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 |

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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. 

Regards,

Statutory warning : Delhi Date Diaries

Statutory warning : Delhi Date Diaries

VM

Blog Author & Admin

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(Begin)

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.

(end)

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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 : theoutofbusiness@gmail.com ,  CC : vishumishraa@gmail.com.

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.

 

Regards,

VM

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E-book release, titled – ‘Beauty, Youth and A Beautiful Mind: An insight into the urban blights of our age.’

Letter of Invitation

Dear bloggers,

This invitation is for all avid readers, through social forums & your better words. So first & fore-mostly, i request you to share this post with others.

Though some of you may not read voraciously, but it may still serve you well in this passing season. Contemplation with this book, shall acquaint you better with the resolution zeitgeist in New Year.

The topic squarely discusses the gaps & stresses in urban milieu, in-dept & variously. The book is well suited for readers on – social essays, urban dystopia & non-fiction narratives (in genre- body, mind & spirit).

It is available at Various Amazon e-book stores including India, U.S.A, U.K. , France , Germany, Japan etc.

E-Book Store - Amazon INDIA

E-Book Store – Amazon INDIA

E-Book Store - Amazon U.S.A.

E-Book Store – Amazon U.S.A.

The e-book is available with  pre-order on amazon kindle.

The book is designed with simplicity & logical illustrations. It engages conspicuous observations from urban lifestyles. The price is nominated at minimum to engage maximum readers.The aim is to enhance mutual social vision with cogent arguments, which may provide a new fillip to necessary but niche debates.

All said, It will be released on 10th Jan,2016. Looking forward to your best engagement & review of my short publish.

Book details -Beauty, Youth & A beautiful Mind

Book details -Beauty, Youth & A beautiful Mind

Herewith, attaching –Book Cover, illustration, Print details, synopsis and Book At-glance (snippets) from the e-book hitherto due for release as dated. (available with pre-order ).

Book At-glance (Free PDF File) – Book At -glance – Beauty, Youth & A Beautiful Mind

Please do acknowledge & share it around with people.

Thanks & Regards

Sincerely,

Vishu Mishra

P.s. – 

Print Information

Format : Kindle Edition
Print Length : 53 pages.
Release date : 10th Jan, 2016
Language : English
ASIN : B019RYLRCE
Genre:- 1. Primary (Non-fiction): Body,Mind & Spirit.
                  2. Sub Genre : Social Essay.

You may also avail the below link to download for all the above mentioned attachments.

https://goo.gl/3Dt1Xz – Download  Here. Google short Link 

Here are the other pertinent google links to this E-book.You can pre-order from here. Click on the short-links underscored as below  –

  • Amazon.jp, Japan users can refer the amazon website with book details or author name : amazon.co.jp
An e-book on urban blights of our age.

An e-book on urban blights of our age.

Vishu Mishra
Book Author.

Other Links

Blog’s Facebook  Page : https://www.facebook.com/captnjacksparw/

Blog’s Twitter Handle : https://twitter.com/theoutofbusines

My Twitter Handle  : https://twitter.com/vishu_mishra

Instagram Avatar : vishu.mishra

Other Social Links : https://theoutofbusiness.com/my-social-links/

P.P.S. –

Book Cover - Beauty, Youth & A Beautiful Mind

Book Cover – Beauty, Youth & A Beautiful Mind

Book Synopsis (Text ) – 

*Begin*

The world is getting stacked into urban set-ups. The revel of this human pinnacle comes along with some grave ignorance. Boons of technology have taken an untoward hack into our modern lives. Over- digitization of human activities, affects our natural inclinations & organic behaviors. The urban order suffers with challenges of natural & un-natural pollutants.

This book discusses such gaps & stresses of mega-cities, which have taken away our gifts of – beauty, youth & a beautiful mind. It is an insightful discussion on the growing urban blights of 21st century.

These issues range in – popular, sophisticated & niche problems of new societal order.  They are currently too advanced for entailment as a parliamentary debate or to be incorporated into world public policies. However, time is ripe to throw light on them with an astute reformist action.

