Yeah!
The ****** Good-For-Nothings!
The Undue Weight On Society!
They Are Not Men!
They Don't Deserve To Be Men!
Castrate The ****** Rapists!

Yeah!!
The ****** Good-For-Nothings!!
The Junk Material Of Society!!
They Put Their Hands On Others' Sisters!!
They Need To Be Satisfied Forever!!
So Castrate The ****** Rapists!!

Yeah!!!
The Only Solution That Is!!!
The Permanent Extinguishing Of Their Thirst!!!
They Need Their Hands Cut Off!!!
They Invite The Final Solution!!!
Just Castrate The ****** Rapists!!!

I lay in my bedroom,
Near lifeless I was,
Hardly any movement,
Neither voluntarily,
Nor involuntarily,
To parents' utter disappointment,
And to their sadness.

I had never thought,
Not even dreamed,
Heavy felt every step,
Never so desperately,
Narrower felt each passage,
To my parents' daily observation,
And to their dismay.

But still they were strong,
Harder than diamond,
Impossible to shake their spirits,
Time admitted defeat in the end,
Thanks to their nerving nerves,
I could only muster strength,
And I walked upright again.

Should anyone ask us about our love,
Especially I'll mention how we loved,
Xclusively for one another we used to.

When you were stressed out,
And you needed me to relax,
Should not be forgotten by you.

You did love me,
Or rather than just love,
Up you went on my tender touch,
Rolling over on the first hint.

Love was just a word you used,
Us was just a piece of myth,
So you ever wanted was a tool,
T**ool you wanted but not Atul.

Land of the mummies,
Not at all the mothers,
The fabled dead people,
Draped in crepe bandages,
Appearing creepy to kids,
Ranging from Aegyptus,
To high above the Andes.

There are few bottlebrush trees here,
A couple grew in front of our house,
The entrance to our house they guard.

When it is season for them,
They bloom very lavishly,
Even striking is one's stem.

It was pecked upon by a woodpecker,
Thak-Thak-Thak, Thak-Thak-Thak,
The stem's bark finally gave away slowly.

By the end of October '06,
The hollow was readied,
The woodpecker moved in.

It gave shelter to the two birds initially,
The male & the female woodpeckers,
They stayed there for a complete season.

Saw their family grow,
From just the parents,
It even had chicks now.

The chicks grew fast under parental care,
I even listened to their infant chirping,
Saw the parents flying to get forage not so rare.

Then one day a snake slithered,
Until that hollow, it climbed,
The woodpeckers made a lot of noise.

They both screeched repeatedly,
But their cries were useless,
They could not scare away the snake.

The serpent then came out after few hours,
Now the crawling was sluggishly lazy,
Its mouth smeared with gooey young feathers.

The family had been destroyed,
An eerie silence shrouded the hollow,
The woodpecker chicks were dead.

Soon, an eagle had hunted the snake,
Hovering in the sky it spotted it,
Grabbed it when in the sunlight it basked.

Now the woodpeckers were gone,
Probably in search of a new tree,
A new tree where a snake won't come.

As for the tree's hollow,
It made a new home,
For a parrot species this time.

And time knows that change will descend,
Even the parrots will desert the hollow,
They will leave in search of the better greens.

Maybe a family of owls will come in the end,
It will be a long-time home, the hollow,
For owls are known to fill all the vacancies.

I shall talk a bit about Pressure,
It's about how it you can measure,
Learn physics well & earn a treasure.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
This Poem I Write For You,
I Hope You Recognize The Angle.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Your Smile Revealed Them,
I Hope To Witness Them For Real.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Those Were Diamonds I Saw,
I Hope That I Own Them All In A Deal.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Shiny Teeth In A Still I Observed,
I Hope To Be So Lucky To Meet An Archangel.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Buying That Smile Is Not My Wish,
I Hope You Trade Your Smile For My Words & My Heart.

The violet boat at the Karan Taal,
The indigo one,
The blue one,
The green one,
The yellow one,
The orange one,
The red one too,
And their pedals,
Wait for you,
And I crave for you,
I crave for you.

Born a single kid,
Living a single man,
Will die alone.

