Pictures that speak

I tried my hand at portraiture recently both in terms of photography and writing. Here are some of the results. Apologies to those who have fed both my blog RSS feed as well as flickr RSS feed to their feed reader. :p.

Look into my eyes
Look into my eyes
Look into my eyes!
And you will find,
memories that linger,
and ties that bind.

Hold my hand
Hold my hand
Hold my hand,
for I seek comfort.
Be with me right here,
don’t let me hurt.

Who’s that dude?
Who’s now being so prude?
Does he think we don’t know,
that we were being viewed?

I notice of late
I rather speculate
on a lot of things surreal

But it’s better to ideate
than to vegetate.
Is it such a big deal?

We trudge together, careful never to peer into our shadows.
(not really a couplet, but what the heck, I like the pic)

Ponderable Pink 1


The colour of the petals,
the bright glittering light.

The pink that settles,
on the black granite.

In my memory eternally nestles,
this wonderful sight.

Clicked the orchids, the last of a bunch, by placing them on a black granite breakfast counter, with the bright summer sun filtering through the curtains.

Tummy tiff 2

Worse than having a spat with your mummy,
is having to fight it out with your own tummy.
When with you, it just doesn’t agree;
and you find yourself on a never ending spree,
of belching out things that till last night you thought were yummy!

It’s bad to be on the wrong side of it,
that doesn’t make you a big mouth or an a$$hole u twit!
In this world of nefarious scheming,
when against you all other body parts seem to be teaming,
you have to tackle this fast – not bit by bit.

Ostensibly, the dinner, I had digested,
which consisted of what the local vendor had suggested.
But even after a whole night’s “foodless” sabbatical,
when dawn saw me becoming vertical,
Out came tumbling – everything I had ingested!!

A harrowing experience, I’ll not go on about.
For I am sure a gory tale you can do without.
Of how I was taken completely by surprise,
when I finally did realise,
the chicken nuggets I had had, gave tummy this clout.

Finally a stringent hunger strike,
was the only thing we thought on, alike.
Tummy – “I am not going to digest anything you gave“.
Me – “I am not going to *GIVE* you anything till you behave!”
With that I thought I finally had some control on the tyke.

But alas! This scheme failed too quickly,
and I bravely decided not to give in meekly.
After some frantic search, out came the “Raam baan“,
Needless to say – To Pudeen Hara’s pills I owe much “Ehsaan“,
For they eventually showed tummy that I wasnt gonna give in weakly.

Negotiating with your tummy is a dying art,
One should respect tummy right from the meal to the fart.
This is what I have learnt,
with fingers that are now burnt,
Well, at least I seem to have made a start!

Tesu ke phool

Tesu ke phool

Garmi ke aise dino mein,
jee chahta hai, jaaoon jhool,

iss ped se jhoola laga kar,
aur upar se barse tesu ke phool.

Clicked while driving, to be more precise – in a hurry, while watching out for the signal to turn green. Who says there are long stops at traffic signals?

Heart to heart

To let out a silent fart,
is no less than a complex art,

but the profound after effect
is seldom perfect,

if even the most blocked nose,
can not help but smart.

Gross, but at times that’s what I feel like being.