Category Archives: Humour


A time for wooing voters
Selling dreams
Floating manifestos
A season of paying whirlwind visits
To the farthest corner of constituency
Time for defacing walls with posters,
Polluting public mind with party propaganda
For buying ballots with petty gifts:
Blankets, wine bottles, currency notes
A carnival for double voting, shanghaiing,
Murdering rival candidates-
A platform for indulging into polemics, mudslinging.
Demagogue’s favourite festival

My “Perfect Poet” Award!

To be a perfect poet, he has to be a half mad.
Then he will be so noticed, so his poems read.
I am not perfect poet as I am not a half mad
So I am not noticed and so my poems not read.

God is so good and He will accept my request
He will swap my half sanity for half madness
Now I will be perfect poet and my poems read
For public will recognize me as man half mad.

One more favor, God; certify and send me award
Readers are such as may reject the oral word.
I shall send notarized copy of certification
As proof of my half madness in poetification.

Thanks God! To day I received the certificate
Via FedEx, and your award me as “Perfect Poet”


Once upon a time
I landed in city beautiful, Chandigarh
Impelled to be a Computer Engineer
With a stay of four rigorous years
The city hailed this new Delhiite
Taking my time to adjust
Amidst the lush green surroundings
And one day saw myself
In mirror of course
I had changed
Long hair locks on my head
Curling and falling down
Knew it was time to clean up
And dress like a smarty boy
Hair had grown and me
So new was my body to city
That I peering for a barber
“There’s so ‘n’ so across the streets”
Said one of the gentlemen I asked
So boy, why don’t you catch up someone there
Didn’t want to burn my pocket
Making a hole in it
Still a student
Can’t afford lavish cuttings
So tell me something cheap ‘n’ best
Reasonable for my pockets
“Oh, then you go to UMT”, said him
“What the hellz UMT, man”, said me
He left in a hurry
And my mind bowled over by his googly
My legs proceeded here ‘n’ there
Until I came across a comic sight
A professional chopping hair fragments
Under the skinny shadow of a tree
At first, I look him and then to the caress tree
Then sometimes the tree and him
Eyes rolling up and down
Oh I see now, he’s the one
“Under Mango Tree”, the UMT hunting finally ends
It’s not all that bad
With throngs waiting for their turns
A mirthful experience, it was surely!

Love sweet love

Love sweet love I found one day
But then I lost it all next day
Moments of pleasure, moments of joy
O’er the night they fade away

Love sweet love I thought it would be
And make the world go round for me
But when I awake and look above
The blades of the fan go round and round

Love sweet love give me ecstasy
Bring light to my life and all darkness foresee
But when I awoke the light was gone
Damn the love, power supply was lost

Love sweet love where do you be
In life bring flavour like sweet sweet honey
But when I awoke and breakfast sought
Only dry bread with chai I got

Love sweet love, will you come to me?
I will make do with the little you spare me
When the morning bell rings, you I hope to find
But instead the milkman find

As the sun goes down I wait arms open wide
I close my eyes to feel the moment divine
Your wet kisses in them I drown
I open my eyes only my great dane to find

Salman Khan saved the day

While going to office
Notice the door of the
Electrical pillar box
Wide open
Posing danger
To the people passing by

While returning from office
Happy to note
That a
Salman Khan poster
Of the movie
No Entry
Pasted on the pillar box doors
Saved the day

Let us be Voyeur

The day begun in a rush with a little less care
I try to keep up with time, not much I can spare

I rush thru the day waiting for a prime spot
I fail to stop me when I plan a nasty nice plot

Let me walk thru this day with no hope, no pain
Let me just watch dames as they pass in the bus lane

Let me walk on the grass so I can save some time
Let me run and catch glimpse of some beauty prime

Come with me now, come I will show where
Give me some of your time, let us be voyeur

Let’s walk together lets see beauties wet in the rain
Let’s just have a good time and keep worry far again

Come drink in of beauty and have your eyes fill
We may not see them tomorrow even if we will

Let the beauty grow like sack overflow
Let’s get high on passion and each other know

Let’s watch thru’ this window tho not alone
Come hold my hand come let us see and go.

