Pennies for your wishes’

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Pennies in a fountain,

Shining and enticing,

With wishes,

Breathed and blown on them,

Yet, my hand wanted to touch some of those,

And actually pull em out of their vain,

A handful worth a cup of free latte,

Was my minds aim,

Yet, the heart,

Made an abrupt halt,

As each carried an unfulfilled wish,

A broken dream,

A  silent rendezvous,

A parting,

A forlorn kiss,

A prayer un answered,

All wished on a bronzed round of metal,

Maybe a gold and silver too,

Let, the latte, be on my account,

As, I took out my hand,

From the cold fountain,


I myself, had my pennies inside,

Answers pending,

Pennies, in a fountain.

People start wishing on quarters,

maybe, levels raised,

Chances higher,

Futures brighter,

Just friendly thoughts.

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Conspiracy or ??????????


Simply, because I don’t trust no one, does not let disbelief baffle me,

That people are up to something,

Yes, that’s the issue,

Even if there is no plotting,

My mind never,

Gives me that hidden power of the so called, “sixth sense,”

The revealing dream just, before the outburst,

That North Star, pointing towards the backstabbers,

It’s cause, maybe,

In my minds eye’, all are innocent,

Pure hearts,

Thorough souls,

And true friends,

Taking you by and on your word,

Yet, conspiracy is evident at all levels,

The higher your stature,

The deeper the plot,

Yet, I strongly believe,

Sometimes, the graves dug for others,

Have the length and breadth of your own fall,

Still I follow,

With pure thoughts,

That I, will always have people,

Who will work with, for me and watch my back.

Yet, never forget, the danger lurking,

As all conspiracy, ultimately does create havoc,

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Love bitten


After each disaster, a little more dying,

After each desire savored, a little more yearning,

After every fleeting moment, a little more flying,

After each memory made, a little more dreaming,

After every action, a little more contemplating,

After every gain, a little much conquering,

After every down fall, a little bit of standing,

After every darkness, a little bit of sky staring,

After every touch, a little bit of throbbing,

After every drop of water, a little more thirsting,

After every applaud, a little bit achieving,

After every, walk a little bit transiting,

After every smile, a little bit of laughing,

After every deception, a little bit of tempering,

After every jolt, a little bit of shaking,

Yet, after every impetuous word, a little bit of unseen crying,

With too many little bits,

To simply,

Live, a little bit,

Will fretting and lamenting,

Turn into my only, sole wit,

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Mani, the friend for life.


i”In the cookie of life, friendship is chocolate chips”, Salman Rushdie.

One of my blog friends, inspired me to write, about this great bond, friendship, so I pondered, who could I think of?, and instantly, the name of this particular friend, popped up.

Mani my friend, my brother, the fruits of platonic bond, are sweeter when sown by choice, yet nevertheless, the logic, that true friendship has to be embedded in roots in one’s, careless childhood, blamed high school or even restless youth, is to each to his own thinking.

Reasons, seasons and lifelines, do not matter, as in this journey of life, you meet that special person, who is always there watching over you, silently yet surely, trying to turn your limitations, into curveable boundaries, where your ins’ and outs, should tumult, into snuggled zones.That’s, the power and mantra of this bond. Time and experiences, boundaries and distances, lovers…

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Stare is a glare👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁


Staring, at people, is just a way of telling them, see what I have and you don’t. So next time any one stares at you, or your loved one does stare at anyone, chill, they are your direct representatives of their instant admiration for you and your die hard admirers.

So stare is just a glare, nothing else, with these thoughts, case closed, now I can rest, oh! the immense appropriate in appropriate bounties of my loved ones’ never ending bounties.👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 whereas the one stared, think twice of the person standing next to them, who was once the apple of his or her eye, and still is, or maybe that person is under the influence of intoxicating forces, but rest assured, such people should be blatantly un stared and un glared, as the person who matters them to the most will always remain in their lives’, as that vital person…

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When I feel alone,

I think of all the moments,

that were so enriched,

The long walks, hand in hand,

with hopes, to meet again,

With smiles on my lips,

that wanted to erupt, in mirth, in the rain,

The silken web of dreams strewn, in beads of make believe,

I never knew pain,

Kept on moving, with no fear of disbelief,

But today, I am all alone,

Yet, still look at those memories, that let me comprehend,

is it,

Saner to be on my own, than those turns,

That will never, let me travel,

to those well trodden roads,

I took my choice,

and my chances,

to be on my own,

each day,

one memory,

of your’s,

is enough,

To make me live through,

So, it’s better, this way,

But, you went back,

Leaving me,

to let me moan,

Does the maddening crowd, ever let you think,

About, what…

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Blog blown


Crazy bloggers, or whatever!

As you log,

To read our blog,

You may think, we grab fatty food,

and hog, or actually gulp,

or sip on eggnog.

Sorry, for the image ruination, and,

Your graphic mental satisfaction, that,

While you jog,

With your dogs,


As doorknobs, desperate to hand out,

Innovative thoughts to amuse you and ourselves,

With eyes all cried out,

Coping and choking,

With arteries reddened  and clogged,

Lost in the fog,

Sitting on the sofa seats,

With our iPads, and laptops,

Pondering over who just logged, to check our travelogues,

We are, I declare, pretty normal people, not cogs, who just love to write our blown out thoughts,

and connect with others blogs,

Seriously, someone just checked my blog, world hold on, lol,

Thanks, for being catapulted in this non serious blog

Whatever, happy bloggin!!!!!

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For many life is not a bed of roses, the thorns prick and pinch at your insides.

The memories of gloriously lived and thoroughly loved moments, look straight in your eye, screaming out, you want to fight me?

Unaware, those silken days, passed so smoothly, filling our souls with inward joy. But, now, today, the day like a blank canvas, an empty hour and a hole in our hearts, stares at our vacant self.

Period! Time changed.

A sage once said, time is luck, if you run out of it, you apparently can’t do much about it

Crumbled dreams, broken and shattered we try to hold on to knotted memories of bygone days, not accepting the change, denial our most understandable virtue, but as nothing is constant as change, our teacher time is vicious, before moving on, it tells its pupils, “you shall cease to live, come with me, run…

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