THE BALDERDASH SONG




























One chilly noon in South Mumbai
Bunshah stepped out and bellowed "chai!"
A bag of chips came out on a saucer
He cried, "tragic masala!", and pulled out his flosser

A mute spectator egged him on
"Screw that. Here, have a macaron"
And on the count of two-point-three
Produced a pack of Garle-P

Bunshah complained, "that's sugar free!"
And burst into a jamboree
If you think that's a pack of lies,
Ask Theatre Aunty...she has three eyes!

On day 2 of my A to Z Blogging Challenge 2025 campaign, I bring to you a poem in the 'nonsense verse' structure dedicated to another one of my favourite Instagram celebs, Zervaan Bunshah, simply known as Bunshah. Bunshah is a theater actor, voice artist and singer, who also creates funny reels on Instagram. As a digital content creator, he is popular for his satirical takes on upper-class and regional stereotypes.

One of my favourite characters that Bunshah regularly portrays is a grumpy and irritable artsy woman who he affectionately refers to as 'Theatre Aunty'. As you can see, I have incorporated this character in the poem.

You might want to know the context for this nonsense verse poem. Well, Bunshah had once very beautifully recited a poem titled "The Oxymoron Song" and it stuck with me. I thought it would be a good idea to compose something similar, and incorporate some of his funny characters as well as episodes from his life (learn more about his encounters with Lays and Parle G here).

Several of his reel have garnered more than 1 million views.

His Instagram URL is Instagram

The reel that inspired this poem is The Oxymoron Song

His IMDB profile can be found on IMDB

Do visit his profile and check out his content.


Hope you liked this poem. Please leave your comments/feedback, irrespective of whether or not you liked what you read. Look at it as a great way to start a conversation. Most importantly, it helps me get better.

I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z

ANYTHING I WANT














Far away from the lure of the spotlight,
In quiet solitude, always alone,
My inner showman springs to life,
In a realm I quite clearly own.

In that space I can whip up some magic,
In that cyber-verse I'm all the rage,
With my voice and my wit and my keen observation,
Over a million screens, the world's my stage.

On that stage I can be whoever I want,
I can summon and project a thousand souls,
A kiss-thirsty crooner, some ace dancefloor burners,
One man donning a gazillion roles.

Have you watched me cook noisy food bloggers?
Or roast OCD air hostesses at will?
Fans swear by my Hritik and Dhoni impressions,
There's swag and audacity, but never overkill.

Some might say I'm not made for the big screen,
And detractors might lob all their taunts,
Yet I revel in knowing that an impressionist
Can be whatever the heck he wants!

Yes, my name is Rohit Raghavendra,
And folks, I can be anything I want!

The first post in my A to Z Blogging Challenge 2025 campaign is a poem dedicated to one of my favourite Instagram personalities, Rohit Raghavendra. Rohit is an actor, a digital content creator, and a freelancing content strategist. 

Initially having started out as an engineering student, he eventually opted out to earn his Bachelor’s degree in Journalism and Mass Communication. Post his graduation, he worked at an ad agency for a year before making a foray into acting (check out his IMDB profile at the end of this post). In 2020, the COVID-19 lockdown forced him to turn towards Instagram as his primary creative outlet. And he has never looked back since then.

Rohit can do superb impressions of several celebrities - you can check his IG for reels on MS Dhoni, Hritik Roshan, Abhishek Bachchan, and several other. But besides these, what makes me a great fan is his ability to make hilarious observations about everyday people and their shenanigans, his funny take on quirky as well as strange-yet-accepted social behaviours, eccentric pop culture personalities and trends, and other relatable stuff.

Among his reels that went viral were his impression of an over-eager airhostess, which has so far garnered more than 20 million views. My personal favourites are his reels on how everyday conversations of young duded in Sanskrit would sound like, the idea of Lonavala as a holiday destination and one on LinkedIn posts.

His Instagram URL is Instagram

His IMDB profile can be found on IMDB

Do visit his profile and check out his content.



Hope you liked this poem. Please leave your comments/feedback, irrespective of whether or not you liked what you read. It's a great way to start a conversation or a dialogue. Most importantly, it helps me get better.

