He was my ex from a decade ago.
I wonder why
That face is so similar
To my girlfriend's.
Siblings?!

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Dear Ma ke Haath Ki Banayi Roti,
You were there for me all my along my childhood. Accompanying dal or achar... when I did well in something, Ma'd bring you clad in a sheen of ghee. I never liked the ghee though...
I never regarded you as something exclusive...
Used to be crazy for pepperoni pizza and biryani... kind of always.
My hostel days were initially filled with nightmares of rotis...
They often felt like anything between a torn piece of stone-washed denim to small wooden frisbee disk in my tongue.
My cheeks used to bleed sometimes by their assault... But then I was a stubborn brat who refused to acknowledge your simplicity.
We took to ordering in, when later I shifted to the P.G: Biryani,Bhature,Chowmien... Soon our food expenses started eating our pockets. Along with the food, 'Pudin Hara' became a constant side dish.
I got my job and started living on my own. To cut down expenses, I thought about cooking my food myself...
My expeditions used to start at the kitchen and end up at bottles of Savlon and tubes of Burnol. Of late I've switched to sandwiches.
My dear Ma ke Haath Ki Banayi Roti,
I long for you...
Take care,
I love you.

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Ronita,
I miss the way the house smells
when you are there.
Wish you were...

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An old couple walking hand in hand.
Or a baby's toothless smile
Or tears that well up in the eyes
recounting a happy while.
The reunion
of the favourite dog-eared book
with a coffee mug half full...
and
the clattering rain on the window pane
Or
the morning since when
Cricket, Tennis, Soccer or music
matches
Are the only religious wars fought
to save lives,
and laughter.
Or the day
Where you
can be you
Without fear

-

Don't want to sound
Like an old wife
Disgruntled with her life!

-

Trapped inside her heart
some letters bubbled for light
She walked...
Ahead.

-

Battling
Rattles
And
Kettles
Full of
Tittle tattle.

-

Your eyes,
Wild yet sombre
Make me forget
I have the oar.

-

come to believe that
When God's off duty,he can't help.
Parents are grownup babies who make mistakes. Often.
Judgemental people wear "Equality" and "Care" and "Fraternity" as their wig.
Politics is all about how to avoid doing the right thing at the right time.
Deaths don't affect anyone.
There ARE people who value books before looks.

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Not only human, but like family members. In fact chairs mostly resemble mothers... always ready to hold us in her lap, whenever we feel tired or feel like lazing around. Chairs, unlike family members are not judgy. They don't ask you why you spent a day lazing. Or why... in spite of your relentless 'yoga' video watch, you added a few more... pounds.
Was it the popcorn?
Chairs don't call you inhuman when you slide them hard, and their legs start screeching. Chairs never ask you if you are qualified to sit on them. Neither do they complain if people ask you so.
They don't answer when someone questions 'the chair'. They don't speak up when the 'chair is held responsible'.
YET, such is their charisma, they make people love, lust, craze, gaze, fight, spite, blame, defame, play game,trap, and a do a lot of other crap...

JUST FOR THEM!

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