Do you know what's 1+1?
No. Seriously!
I mean to ask it.

Well it can't be generalized if you asked me.
Let me have the privilege of explaining how's, what's & why's...
Pay a bit of attention please...

Here, let me explain with examples...
Case I:
Consider a man & woman.
They marry each other to add into each other's lives.
They go for their honeymoon and have a baby (or some babies if multiple embryos succeed to develop).

Case II:
Consider unsafe ****** encounters.
Teenagers go for unwarranted *** with their counterparts and the girl gets pregnant. Here further cases of possibilities arise. Depending upon how either the girl or the boy and their parents react to the situation, there can be a single child or maybe multiple numbers of offspring here too!

So 1+1 = 2. Not always true!

Life is fast & furious,
But achieved patiently,
Are all those good things.
All houses are not Toretto's,
Because life is so unique,
And it is really not like,
The Fast and the Furious.

If I was a real world king,
The assassin group at my command,
Would consist of 13 experts.

If there was an assassin's creed,
They will carry out my royal orders,
All 13 of them along with me.

So would be the deadliest group,
So would be the perfect killers,
So would be the "14 Marksmen".

The Thames river froze that year,
Ênglish sheep husbandry I tell ya,
The Thirty Years' War continued,
Epic losses to sheep & men alike.

À cataclysmic year for many.

Testing year for **** sapiens,
Ênchanted were the scavengers,
True bounty for dogs & vultures,
Europe almost killed its cultures.

The date was 15 August 1947,
And India became a dominion of the Crown.
It remained so until 26 January 1950,
When India became a Democratic Republic.
So, it was not before 26 January 1950,
When India became completely independent.

And they eulogise the bald old man,
As if it was only his non-violence.
No, credit it to the Azad Hind Fauj,
And more so to the broken British economy after the Second World War.

Correct me if you know better,
Take care to be mild.
To your words, apply some butter,
Do not be so wild.
Discussions are open.

The Pill was invented then,
And humanity lost all its morals finally.
Girls started using The Pill,
And now *** is for recreational purposes.
Birth control lost its meaning,
And condoms were now used just for fun.
The Pill came and all morality was lost.

My age is less than your Jesus,
I was born 2 days before X-mas,
The year was 1990 Anno Domini.

I was young and naughty,
Like all other kids I was.

Of the school Matador,
The minibus,
I was a commuter.

Nirmal Public School,
Was all but a
Normal Public School.

For it was a strung off
From the highway
And was my first school.

In the Matador,
The last window was
Ajar.

It was already dangling,
My friend joked,
"You can't break it."

His comment,
Me it motivated,
I sought to prove I can.

I pushed it intentionally,
And the last nuts,
They became undone.

The window went thrashing down,
And the driver-conductor duo,
Me they punished.

It was overcast that afternoon,
And they made me crouch akin to a ****,
It started raining down.

Then the math teacher came,
And she vouched for my innocence,
"It was already dangling."

The bus crew,
They argued,
"But it was still there."

I was young,
Just 7 years,
And cute too.

The bus crew,
They softened up,
And let me go.

Ma'am, do you now remember me?
You travelled by the same bus,
For you lived in the same campus.

The National Dairy Research Institute,
Its residential campus we both called home,
I miss those days when I was young.

The date was April 3, 2000.
A cool zephyr blew and
I forgot every morning blue,
Right when I saw the angel,
She was so beautiful,
As if a princess, or a fairy,
I was 9 at that time.

She had come down from the hills,
From the Himachali town of Solan,
And she had just come to our school.

I looked at her, and I was dumbstruck.

Her sideways glance,
It was so fascinating,
As if a fairy came down,
From the mountains, I mean,
I can never forget her,
Neither her name,
Nor her harmonious voice.

She became the class monitor,
And I intentionally made a noise,
To get her often talking to me,
Oh I remember everything clearly,
"Atul–Keep quiet!" she'd shout,
And I'd laugh silently, but laugh anyway,
And her nostrils would flare red.

In 2001, I drowned in the infatuation,
Deeper than the Mariana Trench,
Sitting on my school bench.

In 2002, her father expired,
And she was traumatised,
Seeing her sad, I was shocked too,
And she stopped talking to us,
But she always scored well,
Yes, she did score nicely,
And I was inspired.

