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A bar, a story and some rum in-between

This tale is of two strangers who met in a bar one night
What can I say… it was love at first sight
Perhaps the rum helped, in retrospect they agree,
In each other’s company, that night, they felt free

He was a young lad, single but shy
She a wild girl, always ready to fly
Rum was a common factor along with friends
A story started that night, perhaps joining two broken ends

He wasn’t perfect, still sought love true…
She too was imperfect, had her share of breakups few…
That night they talked, a conversation that lasted too long
Connecting two hearts like two stanzas of the same song

Thus, stories are made, over chance meetings few,
Some are re-written by writers, some lost with no clue
This story survived, a glimpse I wrote tonight,
What can I say… it was love at first sight

Just some quotes reproduced….

“There I was, cold, isolated and desperate for something I knew I couldn’t have.
A solution. A remedy. Anything.
…I hated it. Alone and confused was the last place I wanted to be.
Somehow I knew I deserved this.”
― Brian Krans


“…at such moments of extreme panic and anguish you do manage that trick with time: you are at last free from the illusion that time is linear.
In panic, time stops: past, present and future exist as a single overwhelming force. You then, perversely, want time to appear to run forwards because the ‘future’ is the only place you can see an escape from this intolerable overload of feeling. But at such moments time doesn’t move. And if time isn’t running, then all events that we think of as past or future are actually happening simultaneously. That is the really terrifying thing. And you are subsumed. You’re buried, as beneath an avalanche, by the weight of simultaneous events.”
― Sebastian Faulks, Engleby

A rhyme he wrote again

A rhyme he wrote again,
My writer friend, Mr. “Insane”
He wrote lines random, made no sense,
Just to express his thoughts, a random pretense

He wanted to express thoughts too many,
Tried talking to ‘friends’, heard him none, if any…
His thoughts weren’t all grim, some were positive too,
He sought resurrection, made failed attempts few…

He was a writer too grim, yet had some hope left,
In the darkness that loomed, the thought of light wasn’t bereft
He too hoped for a way, to set things right,
He too imagined a dawn, that will swept away his dark night

Someday, sometime.. on a different day, a different year,
His troubles will seem a matter of the past, he will have no fear
He will find love, he will find peace, he will find his life,
Which seems lost now, he will grow out of this strife

The writer may be grim, but his heart is true
He may be abandoned by people, his friends few
Still he survives, struggles, and will live on…
Reshaping his fate, his destiny, setting right every wrong

Someday, sometime, on a different day, a different year,
His troubles will seem a matter of past, he will have no fear
He will be loved, and not hated, the way he feels now
His troubled thoughts, his emotions, he will outgrow somehow.

For in words he sought his destiny…
In words he forged his life…
In words he tried to rewrite tales
Old snippets minus the strife…

Through words, his writings, an attempt he made, 
To express thoughts, his musings, that will fade..
Through words, an escape he sought,
From a constant battle of thoughts that he always fought…

On a winter’s night

On a winter’s night…

A writer tries to write…

What? … He has no clue…

In random words… he rhymes lines few…


A thought bothering him…

Making him grim..

In words he seeks a solution

Perhaps a new resolution


To be happy constantly… is not practical ….he knows

But he will try to seek…a silver lining…in his woes…

For every corner need not be another dead end,

For sometimes there are hidden turns, beyond the obvious bend…


The night may seem dark…. darkest then ever,

But this state will not remain, the night will not last forever..

This dark phase too, like others, he will survive…

After a grim night, a bright new day too will arrive……..

A traveler traveled… (incomplete)

Seeking Peace…a wanderer wandered many ways..
And so passed random nights… so passed random days..
The traveler traveled through time to seek experiences new,
See more of the world.. capture it in images and words few…

The Pious Man

Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava always went for a morning walk at 7:30 everyday in their locality. Their walk commenced from their house crossing the street outside to the adjoining street. From that street a turn around the corner passing the local school and another turn passing the local temple. The walk ended at a park where they spent the next one hour before returning home. Ever since Mr. Srivastava had retired, this was their daily routine.

That tuesday too they were on their routine walk. While approaching the park Mr. Srivastava noticed a young lad, bare footed walking in the direction of the temple. He was dressed in a semi-formal attire, half sleeve white shirt which could be worn both for office and casual use and a black trouser with belt.

“Strange” Mr. Srivastava remarked. “What?” asked Mrs. Srivastava.

“You see that man walking towards the temple. I have seen that lad quite a few times in our previous walks, everytime he is dressed reasonably well but walks barefooted.” said Mr. Srivastava. Mrs. Srivastava just nodded in acknowledgement, “Yes, strange indeed.”

The next day again, during the walk, the young man was passing by, when Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava were entering the park. Regular faces now, he gave them a smile as a sign of greeting. Mr. Srivasatava couldn’t hold back his curiosity and asked him, “ Hello, young lad. What’s your name?”

He said his name was Ramesh. A casual conversation ensued, in which Mr. Srivasatva got to know that Ramesh was new to that locality, having arrived from his village a few days back and was presently searching for a job. Mr. Srivastava asked where he was headed to and he said he was going to the temple. As the conversation continued, Mr. Srivastava asked him why he was going bare footed.

Ramesh smiled and said that he had resolved that he would start his day by going to the temple barefooted and praying for a job as well as a  good daily wage for that day. This was his “mannat”. His day went really well and he able to make ends meet due to this, he said. Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava were moved by the young man’s firm belief in God.

“Such a pious man !” Mrs. Srivastava remarked as they saw Ramesh walk away towards the temple.


Ramesh entered the temple. He went towards the idol and prayed to God, “Oh Lord, forgive me and bless me. Please provide a good ‘branded’ product today.” He bowed and offered Rs. 2.5 in the ‘daan-peti’.

Ramesh stepped out and saw the footwear lying outside the temple. Chappals, Sandals, Shoes.. all were there. He noticed a seemingly new pair of “Nike” sneakers. They looked expensive.
“Good Brand ! Thank you Lord !” he remarked and smiled. Silently he wore those shoes in the most casual manner and left the temple. Today too he will earn his daily bread by selling the shoes and also add some money to his savings for a change…

Time ticked away…

And as time ticked away… many tales did too…
Of characters random… some lasted long.. some had snippets few…
Some endings were incomplete.. Some were complete but felt wrong…
The tales were short… But life is long…

Another high will pass.. so will.. another low..
Life moves on.. and so on one will go…

New tales…new characters…new plots too
New drama to add some spice… emotions new…
And so will be set right everything that now seems wrong..
These tales too will be short.. but they will add to a life too long…

For now rhyming wasn’t easy…

Poetry wasn’t that, what he wrote for her…
It was that, what he lived with her…

There’s was a tale – of words few.. not too long,
Just a few simple walks, silent conversations, short moments now gone…

Rhymes were his way to remember those moments now…
Random outburst of nostalgic thoughts.. written in words somehow…

He wasn’t that good with rhymes… he knew.. anyone could tell…
For now rhyming wasn’t easy.. like him.. his thoughts felt incomplete as well.

For sometimes in a simple walk… one re-lives moments many
Many old memories resurfaced.. many new memories made…
A walk by the sea could make one lose oneself to the sound of the waves..
Living like eternity.. simple moments.. that will soon fade…



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