Others please write poems too

You both have an appreciation of art |
You both are great connoisseurs |
Lets continue what we did start |
Read mine and reply with yours ||

Lets make this an endless thread |
A forever kawwali session |
Write with all inhibitions shed |
Write with poetic passion ||

The sad state of Bollywood

Bollywood doesnt care for lyrics |
Rarely does a song have meaning |
Gone are the days of the classics |
When there was proper screening ||

Still if asked to contribute |
I may consider writing some songs |
After all I cant remain mute |
With music suffering from so many wrongs ||

Clutching old memories

Oh how can I forget you
We used to talk so much
It was sad when I bid adieu
All the memories I still clutch

Making Pathak rhyme his poems

Hey how come you didnt like my poetry
Which caused Pathak to write his own
Else he would still be on the unrhyming tree
Would have never ever come down

The need for rhyme

You are finally getting into the mode
Where rhyme is not an afterthought
Rhyme creates resonance in an ode
And that is why its so dearly sought

Try better

Well this time you did try,
But brought in a contradiction
With the first 2, last 2 dont apply
Take a stand with conviction

Birthday 2011

While I am reading Pamuk’s book |
There is a knock at the gate |
My friends bear a mischievous look |
One of them holds a plate |

They all gather into my room |
This dirty mess of a place |
The camera is set to zoom |
The cake set upon its base |

Post candles, wishing and bumps |
In a bold attack they partake |
I get covered in cream lumps |
With their sweet assault of cake |

Miracles

Oh miracles, you surprise me |
And well by definition you should |
For showing nothing to be an impossibility |
You deserve nothing less than sainthood |

Sometimes a great star is born

The universe is a highly active place |
With heavenly bodies constantly forming |
Sometimes however a great star is born |
One makes me merry every morning |

Sahu's comment on the Spellbound Poem:
And we have to go underground
else your jokes will hound ...

Repartee:
Your lack of aesthetics does astound,
Seeing even you thus confused and frowned
Has caused my despair to only compound
The mermaid of hope has stumbled and drowned

A poem leaves me spellbound

The mind rattles the sky and digs the ground |
Searching for those expressions till they are found |
Thus meeting the constraints of meaning and sound |
The poem emerges, leaving me spellbound |