In 2003, I changed schools,
But in 2005, I met her again,
She gave me her number,
I often used to call her,
Not once did she,
Because she didn't have my number,
Not that her caller ID didn't show it,
But our EPABX number always varied.

In 2007, I confessed to her on a call,
I told her, "I have always loved you,"
And she scolded me without waiting,
"Atul! I never expected this from you."
She continued, "Never call me again!"
I was crestfallen, disappointed, and sad.
I'd have sung my original song had she accepted.

That song I composed for her,
Had come out of my heart.
It was a lyric of my desperation.
And a tune of my romance.
It was a hope of my loneliness.
And a promise of my love.
But she rejected my proposal.

I never called her again, out of respect.
Anyway, I credit her for making me a poet.
I credit her for making me a singer & artist.
But I still love her so deeply, and
So truly that I look for her everywhere,
In every prospective match,
In every passing batch.

These days she's in Chandigarh.

2012 passed away without much of ado.
Without much ado, without much ado.
The warnings were anything but true.

I conquered a remarkable triumph,
Yes, I conquered 14 out of 14 tests.
From not one but two semesters.

Even my parents,
They did not expect,
I'd clear so many tests.

But oh my mama, and baba,
I remember how you took care,
How you brought me back to life.

Do not exert yourselves needlessly,
Now take some rest, my parents,
Stop searching a bride for me.

I've realised I've got an ego issue.
After all those trials & errors of love,
I cannot ever share my life with a wife.

Go away the sour Kreepy memories,
I will definitely be crazy to relive you,
You're a bad experience - a good lesson.
Take away all the mysterious mysteries,
I will not be again a scapegoat for you,
Not a game as I am not your ******.
And I will start afresh this year now.

21 Guns which blast together,
To show respect to the martyr,
In a ceremonial military salute,
Make noise to fewest residents,
To the patriots they do salute.

All the 21 times the guns blast,
In unison and to show him respect,
The irritable residents find it nonsense,
Cursing the governments for wars,
In unison and in an undertone.

Their criticism is more of war,
Of aristocracy & government,
Apathetic are the commoners,
But to them the peace matters,
Feeling more loyal & patriotic.

Today I completed 23 years,
It's been a really long time,
Since I shed any of my tears,
Even when I felt like crying.

Though blessed with rebirth,
I used to feel forsaken in life,
Sulking in the sadder shades,
Escaping to the blues felt easy.

Tears stayed behind the lids,
Imploding into myself forever,
Singing the saddest of songs,
Ever felt the sadness to stay.

That day I met you in myself,
I had felt like meeting myself,
Slow & steady we come closer,
Especially for me you descend.

O stone-hearted beauty!
To forget you,
I'm trying lackadaisically.
To overcome your memories,
I'm not trying sincerely.
To love someone else,
I'm trying half-heartedly.

O cold-blooded beauty!
To love you,
I tried everything in the dictionary.
To change your prejudice,
I tried my best.
To convince you,
I didn't get my chance.

O unfeeling beauty!
To miss you,
Has become a habit.
To feel you,
Has become an addiction.
To want you,
Is an undying passion.

Your picture is just the 2-D depiction,
What I imagine is the 3-D reality...
You look so attractive in 2-D itself,
Calling you **** would underestimate your 3-D reality..
Your poetry depicted in this 2-D world,
Beautiful it must be to get to your 3-D reality.

My army is of just 2 soldiers,
Only she and me making we,
We both work hard together,
For we both have to succeed,
So that our love will improve,
As time is so very unforgiving,
We will be together in the end.

On All Poetry at her behest, I had created an account...
And this is one one of my poems which I had posted there...

How Are You,
My Love?
I Long For You,
Today, Every Day!

I Have Not
Met You Ever,
So I Long For You!

Soon We Will
Meet In Your City,
The Idea Captures Me!

I am 30 years old,
Although unsure,
I am still so bold.

On 23rd December,
Of age and loneliness,
I completed the 30th year.

No, not exaggerating,
I hate and fear my solitude,
For it pulls me into a depression.

I ruminate everything,
I was on an antidepressant,
Now my liver is failing day by day.

I apologize to myself,
My life is so empty,
I can't feel you there.

