A new way to begin the whole story again ...

Nah.... No ways .... Not again ...
Goldilocks and the three bears ...
Don't twist the story ....
Don't make me write it all over again ...
Not today ...
But, that is creativity ...
And, that is why am known as the Creative Genius ....
No, I am not full of myself ....
But, Yes I do agree I have a great imagination ...
An imagination that can change the World...
Even the World Order ...
So, am wondering if the story can be rewritten ...
This time BY ME.

The great story ...
A never ending story ....
Some words that would stir the souls ....
The souls of Earthlings ....
The art of story telling .....
Change the entire History of Mankind ...
With the stroke of my pen ...
Er.... With the keyboard of my Netbook....
Maybe ....
I guess, it is the right time ....
When I have all the time in the World ...
While on a sabbatical.

New friends that have come in my life ....
Newfound companionship ...
New territories to explore ....
New travails to write about ....
What a difference there is ....
Between the spoken and the written word.

A new way to begin a new story ....
 The old story rewritten ....
Waiting to hear the news ....
News of the sad ending of the old story ...
My ode to the unfortunate one ....
My obeisance to the long dead...
Flowers to be sent to the burial ground....
Lest it be left forlorn and barren.

Life is left best as it is ...
The supreme power doing his bit...
We are just puppets in his hand ...
Playing our parts to the core.

Let's begin the new story ....
Right Now.

Nanhe munne bachche teri muththi mein kya hai ....

She loved this song ...
She used to sing it for her Ram ....
She taught me this song ...
Albeli thi woh ...
Par thi anokhee...
Jisney duniya ke saare gham ....
Apne seeney mein sametey ....
Aur sirf khilkhilati haseen de di sabko ...
Her salwar used to reach my ankles...
Yet I wore them ...
Her kameez were my mini dress....
Yet I wore them ....
It was fun ...
And, I would find faults in her cooking ..
Harassing her just like that ...
At the end of which ...
We were ultimately happily smiling.
She knew I loved to eat a lot ...
She would always give me an extra serving of everything ...
I lived more with her than HIM....
Guess I was married to her ...
In my last birth.
She used to proudly show me off ...
My shlokas and Sampoorna Ramayan in four lines ...
I remember her...singing ...
De di hamein azaadi bina khadag bina dhaal ....
Taught the kids ....
Nanhe munne bachche teri muththi mein kya hai ...
Aaj meri muththi mein uski raakh bhi nahi ...
Sirf yaadein ...
Ek Maa ki yaadein.

Anu Man ......

Yup.... Anu Man ...
Chhota Brigadier Sahib's sibling...
Younger but much much sober and sound than him.
Why Anu Man?
Well, she is the protector of all the gals in school ....
She speaks the language of the guys...
The boys shiver at her sight ....
When the school bell rings for the day off...
All the kids stick to the walls of the school corridor...
Leading to the school bus depot...
WHY?
 Coz' anu Man bulldozes her way to the bus ...
 A bully with a heart of gold...
She is everybody's darling...
Especially all the other parents dote over her...
They love her stand up comedienne acts during get togethers....
They ask her to organize surprise Birthday parties for their kids...
That's an honour and a big responsibility ...
Which Anu man fulfills with happiness.
Anu man is every bit her Grandma...
Naughty yet the best organizer ...
And, the eye catcher in every event.
A creative genius...
Her special needs notwithstanding ...
But, she is the best ...
Her work going to England is no big joke.
She will do you proud one day ...
She already is doing you proud today ...
A basketball fanatic...
She is the ROCK and WALL ...
And, BULLDOZER of the School team.

Chhota Brigadier Sahib ....

Chota Brigadier Sahib ...
Has become a tall MAN ....
A Grandson you sure are proud of ...
Today, some of his mischiefs and fun acts...
He too is a stand up comedienne....
Most importantly ...
A heartthrob ...
Naturally ... the best genes have gone into making him....
Remember, you had asked ...
What are all these books for... when I got books alongwith me when I was newly married?
Well, The answer was for the future generation ...
Our little rented abode is full of books ...
And the prodigal Grandson loves to read ...
He is a veritable treasure trove of knowledge...
Even his College Professors are in awe...
Give him all the projects and assignments ...
Though he is a rebel....
In school too...
He was the apple of everyone's eye ....
The school's Brand Ambassador...
Spokesperson....
Was on Radio Mirchi too ...
 A natural RJ (Radio Jockey)....
Horrible dancer though ... When Salman asked him to dance on stage with him ...
He couldn't shake a leg....
An orator with a wit ...
And.... a sharp mind...
Though clouded now with teen hormones....
A Mass Media guy....
Running away from Gals ....
They are all over him always...
Hard to safeguard the lil' baby ....
But Chhota Sahib ... has anger like his Granddad....
He too is a perfectionist ...
Who wants everything to be perfect.
A picture perfect perfectionist...Longing for long hair ...
The retro look ....
Loves old classics ....
Be it books... music or movies.
He is everything a man ought to be....
He is everything you had dreamt of for him ....
The darling of everyone who meets him ....
He is indeed Chhota Brigadier Sahib.... only Grown Big now.