I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z


A TO Z BLOGGING CHALLENGE 2025 - THEME REVEAL POST











The past five years or so have been a whirlwind of change for me. A change in residence (albeit not very far from where I was previously living), change in career direction (quit my full-time job to start freelancing), helping my wife raise a growing kid, managing previously unknown health issues, and the nitty-gritties of mundane routine occupied most of my time during this period.

And when such pressing priorities take centerstage in your life, reading and writing tend to be among the first few things that get pushed to the backburner. And that's my explanation for my long absence from Blogosphere.

Time has been a very rare luxury for many of us since 2020. I won't go into details here, but when 40-plussers in nuclear families in urban settings say they are always busy these days, they aren't lying.

Technology is one of the biggest stealers of time in the world we currently live in. We are all part of an intricate digital web, where you simply cannot leave technology out of your routine. Apart from the fact that you are frequently making or receiving calls from family and friends through the course of the day, you are also constantly wading through a far bigger deluge of unknown or unsolicited calls. You also have to keep track of, retrieve, review, and pay bills over the phone or over web-connected devices. And sometimes (not very rare these days), you find yourself grappling with strange surprises and rude shocks, including online fraud attempts. Here again, you have no option but to use devices to look for solutions and go through time-consuming and really painful processes to get your problems resolved or for the sake of convincing reassurances.

Navigating through this digital labyrinth leaves you with very limited time, energy and patience for creativity and recreation. And that's why, you tend to look for frequent and short moments of fun and "time-pass" (as we Desis colloquially say) during sporadic moments of calm that we manage to find during the course of the day.

For me, personally, YouTube and Instagram served as my frequent "Adda". My safe refuge where I could watch a wide array of content, not always of my own choice, but that helped me expand my perspectives. The content that I found was sometimes funny, sometimes banal, very often silly, and on certain occasions freaky and bizarre. But irrespective of the content, they always seemed to offer a much needed distraction and a channel to stoke and nurture my creative streak.

After a five-year hiatus, I have decided to make a comeback to blogging. I was waiting for the right moment and occasion, or perhaps the right event, that would make such a comeback worthwhile and durable...at least for a month.

And the event that I have chosen to ride on to make a comeback is Blogchatter's A to Z Blogging Challenge 2025, which will run through the entirety of April 2025. 

For the uninitiated, the A to Z Blogging Challenge is a month-long blogging marathon, wherein writers, poets, and content creators from around the world, create and upload posts on their blogs on a daily basis. They are supposed to post content which bear a title that begins with/is associated with each letter of the English alphabet. For instance, I might choose to write something on the 'Abuse of AI' on April 1 because it starts with the letter A, and then write something on the 'Banality of Digital Content' on April 2 because it coincides with the letter B, and so on. While this exercise can be mentally exhausting and emotionally draining (absolutely not exaggerating here), the Challenge is creatively stimulating and offers a great sense of accomplishment. It also serves as a wonderful platform to meet and engage with other talented writers and content creators.

Given my fascination for social media and the content creators forming part of this universe, my theme for the A to Z Blogging Challenge 2025 is "A Poetic Celebration of My Favorite Instagram Pages”. I will be writing 26 poems through April 2025, each dedicated to a distinct Instagram page or personality.

Needless to say, I'm thrilled to share these poems and Instagram pages through my blog, and I hope my Instagram-meets-poetry adventure resonates with many of you.

Cheers then! And see you in April.

I'm participating in the #BlogchatterA2Z Challenge!

MARVELLOUS SIGHT


 















A Blind Man Strolled into a Garden,
And Beckoned a Boy Passing By
"Lad, I Smell Something Sweet in the Air Now...
Can You Please Tell Me What it is Like?"

"It's Candy Floss, Sir", the Boy Answered,
"It's Sticky and Swirled Round a Stick,
It's Pink as a Tulip and Fluffy as Clouds,
It's the Candyman's Magical Trick."

"I've a Coin in my Pocket", the Blind Man said,
"Here, Go Grab Yourself a Bite...
And Thanks for the Vivid Description,
It Was Such a Marvelous Sight!"

TWO MINUTES

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 29; the 29th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The topic for this month is 'TWO MINUTES'.

