Walking...walking..walking , I still myself at a bend in this state.And Every Damn time !A bend which expulges perhaps a source or perhaps an absurd end.

This body , someday , will come to sand.Dunes by dunes some karma would grow like fungus and some would just dissipate.That askance from self to self of the Do-I-look-like-I-care look , I cannot forgo.How many feet and hands and ears and faces and asses care anyway?

Huh !!!

If atleast we humans could Fossilize , we could remain at the same place until discovered by some snoopy anthropologist at some vague try to hybridize our origins and create some whole new formula of man and mankind and all that evolution.

Not to digress , our subject remains this body , it's blood and it's bones , it's semen and it's meat - it's chassis as a whole.Granularly ,it's end.

I remember how Mr. X walked that galaxy in that stunning attire , o yes , his wife stood by him.I also remember how Mrs. Y jazzed that floor and got herself a visa for f**k-all-land.It isn't so arduous to remember that toady slut scoring 1 on 5 , 1 of course being the best ,w ith that tongue sticking out liek a tampoon.

For the Himachali Camaraderie !!

Miss that Fog upon your shoulders
like tresses unbridled
running down to skin
like a heart stirring
woman at her best.
Ah you !

Miss that sun of winters
that you and me share
through those pine needles
sifted ,puerile
lil' mustard and lil sesamum.

Miss your unwinding curves
those pools of lecherous couples
scattered all over you
and your embrace so kind
those kohl drugged eyes walking all over you
all happy
seeking
loving
hurried
smoky
yet peaceful and clear unto you.

Miss those homogenes blithering
the love for you and your people
those Kiwis near the lift and
coconuts
as the seasons tresspass
and fail to , too.

Miss everything about you my land.
Whoever said " There's no place like home"
must have had no nonsense ravings
Where would I find another Shimla ?