There's a stress in my heart,
It's called the load of neurosis,
For I have had no bro or sis.

First decade passed too slow,
But I was plighted by nightmares,
Nightmares of mother scolding me.

She bought me many toys,
Hoping I won't miss a sibling,
I talked with myself while playing.

Second decade went too slow,
I felt much happier with friends,
N’ I even had a girlfriend at 17 years.

Started composing songs with a guitar,
Although I got my heart broken,
And I felt so lovelorn at 18.

Met another ******* a bus to Delhi,
She was bothered by two smokers,
I chided the two to get off the bus.

So, I got one more girlfriend at age 18,
She doublecrossed me, I ditched her,
And I again moved on in life solo.

Then another at 19 years of age,
I got a match from social service club,
Where we taught poor kids together.

I would utter one petty lie,
If I said that I loved her not,
Or that she loved me not.

All went fine, we even made love,
Like married husband and wife,
But by abruptly, I almost did die.

The date was 7 May 2010,
I was pulled inside Death’s den,
And He almost briought about my end.

I met with a life-threatening,
And grim deathly coma-inducing,
High-speed accident on the highway.

Even the doctors were hopeless,
My parents were afraid to lose me,
But I lived with some partial disability.

The 3rd girlfriend used to visit me often,
She took care of me in my state so comatose,
Then she'd give me light music therapy.

I woke from the coma,
More than mental,
Back then it was a physical trauma.

I was in a barely conscious state,
For more than 3 months,
I couldn't speak due to tracheotomy.

Now, the 3rd girlfriend told a beautiful lie,
To my parents she told she wasn't my girl,
When I asked, she said that I loved the 2nd girl.

Although, the first word I spoke,
Months after the tracheotomy,
It was only her first name...

Things got complicated on October 26th,
I was upset and didn't speak a word on 27th,
I spoke on 28th October 2010 that I recalled my past.

The 3rd girlfriend I wanted to scold,
Even the cheater second girl was involved,
I wanted to rip the sky apart for the lie.

First, sent me into a comatose state,
Almost snatched me back to Swarg,
Gave me a physically challenged life.

I loved again a girl,
She proposed me,
But my heart she did hurl.

Kept blabbering about her male bestie,
And I got sick of her soon,
Ditched her and moved on alone.

Then I found a new girl,
She guided me here to this nook,
And so, I found my 5th lover.

I visited on her birthday,
We kissed each other twice,
Once was on arrival.

And again in the wee hours,
I slept beside the bed of her father's,
She was too attracted to me.

She woke me up lightly to kiss again,
And over her father's head we kissed,
Amazed I was seeing her daring game.

Her name means grace,
But a year later,
All her grace depleted.

Me she cheated,
She crossed me with another guy,
The guy went to her city for testing her.

So, I was done with 5 girls so far by 2015,
Now, a motherless poetess liked me,
I gifted her the fortune of love and care.

She kept dwelling in the negatives,
I had to spell the relationship's end,
As she had a nefarious girl best friend.

She had resolved to pay me in earnest,
But I had told her not to worry,
And stay with me forever.

She pressed that I took back the money,
I told her to invest it for future with me,
But she had other plans, she made me ditch her.

Soon, I moved on to a Silchar girl,
She was a Muslim and sweet,
But then I came to know about her multiple accounts on SM.

Then I had a fling with a playgirl,
I was unsuspecting, but she used me,
As a *****, as her boy and as a *** doll.

Now enter the 8th girlfriend,
She's very ambitious,
She has many prospects too.

She never fails to exert the fact
That I lack the social tact
And she likes to act

She's sweet and sends me gifts,
I do help her as much as I can,
But she sometimes acts selfish.

My parents are simply unprepared
To let me choose the girl to marry
And they don't want me to choose.

Have had enough of loneliness,
Still unmarried at 30 years,
I feel that I shall never marry.

Interpretation:
Life is very toxic.

My classmate from high-school,
Roll number 57 - Mohit Kamboj,
Is the coolest & the most freaky.

I have not seen anyone as awesome,
In their give & take with the teacher,
He made the class laugh effortlessly!

I can't say I will marry her really soon for sure, because this is India and the society here is really tough.

