Feeling stuck,
Feeling blue,
Feeling not too much
Unlike you
Both of us
On this noisy street
Both of us
With no time to meet
There’s so much now
I have to say
But this razor buzz
Gets in the way
You don’t look up
And I can’t turn
Sometimes, I forget
Sometimes, you learn
What can we leave
And where do we go?
And what will we find
We don’t already know
This grey space,
These crimson velts
This great white void
Soft like ermine felt
We’ll find all this,
Also, cold purple air,
The void is home
When we’re not there.
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This late night walk after a tough, rough unending day at work. I am so, so exhausted. But this...sweet chutney of wind, lane littered wit...

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This isn't exactly a feminist tirade, but this is written by a woman, and it is written in annoyance. You raise your girls to be sweet...
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I watched ‘Rang de basanti’. That, however, is not the point. Everyone now wants to go to Delhi and cruise around in jeeps at night. And tha...
4 comments:
Wow! :)
If only I had a fraction of your rhyming sense :)
Aha!
Interesting new picture.
Thanks Ramit. It's a picture from my recent trip to Delhi. :-)
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