LOVE THAT REFUSES TO GO

You’re a glass of water
Which is too full
To be carried along carelessly
And I’m a free flowing breeze
Too fickle
To ever be that mindful.

You’re a deep sea diver
Who races against whales
And I’m the one with the gorgeous skin
Too afraid of the tan.

You fly a Boeing 787
At full throttle
And I double check my seat belt
At 50kilometres an hour!

So;
We need to spill some water
And wear a little sunblock
And maybe, just walk?

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IDEAS

I pitter, I patter, and click a clack,
About Gandhi and his ideas that worked without a whack.
But I’ve installed an army and a nuclear button,
With a few easy deaths over chicken and mutton.

Now this is not to refurbish savagery in my blood,
‘Cause a fellow in me stands as calm as seas under shrieky thuds.
He’s an overfilled soul and a hungry gut,
Away from his home, in an island stuck.

An island, which is his loyal platoon,
Sometimes engendered with baits that swoon:
Men over women and men over other men,
Since fellow beings are more dangerous than a lion’s den.

But he has not grown on Kindle fables,
And knows of clouds bereft WiFi cables,
Under which he builds a castle of dreams that never fade,
Since what is life, if not ideas that weed out the good old stereotypical spades.

So he builds out a task force,
And doesn’t let a voice go hoarse,

That condemns religions under the broad daylight,
For victimising creativity by infringement of rights.

That task force are words on paper,
Terrified of intolerance and creativity’s current stature,
Not in just muddy houses and movie halls,
But in shut minds and open tabs of people all!

ONE MORE TIME

​One more time,

I want to hear grandma’s tales which took me to paradise but this time, I won’t return.

One more time, 

I want to run at a pace which was never the fastest but this time, I still won’t stop.

One more time,

I want to wear those shorts that exposed my saggy thighs but this time I won’t feel ashamed.

One more time, 

I want to ask that doubt which made me look foolish but this time I won’t care.

One more time,

I want to be asked what makes me happy and this time, I won’t try to fit in!!!

TINCTURE OF SIGH

​Once for the guy who slapped her ass,

Twice for the one who had a personality crass,

She sought placidity on beds with switched off lights.

Until she met the one who gave her soul the delight.

And that guy on a dusky night,

With a glass of wine and a tinge of sigh,

Watched her ruin her mascara as she cried and cried,

Tears of joy, and tears of agony,

Those of fear, laughter and misery…

Trailed from her eyes to his blotched heart,

And eventually she learnt that, being naked, is an exotic art.

LIKE A GIRL

There’s a little girl in my heart,
Who’s soft and pink and afraid.
Afraid, for if she comes out,
She won’t be able to live.

They say, “you’re such a boy”
Without analysing how inevitable it is for victory.

For you see, I won’t be able to listen to guys’ conversations “like a girl”,
Lest, I’ll be offended.
I can’t run and throw on the field “like a girl”,
Lest I’ll be mocked at.
I can’t not study and shop “like a girl”,
Lest, I’ll be tagged unambitious.

Part of growing up as a “girl”,
Was to realize that you ought to be “like a guy” in this society to be successful;
Because guys can un-listen patriarchy,
Girls, Ah! They’re too delicate to “misbehave”
-D. Sharma

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Quite unconventionally, we don’t talk much often,
Nevertheless, there’s no part of my soul that you haven’t yet softened.
I could’ve called you yesterday even at midnight,
But stranding in the traffic of your phone didn’t please me in the foresight.
Because I wish that you read this whenever you’re free,
And not revert to me haphazardly as a busy bee.

Today, as the candles impale your pastry,
I so hope that it lights up our bond while serving as an upholstery.
I’ve walked countless lanes with you making merry,
And jumped thousand a puddles when the road ahead seemed dreary.
And this isn’t a thank you note for all such moments,
But an alarm for you to brace me up even further when destiny offers me with circumstances to lament.

As you blow the candles off today, don’t thaw me like the frozen wax,
Instead, pile me up with your love and care such that it chips in whenever the inadequacies need to be whacked.

