A thief in a thicket is worth the wicket: Just for laughs 

Burglary may be a serious crime, but that doesn’t stop the everyday comic to steal a funny from the backyard. But if a robber didn’t rub it in your rib as yet, you’re rather lucky. There are many who have lost much of their sense of humour to the burglar’s cunning.  But this mother hadContinue reading “A thief in a thicket is worth the wicket: Just for laughs “

Cricket is fowl in English: Just for laughs 

The English language will ever be the source of puzzlement for the learner. And every newcomer must volubly wrestle with the customary buts and puts before he attains a degree of proficiency. But the unsuspecting eye can jolly well end up in folly over the idiosyncrasies of English – like the husband who branded hisContinue reading “Cricket is fowl in English: Just for laughs “

How can I write poetry…?: A poem 

How can I write poetry?  When my life is bereft of a story  Youth’s riverbed ran empty and dry  when I did believe hope was worth a try  The heart paced without a lover’s embrace  Nor the face of beauty did grace  Not mine were the kisses of fate’s promises  Adulthood’s sky was all wishesContinue reading “How can I write poetry…?: A poem “

I wish I were (what I am): A poem 

I wish I were the receptacle of love  That fit my hand perfectly like a glove  That a revelation would perch like a dove  in my heart, like tongues of fire from above  I wish my empty notes were inlaid with inspiration  Lighting up skies, rousing up entire nations  That my wishes would sprout likeContinue reading “I wish I were (what I am): A poem “

Human justice and divine retribution: A poem 

Our history is a rapacious bloom  Where guns have borne the victims’ doom  And did the victors bleed the flesh of ice  to scale the walls of prejudice?  Pale faces darkened with greed  Did justice lie among the weeds  Power wore the robe of impunity  Lies were masqueraded as honesty  A pretty reflection in aContinue reading “Human justice and divine retribution: A poem “

Seeking, on the hot dusty streets: A poem 

Out on the hot dusty streets  where the swift wind lurked  as if seeking amid  the petty stores   And circular swoops of laughter emerged  from piquant fires burning within.  Sharing such secrets gave us  a subtle grace, an acquiescent wit  That feeling the sacred and profane  our thoughts encompassed, both,  the intense and the puerile Continue reading “Seeking, on the hot dusty streets: A poem “