The Master of Clichés

Once there lived a man
who spoke only in clichés.
He walked a thousand miles,
chimed nonsensical rhymes.
He broke into a house,
whacked the golem around.
Till his hands were sore,
yeah, he’s such a bore.
The guy is in a quarry
and hopes one day he’ll marry.
Harlem’s bride who needs a ride.
I say good lord here’s such a man
who spoke only in clichés.
I met a dozen souls,
still wanted to be sure.
There’s no confusion,
only retribution.
I see a moving head,
better run instead.
When I see a man
who spoke only in clichés.
Oh you’re such a man
who won’t understand.
You spoke only in clichés.

Time is Short

Down by the seashore,
we gonna roll
Roll roll baby,
make an uproar.
Cause a commotion,
feed on the wild.
Fill our bellies
To make more time.
Time for us, time for us, time for us is short.
I’ll get the logs,
You cut the wild.
We gonna make some
tender tonight.
There are no dishes,
there are no chores.
We got each other,
nowhere to go.
Time for us, time for us, time for us is lost.
Three days have passed,
no food in sight.
Let’s brace ourselves
with all our might.
I love ya, I know
you love me more.
Still, I’ll cut ya
to live more and more.
Time for us, time for us, time for us is gone.

One More Breath


I’ve learned the lesson of my life.

I’ve to lie, I’ve to be polite.

She used a nutcracker and cracked the ten fingers one by one. She enjoyed the screams of her victim more than she rejoiced the sound of the nutcracker. She squeezed so tight that her muscles tensed up throughout the body. She was hot and sweaty from the rush down her spine. It was thrilling like nothing else in her life. She would have loved to crack open the skull. A girl with a dirty desire had limitations. Maybe another time, she thought. The screams were making her mad; it wouldn’t stop. She had her fill. So, she went for the kill.

She shredded the eyes with a pocket knife. It was mean and messy. The victim had received adulations for having beautiful eyes and soft hands. The girl who lost her mind made an attempt to teach the victim a lesson. She started with the hands and made sure they were unworthy of a handshake – the usual first touch point. When she looked into her eyes, she went wild. The brutal girl used her brute force and dissolved the white into the red.

She enjoyed every bit of it. She already had her next victim in mind. But something dissuaded her from following her desire. She knew that the police are searching for the killer. She didn’t want to end up in prison. She believed there’s no saving her from such a crime. She may be declared a lunatic. She would rather die than end up in an asylum. She had only one choice ahead of her.

The Surge of The Urge


Just this last thing you should know before leaving. We have a few minutes left. There goes the signal for five. I love their flexing of the palm. These nurses talk so much that they end up making the same gesture with their palms. Quite innovative, I would say. Now, how do you like them? I mean, of course, you do. Who wouldn’t in their right mind? But seriously, don’t tell me you don’t fancy even a single one. You can’t be that young. This leads to the obvious. Are you by chance on Grindr? I’m just curious. Don’t get me wrong here. But I would love to know what it’s like. Maybe, some other time. If there’s even another time. We’ll see. For now, let’s finish what we started. I started this long and winding road with you and I don’t know what next. I told you a lot about life, mostly the part which concerns difficulty and suffering. Your suffering led me to this. Your suffering and my suffering got us closer. See, it’s simple to bond with people even if you share just one thing in common. But the thing should be a powerful thing. It should be strong enough. It should be eternal. Hence, I leave you with a simple thought: What next?

To React in an Act


Herman met his team after office hours for the first practice session. One of them didn’t show up citing a headache. Happens, Herman thought.

‘Five souls, five roles, and one act. Let’s divide the roles,’ he said.

The five roles included a priest, a nun, the possessed boy, and his father. Herman would be the narrator of the story when there are no dialogues. But he wasn’t sure if all the guys would be present during the act. It was a long shot for him expecting things from his teammates.

The stage was set. The lights turned off. Herman switched the lights back on as it was pitch dark. Sacrifices were to be made for a great cause, he thought. It was decided that the lights would be dim to give a tinge of horror. Let the audience be at unease. Let them be one with the act. Let them feel the terror. Let them have the thrill of their lives. Herman was shooting for the moon with a bunch of toddlers in the sphere of drama.

When the team started the practice, Herman felt his heart beating faster. They were no good, none of them. Only the possessed boy was putting up a decent enough act since he had to act like a madman. The team had a week for practice. Herman knew it won’t be enough. The first practice session attested for the fact that it will never be enough.

If I Had What You Have


Ronan coughed until his throat dried up. His condition was deteriorating. A man walked up to him. He talked about Ronan’s health. Ronan ignored him. But he wouldn’t give up.

‘If it would help, I was where you are now. I too had a chest infection. I too coughed just like you. You see the wind is no friend of yours if you stay out in the open for long.’

‘Ain’t I glad to hear that? Why are you following me? Leave me alone if you won’t give me money,’ Ronan said.

‘Here is some…There you go. Happy now? Listen, I got a job and worked my way up. This is the only way out. Maybe, I can help you out with…’

‘No mister, never.’ Ronan left the man behind. He didn’t want a job. He had a promise to keep to himself and to God. He would rather suffer and die. He would never work for someone else. His cough got rougher. He started spitting blood. He looked up in the sky and mumbled something. He tried to speak but he couldn’t. He was growing weaker with each step. He knew he didn’t have long. He decided to get a drink with whatever money he got today. One last drink, one last time.

If I Had What You Have


Ronan saw the sun slightly on the west side. Half the day went by and he was as morose as a man on his deathbed. He came across many people with problems of their own. But he believed them to be better off than him. Something possessed by someone but not by Ronan – does it make them better off? Does it show fate as being unfair to him? Does it mean that Ronan deserves more and rightly so? If one were to ask Ronan, he would have said yes to all without the blink of an eye. He believed he was born this way destined to suffer immensely at the hands of his oppressors.

He eyed them all while dragging himself down the street. He didn’t know what he was doing. Begging was always on his mind. But he felt a hole in the act. Something wasn’t right. He wanted more in his life. Taking a long walk every day in the hope of getting by is not an easy task. He was devoid of the company of friends and family. He didn’t have any place which he could call his home. He never had real joy in life. He felt hollow inside. A life without a purpose is no life at all, he remembered a generous gentleman’s words. This was troubling him today more than ever.