Ronie Dinoaur Chapter 42 – Truth

Ronie Dinoaur Chapter 42 - Truth I am the echo of my surroundings,
the sediment of my deeds,
the pulse of my present act,
the exact coordinates where I plant myself.
All of it- Read more from here...
Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 41 – Declaration

Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 41 - Declaration From a human perspective,
there is no god.
I know this verse.
There is no conscious universe.
At the cosmic scale and at the quantum scale, Read more from here...
Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 34 – Heaven and Hell

Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 34 - Heaven and Hell
Like a fish needs water,
like a lion wants meat,
like the poor need money,
like the hungry crave food,
I want reciprocation of afffection Read more from here...
Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 33 – Character

My house is built without electricity,
plumbing, or comfort.
Character is one such thing
that even if a man has no job,
even if he is reduced to
chasing houseflies Read more from here...
Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 32 – Just Stupid

Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 32 - Just Stupid
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who’s the fairest maiden of them all?
What kind of man am I?
What kind of heart do I have?
What is my mind capable of? Read more from here...
Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 17 – Author Statement

Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 17 - Author Statement I’m not a literary magician pulling silk scarves out of my sleeve.
I’m a man thinking out loud-
bleeding,
analysing,
still breathing. Read more from here...
Ronie Dinosaur Chapter 2 – Unbreakable

I was silenced at my questions-
each one met with a quiet no.
No one ever saw
the artist’s heart hammering inside me,
the poet’s tongue,
the philosopher’s gaze. Read more from here...
When You’ll Come

I am awake,
and the snakes are awake.
The job of snakes,
whether coiled in the jungle,
hidden behind your girl’s ears,
or wrapped around my own neck, 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...
I am Grief

He ran carrying the corpse of Sati on his shoulder,
asking the sky, “What is this weight? Why me?”
I run with empty fists clenched so tightly the knuckles bleed,
daring the same sky:
“Look me in the eye. Stop whining. Stop cheating. Fight fair.”
My arms are not open in surrender; Read more from here...
