THE CURE

Restive thoughts no more resist to shuttle,
Choices made now seem picks from a shuffle.

Push them away, it only gathers to grow,
A hushed voice is now an avalanche of roar.

The tricked mind seeks confirmation within,
From places people and even superstition.

But no word calms and no sight defines,
The churns that are loud as echoes in mines.

So seized a new sheet and an ignored pen,
Scattered anxious words from start to end.

The clock now ticks slower, answers reach the mind,
Rhyming lines is all it took to find.

Smilent Treatment

Mr Lal. A Management student. Description? Tall. Dark. Intelligent. Weakness? Cant speak long sentences. Made fun of.
Month of April. Class Viva. 4 minutes per student. Topic? Abstract.
Students speak. Interesting topics. Dot. Black. Cross. Tissue. Death. Curve. The letter K.
Lal’s turn. Minute one. Smiles. Doesn’t speak. Students laugh.
Minute two. Smiles some more. Not one word. Teacher laughs. Mocks.
Minute three. Smiles the widest. Lips sealed. Uproar.
Minute four. Utters. “Smile. Contagious isn’t it”. Chuckles.

Owner Beware!

This is the absolute story of my Vodka Bottle and the gradual disappearance of its content.

An almost empty Absolut; in my closet it lie,

Half filled with memories; rest yet to espy.

Call it a demanding gift; call it a bottle of strength,

An out of range friend; gave it on an unexpected consent.

Flashed its silver armour before a dive to fly,

And it sparkled and twinkled without a night sky.

I unsealed the glass figure with a concealed pride,

“Its Cheers to the people in the room!” we cried.

With strummed music to drink; and magic potions to hear,

A Baker’s dozen swayed with peculiar head gear.

A quarter was soon under my stable custody,

The one third empty statue mocked “You’re a slave to me”.

At the crack of dawn; it was closing time to indulge,

Saw the mould hug its image on a mirrored ledge.

A grave negligence to leave it unguarded and free,

To find it guzzled in few days; by unwanted company.

Two thirds gone; said the pessimist in me,

Still wishful to recover; sighed “Who could it be?”

Now in a cabinet safe from harm it lies night and day,

I guess best possessions are better tucked away.

Status affairs!

Some interesting Facebook status messages apt for a particular person at a particular time!

A bored reckless chauffeur.
is err-relevantly studying faces in parking lots.

A stunned Dave Mathews Band fan.
is DMBstruck!

A nervous probable MBA student.
is sensing a CATalytic CATastrophe.

A vengeful movie buff.
is Jacks smirking revenge.

A narcissist windows media player user.
is even better than the REAL thing.

An anti gay activist in United States.
is condoming bushy activities.

An adventurous stock market trader.
is having SENsationalSEX at 20,000 feet.

A God–fearing hooker.
is not only for the ones who kneel, luckily!

A frustrated husband.
is damning you, and damning broccoli!

A famished Disc Jockey.
is turning tables for a Mixican delight.

A classic prankster.
is right behind you, Boo!

A depressed weather reporter.
is partly cloudy with a 30% chance of rain.

The outbreak of a suppressed worker working in a garment industry.
is refusing to be a fool dancing on the strings held by all of those big shorts.

A euphoric Fiancé.
is with Lucy in the Sky of Diamonds.

An indecent business proposal.
is now on “you're in the gettin'-fucked-by-me business”

Public displays of “affection”

Until a few days ago, I regarded the term public display of affection (PDA) only as a verb symbolizing fond attachment, devotion, or love in real public places. Yesterday evening I logged onto Facebook to find myself hugged, slapped, winked, pinched, cheered and sucker punched in front of 122 people soon after my status message echoed “Richa Singhal is all that you scheme, all that you create, all that you wreck and all that you hate”. Suddenly I felt the term PDA has evolved into the feeling aspect (as in pleasure or displeasure) of consciousness in virtual public venues too! So the next time you yearn for some “widespread affection” think again! You might just get some “published attention” which may or may not be pleasant!

Roger That!

After exchanging my music preferences with a very witty articulate and young at heart Gentleman, I receive this mail from him the following morning:

Roger Waters wrote this in memory of his late father who was with the Royal Fusiliers Company C and actually died in the War. This song wasn't included in the album The Wall, but the movie by Alan Parker incorporated it in two parts...wonder if you have seen that cult movie...!
When The Tigers Broke (Pink Floyd)
http://music.yahoo.com/Pink-Floyd/When-The-Tigers-Broke-Free/lyrics/2130682

To which my reply was:

Yes I did watch the movie The Wall, it is really dark and at times suffocating and I almost choked in a few scenes. The lyrics are very stirring I must say. No wonder Roger Waters detests war. I simply love his composition, Leaving Beirut
Leaving Beirut (Roger Waters)
http://www.roger-waters.com/lyricsbeirut.html

The following day I receive a text from him:
When I read that mail, I thought you were leaving FOR Beirut! :)

I chuckled and replied:
When I read your mail, I thought you ran away from the Zoo! :)

P.S. Do view the thought provoking lyrics of these two songs.

Good Reddance!