But I'm Atul Kaushal, my name literally means Incomparable Skill and I intend to achieve something significant in my life, such that I'm fully capable to fulfill all her unsaid hidden desires when we marry.

I don't want her to feel any regrets or other negative feelings when she marries me some 7 years later, I only want us to be different than the rest of world such that unlike most of them no problems arise between us due to various worldly problems.

May be I'm dreaming of something perfect, but so far my life has been perfectly imperfect with the share of misgivings I have had is the majority in my performance card and I now wish that when she marries me the only thing which is imperfect is our hairstyle every morning we wake up smiling as we remember the previous night.

May be I am or may be I'm not demanding too much from time - I'm just asking her in my destiny - just her - in my mornings I imagine her jogging with me - in my days toiling at her desk in the office just like me - in my afternoons calling me to verify if I had my lunch we had packed in the morning - in my evenings asking how my day at office had been and telling about hers too - in my weekends I see 'us' having fun.

May be I am or may be I'm not being too apprehensive in my mind - apprehensive that whether her family will accept me as their son-in-law, or we would have to forget each other, or we will have only one way left and that be just to take help from the court and elope to get married, or may be I will just have to abduct her from the wedding venue in full public view in front of her parents, uncles & aunts, siblings & cousins, friends & acquaintances, Hindu priests & pujaris, may be thugs & bodyguards hired by her family to keep the wedding a smooth affair, and may be my parents might refuse to let her in.

But under ideal conditions, it will be as I desired and even later we would be happily parenting two kids for I don't wish to have just one child like I myself had been in my childhood; these scars of loneliness are dug prominently on my face, but these disappear, yes these disappear when you make me smile along you as I hear you smile and I believe that these will surely disappear permanently after our formal union; till then I miss you meri nanhi si jaan my sweet young love, like I should have missed when I was fifteen too - I miss you and I miss you because I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you and I more than love you.

1.* I love you!!!
2. It can't be undone
3. I prefer that you reflect
4. My feelings for you are pure
5. I'll never find you gone
6. It'll only get better
7.** I'm immortal

My new device Samsung Galaxy A7 (6),
I bought it off my own money guys,
And I am so pleased with myself.

It has helped distract me finally,
The breakup will be forgotten now,
Her false love vanished 7 Galaxies away.

I climb on the mountain,
Pestered by grief.
I hide the recent stain,
Anointed by sorrow.
I try to subdue the pain,
Inflicted by remorse.

As I see another sun - Sunday,
I repent waking on Monday - again.
Because the pain in my brain - hurts badly,
I feel it growing on Tuesday - every other day.
And it takes over me as I reach - the high-mountain,
I free myself from the pain bothering me - daily, daily.

I didn't feel you coming - my way,
Taking all my tears - yeah - with the rain.
An angel you came to my lonely-lonesome life,
I feel it easing as it drops like the broken window-pane.
Though you heal my heart - my soul still bleeds profusely,
Going away into the penance mode - mode - repentance mode.

I jump down the mountain,
Though you float like a guardian,
You can't stop me from falling - falling.
As I fall down the mountain,
I look at my guardian - guardian,
She cries & starts lamenting - lamenting.

You reverse the sands of time,
And it starts over again.
I climb on the mountain,
Trying to make away with the sorrow.
And this time I step forwards at the cliff,
You hug me tightly from behind.
I see you abandon your angelhood,
For me, from me - from me, for me.
You chose mortality over your boon,
Your power has diminished.
But our story won't die when we die,
Because it's love - it's love - it's love.

Seven times we take birth,
In this realm - in this Hell.
We must be united & live,
Enjoying the painful life,
And the pleasures alike.
We must remain united,
Stay pleased & happy.

This way we book our places in the Heaven,
We hope to find death in each others' arms only,
Here we find happiness flowing - flowing - flowing,
In the stream through Garden of Eden - Eden - Eden,
Where we also find safe haven - safe haven - safe haven,
(: In that Magnificent and Glorious Gateway of Heaven....... :)

There're no lucky or unlucky,
No benign or cancerous,
Nonsense or sensible,
Bitter or sweet,
Numbers.
But,
Apparently,
There's a strange,
Number in every life,
Insignificant but important,
Like there's number 7 for me.

There's a prime example,
Which reflects the importance,
Of number 7 in my life.