There are undue stresses & gaps in our lifestyles, which need to be addressed sincerely. The overview of these changes within past few decades, can define our understanding of urban utopia. Evils of – digital news, virals-&-trends, commercial biases, must be tendered for sustenance of timeless human values. The book heeds & encourages this debate, to ensure an amicable human environment for our transient & future generations.

It is time to take expedient actions & avert this un-seen invasion. It is time to think, debate & act before our world gets digitally colonized.

*End of covering Letter*

Thank you for your time & perusal.

-&-Greetings for the day.

***

                                 

 

Ebook illustration - The Sketch of Urban Mesh

E-book illustration – The Sketch of Urban Mesh

 

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A Warm Welcome

A Warm Welcome - humor story

The Story-teller : ” Humor me..”

 

‘aah..hope dad ain’t mad over my communication past year’, sighed Ankit.

Holding this thought for a second, he then knocked on that big-black familiar door of his home. It read ‘flat no. 28 – Sharma’s Residence’.

He hadn’t seen home for a while, reading the name plate thrilled him. He planned this trip out of the blue and tried best to keep this a surprise visit. He was worried over his fiance’s reaction to his secret plan and then jumped over pondering about his parent’s joy on his visit. Before he could smile and knock, door’s latch made a cranky sound and it opened to the inside.

There Stood a big black man attired in a grey suit, holding the door knob. Sneaking a view through the half opened door unveiled a crowdy gathering and loud party music.

Stumped to the event, he took off his earphones and spoke ,

“Is there some party going on??” asked Ankit to the bouncer (the door man).

“yes sir! it’s a ‘home welcoming party to Mr.Sharma’s only Son”, said the bouncer.

“Huh! But I din’t say anything about my arrival ,then How come?”,surprised Ankit tried to step inside the hall.

The bouncer stopped him, “sir! may I see your invitation”,he requested.

“WHAT!! you’re gonna ask me invitation to my own house?,I am Ankit! Ankit Sharma! The SON!!”.he said loudly, ridiculing the stupidity of his question.

“and I am sure sir! you have your invitation!”, replied bouncer, much calmly.

After few verbal exchanges, Ankit showed his ID but it din’t impress the gate man.

A long fussy debate got over with a bribe of 1000 Rs and ankit finally walked inside the hall.

He murmured  ,“ Damn man! money to enter your own home, what stupid crooked security, am gonna make him apologize by night”

he placed his bag beside the door, as asked by the bouncer. Then he took one of the slippers from shoe rack and placed his travelling shoes in place. He started moving around, scanning this loud and crowdy room. He sees his father at farther end of hall. He waves to his father who waved back with a smile.

Sanguinely, he pushed through the drunk and dancing crowd, got some red wine spilled on his white shirt.

Ignoring the spill, “Hey Dad! Surprise!! I am home! ”,he rejoiced.

However, his facial efforts kept accentuating and he started looking un-natural and uncomfortable to the passive reaction of his father.

“Hey buddy! Any confusions? Must be Ankit’s friend right? you should meet my son Ankit! He’s standing next  to the Dj control! change your shirt dear! It stinks with wine spill!”,said Mr. Sharma, who then waved at another guy and left.

Ankit got stupefied to this bizarre response and stood blank for a moment. Something hit him in the head, as if either he travelled in time machine or suffered a brain wreck. Not thinking further, he looked around for the DJ control, to find this other Ankit.

He got desperate and pushed hard through the crowd. However, his physique didn’t agree to his anger, got tripped over and broke his glasses.

“Damn! These people must be really happy for my return! They are celebrating and wrecking  all over me”, he murmured.

he started crawling on the floor and finally reached the DJ control with mighty efforts. A man helped him to get up,

“hi! I am Ankit! I just came back from states, nice welcoming party, isn’t it?!.

And you’re..?” ,said the DJ.

“ ummm.. i.. am.. Ank..Ankit too, never mind”,said Ankit, now feeling insulated to this stupid scenario.

“oh! You must have been a friend of dad, never seen you before, a distant relative, are you??”,he said, lowering the sound of speaker.

“what the hell man! This is my home! Who are you and what is goin on..”,Ankit erupted with anger.

The man at DJ asked him more questions-he  questioned his identity, his job, his relations in india and added royally to his frustration. Further, adding worsely to Ankit’s annoyance- the DJ man would lower the volume while asking questions and increase it while Ankit would try answering any of them.

he (dj man) laughed at him,again and again and again..

