The Nanny Manny Video Game

Here’s a poem about the modern world.

A light hearted poetry, it focuses on a concept- Gen X and Gen Z


For an evening, I was the nanny of a boy.

An eight year old lad, he was both bright and coy.

His mother was to leave for the show with her friends as I stepped inside to take over the chores.

He smiled at me, and waved gleefully with his fingers four.

“Where is your thumb? I asked him.

“Resting.” He said in a whim.

“Video games, I hate it.” His mother screamed from behind the closed doors.

“Ohh!” I merely could utter nothing else fearing I might sound like a bore.

After I sat down with a glass of water,

Juno peeped from behind the living room clutter.

“What is it that you’d say if I ask to join me for a game?’

 “A game of what?” I could see everything else, other than the video game.”

“Video games, PUBG, and what? He stood there, unsure of my reply.

‘Ahh! But your mother does not favour it.” I replied quickly.

‘I can teach you,” he offered a deal I could not deny.

I knew deep within, I felt a bit peevish in not knowing how to play a game, and now here I was having an ally.

Coyly I obeyed my master, too short, to be one.

But I did not go by his size, for don’t they say, size doesn’t matter when you want to learn having fun.

His room was not too tidy, but then he offered me the big bed.

I didn’t mind the breadcrumbs on the floor as I long as I sat upon the homestead.

Then he gave me a small horse shoe or so it seemed at a glance.

Until I noted small buttons- red, green, black and blue,

Slowly, I sipped from my glass to quench my thirst.

A remote, I rectified my thought.


He gave me a nod and said, ‘Here we start, you are no longer my nanny but my opponent and you possess the darts.”

I looked at the screen, some cartoon figures brightly dressed, stood there, smiling at me.

“You are this one- Lady Kararoomba,’ the boy spoke as though a kid very smart.

“And you are who?” I asked quaintly, almost loosing my sheen.

“I am the bad king and you are the good girl,’ he said as I shook slightly from fear.

Again he nodded and the screen came alive.

Everything was moving and I felt as though the whole screen was taking a dive.

“Ohh my God, what do I do, what do I do.” I panicked for goodness must thrive.

“Use the buttons dumbo.” He did not look up but on the remote, he stuck his eyes open wide.

I pressed the buttons but I admit the screen was moving faster than my nimble fingers could glide, on the machine.

“Save Kararoomba, save her, you owe your blood to her alone, abide.” The screen screeched and hissed and I was out of my wits again.

The screen came to a halt and with it my heart leaped and leaped.

“Did she die?” I asked him and his eyes grew wide.

“Yes.” He nodded and I could see te from his face slide.

“Haven’t you ever played it?” I was almost in tears for no fault of mine.

Guilty, and ashamed of not having been able to save her.

For in my time, we roamed free to oil our gear.


“Fine, let us play Ludo then, I am sure, you know what that is, like my old mother.”

“Yes, yes. I do. I nodded to shake away my guilt and fear.

I remember as a girl, I played Ludo amid the free woods,

Which were long gone and now there stood,

a resort which people visited to cover their moods.

He snatched the remote from my hand.

But, I still felt fear and guilt well up, guilt with shame.

I wish I could set everything right by merely swinging a wand.

I wish I could earn fame as a dame playing the video game.

But, then we played Ludo and spent the evening left, silently until her mother came.


I hid the event from her and I was sure, so would Juno.

That night when I went back home and sat beside my mom,

She asked me what crime I had done to be so numb.

I told her I failed to save Kararoomba from the video game.

“Who?” My mother questioned even when I had explained every bit to her about the game.

I could now see why people get hooked to such games, as my dad stood nodding, understanding nothing,

But just the name in the game.

Creative Corner · Poems

We Want to Control Everything

We want to control everything

We want to tame down all.

Our desire to control,

overpowers our inner animal.

Our inner animal overpowers,

our inner human.

I understand fighting

against an enemy that tries to kill us.

But why kill?

Why territorise?

Why not live together?

One who understands enmity,

often fails to practice it.

One who fails to practice enmity,

are often termed as weak men.

A weak man is always overpowered.

So, we must keep killing.

Many must die for one to stay.

Many must go for one to be.

One man drops his weapons,

another tries to overpower, what must one do?

Pick it up again?

Blame the world for making him a killer?

A horrible killer?

Killer of men, slayer of dogs,

Master of violence.

The happy days are gone as a man watches in mute silence,

as men watch obliquely.

All these ages have gone past,

What makes humans forget every time

They are born here; we are to make peace and not war.

We are to return home and not wade far.

That one thing in us – a worm I call, could not be killed in so many years when we have almost killed all –

our mightiest enemies,

our faintest fears,

Our near and dear,

our garish ears,

our inner gears,

the world we hear,

our mockeries & jeer,

We kill always our dear & near.

