Midnight soliloquy

 All I see in these beautiful brown eyes

Is the warp and weft of immense hope

Weaving through a body halved

No fear, pain, a worry none

But joy of seeing one more day dawn


Freshened nerves prance

under bruised baby skin

She lies awake

soul rekindled

Shit happens

That's when life begins!0

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Before the Byline and Dubai and the world

Before I became a journalist at 21 and joining The Free Press Journal in 1979 I dreamt of becoming a chef. The hospitality industry had my heart. I loved food. Still do.Back then, in the very-little-or-no-money days (Wilson College in the morning, Zenith Tin Works for the 8-hour shift beginning 3pm) joy came wrapped in newspaper or served on grimy plates and pieces of old mewspaper; kheema-pav at Dadar Lucky's just across from our building. Wadapav near Kirti College, Crisp dosas at Visava, and burji-pav outside Dadar railway station: greasy, spicy and perfect. Food was both nourishment and occasion. You didn’t need an event; eating was the event.Dadar in those years was a living, breathing, hungry part of Bombay. People rushed to trains with a wadapav in hand, argued cricket over chai at tapris and built lives out of chawls and borrowed dreams. I was one of them. A young man with a tall frame, gangly limbs, and a stomach that seemed to growl on cue.Then came a little twist of fate...
Read more

What’s With the Delay, God? We Could Really Use Some Help!

 I’m a Catholic, but I’m not religious. Or maybe I am—just in a way that would make both a priest and a pandit shake their heads in confusion. I kneel and pray to Jesus with the same sincerity as when I press my palms together and bow before Ganapati. I’ve stood in churches with tears in my eyes and sat through pujas with the same devotion. If there’s a God listening, I’m making sure He, She, or They get my message. Around my neck, I wear a golden cross on a chain and a brown scapular. A symbol of faith, tradition, and, in my case, a little bit of superstition. If layering faiths worked for my ancestors—who probably had a rosary in one pocket and a coconut for an offering in the other—then why should I be any different? But faith is a funny thing. It’s easy to believe in miracles when you’re praying for a job, a house, or a good monsoon. But what about when you’re praying for something bigger? What about when you’re kneeling on the cold floor at 3 a.m., whispering, “God, are you ...
Read more

What the 2025 IPL Taught Us About Brand Building in the Age of Public Everything

The Day RCB Finally Won – What the 2025 IPL Taught Us About Brand Building in the Age of Public Everything By David D’Souza Last night in Ahmedabad, Royal Challengers Bengaluru finally did it. After 17 seasons of heartbreak, memes, and shattered fan hopes, RCB lifted the IPL 2025 trophy — beating a resolute Punjab Super Kings in a final that had more emotion than all 70 matches leading up to it. Virat Kohli didn’t punch the air or leap into a huddle. He just knelt. Right there in the middle of the pitch. Bent his head low. Stayed still. And let it all wash over him. His eyes were moist. His face was folded in silence. He didn’t need to speak. A few moments later, the team rushed in. They didn’t leap onto him. They bent down next to him. Teammates, some younger by a decade, leaned in and placed their hands gently on his shoulder. There was no screaming. No selfies. Just reverence. And then, the most intimate image of all. Anushka Sharma, who had watched every ball from the stands, cam...
Read more