Seven Years

Stab your lasagne with a fork,

Topple your drink and then he might look.

Not for more than a few seconds though,

His gaze you seem unable to hook.

Notice how close she sits to him,

See them whisper in each others’ ears.

Wonder if he remembers anything at all,

Or if he’s just suffering from Alzheimer.

It is his third steady relationship,

Yet the fool manages to goof up.

She’s no less of an idiot too,

Making him drink from the same coffee cup.

Saying he has a soft corner for you,

He goes ahead and breaks your heart.

He later explains how she’s just Emily,

And how Ross and Rachel can never be apart.

So there rise your hopes again,

Fail to be mad at him any longer.

Get back to doing what you’re best at,

Wait for another Seven Years.

One Billion Peas In A Pod

We speak different languages,
We pray to different Gods.
Thank God for Cricket and Bollywood,
It's like we're one billion peas in a pod.

We're rich and we're poor,
We're fast and we're slow.
Still all recovering from a wound,
Inflicted on us years ago.

We're not truly 'Independent' yet,
Or so some supercilious say.
Might not be all too happy,
But the Sun's shining and we're making hay.

A gradual but successful mélange of cultures,
We have Salman 'Khan' celebrating 'Ganpati'.
If only Danny Boyle could open his eyes and see,
We have more to us than just Poverty.

No denying we've bombed masjids and also mandirs,
We insist that it is 'Mumbai' and not 'Bombay'.
We beg to differ from each other sometimes,
But it's just irony at the end of the day.

At the end of the day we're all frustrated,
Making mistakes, punished by a whack from the Rod.
But thank God for Cricket and Bollywood,
Because then we're like one billion peas in a pod.