When the God himself COMPOSED .....

He resides just streets away,
But lives wherever air has its say,
His first take, Shot him,
Not to the 15 min fame, but eternal glory,
Amidst a cut throat competition,
But still low key as if lame.
When blown, his head doesn’t weigh a ton,
When pricked down, from there will heave a piquant don,
Just like air, without confines he rules.
Wedged to ground culturally,
Let loose by language, when,
The stage is all his,
Reve(Cele)bration is all that lines up.

He owns a bad habit, of adding,
Everything to his endless list,
Now the Golden Globe looks,
Really Golden besides him,
“For India” he says, with a desire,
Lurking in him, to show….
To show the nation to the world,
Through a language most twigged,
Music,
To show India’s Bombay, as it is,
Without muddling its greasepaint in SM,
‘Jai Ho Rahman’, Surely,
The Oscar isn’t so near yet so far,
And here it will come……
And this sure fires that, he is,
God’s own Rock Song!

(written before ARR won the oscars... my way of supporting him :P )