Sideeffects Of Recession

I was transferred by my employer to a remote location, it was recession,

 So there was no scope for alternate vocation,

 I bit the bullet and drove my old red Corvett,

 I was sure my new assignment would be straight jacket,

 It was like sucking air through tooth cavity,

 you suck despite of the pain,

 Ohh i hate this city.... Hate its never ending rain.....

 I sit on my cranky corner chair,

 the dripping droplets from the vibrating AC,

 wants me to pull my hair, my super pessimisim had killed all the novelty in the air,

 Suddenly there appears an angle sitting adjacent to my cranky chair,

 Deep brown hazel eyes, which would make any commited man to rattle lies,

 Incandacent soft tanned skin, just like golden sand wrapped in Muslin,

 Lips like cuppie cake dipped in melted chocolate,

Dazzling curls dangling down her shoulders,

 She was discussing financial and ratios with co-bankers,

It felt like water flowing through a rocky river bed,

That moment i decided i am gonna ask out this mermaid,

Our friendship grew.... Suddenly the shady office felt cozy and new,

 I mustered some courage, spent a sixty thousand Rs on a sparkling necklace,

We met at Christies for dinner date, i wonered why she invited our Country head,

Moments later she introduced him as her fiancee,

My only concern was the resale value of the necklace and the credit card bill,

As a banker concepts like valuations and return on investment are deep rooted within us,

She was my motivation to survive in that hostile location,

Now that alice is gone......i packed my bags...... Was about to wrapup ....

 Then i saw a sharpe looking brunette in glasses in our legal dept,

 I checked the necklace in my bag...

My romance with this city and shady office continues.....              

A Simple Pen

Dear poetry, 

You scared my pen yesterday,


 You were very intimidating,


The poor thing was frighten by use of complex language 


by his literate counterparts, 


In the morning he cursed me for my profession,


To which I replied son," Your friends can win millions of 


 accolades in closed doors,


 but you can win millions by your side by being yourself.


 Simplicity should not be considered as attribute of less privleged, 


 but sacred weapons of revolutionaries! "

Ajnabee

Aaj khud hee mein ittna mashruuf huae.....


Ke, aaina humse humari shakceeyat poochee....


Kitnii koshish ki par koi nuskaa... Kaam naa aaya....


Waqt ne rachaa aisa maaya jaal kee....


Apne jo phele..... Humein milne ko hote thee bekarrar.....


Woh hee Bann Gaye anjaane....


Is sheher ne sabb diya...


Shauhrat di....... izzat dee..... 


Lekin humhee ko hum se chinn liya.....

Have i made it Large..?

Khaaii humnein dar-dar ki thokare....


Sabb hasil kiya...... Lekin apnee hee bal butein, 


Fir bhee ek khalish hai jo din raat kaattii hai....


 Have i made it large....?  


Party isski ho yaa usski hamnee jamm ke pe whiskey.... 


Gir k khud hee k bahon mein samman gaye hum .... 


Fir woah he sawal....


Have i made it large.... ? 


Har weekend ko aazadi ka jashan....


Har weekday aglaye din ki subhah ka maatam...


Kabhee kisi ka janam.... 


Toh kabhee kisi k professional life life mein phoote karam.... 


Zehen mein bass ek hee khalayal... bass ek hi sawal....


Have i made it large....?


Ek din fir.... Roz ki tarah... hum Apnee aap mein samma gaye....


Kya kahee samma.... hi kuch aisaa thaa ki hosh ne bhee daga de diya...


Akhein kholi toh haspatal mein khud ko paaya... 


Iss zinda-dil ke jigar ne jawab de diya.... 


Tabb patta chala.... 


I really made it large.....

Bey waqt Maut

Hum toh khamakhaa... Zindagii ko gum mein doobo k jiyee jaa rahee thee..(2)

Humein yeh patta thaa ki hum zindagi se zindaa bachh k nahi jaayenge..... 

Lekin maut ne darr ka aisa jaal  bechaaya .....(2)

.Ki jeena dushwaar ho gaya..... 

Aaj fir jeene ki tammana hai... (2)

Abb bass ek hi soach hai  ki Maut.... sey pehle ku marein hum...

Ps:- This is my first attempt to write in Hindi inspired by Gulzar Saahab!......

