Lost and found

Some souls are never lost
some souls are lost to be found
some souls are lost forever
a lost soul is calling out
with all earnestness
rescue me, please.....

On the highway to hell

Day after day I am struggling real hard to keep my sanity intact, I am unusually high strung at times other times I am awfully cold. I just don't know how to respond to people and stupid things make me cry. I am becoming a nervous wreck and the funniest part is that I can actually see myself going to the dogs.
how do I get my sanity back? Well this is a question each progressing asylum inmate would have asked, unless of course in cases where they didn't get any chance to think about it.
Am I depressed, probably I am, and no real work in office is not helping me either.....
Yesterday I got a phone call from someone I care about and ever since I am disturbed :-)

--
Life is a sexually transmitted disease.
~R. D. Laing

Blank

I am blank
have been this way for some time now, first there were these bouts of blankness, then things got better and I was shrouded by gloom for more time than I would care to spend brooding. So now I was completely surrounded by gloom till gloom overtook me and made me so miserable that I gave up gloom. But a strange thing happened after giving up gloom. I turned blank. I don't find any rhyme or reason to respond to anything. I want to be left alone to fend for myself, or maybe I can do with a cook, housekeeping and an assistant, who is on my beck and call.(Will prefer if it was a female, and a buxom one at that)
And I will live life comfortably never interacting with another human again.

--
Life is a sexually transmitted disease.
~R. D. Laing

Aquarius

"To you, Aquarius, I give the concept of future that man might see other possibilities. You will have the pain of loneliness, for I do not allow you to personalize My Love. But, for turning man's eyes to new possibilities, I give the gift of Freedom. That is your liberty and you may continue to serve mankind wherever he needs you." ...And Aquarius stepped back into place.

--
Life is a sexually transmitted disease.
~R. D. Laing

Nightingale and the Rose

What Oscar Wilde had to say about love

http://www.online-literature.com/wilde/178/

--
The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be.
~Douglas Adams

What am i waiting for

A strange desperation sets in again
nothing seems right
nothing seems worthwhile
there is something amiss
the will to live is gone
whatever I stand for seems despicable
I lack belief and I lack courage
I look for a way out
and see just the fatalist one
my limbs lack energy
my voice is distant
my eyes look tired and distraught
and my body turns to lead
i want to run
run as fast I can
to where? the answer alludes me
but the feet are not ready to carry me
they remain grounded, turned into stone
what am i seeking
what do I desire
what makes me want to rebel
how do I set things right
is there anything right
am I but wrong
how do i define wrong
how do I define life
definitions are not forthcoming
and I keep looking for divine intervention
what am I waiting for
what am I waiting for
what am I waiting for

No answers

How rash can rash be
how fast can I burn out
how do i become shooting star
how do I make people see
what they don't want to see
or do I have anything to show at all
the sun feels good
breeze refreshes me
fresh air fills me up
with hope and inspiration
but what good is it
when I don't have a clue
when I am lost
and want to remain lost
moments of clarity
and discontinous periods of gloom
I get high and fall flat
I get low and rise again
nothing makes sense
nothing seems right
still I have the will to survive
still I want to live
what for, no answer

Am I paranoid

climb up the stairs
on the stairway to heaven
but i will get down
and float on the clouds
don't wanna be
what I am not
trivial it might seem
the pain that is life
love will rule
or so i believe
cause will be lost
but i do not care
cause will be found
and we start again
someone is watching
or maybe he's not
is it paranoia
am i paranoid
if there is god
is he asleep
if there is good
why can't i see
why is there death
if life is precious
why do we live
if we have to die
what good is time
that is not mine
why am i lost
in the maze of life
get me the feathers
and i will make wings
and then we will fly
to a place with no stink
you saw me wasted
and thought i am waste
you saw me dirty
and thought I am filth
maybe I am
but how come you care
is someone watching
I bet he is there
but i am agnostic
is it paranoia
Am I paranoid

Hazaar Khwaishain Aisi

Once in a while we are compelled to come out of our reveries and take stalk of what is happening around us, most of the times it is some drastic event in our lives, or at times art does play its part. The purpose of art is not to be a keep of rich and mighty but to tell the world what it is all about(the world). It is supposed to be the mirror in which we are supposed to check how deranged we have become from the concept of Humanity.
I watched a very riveting movie "Hazar Khwashain aisi" today, and it brought back a whole lot of the feelings that I thought had been buried someplace. Stellar performances and a beautiful love story woven in times of turmoil and what each one of the character goes through, lot of pain and a lot of misery and the victory of human will against it all.
And the meaning of love re-defined.
shit man it was a big dose :-)

Fly

Standing on the edge
With my arms wide open
Feeling the cold wind
Stinging my face
With eyes closed and darkness all around
And then I felt a sudden glow
Opened my eyes and saw
Sun had risen in all it's golden glory.
Experienced the warmth of first rays
Rays of hope maybe
And then I realized
LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL.........
 
Jumped off the edge
And began to fly............

