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Wednesday, 20 November 2019

The First Gift




You'd believe in magic if you ever loved music. I do. For a long time, music is the  magic that brought Rahul and I close together. Over the city walls, miles between us, we heard each other in tunes. Just one day, we stopped at each other as the world moved by. This painting is the story of our world.

Thank you @hazna_nazrin for making my first gift to him so special. From monochrome to cityscapes, you painted our town blue!

Monday, 27 May 2019

 Farhan Akhtar was 18 when he wrote this poem. I happened to listen to him reciting it, on Simi Garewal`s rendezvous (2003). I searched on the internet to find the whole piece of this poetry but it was unavailable so I decided to post it on the web for those who are in need of some burst of thoughts.


You've grown into a fine young tree
The pride of the neighborhood
Standing tall
Flashing green
Home to all your insect friends.

Oh..How everybody loves the tree!

Then suddenly a day appears in pain
An axe chopping through your flesh and blood
You look down
You recognize the face.
Its the man who nurtured you, caressed you.
Its the same man who gave birth to you.

Oh..How he loved the tree!

One final chop
You lye still,dead.
The green fades
The insect leaves
The neighborhood cheers
They get a better view of the sea now.

Oh..how they love the sea! 

Wednesday, 17 April 2019

The Green Leaf


I wonder when such a dawn would rise
That sees the sparkle in a woman’s eyes
Coz I can’t stand the way she cries
So it’s high time that we be wise
For centuries she was caged by guys
And made to believe all their lies
She wasn’t allowed to reach the skies
But even in lows she dreamt of highs
Her life was surrounded by the spies
Some her own, some other with no ties
Someday we’ll have to pay the price
For all the agony that led to their demise
The green leaves that falls and dies.
-D