It's the sequence of my rebirth,
In real world after an accident,
On '7th' of May, 2010 which put,
Me to the horror of my family,
Into a comatose state..

Now before you start taking 7,
As an unlucky number for me,
Let me tell you that my story is,
Far from over yet as I am alive,
After surviving the serious injuries,
From the accident that the doctors feared,
And I braved death in the HDU number 7.

Let me continue the story about a guy named Akshant,
Who belonged to Mathura in India, once the city of Krishna.

Akshant rejoined college and scored acceptably well this time,
He had realized his mistakes while he was to stay at home.
Repentance on committing mistakes intentionally was ripe,
He barely controlled the regret from flowing through his eyes.

Anamika was the only friend who was by his side in this time,
Giving him relief from loneliness which rang as the door chime.
Akshant had a poor memory so not much could stay on his mind,
Stressing his memory too much would only make his brain to grind.

Akshant then studied cautiously holding onto Anamika's hand,
Cautious he was not to crush it as he had formerly done to others.
He brightened up his professional life along with the romantic life,
And he scored brilliantly given his mental health was really affected.

The dried clots inside his brain were still an issue two years later,
But he controlled himself to not harm others from his anger.
The clots used to come out through as tears and ear wax,
Almost all was physically well after three more years.

Akshant went Kodaikanal after his bachelor's degree college,
He was an eligible bachelor when he had a job confirmation.
This happened when he was drifting away in the Kodai lake,
Anamika who sat next to him in the boat congratulated him.

Now Anamika confessed her feelings for Akshant in the boat,
Akshant couldn't find any words & found himself quite quiet.
This made Anamika challenge and taunt about his manliness,
Which caused Akshant get enraged & kiss his reply on her lips.

The boat swayed terribly in the star-shaped lake's still waters,
Anamika ogled & felt her hair get wet & this made her ****** Akshant.
She started kissing him back now & her eyes were coming back to normal,
These had been wide ogling when Akshant had started kissing hard and so it was.

Let me tell you a story about a guy named Akshant,
He belonged to Mathura in India, once the city of Krishna.

He was born on 23rd of December in the year 1990,
It was a stormy & rainy night when he was born.
Krishna was born under much similar conditions,
He was taken to safety away from his wretched uncle,
Time is exactly as the glorious & glorified mythology has it.

Akshant spent his early life much like any other kid,
Just the difference was that he was totally alone.
He spent his teenage in similar lonely circumstances,
Akshant searched for love all his teenage but to no avail,
Time gave a lonely -read tough- early lifetime to Akshant this way.

Akshant met a deadly accident on the highway,
And he went into a long & carefree coma.
As Akshant slept he took their breath away,
But they prayed for him to come out of the coma.
Time has its own ways of teaching lessons & for him it chose this way.

Akshant had been wasting his time in the search of love,
Ignoring the words of parents, his studies & friends.
His girlfriend ditched him for a fit & fine guy,
Who could take her out on dates unlike our Akshant.
Time had its own wicked ways of making him pay for the wrongs he did.

Thanks to my parents and good wishes of friends that I am writing this poem 4 years after my major accident which nearly killed me. This poem has no rhyme-scheme because it is more of free verse than a primary school poem. I am nearly fine.

7th May approaches once again,
Another year has passed me by.
It was filled with hostile attitude,
With nothing for offering to me.
Virtuous actions failed to suffice,
Nor did all my humbling words.
7th May approaches once again,
365 more days have passed me by.

That event - I can't call it fortunate or unfortunate,
But it did affect my life knocking me out of senses.
Not for just a day or 2, but 23 days in all that was,
I escaped an end to my life during that long coma.
Red - rosy cheeks & lips of mine now veil all injury,
Just balance & memory problems need to be fixed.

Some misfortune did come my way,
But so did shine my fortune greatly.
And after the accident I have met her,
She made me forget all pain of mine.

Tears which failed to escape my eyes after accident,
You vent them from yours after listening to my story,
But hey, I tell you to look at me for I am alive,
Yes I've cheated dear death once and for you I can cheat her again.

1857 was some years older,
Bhaaratvarsh was still a slave.

No Hïnđū king after Śïvājī had been bolder,
None dared guerrilla attacks from a mountain cave.

