Love War and Computers!
Usual Bull:This is a work of fiction except for the computer related information, which is authentic, surprisingly. We do not assume any responsibility of coincidences related to anybody living or dead and above all, those about to die, after reading this.
PREFACE
Life can be harsh and all of us try our very best, (and if we don’t, we should) to bring humour in the colourless day to day existence we drag through and call life. Once a friend of mine commented that I was too intense for my personal good and social popularity but then I’ve never been the I-have-heard-a-joke- today-let-me-share-it kind of a person. My humour is original and always circumstantial, sometimes unfortunately sardonic in it’s irony. Thus if we were ever to meet on the road, I may not be able to tell you the latest joke in circulation, I may just say something nasty about some politician or any other general aspect that touches our lives, and no matter how goody-goody you are, my sarcasm will definitely bring humour to you, not because it is biting but because it’s true. I can never change this and forgive me, while I don’t apologise. Though the best kind of humour is pure, simple and brief because brevity, Shakespeare would agree, is the soul of wit. I have made an humble attempt to bring forth this kind of humour. I hope for my sake that you like it. Poetry, my dear friends is not a collection of words brought together for their rhyming criterion as in moon, June, soon etc. Poetry is an emotion which flows. Rhyming a limerick might be good for contemporary humour, but soul poetry or love poems flow. And curbing these within the limits of rhyme would be a sacrilegious sin. Thus in this book, in the romantic bit, you will find true poetry, : soul poetry. Don’t let it disdain you. Just sit back and enjoy it. Maybe it might bring back nostalgia, in all it’s prominence, which is the true test of poetry (or a song), where the sole criterion rests on the ability of a piece of paper to connect somewhere in the reader’s life. This book is probably the most important book of my life, not just because it is the first I’ve written (or rather had published), but also because completing it had become a challenge (something, I’m too weak and insecure to resist). It was completed in the record four-day time slot. Writing this has brought me closer to my own self, besides making me realise how determined and ambitious I really am. Now while this book has brought the life back into me, I hope the least it can do is bring a smile onto you. Here’s to us, may there be many more. After a 1000 nights, sometimes, the sun shines again. May it always shine on you and your fiery spirit. Thank you for buying this book, that’s all the encouragement I ever needed. Ah! Before I forget, I would like to (as is the tradition and even I can be conventional at times ) dedicate my work to all the people involved in the evolution of computers. Without whom this book would be an uninspired piece of literature. I would also like to thank a certain Chirag Udanatkhat (I hope I have got the spelling right). Chirag :Remember in 6th std, we used to swing on the tree together. Well that time you were my bestest friend, though, in 7th I thought you were a jerk. Well frankly I still think you are a jerk but then you are the bestest friend I have. Thanks for your help.
SURAJ MUKHI – THE BIRTH AND OTHER GORY DETAILS
AD 1957
10 years after independence
in Sare Jahan se Achha[1]
9 years after Gandhi’s death
Known to Bachcha Bachcha [2]
Tragedy struck with an impending wrath
Tragedy struck yet again
North Bharat[3]: Saharanpur[4]
Mr. and Mrs. Mukhi, the peaceful couple
made a mistake of their lives
and lived to regret the caused trouble
till the age of ninety-five
Young Bubble-in-the-bath Mukhi
was born a December morn
Curly haired and Baba faced
Round all over and
voice of saxophone
The doctor was shaken and stirred
When he heard the baby jingle
As his hair stood on the edge like fur
And he vowed to remain single
Bathed daily in Johnson’s’ lotion
the baby grew healthier, day and night
Fat – full of magic potion
And gruesome was the sight
Saharanpur was a land
of deserts and trees
with simple people
with smile like the breeze
living in thatched huts
Simple people; simple needs
Red was the sunrise
and dry the climate
As nature quietly disguised
The poverty in the state
And farmers felt patriotic
towards their occupation
And carried on the family labour
with unusual gusto and passion
The artisans brought art in the barren land
But due to the green revolution
Green became, what once was the sand
As culture and art converged into a fusion
But 7th December was a historic occasion
A son, in India, is always revered
Amidst the chaos and confusion
The excitement reached pitch-fever
The Haveli[5] : the household
filled to the rim
cousins and cousins’ cousins
A nightmarish dream
The whole family tree
the same old family story
Friends, visitors and outsiders
in the usual gold, pomp and glory
Elephants and cows
Camels and horses
Bullocks and ploughs
People came in masses.
The whole village of
Saharanpur got together
to see the baby who rumoured to
resemble a goose – feathered
Vimla, Champa, Thumki
and even Chandramukhi came
The Gaonwalas[6]
spat out paan[7]
without as much as a hint of shame
The naming ceremony
The house hold dance
All the guests when
saw the fat kid were en-tranced
The Sitar and the Tabla played
As the dancers dressed in merry gold
bright red and pale yellow and sway
As their body rhymed to a mold
Naming time and suggestions followed
“Obelix”, someone bellowed
While somebody else suggested Munna
a name associated with a lot of joy
But Munna was the name
in Saharanpur of every second boy
And suddenly out of the blue
the baby cried
Even heaven’s very
ears were tried
Loud and even thunder shied
A heart-patient immediately died
Some one lodged a police complain
to the local Darogah
( One (?) of those corrupt police officer )
The Eunuchs ran away
Satyanash Jai, Hai Ram !Hai Allah ! ‘
( Riot material- Religious words compatible to Jesus Christ in
USA, God s(h)ave the queen in UK and Goddammit in Australia. )
The temple deity changed it’s posture
`Sacrilege ! Sacrilege’ and tears
Ramji and Sitamai ( Gods, no further comment dared)
stood there, lost the smile
In anguish and in fear
with their fingers tightly
thrust in their ears
The sound made the
whole village insane
unanimously they decided
to call the child a `Pain’
( Short for Pain-in-the-drain area. American Technology, Terminol-ogy
- whatever. )
But even the best decision
must falter
As the most well-planned weddings terminate
at the alter
A good Samaritan
on the way
suggested `Suraj’
( Sun, misused in this case )
and did his good
deed for the day
The baby with the thunderous sound
Scared everyone around
Precautionary measures
were simple
Mamma Mukhi hooked him
on rubber nipples
His teacher
tried the cello tape
SM ended up
looking like an ape
Mamma fed him more
So talk he would less
School friends gave him a store
of chewing gum, to prevent a mess
And college friends suggested
smoking,
- chain
So from extremities
he would refrain
Needless to say again
he got hooked to smoking and nipples
The formula is
basically very simple
But psychic forces
