The Prey

Nature’s child, in a jungle so wild
Lived a deep-eyed soul which knows no foul.
Long lurked the hunter, in his own banter,
Waited in the darkest of reed and paid no heed.

The soul went wildering in a spate to find a mate.
Out came the hunter with the choicest of splinters.
The soul was made angel, and all what she was not
She cried like a child and vowed to tie the knot.

An everlasting bond, a sincere voice
Was all she had thought.
Only to know that she was the prey.
A rehash, a cry, but never ever did pray.

The hunter left for a while in vain,
Not letting her know that he was in pain.
For his hunt was over and he became hunted
As the soul made him complete and gave him all what he wanted.

Nature’s child, in the jungle so wild, the hunter unites with the soul
How can love cease to exist?? When you know not foul.

The Corporate Jungle

Serious faces, business phases, all cramped into one.
Puppet makers, trumpet blowers, all tangled into one.
Matching ties, faking smiles, all plastered into one.
Gossip mills, mundane drills, all gorged into one.
The corporate jungle is a creepy place,
With no time for care.
The corporate jungle is serious business,
With more care for fare.

Meetings galore, deadlines ashore
The jungle seems deadly.
Happy lunches, mid-day munches
The jungle seems friendly.
Fun-filled work, creative perks,
The jungle looks it’s worth.
Lots of money, loads of honey,
The jungle is fun at the end of a month.

Lots of wolves hovering around, the jungle sure is scary.
Lots of help catering around, the jungle is also a fairy.
Love it, hate it, a pool of politics,
The jungle fails to cease.
Hate it, love it, a myriad of emotions.
The jungle is all set to please.

The perfect getaway

I woke up to the cool breeze,
To find him on the bed's crease.
The sun started to play on his face,
The air began to way down the place.
I mulled over this perfect holiday
Where technology is banned,
When we decided to pamper ourselves
Reviving our newly-wed plans.

After years of monotony,
We seem to blend in well.
But as we unwound for the day,
We found that the zing was truly dull.

Idea struck at once,
Packed our bags in a jiffy.
Sent our little angels to granny 's
And we to discover the perfect getaway.

Now, here I am, caressing his hair
Sipping hot caffeine while waiting for our order.
Breaking the fast, we hit the road
and ran until the guilt of our buttery morning got bored.
We headed back to our cottage,
Tempting to call and check on the juniors,
Refraining from the ban,
we cosied up to a sensuous plan.

Lunch beckoned, we were lazing still,
Finally got out to explore the little fishing town.
Ate at a small inn, and even had him buy me a gown.
The day passed by swiftly, we forgot our watches .
The sun's dance got over, setting into chilly wet prances.
The haven beckons yet again, the tired eyes wanted some sleep,
Only before we curled up to the fire, and sent our radar down the steep.


The couple of days were just enough,
We promised we'd do it again.
Real life calls again, but we couldn't stop grinning again and again.
The perfect getaway worked wonders,
With it revealing a newer us...
The feeling of euphoria still sweeps us,
Reckoning every solar revolution to make our new world rotations.

The female collar

She was born as an apple of papa’s eyes,

She was the princess of her mama’s smiles.

Nothing but the best suited her,

Be it knowledge, edge or even pamper.

She knew only the best,

Never ever looked unto rest.

She was given life’s test,

With utter triumph on papa’s chest.

She carried on life with the same zeal

as she would have done like a kid.

Carefully carving a niche for herself,

she quickly climbed the social-rung ladder.

Then her life turned for ever,

finding her prince charming in that papa’s choice.

He didn’t come on a horse or so,

but had the choice of foreign shores.

She decided to take a break,

from the hectic work she’d been doing.

She started dreaming

of the wonderful life she’d be spending.

Life did become busy,

with newer friends and newer places.

For sometime, she felt over the top,

and then she cried like a lost puppy.

She thought of reviving her lost charm,

and slowly toiled on it again.

This time,it was difficult.

They said, breaks aren’t too healthy.

Yet she tried on and on,

only to get what she aspired.

For a while, the past revived.

Was she happy, she was more than glad.

Those endless days,

Those crying nights,

She suddenly found not that bad.

Then came reckoning the stork.

Which was a pleasant surprise.

Confusingly, she embraced mommyhood

As her own mommy did.

When did we say life’s easy?

She had to decide between the cradle and her chair.

The female collar stubbornly clenched her wrist,

While the little fella still clung on to her fist.

She hung on, she survived.

only to make her days even more parched.

She ached for weekends,

or for a little break.

But as they said, breaks aren’t good.

she continued to wear the collar and even the "hood".

All female collars have similar stories,

Wondering why the male versions don’t.

They might have their own priorities,

But ask them to live a day as a woman,

They’ll understand the feminine curiosities.

For, life as a female is bundled with duties,

Like it or not, she does it with the same responsibilities.

The female collar needs no support

The female collar just needs a great salute.

PS : Dedicated to all those women out there, trying to balance work and home... especially to my personal fav, Shanti akka who's never known what rest means. I salute em all. :)

Glitter ...

Behind the golden doors,
Beneath the silver sheets…
She yearned for normal floors
With real food and sweets.

Alas, she needed to maintain
That glass-hour figure.
So she took the diet-routine
And asked her fans to go-figure.

She still waited for that man
Who would take her to the sands.
But she had to come back to that man
Who shredded her to strands.

She craved for some real sleep,
He asked her to get it when she dies.
She craved for a real life,
He always forced her to fake smiles.

She closed her eyes and saw those struggling years,
Those were the times, when she shared a cup and tears.
The small-town girl who wanted to make it big.
And was ready to do even the biggest jig.
She found this cute guy,
Who took her to the beach.
And with his company,
She could not think of breach.

Life did take a turn,
When she sang and pranced in a bash.
She was given this huge break,
By the biggest producer with a splash.
She had to choose between the two,
Either the beach and roses or The bed of roses.
The bed of roses was what she chose,
Not knowing it was full of thorns.
Now she bites her lip in vain,
Not knowing as to how to toss.

She earns all day and night,
As the heart-throb of millions.
She weeps all day and night,
About the wasted bank millions.
She still dreams of those laughs along the spate.
Now all that she has is to laugh at her own fate.

Glitter and gloss are nice from far.
She only hoped she hadn’t gone this far.
The only hope she got is through her songs and album.
To let her stay alive even after her body ceases to hum.
All that glitters isn’t gold.
It would sink in someday, before she grows too old.