Works of RK

Raj, you need to know things about me that I have never told you. It will be easier for you to manage me that way. I hate lizards, they give me the creeps and they always stare me down. If you have lizards in your kitchen, there is no way I will do the cooking! I love to cook but not everyday. You need to take me out once in a while. Maybe once a month. I love long drives and I am not a shopaholic. I shop rarely and don't spend much. But I would love you to take me out shopping and tell me which dress to wear, what color what fabric. I wear westerns, I hope your parents won't object. Its just that I never wore salwars. And Raj, though I come across as someone strong and sure, I feel terribly low at times and find it difficult to take decisions. You need to help me when I am down. You sleep at 10 and I at 11. I hope you will not want to change that. I will read something while you sleep. And you know what... I love to sleep naked (blush blush), entwined and huddled. You don'

Raj...what is "Time"? Hmmm...why do you ask me stupid questions. I am not Aristotle! Honey, please answer this one for me please, I am a little muddled in my mind. Time is that which passes between a beginning and an end. It can be measured by peeling off pages from a calendar or stupidly counting the number of times your watch repeats its stupid movements. But what if there is no beginning and no end. How will you define Time for things with no beginning and no end? They are timeless. Thank you Raj. You are my Plato.

Life exhausts itself at a pace beyond my control. I have been dancing to heavy metal for too long. I think it is time for a slow dance. The night sky shows whatever stars my city can afford to show me, they are not many. No, I cannot hear the whirring of the universe, the honking horns probably drowns them. No, I do not have too many people who would take my call at this hour, there is just you and my landlord who will probably be drunk by this time. I know it is late. I know I could have given you some advance notice. Yes I know there is no one to feed the fishes. Yes I know that two bags of laundry is pending. Yes, I understand that the neighbors will be very curious as to where you are going at this hour. It will only take an hour. If you want, I will drop you back as well. Don't worry I will return on my own. No, it can't be done at your place. Your terrace is locked and there are too many high rises around your apartment. Yes, ten minutes with me. Yes I do. I promise I wil

http://www.adhousebooks.com/misc/gallery.html Yes. I am busy most days. Yes. I don't have what you would call a life. I have not gone to a pub in the last five years. Never taken a four day break, except to attend a wedding or a funeral. I do not have a passport and I do not want to travel to Europe our Dubai. I only read FB and rarely seed FB. The only time I spend on doing anything other than working is writing and yes I know, I am selfish and I write because it gives me an alternate sense of identity. I am a small fry, a nobody. I know that when I die of stress or heart attack or brain hemorrhage, I will not be called a martyr by my Board of Directors. No resolution will be passed to install my half butt near the parking lot. No sparrow poop for me either! All I will do is proudly go and stand in queue of millions of dead donkeys with broken backs in heaven. And bray my prayers loudly to neutered angels who can't probably play substitute to dear lass Sunny Leonne. And now do

I cannot promise you that I will be the best thing that will happen to you. Life is not a never ending circus, it has its ups and downs. And between the shows, I have heard that there is much hard work. When the curtains go up, i will be your favorite clown, dancing around you and trying to make you laugh.  And when the lights are down, I will be there to tend to your swollen feets, massage your shoulders and wash away your makeup. I will make your bed and hush you to sleep. And I will always find you beautiful.

I am a traveling salesman. All my life, I have sold ordinary stuff, but not before carefully wrapping them in mystical weaves of svelte velvet dreams. I have heard the best of stories from one shore, added a wee bit of my own and sold it to the other shores. This will never end. I have a million more. There have always been people who stopped to listen. Always people who have waited with silent anticipation, hoping that the story teller would come their way, and amidst his tales, sell them some stupid stuff as well. In me they heard their own voices, mine was muted, I never had a story of my own. And as I grew older, I learned the kind of stories that people love to hear. Those were no stories of fairies and gnomes, these were stories of ordinary lives, everyday people like you and me, fighting over every day issues, and winning! For the drab life that they lived, they wanted me to make them believe in an alternate life. From the yesterdays that they remembered, and the today they cons

I once knew a girl who would look at me as if I were the Creator and she my Creation. She was otherwise a very fiery spirit, always the one with most questions, always the one who had the last word. But when she was with me she went all silent, as if I were a black hole and every time we were around, she used to take shapes of things I love, she used to lose herself and become a part of me. For me, she used to become a muted doll. Exquisite to look at, amazing to drape around, awesome to sleep with, but slowly, a bore to wake up to. I remember the first days of our relationship. I used to love Hard rock cafe and she was a Rolling Stone buff. I loved Meatloaf, and she was stuck with MJ. I used to quote Ayn Rand, and she would quote from the Manifesto. I loved this girl once, she was wonderfully different. Two colors could blend to form a third one. We could have together become more than each other. And then one day she woke up from her slumber. It seems she found me with another doll d