To Yashu...

Well this one has been delayed a lot, and I am sorry for such a long delay. But the reason why this has been delayed will be evident when you read the poem itself. The poem lacks any particular form or rhyming scheme.. will look erratic and nonrhythmic at times... But isn't that just like our Yashu... totally spontaneous [:d]

My cute - cute friend Yashu,

can I write anything cuter than you?

Seriously, I wanted to write,

something cuter than your cuteness's might.

It took me days,

and I tried many different ways.

But, nothing turned out to be cool,

in-fact many left me looking like a fool.

It is than that I realized,

nothing cuter can ever be contrived.

For Yashu is a rare Indian blonde,

with a heart of gold.

Her stupidity knows no bounds,

and calling her dumb is my pass-time.

But somewhere I understand,

she is smarter as Einstein.

OK, that was an overstatement,

but who cares,

It is for a friend, I am writing,

and right now only her smile matters.

A multi-talented dumb gal,

that's our Yashu, unfurled.

She is an expert Photographer,

a creative blogger,

an exceptional designer,

and also a fluent German speaker. :(

Apart from this,

she can also paint,

trust me in all these activities,

she is an ace.

She sounds like an eight year old,

her activities prove she is a kiddo,

But, I guess that's what makes her special,

A cute kid, who is adorable.

Oh, and it may sound shocking,

but this lovable kid is also reliable,

you may share your secrets,

no-one, but Isha gets to know them in instant.

I am glad to be her friend,

even if its just a net-friend.

We both listen, laugh, suggest, share and complain,

and no-matter where we are from, the friendship remains.

But, she says a friend,

and that's great,

for now I can scream and,

laugh at her without end.

I respect her, for her persevrance,

with that she made possible,

what we claimed impossible.

She is a true example,

of an old saying - " Love conquers all"

and with her stupid stubbornness,

she proved us wrong,

she gave me the reason to believe,

that there's light below the fall.

Thank You Yashu, for being,

a friend, a mentor, and,

someone to show me the true power of love.

You just prove,

love is not stupid,

it is not just a fable,

it exists,

and if u love someone,

giving up is not a thing;

surely not a thing to do.

And for that,

Thanks a ton, My dear Yashu.

Ode to Isha

 I wrote this one long time back... and almost forgot it, dunno why it dint get posted here... maybe i forgot to post it. Found this one while checking the testimonials i have written on orkut... and so now posting it here.

I want to write,
Something cute, for a friend so bright.
I wonder if these words will shine,
Enough to compliment her and be in line.

Isha the girl I met with luck,
An intelligent, smart, humorous and adorable creature among all IC muck.
Battle was on to be on her friends list,
And guys allover banged the doors with clenched fist.

Nothing could buzz this sweetheart,
As I entered and was about to start.
After a long and witty discussion,
I finally got admission.

We became friends so quickly,
And I got to know about her love for RKV.
Later still I got to know she is an astrologer,
And trust me she can read future.

She can paint, dance and sing as well,
In short a multi talented person in all.
As a friend, she is sweet and nice,
Her intelligence fuels any discussions dumb or wise.

I am glad to have her as a friend,
And wish that same remains unchanged.
Smart girls are rare to be found,
I found her and seek to keep her bound.

Demon of Doom!!!

Hell's above and heaven below,
I have alleviated above the flow,
I have crossed the level of humanity,
at apotheosis, i chose devilry.

Now, I am a demon,
with hatred,
My heart eats love and,
shits nothing sacred.
I rule with pride,
and ride in dark.
Blood is my potion,
and I don't care for retards.
Rules of heaven can't govern me,
as I crave for Hell, you see?

I hate this world and,
all that it offers.
I hate the humans,
and the way each differs.
I cannot follow the God,
for he is cruel,
In comparison, Lucifer seems,
too philanthropically dumb.
The reign of light didn't bring,
any peace.
time for dark demons to rise,
and end all life and things nice.

Here, I rise above you all,
here, I announce myself as the destruction lord,
here, I ask my minions to end,
here I will terminate your lands.

It is time for you goons to die,
it is time for daemons to say hi.

This tattered earth shall be destroyed,
I don't care for sins or innocence,
The time is gone,
to mend your relations,
the time is gone to,
fuck around rations.

Time to worry has passed,
Time to cheat has gone,
Time to kill is over,
Time to mend it all and love has famished.

For, its time to die.

Beware, for I shall come,
soon enough I will reign,
and unmercifully i shall kill,
acids will pour as rains,
blood will flow in streams,
and flesh will rot in open.

I the lord of destruction,
I the daemon of death,
I the one to bring an end,
I am already born,
and to rise,
I just need a human fiend.

No title... Please suggest one!!!

I wanna end these sufferings,
the pain of all this world offered,
the pain of all I lost,
and the gashes of its memory.

I wish to live,
but away from this world,
away from all these people,
away from all the creepers.

My heart sings when I am alone,
and emotions tap on its rythmic tones,

This world was never mine,
I feel no attachment to,
any thing or time.

