Wednesday, October 24, 2007


“Come on, I am going out on a limb here”, he urged with an expression on his face which was a cross between a smile and a smirk. He had spent the better part of the evening waiting for the right moment to go talk to the lady sitting across his table by the window. She seemed like the perfect prey; an air of prosperity tinged with a hint of vulnerability, in control but just, and more importantly, alone. He could sense these things now, as if a divine eye had blessed him with an ability to see through the mask that people called a face. He had watched her intently like a hawk, staring out the window, sipping her coffee, checking her watch. Whoever it was that was supposed to have shown up hadn’t done so.

“May I?” he asked, and before she could answer, sat on the seat next to her watching her startled expression. The words followed. The gentle beseeching, the tough affirmations, the unspoken realm conjured by his moving hands. She had to fall for it. She never realized how her own expressions started to intensify the scene. The discomfort gave way to curiosity, then to apprehension, and finally terror as her fingers involuntarily reached for her cheek. In two minutes, it was over. He had her. As per plan. He stormed away from the coffee shop with a broad smile. While passing a car parked on the curb, he didn’t notice its rear view mirror. He would have seen a lady sitting by the window, alone, staring at a little white tube. Anti-aging cream.

Friday, October 19, 2007

It Just Stopped Raining

All that remain
Are a few drops on my window
Of nature’s furious dance

The grey recedes
And white emerges
In a graceful arc

I watch in glee
A giant kaleidoscope
Turn by itself

P.S> From my very same office I mentioned here. Make do with these inept descriptions till I bring my camera around.

Friday, October 05, 2007

Agony Of A Protagonist

He talks of it
As if it were

As if my world
Never did really

And I never
Saved it in

P.S> Since this poem is not intuitive, here goes. The perspective I wanted to put forth was that of a protagonist of a story. "He" refers to the author. It is a about the protagonists' belief that he is real, for to him, his world is.