“Hey man! I can’t make any sense of you! I guess the music is too loud! Why don’t u change that stinky shirt and wear a t-shirt from the many lying at sofa!”,said the DJ with a naughty grin.

“Strange deejay guy ,must be stoned on weed or something,everyone is effing stoned, am gonna scold everyone after the party”, said  patience god Ankit.

He then readily moved towards the entrance door, only to find his bag missing.

“Hey man! Where’s my bag,it had lot of clothing and gifts inside”, asked Ankit to the bouncer.

The bouncer din’t care to engage in any dialogues with him. Ankit too wasn’t planning to piss off the big guy. He shook his head in irritation and finally picked up one of the t-shirts from the sofa and changed.

He then moved around to search for his mother. Meanwhile, a man in crowd shouted to catch his attention, “Hey! Boy! Get me another drink and some snacks, will you”.

Trying to gratify himself as the party host , Ankit took the man’s glass and moved to the kitchen, “Rude guests! Where did the self service go man! Indians need pampering, always!!”

“hey mom! Thank god you’re here”, he looked left to his shoulder and smiled.

The old lady smiled, she nodded and intimated him that she can’t hear him.

He got agitated and shouted again,

“hey mom! Thank god I found you. surprise! I am home!!”,again putting lot of efforts in facial expressions.

The lady took a pencil and wrote on paper, ‘Nice to meet you son.I can’t hear,I am temporarily deaf!’.

”oh!! what happened Mom”,asked worried Ankit.

She wrote again-‘You must be one of my husband’s  associates, he  has pulled off a great deal in first quarter  and  he is celebrating with this nice party, isn’t that great!’,she smiled.

He lost the conversation at that very note and got completely out of his mind, “WHAT the hell is going here!”,he yelled.

He moved out of kitchen, crawled around the wall’s corners, trying to reach the DJ’s desk. He got stumbled at one of the mirrors, only to find out that he was wearing a t-shirt that read-‘gladly at your service! ‘King’s kitchen’.

“what the hell man! i ain’t a bloody waiter here!”,he shrugged furiously.

Having had enough of party, he stormed to the DJ floor, took one big speaker and broke it pieces.

The whole crowd looked shock and awe. They stared at him for a moment, then each one in the room took out their giant headphones and disc players, plugged in and started dancing like crazy. They were literally mocking ankit and celebrating over his frustration.

He looked around with a whacko face, his mouth was wide-open. He madly looked at each one of them and shouted- “mad house!! MAD HOUSE ,MADD HOUSEE ,I AM LEAVING”

Instantly, a man pushed him to the centre, where his father stood with his cousin brother and fiancé,

“the DJ is my brother, it was my idea to give you a sweet dose of reminiscence”, winked his fiancé.

“Never lie to your fiancé sweety and never leave your mail box open, I saw your bookings a week back”, tongue in cheek, she smiled.

“yes, and you must keep in touch regularly, or we will throw you more surprises” , laughed all-  his father ,mother and his cousins.

“Okay! Okay!  I am sorry, I know I know, but please don’t give me such train wrecks”, sheepishly smiled an apologetic Ankit.

Everyone burst into laughter and joined in to cut the cake which read-

Surprise!!! ,If you want to evade one-KEEP IN TOUCH!! 😉

yours loving,

family & friends”.

Ankit understood everything and said – “ohhh!!! And it makes sense too, wow! hahah”

and the whole place burst into another laughter.

“Yes! I promise, I will take out more time out of my busy schedule”,said a sincere Ankit with smile.

“ if you din’t notice,you couldn’t have made it more classy! you  chose your surprise visit on 1st of april. I am sure it’s by default of-course,

aah..you’re so forgetful and clueless sometimes sweety”, smiled and winked his fiance.

She then blew the cake candles with him and then the actual welcoming party started. This party was pretty warm.

 

 

A Warm Welcome - Humor

A Warm Welcome – Humor Story

How to interpret poetry – chapter 2 of 2

What are the basic things you can do to make your poetic-comprehension better?

