Sushant Singh – Burning Brighter than Bollywood

Sushant Singh: Burning Brighter than Bollywood

By: VM, #wordvm
July 1st, 2020



       #justiceforsushantsinghrajput   #justiceforSSR   #CBIforSSR #CBIenquiryforSSR

 “May lord bring peace to his soul, his loved ones and his wonderful, absolutely wonderful, such loving and passionate fans… Just like him in true image…”


At the onset, I want to say that I resisted from drafting my views. But, there is something tremendously beautiful and abysmally tragic about Sushant Singh Rajput. It compels you to come out and reveal yourself. You don’t know him, but something keeps pushing this energy in your gut; up towards the universe. You are battling, but eventually, you have to reveal your emotions about him. The more I read about him, the more I realize that he had a beautiful mind and was a beautiful human being. He was probably too bright for Bollywood. These may be my personal views over him, but I know that I do resonate with millions today. The fire and shock that rose up on the day of his death, hasn’t settled down in all of us. The fire is persistent, why? Maybe because there is something terrible, something grotesque, some monster lurking in those concrete jungles of Bollywood and the art industry at large. One of the few remaining good men faced it and got sacrificed to altars. Probably, to shake us out of complacence and make us stop to think and act –

“Bollywood is the only industry where they can make anyone a star, or a roadside struggler to become a Hero.”

This is a famous cliché proverb, used in Bollywood time and again. I think this is the root of all problems. When a group of few are peddling this drug of abstract hope and pathways, things are bound to stay centralized in few men. It is an instrument that has a huge potential for systematic exploitation. Too powerful to trust in private hands and hands of few.

Is the path broken, is the system broken or is it purposefully left that way? While the most perplexing professions and most niche fields have a set professional pathway with the onset of the 21st century. Why are some professions such as these, left to the mystical journey of each and to his own?

If the road to el-dorado or the city of gold was discovered at the same time as Bollywood or when Indian music industry took its first flight – Am sure there be more processes, standards, regulations, and purview of transparency guiding an excavator to where the fondest of hearts go lurking for the ultimate. Even if it is madness or maddeningly tough, every madness has a method.
How many Sushant’s have to be ignored, left out, die or go back home broken-hearted, perplexed about themselves, and about their own fate at the sudden death of an otherwise growing career. Since when is hard work and talent not enough in any industry in the world. If an industry keeps proving the same, and few and far, rather once in 30-40 years a commoner rises to fame; it is an indication of the rusted bridges and broken roads that are left as traps and mazes. They must be demolished to make the new ones.
Now, it feels even those few and far ones will be crushed through organized chaos and robust, well-set conspiracy templates. These are some of the questions that will stain our minds for years to come and remain to be solved by many. Those many are yet to start their journey or hit their professional peaks eventually. These questions are inescapable – whether you are an audience, professional, or a collective conscience of the nation as a whole. Keeping silent or acquainting to ignorance is not a great strategy.

This precedence creates the mafia, admitted to by many insiders on media records. Then why is there no suo-motu action by the governments? This laughs us in the face, this salutes and strengthens oligarchy, and this holds the growth of art in a nation and modern world, almost at ransom to the will and fancy of the few powerful men; hiding behind the veil of custodianship. The debate is not whether Sushant had the right amount of emotional quotient or not. It is about how the fingers point to the sufferer of the system and not to the system itself. Till when will we romanticize with the broken pathways to stardom, why is there a need to poeticize the poverty and misery of struggling artists? And the few incompetents, who stand on the other side of the island laughing, while holding the only little boat and ropes for mooring to the destination on that island. Probably, the only mercy falling from their shrewd and silent lips, are to the demise of the generation heartthrobs like – Sushants, Jiahs and Parveens.

Professionally, a person like Sushant Singh Rajput can shake any superstar out complacence. It can happen just by taking a review of his silent and passionate work ethics. His work, his aspirations, his dreams speak volumes about him and explain his multi-dimensional personality. Clear to even those who never followed him or watched his films.