As a student you hold a pen,
Just so very often.
Hold it carefully and take its care,
For it can get broken.
Threading all the letters beautifully,
Cursive you write so neat.

We complement each other,
That too so well.
You need polishing just a bit more,
I need a lot of it.
Earlier my handwriting used to be worse,
But now it has improved as you have come.

Come and write your name,
Not on paper but on my arm.
Come now and come closer to me,
This feels like a dream materialized.
Now that Both have chosen The Best,
I am just glad that we chose each other.

I look at your handwriting,
It means the world to me dear.
When your heart is so beautiful,
Your handwriting is also gorgeous.
Yeah you saw my handwriting,
It is not like your elegant one.
So I am content that our children'll have beautiful handwritings.

Your handwriting tells me that you're innocent,
It also showcases a beautiful heart which I love.
Capitalize on your boon of good handwriting,
Success beckons you and now you just need to study sincerely.

Midriff burning sensation,
Exactly as if it will explode,
Nocturnal timings help,
Stark daylight is undesirable,
Troublesome five days,
Ripe burning inside the temple of life,
Under the wicked sky,
Awry is the cup for collection,
Lopsided is its construction.

Cusping the proof of life,
Unfailing burning sensation,
Pouting by the end of a month.

Whether it's her pose of Attention!
Or it is the pretty pose of her smiling,
Relaxed and casual and friendly informal,
I'm to see her polite face in each of the photos,
Innocence radiating from her young face,
She is an innocent Aphrodite smiling,
Waiting for her devotee patiently!

We used to play in that playground,
It was full of uniform levelled green grass.

Here heartily played Abhishek's greyhound,
Running excitedly all over game's green mass.

We used to play cricket in the ground,
It was a temporary zone of football grass.

Here all games were near Atul's house unbound,
Free from all school-work it was enjoyable as deep bass.

But today our generation is busy in our lives making careers,
The next generation is too young yet to make full use of the lawns.

Reduced in size which used to be our hugest amphitheatre of sweetness,
Has now got grass growing untamed covering The Playground Of Wilderness.

Dreams should be sweet & serene,
But our dreams are not so clean,
She dreams Incubus assaulting her,
I get the Succubus assaulting me,
Her Incubus has my face & voice,
And my Succubus has her face & voice,
Both of us have been in this soup.

Oh glistening pink!
Strawberry shade,
Nail-paint color,
Candy color
Why don't I fancy you now,
When did I become averse to you?

Oh starkest pink!
Childhood color,
Girls' favorite,
Cloth color,
Why I liked you back then,
When did you become so disliked?

The relationship I was in,
I thought had reached it,
The point of no return,
And that nothing can break it,
The dream was seen in the stupor of love,
With open eyes, I failed once again,
But the world feels the same,
Oblivious to that internal pain.

Now it's that point again,
Impossible to revert back,
The only difference is her,
She is no longer 'round here,
For she belonged not to me,
She was a birdie that flew free,
I am again on a hunting spree,
I look for my imaginary ideal match,
Someone that's not an easy catch.

Whom do I tell,
What do I tell...
Whom do I tell,
What do I tell?

The Predators,
Ravished Me...
They did not consider me a human,
They did not,
They did not!

As is the story
You know it...
But have you been affected at all,
Affected at all,
Affected at all?

Whom do I tell,
What do I tell...
Whom do I tell,
What do I tell?

Today the entire nation of India is just asking for the same thing, as they put forward the issue of the girl - death for those Predators!

I am me,
And she's my role,
So she's as excellent as me myself,
But she's beautiful,
I am not.


Her poses possess a demeanour,
And she says a lot,
Silently,
But I listen to it all,
She just wonders how do I know.


She is now my bestest friend ever,
And of course the most gorgeous,
Can not be any easier to conclude,
Because she is simply a class apart,
She is a real motivator & practical.

Honesty In Her Voice
Can't Be Compared
With All Of The
Deceit In Their Eyes

This is my first one for you,
Yes, the first among uncountable to come.
You should be ready, yes you,
Your life will change with my romance.
I am ready for you, yes, me too,
My life is scented by your unparalleled youth.
Let us make life happen - me and you!

