( my poem published in 'The Asian Age', over a decade ago) Facing the Music System I too possess I hate to alas! Those crafted to the last detail Coffins of music Gram phone records, cassettes And now Compact Discs Lies within which nailed The joy of missing those songs Missed, miffed forever and ever At your fingertips Are your favourite numbers Like the love of your beloved wife You get them any time Any number of times Wondering into where, how And why did the joy of Rarity fly? And unwittingly inventing a system To crush them Or facing the music system
I write therefore I am. It is no holds barred. World is the page I crawl on. At the end of the day I want the readers to wonder 'what is in store for us next?' If in the due course I succeed in discovering myself, I would feel gratified.