--
The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be.
~Douglas Adams

Dhundli yaadein

Aaj phir kuch ateet ki yaadein taaza ho gayi
aaj phir kisi ne us paar se pukaar liya
aaj phir paon apne aap
us anchali rah par chal diye
aaj phir woh ankahe prashna
seene par bhaari hain
aaj fir main gham se behis
apne aap ko khoye hue
us kshitij par dhoondta hoon
jis khistij par ek sandhya
maine bhagya ka suryast dekha tha


--
The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be.
~Douglas Adams

hurt revisited

Some hurts are best left alone
some questions best left unanswered
some answers best left unsaid
it pricks like a million needles
it bites like a million fangs
my body seems in adequate
my heart bleeds thick blood
my eyes weep tears of misery
but they don't drown the pain
I try to assuage the suffering
and make it worse
I run to the source of agony
and embrace it in my arms
Accept it as my defeat
and wail over the loss
and then I move on

He is an Island

In a desert all alone,
where there had been life once,
allured by the radiance of  solitude,
he trudges along,
stepping on fossils,
from times gone by.
Waiting for a mirage to happen,
to seduce his senses to insanity,
so that life becomes bearable.
But the pain doesn't go away,
and he breaks down and wails,
for someone to end the misery,
but no one listens, nobody can,
for he is an island

When will she fly

have hit a writers block I guess, am not finding any inspiration to write something about the world anymore, or maybe I am concentrated too much on my own world. I have to bring order to chaos somehow, bring sanity back to my life.

when will she fly
the fledgling that is a bird now
testing out her wings
tasting the first fruits of flight
leaving behind the nest
she thought would be her home for life
she is preparing for the flight
when will she fly

there is just so much hurt one can take
and she is reaching the threshold fast
heavens will cry once more
when she takes the final flight

It had rained that night
just as someone had predicted
it had poured wild
as a million angels cried
her faith was lost
and never again will she believe
things cannot last
dreams cannot come true
at least not hers
as she looks up and asks
with the eyes of a child
why me, why me, why me
the child is not yet lost
but will soon be

Just Believe

An innocent face
redness in eyes
wild tresses
made more wild
by the blowing wind
a pained expression
smile that is lost
laughter like a brook
lost somewhere for now
lost she looks
incapable she calls herself
torn by love
she questions herself
"to what consequence"
"Why did you happen"
"why did you barge in"

All he can feel is tenderness
all he can feel is her pain
His pain is pushed back to oblivion
he is ready to die
for the tenderness that he sees in her
for the sense of belonging she brings in
for the love of his life
for his soul mate
for she made him see the beauty
for she told him what love was
for she is the precious
he doesn't want to possess her
just wants her to believe
just wants her to gather her torn wings
and take a flight
he cannot make her
she is her own master
he cannot guide her
for she knows better
he just wants her to see in herself
what she forgot as a child
he wants her to believe
believe in herself
believe in her strength
he prays for her to believe

Man in the mirror

Looked into his eyes
had the slithering look of a snake
looked at his face
had the vileness of the devil
felt his heart beat
could hear the booming loath
heard him breath
had the fire of hell in them
he was the man in the mirror
and I got scared of him
the ugliest of all that live
the scariest of all that move
the meanest of all that breath
If only I could
turn him inside out
make a hide of his skin
hang his guts to dry
let his flesh rot
let his eyes by gouged
let his heart fry
and keep him alive
to bear all this agony
would he have paid
the penance in part

How much loath can I handle

Every once in a while each one of us is forced to question the basic fabric of humanity that we claim to wrap around us. I have been forced to question the very basic aspect of my existence. Today I was forced to see the filth in me. I was forced to turn myself inside out and ponder about the only stated goal that I had for life for as long as I remember
"To grow into a good human being"
And today I found myself way short of the yard stick, I am prejudiced, jealous, full of envy and hatred. I am manipulative, cheat, hypocrite and basically an asshole.
What do I do about it? Don't know for now. Really don't know except for that fact that I am feeling like low-life scum, cheap, slutty and essentially very small. I feel the whole notion of having "inherent goodness" inside me shattered. I feel l am devil's advocate, only I am not good enough for that too.
I have not felt so loathsome about myself in ages.
And nothing seems to set it right, nothing..................................

--
"Reality continues to ruin my life."
~Calvin

Voyage

Have been low since yesterday, but then feeling low is relative, there are a few things that are finally dawning on me, there are a few things that I cannot push to the back burner anymore, I have to know and only then can I decide what course my life will take. Cannot have anyone decide that for me and I have to decide things considering my own limitations.

I have limitation of being Emotionally unstable and each and every time I try to overcome it, it just pushes me back to a more deep caveran. Lets see if I am triumphant this time or not :-)

 

Delhi has been OK, the audacity of the whole thing is that I am no longer interested in Delhi as a city. Another change that has come on me.

 

anyway whatever nevermind

Delhi

Am in Delhi, the city of hearts, I practically grew up in Delhi and have a special feeling for the same. I used to say

"Delhi hai dil waalon ki, albelon ki mastaano ki"

I don't know what I would be doing here for next so many days, but if I can have my way I would like to see all the places I knew as a kid, when I was growing up, the destinations include the house of my first GF (the place of pilgrimage I guess :-) ) and my school apart form the neighborhood I lived in. then i would like to visit all the monuments that I had visited as a kid, but a lot depends on my friend Smarth. He is not too keen on all this stuff I guess :-(

Probably I will let him go to office and take his Thunderbird and go grazing in Delhi :-)

--
"Reality continues to ruin my life."
~Calvin

Zindagi

Tanhaion ko dhoondna ek bahana hai
inmein kho jaana bas ek khwaish hai
kaun hona chahta hai asiir-e-khalwat
yeh koi shauk to nahin farmaane ke liye

chahta hoon koi dhoond le mujhko
palkon pe muza' iyan kare
mere har naaz ki parwah kare
mujhe kabhi koi zakhm na de

lekin shayad yeh mumkin nahin
lekin shayad yeh mumkni nahin

is hi wiiraane main dam tod doonga ek din
yahi maayusi mera sabab hai
yahi aawaragi meri zindagi

Chuppi

aankhein sab dekhti hain
dil sab samajhta hai
unko pata hai, humko pata hai
lekin hakikat koi bayaan nahin karta

jhulas rahe hain is aag main dono
zaban pe kuch aur dil main kuch
dhadkano main kuch
saanson main kuch
phir bhi chup hain hum tum
jhoot bhi chup
sach bhi chup
lab bhi chup
aankh bhi chup
sparsh bhi chup
muskaan bhi chup
intezaar bhi chup
khamoshi bhi chup
dhadkanein bhi chup
saansein bhi chup
gham bhi chup
khushi bhi chup

