Kallola

He waits for the dark to engulf him. He finds that rather safe. The moonlight sways to tease his eye but gets lost in the alley’s haze.      She walks alone, her home in sight      of the city that’s asleep.      He makes his move. Under the street lamps high,      he bids to daunt her grace. She fends him off. "That daring bitch! How dare she stay out late! And then to say she’s not for takes ... what insolent craze!"      A city swells in loud lament,      its reputation at stake!      What’s changed so much? Why do evils rise now      from celebrations’ daze? "The winter’s winds are warmer", you say, "And the streets are rife with life!" What one would think as grand design is another’s watcher’s maze.      You blame the wind, the people new.      You blame the men in chair,      w...

Shikari Shambhu’s all worked up: he’s seen some felines prowl. His cuppa tea still steams the cup But Shambhu’d rather growl. All geared up from head to boot, Rifle on shoulder, he’s ready to shoot. One look to his left, he glints to his right. He huffs and he puffs- oh! what a brave sight!! Behind that bush… Right down the hill… He tweaks his mush all set for the kill. Slowly and slowly he goes all the way. He thinks of nothing holy while barging through the hay. A whisp in his ear, an ant up his leg, a shriek from the rear, makes him stumble on a keg. Pinned on the ground there’s a brief coloured pink, with hearts inside round and squares and in link. But Shambhu is now blind with a rage young things dread, unless they’re the kind that yearns for his tread. Back-up comes quite soon enough, with bricks and bats in place. They pounce on pairs whose luck runs tough and rejoice in their disgrace. But the Ranger finds this errant boy and pulls his dipped hat straight. Not spared, were tho...