Monday, February 28, 2011

Roses are red


Roses are red 
red hearts that bleed 
lie limp in lights that fade
faded eyes speak 
of heartaches, hurt and hate
hate blinding lights, dead ends, 
narrow lanes suggestive of cruel intentions
intentions and intuitions played dead
and let blind hearts hit thorns
thorns red roses grow 
are aimless lovers' bed 
where they shed torment and pain
pain which every heart knows
pain which swallows mirth 
pain which roses permit 
pain red as roses 
pain are thorns 
thorns and roses 
bled the hearts 

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Civic sense? What sense? No(n)sense?

I have nothing against smokers except when they light up and puff away near a kid or an infant and when they fling the stubs away, anywhere they please.

This is a photograph of a drain outside my office. I loved how the raindrops were creating ripples but look at the number of cigarette butts in there. Spoils everything. The funny thing is that a waste bin is placed very close to the drain, but smoker's would rather drop it in the drain.

Just the other day I was coming out and I got a whiff of an unpleasant smell. Thought it was a wet dog but found out it was the drain.

Once someone stubbed cigarette butts in my mug. I was infuriated. Nobody owned up, but that was the first and last.  The most ironic part is that the drain is outside the newsroom and my mug inside the newsroom. So where do we start lessons in civic sense? 

PS: Neither am I not pointing fingers nor claiming to be someone who abhors smokers or the smoke. Just wondering why some can't look beyond their own selfish means.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Beautiful Gloomy Day

Every one is cooped up inside in the comfort of heated rooms and cubicles. It's cold but I can't simply let this moment go. Such a beautiful day. Have to capture it. The damp, cold, fresh day that is today.