A lover of poems

As it happens, I love poems. And short stories.
I have written a few of both, but that is beside the point.

Just yesterday, I came across this very moving poem (again). It completely moved my cheese:

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!"
...

[http://www.poeticexpressions.co.uk/POEMS/Grow%20old%20along%20with%20me.htm ]

I am missing Strato, as is to be expected. The only other person I have ever missed more is my housemaid in Mumbai. She once vanished for a full fortnight and the housing society members threatened to evict us because of the foul smell coming from our house. It also explained the dizzy feeling we got whenever we came near the kitchen door - from the other side; to enter the kitchen was a long forgotten ritual by then.

Actually I am missing Strato very much. In a fit of rage, she refuses to speak with me. Anybody who reads this and knows her email id, please do send across a soothing email to her. Anything I say right now is only going to add (rocket wala) fuel to the fire. She is smoking hot, man! (Sounds so weird without the comma, doesn't it?)

I am working at a start-up right now. Everything is closely monitored and I am enjoying my work. I am in office at 9 and leave around 7:30pm. I was hoping they would make me the employee of the year, but then, since there was no cash award, I think it is alright not to get it! Not to forget that I am a fortnight short of the 3 month duration which is a minimum to be assessed. (It just struck me as strange that assessing has got nothing to do with asses. Probably they used asses to assess in ancient times and therein lies the origin of the [species] word).

Kudos to Jarnail Singh. Next I hear he is being signed up by Nike for an ad campaign.

No songs today - mood nahi hai.