You’re my atta, my food to eat
You’re my atta, my food to eat-
every parent learns to use the child,
fulfilling purpose through skin or feat,
the reward they mean to keep.
Of course, every bud must bloom a flower;
they exploit every facet, every power. Read more from here...
Leftover Man – the Common Indian Man
When a girl-
or a woman-
scrolls past my profile,
the desi lens brands me:
womanizer, playboy,
cheapster in a sleeveless shirt. Read more from here...