Do better

The weight of our fears
Heavy on our lips
The depth of our years
Slip through our fingertips

Ch: Don’t moan
Do better
Do better
Don’t groan
Do better
Do better

To carry the blame
A chip on the shoulder
Release all the pain
The shame is now over

Freedom to choose
Trust is a gamble
Pay off our dues
Our conscience lies trampled

Despise all excuses
Believe in yourself
Learn from your losses
Overcome what you felt

Do better

Plak-Tau (Mongolian Blood Curry)

250 gm fresh blood
1/2 onion
1 brown potato
2 chillis
3 tomatoes
4 tbsp cooking oil
5 curry masala
6 garlic cloves
7 garam masala
Salt, to taste

Wash the blood, then boil it for a couple of minutes in cooking water and set aside. Eating blood is similar to drinking curd. You could roll it with your fingers to give it a round, meaty texture.
Tan the oil in a pan, as you would for cooking any meat. Add chopped onion and fry until it matches your skin tone. Then dump in the diced chillies, garlic, tomatoes, and potato.
When the paste starts to thicken add salt, curry masala, and garam masala. Mix well to fuse.
Finally, add the boiled blood.
Mix well and cover the pan so it can cook for 5 and a half minutes. Remove from fire and happy april fools’ day. Serve hot.

don’t say I didn’t warn you

Don’t say I didn’t warn you

Don’t say I didn’t care

Every day I waited

You just weren’t there

Don’t say I didn’t notice

Don’t say life’s not fair

When you don’t understand yourself

What can you share

Don’t mistake kindness for weakness

Don’t assume patience won’t wear

Every emotion is worth something

All our desires laid bare

Ch: It’s always the wasted moments

That come back to taunt us

It’s always the broken promises

We can never repair

It’s always later than we expected

Falling teeth and losing hair

It’s always something

we couldn’t accomplish

Fulfillment is rare

Don’t say I didn’t warn you

Don’t say I didn’t care

Every day I waited

You just weren’t there

the heart sees

The heart sees

The mind knows

Where were you when this began?

It’s been 38 years of searching

Taken every step to keep from falling

All the emptiness fades to nothing

Man of the world

I keep to myself

So many lives at stake

Nowhere to hide

The heart sees

The mind knows

All the doubts I’ve left behind

Every bridge rebuilt is mine

Give what’s left to embrace this life

Gaze into the abyss and smile

Every ache is healed in time

Length and Breadth

It tilted at an odd 10-degree angle as it curved around the hillside. Makes one wonder how they laid the tar. Imagine if tar wasn’t as sticky and pasty as it is. If the tar was watery, it could have flowed due to the tilt and made it impossible to lay the road. This tar was intact, and after sundown seemed to reflect the dark sky with its twinkling inhabitants.
A honk from behind and ahead. A yellow barricade, tottering on three legs because of some unskilled blacksmith who didn’t double-check his work, obstructed the footpath. The bus stand situated a little way behind was still bustling with people returning home after work. There was the semblance of chaos amidst the calm workings of a day drawing to its end.
With a cellphone to her ear, she struts along the white lining on the edge of the road. Unperturbed by everything around her and focused on the familiar voice reassuring her. A bulky lorry rolls around the bend, and an unidentifiable shape tumbles off the top. A crash and a thud, then a scream. The cellphone hits the unforgiving tar and instantly blinks off. Moments pass before vehicles start collecting at the scene. A massive log has partially blocked the road, and people gather around. Someone calls for help on his phone while another group starts trying to move the log out of the road. There is a broken cellphone on the side of the road, but no one notices.