I laughed last night

I laughed last night as I went to gambling den
All laughed last night for all those won
I laughed last night, wasted tears
For rupees which are gone afar forever

Rupees on the horizon brighten the day
Am I a part of the night or day
The coins flow freely banks outpour
The account is over a new day I behold

I look behind on all that has been
Both moments of heads and tails I see
Coins that were, coins now gone
Notes fade, their impressions dawn

Why run behind the rupees stream
I stand by instead and behold its beauty
Sadness threatens as dollars unfolds
But the bright sun gathers me in its hold

What do I feel? Won? Lost?
Beautiful moments? All boast.
Days go by, there is no change
O dark notes see how you wane

Money so beautiful money so true
Money I give no more to you
I laughed last night as I went to den
All laughed last night for all those won

This poem is a parody of the poem ‘I cried last night’


A poem

The poet
A man of few words

God must be busy

Day in and day out… so many requests
Without any thought, irrespective of the mindsets
To help one through getting the food taste right,
To clear the traffic jam out of your sight.
To drop your child on time at school.
To maintain your partners temper and keep him/her cool
To eradicate all the diversions on your way to work
To help you reach bang on time in accordance to the clock
To ensure all the files are kept at the right place
To help your boss to trace.
To make the auto/taxi guy charge exactly fifteen rupees
To hope the neighbour doesn’t question you when you are at peace
With so many request and so many wishes to be granted
The thought and prayers that keep you haunted
Rama, Jesus, Allah or the Sun
You seriously are the busiest one…

Autobiography of a Shoe

My name is Lotus Bawa,
And was bought from the island of Java.
My owner is on a sail,
Merry drinking wine and ale.
And when he is back,
I am removed from the rack.
Rapped in immense dust,
Master looks at me with disgust.
Gone are the days when one foot-tap,
Would send the sandals in a trap.
My sporty cousin,
Is in a good state.
He loves running,
Resting he does hate.
Even though purchased late,
For the Master he had to never wait.
My cousin from the States,
Has a different fate.
He is cleaned round the clock,
Since he is a ‘Reebok’.

There is an amusing story,
Behind my brother Reebok.
Trekking-love once forced my owner,
To once climb a massive rock.
He climbed the target,
But only with a lonely sock.
Blisters spoilt the party,
Dear! He could barely walk.
The very next day,
Came a sailing knock.
It was then that he purchased him,
When reporting at the U.S Dock.

But I have seen a better time,
In my glowing prime.
Sporting that rich glossy shine,
The ladies were all mine.
I remember it was ‘Nike’ first,
As they say : Sick of Love-Thirst!
She had asked me to JUST DO IT.
But I was cautious,
And asked her to first prove it.
Eager to tie the knot,
She married my stout friend ‘Bata’.
I gave away my love, said ‘OK TATA’.

Next was the glorious La-Bella,
Who reminded me of Dicken’s Estella.
Charming, gorgeous, flamboyant and tall,
Name it, she had it all!
Together a few days we did spend,
But I must tell you the end.
Out of me she made an ass,
When she laced-up with ‘Addidas’.
But the rest was still due,
And it happens with very few.
As in maturity I grew,
I found the love that was true.
Florina was her name,
And we both felt the same!
Oh! I loved her so.
How much? You will never know.
But this affair was to dramatically end,
Which is still tough to apprehend.

A rousy gangster named ‘Force-10’,
Held my darling tight.
Stripped her off silken laces bright,
And gave her a derogatory Shoe-Bite!
Before being torn to shreds,
Florina put up a good fight.

Agony was apparent in her open mouth,
As she was in fright.
I cannot remember if I cried,
When I lay by her side,
Something touched my SOLE inside,
The day Florina died.

A part of history now,
Are all my Love-tales.
The only life-inducing tonics,
Are some strongly hammered nails.
A new branded sole helps,
If old one fails.

As do noble cobblers say,
A little bit of Shoe – Polish,
Keeps us happy and gay.
Tapping around the female footwear,
Makes our day.
Beware Hawaii Chappals and Floaters!
We are here to stay!