Forty Something

Larger than life.

Anonymous.

Green horns vie for a fortune.

Unaware of what it took you.

To shed those.

You don't have an agenda.

But others do.

That is to use the dog.

To bark at friends.

And give way to the rascals.

Are you forty-five-hundred crore?

If not then hang someone.

Or yourself.

I swear you will be worth more.

Welcome again

What takes you so long?

What?

And when you come.

You do this.

But it's not your fault.

You did not build the storm drains.

Nor the efficient drainage system.

The uprooted trees.

The traffic jams.

People getting late.

Cursing.

Not enjoying your cool embrace.

This happens once in a while.

You are seasonal.

Eternal.

You are innocent.

Stop blaming yourself.

Just continue.

Please carry on.

Alexander 356-323 B.C

The foot-soldiers.

They all look alike.

Some centuries back.

I met them in the wars.

They still run the way they did then.

But now without their horses and chariots.

They still have their leaders.

Poisoning and back-stabbing.

Brutal murders and spying.

Money buying little trust.

It is all the same.

The battle-field looks the same.

Legs of horses and the mane too.

They run stop turn and run.

But there is no land to conquer.

Only hearts and hatred.

The war has changed.

So have the soldiers.

So have the reasons.

Here he goes again

You look tired.

Do I?

Yes you do.

But you look arrogantly tired.

Is it so?

Yes.

Get some life.

The fire in you is whimpering.

Aacha......

You have lost.

Hmmm....

I agree to that.

You are left behind.

The race is long over.

Hmmm.....

Really.

Oh! you mean you want something.

Forget it pal.

Losers don't get anything.

Okay fine.

Now what?

Wake up- fight.

Pessimism my love.

My soul doesn't allow.

Your so called development.

Losing is an art.

The Lord lost.

So I found him.

If I lose.

Some of me and mine.

He will surely find me.

Kyoun?

Oh! not again.

Tears in Heaven

They die every day.

In the Border.

They die every day.

In the streets.

If they don't.

We make sure.

They do.

In the theatres.

Or Pubs.

They cry in the BSE.

They cry in the NSE.

The Bear is drinking.

It's too hot.

What do you expect?

It's all about money.

Bear has left drinking.

It is after your honey.

So, working bees keep working.

And make the honey.

Bulls don't drink.

They screw.

How do you feel?

Bullish?

Alt+F4

The Prince is dead.

Long live the King.

Death is a reality.

Passion may not be everything.

Times do change.

The nature of the being.

Remains the same.

The sword is still there.

Rusting slowly.

Wounded horses.

Broken chariots.

The power to remain.

In power.

No doubt.

The infamy you earn.

You owe your life.

To it.

What now?

They don't need that.

Do they?

Yes, they don't need that.

Long lost in the run.

On the sidelines.

Never bothered about that.

Stuck to basics.

It was difficult for them to worry.

About that.

Now the second nature.

Doesn't allow.

A sense of religious dejection.

Towards that.

Not to be compared.

Never to compete.

Not about the race.

At all.

No wonder

They don't.

They never.

Do they?

When will they?