Melissa, 22 F, found dead.

Versova, Mumbai;

In blue skirt and a white jacket.

Covered till neck with a blanket

Lies Melissa ; pale, numb and stiff.

lips all parched, nails all blue as if

She never lived; like the sack she was found in.

so mercilessly shoved into an old stinky dustbin.

It drizzled all night, thundered a bit.

all was well until a neighbor saw it.

drenched in blood, cuts on her wrist.

drape around neck, a blade in her fist.

Face swollen, disfigured due to constant rain.

hit on her head so bad, one can see her brain.

As the police still tried to figure out  the crime scene,

A neighbor told,''It was with a Guy she was last seen."

"BANG ! BANG !", the man heard twice followed by a thud.

then, there were footprints as if someone had come out of mud.

He was too sleepy, tired to look out. After all,

coming late is common for Gen-x who hang out.

Apparently it was Melissa's birthday the day before

excited,bit drunk,it seemed she was looking for more.

Her Flat is located in the suburbs of Versova.

She migrated to Mumbai but belongs to Goa.

A team that searched her flat found a bottle of chivas Regal.

a knife on her bed, almirahs robbed and blood stains on table.

They say ,The guy ; Sam, her lover was a habitual drug addict.

On inquiry it was found,

Someone shot him mysteriously at the church of St. Benedict.

That was all there to see and what neighbors could tell.

The sleuths could investigate and their dogs could smell.

But who killed Mellisa? and why? or did she commit suicide.

Everyone looked puzzled, not even the cops could decide.

In the meantime, police checked her Facebook account

and they were astonished to see what they had  found.

A post simply read on her wall.

"Baby its over, don't ever call". :@

On her birthday, she got the-humiliation-of-a-lifetime as her gift.

Followed by 40 comments and 60 friends who generously liked it.

Now it was an open and shut case from there on.

After briefing the media, police finally zeroed upon,

the social media for instigating her to commit suicide

With nowhere to run,made it impossible for her to hide.

The World, the perfect virtual world of hers died a slow death.

With each post of hers clinging on to the strings of her last breath.

May be she wanted to it to be memorable,worthy of a R.I.P Status Update.

After all, her virtual life has give her more meaning  than her real life till date.

The blood spattered on her 'Wall' testified against all who killed her.

Her lover, her friends,who reveled in her misery and made fun of her.

No !

She didn't die, she wasn't killed nor she committed suicide

rather she was shamed in public, butchered and crucified.

Or, may be love killed her; yes, the one that been a serial killer for ages.

This time, in a new form; the Digital love, love that spreads via messages.

Ends up in inboxes, chat messengers and finds way through the heart.

The short cut way, the shallow way, where it ends before it could start.

Yes ! Love killed Melissa, on a social platform ,in the public eye and in cold blood.

and time is not far when all of us would get same  repercussions of this Social-Smut.

As Melissa lies in the stillness of these restless times,

I put down the copy of Times of India with  headline that read,

                                  On 30th july, in versova mumbai , Melissa , 22 F,  found dead.

The Last Poem

Before My words loose their sheen

My hands shiver and tremble,

The ink chokes my pen or

the blood in my veins chokes the heart,

Let me scribble for the last time.

The other day,

when i looked into your eyes,

they didn't say anything,

i waited for answers,

yes for old times sake i waited.

I waited for the right words,

buti guess I've forgotten their jargon or

probably you didn't teach me well.

They didn't twirl or glance at me.

Still, lifeless they were, as if

they don't recognize me anymore.

Listen,My words feed on you.

when you raise hands they dance,

They chuckle when you smile and

Your eyes give them enlightenment.

Today i have no rhyme, its all raw.

Without you it seems

the symphony is just not there.

Time has come,though it waited for long.

It was just that i wasn't strong.

I just wanna sway away with you

on these words, across these feelings

far beyond where time stands still.

I wish life had been a fairy tale

so,i could offer it all my dreams.

or i wish life had been a prose

butit turned out to be a withered rose.

I remember,

once you said, "Poets are miserable."

yes, without you I am.

for i am too ordinary without you,

its you who manifest all my creations,

disguise in my vocabulary

and run through my rhymes.

Yes,you never failed me as a Poem.

But I won't diminish, i won't die.

till you shine in my stanzas,

dazzlein my dreams

and pop up in my puns.

I Won't die, this poet won't die.

I will rise like phoenix with wings of hope and fly.

