Genie in a Bottle.

A long night's sleep and when I woke up, I found myself on a deserted island. No trace of human existence around. All was barren, dry, colourless and lifeless. Wandering in search of food, I stumbled upon something and fell on the ground, biting the dust. Genie in a bottle? I rubbed, I rubbed hard. No genie came out, and I woke up just to realise that it was my Old monk bottle that I was rubbing all night through. Hungover Dreams!

The letter.

Two years had lapsed since he moved from a remote village in India to a far away country. Miles away from home, it was that time of the month when he eagerly awaited the letter from his mother. This time, the letter didn't come. Stoned and stifled, he waited. Weeks later, a letter from the  Sarpanch came,  informing him of his mother's demise.

Love at first sight!

'Omg! You know there's a hot guy who recently joined??' 'Yeah?''I think I have a crush on him. Will propose him this Valentine's' 'Super!!' She mustered all her courage and handed him over a letter with a small teddy bear, expressing her liking for him and ran away. Next day, to her utter shock and disappointment, a paper airplane was lying on her desk. It was that letter. 

Of childhood and dreams...

He accidentally broke the glasses. Scared, sweating, breathless, he hid under a table. Suddenly, someone pulled him by his hair. A monstrous devilish face! A punch in the nose and he started bleeding. The hands carved soft enough to etch future for themselves had become rough and were getting wasted in washing dishes and doing labor. Eyes overflowing with dreams of a bright future, drenched in salty water. Hope was still alive in his heart. With his first salary, he bought himself a pen and a notebook. 

The Great Indian Bedding!

The Bedding followed The Great Indian Wedding. Decked with roses, and a crisp white sheet, platform was set for the bride and groom to hit the sack and roll in the hay. Ladies in the house were excited enough lick the stained bed sheet clean, which, to their astonishment and disappointment, was found wrinkled, yet plain and white, the next morning.

A journey called Life

Born a dreamer,
I fear I might die a loser,
The expectations and the resultant frustration,
Weigh too heavy upon me.

The eyelids too soft,
To carry the dreams too big,
Unfortunate enough to be blessed,
With wings of iron and stone.

Keeping my hopes and head held high,
I still tread into the skies unknown,
the pathways dark and untravelled,
With my heart agonized and forlorn.

A journey unto nowhere,
unawares of the consequences,
Through lands so dark,
I can neither see my future, nor remember my past.

With nothing else but a handful of dreams,
eyes brimming with hope,
heart lost in randomness,
Situations so bewildering, unable to cope.

All I need is a guiding finger,
to lead me through this deserted road called life,
unto a staircase which extends ,
into the skies of my unfulfilled aspirations.

Let my heart be a kite,
Let it fly so high,
that one fine day,
It for sure reaches the sky!

Summers!

When the droplets of sweat,

trickle down my forehead,

kissing my cheeks,

unto my bosom,

I realize, that Summers have arrived.

Oranges and lemons,

water in gallons,

juices and squashes,

peaches and melons.

The wardrobe is bustling,

with Lemons and Greens,

The Dressing is glowing,

with gloss and sheen.

The scorching sun,

the warm, sunny days,

post a gloomy winter,

makes me gay.