I love no human,
I feel no emotion,
Animals attract me,
and they charm me.
I guess, jungles the place for me,
as Tarzan, I shall live,
But these pesky, creepy humans will,
follow me their as well,
and I shall be dragged back,
to this haunting hell.

I do not understand my purpose,
in this world.
I wonder if I will die,
as an ignorant cattle following the herd.

Love to see you cry!!! (A lame try at song writing)

O.K. This may seem as highly plagiarized from Enrique's version, but guys its not. Its totally different and is written in totally different context.... So please read and comment!!!

Just because I love the rains,
I love to see you cry.
Oh, yes I said it,
and I mean it.
I love to see you cry.

The day shall come,
when you will burn,
The day you understand,
the day you comprehend.

the day you regret,
the day love for you ends.

My intentions are true,
you are out of life's hue.
I don't feel any pain,
i don't feel any wound,
at least not today.

But, I would love to see you hurt,
  I would love to see you in pain,
I would love to see your tears,
I would love to see you cry.

The way I loved you,
Someone, you will love too.
the way you hurt me,
Someone will hurt you too.
The way you lied,
Someone, will lie to you,
The way you ignored,
someone, will ignore you too.
The way you dumped,
someone will dump you too.

Enjoy your time till that day comes,
enjoy your life until that happens.
laugh at me,
but you will cry,
the day will come,
and yes,
then I would love to see you cry.

For you are no one to me,
at least today,
you mean nothing to me,
I don't feel a thing,
nothing is happening,
But still, I want you to cry,
for i would love to see you cry.
and the day shall come,
it will come...

Oh, yes The day I will laugh,

and the day you shall cry,
For I would love to see you cry.....

My Style!

It's festive season,
and I bumped in an old, forgotten friend;
or rather, he found me,
while shopping on a road-side stand.

I flipped around,
to find a familiar smiling face,
the name to which, I still
can't recall.

He was dressed so properly,
and I wore a meager Bermudas,
with a stupid Tee.
He shot it a glace,
and shook my hand.

As the initial rounds
of wishing and inquiring died,
he asked me about my fends;
a problem, about which I am still uncertain.

And as if, that wasn't

embarrassing enough,
he went to put forth,
this mighty riddle:-

"I heard you are a poet,
so temme, my friend Varun,
what kind of poetry, you produce,
and what is the style that you use?"

The question was simple,
yet, to me sounded as a riddle.
I am neither an expert,
nor a professional,

I write for me,
and personal reasons.
I don't know the harsh,
tones of rhyme,
nor I understand the
boring concepts of mater.

I didn't study the
art of creation,
I never learned to ornate,
any words, phrase or syllable.

I know no formal rules,
nor formats.
I know no trends,
nor patterns.

I was neither raised an artist,
nor formally educated,
and I follow no set parameters

or rules.

Then, it hit me like
a bolt from the blue.

Yes, I don't follow any rules,
and I am not bound to any other issues.

I write what I want,
I write what I feel,
and I express my emotions,
that's my only zeal.

I give no damn to any
obligations,
my pen and paper are my wings,
my token to freedom.

A smile played on my lips,
as I parted them,
with personal pride and glory,
saying, "'Free Style' is what I pen."

Poem to sweetest Simmi...

One day, I met this gal,

on IC forums, she was new;

proud, selfish and idiotic,

as i perceived and knew.

Thanks to Gaurav (The moron),

we had a fight,

and were blood thirsty uncompromising rivals,

ever since that night.

We fought, we bickered and,

we tried to ignore each other,

and yet we both,

belonged to the same friend - circle.

Our mutual friends tried...

explained...

and reasoned...

but; all their pleas landed on,

ego deafened ears.

We were arch rivals,

loved to hate each other,

and enjoyed our intellectual,

brawls and sneer.

If she ever mentioned,  "Its a hot day with sun like spears",

I naturally and instinctively saw, "cool night with the soothing stars".

Somehow one day, one fine day,

we both chatted,

for once, we didn't comment,

or contemplated.

It was the day,

we got to know each-other,

and realized that our initial impressions

were, but merely biased and unreal.

Since then, we became friends,

much better and much closer,

than we ever thought to be,

or imagined.

Now, in her I have a buddy,

with whom its easy to laugh, share and study.

We share our happiness,

and we divide our sorrows.

With each other we can confess,

and admit our crimes and treasons,

and need not worry about explaining,

or giving any reasons.

She is caring,

and at times seems like a nanny,

mature and confident,

lecturing and explaining every now and then,

screaming and yelling, at other occasions.

But, most of the times,

she is a naughty kid,

seeking attention; and if not granted,

she knows enough pranks to snatch it.

For me, I thank the day,

we reasoned,

and tried to be friends;

for since then I have

a friend, I can trust and share,

all that is a burden.

It's great to have you,

as a friend Simmi;

but, sometimes I also miss the gal,

I loved to hate so much, in our ignorant jiffy.

Lolzzzzz.....