I don't just want to live with you,
Yes, only when I'm with you, I want death to come.
You might get scared, but you shouldn't be,
Your apprehensions are resolvable with patience.
I know you are ready for me, yes, you are too,
My life is scented for you by my own set of experiences.
Let yourself fall in love with me - I'll catch you!

I shall come to your land and take your hand,
Yes, I shall propose you and your family, just let me come.
You be patient too, just like me, yes, you should be,
Your three spatial dimensions will expand and evolve.
I am a magician of the written word, yes, you know,
My life is scented by my own words that I now write to you.
Let me and my words seep deep into your sweetest heart!

Squash uses a racquet,
Tennis implies a racquet,
Badminton applies a racquet.
Together the racquets' racket is too noisy.
But it's funny how we all seem to like it.
Some cannot even live without the din.
But how good or bad is to bet about it.

If it ceases raining then all will be barren.

Lonelier ever will these farms be,
Oneness never occuring again,
Voracious dry winds will blow,
Even ******* up moisture in air.

Yesterday was so beautiful together,
Oh can't we grow old holding hands,
Understanding love is difficult from far.

Should we not persevere that bit,
Or should this Atul wander lonely?

May you surely meet solace in success,
Understanding your ambition better,
Certainly I'll be standing with you,
H**igher & farther should you aim.

All such stuff is only a myth, right?
Why else would women be forsaken?
Is having periods a grave sin, really?

Their God is just a fantasy, right?
Why else will God forsake Its kids?
The real God is sleeping, isn't It??

God could be a female too, right?
Why assign a gender to God then?
Is God so weak, kidding right???

You had ditched me,
Not out of love for someone else,
But due to boredom.

Not due to my nature,
You're bored of my faithfulness,
Just due to your vice.

Your cutest appearance,
Your sweet mellow voice,
Your very sensible choice,
Your lucky for me presence,
Your cheery nature of rejoice,
Not even just
Your rhythmic nature of dance,
It's inexplicable why I love you,
Probably it's even unnecessary,
But yes I do proclaim that I love,
*You, yes I love you and only you.

Because the government announces only some money as a compensation.
Because the press makes much hue and cry for some days only as a story.
Because the civilians can only shed a few tears before finally moving over.

Because I don't want my mother to cry over my mutilated corpse one day.
Because I don't even want my father to stand numbed over my dead body.
Because I don't ever want an angel - my angel to cry over my lifeless body.

Because I don't want to come back mangled remains & cause them winch.
Because I don't want to come back ever with a conscience guilty of killing.
Because I don't want to come back hands filled of instrumental blood ever.

Not at all like that because I fear the bullets searing my soldier's body in life.
Not at all like that because I fear bombs blasting up my body organs away.
Not at all like that because I fear ******* enemies ambushing me from rear.

Not at all like that because I have a soft heart or that I can't shoot my target.
Not at all like that because I have a sympathetic stand towards the enemies.
Not at all like that because I have a low level of love for our national virtues.

Not at all like that because I don't want my friends to ever lament upon me.
Not at all like that because I don't want my future children to get to know it.
Not at all like that because I don't want my fresh hobbies stay unrecognized.

Not to mention how all of the civilians and the press make much hue & cry.
Not to mention how all the topics they choose are only useless T.R.P.-based.
Not to mention how all of the time the soldiers spend under such conditions.

Those video chats
That lone meeting
I can forget you not
I can forget nothing
Though I am very forgetful
That I may forget to breathe
But I can not simply forget you

Those youthful eyes
The way you told lies
I can get over them not
I can not get over them
Though I have a great amnesia
That I suffer so much 'cause of
But I just can't get you out of my head

Those gorgeous curves
That near-perfect height
I can't just un-remember it
I can not ever forget you right
Though you did break me as often
That I fail to trust anyone else now
But I still have an immortal hope left for you

The driver did not stop,
He did not fear any cop,
Human heads he was to chop.

Made a red purée of humans,
He read Satanic Verses,
It's a religion of peace.

After dusk day by day,
My memory gets better,
But my mood gets worse.

Yesterday was always a sorry day,
Many lessons,
All pointing out at just one thing.