What has become of me

what has become of me
in this land of nonsense
where I trivialize myself
for the notion called love

why do I expect
what is not to be
why do I desire
what is not mine
why do I seek
what I call solace
why do I live
in a fools paradise
why do I get hurt
by frivolous gestures
why do I feel the pain
over lost causes

what has become of me
in this land of nonsense
where I hawk myself
for the fickleness of love

main aur meri tanhaai :-)

Went to railway station today after a loooooooooooong time. Or was it really long, well i don't care about that, for once I was going to see off someone. And this time the experience was different, I did not relive all the farewells I have said in life, It was OK to let go, probably because I have already let go of the person in question. But more importantly I got the feeling that life still goes on. It is one thing to say it, another to really feel it.
Tomorrow will be another day, and things that hold good today won't matter maybe. things that cling on and claw at heart won't be so bad. With passing time things tend to settle down.
Getting a grip, maybe I am
but is it worth anything, well time will surely tell.
but the Horizon looks brighter than ever and for sure it helps not to live in a world of dreams. Do what you want to do, don't dream. dreams seldom come true for there is so much left to fate, there is so much left to destiny, there is so much left to others. Act on what you believe and remember that you are all alone in your quest, what-so-ever it might be.
Lessons learnt.
1. It is OK to be alone
2. It is a bliss to be alone
3. Only alone can you do what your heart desires the most


--
"Reality continues to ruin my life."
~Calvin

Trying to get a grip

A part of me seems missing, eyes search for something, soul is in turmoil......
Why I ask myself, why the gloom, why this despair, why can't I be Normal anymore. Normal the word hits me. What is normal, I don't know anymore, probably I am normal right now, I am alright right now, or am I. Don't know. It is one of those days when how so ever much I write I am unable to purge myself of thoughts. thoughts that have come to haunt me. The feeling of being a vagabond is more strong than ever. The restlessness has settled in, I feel like I am on the edge, desperately waiting for someone to push me off the cliff, so that I can fall again, for falling is only thing I know to do gracefully.
Have a splitting headache, and cannot make sense out of simple things.
Have to get out of this, have to get a grip.
Don't know how, but I really have to get a grip.......
and the worst part is that I have to do it alone :-(

I am alive

The day has been ghastly
but I have survived
the desolation desperate
like a mast-less ship
at the high seas
with the anchor lost too
just waiting for fate
to toss and turn
and throw me to a shore
but the shore seems very distant
and chances of survival bleak
but for now I am alive

Requiem for a dream

a half wept tear
a silent wail
sorrow in voice
and tremor in stride
when all turns to dust
and all is washed away
the cause is lost
and so are feelings
trivial seems love
and loath rules
when darkness is effervescent
and soul drowns deep
let me sing then
requiem for a dream

there was peace
there was hope
there was love and
there was accord
the days were beautiful
the nights were starry
the wind that blew
was cool and soothing
I could see
the moon over the hillock
i could see
the sun rise from the east
there was gloom
but it was like clouds
and you were
the wind beneath my wings
i could soar high
or so I dreamed
but all that seems distant
and I am frail
am beaten and bruised
I cannot see the horizon
and fate makes me disconsolate

I still trudge along
still seek solace
but there is no hope now
just a morbid essence
of what could have been
the dream was just a dream maybe
and as i breath my last
I want to see for once
all I desired come true
but that is not to be
but that is not to be
but that is not to be

--
"Reality continues to ruin my life."
~Calvin

Gettting over people

I have this almost suffocating fixation with a character, and the funniest part is that he is not even from my life. I call him a character, but he is a living human, who has blessed the mother earth with his presence for quite a reasonable time. This character haunted me, questioned me, allured me to the dark side of me, but never has he let me be in peace.
The question I ask myself is "How do I kill this son of a gun" how do I make him go away, how do I exorcise his ghost? But the answers are not forthcoming.
Well today of all days, I really am not keen about wasting my time writing about him, but he catches me unawares and asks me to write about him. All I share with this guy is one common link, one common link can be devastating enough to give you sleepless nights (well no one can do that to me, cause I sleep like a log), but he has given me everything short of that.
So here I write an Obituary, I am not sure if this is right, if I am even supposed to do that, but I have to kill this guy man.
Or do I have to kill myself :-)

So here it goes...........................

Indians are the keenest of lot when it comes to celebrating a loser.
Once in a while, there comes along a loser who is all encompassing in his celebration of being a loser. Today I celebrate the loss of one such loser. The guy who believed that he had guts to say "Balls to the world", but didn't have the balls to actually do it. Our eternal hero died a thousand deaths before the final one. Each one of his death taught him something new about himself, they taught him lessons of tolerance, how to deal with humiliation, how to accept that one is a loser, how to live life meek size, how to celebrate mediocrity, how to be all accepting, how to be objective, how to sell ones soul for cheap.
He also learnt how to treat people badly, but since he couldn't go the full way he left them with mixed feelings and some of them do sympathize with the loss.
to sum it all up, I would quote from Ghalib

Kahoon kis se main ki kya hai
Shabe gham buri bala hai
mujhe kya bura tha marna
agar ek baar hota

Finally he achieved what he most longed for, perfect oblivion, perfect solitude.




