Whose wine is it, anyway?

“There are plenty of fish in the sea” said God rather vaguely as we sat on the upper deck of a medium sized fishing boat. I scanned the horizon. It was nearly half past five. The sun had turned golden yellow with a dash of red.  “He is easily embarrassed” said God pointing at the sun.  Hearing his name called out, the Sun quickly hid behind a cloud. “He is rather sensitive and doesn’t like being talked about” said I.  We watched the Sun take a dive into the sea, clearly self conscious that he was the subject of conversation. The orange hues of his evening robe continued to flap over the horizon. Soon even the last bit of orange garment was out of sight. The sky turned dull grey and eventually faded into jet black.  “We were talking about fish” said I hoping to steer the topic into seas I was interested in. God, readily played into my hands. “Oh yes, plenty! I wouldn’t be worried if I were you”.  “It’s a myth” I said slowly,  “What is?” “This plenty of fi...

I have come down with a case of lice. They are all over my head. Unfortunately they aren’t gnawing at my scalp like they usually do, they are inside my head this time, nibbling on my brain. They are everywhere especially around the amygdala.  I’ve tried all methods to get rid of them. Apparently you can’t drink Mediker. Also that doubled toothed/edged lice combat sphere of some sort can’t comb cerebral creases. That’s only for the hair. Ugh  I’ve tried banging my head against the wall but that just slows them down a bit. It doesn’t exterminate them.  I’ve tried drowning my thoughts in intoxicating substances. They pass out briefly! That gives me temporary relief. But once the lice are up and about, they attack me with renewed vigour. Some lice don’t even get drunk. They just get buzzed and then they become honest. That makes things worst. Clearly, alcohol is not a solution here.  I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t sit still for five minutes. They are taking digs at ...

It’s dark in here. The walls are damp and there’s a strange smell that emanates from everywhere. It makes me nauseous. On moonlit nights, sliver streams break through the darkness. When this happens, I look around my dungeon and see a half eaten plate of food in a corner and tiny tumbler that’s almost always empty. There should be water in there. But there isn’t. My mouth is dry and my insides squirm. I am tired, thirsty, exhausted and defeated.  I throw open the windows to let in some fresh air. The air that comes in just stagnates somehow. When I look out of the window, I see life outside. I crave it so desperately. I don’t like being locked in here. I don’t like the loneliness. I don’t like the neglect.  The place where I am holed up is not a great height from the ground. I can jump out and free myself from here but I’m so accustomed to the darkness. Too much light frightens me. I have grown comfortable eating the crumbs you throw at me. I savour them.  You pass by eve...

There was a circuitous girl who had little grace, But she was demure with a pretty face. She had never ever been asked to prom, So she binge watched sappy romocoms. One day, a good Knight, asked her for a dance, She leaped up and grabbed the wonderful chance, She agreed to go with him for a New Years ball, But it escaped her mind that she can’t dance at all. The good knight placed his hand on her waist, and drew her close as they lissomely paced. He suddenly turned her like a spinning top, Once twirled, she just wouldn’t stop! Off she spun, like a merry-go-round, Upsetting dancers all around. Windswept like a tornado— menacing, Her turns were faster than cars in Grand Prix racing. The good knight, confused and unsure what to do, Went and helped himself to a piece of chicken or two While she tossed into a mighty spin, He went over to the bar and drank all the gin. Towards the buffet table, she turned course, Where he sat explaining centrifugal force. She cra...

I was placed behind a glass case,  with utmost gastronomical grace.  I was dressed to lure and entice!  Adorned with a crown of mango slice.  I was well layered and decorated,  He asked for me and for him I was plated.  He looked at me with hungry eyes And let out many passionate sighs.  Lyrical sonnets his stomach sang  multiplied by his hunger pangs.  He observed my crust, inspected my base said wonderful things about my face.  He sent his compliments to the cooks,  praised my appearance and my looks.  Hs said that I'd be delightful to taste  but then, he did what most do in haste.  He let his hunger be satiated by  a half eaten, piece of Apple pie.  That pie wasn't his to eat,  That pie was someone else's treat.  That outrageously stupid Apple pie, thought she was the Apple of his eye.  She knew she was not his to eat, but she was thrilled by the all the deceit.  And he ate her up sham...

Dear Sir This is with reference to yesterday’s incident. The incident involving the crashing tube-light, the throwing of a slipper and the broom that sheds more hair than me (after my bi-weekly hair wash routine). Firstly please accept my apologies. Yesterday’s incident was unfortunate and in my opinion uncalled for. The throwing of the slipper, especially, was a tad too dramatic if you ask me . As you are aware, or may have gathered from yesterday’s meeting, I have the tendency to shrink back in horror every time I see you. Please do not take it personally, it has more to do with my inability to cope with my bodily spasms. These spasms or frantic sudden movements are triggered every time I see anything remotely close to a reptile. This handicap drives me into a screaming fit and I, in the past, have broken cutlery. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you hide behind the tube-light every time you see me. Clearly, we do not like the sight of each other. Seeing you makes my hair stand o...

I am seated atop a salon chair, Come hither merciless thread, And rip out my upper lip hair, Until my skin turns crimson red. Pluck it all out, From the corners of my mouth, To the point below my nose, While I hold a sturdy pose, Or display a duck-faced pout. Pluck it out from below my chin, pierce all areas of my skin, Shape my eyebrows; overgrown, show the world, parts of my face they've never known.  Be a good thread and shred,  All unruly growth off my face,  Before it grows and spreads all over the place.