Yes, I must stay alone,
My armada is just one ship strong,
No siblings of my own.

I remember a short golden period,
In the past,
Now it seems crimson within me.

Pitifully, I ask myself,
What to do with a material fortune,
I've none to share it with.

After sun sets in the west,
I control my eye,
Lest any drop escapes it.

Because I know,
Yes I do know that,
Things will get better,
Darkness will go again,
The sun would come out,
Time it might take to shine,
My hair would gray by then.

This poem is a toast to our love, to pure love.
Let peace, purity & contentment prevail
everywhere evenly dispelling hatred.

There's a hint of you,
In everything I do...!
There's a hint of you,
In everything I do...!

Whether it's writing poems,
Whether it's riding horses,
Whether it's reading books,
Or it's roaming nooks...

There's a hint of you,
In everything I do...!
There's a hint of you,
In everything I do...!

Whether it's blooming flowers,
Whether it's raining droplets,
Whether it's crooning lullabies,
Or it's draining tensions...

There's a hint of you,
In everything I do...!
There's a hint of you,
In everything I do...!

There's a lot,
Passing between,
You and me,
Suddenly.
There's a lot,
Passing between,
You and me,
Suddenly.

Though we are separate now,
On different lands...
But we have walked along,
Holding hands...

There's a lot,
Passing between,
You and me,
Suddenly...

Though we are distant now,
So far away...
But we have moved along,
Hips in sway...

There's a lot,
Passing between,
You and me,
Suddenly...

There's a lot more to life,
A lot more than just love.

Look there - my beauty sleeps!
Oh my dear pal Time steer,
Why do you overwork?

Take some rest, over here,
Let her rest & rejuvenate,
Allow her to sleep till dark.

Come, pal Time, let us bargain,
And you settle for a slower pace,
She's tired, my baby, let her sleep.

xxxxxxx
Lonely I am not anymore,
Obvious was the need of a companion,
Tears used to roll down as if I chop an onion,
Unending is the happiness in this poem,
Sadness, I have forgotten you.

I now manufacture more happiness,
Shying away from smiling is nonsense.

Thoughts of mine finally orient east,
Heavy thoughts morph into light ones,
Estuary of sadness into a sea of gladness.

Becoming one with her, I am,
Expanse of the rising sun beckons me,
Sit we shall with one another,
Thickets of Selection Grass await her.
xxxxxxx

Love can make us fly,
Love can take us high.
Love can't make us lie,
Love can give us wings.
Love could make us try,
Love wouldn't let us die.

Love isn't that instant noodles,
Love isn't ready-made clothes,
Love is a pure example of art,
Love made quickly isn't pure,
Love aims for the perfection,
Yes, love demands patience.

The king had a terrific ***,
The *** ran a race & won it!

The media glorified it and put,
'The King's *** Won The Race!'

The king felt embarrassed,
He gave his *** to the queen.

The media again hyped it and put,
'A Royal Exchange: The Queen Has The Best *** In The Kingdom!'

The royal family felt frustrated & flustered,
They decided to do away with the *** now.

The Queen's ***, which earlier was the King's *** was abandoned in the forest,
The royalty felt at ease now.

But the media hyped it too!
*THE ROYAL *** GOES WILD!!!

So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job.
It feels like he has only known his rickshaw.
The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems.
He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride.
Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers.
None remembers or even cares to know his name.
He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife.

He told me a Punjabi tale of partition...

"We were really happy when it happened,
I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife,
But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan,
Just so much wicked was this demand of his,
Punjab was alight due to some people's doing,
We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar,
In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes,
My beautiful wife was still so young at that time,
She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed,
In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body,
After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."

His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped,
Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi,
"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her,
Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling,
Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab?
What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow?
I have known all & none advocates ****,
To which parents could they born?
Must be the devil & the witch."

By now his nose was red and his sobs audible.
He said, "She was not just *****, she was also killed,"
The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said,
"Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife,
She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra,
Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse,
Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?"

==============

She is from Amritsar,
Home to the Golden Temple,
And a historically important city.

He is from Karnal,
Home for some research,
And Indian Milk Revolution..