--
"Poetry is not turning lose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.
But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things."
-T.S.Eliot

Enjoy

Something is troubling me, don't know what, I guess I am at cross-roads again. There is a strong feeling that something is going to happen, and the worst part is that it might not be all pleasant. Life still goes on though, but there are moments of deep impact, when I loose all the thoughts positive or negative and just sulk, well not sulk either, I just don't know what I do. I get caught in this whirlwind of emotions where I feel that nothing in my life is right. I feel that I am stuck with something, with everything that has its own design, I am bound by so many reasons that I don't see any reason at all.
I guess it is time to bring in some learning from LandMark. This is how my life would be, this is my "certain future" I would languish like this all my life and there is nothing that I can do about it, nothing at all. I will loath myself always, I would look down upon myself always, I will always feel that I am not man enough to take control of my life. More so the thoughts and feelings that I have will also remain the same.
So if nothing is going to change I might as well enjoy the ride, there is no point of cribbing........
Does it help, well for this to help I really have to let the thought that "nothing has changed, nothing will change, nothing can change", settle down, settle down to the depth of nothingness and then once I have whole heartedly accepted it, I rise, as if from dead and become OK with life once again.
If you cannot avoid the Rape, lie down, relax and enjoy the fuck

--
Carry on oh hopeless mortal
try to live with hope of love
connive yourself into belief
collude yourself into yielding

Na main hota to kya hota

Remembered a couplet from Ghalib

Hua jab gham se yoon behis
to gham kya sar ke katne ka
na hota gar juda tan se
to zaanon par dhara hota


na tha kuch to khuda tha
kuch na hota to khuda hota
duboya mujh ko hone ne
na main hota to kya hota

hui muddat ki ghalib mar gaya
par yaad aata hai
tera har baat par kehna
ki yoon hota to kya hota

Final Call

the promise of peace
the fable of tranquility
the desolate landscape of desert
not even a single blade of grass
no life, just cold
come oh sweetheart of mine
come oh angel of death
and kiss my lips
take away all the pain
take away all the longing
make my solitude one with thee
let my soul take thou wings
and fly over the deepest of oceans
and fly into the burning bowels

oh angel of death
burn me on the pyre
and let the incense of burning flesh
fill up all my senses
bury me in the wet earth
and let me be crushed
by the weight of the mother earth
let me rot
and be pecked by scavengers
for I want to return
to the elements from where I came
dust to dust
fire to fire


be a true love I think you to be
and give me deliverance
oh angel of death

Premonition revisited

She is sick, she says that the situation is alarming; she says that she is not recovering anymore. I tell her don't get tense, just take it easy, she says that "you are there, why should I get tense". This registers with me. But I am incapable of saying anything else. I know she is in pain, deep physical pain, at times I feel like telling her to go. I feel like telling her to depart, relinquish her soul and be one with the source she so much believes in, she is religious.
I am not sure what are her expectations of me; a life lived in sorrow, pain humiliation, at hands of in laws, at hands of her husband, at hands of her son. She probably has no one who loved her without expecting anything. I have the premonition of a death. But I want it to be pleasant, pleasant for her. She should leave without feeling that there is something incomplete left behind. But am I to sacrifice myself for her, am I to feel responsible for her, I am not sure. At least I will try to be…..

Oh woman of suffering
Oh slave of destiny
Oh shadow of sorrow
Oh goddess of hope
Forgive me for all my indiscretions
forgive me for being a son
forgive me for being myself


--
Carry on oh hopeless mortal
try to live with hope of love
connive yourself into belief
collude yourself into yielding

Meaning of the word

Solitude, what does the word mean..

1. The state or quality of being alone or remote from others.
2. A lonely or secluded place.

Synonyms: solitude, isolation, seclusion, retirement

These nouns denote the state of being alone. Solitude implies the absence of all others: "The worst solitude is to be destitute of sincere friendship" (Francis Bacon). "I love tranquil solitude" (Percy Bysshe Shelley). Isolation emphasizes total separation or detachment from others: "the isolation of Crusoe, depicted by Defoe's genius" (Winston Churchill). Seclusion suggests removal, though not necessarily complete inaccessibility; the term often connotes a withdrawal from social contact: enjoyed my walk in the seclusion of the woods. Retirement suggests a withdrawal or retreat from active life, as for serenity or privacy: "an elegant sufficiency, content,/Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books" (James Thomson).

 

Need I say more? Perfect Solitude would mean being totally removed from the world and the people therein. It would mean no expectations, no responsibilities, just plain existence, and totally free existence. Now this is something to aspire for.

Not really, will be uttered by those who don't really understand the power this will bring in. Being able to control all your negative emotions, emotions that get in your way of living life comfortably, all these would be gone and one can live life as per his/her wishes, never ever depending on someone for solace.

This is difficult to achieve, but not impossible; this is what all the seers have achieved.

--
Carry on oh hopeless mortal
try to live with hope of love
connive yourself into belief
collude yourself into yielding

in love with the word

Why am i so in love with the word Solitude. Is it because i see it as my ultimate destiny. Because I accept, unlike some others, that solitude can be bliss too. So big a solitude that you are self sufficient in it. One would be complete in its solitude.
and when having attained it, the person walks into life, he is happy, very happy, because now he is totally removed from world. He could use people if he wanted, he could have killed if he wanted, he would have the power of being emotionless. But I guess he will choose good over evil then, and be a peaceful man, trying to make people happy.
chains of solitude is my tribute to the search of solitude


--
Carry on oh hopeless mortal
try to live with hope of love
connive yourself into belief
collude yourself into yielding

nest

Love's labor lost
A deranged nest
Twigs scattered all around
The nestlings have flown off
Some died in mid flight
Some survived the ordeal
the mother looks
at the nest in shambles
with a lonesome gaze
once there were fledglings there
her own flesh and blood
now there is just a decaying smell
that nauseating smell of loneliness

--
Carry on oh hopeless mortal
try to live with hope of love
connive yourself into belief
collude yourself into yielding

