Some good stuff!
Some stuff we stashed in this tome...
I couldn’t kiss you.
I couldn’t kiss you -
Because you were too close.
I have a broken sail and a roaring sea.
My Herculean muscles
And this feeble oar.
Kudos to Neeraja for locating this. We co-authored this one too back in the day…
Once upon a time there lived a boy called Obel
Who dreamed of getting a Nobel
So, he started on his journey
On his way he met Roni
And his path was no longer stony.
Read the rest »
Anshul and I wrote this back in our ISI Bangalore days…
There was this boy called Obelisk
Whose life was like a compact disc.
He thought that dreams were black and white,
And on this, with Neeraja he had a fight.
When silence snakes through in black coils
filling its dark womb with the world,
when the sounds of thought have faded
into the stillborn night,
You are sitting next to her. Her fragrance reaches you, and you can tell there is some exotic scent on. You are explaining to her some dumb Newtonian equation the solution to which you think she knows already. She is all smiles and excited. You can notice each vibration in her voluptuous body, and perhaps she can in yours too.
In the medieval times, it was natural for someone to expect being called chivalrous or virtuous. However, today virtue is heavily out of fashion and it has become natural for people to expect others to call them creative and in the absence of such generous words, to claim that they are so. I am no exception to this general trend but unfortunately, I belong to the second class (i.e. people who have not found anyone to recognize the creative fires that they claim to be blazing in them).
Whether or not Love is a commendable virtue remains one of the most debated issues in our popular movies. Much has been made of the necessity and the futility of love. But we, the young people of the middle class, still remain fascinated by it because of our necessity to define our individuality by the entertainment products we consume. That is why this is a love story.
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