Tag Archive: Death

An ode to Gautam Buddha

A prince in south Asia once,
Craved answers to questions many, didnt get a chance
Kept away for years from plight and sickness of many
He grew up, oblivious of troubles any

Until one day he saw sickness and death
Saw tears everywhere, old people he met
It troubled him a lot, what use were riches and pleasures of life
When death was an ultimate… old age and sickness for all was a common strife

How will then one find peace ?
How will one put a mind at ease ?
Bothered with these questions he left home,
In search of answers he began to roam.

Found renowned teachers, learned a lot
But still more answers he always sought
Atlast he meditated under a tree
Over there he was able to finally set his mind free

Won over his desires, was free from them all,
Jealousy, Anger, Greed, Fear, Lust and every troubled thought that could lead to one’s fall
A changed mind then.. led to a changed man,
Who changed the world around him, helped whoever he can

“You are.. what you believe you are !”, he said
Simple words, but profound effect they had
And so was born a messenger of peace
A saint who helped people put their minds at ease

Revered as a God, he was the best psychologist of his time,
Molded minds many, made even a killer shun crime
His teachings to this day are relevant infact,
Best practices always have the same impact!

And so ends a tale of the man who mastered the workings of a mind
Leading many ahead on the path to peace, losing all their pain behind !

An ode to Gautam Buddha – A prince, a warrior, a saint, a psychologist, a leader, a philosopher, a religious preacher and also a God !


Random writings…


All are disillusioned.. chasing their dreams…
One desires gold.. for another even copper gleams…


Everyone cries.. for what seems the greatest pain…
One faces drought… Another laments rain…


An oneirophobic struggled to sleep another night…
Hoping to find peace in dreams.. and not another fright !


He tried to write a tale too long…
Lost track in between.. wrote it all wrong..

In a cafe at night, he attempted to write another tale,
His words he misspelt, his chain of thoughts would again fail…

He attempted to write.. a perfect beginning.. and a perfect end..
Neither was possible, broken segments of the tale, he had to mend…
That’s the trouble,. he faced as a writer always..
Good stories needed high drama, twisted ways…


He tried to survive a night too cold…
Shivered to death as per the tale retold

His tale was short…with words too less…
The plot hardly mattered.. no one heard it I guess…

He was once a writer…failed at his work…
Unread his writings remained..he just had no luck…

He disappeared that night… gone away forever..
Remembered by none.. as if he existed never…


Another Random Rhyme

And so he writes his last words few
Time to go, bid adieu

Life’s being good or so he says
A journey on unexpected ways

He met people, he made friends
He faced turns, he faced ends.

Time moved on and so did he,
Between bondages many, he tried to be free

And so he moves on with fate,
From life to the next phase, better early then late!!

Nayan Tarse…

12:00 am – 30th January, 2010

Amit wasn’t sleepy that night. He remembered her. The clock struck 12. “Happy Birthday Riya” — he whispered in the silent air. It had been 8 months since they had a break up. He wished that he could “wish” her.  He fought that urge. Everyone was sleeping in the house. He decided to go out for a walk. Grabbing his walkman, he left his house and started walking on the empty road. He was walking towards the beach. He switched through FM channels. He hardly listened to the music. His thoughts were drifted on her. His desire to see her once again. As he tuned into the next station, a song played that matched his thoughts.

“Nayan Tarse… Nayan Tarse

Taras Na Mile… Nayan Tarse….”

He was lost in the music that synched with his thoughts. As he turned round the corner, he failed to see the blue skoda that was ramming towards him in full speed. As the song reached its end… so did Amit.


12:00 am – 30 January, 2010

Raghav bid his friends good bye as he sat in his car. Time for a short drive before going home. His watch showed that it was 12.  “ Belated Happy Birthday Dude!!!” — he wished himself for the umpteenth time that night. He was a little drunk, guess the rum did have an effect on him. As he drove the car, he remembered how the year had passed by since his last birthday. Last year, his birthday was marked by “her” presence. But they had to break up, that was his destiny. Why was he remembering her tonight, he too had moved on like her! He had to distract his mind from her thoughts…he  switched on the radio.

Sigh!! Of all the songs the damn RJ has to play this one

“Saawan Barse .. Saawan Barse

Tapish Ki Phuhaar…Sawaan Barse”

He was lost in the music that synched with his thoughts. As he drove his Skoda towards the corner, he failed to apply the breaks and rammed on to that guy with the walkman & crashed the car ahead in the opposite wall. As the song reached its end… so did Raghav.


“ Bisar Gaye .. Bisar Gaye .. Kitne

Bisar Gaye .. Bisar Gaye .. Kitne

Sunahre Yeh Din, Kaali Raat Mein Gaye Dhal

Raama Raama Raama Raama Re …. “



shahrukh_khan_kal_ho_naa_ho_07 copy

Meet Raj ! The name you must have heard,veer26

A simple town boy, since school a big time nerd !

Introducing Naina, his childhood crush,

Every time he saw her, he would blush !



But Naina loved someone else ! Aww… what fate…

 They were best friends…but in love he was late…

And so his depression…led him to lose his mind…

He didn’t notice that rash driver…coming from behind…

In hospital, was made…a promise to be kept…ssrk

“Rohit , in this life Naina is yours … but in next life and life-long she will be mine…”

And so Raj died…and Naina wept…

But for love stories one lifetime is not enough as they say…

20 years later, Raj returned as Om (Surprise, Surprise!!), one fine day…

And then he searched for Naina … as he remembered her again…

Tried to find her everywhere…but no success… alas he searched in vain…

At last he found her (the climax begins)…she too had been waiting for him…

20 yr old Om met Naina (not too old, only 55 she seemed!)

priety old But will the age difference matter, when their hearts were one…

Rohit was dead long back, so Naina was single… waiting for someone…

The question remains will they unite now or not…

Was Naina indeed the destiny …that Om really sought?

