Besan Ka Halwa

--Epilogue-- (The alleged creator and his creation are dead. And so is the tale apparently. Or is it?)   The Blacksmith told me in after-life He didn’t but the infamy did survive The applause he’d had once with zest It’s high time the case be put to rest. Chorus: Put to rest, put to rest. It’s high time the case be put to rest… Now the old Knock-Knock joker is up there The Blacksmith and its creator both would share A glass of whisky on the rocks Revel and revile some Kooler Talks. The beak of steel was used to stir And the big round wheel stank of slur  Up there the two silver bowls did rust And the whole steamy thing gathered dust. Chorus: Gathered dust, gathered dust. The whole steamy thing gathered dust… To wipe the bowels clean next day Apologies were due to his dismay. The surd’s wit and the Blacksmith’s rod Would shun what now no one could laud. So they sat on their respective pots In hereafter, took a line o

I have time to kill Feel guilty but can’t help it Checking the bill again ‘Café Frappe’ did I pronounce it rightly This time? The best I could do Also asked for a cocoa topping Not sure what it tastes like I am not hungry That streetside pav bhaaji was heavy The waiter’s getting my order It looks like ordinary cold coffee Sips It tastes like one too Frappé Hmm Sighs I am not hungry Frappé My official permission to kill time inside That expensive coffeehouse I’d heard time is money How does it feel to kill both simultaneously In cold blood? ‘Feel guilty but can’t help it’ I rest my case your honour The menu seemed to have life in it Its numbers mocked me The cheapest item suited me (With cocoa topping to avoid the attendant’s judging) The television’s working in here But the people around seem more watchable Glasses full Eyes empty Furnished tables Tarnished smiles Real money From fake pockets Slipping out

"Learn" Forget. Read. Forget. Write. Forget. Read. Write. Forget. Write. Read. Forget. Write. Read. Read. Forget. Read. Write. Read. Forget. Read. Forget. Write. Forget. Write. Forget. Read. Forget. Write. Read. Forget. Read. Write. Forget. Write. Forget. Read. Forget. Learn. Forget. Forget.

By Vikram Grewal Brexit Blues: Wodehouse meets Monty Python going ‘eww’ Post-Referendum developments highlight what Britain has always been known for- a classy sense of humour. Britain has had its share of quirks that went down in history. Among other things it’s been known as the land of Cricket (the not-so-gentlemen’s game) and the Earl Grey Tea (which was a subject of frivolity in the nineteenth century regarding its name among the masses- “it was never grey, it was black and now is green as well, but never grey!”). In the latter half of the Twentieth Century, Britain’s claim to fame in the post-colonial world, after losing its mojo of imperialism, was its humour. After almost 52 per cent of the British population voted to ‘leave’ the European Union, talks and discussions began regarding Article 50 of the EU constitution that quite ‘vaguely’ expedites the termination of the membership of a nation. David Cameron, another white chubby PM in GB’s long list of chub