Zindagi

jis jagah ka koi naam-o-nishaan na ho
jis waqt ka koi hisaab na ho
jis lahu ka rang paani se halka ho
jis dil ka zakhm nasoor ho
jis pyar ka naam maut ho
us jagah par mera gharonda ho
us waqt ke kuch lamhe main jee loon
us lahu ko baha ke qurbaan ho jaoon
us zakhm ko main sanjo ke rakhoon
us pyar main main doob jaaon

zindagi bula raahi hai
apni hari baahein failaaye
mujhe uske aagosh main
gum ho jaana hai
uski saanso main
kho jaana hai
uski abhilashaaon ki
anubhooti karni hai
mujhe abhi jeena hai
bina mare.
jab tak main zinda hoon

--
Carry on oh hopeless mortal
try to live with hope of love
connive yourself into belief
collude yourself into yielding

I am not weak

Am I weak, no I don't think so, seriously I am not, Am I emotional, yes I am but then I can see through them too. Have been having a tough time lately, but when I look around I still feel that I am the strongest of the lot. And would always be, I should probably stop looking for stronger people, there might not be any. Each one of us has vulnerabilities, and I for one can see mine quite clearly. And have consciously decided to yield to all the temptations. If that is the case then I should be ready for loneliness, and that will happen pretty soon. Now that I think of it, I feel it would be a huge relief, for once I won't have to live up to anything, I will be free like an island. And that would be so cool. Really man I am not weak at all, just have to cross one more threshold and then I will stop feeling. I will be Ok with exploitation, with abuse, with lust, with love, with hatred, with murder, with possessiveness.
I won't have company of people who expect
I will not expect myself
I could treat people like dirt
Or I could choose otherwise
I could cherish a few relations I choose
Or I could decide to be all alone
I could go see the world
I could become highest of mountain
The deepest of sea
The rarest of air
And the whitest of cloud
And can be the serpent
Venomous and dangerous
Or the holy cow
Soft, gentle and giving
I could be the Satan
And utter satanic verses
I could be God
And create a new world
I am not weak, I proclaim
I am an animal, a predator,
On the prowl
And rest I will not
Till I taste the blood
Of all that haunts me now

Things don't seem right

I am feeling totally disconnected from whatever held me for so long, It seems that the invisible hand that was guiding me has vanished. I have the premonition of a death, and I have a wild resilience towards my own fate. And I find myself getting more and more lonely. I want seclusion right now, complete, perfect seclusion.

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Satanic Verses

Caught in devil's vice
I ask you for deliverance
the one who is evil
one whose vileness knows no bounds
the one that is the king of beasts
I give thee my soul
and ask for eternal bliss
cause I know what hell is
and am not afraid to languish there
take my quintessence
and make me a ghost
ghost of living me
and take away the fear
that I feel

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Death

A strange calm on his face
A faint recollection of past
No urge to change anything
No feeling to fight it all
No emotions whatsoever
Just an eternal calm
Knowing that nothing matters
Knowing what went wrong
Knowing that he was mean
As any other human being
Knowing that everything ceases here
But only a moment before
He couldn't really accept it
And like all mortals
Tried to evade the inescapable
Tried not to believe
That everything will come to an abrupt halt
That all his memories will cease
And he will go into a deep sleep
But this is the eternal truth
And this is what will eventually
Happen to me



--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Wail of Humanity

Wrote these a long long time ago, was going through some papers when I chanced apon these, so thought of posting them too :-)

Life was never so full
Full of enthusiasm
And sadness at the same time
Enthusiasm for what is un-conquered
The virgin territory waiting for me
All the heights I have to rise to
And saddened I am
When I see
All the blunders committed by me
All the bloodshed, all the tears
All the hypocrisy
To name some few
And I feel no right to call
Myself Humanity
'cause my past has been
anything but humane
and standing where I am today
I strongly fee and urge to end it all
But my impulses betray me
And urge me to carry on
'cause I am supposed to be optimist
'cause tomorrow might be the day
I have been looking for
For thousands of battered years.

Mother

why would one bear

if one cannot love

how would one love

if not with zeal

One of these days sitting high on pot I started talking about my childhood. Till that fateful moment I had always looked back and thought that I had a perfect childhood, but that is not the case I guess. I probably share my childhood with a whole lot of other folks, who had a similar background as mine. A generation trying to come to terms with the world around them and they bear children without thinking what would happen to these lesser mortals.

The feeling of being in-adequate,

The feeling of being insignificant,

The feeling of something being wrong,

I grew up with all of them.

 The memory that has been disturbing me most after that pot session is the beating sessions, why would someone hit a child, a child doesn't know better, a child cannot think from an adults perspective. I remember living in encompassing fear of violence, I remember waiting for the next session to happen. And somewhere down the line it just stopped mattering anymore, I still had the fear, but that never stopped me from being what I wanted to be. The vision that overwhelms me is a 6-7 year old scared kid, who is being thrown around and beaten black and blue, with all that she could lay her hands on, belt, slippers, hands.

I can feel the slaps

As they landed hard on my face

I can feel the buckle of the belt

Leave its marks on the body

But the most vivid of the remembrance

Is of her face

Which was so full of hate,

At having borne someone

Who won't understand,

The plight that was hers

The scarlet red face

The expression of annihilating anger

The way she said

"oh dead one, why don't you just die"

The moments when I will pray for death

But would be too scared to die

The way I will console myself

"she will miss me when I am gone"

The way I feared her all through my childhood

And I did leave her, she doesn't know it maybe, maybe she craves for me, on my part I understand why she was the way she was. I even think that the violent sessions were maybe on periphery of sanity. I know she wanted me to be successful, her definition of success. I know she never tried to understand me, she didn't have to.

But the screaming and ululating kid still haunts me, the scarlet red on her face and the fear and horror, with which I waited for the next dose to be served, still haunts me.