As we part, I wish i could give you more

as you have given me.something precious,

but what could be more precious to me than you?

so, i kneel down and offer you all i have got,

a handful of words and countless emotions.

as a parting gift,i dedicate to you MY LAST POEM.

"Confessions of a [B]Backbencher"

3 feet to the left, 2 n a half feet to right,
we sit in a formation which is often tight.
some call us the "mine of adventures;but
proudly we call us "THE Back benchers"

Through the windows by the side, we scan.
the practical world outside, as much as we can.
u know, that's the best way to confront.
the crooked mindsets sitting in the front.
In this jungle of grades n marks,
who cares for our "genius sparks";so
we lose the "theory-sheep" to the hazy glasses in front.
n when the "exam-lion" comes ,we r ready for the hunt.

In a class of barely fifty seven.
Virtually a carnival lies at desk no. 'seven'.
The munch before the lunch;or
peanuts, cookies n wafer crunch.
paper missiles,the chalkguns n pen fight,
surely is a testimony to our Army's might.
poems , the pranks n confessions galore,
scripted on the benches are a treat for sure.
mind u,we've sacrificed a lot in order to do so.
we are no less than the great "ROBINSON CRUSOE''.

we've been ill treated off late.
humiliated,disgraced n defamed till date.
neither given importance nor our due,
have accomplices n sympathizers few.
still we take everything with a pinch of salt ;n
make sure our movement never comes to halt.
Also, we never let ourselves to come class late,
Either we come early or return back from gate.
it's understandeble who doesn't want to beat,
the backseat boys for the "coveted seat"

Actually, we lead from the back.
try to put everyone back on track.
those who have left us on the journey to the front.
If u r reading dis, you are always welcome back.

Time may come or go.
wind may stop or blow.
still for me,the time will definitely stand still .
when i come back to this memory lane and i will.
with tears of joy,i wud say this is where i lost my heaven.
when i see myself right there at the back on desk no. "seven"

My experiment with faith.

Have u ever had a "soulburn"??

i guess not,or may be.

but that's the case quite often,

if not always, with me.

The blisters on faith do itch

bruises and scars are a plenty.

i wanted answers to questions which

some say,are reasonable but empty.

i resent the human commitment towards religion for being lame.

Be it a grain of sand or a rock in water, they sink as the same.

How do we testify religion?;or

rather differentiate with delusion,

somehow qauntify,relate or estimate it's limits;or

maybe just confine it to some measurable units.

U would say, it's impossible or freaky.

but as a matter of fact, Engineers are creepy;so

The engineer in me took his seat on a pavement..

so as to conduct , one of a kind "The faith experiment".

At the end of that road, stands a banyan tree.

which ultimately became my makeshift laboratory.

a big round stone with colored forehead,

Few candles, husk,holy colors n flower bud

all this was placed under the tree; n thus

turned out to be my experimental apparatus.

From dawn to dusk, i waited.

for people to pass with breath baited.

some bowed heads ,some lit candles

put sweets , camphor and bangles.

Almost All but one, didn't bow.

may be this led me to conclude how?

for him it's delusion, superstition;or

for others, faith in their religion:OR

Vice-versa? isn't it a contradiction?but

i feel it's the most appropriate conclusion...

Conclusion:

Religion is like a bird,flying with wings of faith.

but lands on feet of superstition.

likewise,

religion is just like life,

where life is lived on faith

but death is the delusion... or,

Vice-versa,once again a contradiction, now

u decide, whats the best solution?

That cup of tea

when i said
Come lets talk
she quivered a bit but,
only to say "how about a walk?"

two steps down the lane
i tried every bit not to act insane
i knew it was my day..
hesitantly,i offered
let's have a cup of tea??
she smiled,blushed
followed by a "yes"...

hmmm...
tea never seemed so beautiful,
so full of aroma, so sweet..
may be,
her smile added that extra sugar,
the air around her that xtra warmth,
the charm on her face that extra colour

Some say,
tea is nothing more than leaves, milk n sugar...
but i differ
a cup of tea makes friends,
it holds the time for u ,
it makes those special people stay with u
for that xtra minute, that xtra hour...
Isn't that great???

finally,
she left me..
before giving me a company of lifetime
the cups filled with her reminiscence,
In my company,
those empty cups still wait for her..
the teas are sweet, but not great
the colour ,the fragrance all there
but still without her ..all faint.

I wish i could hold her then.
say, all those unsaid things..but,
most importantly, i regret
That one more cup of tea...
and dear,if you are reading this..
How about another cup???

Hold my hand......

