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my office environment is well conversant with your snaps and love painted on it
one day a middle age person from Haryana complained of Dr. Manmohan Singh failure at devising jobs
I have heard such complaints from my village environment too
people earning in the rich bracket too expect Dr. Manmohan Singh to churn out dollars for them
I tell you a small real time environment
My Dad never even whispered of any complaint of any political set up
at my chance query he rather told me in a philosophical tone
road has been made, electricity has come
maintenance shall be there , later or sooner
he was probably that person I can never put complete colour to his genii nerves
he made a big , such a big room that dry husk could be stored for cattle farm for entire season
it was of probably that size that 40 or so sedans can be parked on empirical basis
all from local sources
No bullshit city life help
Now ask any bastard today
he will say
give a bottle of whisky first
may be
my brain can work.
I very well know of bloody contractor ladies around
shipra vashisht was lost to such eventuality
this time your co star mother, wife of crank lover of Dimple Kapadia in a movie known as Bobby : tell that bloody bitch I don't need any communication what so ever , to know what a damn snake or she snake is hatching and at what eggs.
I was telling you of my mom
her biggest flip flop was , she could not become sophisticated hypo crate
My mom was a beauty to reckon with at her times
I remember every one around her was jealous of her beauty
I have extremely nasty memories of my so called joint family systems
every body wanted to get something out of her
and instead played a bloody chanakya niti to let her down
one day she was suffering from an unknown disease
its of very early times
Dad called his family doctor from nearby town
he tried his best
but medicines failed to work
I was a silent observer of her cries
later on
probably her inner strength regained
what could be the only plausible memory with me
she was a reckless worker
I remember this day
Probably by this time
you must have realised
its neither your beauty nor talent
its my pencil only
but probably you still remain short of
what actually this pencil stands for
is it my love
or I want to be with you
or just
pass to kick off my lonely moments
and me
One day whilst reaching at village farm of my Dad
from my univ days
I ex temp ore asked my Dad
some thing of nuclear bombs
he smiled
all cities will be ones
village may get spared
but not another types of
Now when I see water in the local channels
I think
my Dad was more than a doctorate
and doctorates
are simply dummies bastards
but I forgot to ask
the thrashing machines
may be
I should keep quiet further
My Dad once politely whispered
I was busy in his small jobs
fetching tea , home made
serving the peoples at his farm
carrying empty gunny bags
Dad knew
small jobs are infact big ones
but his whisper
daughters should not be pursued
And now a days
even my kiran
she remains hooked
I never got that guts to tell
its ok you are far away in USA
I know homesickness is a bloody nonsense disease
I used to weep
sitting under a bloody old tree of mango , eaten by termites
I have sketched
a real science
the tree is probably still there
location is
Aggarwal boys hostel
sector 15
Chandigarh
India, Earth
but better not carry
your bloody i pods
My Dad often used to give me small jobs
he as well as me knew
my small days
they have made me know
the romance of mundanes
success or failure
its not a point of ponderance
only my Dad can create me
None other
mud house can create Taj Mahal
not vice verse
its my Dad who made me know
the quotient of love
but Dad has always a limitation
beauties