Here are the few basic things that you can try (some poem forms may have strict formats or overtly regularized rules of syllable count or line count, but considering most  poems are written as free verse) –

  1. You may read the poem’s title but don’t try to articulate your understanding of the poem around it. The poet may have variety of reasons for naming it and the fact that the title appears in the last line or is mostly repeated as a word, isn’t a great one to think so.
  1. Unless it’s a story running, there’s no beginning, middle and end-it’s not written like that. If there are five stanzas, each one is good enough to understand the intent of the poetry.
  1. Always try to look for the theme of the poem and try to guess the mood/state-of-wonder of the poet, in which it must have been written. There will always be circumstances that compel and challenge a poet, to sit down and write his verses.  What do you think were for this one?
  1. The most important thing is to understand the comparisons- if the poem is good with metaphors or if the poem is great with simile (because these are the most common & mostly used figure of speeches). If you can get a hang of few comparisons of those many, you can catch the thread of this big-revolving ball, embroiled with thoughts.
  1. If you can sympathize with the poem, that is good but if you see yourself in the poet’s shoes then it’s a great poem.  every poem with an emphatic effect is a master-piece.
  1. Rhyming schemes are not important, some poems may be structured like normal lines broken at random intervals, some with repetition of ‘ if,when,of’-> to start each line of stanza, some poet’s may obviate the breaking into stanzas and are completely obsessed with the momentum of it, the same way it has hit them while writing it. some poems may be decorated with lot of words that are rhyming together, sweet-sounding homophones, some have lot of commas & semicolon usages. some poets address a change or challenge into the society , they take pride in writing long line verses and repetitions that vociferate their idea. some just concentrate on so many multi-level comparisons, that everything else is forgotten.

Hence, it is not important to understand the rhyming scheme or words usage. As you may see, no poem can have all those attributes, if poem lives on one, it sacrifices the other.

It is important to catch the mental tone, in which the poet has written it. The maximum energy of his skills goes where? Find out?- the figure of speeches, the rhyming scheme, the beginning of the line, the momentum. Etc. it’s reverse-engineering. You try to put yourself in his shoes and you get everything as he has painted. You have your ocular device to view it and discuss your image of his vivid description.

 

How does a poet sees his poetry?

A poet sees his poetry as an external sense of his physical self. He takes all the bubbles of his emotional and mental thoughts, his innermost turmoil, he mixes them up and present it on paper via his tools. It is now captured into a static medium of observation from a dynamic, ever-evolving chain of thoughts. It has a specific date & time of birth. It can be spread & shared to others ,who will see it and express themselves too. They might be triggered into a similar state of realization. Hence, the poet’s need of expressing his idea is the fascination of its complexity, his spiritual gratification lies in the accomplishment of this task and the open end to the process is the revolution that it has created for others who read it.

 

What should you never tell a poet about his poem?

  1. Never tell a poet that he has a great vocabulary and that was an awesome word he used. The poet is already in a life-long struggle with himself to find the correct words, which of-course is a learning process and sometimes a frustrating wild-goose chase. He is more interested in the verbiage of the viewer of that poem (the person whose in the poem’s scene or scenario).
  1.  Never conclude a poem or give a linear opinion. Nobody in the poetic brethren will like it.
  1. Never lecture a poet to pick the topics or work on diluting the abstract thoughts to reader’s end. Remember! It’s not in his control! He writes what he experiences. If it’s intentional & topics are chosen to cater the reader, quality & purpose of the poem will suffer.
  1. Don’t give stupid comments that the rhyming is so abab! I like it! Or syllable count is great or its- long or short. These are simply secondary observations. He is more interested in your open-end description or your sympathy/empathy with the state of trance.
  1. At last, if you can suitably suggest an alternate title to the poem or discuss your opinion about a similar poem. It will be work great at both ends.

Where to start now after reading all of this?

The best place to start is with poems that can appeal. Simply, pick up limericks ( these are usually funny), haiku ( relates to idea of a scene) , general free verse poems of comical genres or poems on sarcasm about everyday’s life situation. It will be easier to start with and you can build your interest and dwell into other complicated work as per you discretion.

 

 

 

Good luck reading poems.

being a reader

being a reader

 

Godspeed.

Vishu mishra