There has to be an undeniable truth about this person, which makes the yearnings for him persistent with all of us.
“The truth can never be insulted or pawned. It can only rebound back to destroy the false narratives.
These false narratives are personified in the form of the sub-standard cliques of men and women at the helm of the situation. Why are we so emotional, what is this agony?
Somewhere the truth rises from within and sticks to the roof of our throats. It needs to come out. It is only appalling of media, why an issue that deserves the best of investigative journalism and reporting, has been reduced to the indifference of men, who are only bothered about TRPs and sensationalism. Respected professions like mass media must never be a slave to money and limelight. It is an integral pillar of the nation. Anyone who chooses to do that is losing an opportunity to carve his name in the immortal wave of national contributions, against petty and short-sighted gains. The media must also take a revolution from within and criticize the rots, rise up into their oaths, and save the day.

I can say this without any doubt, that a person such as Sushant cannot commit suicide. He has too much to chase, too many dreams to fulfill, and too many scenarios in life. He was a man of science. A man of science deals with scenarios and knows that there are many aspects to a problem and many kinds of solutions to a situation. The narrative that he was depressed and suicidal, is too simplistic. Probably, one of the blunt and vain attempts by the mediocre and scheming minds of Bollywood. It reflects in their crude explanations about his death. The Sushant Singh Rajput murder mystery is the biggest case of Bollywood and one of the biggest in the nation in the 21st century. There is something so personal about this case for all of us, that we want the justice and punishment with furious anger.

‘Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere’ ~ Martin Luther King

Some thoughts have come to my mind, which I would l like to share at this forum. It is for all of us to introspect and then decide for ourselves. Deciding for ourselves is even more important than making noise or creating a buzz. So please attend to the below:

‘Our conscience is the highest court of Justice’ ~ MK Gandhi

  • Focus on the movement: Do we want to give a shape to this movement or perish into abstract noises that fade away with time. The reason being that the antagonist is powerful, it will persist. We must understand that this battle will not take months but years. Are we ready?
    The effort and commitment by everyone needs to be persistent towards seeking justice for Sushant Singh Rajput.
  • Implementations-

Are we using too many hashtags, do we need to fix them to a few and spread them across the board towards a focused hammering of sleeping authorities.

Do we want to make noise, or focus on specific truth and trust on loud, repetitive voices over it?

What is our objective: Solving murder mystery of Sushant or ending nepotism in Bollywood or destroying star kids? These three are different – the first one is specific, the other is an issue of society and the third one is a personal attack or a debate of ‘inequity of rich’. We can only solve one at a time and we need to focus and refrain from indulging our fondness to troll or solve bigger issues. I think we should stick to the murder mystery of Sushant. If that is solved, other large and subjective issues will be positively resolved.

What are the facts?: If anyone wants to read facts, is there a single consolidated universal document that someone can read in 10 mins and know everything about Sushant, if not then let us create it.
It must include prima facie of the case and compelling arguments. Or are we relying on the mercy of few platforms on social media, interlocutions, gossips, and media to survive them in refractions of subjective views through a fading prism of time and deliberations? Let us collate it before the wave dies out and the sand is scattered to various dead pockets of the internet.

To whom are we appealing? : We must remember, we are dealing with an organized cartel. The funding, producers, directors, group of actors, powerful families, money cycles, paid glamour and mainstream media, and sections of public enforcement and machinery, including mafia, even doctors and hospitals as alleged by many. It’s a super organic cluster or a super monster that personified in the form of modern networking or nexus of a few fallen beings. One must know, monsters can be of various forms – it is not always made of teeth, horns, groans, and grotesque faces. Sometimes, it is made of smiles, selective and strategic silences, false narratives, and a lot of pretty-looking faces. It is the whole shebang of money, influences, mobsters, and paid media narratives. We must not make the mistake of underestimating the powers of antagonist.

“ never underestimate the evil and greed of other men” ~ Scarface, Al Pacino

Mass platforms: Our sources can only be –social media, Facebook live discussions, personal platforms, robust public appeal systems: Written complaint to PMO, email complaints to official email addresses, twitter hashtags, Facebook hashtags. Just remember, that official complaints, official email complaints, letter complaints are formal processes and they can’t be neglected in a public system. We must squeeze the juice and make use of all such things available to a commoner.

Personal links: Do you really feel for Sushant? Do you know anyone in your family who can help to fight this organized monstrosity in the art and craft industry? Can he or she help you connect with the right people? Do that for divine good.

