Queen of Laziness...

Ask me to smile...i may not...cos it might pain my cheeks

Ask me to cry...i may not...cos it might trouble my eyes

Ask me to listen...i may not...cos it might bother my ears

Ask me to play...i may not...cos it might trouble my body

Ask me to work...i may not...cos it might tire me totally

But one thing you ask me ...i might never say no

Ask me to sleep...i will...cos i m titled

the "QUEEN OF LAZINESS"

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"Until we meet again"

One Two Three,they came and I lost my count. All in an embrace brown and blue with a band of white. I clutched my ring But missed the caress. The waves faded into the waves But I had no shoulder to rest. The vastness ahead swallowed my tears and echoed from a distant land "Until we meet again."

Red signal

The light turned red.From a distant land,shot into reality,Sam applied the brakes.The black Scorpio's tyres screeched.Friction held it back.The dark lanky traffic police looked uncomfortable with a 'who the hell man' look.Sam took a deep breath. "I have no regrets.why should I?",Sam kept on telling himself.He searched his pockets for a cigarette and got one.He lighted it and took a puff.He felt a wave of relaxation soothening his tired muscles. The light turned green.Feet on accelerator.20..40..60...80km/hr..The Scorpio zoomed.Straight roads lay ahead.No traffic to bother him much.But just one thought.Should he go back?Should he appologize?Should he seek one more chance?He pressed harder. Chances come hard.She is leaving. "Amy is leaving the town."The accelerator almost kissed the metal. "Amy is leaving." The memories of Amy,once a force behind his being, was a 'parasite' feeding his thoughts. "We have parted.Now why should I bothe...

Kochettan's 'chaya kada'

The smell of hot Samosas frying in the oil filled her with memories of a land she had long forgotten.The land of dreams,hopes,aspirations,laughter,smiles.Not to forget,the pain,tears,and wound it had left behind.The river in the picture, on the wall suddenly confluenced with the imagery in her mind of the still deep waters of Manimala.The days she had spent on the banks throwing pebbles at hoppers,creating ripples(any bum's delight)gave her an impetus to think further. All memories ushered in fresh thoughts and sour tears.The aroma of the piping hot masala tea filled her thoughts.Slowly,gradually she was sipping hot memories.There stood the small,yet happening place-Kochettan's 'chaya kada'.Home meant memories.Memories meant her village.Village meant Kochettan's 'chaya kada'. Her days started with a distant glance of the 'chayakada' from her room in the upper storey.She would peep out through the curtain at the shack, at the corner of the road.The ...

A DIFFERENT BEAT

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