That inner worm still lives after so many years!


Fun poem- The Taj is on sale

Taj Mahal entry restricted to 3 hours for tourists | Times ...
Image credit: TOI

Once I went to visit the Taj Mahal.

the white, translucent macabre I had heard , it once was.

But no longer, it seemed translucent by any means.

A little pale or maybe a light cream, you can call its hue now is,

I stood there in a wig, a brunette, I was trying to be.

I wanted to avoid my friends, by all means.

I frankly wanted to roam alone.

So I not only wore a wig, but a hat atop,

with pale dark glasses to match, covered my big, petal eyes.

Away from the crazy crowd,

I slowly took one step at a time.

It was still gorgeous,

Silent and calm, watching over men,

the cool floors enticed me.

I sat on the sides, under the shade for a while,

beside a man, quite unaware of him.

In a minute or two, he asked me,

“Are you from Greece?”

“No, why?” I noticed him for the first time.

“You look like a Greek Goddess.” He bluffed.

“Which one?” I prodded his knowledge.

After a while, he shouted, “Athena, I believe.”

“Well, Hungary, I am from Hungary.”

I held my nose a little high in the air.

He did not ask for my ticket or I could be caught.

After an entire minute, he spoke again.

“Do you know the Taj is on sale?”

Which Taj, I asked?”

“How many Taj’s do you know?” he challenged me.

“Many.” I told him and followed my friend’s queue.

While turning round the square corner, I quickly stashed my wig, hat and glasses in my duffel bag.

I also borrowed a long shrug from a friend to hide my frame,

as I slipped past the man.

But, I saw, by then, he

had already started selling the Taj to another svelte blonde.

Climate Frontier · Poems

The end will begin again-Poem

Do you really think the end will begin again?

With the kind of swift ecological degradation, we are inching fast towards an ice age evidentially. So what good way to start a new phase or chapter in my renovated blog than a poem on Nature, the one which is standing on the brim of hope for a better world.

Here it it is!

I pulled my grey coat close.

I was not sure how long the gnawing wind could be stopped by a mere coat.

The temperature dropped and I grew colder.

The ice age was nearing.

“Run, run for your life,” someone screamed loud.

I ran home and started a hearth I knew would not end in a long while..

We had to live.

The temperature fell fast.

People fell faster.

I was though clever.

At 1500 metres above sea level I was all I could be.

then one day, all was white.

Almost five years of isolation grew my bones weary.

I needed to see a doctor first, I thought to myself. I needed to know I was still enough to move around, to hope, to dare again.

Then, I needed to breathe the new world.

I thought again, half of the world was lost.

A few peeks stood tall.

I was in one of them.

Among friends who had saved me somehow.

My family stood close.

I closed my eyes one last time to end the very night that stood between me and the new morn.

Next time, you come back there will be more than this poem here on this site.


Whoever comes first

Whoever comes first, I would marry you,

Either of you since this is where I end.

I call it a chance.

I call it fate.

Whoever comes first, I would care for you,

Either of you, since this is where I begin.

I call it a stance.

I call it a date.

Whoever comes first, I would live with you, always.

Either of you, since this is where I return.

I call it a dance.

I call it a gate.

Whoever comes first, I would love you always,

Either of you, since this is where I belong.

I call it a trance.

I call it a mate.

Whoever comes first, I would be honest with you,

Either of you, since this is where I grow.

I call it a glance.

I call it a wait.

Whoever comes first, I would be clear with you,

Either of you, since I do not discriminate.

I call it a balance.

I call it a fate.

Whoever comes first, I would wish to be friends with you,

Either of you, since I respect and want an end to this game,

I call it a zeal, a parlance.

I call it a latte.



Some of us live sometime,

Some of us live always,

Some of us live never,

Some of us live less.

What can I do for it?

What can I do then?

It was not right,

What you did.

It was not right,

What you thought.

It was right,

you created a raucous.

It was wrong,

you created a focus.

What can I do for it?

What can I do then?

It is sometimes that we

cannot cross the barriers.

some people, their love

or their hatred.

We cannot cross these men,

since they do not want to leave.

If they do not leave, they can stay.

But, if one wants to stay,

Is it not good to know how

I want to stay with a person.

How I want to take a person.

After all, every attachments requires

two to make it seem like it’s joined.

What can I do for it?

What can I do then?

Now, when they don’t come.

What do you do?

Do you go, stay, create, fake some.

What do you say?

Okay, come let’s see if it works

But then again they don’t come.

But again they don’t turn.

What can I do for it?

What can I do then?


Love is like

Love is like salt,

It creates a taste.

Love is like sugar,

Do not haste.

Love for him

was warm and whims.