were on work
And behind every psychic,
danger lurks
SM suffered from
Computer-era premonition
And that gave way to
his weird mode of action
Once in the middle
of the night
he screamed and
the household awoke in fright
The servants near him never dared
As they lived a constant night-mare
He blabbered foreign words
FORTRAN, Basic, Dbase, Pascal, COBOL
Mama Mukhi was petrified
And the local exorcist was called
The exorcist was a religious fanatic
dressed in saffron, eyes wide
“Alakh Niranjan”, (Abracadabra, I guess)
not a sight for the meek
As he danced, a devil around the child
He sacrificed three chickens and two goats
But the child was made of a thicker hide
And chanting went off-note
The exorcist’s brains were fried
The ceremony lasted four days and night
With color, flowers, more chanting and fire
Torture and more torture to remove the evil
Unfortunately the exorcist gave up his desire
It was too much of a trial
Grew up, the local burden
Mamma sent him to school to learn
It was an open school popularized
by Rabindranath Tagore
A banian tree, a open board
and English language in galore
Suraj Mukhi got ready
for Master Sahib at school
who asked him to recite ABC
And SM started “A – B – ” like
a fool
Then suddenly he blabbered
“C – C. . C ” he stammered
“C is a high level language “
started Suraj Mukhi
“Shut up, watch your usage”
screamed the Masterji
“C what about A and B”
“No, No, Sir only C”
“SM’s language” thought Masterji
was worse than people in South
And for one fleeting moment, He wanted
to stuff cow-dung in SM’s mouth
Masterji could not even spell Computers
And foolish as a typical teacher
He tied SM upside down the nearest tree
As he hollered all the way to Agra, ” Set me free
Set me free”
Mumtaz Mahal shuddered in
her luxurious grave
From the wrath of SM’s voice
even death couldn’t save
Shahjahan shouted “Oh shit”
and hit the roof
“If only my Taj Mahal
would have been sound proof”
The village had a black bull
The temperament was cool
The horns as stiff
as a women’s wet dream
Bull and SM always engaged in a tiff
And poor SM was creamed
It struck him time and again
the bond grew unbreakable
And SM’s back on the verge
of becoming breakable
Leaving V. M. in acute pain
Their contract unshakable
The bull had a thing about SM’s butt
And anguished shout created a bigger rut
Whenever the occasion arose
and it was free
But the positive outcome here was
SM learned to flee
Exercise enough for an applause
A funny sight to see
And day by day fat Suraj
grew more or less, fit
Thanks to his early encounters
with bull shit
He was banned from the traditional butter
‘Cause Doctor sahib
( The village quack )
sent him on a diet
to improve his stutter
And girls – to them, he would stick
He played the flute for the ones in the village
Inspired by the epics
SM had long lost the air of a sage
He and his tricks
Smiled at them, eyed their waist
But before I forget let me commend
In women, he always had good taste
He went to the river bank once too often
In the pretext of mango farming
Dreamy eyed and features soften
where the girls were bathing – charming
And amidst the girlie chatter and jargon
Our friend played the mouth organ
When the village dhobi (the laundryman) Sukhia Ram chanced
And believe me – you, the rest is as true
SM was trying to steal girlie clothes
And Sukhia Ram beat him up black and blue
Lost the family good name
SM the Casanovic stud
bringing on a lot of shame
Their popularity hit the mud
And every where that the girls went
Our lamb was sure to go
Further inspired by the epic heroes
He made some excellent foes
Dad was tried, tired and lost
“Oh hell” he shouted “Oh hell”
“Suraj, ” thundered he,
“Go and jump in a well”
Suraj cried “Thank you very much, Dad”
He loved bathing in the well
With the few friends he had
While Dad’s record was stuck at “Oh hell”
Sometimes God gives more than plenty
He was never very diligent
But everyone agreed, by no means scanty
That he was very intelligent
An extremely kind and generous soul
Specially towards girls
He might have been A*. hole
But he really loved animals
His favorite was a green eyed cat
Like him it was pretty fat
Furry animal with a Ph.D.
in giving Tit for Tat
Scratched Papa Mukhi. And
Next day it was found dead
SM was in a terrific trauma
“Dad why did you do that”
“Son, life is a drama”,
explained dad – philosophic
“We play different roles
In acting I’m an old hat
So today I played Curiosity
Sorry about the cat”
Anyway time passes for every one
and thus he grew
As we learn from our mistakes
He made quite a few
SM had become a rage in the village
And Papa and Mamma decided
To sent him to a Bombay college
In their judgment they prided
College Life.
AD 1972
Bombay was a marriage gift in 1661
- An Island
The city kissed Arabian Sea waters
from King of Portugal to King Charles II
of England
As he wedded his daughter
Crowned by Gateway of India
The historical wedding gift
The Europeans may have had
a constipated upper lip
But by no means were they thrift
It was passed on to
East India Company
And than on 15th Aug. 1947
India became free
Bombay stands at 18. 58 North
and 72. 50 East
A combination of seven Islands
Now the gap was bridged
A Gujarat and Maharashtrian
culture scramble
The locals call it Mumbai
after a certain Mumbadevi temple
Bombay is a chief trading center
Thanks to the British rule
The commercial capital of India
In the business capsule
India and Pakistan were having
border disputes
As black-outs were raving
wartime tributes
Suraj entered through Victoria Terminus
And fell in love with the city
right from first
Joined a Jai Hind college
Fell for a girl – Sara was the name
Forgot the furtherance of knowledge
To contemplate – What a babe, what a dame.
Had to compete with Jain Sandeep
He was his best friend
whose heart gave out a massive bleep
whenever she touched his hand
Sandy and SM both loved her
She was undoubtedly the best
But strange their rivalry never grew
Though their love for her reached the crest
But SM had a better chance
Thanks to the bull now he was slim
There eye contact set a trance
And that unknown gleam
The college was a beautiful place
In structure, Old English stone
As SM chased Sara in haste,
And Sandy was left all alone
college, SM with Sara Madison
went for English pictures
James Bond, Clint Eastwood & Clark Garrison
Became a regular feature
Send her Violets in Valentine
Greeting in Christmas
Poetries- 999
Over her, he created a big fuss
She became Miss Jai Hind
Thanks to the Mukhi wealth
She became the rose queen
As 800 roses, in her lap fell
New years was a lot of fun
They danced cheek to cheek
Elvis’ LOVE ME TENDER
And boy did they freak
Venus Hotel a regular joint
They freaked on Coca Cola
She was Leo, He – Sagittarius
The attraction was solar
They say good times don’t last
But in no time three years had passed
While, days and night Sandy burned
And life went on he
hardly learned
He could not break free
They went to hanging gardens
Bunking classes every now and again
And to the Cream Center
Sometimes for a ride in trams
and trains
It was the Beatles era
And SM looked like a Beatle
with his hair anew
And he was great when in
the contest, he song,
LOVE ME DO.
They went for cricket match
The city’s favorite game
And in the Pavilion they always sat
Only the best for his dame.