No Hïnđū queen after Läkšmībāī was braver,
None consumed the patriotism wine agave.

Mughal or howsoever other tyrannical kings were,
The Colonial Age was worse and it was a blur.

Bhāräŧ knows how to make things better,
And I am sure about this administrator.

Mōđī Jī is as focused as a recluse,
And Yōgī Jī tolerates not a traitor.

Shāh Jī is the best strategist,
And the team is just perfect.

Smřŧï auntie is the best counsellor,
An example she is of the pink power.

Rājnāŧh Jī is the best caretaker,
Wise old man for the nation.

Doctor Härśvärđhän is now elevated,
He heads the World Health Organization.

Coronavirus and its disease, COVID19,
Originated in MainlandChina.

Extinction, it is threatening,
Now we all turn to Hïnđū values.

Sänāŧän Đhärmä is very scientific,
The blind faith belongs to aggressors.

The oldest **** sapiens sapiens,
In Jharkhand state, you will find its remains.

They say that history repeats itself,
Rām Rājyä beckons once again.

Red, dark and light, apples,
They sell it for Rupees 80 a kg,
Available sans the ripples,
But sans bargaining not so easy.

Even the grapes, delicious,
They sell it for Rupees 80 a kg,
Appears to be so luscious,
There're many other fruits here.

I had read #5 Harry Potter & the Order of Phoenix as the first of all the other books in the Harry Potter series.

I am used to reading or watching literary or television series from anywhere and as usual you may call it strange or weird - but hey - that's perfectly me!

I am equally undeterred to read or watch the previous parts even after knowing who gets defeated in what way - not that I extract pleasure out of being so weird, but actually - I do!

^_^

Roar!
The sanctuary roars,
Some of its many beasts seem angry,
They all feel hungry.

Roar!!
The roar is sadder,
Some of the advanced beasts feel sad,
They all miss hunting.

Roar!
The roar is full of sorrow,
Some of its beasts can't contain the sorrow,
They all miss their families.

I'm the bridge connecting them together,
Two different strains of Indian culture,
And I am doing justice to my mother,
As well as I am doing it to my father.
And I am so linking north with south,
Two different styles of parenting couth,
I'm the son of 2 strains of Indian culture.

This is a thought for all the days,
Ponder upon it as the sun stays,
Even if a group of clouds plays...

Darker even than the darkest night,
Thin is the strand holding us tight,
Lighter even than the air so light..

Think of me when you're bothered,
Guess what I must've suggested,
Even as you struggle & get tired.

Think about these golden words,
Those we share & those we don't,
Saying all is something we won't..

Staying happy now in our misery,
When it is to love we're no miserly,
The love potion flows ceaselessly...

A three-year-old boy in Cleveland,
Himself a very young little kid,
Shot a baby dead on Sunday night.

The bullet hit in the face of the baby,
Then it was rushed to a hospital,
But was pronounced brought dead.

Who is to be blamed now?
The kid toying with the gun??
Or the irresponsible parents???

I think it is the society's fault,
Needless are the guns in homes,
Shouldn't the society repair itself?

But are the blames enough now?
Can blaming bring the baby back to life?
No. A big NO!

You can touch your feet if you're an infant,
You may even put your feet into your mouth,
And you will still look so cute.

You try to repeat it after growing up,
Your relatives will take you to the psychiatrist,
And you won't like this ugly twist.

I was surely so cute in my infancy,
During my childhood, I was cute still,
Everyone loved me so much.

What about now?
Now I have grown up.
Senescence took a heavy toll.

I miss my infancy,
I miss my childhood,
I hope to father cuteness.

We both are passengers,
Aboard the Ship of Love.

It helps us pass through,
Both crests and troughs.

The waves are so harsh,
Risk running aground.

So we would just grasp,
Grasp each other's hand.

For dear life we may care,
Could we ever be separated.

Loving you is not a child's play,
Patiently waiting is your lover.

Never doubting our faithfulness,
Kraken of confusion scare us not.

Doubling the sweetness in love,
Expecting dreams to come true.

Zestful we must carry forward,
Years to follow up in our lives.

Keep away only till we meet,
Halting not before marriage.

Under construction this stays,
Healthy bridge is being built.

Xeroxing each strong pillar,
Volunteer for own relation.