They say Mother is the supreme giver of love, a love so pure that you can go hide in its warmth.

I never had that recluse, ever.

 -- The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

answers ???

One of the first book, of any literary quality that I read was Maxim Gorky's my apprenticeships and my universities (please forgive me if you find the title incorrect, I remember just that just now). That was an awesome book, it depicted day to day life in a troubled time, time of upheaval, time of revolution, revolution that changed the world forever.  The simplicity of narration and the visual detail with which day to day life is depicted makes it a masterpiece. I now have to read his "mother", his most celebrated work to date.

I have been in quite a turmoil lately. And it has not stopped, finally I had thought that I would rest it to peace, but again it has surfaced and made me feel irritated at myself. I think maxim gorky dealt with this turmoil by living life a very normal way, never expecting anything out of life. And I feel that is the best way to go about it. The solution is not to have any expectations of any sort from life, which you have.

To be a saint,

In your own way.

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

castles in air

tide was low
sea was calm
sun was warm
and the beach was commodious
he thought to himself
"let me build a castle"
a castle so big,
a castle so strong,
that all will behold it
as a gem of sand
he dug deep
he heaved big
he carved fine
he gave it all he had
finally the deed was done

all this while
she stood and waited
for tide to rise again...

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Lost in Paradise

Born in a world that didn't seem to understand him, he was cursed into an existence that he had not asked for, let alone understands it. Expectations, a word so often used and exploited by people around him that he came to imbibe it in his own existence, expectation from life, expectation from relations, expectations from career. He had something to prove to the world that did not understand him, he had something to prove to the parents who never understood him, he had to prove to his relations that he was genuine, but operating from a different perspective.

He remembers growing up with his aspirations getting stomped out, each and every time he uttered them. He grew up with fierce determination to be his own master, someone who decides things for himself, but somewhere down the beaten track of time, he decided that he has to influence others too. There were just two things that drove him, his belief that anything under the sun can be earned, and the belief that one day people around him will finally understand. He saw her as an extension to him, not as a separate individual, he saw her as someone who will share the entire burden he has been carrying, he expected her to think his way, he expected her to be like him, and he expected her to understand. On her part she did try, but she was dealing with a whole lot more than she understood, she needed space, she needed understanding too, and she needed her wilderness to be endorsed by him. he thought it was just a waste of time and energy, all this didn't fit in his scheme of things , he knew to live only one way, he knew how to play to the audience, he had the burning desire of being the most important, the most sought after, the most looked up to. And he was willing to neglect her dilemmas, her weaknesses, her cravings for the greater good.

When he found her cold her he would wonder, what is wrong, he would want her to see his point of view, and when she would talk he would get threatened, her vision doesn't fit with his, her desires are so removed from his, in fact he would never get down to talking, because that would make him expose his insecurities, his own private war with the world around him, and how he found himself overwhelmed by the inadequacy of his existence to wipe out the random memories of depravity and feeling lost. He would stay quite, he would try to inflict the hurt that he felt, and would try to hurt her till she was at the same plane as he was, at least in terms of hurtful feelings.

The day she left, he thought "maybe it is for good", but as the time passed he realized what presence of a human being, who doesn't have hidden agenda against you, feels like, he missed that presence, it haunted him, and he realized little by little that no one can take that place, that no one had such a presence. His friends had a life that they were unwilling to compromise the way he had compromised his, his parents took him for granted, they thought that he is strong enough to handle anything, after all he is the eldest and a self made man. They did not understand the void in his life. He didn't acknowledge it either. Maybe he didn't even know his vulnerability, with so much time spent negating its very existence. He missed her, longed for her, and wanted it to magically work again.

But she had moved on, except for a bond that she felt and would never relinquish, she had moved on……………..

And he was completely lost…………………………..

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

At times, time seems so inadequate, one has to fit in everything in a 24 hours day, what if you want to live more than that...........
each and every minute that I steal
each and every moment that i feel
is so full of bliss that I don't want it to end.
not now not ever

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

preparing for flight

the fledgeling is finally turning to bird
the bird will fly away soon
leaving the nest behind
nest it called home for so long

i do this all the time, I make them take wings, I make them realize that they can fly and when they are about to fly I get more lonely then I could ever possibly realize, then I go through the gloom of havng decided my own destiny and living in agony over the fact that I do love to fly myself, but find my wings clipped, becasue I had given then to the other.


--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Freedom

I want to live, and yes I want all that is available, and no I am not afraid to be all alone. there is a certain price one has to pay for freedom, and today of all the days I am absolutely ready for that.

I don't want to cork the fountain head of emotions
let them flow free and wild
let me live for each moment
for each moment is borrowed from time
let me love, let me loath
let me give and ask for nothing
let me utter the scream at the top of my voice
FREEDOM...........

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Will cry in the rain

At times something comes out of blue like a bolt of lightning and doesn't let go of your senses how so ever strongly one might try to fight it. It claws on your heart, and keeps gnawing off..... something like this happened to me today, I don't know why but I got awfully hurt, to the point of breaking up and crying. Stupid silly me maybe, I really have to get a handle on myself, I should really follow what I preach, but then that is the whole bloody point, it is always easy to preach.
Each one of us has a bag that we have to keep to ourselves, completely and totally. I might not have that bag right now, but sure will acquire it over time. At times I take a lot of things for granted, but that should not happen, really it should not happen. Expectations, as has been stated so many times before, is mother of all evils, and really I have to wage a holy war of sorts against the evils of the same :-)

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

A Distant voice

Today morning I read something that I had written 6 years ago. I still distinctly remember sitting down with pen, paper and sudden inspiration, to write something for the play we were planning to do. I thought it would be a better idea to come up with something new instead of using stuff from long dead writers :-). So I sat down and for about an hour and a half wrote and trust me I would have gone on an on, if the thought to finish it off didn't occur to me. Today when I was reading the same piece, I felt that I can really write, I believed that I can actually be a writer and it is not just some illusion that I am entertaining.

