Prose, Passion and Ponderings.

His Smile is the Rising Sun,  A Perfect Gold-Pink Dawn- A Beacon that I can't Outrun,  A Wonder that Serves to Stun,  A Magic Aesthetically Spun.  His Smile is the Blinding Sight; A Gleam that Sparks in Night,  It Feels Absolutely Perfect- It Feels Amazingly Right,  A Mixture of both Pain and Delight.  His Smile is the Hope Long Lost,  A Pleasure Beautifully Embossed; Warmer than Fire Colder than Frost.  His Smile the Alluring Sight,  It makes Me Forget the World Outright.  His Smile, Stole my Heart in Cold Bleak Night.  A Smile, that Boast, to own My Heart, in Bright Day Light.

Foggy winter, depart to rest; Windy spring arrives with zest.  Flowering trees and blossoming climber, Florisugent moving from flower to flower. Beautiful birds with colorful wings,  Busy bee in circular spin. The warmth of summer time, The drizzling gold sunlight. It's the month of may, The musings of cuckoo in array; The mango tree blossoms in full sway. The savoring smell of Mangifera indica, The sultry summer's bonanza: The dasheri, sinduri, langda and malda. God's gift in different manifestation, All so sweet and luscious. A delightful mellow from heaven; The squashy harlequin skin, The gold toned fruit with emerald and ruby hues. With the rain drenched june, The euphony of nature attune. Silver droplets on the scrumptious fruit. A delight absolute!

She is a woman of ocean deep mind, Build of intellect, etiquettes and everything nice. A crystal chalice heart in a golden rib cage. The energetic caffeinated vibes she brings,  Rise silent and steady like the sunlight. The matron who withstand and outlasts the stormy time tides. A distinct variety, A damsel of a peculiar captivating kind. A majestic quester looking for shades of grey in a black and white world. The recusant dame, Ready to take the less travelled road. The road that diverges into two paves, She walks in beauty, But runs with savviness. Within her lies a mysterious utopian world. A querida mollycoddling the bookish reverie. The luminary lady of truth casting the gleaming ideas like the moonlight gleams. Everyday she rises like the sun,  Soothes like the moon,  Shines like the star. She is the fierce fire,  The soft pleasant flower,  The cool azure sky. The galaxies reside in her dark black eyes. The Bonnie lass who dares to dream and ...

On the Saccharine Summer Evening,  The Pleasant Puff of Wind, brought with it- The Teenage Bonbon Dream; The Rubescent Cheeks,  The Fruity Felicity of Tender Tweaks,  The Tranquilizing Tincture of his Eyes,  The Picturesque Stir of Memory extemporize. Citrus Clinch and the Satiating Strawberry Sin,  Amidst the Lush Green Fields- Where the Cuckoo Sings,  I Tasted Ambrosia on his Lips. The Love so Spirituous!  Basking in Blueberry Bliss. The Nectrous Nestle of his embrace,  Upon my Body his Silver Trace.  The Melody of his Euphonious Verse,  Our Scintillating Squeal Resonate.  He sat with me till Tangerine Twilight,  And I saw Perpetuity in his Piquant Presence. Alas! The Berry Blossom doesn't last!  The leaves Green turns into Gilt,  Withered with Wind it Depart. The Amber Autumn Advance; The Summer Sweetheart Departs. Till the Dazzling Dawn,  I yearn yellow summer love.

His gaze tracing the edges of fans and plaster of Paris on the ceiling. 3 A.M. and the tears flowing drop by drop into his own arms. His body’s numb to any real feeling, As he hears his mind’s worries revealing; his heart wants to wail, and he wants to beat his chest or bang his head or pluck that aching organ out or puke the vermilion out. He sees himself fallen from the glory. Like the Medieval monuments he is deteriorating… His beloved abandoning him like the Mughals abandoned their beloved Sikri. He is as lonely as he has ever been. Words drying up and the mouth turning into prison bars.. Lips sealing into a suckling reminder of being a man who loves. He hate lying here and crying silently when all he want is to howl and wail into the darkness, Maybe it would cleanse off the purge. But he is afraid, He is weak, As his eyes weep along with his soul, he is constantly wondering of puffy eyes and swollen face and the questions he might face in the morning. 3 A.M. he doesn...

The daughters of Eve: The Occidental femme' The Oriental Dame,  You, the unsung saviour of the human race,  You, the shining grace!  You complete and complement, the sons of Zeus. The heiress of Caucasoid, Mongoloid, Negroid lore and heritage. The weight of devoir and culture hangs firm on your head. You walk on the circumscribe lane of the Asain terrain, You fly at the end of an African tapered lane, You soar into the European champ de course. You spread your wings to the Great American Dream. Today the whole world sings the hymn of your appreciation- When they're ought to celebrate all your seasons. The history owes you,  The world owes you,  The heaven owes you,  On your backs, lies the legacy of mankind.  You've to fight for your comrade,  You've to bring justice to the dead,  For you're the descendent of Eve, who is blamed, not appreciated. You're the descendent of witches, whom the society punished, for being bold. You've to...

This is the tale of a realm where the Paterfamilias rule. All reside under their strong fist. Their herculean shoulder bears the heavy weight. Their masculine intelligentsia govern the wind and bluster the politics. The Patriarchs knows all. Their palatial edifice is erected upon the biased base. Since the ancient times with their exertion,  They've maintained the custom. Their walls speak of inequality. The windows open to the desert of oppression. Their threshold is chained. The sudor pouring off their rugged forehead bespoke of their labour. They control all. They're the lord They're the master. Just them and only them, None is worth ruling except for them. There are other inhabitants of this land too. The 'other'  The 'inferior' The 'subjugated' The misogynistic scriptures tell these others to embrace their transgressions. The foul manipulation of the Patriarchs misled the other to their own perdition. The parti pris dogma tells them,...