Cranberry Sauce

Forgive me this one time, this wont happen again I wont let my thoughts run free, the way they would I wont let my desires fuel, the way they once did And then again, and then again I wont dream of having your body in my arms, again Your slender figure, your delicate curves, your smooth skin, your anxious moulds I wont long to see the crystal gleam in your eyes Your eyes............................ I wont dream of your moist lips on mine The sweet summer taste of honey and lime I wont ache to smell your bountiful tresses Or stroke my crude hands over your tantalizing silken mane The strands of strength will be mine no more O, Where will I hide without the cosy shelter of your hair I wont crave for your reassuring gentle touch That still sends scintillating shivers down my spine I wont…. Ask you to be my princess, my whore My one, my only, my heart, my soul I wont desire again to be your man Your savior, your hero, your master, your owner I wont ever again be your fortress against infil...

…..And there's nothing wrong with me This is how I'm supposed to be In a land of make believe That don't believe in me….. “Malls: Where people make believe, where escape from reality is cool, where individual identities are conveniently camouflaged in social swarms” – this is what I texted a dear friend last evening. I was at a mall with my family. It was a Sunday evening. I wondered whether the place was reminiscent more of a Virar local at peak rush or a toddler fancy dress competition. There seemed to be an odd, unspoken mutual need for all those people to be there – maybe to reassure each other of their existence. By themselves, they felt like lost strangers, but together they represented the majority of purposeful rationalism. We went to the furniture and lifestyle store(y), then to the apparels outlet – a shame-inducing collection of what the definition of fashion (and hence society) is today, inspired of course by our own dons and divas of the film “industry”, ...

Like it or not, you have surely asked yourself this question some time or the other. I would like to make my stance on this. I find this an extremely daunting task, as I find the weight of a billion odd United supporters on my shoulders; I need to do justice to each one of them – to their love and devotion. Most importantly, I need to do justice to my own love – if I define it, the definition must be perfect. I support Manchester United. No wait, I LOVE Manchester United; And it is not for not for sale. Over the course of the next 500 words or so, I will try and convince you why. Just for the record, it is extremely difficult to define just why you love what you love, it will be a shame if you have to justify to yourself someday why exactly you love your mother or girlfriend. First, let me introduce you to my idea of love. According to me, beauty = love = pain = pleasure. What you find beautiful you love and vice versa. Love burns a hole in your heart, it gives you pain, it makes you f...