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Lidia

He had been sick for days now, he looked out of the window, winter had descended on to Delhi, there was morning fog, with no clue of sunlight, all he could hear was distant traffic, no chirping of birds today, there was an eerie calmness. All of a sudden he felt lonely, this was a strange visitor from the past, as far as he knew he had killed this part of his, as far as he knew he longed to be lonely, but now when he was dying, he didn't want to be alone. He had been thinking all morning, wrapped in the quilt, staring blankly at the ceiling, he let all the thoughts flash by, didn't hang on to any one thought for long. But he kept coming back to her, kept coming back to the realization that he needs her, more now than ever.
He remembered the last time he had seen her, it had been 6 years ago. It had been a long time and very long and lonely time, he felt the acute urge to go back to roots, he resisted it for couple of hours, and then the realization dawned on him. He had been resisting the urge for too long, 25 years too long.
Finally he picked up the phone and called her.
how are you
I am fine, what about you
what are you up to
listen, whatever you are doing, just drop it, get on the next flight to Delhi, I need you, I don't want to die alone.
five hours later, Lidia was sitting next to his bed, holding his hands, making him feel, as always, wanted.

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Akanksha

He saw in her the virtue of an unmade mind, she was not yet decided on what she wants to be, and she was trying to figure that out, she was free. free as a bird. The way she checked out the spices, the way she smelled the fruits, the way she looked for the expiry notice on some of the edibles, all gave a semblance of calmness, tranquility that was not just skin deep, she was happy. She was oblivious to her body, for her it had always been there, she was not aware or maybe didn't care for the looks she got. she was not conscious of the leers too, once in a while she will notice them and just smile them away. she was complete in herself. She was ready for the world, she was ready to face it, and live life on her terms.
That was how he saw Akanksha for the first time.

--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial

Hopeless Mortal

Carry on oh hopeless mortal
try to live with hope of love
connive yourself into belief
collude yourself into yielding
trust me not, your old ally
trust the venomous heart you have
fall flat on your face
get up and say again
love will heal it all

I have become a cynic now
in the eyes of hopeless mortal

No man can be an island

There are times, when all of a sudden you feel that time is not on your side, when you feel that, whatever you are trying to do is not yielding what you expect. but why should one expect, why should one look for moments, why should one be dependent on another at all. These are the times when I feel that living alone like an island is bliss. They say "No man can be an island" and I want to prove it wrong ever so often.

--
Carry me oh lord of good times
to a place where wine flows like a river
where the damsels are easy
where there is sin all around
where love can be found
at the drop of a hat
let me live in the nihility
and let me rot
for I want to be the island
untouched by time and tide

getting hurt

Getting hurt is not easy, because once you get hurt it
takes so much to take the pain out of it, it takes all
your energy and all the resources to figure out what
went wrong.
And at times you just don't know why, one would like
to believe that hurt was caused by malicious intent,
but most of the hurt is caused by non malicious
genuine intent, and there lies the irony. A thing that
should be taken as matter of fact, tends to cling on
and claw at your heart, ever so often, that it becomes
difficult to breath and you have this unique death
wish of getting slaughtered to mercy then and there.
expectations are mother of all evil, why do I have to
expect anything from anyone, why do i have to expect a
friday, why do i have to expect Wednesday, why? If I
don't do that then I won't get hurt.
why would one risk everything one has, including his
soul, to try and rescue somebody's soul, but maybe it
doesn't wanna get rescued, and here in lies the
dilemma, which is built upon by passion and soul.
and the other soul seems indifferent at times.
I should just try what my soul tells me and keep doing
it, without expecting a response from other, for I
don't want to get hurt.

Save me from the eternal slaughter of time.
and preserve me in eternal sunshine of your mind.

__________________________________________________
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have been thinking

Abhimanyu, is a project that is close to my heart, really close, the story talks about the dark, sordid, emotions that I feel deep inside me.
Whatever you say, I have infact started loving the sinking feeling you get each and every time you fall a degree more. And Abhimanyu is the manifestation of this darkness, with the inherent goodness of a fallen angel.
Have to start on it pretty soon.
As soon as I am done with "love in time of cholera"
oh man this guy rocks, I mean the way he paints and era right in front of your eyes, the way the places and the people come alive, right in front of you, and you feel that you have known them from ages. he is simply a genius.
Florentino Ariza, an Abhimanyu of sorts, but not totally like him. I have fallen in love with this underdog character, a looser, so to say in life, yet who conquors all odds for delusional love of Farmina Daza. And then his fall, which has been described so beautifully that you cannot, I repeat cannot loath florentino ariza.
"he is ugly, but he is all love"
"thanks for making me a whore"
"there are two type of people, ones who screw, ones who don't"

Yesterday happen to watch "Lost in Translation"
you have to see the movie to believe it, beautifully done, Japan came alive once again to me, and I could feel myself presnt in japan once more, Bill Murray was superb, it was his performance all the way. have to recommend it to anybody who I come across. The humour of the movie lies in the simplicity of its characters, who have acted perfectly.

