Flu's blues

at first i was afraid, i was petrified,
would i make it alone, with no one on my side?

but the time had come, i had to be free,
for how long would i be shunned by my own family,

they thought i was different, while we looked all the same,
i was kept in the corner, as if to hide some inner shame,

this one gray night it happened, i crept out on the road,
just me and this guitar, my one and only load.

passers sneered as i crossed, "is he the prodigal son?",
i quickened my steps, lest my cover be undone...

i sat by this river, strumming something a little blue,
"what's my purpose in this world, i'm just an ordinary flu",

but he crept from the shadows behind, a face marred with scars,
"I've been there, done that my friend, you can call me SARS"

And he told me the lessons of this new life i must lead,
there were others like me, i had found my chosen creed,

together we were ruthless, no one did we spare,
the monsoons were busy, we all got our penny's share,

But SARS came back one evening, he was unusually mum,
his eyes were swollen, lips were blue,.. i knew his time had come,

"Oh have you people no shame, have you forgotten the feeling of fear?
How could you even think of eradicating someone so dear?"

He sensed my agony, and held out his arm,
you're no longer an apprentice but the 'master of harm',

I appreciated the sentiment, but dint like the name,
it lacked a certain depth, it would never get me fame,

we debated all night, every option under the sun,
but only one felt strong, i would be called 'H1N1'

I spread like fire, from Mexico uptil Japan,
they trembled and called me swine! - "you poor idiots, I'll infect every man",

And one mid summers night, i saw my beloved prize,
this group of twelve, who still believed in all the lies,

i mingled freely, shared their every drink,
snuggled and waltzed till they were left at their very brink,

one mighty blow was all i thought it would take,
they were just kids after all, this would be a piece of cake,

"sniffle sniffle little lambs, go check your temperature degree,
Consider it a gift, i roared, from a man with no pedigree",

They sat there unfazed, some a little bemused,
As if this precious offer they had just bluntly refused,

Oh those bastards survived, not once did they fall,
not even antibiotics, they disgraced me with paracetamol,

back to the river! they said, to the place you had fled,
battered, bruised and broken, every ounce of me had bled,

i take out my guitar again to strum something blue,
just a has-been, a set extra, i'm an ordinary flu.. woo hooo hoo.

behind the scenes, the 1960's

for Dad, who introduced them as 'Simon and G'.
singer/writer Paul Simon, and well the other guy who sings behind him.

No respectable singer, he says, can call themselves a name like Garfunkel. heh.

spoiler alert

So yes, i have been noticing it too. This blog business has been getting a little too mushy, weepy, cribby. All the blogs Ive been reading around these days, including mine i admit, have been overtly introspective - success, failure, love, careers etc, etc.baaaaah.
aren't we being a little too hard on ourselves?

we need change, and believe you me - change is here.
So just to mix things up, I'm gonna reveal an idea that's been cropping in my head for a few days now. Its an introduction to what i hope can become entertaining and hopefully a regular feature on the blog. Its not about me for a change, and is not a discourse. There will be no preaching here, but just, hopefully a few moments of fun.

But here's the catch - its sleazy, cheap and admittedly a little sexist. It might even shatter your impression of me. So i'd gently advise parental guidance if need be and really to keep an open mind while reading...


Well the story begins with three men - friends, accomplices, partners in crime. But these weren't just ordinary lads - they were, as people would remember them to be later, on a planned mission. born & reborn again from my initial days in engineering to their now more current international avatar.

So without further ado id like to introduce you to three very special people:

Richard - now known as 'pricky dick' (a.k.a. tharak tantrik in his hay days) has, as is his name would suggest an urge he cant really resist. Shape, size, colour, orientation, structure, texture are irrelevant to him. He's pricky and well is a vulture - swooping in on a prey, smelling the blood. In his life there are no zebra crossings, and definitely no red blinking man. A cross between Barney Stinson and Donald Trump.


Harold - growing up in the roughest of towns, 'harlem harry' (a.k.a. baba baladkari) has seen the tough side of life. He's lived, fed, bled and pulled his way to the top. But while he might be wearing a suit now and then, and drive a black cadillac, the savage in him still survives. He likes it mean & dirty - quantity over quality. The brothels of harlem were his first taste of purity and he hasn't sipped another cup since. Hookers, he believes are man's best friend - they listen to your instructions, don't shed on the sofa, and leave the house when dirty.

Thomas - also goes by 'temperamental tom' (a.k.a. pyasa pujjari). Stuck between a rock and a hard place. We'll - figuratively at least. He believes in being a decent guy, and unlike some of his other colleagues is still looking for love, life, peace and all that jazz. But unfortunately, a man isn't always in control and as the years sweep by, he's become horny as hell. These opposing motivations confuse his very being and actions. He might be mushy at one point and desperate at the other. tender at first base, trouble at the second. a ticking time bomb that is waiting to blow.

So here it is, three men - friends who's personalities compliment and often conflict with each other. i like to call 'em Tom, Dick & Harry.



Disclaimer: A notice of decency

The sections will not be porn, trust me. If you have any thoughts, ideas, sketches or stories - send them in or post a comment.

And well, I'm only tagging on to a social trend i observe around me. Here's the latest from an agency that just won a few awards: