Sapthaaaa!i'm thinking about. . .
how to fill this one up with minimum effort.i want to . . .
fill this one up with minimum effort and go to the loo (now you get it)i wish . . .
this had fewer I's and more of "favorite colors" and "favorite drinks" (makes life easier you know)i hear . . .
mundane clattering of keyboards. my manager's baritone in the background. a bunch of immature skunks hissing and annoying in the diagonally opposite cubicle (yes, i live in a
prison(cell # : btp3sa53)). laughter, laughter, and more laughter. bah! maybe i am growing too old.i wonder . . .
why i am growing old? and oh! damn...this should have gone into the "I wish" section - i wish i was born with an expiry date; that way i could have planned much better.i am . . .
not who you think i am, neither who i think i ami dance . . .
to ... good ol' jazz
for ... pure joy
with ... myself (and a football)i sing . . .
when i am riding my motorbike/cycle through the maddening lanes of bangalore. i usually touch the higher octaves when cruising on a fly-over or a deserted street. i am
song-shy, yes.i cry . . .
"oh my beep! i am not coming!"i write . . .
once in a while, like this, to confuse. to improve. to impress. to implore. to infest...nevermindi confuse . . .
myself, often.i need . . .
a kingfisher that does not fly.phoolwanti!
aapk ki baari :-P