An obedient daughter and a prodigious student,
A benevolent friend with a mind extremely prudent,
You’ve given your all to the people around,
But today, I pray that karma returns you the favor that’s befitting and sound.
And, trust me, when the day comes that you do yourself proud,
I’ll cheer the loudest from the crowd.

Till then, dance it out sometimes and seldom, celebrate life your way,
As I join the league wishing you a “Happy Birthday”!

THE PARADIGM

While her tongue ran naked in the news show as she debated,

“How in order to defer rape, it’s necessary for all men to be castrated”,

She forgot her virgin male friend who always escorted her home,

Just to ensure that filthier men around her don’t roam.

She led her way to thinking,

that “men are good for nothing”.

Poor lass! Couldn’t summon the old cute boy down the street,

during the trek, when she fell helplessly, who soothed  her glitched feet.

“Women shouldn’t be dependent on men”, she protested rightly,

when she heard of housewives marred by men maliciously.

But oblivious to all the guys she rested upon,

be it her father, brother or lover… long gone!

Conclusively, I’ll be saying this with a sigh,

for some, even feminism comes with a tag of “if convenient” with a self-standard not too high.

As feminazis fail to realize that “interdependence” is the crux of all human civilization,

they hypocritically continue to oppose all men irrespective of their caste, creed or nation.

-D. Sharma

 

 

 

SHEEN OF TEEN

Thirteen, when after years of ‘uncool’ hard work she began emerging as a nerdy fuck,
Fourteen; she laid hands in every sphere to become the all-rounder… Of course! Was just trying her luck.
Fifteen; she made Taylor Swift’s lunacy her life and swore words in delight.
Sixteen; outside academics she found her passion,
Seventeen, when failure in its pursuit got her in depression.
Eighteen, when still she thought her every gloomy over thought,
Nineteen; and finally for her dreams she got up and fought.
Twenty, when to victory, she got close,
Twenty one, when into the future, time froze.
-D. Sharma

IT’S NOT YOUR JOB!

All life a man strives for a girlfriend or a wife,
Who’s enticing enough to embellish his life.

But you know one day this will make a difference,
Perhaps, in your future daughter’s life a hindrance.

When she’ll inquire, “Dad, am I pretty or not?”,
Your heart will die a hundred deaths with your stomach in many a knots!

“You don’t have to be so,
Just for the sake of following the mob.
If that isn’t what your heart craves for,
Then it’s not your job!”

Or you might go standard and quote,
“Of course you’re! Your facial charm is after all what makes me sail my life’s boat”.

Both might sound right,
Right now in your head.
But your momentary words,
Will make her develop a perception which the world won’t be able to behead.

She’ll anyway learn the patriarchal truth one day,
But what she’s taught till that time is what for a lifetime will stay.

The former quote will preach her,
That it’s okay to earn a few bucks less and aim for a real life encore of Mary Kom;
Than to just play it on screen,
Accumulate huge wealth and set the theater on storm.

It obviously, for her, won’t be easy,
To unlearn sexism while embarking the journey as a novel herald.
But your daughter by then won’t be all breezy,
Who just cares about lips glossy and haute couture of the world.

I hope you start making a choice different from today,
Such that later, in pride your heart and mind would endlessly lay.
-D. Sharma

BE THE FEW

We’re all stars learning people’s names,
Whose light shall not be blown off as extinguishing flames.

People will do every little thing to put you in shame,
Only because you gave heart to your passion when they succumbed to disdain.

Not undermining the fact that being an engineer or a doctor is a task uphill,
You win at life when you walk away from such stereotyped goals which are against your will.

Most of us will try settling for fine,
Which would include a sedan car, an embellished house and a luxurious place to dine.
But some will set the voyage for the new,
That would only afford a decent car, a tiny flat and dinners with dishes few.

The former would most assuredly win you fans for your lifestyle,
And the latter, hopefully followers for a lifetime.
So whenever the paradigm sets in you,
Remember, that you’ve to be the few,
Be the few!

-D. Sharma