The situation at home was very fluid that day

Their father was away and it was their birthday

He was supposed to return that morning

But the flight got cancelled without any warning

The older one was reconciled to his absence

But the younger one so wanted his presence

He was upset, angry and refused to listen

His innocent eyes with unshed tears did glisten

She was absolutely at her tether’s end

Seeing him so woebegone her heart did rend

The whole day had passed by at a frentic pace

She had had no time to put plan B in place

When the bell rang, she got up wearily

A delivery boy called out cheerily

There was a large oblong box on the floor

She called the kids and stood puzzled at the door

They pushed the heavy box inside

The sender’s name was written on bold outside

She could have cried, so grateful was she

Her son opened the parcel with delighted glee

His father had the foresight to order the bike he had coveted

Finally a major breakdown had been averted.

Idioms, anyone!

Let’s not beat around the bush

But bite the bullet straightaway

People offering advice

Are dime a dozen

They will recommend anything

Without trying or testing

Don’t go by hearsay

Their words do not carry conviction

And you may find yourself on sticky wicket

It would be no use crying over spilt milk then.


She had always been in love with love

So when she eventually met her love

She wanted to shout from the rooftops

And broadcast to the entire world loudly

But he was a private person

Not one to wear his heart on his sleeve

He could not shed his inhibitions

And display his emotions for all to see

But he loved his moonstruck lover

To the moon and back

So the only concession he made was

To hold her hand publicly!

In this garden

Don’t be dismayed by the disorderliness of this garden

The verses are not planted by type in pretty rows

Some weeds have grown haphazardly

And the ornamental patch is in shambles

They provide relief from too pretty poems

But if you look carefully

You can find some jewels here too

They may look like uncut, unpolished variety

But they are precious nonetheless

I know it is unlike other gardens

But it is quite original in its concept.

Death by starvation

I have known her for long

She always lent me an ear

When I couldn’t share my

deepest fears with anyone

But unbeknownst to me

These scraps that I fed her

Of fears, insecurities, jealousies and angst

Made her strong

So strong that she overpowered me

Running my life

Alienating me from those I held close to my heart

Alone and deprived, I became her fodder

Suspicious and accusing, pushing everyone away

Lonely and bereft I became an outcast

Aghast at what I had become

I tried to wrest control back

It was a long and bloody battle

But through sheer doggedness I persevered

One step at a time

Feeding her no scraps

Pushing her into the deep dark recess of my mind

Hoping that darkness and starvation would kill her

And her demonic devious dance

Also the insidious invasive intrusions

Putting me in invidious situations

And I did succeed to an extent

But little did I realise

Killing this beast is not easy

Everyday she raises her ugly head

Her caterwauling wails

Her whip snapping ways

Her suggestive whispers

And her beguiling cries

Pierce my heart and I want to rush back to her

And it would be so liberating to surrender

But I hate the person I become enslaved by her

A cowering, blubbering mass

So my efforts to starve her to death continue.


He deliberately started softly,

Then gradually gained momentum

His baritone filled the hall

With its deep resonance

He had chosen the soliloquy carefully

Bringing forth all the nuanced emotions

The stage was where he belonged

He had worked so hard for this chance

Everything had been orchestrated to perfection

It was do or die for him

For his selection depended on this performance

As he delivered the last loaded line

The gathered audience remained quiet

Taken aback, he fell on the floor

Only to be stunned by the thunderous standing ovation.