The House of the King

There is a House In Andheri West

They call it Twelve-O-One

Its mad when you dare to go in there

And you have a whole lotta fun

The king dopes out and makes chicken

Minister Panchu gets stoned

And I, General K, am drowned in a laugh

As if tickled by a fluff

Its future now and nobody lives

A soul roams all alone

The hand and the skull are still there

Remains of days by-gone

End of the Glory Chapter

I am no great poet who can weave his feelings into a stitchwork full of life with a pen and the modern form of papyrus. All I can manage to express at this point is that I am dying this day when I leave this world in Mumbai.

I will be born again tomorrow when I wake up in Calcutta. But that would be a re-incarnation.Throughout my entire next life, I will have hazy dreams about several images of this life. They wont haunt me but it would be an eerie, awkward feeling that I would have inside me when I will think of the Mumbai life that I had.I realize this day that I was in trance for the last three years. In a state of coma, numb about the bigger world around me.

Tomorrow I will be born again but somewhere in me, a mark will remain of the dream life I enjoyed. It really feels awkward now.