‘Fame has fifteen minutes of half-life, infamy lasts a little longer’

  • The larger purpose: What will the justice bring? What will the cussing and downfall of the targeted actors bring? Will it bring back Sushant? All these three questions seem important right now, but from the larger purpose, there are many bigger questions to be answered –

If someone bright, popular, prominent can be supposedly murdered followed up with an opaque closure to the current status. What is the value of the life of a common person in India or someone walking on the street next to you? One needs to feel safe on the streets and live with a ‘right to life and security’, a sense that justice will prevail if tomorrow someone rich and powerful commits a crime against anyone, which may even lead to a loss of your life. If this answer is not solved or grieving millions are not satiated, then the issue has eroded the assurances in the innate fundamental right of national citizenry. One accepts the state of being a common person, but needs to be treated equally before the law and has a right to justice. Therefore, in the national interest, in these mentally and physically and psychologically testing coronavirus times, CBI inquiry with an unwavering leader of the case is a must to bring a glass-like transparency.
CBI inquiry is needed, the case does have a resonance and characteristics of national interest and by definition, the people are the nation, both terms mean the same here. Therefore, it is for the people, demanded by the people of the country. If the government keeps ignoring the plea for CBI inquiry, it will only bring more depression into the minds of young and furious masses, already burdened by the abysmal situations, poverty, unemployment and so many things failing in their aspiring life within an aspiring nation. A purpose that feels as common and needful as this, can aid some manner of hope and empowerment into the life of masses. There is no mistake, it is the voice of common faceless masses, who refuse to die or succumb into the silhouette, refusing to muzzle out or die the death of ignorance, Against the man-less inhuman, deaf and deserted corridors of shrewd and powerful lobbies, that represent the worst of capitalism and social inequity, while keeping to their dapper, makeups, diamond smiles and well-made hair.

  • Revolution starts from the mirror: Look into the mirror, tell to yourself if this cannot happen to you, or to anyone you know, or anyone who has hope to be someone in a higher state of citizenship. If yes, then how can one tell the posterity- to follow the path and see an example? Does one see it in distanced or a deserted road stained by the crimes of rich?
    Face yourself, if you do want to change that for posterity, or will you let go of the hands and the innocent hopeful fresh eyes that see horizon farther than you. If you feel like acting towards the cause, you must act rightfully and righteously. For their sake, to whom hope means everything. Hope is the essence of soul and a fundamental reason to live. It is the spiritual driver of all things. At all times, we must have hope to succeed against odds, prevail under most abject circumstances, perseverance is the passionate story that we tell kids when we teach them in schools, coach them in fields, train them to rise up and achieve greatness. For the sake of that hope and to restore it; is of utmost importance. It is a treasure that we cannot afford to deplete.
    As a nation, we can only prevail and rise, with an environment of hope, that any faceless man from the silhouette can rise from nowhere and reach the top based on hard work and the ecosystem that supports it. The great Indian dream.
  • Duty as an audience: Why are we cussing superstars? Their mediocrity? Their star kids? Who has made them gods and heroes? Etc. who has made them the king of modern times? Who went to the cinema halls by keeping the minds and judgments at home? Who gave away generous reviews to a substandard film? Who spends his hard-earned money on something that is not worth watching? Who is no more seeking quality in cinema and compromising? It is WE!
    The problem starts and ends with us. Without an audience, bad artists cannot prevail despite bought our cinema halls and obnoxious and repetitive advertisements. How many people actually followed Sushant when he was alive? How many actually followed his work, supported his films, choose a cinema hall or theatre for his movies than the other junk they plan in most other multiplexes? How many of us were ignorant to him and other brilliant artists and are constantly drooling over the skins of model turned movie stars, ex-porn stars, and two-dimensional actors.

“Do we earn the 150 Rs by leaving the brains at home? Then why to leave it at home when it comes to spending them on movies? “

We need to support right artists, quality actors, great films so that the kids and posterity can grow into better ascending art forms and cinema, and get out of this mediocre staunch of current times; the sub-standard junk that is leading our minds and collective conscience to a trash bin. It exists in media, movies, and television. This trash bin will influence us and our kids to become second grade, side effects like products of western trash cultures and perverted mindsets, dissenting for noise and not the meaning, vocal but not wise, debate loving but short-sighted.
We need to take the arts and crafts industries in the nation to the cleaners. It is an innate instrument of national image, national narrative and it must be nurtured carefully, and most definitely must not be left in the hands of incompetent fools. Its high time government starts seeing arts and crafts and music, as an integral essence of the idea of nation and must regulate, intervene, nurture, and watch it grow in the right ecosystem. All in all, it must come under the sunshine of lights, the light which helps grow all the other national sectors and men and aspirations, in the right and transparent manner.

