Saturday, April 12, 2008


Sartre said

Hell is other people

I say

Other people’s emotions

I abhor them

Especially when they are

Used as currency

I will give you quarter kilo of love

for half kilo of security

give me cause-effect any day

I can understand it

Dissect it

Grapple with it

There is no nebulousness

No hidden agenda

No blackmail

I obsess with realism

What I see is

Not only what I should get

But also give

How can love be

A band-aid

How can love be eternal

Its an oxymoron

It has to have

Shelf life

It is best consumed

Within the date stamp it carries

Cold storage

Can only give you

The illusion that

You beat the date

If you are a fussy customer

You can’t fail to notice

The sour tinge

Especially when you swallow

Hint of things not alright


In most relationships

You ignore

The telltale signs of decay

You purge the

Top layer

And convince yourself that

It was just a sheen of fungus

Not gotten down to the core

And as you dig

And your nose is assaulted

You complain that

The spade is not

Doing its job

You wash it

Clean it dry

Dig again

Why is it so hard to read


They come with relationships

Like dog tags

Just a question of time

The last act is inevitable

And curtains

And even if

You refuse

The audience know when it is over

Even if the actors don’t

The usher stops ushering

Be kind to yourself

bring down the curtains