Friday, November 28, 2008

KILL THOSE BLOODY TERRORISTS - Part 2

The masses are bored.
So when a stressed out, tired, focused, somewhere scared NSG is carrying out crucial operations to rescue hostages and dispatch the terrorists to hell, they come out for an evening walk for a dose of entertainment. That way, atleast they're saving electricity by giving their sobbing soaps a sacrificial miss for a night. They gather and contribute to the confusion and chaos that only benefits the heartless terrorists.

I've always known that the masses are incapable of rational thought. But this is outrageous!
Get outta the way you fools! Go home! Leave us alone to do our work in peace! Go, get your fun at the theatres! Dull bodies with dull minds and even duller lives, out for some action.

Heard from someone that yesterday a curious couple, peeping out of a window near Nariman House were shot dead by terrorists. A perfect example of how 'curiosity killed the cat'! Yet, the common man will not learn. And when the bullet goes through his head, his peers will for eternity blame the commandos for their carelessness and inefficiency.

You utter idiots! Leave those poor men alone! Cowards can only watch from a distance and laugh. Go home, maybe your wives and husbands will give you some action tonight!

KILL THE BLOODY TERRORISTS - Part 1

Everyone's been glued to news channels for the last two days. It is very disturbing, the biggest crisis they say, since 911. Terrorists shooting innocent people randomly and blowing up stunning heritage buildings that make Bombay what it is. Are these men utter idiots or what??? Who gave them the gun in their hands and ask them to go fight for Islam? Is this about Islam anymore? And why do these dimwits presume themselves to be representatives of the whole Islamic world, out there to avenge (imaginary) ill-treatment meted out to Muslims??? And WHO are these Muslims they are warring for? The same ones they're shooting at indiscriminatingly? The world needs to stand up and applaud these skunks for proving that one can still live while using 0% of their brain power. They have surpassed all limits of tolerance and purpose.

In this hour, we need a powerful and prominent Muslim leader to stand up and yell out that THEY are NOT part of this! That they do NOT seek terrorist help for anything and that they have been living happily and peacefully in a country which is as much theirs as anybody else's. He needs to direct his words at the terrorist world and tell them that his people have a heart and a perfectly functioning mind, which does not justify murder at any cost. This leader needs to voice the feelings of a million Indian Muslims who have been sitting before their TV sets, united in their solidarity and grief for those affected by this frightening tragedy. This leader needs to stand up and speak now! I just pray he's out there somewhere.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Coins

Coins fell from the left pocket of the upturned, coffee brown pyjamas. They ran in all directions to secure their own spots on the icy floor. Maybe they like the cold which easily seeps into their atoms and makes them like itself. A pleasant change from the warmth of the coffee brown pyjama pocket. Each coin made a different sound, a unique voice, and startled me. Then ensued the childish game of hide and seek. They are naughty, these coins. They roll away to dark corners, under mahogany tables and book shelves, beds and cushioned chairs. They demand that you bend your proud head, kneel before them on the freezing ground and lend your eyes in keen service. Fingers touch the coldness, impatient to feel the warm coins before they are infected with icyness. Got them! One by one I draw them into my curled palm with shivering fingertips, searching to ensure I got all. And one by one, they are forced through the pierced cap of the plastic Sil jam container which banked my treasure 11 years ago. As I hear them slap their new neighbours, they wail; disappointed to have been found, arrested and imprisoned, yet again.

Hot Water

You touch me with a thousand fingers, I sigh,
Desperate worry fast begins to die,
Vapour sails through many a jammed pore,
Far better than every before.

Addicted I am to you,
Like heated morning dew,
You make unfettered love to me,
No one guessed, so secretly.

You kiss my hair and change its shape,
So toxic but who wants escape?
Eyes drawn shut all the while,
Heavy lids, orgasmic smile.

Humbly surrendered to the overpowering element,
Willingly lost in this steamy covenant,
What plays behind closed door,
I promise you, no one will know.