Chennai Superkings have started off like RCB this season
Bengaluru, regardless, appears the same RCB this season

CSK has begun with losing two out of their first six games.
Hereupon, can CSK run this race like 2016 RCB this season?

No score, however huge, feels safe, courtesy their bowling
KXIP promises to step into the shoes of RCB this season.

How can they chain a beast like Gayle and make him sit?
Doesn't Punjab yearn to bat like classic RCB this season?

'RCB bowlers are all guns blazing'- a distant dream now.
Can Ab-Virat duo trade them back to 2016 RCB this season?

MI? Ahh! What to debate? Poised batting-sharp bowling.
Well, I see Mumbai axing it again, unlike RCB, this season

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I wish I could verbalise
The devout love I hold for you.
Blessings do come flying
Angels do exist, I never knew.

You loved me like a son in a world so mean
It's so dreamily unreal to be a heart so clean.
No matter how much I try
I can't festoon you in words.
Nor narrate you in adjectives
Through and thoroughly more you deserve.

Preparing Birthday card for a stature like you
Is never easy and going, you don't even have a clue.
I just wish to be in your blessings for a life
Hema ma'am, I pay my deferential obeisances unto you.

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I love writing but a little hesitant to reveal
Walk in the shadow of metaphors, try to conceal.
Pour the heart out but in the cloak of allusion.
and the elusive style adds to the readers' confusion.

Sometimes I sit in my melancholic Jeep and set out
through the boulevards of imageries on a journey
when suddenly the passive road encounters an
oxymoron and the path becomes a little jerky.

In mirth, my heart showers rhythms in consonance
and then my merriment and alliteration is in resonance.
The showers of gaiety splash, onomatopoeia tells the sound.
Irony walks along with me, satire is always around.

The pen becomes lively and in it the ink personifies
Allegories are humane, whenever they come, they humanize.
Synesthesia puts all the barriers between senses to an end
Sarcasms are little close but everyone is a good friend.

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Ego is a vulture that feeds upon your mind.
Poisons your senses whilst turning you blind.
Splendor shine, Raven bird, mizzles your vision first.
Your shadow walks ahead of you and you're left behind.

Clutching tight in it's claws, it rips through your heart.
Taking hold of your chest, it tears your soul apart.
The vulture spreads it's wings before you even know.
This ego radiates very bright, it slowly kills you though.

You feel you'll die with it? No, it'll leave you before you leave.
But by then you're torn, you're broken, you're bitterly bereaved.

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Crowds from different parts come in swarms in Bengaluru.
Kempegowda welcomes everyone with open arms in Bengaluru.

Heavy downpour during monsoon is a reserved routine in Lucknow
But sudden unmetered showers are quite an alarm in Bengaluru.

Summer sizzles as the scorching Sun scathes skin in Lucknow.
But hails and drizzles never let it become too warm in Bengaluru.

People with all likeliness live together with warmth in Lucknow.
But you get to see people from all walks and realms in Bengaluru.

Shuddering cold and scorching summer is a trademark in Lucknow.
But milieu always promises the evenings to be Assam in Bengaluru.

Gomti Riverfront is a hushed place to sit back and relax in Lucknow
And so is Sankey Tank, a place of tranquility and calm in Bengaluru.

Although there's no place that could ever make you feel like Lucknow
Yet the zephyr of breeze pulls you strong in the charm in Bengaluru.

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Even when we lay cold, we'll be
holding each other in reverie.
We may burn, we may bury
But we can't get past these memories.

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This time will become a history when we'll be old,
Hair turned gray, blood cold, and no more bold.
Kids and young then, would come to me, keeping their works aside
Listen to the legends of my life with their mouths open wide.
Then this heart shall brim with joy, smiling in pride
Narrating the folklores of my life with gleaming eyes.
When this worn out sole of my shoe would cross my mind
For the days I burned my youth, taking long strides.
Then the tears of joy would well up from the corners of my eyes.
Reminiscing my journey of life like a roller coaster ride.
And in my final days, I'd surely not want the demons
of remorse to haunt my mind and dance by my side.
As then I can't trade back into past even if I bribe.
So let me irrigate my field with my blood, offer my sweat and tears
to my youth before these moments sublime and I turn fragile, for
I only wish to harvest delight when I travel back in my history of time.

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It's been a long road since you both first met.
In the beaming gaze, a strong love was expressed.
Bumpy roads, rainy days could not waver this love.
With each passing year, kept rising high and above.
The memories of those times won't ever lose it's shine.
Those times, that mirth still resound like chimes.
So spreading colours of your journey on this canvas,
Not all this time, keeping some colours safe for the next time.
The road ahead is yet to be travelled in the journey divine
On a hundred more jubilees, for you, I'll be writing a rhyme.

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When the world is so busy, no one has time.
You make sure everytime to ask me if I'm fine.
In the cold nights, when hope seems out of sight
You're there for me, always, to fill me up with light.
I curse my words today which my vocabulary lacks
To reciprocate in gratitude for holding my back.
Spirituality, your weapon and empathy thou shield.
Everytime you talk to me, you set my soul free.
You are an angel spreading fragrance around.
Rewarded I feel to meet a person like thee.
Hope my wishes bring your birthday more glee.
Durga Ma'am, you're truly special to me.

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At night, I measure time
Being chased by the mortality of life.
I dream a lot, I fear a lot, at night
When the haunted memories from past
Sever through me like sharp knives.
They appall me with scythes in their hands
In the endless tunnel sans any ray of light,
Where my soul keeps lurching at the tune of the past
To see the shrapnel of the future and it's grim plight.
The past mocks me like a demolished town.
The gloomy future stares me into my eyes.
Was I just carving out my path into doom?
Or is this how the itinerary had been laid?
For I burned my bridges down, did some mistakes
Or did I leave the road ahead, bright once, to fade?
And only if I could retrieve the bygone days
I could fill the void up with bright shining rays.
But at night, I measure time
Being chased by the morbidity of life.

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