LADY YODA PENS ROMANCE- PART ONE

There is a Greek saying, ‘those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.’ So, when their rage is over how to the gods excuse themselves? The answer is simple, one with the best handwriting comes and writes on the ceiling, ‘some are born mad, some achieve madness, some have madness written in them.’ I do not know which class I fall under, but I am enjoying this madness of mine.

I went to the city’s best psychologist. Damn, he has more problems than me. His smell was nauseating. He could not arrive at a solution. And right now what I want is the solution. Love is an economic good, it can be sold. Love is a social good, it should be accessed freely.

As a kid, I was nicknamed as Yoda. This hurt(ed) me a lot, it created an impact on me so great that even cosmos could not settle me, even if it tried. I grew up, did a research on the origination of ‘Yoda’. Got to know that Yoda’s look was inspired from Albert Einstein. The first face that comes to a person’s mind when we say ‘genius’ is Albert Einstein. Hence from that day onwards I cherished this name, I carried with me through slam books and social networks and on my wedding card too.

My love story is about war, it's about the drain, and about an exceptionally tasty fruit which has become extinct. 

"Yoda, it is not about how many women you've dated and got ditched. Loving is a rate which runs faster than a bicycle but crashes more tragically than the hijacked plane. When you see your ex-lover's present lover wearing the hoodie you gifted, it hurts, but this is called recycling, be happy. This planet is filled with phony, manipulative, selfish, cock sucking imbeciles, however, you dared to love; you are an exception though."

I have been in the midst of the loveliest crowd, I have heard songs of the best singers, I have dressed in the costliest of attire and tried the perfume which goddesses must have used to seduce the mightiest of warriors, but in all these, I could not find happiness. I have prayed to gods and to heroes for strength and wisdom but could not ease from the agony of that comes from the realization that you do not have, what you ought to have. I am just so depressed!

As a teenager, my favourite past time was cleaning the fridge. I stuffed it with foods. I am one of the few people in this world which do not believe that fridge keeps every food intact. But, I have to let go of him without missing him, I wonder how I am going to do that but I have to.

I wonder what life would have been to sit with him by a fire place and see our children draw the colorful balloons. These things and much more runs into my heart, then the thoughts of torturing him, killing him, excites me, for all I know is I loved him, and I still do...but I want to kill too.

I am depressed!

Because he cheated on me!

And that’s exactly why although it is not jealousy, sometimes it saddens me to see a couple who are too much in love, too much happy, too much connected, too much meant for each other. My experience has taught me weather and relationship are connected by the word ‘Unpredictable!’

I am sure you would be interested to know the reason why my soon to be ex-husband left me. Let me introduce her…

Whatever, let’s talk about her. She was my best friend. Her father is a rich womanizer and has a huge inflated ego, her mother is a man eater who thinks no end to herself, even after reaching her menopause, she dreams of competing with Kim Kardashian. They married, separated, then united, then separated, then united and lastly, it ended in divorce. Why am I talking about her parents? The tree and its fruits theory hold true...

Some six years ago, some body shaming misogynist insulted her on the social networking site.  I supported her, I called that person bastard, insane, and inhuman. Two years later, with all the right food, exercise, and yoga, she lost some kilos. I was the happiest human being because she felt good that way. I took her to the nearest shopping arcade, bought her a new pair of shoes, paid everything in cash and not by credit card. Once, on a sunny day she wore a sexy shirt, just to be drenched by rain, she ended looking like a caricature of some ‘B’ grade actress trying to seduce the virgin boy.

However, she is not the woman responsible for my divorce...

(To be continued...) 

A GRAMMATICALLY HATE FREE HATE

   Let me tell you a story about a man and a woman…

She was dying, he was her ex-lover,

He came to visit her with a bouquet and his wedding card,

Maybe he could not think of a better way to hurt her.

She knew him totally, his intentions, his actions,

‘Finally, the loser is going to score.’

Sarcasm was her first language.

To this, he replied, ‘too bad, you’ll be dead to see my victory,’

She gave back, ‘trust me, I ‘m going to live long enough to see you miserable, ruined and divorced.’

He smiled, ‘no way, she is not like you.’

‘Sweeter than honey, dangerous than cyanide, that’s me,’ she threw the card on the floor.

As usual, he came up with a conclusion, ‘let’s strike a deal, shall we?’

‘Oh, the same predictable you. What’s the deal?’

‘If you survive this bloody ordeal then I lose. If I survive my marriage then you lose.’

‘I will survive, deal!’ It was a thumb up from her side,

He walked away, deep down he was desperate to lose,

She smirked, deep down she was desperate to lose.

Their egos were huge but it was pendulum,

After a month, she passed away…

He never got divorced.

No!

No, he didn’t win the deal,

The truth is, he never got married,

Maybe he was determined to let her win, maybe he loved her in his own way…

I am told, he is waiting for the day to hear these words from her, ‘you bastard! You cheated. I won! I won!’

DATE THE MAN WHO LOVES POETRY

Date the man who respects poetry, 

Date the man who knows life is full of obstacles, and poetry is the creative reply to those obstacles,

Date the man who acknowledges Universe is a poem written by Space and Time,

Date the man who agrees with Mr. John Keating in Dead Poets Society when he says, “We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race, and the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering- these are noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love-these are what we stay alive for.”

Date the man who does not present other’s poetries as his own on the social networking sites to score chicks,

Date the man who creates songs from the poems hidden in his diary,

Date the man who knows Yehuda Amichai is not a Lebanese chicken recipe, 

Date the man who doesn’t stick only to Byron, Keats, Shelley, Blake, and Wordsworth.

Date the man who knows how to be a raging fire like Allen Ginsberg of Beat Generation and mellowed ice like Rabindranath Tagore of Bengal Renaissance,

Date the man who will be Neruda by your bedside when you are down with flu,

Date the man who doesn’t consider Sylvia Plath as an inferior poet,

Date the man who thinks Maya Angelou is magical.

Date the man who doesn’t laugh at your fondness for Lang Leav,

Date the man who is strong in his conviction that he needn’t be Rumi to appreciate woman,

Date the man who believes what Kahlil Gibran has to say about lovers,

Date the man who places the pillow on your head and reads poetry along with you.

Date the man who has newly acquired taste for black, asian, lgbt and ethnic minority poetry,

Date the man who appreciates slam poetry, the supersonic train of words,

Date the man who loves poetry, even better if you date the man who writes poetry,

*Date the man who shares this poem with you.