And horse-cart ride
through the Queen’s Necklace
Romance with caliber and pride
And exquisite taste
The Campers’ Club
went for a hike
to a water falls
15 km away
They went on bikes
This was the place where he
first kissed her
And later frequented oft
when he missed her
She wrote a poem here :
Soft and transparent
Pure and clean
moved the stream
away from the waterfalls
between the greens
Clear crystal
As sunlight
caused a ray of gleam
A leaf floating across
A lovely dream
A reed bent towards
the flow
in the wild
Not a soul knows
Green and green
and then a yellow leaf
Glitter and fascination
The hikers’ shoe
worn not out
nor the spirit flagged
Nature and quite
And the
Cuckoo vocabulary
piercing through
soft yet sound
his birth right
Soft the mud
And high the grass
Frogs and snakes
hidden in the grass
Disturbed
The natures child
Mossy and cold
the rocks, the rains
in the wild
yet tamed
By the force unseen
The stones
mossy, black
brown and green
The waterfalls
distant the sound
And now and now
and now and
just around
Fifty feet free fall
and spray and rains
The chill in the clean
a seldom sun
peaks with luster
a rainbow
with seven intact
Beauty and splendor
Feminine the gender
The roar unending
Glamour, yet raw
and thus unpretending
responding to nature’s call
Making love out of
nothing at all.
That night
the hikers left
and the campers stayed
And Sara and Suraj
with campers remained
They made love
in nature’s treat
describing it would be
a trifle indiscreet
The rains died
and the camp fire rustled on
and remained the night
till dawn
That night’s memory, till day
(Her hair like a lioness’ mane)
always brought Suraj
a great deal of pain
Summer came and the
college got over
Over was the fun tour
As he was beckoned by
his parents
to Saharanpur
Three months away
from her
His whole emotional
setup was shaken
and stirred
TRAGEDY
Summer came and Sara left
for Lonavala, a hill station
While Sandy waited. Poor kid, trapped.
He hadn’t learned his lesson
Lonavala a dream with a sting
the ghats, the hills, the water-falls
where green hills whisper sweet nothings
and the soul tormented by bird-calls
The soft spirit feels the gentle air
She looked around, searched – yet fail to see
Yet her heart said he was there somewhere
And she thought of him constantly
They lived, she and her brother
in the family farm
The two months spend
there, were just pure charm
He haunted her on the last night
“Suraj, Will I ever see you again”
And through nightmare – she lied
pretending not to feel the pain
She saw herself in a burning house
As she fell. Below Suraj stood
Burning her hair and blouse
She fell down and Suraj moved
A scream in the still of the night
As her brother woke up in fright.
Dawn came the fear was gone
But deep in her mind the shudder remained
They packed and went on
through the slippery mud, it had rained
While returning on the way back
The car accelerated above 120
Brother Raja, fear lacked
And guts are sometimes more than plenty
Raja had always
responsibility shrugged
This was his secret
And no one knew
He was hooked on drugs
The turn was precarious
The rains had fallen the previous night
Life wasn’t very precious
The fog sat in – loss of sight
Khandala Ghats has a narrow road
The car had to Zigzag through
The sign read `GO SLOW’
A wrong turn the car took
The valley was thousand miles below
Sara died. Left not a trace
SM was stunned and nights he cried
The death – Sandy could not face
Next morning he committed suicide
They found him in his suburban home
hung to the fan, pale his body lay
The funeral – SM was left all alone
Pain, anger, sorrow, grief, dismay.
All alone he stood as he thought
All that I once loved is gone
And save tears nothing I’ve got
Oh ! lord, I can’t go on.
SM thought :
She was a beautiful girl
But she was gone
Oh! she was gone
He never really got over her
Could not believe it
Couldn’t blame her
She was gone beyond
She was gone to
a far off land
A face, a sight, a smile
a warm hand
Sara never came
Memories, guilt and
sometimes shame
Things move, Lives change
Nothing remains the same
Sara never came
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
Sara went to heaven
was sent back to earth
before she could count seven
as Peggy, born in Perth
But Sandy it seems was
having problems
entering the paradise doors
John, God’s favorite (and corrupted) angel
was giving Sandy problems, galore !
He was on cloud seven
Just a few steps away from heaven
John said “Sorry Son, Thou shalt enter not
Not even a farthing of a bribe you’ve got”
Sandy said “It’s worse than India
Oh it is, it is, it is.
Sir, Dear sir please Oh! please
I shall pay in rupees”
John said “Hah ! what crap you lend
I swear by my white collar
In heaven, no rupees, no pounds, no marks, no yen
we accept only dollars”
“Go back down
live eighteen years more
Thy death was premature
settle your score
And return back with a wash
and hopefully pure”
Sandy always wanted to go to US
Might as well make a few dollars
Then he would return in this mess
and catch that rascal’s collar
Flew over
Asia, Europe
finally over America
His spirit soared
From that moment on
Sandy was never bored
For twelve years
He lived within a pup’s body
A girl’s best friend
Life was getting a mite gaudy
And fun just couldn’t end
And Sandy enjoyed
walking under her minis
Ideas he could have toyed
Her legs nor fat nor skinny
Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy!
A beautiful girl
while he enjoy the sights
Barking & biting
in the middle of the night
It’s a dog’s life!
It’s a dog’s life.
Just for fun or hate
Piddling on strangers shoes
Life was great.
while people booed
And people in US
found Sandy a hitch
Some resorted to violence
Some to Son-of-a-Bitch.
SOME MORE MUCK UPS
AD 1978
Meanwhile : Suraj Mukhi
Looking for work
Joined a Computer Institute
To learn some Micro-word
strange his quirk
and a horror for life attitude
God ! ( The mess maker)
When he heard that computer
was a GIGO machine
Thought it a Gober-gas processor
To get Garbage out he threw some in
They chucked him out of NIIT
And it stunk for a week
They closed the branch at Borivali
Since everyone was sick
In Datapro he had more fun
Life was getting richer
But they expelled him when they learned
His affair with his teacher
He joined Apples
money was not the problem you see
God bless his parents, poor things
They could afford the fee
But again fate betrayed him
As he wailed as if fire had caught the house
He screamed ; his basic fear of rats
Just when professor was explaining the virtues
of the mouse
Needless to say he was out
And when Mama Mukhi asked him
`Betta, why did you shout’
Betta stout replied in gusto
`I wasn’t scared myself,
it was only concern for Miss Lina Presto’
Infatuations are bad for health
and always, for the Mukhi wealth
Now more than ever determined
to make it as someone big
He called Borland International
Thought it might do the trick
But Borland people knew not his genius
He had several times over, explained
And when his smart ego was hurt
He would act deeply pained
“But Borland is a bunch of fools.
It’s not human,
they should be backed to school”
More logic than emotion
He couldn’t keep his cool
And suffered loose – motions
Vengeance promotes business
He started SMCI
Suraj Mukhi Computer Institute
It was more like CPCI
Cancer Promotion Computer Institute
Sandy Again
Meanwhile: Sandy the puppy
Sandy the puppy died
and because it rhymes
Lets just say
the girl really cried
Sandy was bored
He craved excitement
IBM vs Macintosh war
was just enough enticement
He went into the body
of a Apple Mac SE
And professed the idea
of being Artificial Intelligence you see!
People called him Appy
Owned by a copy writer – Joy Kevin
who was very happy
But, he owed Al Capone big nines
Last summer he was at Las Vegas
a full-blooded compulsive gambler
A fortnight he won, he was on grass
Then luck became a scrambler
After losing the fortune at Vegas
he auctioned the family brass
He couldn’t pay Capone
The only thing left to do
was lend Capone his A*@#
He gave him the Computer :Appy, instead
Capone knew not what to do with it
He wasn’t well written or read
He accepted the junk of shit
Meanwhile : Suraj Mukhi
He was an effective teacher
Love was out, work was in
Not a mere preacher
He lived in constant sin
Dressed in blue, gray or black
booted & suited
Gesticulations, shouts and acts
Psychological problems deep-rooted
SM lusted for Computer programmers
being the typical nitwit
Specially when they were dressed
in mini’s with major slits
Same old story, same old TIT-BITS
They worked hard under him
when they did there nights
They broke invariably
There were never fights
The reason: TIT-BYTES
A joke circulated by Aryan Varma
(One of SMCI’s writers)
SM thought him a mad genius
A mutual admiration society
So much so was obvious.
Aryan Varma had coincidentally
met
the Computer Don
There was never a regret
As long as he could use the free phone
Aryan was a strange guy
He gained more than he lost
And Mama Mukhi offered him lunch
His favorite: Banana with Tomato sauce
Domestic viruses infested SMCI
They were SMs pets
It made the programmer’s fume
and writer’s fret
He wrote a few books
But in 1993 Sagittarians
suffered a streak of crime
SM and Aryan decided
To make money right now was the time
And popularity they both liked
as long as they were in the lime
Life with just teaching
and writing
was a little humdrum
So they decided to venture in
Import of Hard-Wares and Systems
But Indian custom laws
a little too rigid
could even make
Bo Derek frigid
Custom office : SM spoke
“Sir, I want to import computers
I wonder if I could”
“Sorry my friend you can’t
they don’t fall under capital goods”
SM was stubborn
and Aryan was nasty
And their immense pride
“If they don’t allow imports
than we’ll smuggle them inside”.
The criminal tendency
always manifests itself
in the intelligent brain
When life is frustrated and
hell
As the intellectually, Insane!
Are in a constant search of
a challenge
Intelligence craves excitement
only substantiated by crime
And the braver are madder
than the faint most of the time
There’s no greater
excitement than crime
Living on the edge
Is it’s own badge.
Under World scene
AD 1993
SM had underworld connections with
Abu Khan of Saudi Arabia
Smuggling the European Soft-ware
through Turkey to all of Asia
Manufacture of guns & bombs
Trader of illicit women
Had a massive harem in his place
He was only human
SM never touched blood money
So he kept his trade to computers only
His Hong-Kong mole was Mr. Yoko Sony,
the industrialist with a shady past
The profits stored in a Swiss bank A/c B-1K78-90
Life moved on singularly fast
Capone, New York. It was heard
was an assassin by trade
Once shot a president
And his life was made
Further connections in Bangkok,
Peking, Cairo & Tokyo
ICs, motherboards & Hard-disks
landed on the port of Poro
Aryan Varma, now, SM’s right-hand man
with an unlicensed Pk 46
Took care of SMs business at night
- Marve was the next rendezvous fixed
The night of July 3, 1993
Dark the night for Satan’s angel,
raining hard and fast
Soon he would have to leave
after finishing The C program – his last
He’d leave in his mountain ranger
2. 00 a. m. Aryan peeked out
from the window of his office
He intended to make smuggling
a full time occupation
- the excitement hard to miss
Black Ray-ban, just for style,
It didn’t even suit him
dressed in black
His jeep raced from Haji Ali to Mahim
Courage unlacking and ready to attack
A cutlass safe inside under his seat
As the war continued between the accelerator
and his feet
The Check Naka (post) at Mahim
crawling with Khakhi Bombay Cops
Actually Scotland Yard is,
but they think they are the tops
Aryan parked the jeep in a green spot
amidst the shrubs and thistles
Wrapped the cutlass, Smooth operator
Smoother as he whistled
Caught the train,
Thinking, generally planning what to do
Got down at Malad -
stole a fiat (MMU 772),
Jobbie Christo waited baffled
At Marve near Axa
landed the smuggled Apples
came in fresh from Texas
A false smile was exchanged,
a contract made
No word was spoken
nothing said
Except for the code word 486
Jobbie Christo, Old fox and bald,
armed, aiming – dangerous, full of tricks
Aryan – soft at words and recall
Jumped right in time,
Quick at sight and amazing reflex action
the bullet scratched his left shoulder
with a blood thirsty passion
The cutlass was behind,
beneath his shirt
rolled it out before he hit the dirt
doubled in pain
Got up with ata
and the pain in his arm lingered
Aryan, the cruel heart
Axed Christo’s fingers,
“A-A-A-Ahh “, shouted Christo
Aryan jumped in the loaded truck
jumping in painful abuse
“Oh F*! Oh F*! Oh F*!”
The truck flew into
the shrill of the night
The accelerator responded as
Aryan thought, “Serves the B* right. “
Safer the highway and camouflaged,
4. 00 am in the morning
Looked at his watch
Famished, he trying to stop the yawning
Reached the office,
dispatched the goods, all except `Appy’
He kind of liked it
Appy he had heard was Zappy
Whistling to himself,
had saved boss 2 million $,
Really very happy.
Dialed the Don on the phone,
“Boss, the deal’s struck, we even saved our money”
“Well done Tiger, Don’t tell me -
Jobbie must have acted funny”
“Keep the money” said the Boss “It’s fine”,
generous as usual
Sagittarius, fire sign,
Mutable and Jupiter dual
“Thank you, boss !
May lord give more children than you need. “
“Aah ! I’m not married,
Have you forgotten, stupid ?”
“So what’s the big deal”,
Aryan said good humor always in store
They both laughed.
Humor at Quarter to Four.
200 macs had reached,
Appy, he kept in the boss’ room
Ad agencies, DTPS, Printers and all
Appy, he knew not was the boss’ doom
Peace, atlast Aryan went
to attend nature’s call.
SM cared for his employees
High, he always had them priced
He saw the wound on Aryan
Sent him to Mukhi residence
for rest and recovery
Aryan was highly obliged
It was a plush apartment
Large were the rooms
Peace for Aryan a torment
He was used to booms
Stayed their with nothing
there to do
The flat at Napean sea
faced the waters gray
Aryan stayed for days – three
But loneliness he couldn’t keep
at bay
It reminded him of his girl
who now was far away
her name was something else
But Aryan called her Nay.