‘To remove the fungus, just bring it under the sunlight and it will naturally fade away.’~ Mahatma Gandhi’


  • Is the fight against people or a system: Are we really fighting against some producers, actors, directors, or a system that helps them prevail? At the onset, right now we only want to find the granular truths of Sushant Singh Rajput’s murder mystery. However, in a larger purpose, this case will also shed some light on the system of things. Someone may ask, why Bollywood? Why not politics? Why not other sectors? Well, the answer to this is pretty simple – Every crime, every stink, and every evil has a limit and it has some indicators. From time and again, we have been hearing isolated incidents, stories in disarray. This one incident has hurt the sunshine and truth of cinema – a remarkable young actor. The monster was desperate, it was arrogant, it was uncaring, and it got away many times previously. It came out of the shadows where it stays under a veil that convinces most of us that it doesn’t exist. It came out for Sushant and snapped his pious soul. This monster here of course is a metaphor, it can mean the situation, a group of people, organized mafia, or the psychological or mental assaults that no forensics can measure. The whole thing leads to the loss of Sushant Singh Rajput. Whom I will refer to as an element of holy fire. I say holy fire because he forged it out of his – sheer brilliance, creativity, hard work, honesty, long process, and innocence towards the sense of his craft. Just like the Draupadi vastraharan in Mahabharata, it will an inflection point for the arts and crafts industry in modern Indian history. This has to stop and tables need to turn towards the goodness. The kingdom needs to be cleaned and those who side will evil need to be removed. The lord’s kingdom has to come, replenish and invite the peacocks of arts and crafts to re-populate it from scratch. The revolution must begin. I will leave you a poem of mine for your afterthoughts –


The revolution - Poem




Date Night at Perch


The Storyteller : Delhi Date Diaries

 | Title : Date Night at Perch |

|Written By : Krayon  (Alias), #1  | Date Dairy : Khan Market,Delhi |

| Delhi Date Diary : Story #1 |


Statutory Warning :  Only for above 18 individuals, the demand of the genre invokes explicit content, sensually charged language and mildly erotic content  (though nothing graphic is advisable and shall be  most earnestly edited to retain the quality with no excessiveness). Visitor’s discretion is advisable on  – reading, sharing and recommendations. Proceed in agreement and comprehensive understanding of the same. 


Statutory warning : Delhi Date Diaries

Statutory warning : Delhi Date Diaries


Blog Author & Admin



It was a warm Saturday evening, just after the sun had simmered down giving way to the bluish silver twilight. I had out on my best fitting shirt – it was  light blue with  dark blue polka dots and fit my shoulders  really well, making me look broad at the top and a little more leaner than I actually am. Pairing it with khaki pants and my blue Stan Smiths- a pair I have fondly been wearing, almost everywhere since the last 3 years. I put on a strong musky fragrance – it was Pi by Givenchy. It had a very sensual feel to it so much so that it even burnt my skin a bit.

I informed at home that I was going out to meet some friends and I would be dining out – factually correct! except for the fact that I was actually heading out to meet a lady – someone who I had just interacted with on aisle (a dating app).

I stepped into my car and drove as fast as I could to reach her apartment. I fumbled with the map to figure out where she stayed, but at last I reached there. It was a busy place buzzing with people moving about – some returning from their evening walks and others just buying everyday groceries. The place had a very unwelcoming vibe to it, but what the hell! I was looking forward to a date.

My heart was racing, I had brushed my hair like ten times already, and finally I called her after having texted her a few minutes back. She sounded very feminine, had a certain playfulness and warmth in her voice. We made small chat as to where I was parked and how we would go about the evening.I decided on going by cab, as drinking and driving with a total stranger was too risky for our own good!  She took a great deal of time in finally coming out; meanwhile she had called me once to let me in on a safe spot to park ( ( ‘that’s cute’,  I thought). She called me to a side where our cab was waiting and finally I saw her for the first time. My heart skipped a beat and my prose started turning to poetry in those moments. ‘ Gosh! it was worth the wait ‘, I said to myself.