Josef Albers (German-born American Abstract Painter and Designer. 1888-1976)
"If one says 'Red' – the name of color – and there are fifty people listening, it can be expected that there will be fifty reds in their minds. And one can be sure that all these reds will be very different."

My Red Wagon R halts at the red signal and I see myself fenced by a BEST bus, a Vodafone hoarding and a KFC joint. I abruptly grasp that I am under a red attack! This was sufficient to trigger a series of thoughts in my mind on how RED has been such an assorted aspect of my life.

10 years ago I cried myself to sleep after seeing a fail mark on my reportcard.

6 years ago I celebrated my first “grand” News Years at Navy Nagar with Infrared.

5 years ago I needed ketchup with everything to eat, learnt that Satan/ Devil/ Number of Beast is depicted as color red and fumed when my sister wouldn’t get off the phone.

4 years ago I celebrated Chinese New Year for 3 consecutive years in Singapore and collected cash in red packets and watched Baywatch religiously for the male Lifeguards.

2 years ago I joined the (Red) Organization created by Paul Hewson aka Bono.

Until a year ago, I cheered for Ferrari and was in dismay in the 110th minute of the FIFA World Cup final against Italy, when Zidane was showed a red card for deliberately headbutting Marco Materazzi in the chest.

11 months ago I had the best Smirn off experience.

6 months ago I dined at Red Box.

A month ago I celebrated the Victory of the Indian Cricket team in the T20 World Cup Final against Pakistan as soon as Misbah-ul-Haq got out.

A week ago I downloaded all the songs from the U2 album -Under the Blood red Sky.

Recently I was very embarrassed when my Dad read an “inappropriate” chat conversation.

Yesterday I switched on the Television to see Pakistan under Red alert.

After an hour, on CNBC I witnessed Sensex in the Red.

Every morning, I make sure that I turn the red labeled faucet for my shower.

I need chili flakes with my Pizza.

The sight of blood makes me nauseous.

I simply adore Garfield.

My Zodiac Sign is Taurus – The Bull.

I see red everywhere when I am in love.

I enter the elevator to go down only to get elevated.

I always buy Levis Jeans for its red tab.

I end/avoid calls too often by using the red button on my phone.

I watch the red carpet every year held at the Oscars.

I am made to apply vermilion on my forehead every Diwali.

I Love the band Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I can listen to UB40’s red red wine on repeat.

I am a frequent flyer with Indian Airlines, Kingfisher and Spice Jet.

I have started celebrating Valentines Day, World Aids Day and Christmas every year.

I wish to experiment Red Bull with Vodka.

Finally the signal turned green! Phew!

BENADDICT

One of my close friend is absolutely crazy about Ben Affleck. This is what a conversation with her would be like!

Stranger: How have you been?
Her: I have BEN fine

Stranger: What is your full name?
Her: BENtely BENegal

Stranger: Which caste do you belong to?
Her: BENgali

Stranger: Where do you stay?
Her: BENgaluroo

Stranger: What are you doing there?
Her: BENch warming

Stranger: So which is your favorite Movie?
Her: BENhur

Stranger: Which is your favorite music band?
Her: BEN folds five

Stranger (Now irritated): Favorite Ice-cream?
Her: BEN and Jerry’s

Stranger: Favorite Brand?
Her: BENetton

Stranger: Favorite Car?
Her: Mercedes BENz

Stranger (Now trying to be smart): What is your take on Yoga?
Her: It is BENeficial

Stranger: What do you do when you are sick?
Her: I gulp BENedryl

Stranger (Now pissed) Cant you think of anything but Ben!?
Her: You need a smoke..BENson and Hedges?

Stranger (Walks off and swears) :BENc**d
Her: Now you are getting it :)

Face Your Fears!

Somehow the image of blood and flesh with a painful background score always flashes in front of my eyes whenever I hear the word ‘Operation’. Recently my grand mom underwent a hip operation and I was told to be in “charge” of Operation:Recovery and my vision blurred once again.

So I walk into Wockhardt Hospital at 8 am and I find myself in an elevator with an exceptionally wrinkled man who is weighed down by a life support system and wheeled by a tall nurse. I try to ignore the details and stop myself from calculating the pain the almost unconscious old man would experience if not for the drugs. The constant opening and shutting of the elevator at every level diverted my attention successfully but urged the nurse to start a conversation with me.

Nurse: Kisse Milne Ayee Ho?
Me: Meri Grandmother Se

Nurse: Kya Hua Unhe?
Me: Hip Joint Dislocation

Nurse: Operation Kiya Hoga Phir
Me: Haan, Thikh Tha

Nurse: Acha Hai, Inko Dekho (Runs her hand over the man’s shoulder). Inhe Gangrene Ho Gaya Tha. Amputation Karaya Aur Ab Nakli Taang Lagayenge…

I instantly looked at his feet which was now just a foot. I choked and pushed the button 4 frantically. Finally I made it to room number 436, saw my grand mom smile at me and settled myself besides her. A few minutes later I hear her and this other lady (benefits of twin sharing room I tell you) who underwent a Thyroid Gland Removal Operation exchange their mortal combat in the Operation Theatre!