Hold my hand for once,
and i'll make you mine.
i don't know what to say but
believe me everything is gonna be fine.

So what if i'm not that smart,
a bit hesitant to make a start.
Have patience,
I'll break all barriers and
bring you to the castle of my heart.

Rumors, gossips and murmurs all around,
your smile is what keeps me sound.
I wish i could shut their mouths,
the taunts,the pranks before they get loud.

But how is it possible?
Without causing a bit of trouble.
The things u said with your eyes,
u want me to believe they were lies.
I know it's difficult
May be to you, an insult.
But to me you are my pride.
The cause of the frisson inside.

Give me that one clue.
And i'll turn all the reds blue.
Just one step, and i'll hold u in my arms.
Pick u up, and vanish all your pain and harms.

look, between infatuation and love
there is a very thin line.
If you cross that, i promise....
I'll hold your hands n make u mine.

I am Waiting.......

Again i'm back, back to my place,
Fast, pacy,lively as ever, it is
But there seems a conspicous unrest
a race, an unending race to say
has engulfed it's serenity.
Monotonous in spirit,
Azoic in conduct.

As i moved on, i saw
A docile ricksaw being bullied by a contumacious benz,
A meagre scooter being abused by a massive lorry,
A miserable hawker getting slapped by a mighty cop.
A hooligan mob or a bunch of rowdies???
I couldn't decide.

Can't we just rest for a while,
Take a deep breath
Hold our hands,listen to each other.
Make way for each other, be polite
and cross the bumpy road...

Turn off all the engines,
Put the lights off
Let the corner tree breathe for a while
and the road unwrinkle itself.
liberate morality from mindless fanaticism.
Let the red be red
and the blue be blue......

Am i advocating Inactivity?
I don't think so..
I just want us to be our trueself
Let us be complementary
rather than being competitive..
give space to our contemperories
Perhaps,
we can take a cue from nature.
Always still, silent but progressive
Each bird, each leaf and each husk,
Betting for each other..
Let us be the same........

I may be asking for too much, or
I may sound irrational, non-progressive,or
you can say i am a dreamer, but
As a poet , this is what i do..
I dream.
Let us all share this dream and
Move forward....
I have taken the first step,
How far behind are you?

Hurry up !!!
I am Waiting.....................

RED IS LIFE........

Charismatic, vibrant,bright and true,
Seldom you find a more perfect hue..

Painted socialism,Inspired humanity..
Full of love ,devoid of vanity.

Flush in anger or blush with cheer...
Night and day ,it guides us like a seer..

The pages of history or prophecies of future..
Red is imbibed in them like "betting in a punter"
soviets were red and so was Hitler...
Doesn't matter who perished,red emerged the winner..

All are Red,
Alive or dead.
Red is Revolution,
Red is emotion.
Red drives me and Red drives the world,
In our veins, it is tightly held.
You lose that and you're gone,
Be a red and move on...

Red is 'you' and Red is 'me'
That is my friend,life's biggest irony.

Devil or Deity, Prince or a pauper..
Red is in weak and Red is in power..

Whether create new pathways or create hindrance..
it is for sure,that reds make all the difference..

So my friends, flip the coin..
You have no choice but to join..
becoz, doesn't matter ...tail or head
both are red........
whether you agree or disagree
Red is our common pedigree

Sun rises Red and sets in Red's guile
In between these two reds, All we Reds toil..
Don't bog down by hardships and strife ...
Celebrate Red as you celebrate life..
Just keep this mantra alive...

" Life is RED and RED is life."

A Mathematical Uncertainity...

Can you count the number of times you've crossed me
And divide it by the times you've disrespected me
Then multiply that by the times you hurt me
And come with a figure ??????

Relatively Speaking it is a simple equation
Resulting in a drastic re-calculation of the outcome.

Can you give me the square root of the problem
That started this whole conundrum
And tally up the results and give me a statistical
Analysis comparing the amount of you left me wondering why i'm
On this Earth
Or if i'm not worthy of trust ??????

I know the answer would be an indeterminate form,
After all,this is what has been your norm !!

I believe the right course of action would be to
Figure out the base and height of the love triangle
You thought i wouldn't notice and in case you didn't know it,
I"m good at "TRIGONOMETRY"

Because for me,
Who came into this problem with total devotion and a faithful
Trust,
This problem doesn't
Add up.................................

The sand of time.........

In life
When things go haywire,
and the water of resilience is unable
to put off " Pain-fire ".