Confessions of a Self Proclaimed Counselor

 The whole world comes to me,

People value my piece of advice,

They all know I am smart and wise,

Helping people is my hobby done it for years now,

Who knew I have to pay a price,

I am fairy godmother showering love & joy,

Sometimes I feel like destiny’s toy,

Helping people, getting them out of rut,

Quarrels, conflicts & breakups,

At the end of the day I am fed-up,

Days, months, and years pass,

Problems, professional, personal all kinds,

Soon I start to miss myself,

Living for others at my expense,

I start seeing problems, and not solutions,

Advising becomes an addiction,

For me everybody is my subject,

And I have a pressing need to help,

All my lustrous black have turned into grey,

My Mr. Right has also walked away,

Had enough of playing mommy,

Now decided to reclaim my life,

Over doing anything is never good!...

This is a hard lesson I have understood…

My Addictive Girl

As I try to look at myself,

I see a stranger in the mirror,

Eye filled with a droplet of tear,

Fear was the past,

Now I have nothing to lose,

I have lost it all,

My daughter won’t call me daddy,

My love won’t call me honey,

Oh I had made lot of money,

But there is no more joy Sunny,

I chased everyone away, who came near me,

I made only one mistake,

I befriended an irresistible, intoxicating friend,

In her company the party would never end,

Living life high, pouring pleasure all night,

Even in the broad daylight,

I could not take her out of my sight,

She put me to bed, kissed me good night,

Made my day’s tension a bit light,

People said she might steal my voice,

I ridiculed them by saying,

Nectar can only be smooth,

You people can’t resist my poise,

Hence you make all the noise,

When I lost my first music contract,

I could not react,

She seemed the only one with whom I could interact,

She was always there by my side,

In joy & sorrow,

Till my life became hollow,

To keep her by my side,

I sacrificed all I had,

One fine day doc tells me,

If she stays, I go,

We both can’t live together,

She had to leave me one fine day,

Not before she had taken everything away.

Warrior Princess!

She fights the black, cold, dark midnight,

With a smile on her face,

Like a candle in middle of a desert storm,

Flickering and fighting her way,

 Against the fierce & intimidating winds,

Resolute and strong,

When the world gives up on her,

She has the tenacity to see us through the daylight,

Fighting in the dark giving us light,

Luminescence of freedom is brighter than millions of torches

Burnt by a tyrant,

Just for a cause,

Just to protect our soles from blazing,

A reply to all that effort is,

“Born to make you happy!”

Born to give them hope,

Who have no one to fall back on,

Burning herself in the process,

In the start it seemed like a lost battle,

But she spared her tears to shed them on the enemy’s grave,

The enemy is mighty and strong,

But she has a strong belief that freedom shall come along,

There is no retreat, there is no surrender,

Fighting against all odds,

The dark king plays all the tricks in his book,

Never showing his face on the battlefield,

He used diplomacy to core,

Assigns his best general to fight against the lone unequipped princess,

They wish to steal her kingdom, freedom and everything she had!,

By tricking her all the way,

They spun a web and catch her on the wrong foot,

But they chose the wrong nemesis,

She decided to fight and get everything right,

The able general was the face of Dark King in the battle,

But how did it matter,

 She was on a roaring rampage of revenge,

For her vengeance was only to teach enemy a lesson,

Lesson not to steal from those seem to be weak,

She matched the enemy strength to strength,

And the general seemed to be losing despite of the backing & the might,

The Dark King decides to retreat,

He beheads his own General,

Just to keep his face,

To which our princess replied,

“That s what separates darkness and light,

I can willfully die for my men, whereas you can kill”,

The dark king apologized,

He took a retreat,

Princess forgive him saying,

“There is no bigger punishment than dodging guilt”,

She shall always fight against tyrants,

Always inspire us to take arms against the suppressors of freedom.

Bartender

Oh yaa I am a Bartender,

I serve poison,

For people like to get a Life,

When they order a drink,

I serve pleasure & trance,

For people who don’t  wanna dance,

Mixing potent mixtures,

And calling them by funny names,

Oh ya I am a Bar tender,

Juggling & Jamming till dawn,

I have seen romantic nights with full of fights,

Kids buying beer,

And scoring effortlessly without any fear,

Those innovative pickup lines,

Act as goldmines,

It’s never been a new game for a player,

I have seen it all,

Ohh Yaa I am Bartender,

Never ever been a pretender…..

