FOR BETTER OR FOR VERSE

Those were the days my friend,
We didn’t have Cut, Copy, Paste and Send.

I could not sleep the whole night long;
Thinking of how every Right just went Wrong;
I wish I could sing a happy song.

Can big teams play BIG football?
Well, the only thing BIG is their fall.

So low are the ways of Indian leaders;
That virtually they are corruption breeders;
Or in other words nation bleeders.

I like the sun, the moon and the flowers;
But, what I like best are the monsoon showers.

Sundays are for rising late,
Sundays are for rest;
But God, when I watch the world cup,
Don’t send any visitor or guest.

England did not have it in them to win;
But they made enough din;
For Lampard’s goal that went in the bin.

Nice to be witness to Brazilian magic;
Thrice Chile was fooled by their trick;
All field goals and no penalty kick.

One is born, works, eats, plays, sleeps, and dies;
Is there nothing else to our lives?
What about Love, its joys and sighs?

“I too want a degree”
Said the Paki son to his dad;
“Okay” said the father, “I can buy BA, MA,
But Phd is the current fad”.

Rain, rain don’t go away;
Please come every day;
Little Rooney never wants to play.

The Samba boys are finally out,
Being done in by the Dutch;
Dont you feel the Brazilians,
Had lost their magic touch?

Massacre of Argentina was a subject,
Klose to Germany’s heart;
And Messi? Well, he,
just proved to be a fart!

“When will India excel in Soccer?”
Asked of his father a son.
He replied, “Only after,
With Cricket, we have done”.

When will realise strikes don’t help;
Except those who, like dogs, yelp.

Muttiah Muralitharan is,
The best off-spinner we ever had;
Now that he is retiring,
We can’t help feeling sad.

People come into your life for a reason.
But, whether or not they stay depends upon the season!

How lovely to have children around;
Oh, don’t we all love the sound,
Of their little feet on floor or ground?

Let’s not make a big fuss,
About Paul the Octopus;
If he was really so bright,
He’d be emitting an Oranje light!

I remember the days they’re small;
And used to see me as a hero.
But now that my kids have grown up,
I ‘ve become closer to a zero.

Come be my love till the end of Time;
But, at least be mine till the end of this rhyme.

‘Tis better not to fall in love,
And keep a steady head;
For she will surely pull the plug,
And leave you cold and dead.

Now that we have found Higgs Bosun,
Can we do without God?
But, after all is said and done,
What if it turns out to be fraud?

Peace with our neighbour Pakistan,
Will never get a chance;
So long as they feel that hatred,
Is the best political stance.

I thought I could live without friends,
And I believed it was true;
But thank God I was wrong,
For I can’t live without you.

The best days are Sundays,
’cause they have my name (Ravi);
Without them there won’t be fun days,
And life would not be the same.

Of all things life makes you learn,
This one you shouldn’t forget;
When you, with envy burn;
You have already lost the bet.

India and Pakistan will always be,
Strange bedfellows;
Who want to get along famously,
But take offence to even “hellos”.

Sometimes you tweet and tweet,
And you still can’t be heard;
Like as if your best feat,
Is simply absurd.

How many total moods are there,
Happy, pining, buoyant and sad?
Counting gets you nowhere,
It only makes you mad.

Every morning I get up,
With resolve to do a lot;
Every night I go to sleep with,
‘Is this all I’ve got?’

Pakistan is part of Western plan,
To keep India in check;
Today Kayani is their man,
Tomorrow it’d be another smart Aleck.

Those who can’t see,
Because they are blind;
Are still better than those,
Who can’t see because of closed mind.

Their sacrifices are in vain,
If we ever forget Kargil;
To fight like that was insane,
Yet they captured Tiger Hill.

Why do we require Wikileaks,
To tell us what we knew all along;
That Pakistan’s support for Taliban,
Took US for a song?