Cave Dweller

Just another stupidity from a stupid

The Shades of Blue

This is not the first time you’re at crossroads. As a matter of fact, you’ve always been there. Although the streets were different, the sky was always blue. The shoes you put yourself in were always different, but the size was always way too big. You walked many a different street; treading on the path of misery and dreaming to see the greener grass on the other side.

Your hymns of cries were unheard. Your songs of melancholy didn’t strike any chord. Your psalms of pain fell on deaf ears. Ignoring the words of everyone’s wisdom, you kept walking anyway. Sometimes, you took the right street, but most of the time you didn’t. You saw milestones as pit stops and stopped there way too long, feeding your ego with unhealthy foods; biting off more than you can chew.

Now, you want the road to end, but you know they won’t. So you have no choice to make, other than choosing the one that’s less unpleasant.

But there has to be a pleasant way. In fact, there are way too many ways. Amid the blue skies, the sun does shine. In the middle of infinite darkness, the stars do twinkle. Cast away the shoes that are way too big. The end has always been the same, yours won’t be any different. Pave your own path. Walk along. Sing out loud. For you’re neither the blues of your life nor the blues of your skies, you’re the silver lining between them.


A Crow’s Journey to Heaven

He was old.

Too old to fend for himself.

He slept in the nest that a stranger built for him months back.

He gave her the only worm

That he had managed to catch by outstretching his neck.

He couldn’t have enough food since then.

His wings were heavy and eyes too droopy.

He ate whatever was thrown into his nest.

He could seldom see anything with his eyes open.

But he could see a lot more with them shut.

He spent his days, which he hoped were his last, praying.

As days neared, he started searching for God;

In the worms that he ate,

In the nest that he slept,

And in the tree that was his planet.

But God came flying from the sky,

In the form of a famished Eagle.

He bowed his head and folded his wings.

Your Work Life

From the day you joined

To the day of your death

You shall live in a cocoon.


From the time the sun rises

To the time it rises again

You shall work under pressure.


From the start of the month

To the beginning of another

Your pockets shall remain light.



passion, Your

fears, Your

dreams, Your

money, Your

happiness, and


You’re the silent and it’s the true owner.

Life After Life

While on our way to heaven,

There’d be a fork stuck in the road.

Amid a famiy of trees,

I’d build a home for you and me.


Red roofs. Brown doors. Maroon grilled windows.

A pathway in the middle of green, green grasses.

Compound walls as high as our waists.

Swing and slides for our two little kids.


In the evening, we’d watch the blue, blue skies.

Stars, planets and cloud number nine.

Gentle breeze will come and kiss our cheeks.

The aroma of mud. And the sweet taste of wine.


Red roofs. Brown doors. Maroon grilled windows.

A pathway in the middle of green, green grasses.

Compound walls as high as our waists.

Swing and slides for our two little kids.


Square One

His world confined him to his cubicle.
He had bills to pay.
And boss to please.

“Enough is enough!”
He barked at his boss one fine day.
And took off like a monkey from a box.
He breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“I am free!” He thought.
Alas, he was in another cubicle.

None of the candidates will make a difference. So why the hell should you vote?

Agreed. We have no good choice to make. The candidate from Party A might be as useless as the candidates from Party B and C. None of them will give a shit about you or your country. All of them will become Mr. India irrespective whether you choose them or not. Today, they might be a proud owner of Alto, your vote might buy them Tavera tomorrow.

And you? You’ll continue to travel in crowded buses and stinking trains. Farmers will continue to die. Petrol prices might go up to Rs. 160. Your life might be as miserable or worse than today. So why not just sit at home and enjoy the holiday? Why the hell should you go out to vote?

To make a difference. That’s right, to make a positive change to the place you live. Voting for useless candidates might not, but clicking on NOTA will make all the difference. 20% of Mumbaikars have gone out to vote. The rest have given up on our country. If you’re one of those 80%, wear your sandals, go to your polling booth and vote for NOTA. Let’s send out a strong message to these selfish political parties. If they won’t choose a right candidate to represent us, neither we will.


He saw her.
She saw him too.
Both the hearts skipped a beat.
Had they done the right thing 10 years back,
Love and cheating wouldn’t have been landed
On the same side of the same coin.