“I am pure blue-blood”, said he, “as pure as it can get.” of the tall, fair, handsome varieties. Twice over I despised him but managed but a smile, as he deviously managed to convey his derision for us darker-skinned commoners.
Then out of the blue, and I thanked my father, remembering his wisdom, ‘No education is ever wasted’. The first, and perhaps the last time I agreed with him.
I recollected my lessons in Arachnology and Teuthology. Heaven only knew what I’d been thinking then. Heaven must have known!
“You certainly are royal!” I replied with enthusiasm, which he received with no enthusiasm.
“And what do you mean by agreeing like that?”
“Never again”, I thought.
“Did you know, Oh blue blooded royalist… That octopuses and slimy squids and lobsters and some spiders as well as the horse-shoe crab are all blue blooded?”
This upset him terribly and turning around sideways he crawled towards the door and scuttled away.
Saurin Desai’s first love led to a roaring affair that's ongoing now since nearly 30 years. At the innocent age of 8 he met a comic book that whacked him on the head (pun intended) and he fell heels-over-head, literally (pun not intended). But being commitment-phobic, he had a couple of dalliances: with engineering, jobs & businesses, before succumbing to the seduction of the writer's life and giving up everything to become lazier than he ever was. Through all of this he continued to rendezvous with poetry. And after one very, very, long pregnant pause, the poems that had owned him all these years recently agreed to stop possessing him and start haunting the world. And, here we are..."Solitude and Other Obsessions"
Whispered names falling simply off lips, Freckles that ripple on skin, Azure eyes that flooded dreams. Eyes may capsize stable thoughts, Blindly wade into unknown waters, Not knowing awaiting dangers. A siren’s melody put in a trance, A map to
When the bloodshed starts at the doorstep of solemn silence, give me a lone engagement with the invisible to unchain the split heart. I will take away the pain from home and come back in failing light when a star
Meaninglessly traversing into the havoc of vanity With a fake logic justified, Leaving the players into the deathly chasm. A Blue bottle game denying the soul of life! Two and two they say ten, And it is their game playing