She is still innocent,
Drawn to his charming self,
And that too quite righteously...

He is experienced,
Drawn to her innocence,
And is always there for her....

She is very receptive,
Often listens to his advice,
And much to her advantage.....

He is most supportive,
Showing her lighted path,
And so for her is all of him......

Both replace all pairs,
Many poets know of them,
And Mystery-Atul just rejoice.......

It is not as ugly,
Even not as scary.
But tell me - won't you,
Who like to go to big hospitals of the nation?

It's not just about me,
It's entirely about me.

AKS's Collection it is,
Atul Kaushal Sharma's Collection.

Nobody knew it is so,
And nobody could ever even tell.

Not a secret anymore,
To the world, it's an open invitation.

The secret to her happiness is love.
No, you are thinking wrong.
I am not her lover.
Not anymore.
Her love is objective.
It is ever-changing and variable.
She has loved many things.
Parents. Cousins. Friends. Siblings.
Boyfriends. Even girlfriends.
She is bi-curious if not bisexual.

In the morning sun had risen in the east,
It doesn't usually yawn...

And in the evening the sun which had shone brightly during the day,
Had started to set in the west..

The days couldn't have been better,
If these are not the best then none can be.

How do I spend this little money,
For I feel shy while spending it...

If I had more than few pennies,
Then I would buy you bunnies..

I would have liked that more,
If I brought you few more pennies.

Shy, I am just so very shy,
Your eyes have been so sly..

You tried some previously in the hotel,
With guys from Surat & Rohtak...

But all I have in the night now is my *****,
How about making away with mine!?

You're experienced already as you've said,
Now should you not give a try to mine!?

Heavy drops of tears,
Now crawl sidewards,
Towards her ailing ears,
Descending downwards,
As that ailing elderly mother,
Tries her very best to sleep,
Contained the tears she tries to keep,
To prevent those tears from leaking,
Remembering who they were,
Her own children them both,
Sent away to war in a land very far,
Two coffins with no more than a humble note of regret & praise for the two dead soldiers had come back.

The father had fainted after listening to this news,
After few months spent wasted in tears,
Truer could not have been his fears,
He could neither let the pain ease,
Nor could he make the repentance cease,
Of letting both the brothers follow their hearts,
He tried to make any sense if there was in war,
And pondering only over the same he died,
A repentant father he wrongly blamed himself,
But the boys' mother lives on with the memories,
Alone and lonely in her lonesome life,
Her senile smile sits under her now-crooked nose,
As she looks at old family albums through her glasses,
Tears drip down her aging lonely chin onto the happy family photograph.

Φ
In vivo, that matrix was the starting inverted commas,
Parents, the initial alphabets of my life,
I, the comma,
Accident, the emm dash,
My wife will be the penultimate phrase,
Children, the expected completing phrase,
Grandchildren, the probable full stop,
And Death will be the ending inverted commas.

These poems I write for you,
Might just be words for the rest,
But I know what these are for you.

These poems I write for you,
Might well be my heart's crest,
Waves they send of love for you..

These poems I write for you,
Will always stand time's test,
But... These are only for you...

His face looked serendipitous,
His voice felt just overexcited,
This was when he looked to strike,
Strike a conversation with a girl,
He surely had lost all commonsense,
He was just so desperate to woo her,
The young man exclaimed, *"Oi girl! Starfish is not a fish!"

Yes 'The She' Sat Next To Me,
On The Fainting Couch And,
She Looked At Me,
With Her Black Diamond Eyes.

Yes 'The She' Spoke Some Words To Me,
On That Sunday About The Festival Of Lights,
She Looked So Pretty,
With Her Ruby Colored Lips.

I Don't Remember The Words That 'The She' Said To Me,
But I Remember How Beautifully She Did So,
She Looked So Happy,
With Her Picturesque Smile.

Galloping through the apparently calm meadows,
My springbok hoofs were touching the grass softly.

How I rejoice hopping in the air above the cool moisty grass,
Hopping feels so ecstatic after a cool shower on the rainy season.

Maybe it's in the rain now that I feel so addicted to, but then I stop,
And probably it's the Anaconda's coil that siphons up on me now.