It was not in his blood to
betray
that cared for him
He would remember it
till his dying day
Enters Sara reborn Peggy
Sara reborn Peggy
born in Australia
to an Indian and an Australian
Came down to India
SMCI had a lot of name
Not just within the subcontinent
But international fame
To computer field it was pertinent
Sara had heard
that SM was an ace at C
So Sara decided to join
SMCI immediately
SMCI was in full swing
More and more students
popularity would bring
SM lost in memory haunts
Life was a shade gaunt
In the past he’d jaunt
18 years had passed and
SM married not
Thrust himself in work
But the sun always surfaces
in sight
Some people wait
for 6000 nights
Same thoughts same game
Things move, Lives change
Nothing remains the same
Sara never came
As if on cue Peggy entered
“Sara !”, He was dazed
Same eyes, same hour glass figure
He felt he had gone half crazed
He mouth opened the cigarette dropped
And his struggle to mumble
Badly flopped
His eyes spun, his stomach rumbled
The AC blast full
The processed cigarette
went around the lungs
processing them for better or
for worse, as Cancer sunk
“Yes “, He persevered
She looked into his eyes
Something snapped
and both simultaneously sighed
The moment froze in the gray SMCI
She asked “Sir, could I join the course”
“Well what’s your name” he found his voice
“Sir, it is Peggy Florce”
“Come to my office -
Class – Try the program I’ll be back”
Behind his desk was the library
Full of books, books he never lacked
Paintings in all, five
State of the art pics
Birds in scenic thrive
Every thing meticulously fixed
God – Guru Nanak,
A sofa cum bed on the side
To nap at day
He never slept at night
She stopped and looked at him
Had she seen him before
And every gaze was countered
once, twice – more & more
“Yes, tell me”,
back to his act
The tactless wonder speech
flowered with tact
Regaining composure
Letting out a smile
They got along
in less than a while
“Sir can I start today and now”
“Definitely, Peg- I mean Peggy”
“Love starts ” thought SM, “one knows not how
I hope my chins not looking shaggy”
Appy was right there in the room
Jealous and waiting to get even
And then the love bloomed
And the war started, who lost – who won.
Appy vs SM & Co.
Peggy was here
She always set on the first row
Seeing her, here time and again
Was a constant blow
SM lost his teaching knack
Mama Mukhi complained
SM said “what the hack”
his feelings disdained
Appy was unhappy
SM lost his judgment
Love does worse sometimes
besides just put you in a predicament
He depended on C programs
Fed some variables and constants
created an object file in compiler
Asked the Computer “How do I win her heart ?
By which stunt ?”
Artificially Intelligent
and temperamentally jealous App
Smoothly and slowly set
the first trap
“Slap her hard on her face
in the class
Anger she’ll feel first
than passion, and love atlast”
“Wow”, disillusioned SM
“Eureka ! Eureka ! Brilliant
What an idea, Tiger (He called Aryan)
- come here man
Look at this machine it’s excellent”
Aryan was out,
calling Capone
Using it as if
was his father’s phone
SM went to class,
prepared for action
And in C++,
he started a new lesson
One eye on the door stuck
She did not come
“Oh hell ! What the f*”
His body became numb
She was absent, a back-ache
she was having her periods
SM stood there feeling like a fake
Feeling like a dud.
During his cigarette break
SM called Aryan in his den
Told him the whole story
“What I do, man. “
“Aryan, look what has happened
I will just arrange the sequence”
Aryan figured, Appy wasn’t a friend
And hence
Said he,
“I will handle it boss,
let me try, I have the experience”
Love
Aryan sent Peggy
Roses, Lillies and other flowers
with a poetry
of dramatic powers
Here’s something that looks just like you
But not all it’s qualities could ever do
Exchange world’s finest pleasure
For a rose, in your house grew
and that’s you, that’s you that’s you
signed Suraj.
It started. She felt it
The feeling was uncanny
An emotional fit
Strange are the ways
of destiny
And next day when there eyes met
The wild fire it set
And what happened next, filled
only Appy’s heart with regret.
Aryan had become
a thorn
Appy’s vengeance
unleashed
As he thought
logically
of the deadly con
Aryan, he would
have to first get
SM he could,
for now, forget.
Appy sent a Fax to Jobbie
`fingerless’ Christo
“Aryan will be in Goa
next Monday
You can have your vengeance
I believe in fairness
I always say
Crime never pays”
signed well wisher?
“Now”, thought Appy
“to lure Aryan to go”
He had come in the way
He was a foe
Left a note on WordPerfect
in Suraj’s secret directory code named SQUEAL
“Go to Goa, Tiger, immediately
there’s a definite good deal”
Aryan left for Goa
SM’s word was the law
And thus executed by Appy
a plan without a flaw
SM and Peggy fixed a secret date
To meet at the Haji Ali sea face
Appy on the other hand was rolling in hate
As they both left separately and raced
Haji Ali is a beautiful place
As SM waited for Peg with a long face
A Taj Mahal within the sea
And the breeze blew,
as if captivity had become free
The Sea gulls were floating
across the seventh Sky
The red of the eve
made SMs heart want to cry
Sentimental he had always been
And emotions multiplied
before the scene
The distant waves
A beauty timeless
And not even time could save
The sea slowing
against the rock hit
And wind blowing
in stops and splits
The trees swaying
towards the land
The sun taking
the final plunge
The spirit soaring
soft and high
His emotion reached
the seventh sky
Out of the Cancer
Promotion Society
The world is a
beautiful place
His spirit flighty
Leaves one in a natural daze
The rocks were black and sandy
The sea was blue
“Oh! Peg where are you”
Just as Peg entered the scene
the heart thumping wildly within
Life is such
Where there are sea gulls
There are crows
Where there should be friends
There are foes
Sea and there are rocks
Life prepares us
for the worst of shocks
Nature is plush
They shared a mango milk shake
And took the race course way
Green green and only green
Trees & lovers, Love & dreams
Green as in a golfer’s dream
White was the wooden gate
Like an English County house
First rate
Looked like an Botanists manual
Silence
As the Gardener’s toil
Patience
He held her hand
Brown was the soil
They went and sat on the wooden stand
Bombay was lost, left far behind
SM picked up a leaf
a yellow one as he was humming
Another violet fell on his head
The distant birdie songs
The grass swayed freely
If there was paradise
Here was paradise
Small fruits (wild berries)
scattered on the grounds
Some old Oak generation left
Leaves, big, small soft and wide
Memories of another day, another time
Love was all around
The sparrows were playing catch
Flowers – Violet, Yellow and Red
Brown mud,
Sway blew the breeze that day
Leisure, Oh Leisure
Purple leaves
Freshly cut grass
SM moved closer
the magic was in the air
He whispered” Peg I love you
Do you care?”
Peg came closer too close for comfort
And SM could not resist
It was love, it was there
A neatly planted perfect kiss
And passion exact 100 degree F.
Time stood still
The earth throbbed
softly in a song
The distant mill stopped
churned out no smoke
A mist spread,
Love was in the air.
