Tu es belle
Et tu es toute a quoi je peux penser
Si je ferme mes yeux, je te vois
Si je les ouvre, tu est la
Je te sens
Toujours...
Partout...
Autour de moi,
Je sens ton corps dans mes bras
Tes yeux en regardant du ciel
Tes levres sur les miennes
Tu hantes mes reves
Tu hantes mes penses
Je te veux..
Dans ma vie...
Et je veux etre
Dans la tienne...
*********
Quand.....
Comment....
Est-ce que
Tu seras la mienne?
(Note: If you know french, edit me)
He lived aloof and alone, amidstthe woods afar
Where men didn't haunt him nor society his freedom mar
The nearest hut he knew was over a mile away
He slept alone by the night and lazed so by the day
He had a friend though, the only friend he ever had
A greyhound- old, daunted, smelly and equally sad
Two teeth short, it drooled and drooped to gravity
Much like its master, void of any levity
Master and hound, they owned an old wooden hut in the woods
It creaked and squealed to each of nature's changing moods
A dusty patched deerskin lay near the broken fireplace
And a rusty gun hung by the wall with wasted grace.
They spent all summer lazing and winter just grunting
Save when the seasons changed, and they'd go duck-hunting
There best days, though, were spent by the fire, eating burnt meat
Master lying lazily on the chair, hound at his feet.
Thus years passed one after another, time raced ahead
The master's back hunched over, the dog was bout half dead
Their muscles rested, their bones began to rot and defile
Hunting trips became rarer and shorter by the mile
One cold foggy morn, The old man scraped his rusty old gun
Fall ws at it's end and so was his only chance to have fun
Game'd be plenty now and he may get no chance again
Whistling out to hs oldest friend, he whispered- "Captain!"
Captain came limping, saliva droolin from his mouth
His hunter instinct not aroused by the geese flying south
But would follow his master till time did them apart
As both made their last foray into the forest heart
Their joints creaked as they walked, old master and half dead hound
They tramped the marshy land to where the duck abound
They arrived at the lakeside and hid among the reeds
Game was plenty and unaware, the man prepared his leads.
The rusty gun shook hard as it coughed out a bullet
A hasty flutter of wings as game and shot met
"Go, get him, Captain", the man ordered the dog, eyeing him
With forced alacrity, the hound limped and splashed to swim
But his upsurged joy gave his rot decaying bpomes no strength
And when he had splashed his way through half the target length
His hound instinct no longer gave him a helping hand
And he stopped and sank into the marshy sand
The master watched with taerful eyes, this entire death show
He cried, reached his hand out to the air, grieved head hung low
He stood up, walked home and brought back a rope, traumatised
With aged fatigue, he pulled out his only friend demised
His strength fading fast, he dragged the body to his lair
Sat near the fire, hound at his feet, and scratched its dead hair
The deerskin lay dirtily wet and splattered with mud
His throat was sore with cold dry cough and clothes smeared with mud
He stared into the fire as the room dimly it lit
He pulled over the dog and threw it onto the fire
Stench and smoke rose and spread in the room, not lessening his pain
Intoxicated, he lay still on the chair, never to rise again
Well, I created a blog but realised that i wasn't puttin up anything on it... so, for a start, here's some photographs of me n ma frens (whose photographs I have).
If you find yourself here, gimme a comment; if you don't, write me a comment anyway.
Left: Me n Pooja at ma place b4 the party
Right: Bidush: Leavin on a Jet (?) Plane
Left: Me n Rommel on the banks of Hussain Saagar 
Left:Rommel, Pooja n Me: Jst b4 the party at ma place
Right: Me n Shruti on her B'day
Left: The team with which i mde my (our) first film: Vaishali, Soni, Deborah, Me n Chintaka
Left: Rahul n me at the Ameerpet House
Right: Me n Rishava on the way from Chintaka's party to Johan's. Both of us three fourths drunk...Wat a weekend that was...
Left: Me n Jon, All caked up on Shruti's birthday
Right: Me n Ken on stage, College day
I'm not the dog in the picture, though we probably think alike. A few phrases describe me: Hard Thinker, Powerful speaker, Fierce writer, Lazy doer....
The IQ test on facebook says I scored 140, I don't think so.
I like everything in life, except those potholes on the road. I dream of a day when they will no longer be there.
People ask me if I rememeber my dreams when I wake up. Incidentally, I dream when I am fully awake.
I talk to myself, I cheer people up, I dance in the office washroom, I can hide seven pencils in my hair, I genuinely avoid hurting everyone, I work towards a better world. In short, I am what people would call weird. I love the title.
I am creative, intelligent, modest on the outside and arrogant on the inside, focussed, egoistic and eccentric, and I swear I pity those who are not.