It Takes ...

It takes the typical person 17 months & 26 days to get over an 'Ex'

Omigosh, No!

TORTURE.....

Yikes! 

Going out of the Country for a long Holiday ... That should do the trick....

Best Remedy ... TO GET WELL SOON !!!

Happy...

Ek naya ...

Ek naya ishtehaar....
Ek naya inkaar ...
Ek naya ikraar ....
Ek naya aitebaar ...
Ek naya pyaar ....
Buss pyar hi pyar ....
Dher saara pyar...
Shani jaata hai toh bahut kuch de kar jaata hai...
Aur jab aata hai toh sab kuch loot leta hai.

Hail ...

Hail Mary!... Nah ... am writing about the hailstorm ....
The hailstorm that would turn our ....
Green English Grass carpet lawn ..... Pristine white.

The hail stones that we would gather ...
The dupatta the prodigal grandson would take ...
Green dupatta ...
And go out and collect the hail stones ....
It was fun ....
Zorro and Thunder ....
Thunder and the cows ...
Thunder and uninvited guests ...
Escorting everyone in ...
It was fun .....
The big refrigerator ... White Westinghouse ....
Hahha ... the jokes about Maa fitting into it ...
The grandson opening the fridge and sitting near the door on real hot days ...
The neighbours ...
The neighbourhood....
Vijay Singh .... How can one forget him?
The washing machine and chores divided....
The vegetable vendor ....
The Eunuchs arriving on 1st April and really ....
The kids and me hidden inside ...
And, then pleasing them with goodies...
Now, when I look back and recall ....
They were good old days ....
We humans have forgotten how to live life now...
All we do now is Rush, rush and rush ....
One place to another ....
Always in a hurry ...
No matter what ...
No time for relations....
No time for rituals.

I remember ....
The havans ....
The Akhand paath ..
Maa's mandir ...
Her Ram ....
Her Krishna...
Their clothes....
The Ramayana she would start on 9th September each year ...
And, end the next year on 9th September...
So much love...
True love.

High Tea ....

I remember the High Teas we used to have ....
Good fun ...
All the and goodies ...
Games of Tambola ....
Winning always ...
Sandwiches and fritters ....
That was life ....
What to wear .....
All the pearls displayed ....
table manners ...
Etiquette's .... imperative ,...
Isn't that life is all about ....
Style ... Impeccable style ...
Persona and Personality ...
Character and characterization ...
Loved the security that followed ..
The VIP treatment ...
We were the VVIPs always....
Weren't we?
We still are ...
Wherever we go ... people still salute us...
That's called personality...
When a DGP also stands up to respect a LADY.

Coming back to High Tea....
Strawberry shortcakes ...
Victoria sandwiches ...
The kisses in the air ...
All so old fashioned ...
But with style ...
Grooming to the core ...
That's how the elite live ...
That's how we live.

The tea served in teapots...
Sugar cubes besides ...
Milk poured to the right consistency ...
In tea cups and saucers of fine bone china....
Swarovsky crystals and Lladro porcelain discussed ...
So would discussions on politics be ...
Politics within the ranks...
It was fun ...
Not about the gifts or false pretenses ...
But more so of time spent ....
In knowing and observing human behaviour.

High Tea ...
At Rajbhavan  ....
An honour few get invited for ...
High Tea at Rashtrapati Bhavan....
An honour indeed.

Have seen it all ...
The good life ...
And, imagine was about to give it all up for a junkie ....
Nah... just in the nick of time ...
Realised MY MISTAKE ...
HIS FOLLY.

Can't forget my roots for a roadside Romeo ....
The Royals do not interact with the Commons .....
Oops I meant CONMAN.