War
Meanwhile : In Goa
Sun sat in a different tone
The bloody sky
and dusky twilight – Evil zone
Goa had a lot of coconut trees
With a flashing tone of red
The water was pale green
Goa became one of the rarest beauty
Aryan had seen
Under the tree Aryan stood
Behind him in the
mysterious shadows
Stood
a man in a hood
Aryan was waiting patiently
for the consignment to come
in the boat
The steel blade swished on to
Aryan’s muffled throat
He was hit on the head
Black was everything
The horizon
the world
the future
Hours late
Regained consciousness
Blind folded
As the cloth tore
and light glared in
Jobbie Christo’s evil laugh
a cruel roar
echoed in the dark room
Tied, Aryan struggled
He was doomed
The knife gently sliced
the skin of the throat
As Jobbie gloated
“What is your last wish, boss”
Aryan replied
“I want some Banana
with tomato sauce”
His feet was thick in wet cement
12 hours it took to dry
Aryan father was an escape artist
Same stunt he wanted to try
As Aryan was flown over Panjim
And thrown in the water
from 500 feet.
Shark infested area
His body wasn’t found.
Jobbie called SM that night.
The news shocked SM
Swore on from that day
to give up crime
Crime never pays
The death of Aryan
discolored their romance
SM went to Goa
But the Police
said there was no chance
And thus to no avail
Jobbie never mentioned the
locale
Jobbie would most definitely
go to hell
Problems
Meanwhile:
Back in Bombay
Appy kept Peggy company
The touch was electric
The spirit sunny
And Appy typed poems
in the Autoexec. bat file
only for Peggy
Peg had a sentimental profile
She kissed Appy
time and again
Only making the artificially
intelligent
hope he were a man
His touch was almost
human
“Japanese technology”
Peg thought
But Appy hadn’t lost
love this woman
He still loved her
a lot
Unsuspecting SM returned
called Peg and fixes dinner
for two at Taj
Death is never partial
to winners
The candle light food
did SM a lot of good
Chinese with Enchiladas
What a dinner!
Out of Taj,
when SMs eyes met
with the
Police Commissioner
An old friend,
Anil Sarpotdar
“Hi! SM, How are you ?”
“Oh! Anil Is that really you”
“Sorry, I hear your programmer’s
missing – some Aryan”
“Uh Ah. . , Well He was skilled
Anyway I’m in a hurry,
I’ll catch you later, Anil.
Lousy I feel. “
“SM, before you go
I have a favor to ask
my son is a fan of yours
He learns Computers – tough task”
“We even bought him one
But I wish he would utilize
it for something more than fun”
“Done ! I will send some programs
that your kid can learn”
“Tomorrow
but right now, you know
you must excuse me,
Right now I must go”
So at night SM
sat with Appy
who gave him
minor electrical shocks
Stored PCTools 7. 0
on a 1. 2 M floppy
and also DOS 3. 3
he copied
Appy’s third deadly plan
went to work
Evil tendency now Appy
could not shirk
Appy on his own copied
File SECRET on it
hidden in a locked directory
Poor SM at that stage
no match for Appy’s wits
It contained all SM’s
and Connections.
Swiss Account Numbers
Break-deal points and nexus
The floppy reached the kid’s house
oversmart and curious-lust
Inquisitive as a real mouse
He opened the SECRET first
Dad was pleased
In fact Dad was very very pleased
It certified his obvious doubts
SM was out.
Or should I say in from that day.
Crime never pays.
Mainframed
“OK, Dear friend
No matter in the past how good
you looked
For now “, Anil thought,
“I am onto you
Your goose is cooked”
SM was in someways,
in irony, like Starplus
working 24 hours a day
rarely at home thus
Anil had always
jealous been
Since school when SM
was the favorite of the dean
He wanted to utilize the warrant
he had got
to cause utmost inconvenience
to the Mukhi lot
SM had thrown a party
on release of his new book
KAMASUTRA OF WINDOWS
All dressed up in his best look
All office people
friends and family were there
And Anil found the opportune moment
He really did not care
And just when SM
took the first sip
from his wine
Anil’s little act
got off the line
Never was a more classic example
of Brutus and Caesar play
better performed
Even Shakespeare would have
been dismayed
“Sorry friend”, he started
“Mr. Suraj Mukhi we have a warrant”
This insult he had long charted
SM felt a emotional torrent
COMPUTER MAGNET ARRESTED
headlines in major newspapers
India and elsewhere where NRI’s nested
SM had pulled off his caper
And to top it all
Jobbie Christo was ready to testify
As he connived with Commissioner
A major break through, SM could not rectify
Computer is an electronic device
which can be used well and vice
Quotes from rival corporations
SM lost his social station
Bribes can do anything though
The lock-up gave some facilities
His food was send from home
As long as it fulfilled the necessary formalities
But Peggy had faith in him
She wouldn’t believe
anybody’s whim
Life in the lock
was given on a platter
And the treatment dished out
Could not really flatter
Mosquitoes and heat were giving
him hell
His court date was a week away
and Special orders granted no bail
As a troubled SM eagerly awaited the day
His attorney,
Mr. Rao was one of the best
Bombay and money could buy
He was positive, about the case
It wasn’t even a mere test
Jobbie killed him that eve
All good things have to die
Trouble, trouble and only
trouble
SM loud sigh
He was fallen dead
in his 6th floor apartment
An accident. But SM knew
His intelligence had not dent
SM was biting finger nails
He no longer was cock-sure
His optimism dipped down the scale
It took all his strength to endure
If only he could fight the case
And save him further disgrace
He with his razor sharp brain
could drive the jury insane
All his life he had been lucky
Life had suddenly become unfair
And the guy who was trustworthy
Aryan, wasn’t there
Bangkok
Krung Thep, Thailand.
13. 45 North 100. 31 East
Between South China Sea
and Andaman Sea
Minn Rahz
The dealer of original TIAARC drives
Bangkok is a beautiful city
The roads one-way and wide
The girls were really pretty
AIDS & Illicit relationships
go hand in hand
And Aryan for two weeks
kept safe in this exotic land
At nights the neon light
were shining all around
The streets were full
of the exotic shows in town
The people are friendly
But the water is not
The mouth might drink it well
But the stomach has after thoughts
Temples and temples
And Buddha everywhere
where there is sin and lust
There’s always love, peace and care
Seafood fish and shrimps
& delicious lobster
at a local Sardar’s Dhabha
(An open hotel originated in Punjab, India.
Specially for truck drivers, on the high way)
And Sardar Jaswant Singh was a master
Aryan’s appetite was increasing
faster and faster
Al Madin was a local hotel
Inconspicuous and clean
Not really the best
or classiest Aryan had seen
Minn Rahz was a friendly person
Dealing in electronic equipment
Short and friendly man
Social visits he had long shun
Their deal was easy & done
Aryan bought a hand gun
A Fortnight had passed since
he had moved out of Panjim
He had stirred the cement
All night through, on the brink
He was wearing boots which got
stuck to the dry cement
as he could hardly swim
God knows how the shark-lot
didn’t get him
To find and kill Jobbie,
that was his only dream
But sick he was
It’s was more practical,
He had thought
too lie low
Jobbie was determined,
And Aryan was sick
and slow
That eve, while having dinner
in the hotel, Chicken-buttered
Time had made him leaner
When he saw this Russian girl
His heart fluttered
Romance, he had given up
long, long ago
He loved someone once with his heart
Life’s mysteries no one knows
But now they had drifted apart
Circumstances shape events
which in turn shape personalities
And in Aryan Varma’s life
His heart was his liability
She had blue eyes
Luscious lips and blond hair
Must have melted
Under Aryan’s stare
Smooth operator smiled
“Hi ! Are you the eighth wonder”.