She was wearing a smart black skirt , the length of her knees (not too risque`, but engaging enough to keep me on toes and the glint in my eyes stayed alive.) .It had a red flowery pattern. She had paired this with a slit-sleeve black top and a set of black ,open-toe high heels.  She had painted her lips to the brighter shade of cherry,  sensually contrasted by the dark thick kohl in her eyes and wore her hair open for the sport of it. (they were extremely curly, I liked!). All in all, She was quite fair in appearance , looked gorgeous in any split second glimpse and was wearing a golden nose ring. (So feminine I thought!)  We exchanged glances and smiled at each other, we even shook hands (I think so). Boy did she smell nice! The fragrance she wore reminded me of a rather eventful night at Thailand ,where my college friends and I blew out wads of money on Russian strippers.

I wanted to open the door for her in the cab, but she was quite straight and went in from the other side ( There goes  to drain, the two day rehearsal on the niceties, LOL! 😛 . No No! I am kidding, … or am I? 😀 ) . We finally sat, sinked into back seat. It was a little cramped (thankfully) ,our legs almost touched each others’.  We struggled with the directions to head out to the main highway, turned out she wasn’t well versed with the roads as she didn’t drive and relied mostly on public conveyance. Finally after leading our cabbie to the right route, we broke into our conversation.

Initially it was about me, I answered all her questions – education, work, I covered it all (Like a fresh graduate, LoL! ). Finally I did some probing, found out she’s an Air Force kid, an MBA herself, someone who had sacrificed her education and career for her family more than once. I instantly liked her! (I and liking girls was nothing new, there was a time I could like a girl just crossing the road, but I have aged a bit over the years. Liking women doesn’t come that easy, moreover I don’t see that many women in my life anyways, such are  my stupid boy like troubles) In the midst of this, the cabbie threw in his business idea (Like Mr. great timing, pun intended !) and made some awkward one sided conversation. After trying to be polite, I had to cut him off and started again,climb ing back in my conversations with the pretty lady.

As we reached our destination, I asked the cabbie to stop around the corner at Khan Market. As I opened my wallet and asked the cabbie how much we owed him, she promptly threw in a crisp 500 Rs Bill at him, not giving me a chance to even share the fare. (A lady who insists on paying? – perhaps I have been reading too many memes on 9gag and Instagram).

We stepped out and walked a bit towards Perch. I had never been there (let alone with a lady) , so I propped out my phone and looked the place up on maps. It was barely 150 m away, I led her on and we finally entered the place. Typical staircase entry with yellow ambient lighting and Air conditioning on full blast!

Being the gentleman that I am thought to be, I let her in first. I followed her as she climbed up.   (Great view I thought! And then instantly felt ashamed for having such stupid thoughts) I looked away (What?! … yeah happens to the best of us man!). The first floor had a few tables, families, women with sharp noses and white hair made up most of the crowd. I asked them if they had seating on the upper floor (Which place in Khan Market doesn’t?) and they did (big surprise). Climbed up again (didn’t even glance at the *ahem view). The second floor had boys and girls ogling each other, (and the boys ogling every other lady in the room, like routine stuff). We got a corner seat uncomfortably close to another couple on our side, but they minded their own business as I did mine.

The waiter brought in the menu cards, the wine and coffee line up is to die for (said someone on Zomato). Well ,I wanted wine , I asked her what she wanted and she tossed in a story on how she had come last time with some ‘friends’ and had ordered some wine ( So interesting…yawn,yawn). She was more of a red wine person (In this freaking summer?!) and so a bottle of imported red wine it was.  We ordered some finger food to go with.

Our conversation was like water flowing in a spring. Pure, continuous and rich in content. We had hit it off just like that. Her sparkly eyes, her red lips, even skin tone, that nose ring and those dark curly hair enticed me just like everything too colorful and beautiful in nature does to attract prey.  And boy I was enticed alright.

A few glasses and fun conversation later, our bottle ran dry. We called in for a pitcher of their Sangria (Let it rain). The couple on our side made way for another, a slim lady with a burly man with a thick stubble stepped in. They had little to talk and looked here and there. They eavesdropped on us shamelessly and even looked at us a couple of times ( I couldn’t care less, I was engrossed with my date). We made jokes on the couple right next to us, we even discussed our fantasies and fetishes. While all this was going on, I touched her nose ring and held her hand.

We sat on the table holding hands. (How romantic …. and socially inappropriate). Finally our bladders spoke too (together in sync like literally). We walked to the washroom, I held her hand. They were occupied (As usual), I slid my hand around her waist as we waited for it to get vacant (We found love in a hopeless place, remember Rihanna?).  While latching the loo, I cut my finger at the latch, it was just too sharp. After peeing to my heart’s content, I washed my bloody hands and checked myself in the mirror (I looked a little pink but my hairline was still thin …. The alcohol was not working that well today… but I felt grossly content and confident).

