tattoo fade away,
Haha! Finally you know it has been a while.

The Unrhyme

I think, I think and I think,
Of everything but now of ink,
Why is there no ink in pink?
Damn! These rhymes, have no link.

So here, I give it another shot,
To make sense and just rhyme not,
No no no! Again I lost the plot,
My head is where rhymes come to rot!

Now I travel all the way to Khar,
It is known to be the land of Sardars,
By train I go not by my car,
At least this rhyme can be called par.

This post is akin, to moon-walking in an ice rink,
Hence now I stop, before I cause your blood to clot,
I know now as far, I will never be a rhyming star,
See what I did in this last stanza love?

Cursory Rhymes

Taking forward my earlier tirades/rants/memories of/from school, I am going to rant a little more. About pre-school to be precise.

Pre-school and primary school are usually considered to be the most important years of our education. This is where the building blocks are laid towards the formation of a lifetime of learning and character building. One would consider each and every word taught in these years to be thought out extremely carefully. Wouldn’t you?

Read the below sentence:

Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock; when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall and down will come baby, cradle and all.

How factual. How practical. How real. I mean, this will be the exact sequence of events if the wind blows. We should teach our babies right at the outset that they should never tie a cradle to a tree top. Brilliant!

Let us observe another sentence:

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do. She gave them some broth, without any bread, whipped them all soundly, and sent them to bed.

Another practical statement to make to kids. Family planning. Or else, you as mom will have to whip your kids to bed! Less said the better about this.

These are such incorrect things to teach babies. Stupid sentences made up just so that they rhyme! I have not even reached the real violent ones:

London bridge is falling down, Falling down, falling down, London bridge is falling down, My fair lady.

OR

Jack and Jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after.

OR

Three blind mice, three blind mice, see how they run, see how they run! They all ran after the farmer’s wife, who cut off their tails with a carving knife; did ever you see such a thing in your life, as three blind mice?

OR the ever popular

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall; all the king’s horses and all the kings men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.

I did mention in one of my earlier posts, that we are taught too many impractical stuff in school. I now stand corrected. I mean, if we really have to make our kids aware of the violent and hurtful world, what better way to do it other than making up cute rhymes and make them learn it when they are 3 year olds.

I leave you with the cutest of them all:

Georgie Porgie, puddin’ and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry. When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away.

Now you know what to blame for all things that go wrong with humanity.

 

P.S. Do notice the cartoon at the top by my exclusive cartoonist. Do give feedback. 🙂

This joint in time

As you sit on this balmy night,

Everything around you seems awry.

You just don't remember what is 'right',

Feels like you were hit by a lorry.

When was the last time you called,

Someone who would call you right back?

Like a software that wont install,

Its like all your brain needs is a hack.

You don't know what you want it to do,

If you want it to change time or stop it.

Maybe all you want is the hack to reset you,

So you are back at the start in a click.

But think about it, is it what you want,

To do everything you did, all over again?

Does it scare you my friend, does it daunt,

To know you will still do it all the same?

So maybe there is absolutely no point,

In asking for another chance ever.

What you do is pick today, now, this joint,

And make sure every moment you treasure.