When a poet cooks death the city turns red with bloodstains and some high-flying vultures crawl on the tireless meadow of welkin's chawl while clutching some cataclysmic parables and holding an essence of crumblings inside their hooked beaks and meaty claws.
When a poet cooks death metaphors and tropes become murky & sunless and the chawl becomes a quibbling umbra while silencing the hymns of white curtains ; but ruminating inside that rotten yacht and chewing the cud near the burgee, the fleshes of poet start mouldering.
When a poet cooks death the kitchen's doormat never welcomes euphoria the blenders commingle mourns & nightfall the refrigerator freezes sinister phantasm and the cabinet stockpiles dark-skinned torments & the rice cooker scatters the fragrance of anise and at two am, the dinner table waits for him, with a casserole of piquant metaphors of death verse.
Han to mere jigar k chhalle Poore nalle Bin gend k balle Ghor kalle
Gadhon ka mela Keedon ka thela Koi aadmi tapkela Faltu ka jhamela.
Thode bandar Looser sikandar Chuha bil k andar Bina bat k bawandar
Kamine kutte Kukurmutte Ek rupee k chhutte Bidi or sutte
Machi hui khalbali Mausi of Khali Jaise bala tali Nut of moongfali.
Psycho man Toote hue pan Jaise daru hua ban Or Mirakee k Shinchan
Happy birthday to you, I guess itni taareef kaafi hai , nahi?.
Acha chalo thodi jhoothi tareef v kar dun
So Mr. HBF (only you know the full form aur incase bhool gaye ho to milna khopche me ,bataungi fir)
First of all let's start that where did we start. We didn't start from reading each other's post but we started knowing each other when Gunnu made us meet. You needed a vocal and I was there and you chose me to give my voice for your videos and that's how we used to run same page. Relationship with you is very different from others.
I remember that I had just seen your message and didn't reply it and you became angry on me and how did I convince you. I remember our late night talks, I remember that how you used to listen to my voice and give compliment over it. I remember that you always say that I am your Gunneet Sikka because my voice matches with her. Leg pullings of each other and that voice-video chat with you (ek aur jo honi thi wo ab tak ho hi rahi). I'm a big fan of what you write and thankful to your sense of being my reader.
I remember that you say that Baalak aisa hai waisa hai tumhari crush aisi hai waisi hai but never praised me, but that night when you really confessed about how much do you appreciate me, was unexpected. I love your funny nature but that serious compliment is closed in my heart. I also remember that poetry, you wrote for me (fir se kho gyi yaar phone change hone pe). I remember how you always say uff busy log, and then yar ek voice message bhej do yaar.
The way you adore me is what I adore the most. I don't say but deep down I know you have a substitute crush on me And you had accepted it that if your first crush won't accept you then you'll propose me. Well I'm not gonna be impressed lol. So many memories with you and we are flawlessly going.
Wishing you a very happy birthday Harshit the Sh**t (Miraquill ka terms and conditions hai sh**t directly likha to post report ho jaegi par tumhara nam hi aisa h)
Well once more happy birthday Harsh May God bless you. And you get the Ambition, you chose for yourself.