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I Quit



I am the author of my love;

I have heard my mademoiselle’s cry,

Who live in dilemma and pain,

My love will retain.


Here I am come Cupido,

Remember me Cupido…The ace lover,

I have heard my arrival…Here I come.


I who embellished stars at night,

I who made their unilluminated shine,

I who gave my light to them,

Where do I go?  


Here I am come Cupido,

Remember me Cupido…The ace lover,

I have heard my arrival…Here I come at night.


I am the king and missing my queen,

I have absorbed all her plague.

I who cupped and lipsed her tears,

They turned away; Whom shall I send?


Here I am come Cupido,

Remember me Cupido…The ace lover,

I have heard my arrival…Here I come…in Abraham’s bosom.


I, the invisible umbrella to her,

Shielded against heat and storm.

I who burnt and saved her grace,

Not for you…I am firm, I heard.


Here I am come Cupido,

Remember me Cupido…The ace lover,

I have heard my arrival…Here I come…Here, I Quit.


Day 5:Silver Jubilee Jubilation

June 19, 1987 to June 19 2012, 25 years indeed.  Twenty five Years…..

That was the day when my Parents became One and holds, for which the reason I’m present on this Earth. The below few lines contains some lovely elements which I saw my Parents sharing for nearly about two decades. Hope you’ll enjoy reading….:)

25 Years of  Togetherness,
25 Years of Consistency.
25 years of  love,
25 years of Joy.
25 years of specialness,
25 years of Gala.
25 Years of Completion,
25 years of Integralness
25 years of Remembrance,
25 Years of Admiration
25 years of Gala,
25 years of Amity.
25 years of Inclination,
25 years of Attachment.
25 years of Desire,
25 years of Belief.
25 years of Fondness,
25 years of Involvement
25 years of Interval,
25 years of Time.

I was asleep while my cell phone screamed, “Jai”, my only uncle. I knew why he took the trouble to call from India…I ran to my parents room for two simultaneous adduce . 1. To wish them a very happy and prosperous silver jubilee anniversary and 2. to help my uncle, Jai. I did. On that day, in the morning we did not went out…we egressed Bait Muscat in the evening. When the sun(though we did not see) began its departure, we dressed ourself for the ball, at home first and then at Khyber Restaurant. But as I belong to a family in which every auspicious work is initialized by Blessings of the Creator of universe, a voice announced, “hurry up, we are getting late for the mass”. We made a dash to the church. All my family members went in to pay their offerings, I did not crawl in, and payed my respect from outside the church. After requesting for my wishes to God, I knew I have some time to investigate the surroundings. The top of the church was flat(I was expecting to be a dome like shaped), I noticed. At the cafeteria I asked for a cup of coffee and found it zilch, in consideration with coffee at GMC, but quite interestingly, I enjoyed making a sacrifice of 200 Baisa for the coffee.  The mass reached its end and people started pouring out of the Holy place. And after making a small get together at Mother Mary’s grotto, we came home via collecting Anniversary cake and some other stuff from “Muscat Bakery”. Inside the home, everyone ran hither and thither to make the  arrangements. A Cake, knife, a candle, a casio, a champagne bottle, two sprite bottles, six champagne glasses and six erratic coloured plastic glasses were embellished on the table. Guddu sat on the drum which was placed juxtapose to the table and Tunnu occupied the keyboard. Ashie kept herself engaged in a discussion of a song with Tunnu. Bunty was busy making soup. You must be wondering, at that time where I was, mean, What was i doing? Actually, I am not able to recall where i was sweating my sweat at that time 🙂 I noticed that Urmila mausi was dressed in an outfit which my mother gave just 4 days before. Here, I must praise my mausi for her intelligence and loving stance for her sister (my mother). My parents began the ceremony but cutting the cake and we all joined them. Some sunged.”happy anniversary to you”, Urmila mausi added,”happy chandi anniversary to you”, Guddu and Tunnu were busy playing drum and casio respectively,  Ashie and I,started,”congratulations and celebration, I want to tell the world that i’m happy as can be”. After the cake ceremony and greetings, came the champagne tradition. My father with help from Pratap Mausa opend the Champagne bottle, urmila mausi shouted,”hey, don’t dirty my home” at which all of us bursted into laughter. I opened the apple juice champagne shaped bottle for my cousins. “Cheers, Cheers” all around. Both my Mausi(s) and mausaji(s) showed their respect with a resplendent bouquet which they handed to my parents. I remember, at that time I was recording their respect with my camera. Urmila mausi handed me their handycam and escaped into her room, Pratap Mausa, Guddu and Tunnu joined her. Then they came with an object covered with a green towel. They handed it to my parents but did not remove the towel. Guddu, generating a dilemma, went below the object so that other members think that it is damn heavy. I was still recording the whole act and from the handycam scerne i saw them removing the green layer and there came out a Samsung DVD home theater.
We reached Khyber, one big table with twelve chairs were made  systematized for us and the the steward removed the “reserved tag” from the table. Chicken lollipop and hara bhara kabab as starters, were served. Beer and wine glasses were on the table. I being a vegetarian enjoyed vegetarian food while others ate non-veg. Ice creams with gulabjamuns was served to us as sweet dish. That was the end of that memorable day.

Calamitous Parallelism

When the results of my final class of the school were declared, on that day (May 20,2009) I was taken by my friend Dinesh Lalwani, to a place, where a single railway line was made parallelised, just as above.On that day this poem came to my subconscious mind. While rest of my friends were busy talking about the results, I kept ruminating about that railway track and now after 3 years, I have tried to embellish those ruminations in the form of a poem. Enjoy it and feel the painful torment of the hapless and calamitous railway track. 🙂

We never twiddle,
we never tweak.
We never contact,
we never collide.
We never clash,
we never cross.
We never grapple,
we never greet.
We never connect,
we never converge.
We never coincide,
we never cover.
We never wrestle,
we never tussle.
Yet we share:
Ditto stamina, Duplicate strength.
Identical latitudes, Indistinguishable longitudes
Constant hot, Consistent heat.
Synonymous distance between us, Self-same displacement.
Correspond looks, Carboncopy leer.
Synoptic loneliness, Steady lonesomeness.
Same Destination, Similar Destiny.

Rampant Bomb blasts in India.

I Remember a poem which my hindi teacher taught during my childhood days, describing the superb physical geographical features of INDIA which NATURE has gifted,


which i was told , holds responsibility for INDIA’S SECURITY & protect it’s assets from enemies,
BUT BUT BUT. . . .
looking these rampant BOMB BLASTS in INDIA, I now feel….,

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