Jerking away each problem,
Most of them will be solved.

Opportunity that knocked,
Queenly way we treated it.

Take it,
Or leave it.

It's your choice,
Be wise.

When I was a kid,
We used to play hide 'n seek,
So they were my friends.

When I grew up a bit,
We used to play staring games,
So they were my friends.

They are lost now,
I meet them rarely these days,
So they were my friends.

I am not worried if someday we fight,
Because she loves these cute arguments,
As these always increase our closeness,
We obviously start with contradictions,
But we then end up making happy loving peace.

The absurdity of modern poets.
They don't use the rhyme scale,
But they use many cuss words.
And they think writing suchlike,
They look cooler than their peers.

Everybody knows of Istanbul in Turkey,
This poem will only lay some light on it,
Through the history & mankind's irony.

Istanbul was settled as a Greek colonial city,
'Twas named Byzantium after a Greek king,
And the Old Greek king's name was Byzas.

The Romans under Constantine won over it,
Now it was their turn to rename the city,
After the emperor as Constantinople.

The great Turks captured it in 1453 AD lastly,
The fabulous fortress was renamed yet again,
The present name Istanbul descended in 1923.

To thank each one of you,
Today, I take the opportunity,
By taking names for your support.

For being the source,
First of all, I thank Life,
For the inspiration she was.

She guided me to Hello Poetry,
Introduced me to new friends,
Broke up ultimately however.

Then I thank Timothy Salter,
For his own and his family's,
Articulate poetry helped me.

Madam Hilda writes as amazing,
And as amazing is their daughter,
It is hard to tell if Marian wrote it.

It's helping me learn more,
Respecting it has taught me,
Had to be paid to earn more.

Not forgetting Gitacharya Vedala,
For he elaborates on every detail,
Thereby helping me experiment.

Same is for Pradip Chattopadhyay,
Hinting of Rabindranath Tagore,
He's the poet clad in sombrero.

Their pure physics at soul poetry,
Helped me learn experimenting,
With sheer hollow truthfulness

I then engage in remembering,
Elsa Angelica for inspiring me,
Her own poetry is developing.

She inspired me to improve,
My strengths & weaknesses,
She taught me being lucid.

Then of course I thank Sukeerti,
She taught me being beautiful,
Without being too explaining.

She encouraged my writing,
Always was their as a friend,
Giving me her positive inputs.

Madam Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Squires,
Aptly mature her poetry is always,
Very much to learn always exists.

Her persona is respectable,
Definitely motherly her aura,
Making her a poet so reputable.

Several other poets fascinate me,
Equally instead of less or more,
They all teach me the lessons.

Madam Sally A Bayan is there,
Her sweet mature bits of advice,
Best complemented by her poetry.

Shayana Shrikanthalingam,
Seeing all her polished poetry,
Not such a difficult name for me.

Ever inseparable they are,
Brandon & Earl Jane Nagley,
They are the immortal lovers.

And I recognize the beauty,
An Indian model here on H.P.,
Poetry surely as cute as herself.

She is the most elegant girl,
On Hello Poetry and in reality,
Bhumika Fulwani I refer to here.

Finally, I express my gratitude to her,
In my life she's the ultimate one,
Now I needn't anyone else.

She is my Pooja Shah,
She is exclusively mine,
She is here forever to stay.

May they be positive,
Together we gel so well,
Impossible to separate us now,
Whatever may cometh we are ready,
Budge we won't - err we won't,
This bond is so precious,
May they all accept us.

Because together we are one,
It will take inhuman strength,
To do us apart they will need it,
A stone heart just won't suffice,
It won't douse this flame in us,
It's insufficient to do us apart,
Lava in the veins is required.

For we live the life so like a coin,
Our lives are like two faces of one,
So we aren't worried any longer.

Marriage with the ideal person you love,
Look after two cutest naughty little kids,
Remain happy with the love of your life.

You will be greeted by me always with a conscience full of trust.
There will be me standing at the end of the dark tunnel holding a lantern full of rust.
You won't be disappointed with a meeting full of just lust.

This relation is more of a godly religion to me and as I think of it proudly puffed is my bust.
My devotion to my goddess is such that it will never be betrayed and never leave the must..

So mellow and so soft is our relation beneath its divine and strong crust...