A beautiful kingdom was born of the God – The Earth;
With people in the seas and the forests and the skies.
And I a human, was the chosen one, to rule over the kingdom.
A king so powerful, a king so mighty.
I made the wheels turn, the fire went ablaze with a twitch on my fingers,
The mighty seas bowed down to their mountainous king.
I was a lion, a shark and an eagle.
God created a beautiful kingdom to rule, but I had other plans.

A king so powerful! wielding my sword the way I wanted;
I burned down the forests to fuel my greed like a bandit,
And I sailed the seas like a bloody pirate, stealing it of its precious pearls.
I flew over the skies and painted it grey,
I caged my people just to see them dance.
I hunted them for fun, cause why not, wasn’t I the king?
I wanted to see beyond the skies, if anything was left to conquer,
I wanted to find new kingdoms, but God had other plans.

For how long will the people tolerate an unworthy king?
A rebellion rose, with an intent to destroy me.
The icecaps wanted revenge and melted into the seas making it furious.
The forests dried out and with them oxygen too,
Slowly and steadily I was trapped and choking
Yet, my greedy eyes looked way beyond the skies,
to escape into another Kingdom, and rule again with an iron fist.
I was a fool, was I not mere human?

I was a fool, there was no kingdom beyond the clouds.
Mine was the only one that cradled life.
I had to stop searching for another home, and instead protect this one.
But it was too late to realize, cause I was already dead.
I had the throne and I had the kingdom;
But I chose a casket and I chose the hell down under.
Instead of the crown, I chose six inch nails to get hammered on my coffin.

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It was six o’ clock in the evening, Grandpa returned from his evening walks;
The brothers ran to him, grabbed onto his fists.
It was a game of firsts, ’cause Grandpa was fair,
He always had two, two they were, those little Eclairs!
Two they were, to double their joy!

It was one o’ clock in the morning, They should’ve been in bed; But, here they were!
From one of his foreign trips, their uncle had arrived.
They dug into his luggage after a warm hug;
Oh! There they were! The exotic Ferrero Rocher!
The brothers unwrapped their bundles of joy.

It was twelve o’ clock in the afternoon, Lunch time it was, with a Silk in his pocket
He sat by his high school love;
With only her he shared, their bond of love, the Diary Milk.
With a chocolate kiss, their love was sealed,
And the Silk stood testimony, to a love that lasted a life.

It was eight o’ clock in the morning, Time for his college and away from home he stayed.
He grabbed onto a few pieces of bread, spread it over them,
A delicious sandwich it was,
the Nutella never failed To deliver him the taste of love.
His family was far, but the chocolate never left!

It was nine o’ clock in the evening, Bedtime for his little daughter, he was just back from work.
Oh! She wouldn’t sleep, unless she had her Kit Kat.
The daddy never forgot to get her one; No matter how busy he was.
Well, the chocolate always reminded him of his family life.

Oh! It was six o’ clock in the evening, His granddaughter was waiting at the doorstep.
Peek-a-boo she said and grabbed onto his palm,
As she unwrapped the Eclairs,
Life as a full circle, flashed before his eyes.

For seventy long years he lived;
During the games with his brother;
The bonding with his uncle, the first kiss of love;
The days away from home, the lullaby for his daughter;
And the peek-a-boo with his granddaughter,
The chocolate stood as a witness and catalyst To all his life’s joys.

Supermoon (14/11/16)

There came a day in my lifetime,

When the moon took center stage and struck a pose to begin it’s Orchestra.

And today, he was the instruments, the players and the master.

The stage was all his, to shine brighter than any star today.



The brain is a silent place.
It doesn’t make noise like the heart does, to let the world know that you’re alive.
But, imagine if your brain stops working! Even the heart won’t know if it ought to beat or not.
The brain is a silent place.


Now, what is more powerful?
Silence or noise?
Noise, the one that always tells the world what it is made up of. The one’s story everybody knows. The one whose thoughts everyone is aware of. The one, for whom all of us are prepared.
Or Silence, the one who is a mystery. The one whose thoughts no one knows a thing about. The one who is full of secrets. The one whom we need to be wary about, cause this one, when broken can spill secrets, truth and answers.


Our organs are nothing but instruments.
Instruments that find no purpose with no music.
Our brain is the book, who holds the musical notes for the instruments to play.
This breath is the musician, who reads these notes and plays the music. So what are these musical notes and instruments without the musician? What are these organs and brain without the breath?

An Epitaph of a Coffee Mug.

My life started as a plain white mug;
Moved to a printing shop.
And not to a retail shop, by fate I guess
'Cause that's what made my life special.

One fine day a pretty girl picked me up
And got a Batman printed on me
I thought how lucky I must be to be
Kissing this pretty girl’s lips
and get cuddled by her every day.

But the truth dawned on me the very next day
I was the gift to an ugly boy, her man.
Instead of her soft red lips,
His horrible dark ones were the ones
Going to torture me in the days to come, I thought.

Life wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be
‘Cause this man treated me with love,
For I was his love’s gift.
Every day I held the coffee
of some of Kodagu’s finest beans.
And washed with the finest soap around.
He treated me with Floyd’s music
every dawn and dusk.
But I always longed for the pretty girl’s lips.

One fine day luck knocked on me.
This boy poured the same coffee into me.
This time around, it was her lips.
she drank from me.
oh! What an ecstasy,
That felt like Paradise
That’s when I lost my long preserved celibacy.
But on the very fortunate day
The pretty girl and her man fought.
Since then I’ve never seen her,
And I long for her lips every day.
She was my first and last love.

The next few days this boy treated me
in the worst ways he could;
My skin was bathed with whisky one day,
and his on another.
On one cursed day out of anger,
he hurled me and I ended up in a garbage pit.

Life turned out to be a different journey.
A beggar picked me up,
Every day he treated me in the worst possible ways.
One day I was his cup for his rtten soup,
On another, I turned into a begging bowl.
Forget the good old days of the finest soap,
He never even gave me a bath.

One unfortunate night,
I slipped from his bag onto the road.
And broke as a vehicle ran over me.
For thirteen days I lied there, in coma
That’s when a little boy picked me up
and took me to his house.

I heard him tell his mother
That I was for a certain “Funk with Junk” at school.
My life always had ups and downs,
I need to thank the God I’ve never seen or understood.
That pretty girl was a Muslim,
her man a Hindu
And the beggar a Christian, never got the difference.
Thankful as He gave me an amazing journey
And not just let me be a plain mug in a retailer’s shop.

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