Friday, 5 September 2014


"जब से तुम्हारे नाम की मिशरी होंठ लगाई है,
मीठा सा ग़म है, और मीठी सी तनहाई है।"

Salt, chilli, mint, cumin, different colours, labelled boxes,
Damn it, but where was the damn sugar,
Weren't her mornings bitter enough to ingest an obscure coffee,
Thanks Dad, she chanted in her breath again,
Thanks for marrying a bird to a somnolent vulture,
No wait! Make that ostrich, a very bald ostrich,
Who screamed like a hooker, and scratched like a dog,
Who's the woman, him or me?!
Can't easily recall if he ever gave an orgasm to me,
Oh, and don't come about talking to me of kids,
Maybe if I had a diaper wearing ass running around the lobbies,
Who knows, I might have felt better to be wedded to a set of balls of three,
None of which seem to devoid of sex, and sperm free,

And who was that woman from next door who told me when I was five,
That rich men, and four houses are enough for a lifetime?
Stupid man, what was the point,
When he couldn't even come to the cocktail practices,
Ha! Fought with me the other day about love,
Now since when did ostriches start falling in love?!
There he goes, again! Thanks, Dad!
Thanks for marrying me to this,
Gastronomically enriched farting piece of ostrich
Sometimes the gardener is better to look at,
Wait! Where's the gardener?!!

"लट बिखराए, चुनरिया बिछाए,
बैठी हूँ मैं तेरे लिए।"
She thinks I have stomach ulcers,
And there he stood looking at himself in the life-sized mirror again,
I'll see the day she loses her hair, how long does she live in this bathroom,
Her stupid father promised me a lively free bird,
Bird? What bird? Where's the bird?!
Has been growing serpents on her head with all my money,
A decade of burning my money like fuel,
And did it ignite? Didn't even have some passion in sex,
Keeps calling me an ostrich,
Now when was the last time she knew how to kiss,
What does she know, how many videos I have to go through to tolerate her in bed,
She thinks I haven't seen the way she lurks around that penniless gardener,
Like a dewy-eyed puppy, begging for orgasms,
What was my father thinking when he told me in college,
That a lot of money and four houses will keep any woman happy?
I hope he's turning in his grave knowing how this one is doing!
And how dare she call me an impotent,
Did anybody inform her there's a right time to conceive?
Shouted at me to have my balls checked! MY BALLS!
Haven't I paid enough already to grow my hair for her,
Now she wants me going about having elaborate tests,
Neither have my hair grown back, neither is my sperm attacking her eggs,

Wait! Hair. Pills. Where's the damn manual?!
*May result in impotency. Consult with Physician*
Goddamn it, my sperms!

Pfft. Marriages.
Happy to be back,