While
her heart beat like thunder
“Do you have a name”
He persevered
“Marietta”, said the dame
her accent clear
“I’m Aryan Varma,
Do you stay in this hotel”
She nodded
“My AC is not working”
he continued and plodded
“Can I spend the night
at yours. I’m hot”
A raised eyebrow, a sardonic smile
It was a perfect shot.
“I am sorry, I’m not easy
Passes I can discard”
“I am not easy either, madam
but right now I’m hard”
Something about Bangkok nights
They bring strangers together
Sometimes opposites attract
And sometimes birds of a feather
Aryan:
“I’m not searching for love
that you must understand
And I’m not the kind who
to live his life has to pretend”
“I don’t love you, though you attract
I am looking for a one night stand. “
She smiled, something about
his light humor, honesty and
brown skin
Made her sweat all over
Every where and within
Suddenly he thought of his
lost love once again
Hardened himself towards
the pain
before he sold her love
down Marietta’s drain
In her room after her shower bath
She was in a towel clad
The AC air was on full blast
She was a little scared
Aryan got up and shut off
the James Bond movie
And closed his eyes once
as he walked away from the TV
He pulled her with his
hand and gaze
He needed it for a long time
It was his craze
Pulled her and kissed
her on the mouth with a force
“Give in to me “
His voice was hoarse
His arms moved around
picked her up
stroked her hair
And slowly to seduction he led
Pulled and gently pushed
her on the bed
And took what little
off, on her body she had
Her body was swell
Tall she was, with
perfect bust
Aryan went on to kiss
her all over first
He started with her neck
Nibbled her ears
excitement tore her apart
Through insecurities and tears
Bit her nose, her tongue
- electric, kissed her eyes
Her breath grew heavy
And louder grew her sighs
Went back to her lips
For a world record of a kiss
Her lips he further nipped
His passion was unleased
He felt her soft and
hard teasing her body-curves
in the hidden corners
Disrobed himself
and went too close
They made love better
Than XXX shows
His tongue rolled
over her breast
Her body was shuddering
Bursting into eternal crests
Her feelings – murdering
The passion was a manifest
His tongue penetrated
her navel
She was floating
straight in heaven
He bit her
and left marks behind
They lost each other
in paradise
Bites dark large and blue
And red all over
burning her like none, no one
had ever done before
And lower still he went
And so did his mouth
Marietta was raptured
and about to shout
Her legs shivered
entrapped around his mouth in between
Her mouth was soft
Her legs were lean
And then he had her
She and her juices
Mad was the night
the union of the fuses
An hour passed
He went inside
Marietta with pleasure
would have died
He penetrated her
with an animal force
And for 45 minutes
they had the intercourse
When he entered
He too sighed
And wild fire started raving
within himself inside
6 times she came
Her feet had gone lame
Throbbing with a pain
God! This guy was insane
“Tiger” she moaned
in a mere toned whisper
Aryan pulled back
in recollection and fear
‘Tiger ‘ brought SM
to his mind
The Commissioner,
he had read in times,
had put him behind
bars for his crime
Aryan lay awake
Thinking and only thinking
His eyes looked straight
Burning and yet not blinking
Marietta was fast asleep.
Aryan got up quick
He kissed a thank you kiss
And his belongings he picked
He was off.
SM’s arrest
was an too
immense shock.
A lone dog in the
distant barked
On the trawler
He thought, he would
embark
On the shores of Phuket
He reached the next day
fisherman’s wharf
Illicit money paid,
to a certain,
disfigured dwarf
He reached Calcutta
Via Bangladesh
He paid twice the fare
One for himself
(and his gun was there)
He reached SMCI next eve
It was unusually locked
And the duplicate key
he had, worked
Inside SM’s office
Appy was parked
Hard to miss
with a evil lark
How could SM such a
blunder make
store SECRET
in the root directory,
too much stake
Appy gave him the shock
of his life
As the screen went berserk
As zaps thrown across the room
Appy threw currents in the air
It didn’t work
Electric sparks flew
Aryan knew not what to do
The only saving grace
was his quick instinct and quicker move
Aryan bent fast in
reflex action
As on the screen
255 ASCII characters ran
Aryan looked in wonder
“Yes I sent you and SM
in the mouth of death
I don’t know how in the world
you have escaped “
said Appy in an inhuman wrath
Aryan had faced animals
Even worse human war-fare
But seeing this happen
Gave the ultimate scare
Electric currents
zapped all over the room
Burning paper and wire
Ready to bring death,
destruction and doom
Aryan jumped and took out his gun
Aryan the cruel heart
Split second he got up, stunned
And blew Appy apart
Needless to say
Appy went to hell
His time was up
And life on earth
wasn’t exactly swell
John, the corrupted angel he met
Appy, “Here I’m sir
my time has come as I return
Pure and well”
John’s Halo turned red
Kicked him hard on the butt
All the way to hell, instead
Jobbie Christo was next on the list
Aryan would love to take care
Dharavi somebody had said
his nights always were spend there
12:50 was the last available train
Dharavi on the other side of Mahim
where poverty and misery ruled, insane
Sanitation looked pretty grim
Dharavi : the spirit of pain
runs deep much too deep
where guts and blood flow plenty
Not even a kid there
looks before he leaps
Darkness is alive
while terror on the job sleeps
Grime and disease
Slippery it had rained
But Jobbie’s death would be
Aryan’s greatest gain
A hooker, Razia dwelled in
the bylane next to the temple
Her body young, not one disease, yet.