Someone’s love for me

was unknown and free.

But, then the man who hid

all this while under the lid.

The man who showed up

to me like a cup.

Life can be confusing at times.

Yet, I respect your feelings,

still now. You could talk to me

like a friend in the making.

But, you chose not to, though

I was there to listen.

You can still come back

Lay your heart bare on the stack.

I would listen to you still

not doing a favour.

Not intending to savour

Just like a man talks to the woman

If at all he likes her,

We can create a bond, a holy matrimony.

For my love can’t stay, taken he stands aloof.

But, yours can, if I choose you,

We all have darkness and dampness.

I too, have them as my sharpness.

If you can see through me.

If you do not want to flee from me?

Love for me was already taken,

I am not at all shaken

For love once for him was true.

But if love for you is also true,

Then let’s get bonded, slowly pure.

I will spend my life, strive

through my ways, till I go back

where I began, if the one I love

and one who loves me does not turn up.

I am free yet I respect you both.

If I am with the one I love,

I will live till the end with you only if you come.

If I live with the one who once claimed to love me.

I will live till the end with you only if you come.


Love is not coming my way

Love is not coming my way

in forms it exists around my pay.

I pay to eat, I pay to sleep,

I pay to be happy,

I pay when I am sad too.

I always pay, when I have none.

I pay in kind if I can’t pay cash.

I pay to unwind and be a dash.

I pay to be happy.

So, do I now pay for love?

For love is not coming my way.

I sat back to think, to mourn, to laugh.

I sat back to know I won’t.

I won’t pay in cash or kind for the sake of love.

For I do not take love as a game.

I was told I was loved,

By a silhouette who never came

to talk straight on the face.

To tell me through the haze.

But, I waited though I did not love.

For a friend in me, I thought existed to accept the love.

But, then the brown eyed, gap in the tooth guy

never came and the game got real sly.

I quietly withdrew, yet the day he left I spoke soft.

Then, I found a face, fell in love.

People said it won’t happen, coz I betrayed one.

And that he was already taken.

If no one talks is it still betrayal for

I do not pay to buy love.

If no one puts it forth,

Can I jump onto the knees?

Will that be sane for the world?

Or will that be the way to pay

to be loved and get love.

The one I loved will never happen for

I have it seems hurt one.

Fine then I say.

Come to me and say

Say if it’s true and not a game

Say if it’s nothing to do with any form of pay.

Say and I may see the truth now and stay.

But say not through hoardings, not through others,

Say through your mouth with a cute gap between your tooth.

Say and I may see the truth now and stay by you,

Who knows how long but long enough to respect your love.

You need not be nasty, need not be a nerd, need

not dress differently to be heard.

Say and I would listen, for smelling it works

It works for me, but saying would work for both.

Let’s sort it out, and if your soul was true as they say.

Let’s talk and see where you could not care more.

If you do not talk I do not go down to harness

an insult or a joke. You made enough fun

of me for no reason. So know, I still

do not pay to love or be loved.

Reach a space either recede or come.

For I have a long way to go then.

I have a long way beyond the one who loved me and whom I loved

If I may say so, for I never have hate and many gates.

I have a long way to go, the bells toll, the praying wheels

Clang calling me their very own.

I must go since there, to love silence I need never pay.


I want to know

I want to know sometime,

What made you twist the plot?

What made you dislike me?

What made you connive against me?

What made your brown eyes hollow?

What made you not talk to me?

What made you feel odd with the Buddha?

What made you sit back in fumes?

What made your smile crooked for me?

I never intended to harm you.

I never intended to warm you.

I never spoke bad about you.

I never tried anything more than being a friend ever.

Friend as the word goes.

For I don’t think you loved.

I am sure you didn’t.

For if you did, as they said,

Was talking so hard, symbology is not my way.

God bless you wide.

It was more twisted than I thought it was

Straighten it, or let it go hide.

Teasing, bullying, fighting was never what

I wanted to do,

For I was counting my days.


I hate

I dislike to hide,

what I feel, but I don’t feel the tide.

I dislike to hate,

But then I do hate at times.

I hate to let unassuming people

Come within, yet I do not

hate friends, once were friends.

I hate to be stabbed at the back,

I hate to be murdered in cold blood.

I hate to not like it all.

I hate to not find it all.

I hate when I say yes and

people take it as “no.”

I hate when I say no and

people take it as Yes.

I hate when people try

to enter through wrong ways.

Every man has a way, so do I.

I hate to say that and this.

Yet, I do not hate none.

I hate none, yet I do not

wish to hate at all.

I hate to be twisted.

I hate to be tossed.

I hate when women are called weak.

I hate when women are pressed down.

I hate when humans take other humans for granted.

I hate when humans live like dead.

I hate when humans die to stay breathing & alive.