tomato sandwich

slices of tomato thin

juicy and tangy within,

dash of salt n pepper thrown

on a crust golden brown.

Now, thats a sight

that could whet your appetite !

illesha's 7th birthday

On the 7th birthday of Illesha
she had a birthday bash-a
she'd invited julianne, Ashu and joshua
Ashu was skittish
and Julianne the 4 year old, impish
Josh was a little brash
while Esha was her usual snobbish.
After some games and balderdash
They were all famished.
Babita the mom said - "Go wash
and get ready to replenish!"
Table was laid and Mom served with flourish.
Josh looked at his plate with relish
and spoke like a true south Indian with polish
"potato mash - aa ?"
"Nope. said Mom. Pasta made in a rush-a."
Later in the evening, the cake was out.
But, where were the 7 candles
tiny and garish
Dad bought the previous day ?
"Julianne hid them! Esha cried in anguish.
"No. didn't do" said Julianne, eyes with tears awash.
confusion ensued. Did the candles vanish ?
Search was on - nothing was spared
pillow covers, trunks nor trash.
amidst the chaos, Mom, in a haste to finish
gave in to her instinct to demolish
and carved up the cake. Gosh!
Esha - "who cut the cake ?"

nostalgia

Music springs from the letter "y"
of the old fishpond toy.
I think of the small hotel room
Ashu jumping on the bouncy bed
the cold april air of Denver
and melting snowflakes as winter ends.
Of open spaces so vast
that a strange calm was cast.
no voices were heard
and no humans stirred.
only by the distant sounds
of rubber on the highway
punctuated by an occasional horn
was the silence torn.
The room smelt of indian spices
and steaming buttered chapatties
- familiar smells and tastes
that we consumed with longing
and washed down with tropicana juice.
I'd picked up the toy at K-mart
to keep ashu busy
in the room during the day.

recession

what can I say ? what can I write ?
but that things do'nt look too bright ?
rightsized, downsized or redeployed
or still employed with pride?
looking out for a raise ?
stick to what you've got I'd advise.
I hope the next quarter
brings news a lot better.
and the next year ?
I'd like a grand bonus
that ends the slowness !

jammed for life

can any one be reticent about the traffic in bangalore ? I've seen even the most timid and inhibited types let loose a barrage of pent up emotions when they're confronted with this topic. For others who have seen the city change, it evokes memories, sights and smells of a quiet garden city that it once was. Having spent part of my childhood in B'lore, I remember it as a quaint town with a cosmopolitan population. Returning to B'lore 25 years later, I found it had turned into an ugly shadow of its past. This is a classic example of bad planning or lack there of. And then, there is a half hearted effort to patch up things .. as life goes on ..

you could get mad
you could be sad
you might be stressed
or even depressed
you could complain
or fret in vain
you could lose your patience
or curse in silence
you might even question
your life's destination
if you have to drive thru
the roads of bengaluru
the one ways are there
but the other's under repair
the lights are there
but working ones are rare.
you think your light's green ?
no! its the other sides light you've seen
to go or not to go ?
have you ever been confused so ?
remember our priceless tradition -
is to blend with the confusion.
just stick to that dictum
and dont break the system.
most indians are color blind
and traffic lights they do not mind.
besides following rules is stupidity
and beneath our dignity.


If you're at an intersection
there's no time for consideration.
we dont believe in right of way
the one who drives faster has his say


OK. so its not a rosy picture.
its worse! I dont even see a future.
All I hear is grand plans
of metros, wide roads and trams
that in rumor surface
and then die without a trace.
nothing's changed in a decade
and dont see nothin coming Iam afraid.


Then, whats life without hope,
how else with reality do we cope ?
I would hate to assume
that I'd have to resume
my journey to work
from home without a break
resting for a drink
or catching a wink.
To spend my life waiting
at some level crossing,
or retire enroute
a lengthy commute.

ode to the indian spitter

Why is that we pride ourselves for being among the cleanest people (we deride the western habit of using toilet tissues and the occasional shower ), but we dont seem to show the slighest hesitation in throwing filth in public places and desecrating our sorroundings in every conceivable way ?
this is my first post, and is dedicated to our not so endearing habit ..

spit, splat, spit !
why do we spit
where we stand or sit ?
on unsuspecting passers -by
on streets we walk by
from buses on the window side
from cars we shine with pride
on the freeway cruising
at the traffic light cursing
In over crowded alleys
In dark, silent gullys
with jets of betel chewed
or juices of tobacco brewed

does the traffic make us sick
or do we just get a kick
do we salivate in excess
or just swallow a little less
do we hate clean walls
or just like to mark them all
are we too senseless to care
or do we eject in despair

can all this ever change ?
and india get a clean image ?
will our streets be spit free ?
to a tolerable degree ?
i must hope that'll come true
for i hate to step on goo.