I made my way back to the table and sucked in the remaining bit of sangria from my glass, pouring myself another before she came back (Women need longer…. They touch up their makeup, call friends, and get out their pepper spray?).

Finally she came back; we reached the bottom of that pitcher quite fast and called for the cheque. It was past midnight! And man was I buzzed!!

We fumbled our way down the 2 stories of stairs. Walked around the isolated market (What a buzz kill). I had my hand around her waist the whole time we walked (fumbled) around the market. Her waist felt soft and warm, it was one the nicest things I had held in a while. We had a warm congenial walk in the market (drunk men, drivers, shopkeepers, etc. staring at us) finally we hailed a cab.

The drive was quick; we discussed how fun the evening was (I think), and finally we got out near her house. She tactfully told me stay away from the main gate as the watchman had a roving eye (I was to find out why in the coming weeks). We bid each other a brief goodbye, no hugs, no kisses …. Just sparkly eyes (little bloodshot too) looking at each other. Man I wanted to kiss her so bad! How nice it would be kiss her and feel her lush red lips against mine! I wanted to swerve her to a side and plant a wet deep kiss to her (forgetting about the alcohol and garlic breath).

But it was not meant to be. I saw her off, she walked clumsily through the main gate and then on to her house (wherever it was).

I got in to my car and drove past the gate … leaving some dry leaves flying in a swirl.

With my hands cold, heart warm and head dizzy I reached home. I peeled out my shirt and pants, got in to my red polka dotted boxers and hit the bed. But sleep was not to come by so easy. I thought about how splendid the evening was and how we spent close to six freaking hours together! (I can’t usually stand people that long). Finally sleep hit me; I had  vivid wine fueled dreams and an unfading smile, running with some mild dehydration through me.



Bloggers’ commentary  : The memoir by Krayon (alias, as provide) is a class A narrative. The description of his date  is poetic and his own self-bantering sparkles the humor like cherry on top of a cake. It may inspire many alike to wish for such classy dates in and around Delhi, and maybe pen it down for everybody’s vicarious experiences at-least.

How to write and submit : Send in your ready to publish draft – To : ,  CC :

The write up should not be any more than 1500 words ( exceptions only in rare cases or if the quality and content demands it). Usually, a concise piece can be easily penned down within 1000-1200 words. There is a leeway of 300 words which shall only be used if needed. The only criteria of selection is that the piece should have reading value, devoid of any crass/too explicit narrative and needless to say, class A writing skills.





Starry Starry Sky

starry sky-1


Like a garden of roses,
she blossoms in fancy.
Though silence & solitude,
it wilts her away..

Like angels of hush,
wind sings some metaphors.
Entwining our guts, in impossible to say..

Entangled so I , beneath the open sky.
Untraversed by darkness,
but these starry sights..

I yearn and I sigh.
Beneath starry starry sky.
Entangled yet I , in my metaphors..

I sigh and I try.
Beneath starry starry sky.
I burn till until , like a firefly..


You the sea –
be so vast and so paranoid!
& I tread through these guarding waves,
in moonlight..

Them curse like beamings.
world talk such seemings.
It conjures & consumes me..

Shall we assume & then be doomed.
shall be over our entwinings,
Before eternity and yet so soon…

Conspiring are its waves,
and the silver of moon.

Yet foolish so I,
with my hopes fluttering high.
& the slivers from my sail & the sinking sighs..

Yet untraversed by rage,
but starry sights..

I wither and I wry.
Beneath the starry starry sky.
I most but almost ,
with my anchor stuck at coast.
Now I curse the anvil, with a shallowing deny.


We fold and unfold, in our bubble of gold.
Caressing our fears and our feebleness..
We blossom with despite, in this starry starry night –

In that garden of rose,
I plucked , the purple in prose.
and Entwined our hearts,
in our mortal morose.

I yearn and I sigh,
Beneath starry starry sky.
Entwining our eloquence,
in immortals of metaphors..

I rhyme and I write,
Beneath starry sky tonight.
Untraversed by darkness..
But reaching & raging,
to our brightest starlight..

Vishu Mishra | Zoo-Poems | 16-08-2016

The comedy of egregious errors

Starry Starry Sky