But -
Opportunities were ample
Christo was hooked to her
Women and cheap wine
Abuse and sexual violence
Christo the ultimate swine
At 1:45 Aryan reached there
The lanes grim and deserted
A pay-off to a local boy
Concentration undiverted
Passed the fish market
The noise was subdued at night
Searching for his target
As stood one of Jobbie henchmen in the right
The man from Goa
As cold anger Aryan felt
Moved like a Boa
In the darkness of the hell
Aryan’s sharp knife
buttered across the henchmen’s neck
Too fast and noiseless went his life
Aryan was right on track
Passing through the mutton shop
where they sold pig-flesh
Two doors away was Razia’s abode
Amidst the wild, stinking mess
A giggle outside her house
Broke the door – armed and ready
As Christo stood, shivering like a mouse
He couldn’t stand on two feet – unsteady
Aryan ordered Razia out
As she ran to the neighboring slum
Six bullets – no room for doubt
Aryan:
“Yes brother, why look so glum”
The bullets went off in the still
The dead always, like the proverb goes,
stay dumb
The sound was heard all over
Yet when Police came as usual late
No one was ready to account witness
The Police left them to their fate
Next morning he went to Jabhalpur
his friend was a lawyer
Xeroxed his certificate and brought it home
worked on to Ventura, he was on fire
The printer did an excellent job
a false certificate was made
with the help of a scanner
and Lino 300. Eureka – Aryan said
Next eve he met Peggy
Dark circles, and scattered hair
“Don’t lose hope Peg, SM’s
a tough cookie
Besides even I’m there”
“Just take this piece of paper
Don’t worry, don’t even sulk
You don’t know and I do
This paper will change your luck”
The Bombay Blast
The court case came
when it came
The date of hearing
was extended time and again
The original date was
15th March 1993
But the 13 bomb
blasts in the city
had left a permenant dent
in Indian history
Bombay was a city of joy
a city of love
a city of hope
Once dressed in rainbow
Now bound in fetters and
rope
Communal riots hounded it
As death surrounded it
The city cracked
The city bled
The heartless felt pleasure
But the grief each Bombayite shared
had gone beyond measure
Guns rattled on the streets
Women were raped and children killed
Blood and death promiscuous and indiscreet
While across the border the enemy was thrilled
Thousands had died
with the dreams of freedom fighters
As blood was the ink
which flowed on paper of News writers
The police did an excellent job
And within 3 days the city throbbed
As bombs were, everywhere, found
And catastrophe was just around
Many were caught
Connections were sought
The mosque demolition
had left it’s mark
The communal fuel
had got it’s spark
The Court Case
The court case came
As SM was the center
of all blame
But SM stood proud
His feelings in control
Even though his hi-fi
plans seemed to bitten the floor
But SM had different confidence
One which comes from winning
As the judge started
the session with hushed tone
A silence with a meaning
The DA started,
“Here stands a man
under the mask of a holy figure
Under the serene voice and mind
An evil mind triggers”
“This man, this gentle soul
His heredity suggest a noble line
Then how in the world have we to deal
This subtle tendencies of crime”
A grand stand gesture
a suitable act
And the jury went on his side
And SM had to harder try
“Who defends you “, the judge queried.
“I do, your honor”, SM replied.
“But you can’t,
We have to by the law abide
Anyone else with an LLB would do
Though you are not qualified”
SM:
“Jabhalpur University is
recognized by Union states
I have my LLB from there
There can be no debates”
The papers were produced
and in order they were found
The paper, Aryan had
Desk top published
SM knew he was around
He cast his eye to recognize
the bearded Muslim man
a gun hidden under the disguise
An expression of disdain
SM believed in non violence
Hoped he would win
Aryan’s gun can rage even silence
And today he looked pretty mean
SM
“Your honor,
The A\c in Swiss bank
belonged to my employee
Aryan might have been in crime
But what is that with me”
“Where is my name on which
document, this is insane
And I’ll charge the court,
once this is through, with defame”
“Where is your witness Jobbie Christo
And what are his credentials
A man who died in the house of a whore
The allegation is sequential
Proof there is no more”
“I had great respect for the law
But the only thing it breeds is flaw”
“And how can circumstantial
evidence always apply
How and why
I pause for a reply”
The court was stunned
the damage was done
The jury had none to say
Bearded Aryan knew for sure
SM had got away.
He took the plane
next week to Dubai
A false passport SM
helped him buy
SM got away scot free
As Sarah rubbed her tear-filled
eyes with eternal glee
His broken name was sealed
SM got a grand reception
back at office at SMCI
Some laughed, Some where touched
And some simply began cry
And then SM pulled Peggy aside
“Will you be my bride?”
Before she said “Yes”
He interrupted and said
“Think carefully and
Before you agree here this’
“I was a smuggler
That’s a fact,
This, you have to know
I won’t lie, I can’t stoop
so low”
A tinge of pain
she did feel
But love blind
She agreed still
“And one last thing
Before which”, he said
“You can’t marry me,
The condition is that
first, you’ll have to
complete your course in C”
She laughed and he smiled too
The marriage was in December
Her Aussie parents were invited
And Aryan he just remembered
He married Peggy,
Her parents Australian
had no hassles
Broad minded and bohemian.
The only thing left now was,
And it was kinda funny,
That Aryan was officially too dead
to withdraw the Swiss money
Well easy comes, easy goes
Where there are no friends
It’s obvious, there are no foes
All’s well if it has been
that’s how it ends
Saharanpur
The `Haveli’: the household
( The toilet facilities had improved)
filled to the rim
cousins and cousins’ cousins
A nightmarish dream
The whole family tree
the same old family story
Friends, visitors and outsiders
in the usual gold, pomp and glory
Elephants and cows
Camels and horses
Bullocks and ploughs
People came in masses.
The whole village of
Saharanpur came
The Gaonwalas spat out pan
without as much as a hint of shame
The bull had long died
In nostalgia, SM cried
He came on a horse
with a lancet in his hand
The noise from the band
echoed through out the land
And I know this sounds
complicated if not insane
But Shahjahan and Mumtaz
the romantic fools did not complain.
5000 thousand people
dined and wined to ill health
But tremored it not
the Suraj Mukhi wealth.
True love Oh! true love
is so hard to find
Thank God they met
There stars were trined.
The night was beautiful
as they alone one the terrace stood
He looked into her blue eyes
And asked “Can I call you Sara”
She, somehow understood
She looked down,
A smile so nice,
A look so shy
As he took her to the
inner chambers of his mansion
And the inner chambers of his heart
She was wearing a red saree
As he started with her jewels
Her hands were henna-red
And the nocturnal sounds
were never dead
He kissed softly and gently
with a respect a man reserves for his wife
He looked at her and kept looking on
He had waited for her for 18 years
She was a wonder and none spoke
As he held his priced possession
And disrobed her in elegance
This time his kiss had more passion
As they got caught in their love-seance
The wind was soft, the night dry
As their heart beat, and heart beats don’t lie
There body gleamed in the moon light
“I love you “, a mere whispered tone
And just when he was about to make love
Came the thunderous scream
from the telephone
SM awoke from the dream
“What”, he shouted
“Boss, Aryan here.
Congrats. “
“What the hell”
SM shouted
“Is this the time ?”
“Sorry sir,
I forget and I do know
Dubai is 1. 30 hrs slow’;
“Oh ! What the hell
Go jump in the well”
“I would sir,
But do you mean an oil well”
“AAh”, cursed SM
“That bloody Graham Bell”
He gave away
a shriek of impatience
Mumtaz Mahal shuddered in
her luxurious grave
From the wrath of SM’s voice
even death couldn’t save
Shahjahan was out seeing his
interior decorater, some goof.
To make Taj Mahal- and only
then he would rest – Sound proof.
Anyway SM got down to
this poetry of making love
And got into grip of things
A knock on the door
Mamma had brought him milk
And even he could be polite
you know
So with of God
Voice of silk and
smile of gold
He asked her to go
And then came the final knock
DHL Couriers had come
with a dead man’s will
He threw it on the side
And made love to Peg
all through the night
The will went on as follows :
(It was read after a week)
In event of my death
or unaccounted disappearance
for more than a month
I would live my Swiss account
B-1K78-90
to be transferred to Suraj Mukhi
Signed.
Aryan Varma.