This post won the GOLD batom (1st position)




Butch Arnold felt his face for signs of stubble. It never felt smoother. He couldn't remember the last time he had shaved. It felt good, but only momentarily. In less than an hour it'd all go to waste. He was to die at the gallows today.

He leaned against the dirty wall of his cell, eyes fixed on the floor. He thought about how life, as he knew it, was going to end without him having accomplished his goal. How close he had gotten. He thought about how those darned detectives had gotten the better of him, just before he could have completed a milestone. What a shame! His mind dwelled upon his diary, and his eyes turned moist. He didn't notice the sound of quiet footfalls nearing his cell.

The guard stopped right in front of the door. "Dead man thinking, eh!!" he sniggered, careful not to graduate to full-fetched guffaws.

Butch raised his head. "Are we ready to go?"

"I hate to ask, it really doesn't matter much to me...", the guard stifled a smile, "...but I have to ask you something before we send you packing."

"Sure, go ahead", said Butch, eyes now fixed on the ceiling as if looking towards the heavens.

"Uhm, okay", the guard let out a long-drawn yawn that seemed to echo through the corridors of the prison. When he was done, he cracked his fingers, placed both hands behind his head and asked uninterestedly, "Any last wishes?"

Butch's face hardened. His mind immediately drifted towards something. He stood up, dusted his pants, wiped the sweat off his brow and said, "I want five minutes alone with my DIARY and a watch."

The guard suddenly froze. The wretched DIARY. The very thought of it made his stomach clench and sent a sudden shiver down his spine.

"I don't think I can do that. I can give you the watch and five minutes though."

"Whatever happened to kind gestures to a dying man?"

"Ask for something else."

"Nothing but my DIARY!!"

"I can't."

"You shouldn't have asked then!!!", Butch thundered back, his hands clenching the metal bars separating them. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice commanding. The guard was taken aback at the vulgar display of temper.

"Hey, alright...alright...relax...I'll see what I can do." The guard quickly turned around, leaving the prisoner alone once again. A faint smile returned to Butch's lips, probably for the first time since the dream he had the night before. He sat himself down, closed his eyes and waited.

About fifteen minutes later, the guard returned with a heavy book and a digital clock. He passed it through the bars. "Here you are my friend. It's 8.46 AM now. Five minutes then?"

"Alone", said Butch, this time calmly.

"Of course", said the guard, already turning away.

Butch sat down. He gently placed his diary on his lap. He ran his fingers over the cover. Legend was rife that Butch's diary was covered with human skin. The thought amused him. Only he knew that wasn't completely true.

He flipped the book open. It had initials. Each initial had a serial number as a prefix and a date for a suffix.

His eyes scanned through all the entries. It took him barely over a minute to reach the last entry.

'Sr.no. 99 - T.S. - 13th December 2010'

Tracy Scholes, he remembered vividly. He smiled as he recollected the look on her face as she lay dying.

The next entry...
'Sr.no.100 - blank'

He closed the book and his eyes, almost in perfect harmony. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't remain stranded on 99. There was only one way Butch Arnolds was gonna go down in history.

He opened his eyes again. He turned the book on its side and used his nails to scoop out the hidden cabinet it concealed. He opened it and yanked out a device with a pen at one end and a small knife at the other.

Carefully, he made the 100th entry in his diary.

'Sr.no.100 - B.A. - 23rd June 2012'

He looked at the watch. It was 8:49 AM. The guard would be back in two minutes. In two minutes he'd be walking towards the end of his journey. But he wouldn't be going with regrets. He was glad he'd found a way to accomplish his mission on earth. He'd go with a smile. Just two minutes, and he'll be done. He sat down in a corner of the cell, with his back to the cell's door. He then picked up the weapon and held it under his chin.

Just then, the guard came back. "Butch Arnolds, five minutes up?"

Butch yelled out without turning back, "You promised me five minutes! I have two minutes left!"

"Oh no you don't", said the guard, still struggling with his keys. "I'm sorry, but you're scheduled to hang at 8.55 AM. I'll have to get you going right away."

The prisoner didn't move. "Very well Mister Ashley. Let's go."

"It's Astley...Brad Astley.", he said with a wry smile, completely oblivious to what was about to transpire in the next few moments.

TWO MINUTES...to be precise.



The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.