Even though the next morning I am a total stranger.

Long Walk To Freedom……

People describe it as a long walk,

But with my people’s support,

I felt like a stroll in a Park,

Twenty Seven Years in that tiny cell,

Could have been worse than hell,

But I was determined not to give in,

The ray of light through that thin slit,

Always ignited the flame of hope deep within me,

It made me resolute not to raise white flag,

As we were fighting for colors,

We needed white, black, brown, grey & all,

To built to built this Rainbow nation,

Had a dream, dream rubbished by the guards,

Mocked at by inmates,

Lived by me,

I had to win by winning hearts,

History has seen biggest wars are fought for Love,

But I fought my biggest war with love,

If I was never deported to Robben island,

Never would have discovered Mahtma deep within me.

PS:- I was inspired to write on Mr. Mandela after watching the movie Invictus

Who Owns Mumbai?

I wrote this piece 3 years back, Just came across it so thought of posting it again on Whimsical Life


Land of million opportunities, where million dreams are buried and born every day, home to Bollywood testimonial to thousands of scripted success stories, witness to many, ‘Big Indian Dreams ‘coming true…,Maximum City, City that never sleeps…it can be associated with many such adjectives.
The city is Jewel of all Metros , Mumbai contributes 10% of factory employment, 33% of income tax collections, 60% of customs duty collections, 20% of central excise tax collections, 40% of India's foreign trade and rupees 40,000 crore (US $9 billion) in corporate taxes.*
But the big question which we have is, who really owns Mumbai? Is it the Men who Rule it, or self proclaimed Political leaders, or‘We The People’, wait a minute who comes under the purview of so called as we the people, is it the ‘Marathi Manus’1 or North Indians . If we dig deep within ourselves the answer is as clear as a crystal ball, Mumbai belongs to men and women who build this great city. And who are they, they are no one but common men and women who had a dream in their eyes and worked hard and chased it, and even if they were light years from fulfillment of destiny, they had a smile on their face.
And this ‘Stupid Common Man’ is tired of ‘Raj-giri’, pardon me for my language and use of famous phrases from recent bollywood flicks. Common man is crushed between some myopic and petty political actions, and pressure of earning daily bread. These actions actually may not give great deal of political mileage to a nascent Political Party, only it would play in hands of the ruling party. Let me not get my hands dirty by writing about our Politicians.
Talking about Marathi Manus, is against North Indians , I do think so, any stupid common man in Mumbai is too busy to care about stuff like that , here everybody has to think about their daily bread and any man Marathi, Gujrati or Bengali, tries to keep away from the mess. I have a serious doubt, if our leaders say that Marathi Manus is not getting his rights and a place that he deserves, I will ask who is Marathi Manus? Is he Milkha Singh that speaks better Marathi than Punjabi and has been a domicile resident of the city for 25 years or Rambharose who prepares better Puranpoli’s2 than a Marathi brahmen cook, or is Sheikh Nadeem who dances in Ganpati procession of Lalbaugcha Raja3. Even I was at the receiving end of things a very good friend of mine from Jaipur commented on a discussion on a b-school in Nagpur “ Sir your home is getting all the big ticket intellectual Investment”, I replied “Sir my home is the same as yours and we call it India”. This may sound to dramatic but this was the only reply I could think at the point of time.
I am Gurathi, and speak fluent Marathi and proud of the same, and I don’t believe that since one man went against the non Maharashtian’s the entire Marathi community should not be blamed. ‘An Eye for Eye leave all the residents of Mumbai Blind!.... As I always say.Revenge is sweet , but unfortunately not Fruitful!
* Mc Kinsey Report Published in 2005 in association with NASSCOM. http://www.mckinsey.com/locations/india/mckinseyonindia/pdf/NASSCOM_McKinsey_Report_2005.pdf

1 The Common Maharashtrian Man.
2 A Sweet delicacy from Maharashtra.
3 Lalbaugcha Raja is the oldest (75 years) Ganesh Mandal in Mumbai, They say all your wishes are fulfilled by lord Ganesha. This Idol has a first right of visarjan . Muslims in Crafford Market area, during the last day do a complete Pooja and then lead the procession before the Idol is immersed in Girgaum Chowpati in Mumbai.