Pour some sand,
The sand of time,

because sometimes a grain of sand is mightier
than a sea of water.
After all it is the sand that is
the destination of every wave of water.


what we see as a havoc
is nothing but a mere outburst of senses
what one gets depends on
how one uses his 'perception-lenses"

Time is a great healer,
so give "the Time".... some time
because no one can hold in one's hand
neither the sand nor the time.

THE DAY I DIE ...........my dedication to life's greatest mystery "death"

In the dream last night,
the heavens told me in all their might
that this is the day i am gonna die.
after which it is all bye bye...

I woke up on time,
With spirits fine...
thinking that whatever happens,i'll make most of this day,
to those whom i have given anguish,i'll give some hay

I went for the morning walk..
i kissed every flower on my path..
bidding the birds ,the puppys and the wet grass a last goodbye,
I thought god! why it is me only??? why ?

Then i went to my neighbouring uncle mr sharma,
whose window panes had to suffer a lot of our "cricketing trauma"
I apologised and he forgave me for everything,
honestly it was mighty relieving.

But there is one place that i never want to leave..
and that is of course,my school
where my soul lies, i believe
i told my friends to forgive me for my mistakes,
enemies to bury old grudges,
And apologised to teachers giving them some solace.

finally,i didn't have courage to tell my mother,
so i scribbled down everything on a piece of paper,
"Mom i love you the most,
you are the best thing that god ever gave me
mamma ,for all my mistakes forgive me
i have never given you enough but thanks for all you have given
Death can never scare me because as you say,
i am your brave son!
I don't know what the almighty has for me ,"hell" or "heaven"..
i don't care about hell but if there is a slight chance of heaven,
Then let him give me back to you ,
because for me...
you are my heaven.
you are my heaven""....

I kept the paper under my pillow and waited for the last fight
between life and death
i knew death had to win
but i wasn't afraid rather there was a satisfaction inside.
because atleast i got the chance to correct my mistakes and die with pride.

and then i didn't know when i fell asleep
as i woke up,i was not in some hell or heaven but in my bed sheet.

I was amazed to see me alive
it was just a dream and nothing live...
but it taught me a lesson
that.....

If you want to get the taste of life
live everyday as the final day of your life.......
and all your problems will soon flow away
believe me it's a meagre price to pay

you will see that you will always fly in the happy sky,
that's the reason why i say the happiest day in my life would be
the day i die
the day i die.................

I am a poet..............

words are my weapon
readers are my strength
i am not a warrior, but
a poet my friend.

so let me fly
in the thoughtful sky
so that i can write
to everybody's delight.

i am not a reformist,
but passionate about society,
it doesn't matter if it changes or not........
i will still work for what is my priority.

so at last i offer you a place
in this critical phase
join me and write whatever you can,
because it doesn't take much but just a heart in little pain..........

My First Shave

Happy birthday my son!
Was the call from the almighty one.
"i have brought a gift for you
preserve it for years to come"

I woke up in anticipation,
Only to get frightened by an uneasy notion,
hard to believe but it was true,
But there was nothing that i could do.

Oh! God in lieu of which of my sin,
you gave me this tinge of beard on my chin.
cursing him was only i could do,
As it spread like the bird flu.

From a tiny straw ,it grew to a bush
Adding fuel to my parents' constant push,
Not once,twice but thrice
they hurled on me their favourite advice

Come on son be brave
Have your first shave......

The thought of using a razor,
like a horrible dream was the cause major,
Those cuts, scars and bruises on my dad's face,
Made me feel as if shaving was a bitter disgrace.

They grow -you shave,you shave -they grow
A funny tit for tat show.

well things went by and the time came,
when it became harder to figure my role in this nature's game.

I was lying low with nothing new,
shattered with having sympathisers very few,
It was then my dad came to my rescue,
With his ever formadible and enchanting view,

come on son Be brave
Have your first shave......

He sermoned ,
i listened,
"My son,this beard is the fear within you,
A disgrace for manhood that you have to attend to.

It reminds everytime it grows ,
That the animal is still within you.
Physical scars and bruises become meaningless,
when you enjoy the mental satisfaction winning gives you.
Every one is not gifted as we men my boy ,
Because it is a problem which only we men can attend to.

So take up the razor and have fun,
so that this world can see that you are a man my son!

all my apprehensions went by,
As i got my answer why ?
We fought this battle of disgrace ,
Only to establish that we are a human race..

And finally i did what for me was once impossible,
A mark of complete mess and trouble,
Hard to describe in words what it gave?
But really it was a lifetime experience to have " my first shave"