He wanted to be rich. He wanted to be rich so desperately, that he could do anything for it. He wanted to be rich so that he did not have to think Before spending the 100 rupees in his purse....
It’s a gloomy cloudy day; I run with all my might, There’s a Dinosaur behind me, She says everything is alright. I search for a compassionate face; The ants have closed shop, They say look even deeper, Find the first...
Beyond the horizon of furor Rests my philopolis, Where love takes tint like Sun through the day. Where a song shapes dreams Of lush spring plums. Words weave wisdom
Bombay – Thy presence is a mirror to my dreams, To visit thee, my heart screams! Being one with thee, was all I needed, Delays galore, by and by I succeeded. Thy first sight came in a flourish,
My life without me, A speculum through which I see, Hermes’ lies and Thoth’s folly, An awakened flower, pleading for a bee.
Yellow Pages of My Life I feel scared To explore the box of reminiscence. Who knows,
I wonder how it is to wander, Aimless to the core, Where food comes with the thunder, And shelter on the shore.
Two plump toes went printing, The map of a hungry heart. Like a flame in wind, Gliding, resting, Smearing milestones in smoke.
Statutory warning – Cigarette Smoking Is Injurious To Health. Statutory relief – Non-Smokers fall sick as well. “Mukesh was not harmed during the composition of this poem.” You made me fall in love so fast, My smoked romance with you...
Born as injected, Now as we travel to the corners of the mind, Were the soul is shackled, No friend No foe, But misery prevails