To see where this epic of love ends… do visit theatres this Jan…

And watch “Om Returns Home” starring Shahrukh Khan!!


[Coming soon: Om Returns Home – The Trailer]



Klash’s latest word is Rebirth. (http://klashknk.wordpress.com/)

The great philosopher poet Prof. Richard Devendra Das, who knows it all, finally decided to speak on this mystifying subject of re-incarnation and I was one of the privileged ones to hear his entire speech.

Though his entire speech is worth re-mentioning its too long to fit in the disk space WordPress provides ( far longer than Mahesh Bhatt’s uninterrupted speech).

Therefore I re-produce here (with permission and lots of royalty paid) the most important part of his poetic philosophical speech – his own account of the reason of his re-birth (and past birth’s death).

Yes re-births happen for a reason – for reference see Om Shanti Om, Karan Arjun, Karz, Karz- Himesh Version {at your own risk}, Ab Ke Baras {Not my problem if you haven’t heard of it}.

Following is an excerpt from the speech of the esteemed philosopher poet Prof. Richard Devendra Das.The speech was delivered at a private gathering and this is only part of the speech ever re-produced.


Rebirths happen for a reason, my reason is fame
Which I rightly deserved in last life…never received the same
A struggling writer I was whose writings people never read
Nowhere to success this profession lead
So one fine day dejected I was
From writing I decided to take a permanent pause
And gifted my new writings to a student I had
Willy S. they called him…his writing was sad
The rest is history, he stole my work and rose to fame
When I confronted him, he used my own line, "What’s in a name?"
Whether it’s your work or mine…it’s all the same…
That day I committed suicide and to this existence I have since came!!


The walk under moonlight


A beautiful night it was…
The full moon gleaming over the city of London…
No stars that night…
The moon seemed more beautiful this way….

She decided to go for a walk…
A walk under the moonlight…
Contemplating on days went by….
The day she first met “Him”
The day he proposed her…

Their romantic date together…
Tomorrow she will be married to him…
And so her thoughts moved on….
When suddenly she DIED!!

….. Jack the Ripper ‘ripped’ another victim under the moonlight.

Mon Ami

Dear Joe,


Yeah, I know you will be angry with me.

You kept writing letters and I never replied to one.

Yes it’s my fault; I failed to keep in touch.

Its not that I had forgotten you, it’s just a busy life you know.

Over time, even you stopped writing letters to me; you must have been fed up of me not replying to you.

I remember our college days, when we were the best of friends. We still are, aren’t we? Distance doesn’t break friendships.

Let’s meet up and revive the old times. I will be coming to UK next month for a week’s holiday. I know you will be glad to meet me and so am I. See you soon.

Your friend,


P.S.: I have decided to spend the maximum time possible with you while I stay there, so I haven’t made any hotel bookings. I will stay at your home. 🙂


Sam thought over it for minute. True, Joe was his best friend once, but over time they had lost contact. For last two years he hadn’t heard a word from him. But then again, Joe was one of those emotional guys. He will never forget old friends. Free accommodation in UK for a week was done.

A few days afterwards he received a letter.


Mr. Sam,

Sorry to inform you, but your dear friend Joe died two years back. Since he stayed alone and had no family members, his house was auctioned and I am the new owner of this house. I understand your grief and hope that you come over it soon. May God bless your good friend’s soul.

Yours truly…

Mr. Arthur Alright


Sam sighed. “There goes my trip”

Or perhaps not!

Why UK…why not France!

Time to write another letter…


Mon Ami Julian…


Take 1

“Honey, I am home. What’s for dinner?”
“You never told me you can make Lasagna. Hope you haven’t put mushrooms.”
“Yes I know…you told me about your fungal allergy long back”
“Hmm… by the way, I met John Cruz today, your old college friend”
“Oh really, how is he? Where did you meet him? “
“At Crossword. He is studying Homer’s work. We had an interesting conversation regarding you.”
“You did?”
“Yes about your name. It implies “faithfulness”. I didn’t know the meaning until now.”
“Hmm…have your dinner its getting cold”

And so Penelope served the mushroom filled lasagna to him acting against what her name implied. Soon she will have his wealth and her love…John.

Et Tu Penelope….


Take 2

Reporters conversing at a book launch…

“Psst…, any clue what’s the book plot?”
“No idea, the press release contained only the title of the book – Penelope”
“Guess it’s a controversial plot. The writer is a debutante – perhaps that’s why the publishers were silent about the plot. Adds to the hype”
“Yes, it’s all to create hype. Perhaps the story is the biography of a woman of substance”
“I think it’s a thriller, perhaps the main protagonist is Penelope, the victim of some crime”
The writer arrives…
Amidst many questions he raises his voice, “Firstly a clarification about an error: The title is not “Penelope” its “Pen Elopes”. The story is about a pen eloping with a whitener against family opposition…”

The Writer’s Death

With each passing second…slowly he lost breath.
Solemn and still he lied on bed…as the writer awaited his death.
In his mind that moment…thoughts drifted amidst nauseating blanks few…
Random thoughts many…of words he had written…of people he knew…
Of that one girl he loved…and yet wanted to hate as well…
Another thought interrupted all of sudden…will it be heaven for him…or hell
Whatever it will be …it has to better than life…that was the deal…
For which he had embraced death on his own…to end an endless ordeal…
Poison spread through his veins…and conquered over his every part…
He knew not what was being destroyed faster…a creative mind..or a broken heart…
And so a writer died…in his last few moments of solemnity…
Drifting apart from his existence..away from life…that granted him his identity…
And so another writer ends his last words few…
That writer had met his fate…this writer awaits his destiny too…