It was the ninth day of the war. Abhimanyu's arrows threatened the enemies like the darts of death. Wherever he set foot, Kaurava soldiers sank to the earth. Kings, who at first thought he was just a boy and lightly tried to stop him, had all to kiss the ground. Brave men like Kripa, Ashwatthama and Saindhava faced him, but even they could not stop his darts. Dronacharya himself, who had taught archery to Abhimanyu's father then stopped him. Even he was amazed at Abhimanyu's skill. The enemies could never make out when his fingers moved, when he took out arrows from his quiver, when he set them to the bow, or when he shot those darts at the target. They could only realize that arrow after arrow pierced their bodies. Sometimes we see a halo around the orb of the sun; the quick revolving bow made a similar halo around Abhimanyu's head. The Kaurava soldiers were amazed; they wondered whether there was one Arjuna or two of them in Kurukshetra. They perspired in fear. Men like Drona, Ashwatthama and Kripa also shuddered. Duryodhana saw this and sent a mighty giant called Alambusa to kill Abhimanyu. Alambusa showered thousands of arrows on the enemy. Fear spread in the Pandavas army and soldiers began to run away. Draupadi's sons, the Upapandavas, rushed to fight with the giant. He killed their charioteers and their horses. Abhimanyu went to their rescue. A terrible battle followed between Alambusa and Abhimanyu. Abhimanyu's pointed darts made the giant reel. But Alambusa created darkness with his magical power. Abhimanyu swept off the darkness with his dazzling Suryastra, the sun-missile. Alambusa ran away, Abhimanyu moved freely in Kurukshetra and wiped out the enemies like an excited elephant roaming about in a lotus lake trampling upon all the flowers. Then Bheeshmacharya himself faced Abhimanyu, to protect the Kaurava army. He showered arrows all around Abhimanyu. But Abhimanyu cut all his arrows. Arjuna rushed there to help his son. As the battle raged on, it grew dark and both the armies retired to their camps. The Kaurava army was shuddering at the very mention of Abhimanyu. On the eleventh day of the Mahabharata war, Abhimanyu again shook the Kaurava army. There was a very brave king Paurava by name. He faced Abhimanyu. When Abhimanyu shot an arrow to kill him, Paurava cut his bow and arrows with his darts. Abhimanyu threw away his bow and fell on him with his sword. He caught hold of his hair and threw him on the ground. At that moment, another famous hero Jayadratha rushed to the spot. He was also called Saindhava since he was the king of the country called Sindhu. He hated Abhimanyu very much. Abhimanyu and Jayadratha fought with their swords. Their skill and their flashing swords dazzled the onlookers. The bodies of both were dripping with blood. Jayadratha's sword struck Abhimanyu's shield and pierced it. When he pulled it back, it broke down. Jayadratha retreated six paces, climbed into his chariot, and went away. Shalya used an arrow, which emitted fire over Abhimanyu. Abhimanyu caught that arrow like a Garuda, which catches a snake falling from above, and threw it back. It hit Shalya's chariot and the Charioteer fell dead. Shalya jumped down from his chariot and fell on Abhimanyu with his heavy Mace. Abhimanyu also took his mace. By then, Bheema himself came to help him. Abhimanyu insisted on fighting with Shalya alone. But at the end he yielded to his uncle and moved away. Bheema then fought Shalya. It was the Twelvth Day of the Mahabharata war. By then Bheeshma had given up his bow and lay on a bed of arrows, renouncing war. Dronacharya was in command of the Kaurava forces. Grieved that his army was being defeated, Duryodhana went to Drona, told him of his sorrow, and also reproached him. Drona was much pained, and said: "Arjuna defeats us. If he is drawn elsewhere on the battlefield, I shall defeat the Pandavas." There were in Duryodhana's army five picked soldiers, the Samshaptakas, who had sworn either to win or die in the battle. They now invited Arjuna to fight- with them. The next day, which was the thirteenth day, Arjuna went in his chariot to fight with those sworn soldiers. Krishna himself was the charioteer. Dronacharya arranged the Kaurava army in a particular pattern known as the Padmavyooha or the Chakravyooha. To pierce this and go inside and fight was very difficult. Only Shri Krishna, his son Pradyumna and Arjuna knew how to enter and come out of the Padmavyooha. Abhimanyu knew only how to get in. Yudhishthira, Bheema, Nakula, Sahadeva, Dhrishtadyumna, his father Drupada - all of them tried to break the formation of the Kaurava army, but in vein. The Pandavas army was in distress. What could they do if they could not go near the enemy's army? The brave Samshaptakas had engaged Arjuna and detained him. Yudhishthira did not know what to do. It was a shame to the Pandavas. Bheema, Nakula and Sahadeva -- all of them bent their heads in shame and sorrow. The Pandavas army was full of confusion and anxiety. The brave Abhimanyu saw his uncle's plight. He went to him and said, "I will find my way into the Chakravyooha. Do not worry." Yudhishthira wondered very much at the courage of young Abhimanyu. But his heart would not consent to send the boy on such a dangerous task. He said, "My boy, you are very brave and possess strength and courage beyond your age. But there are experienced warriors in the Kaurava army. Can you face them? This adventure is not for you." "Uncle, I am not afraid of anybody in the battle. I will defeat them all," replied Abhimanyu. Yudhishthira tried to pacify him and said, "Only Krishna, Pradyumna and Arjuna can enter the Chakravyooha and come out of it safely. You can only go inside." "Please permit me, I will overcome Drona's Vyooha," said Abhimanyu. Yudhishthira thought Abhimanyu was right. He felt that after defeating the Samshaptakas, Arjuna might come and reproach them if they all remained helpless. So he decided to permit Abhimanyu and said, "It will be enough if you just enter the Vyooha. Bheema, Satyaki, Dhrishtadyumna, the Panchalas, and I myself will be right behind you. As soon as you break it and make a way, we will all rush in." Abhimanyu felt happy. He said, "I will bring honour to my parents," and bowed to Yudhishthira. He put on his armour, tied up his quiver, and took his sword. He put his bow inside the chariot and bowed to his mother Subhadra. His wife Uttara performed 'Arati', wishing him success. The brave young hero entered his chariot. Abhimanyu's charioteer was full of sympathy for his daring. He said: "Think it over. You are taking on yourself a great responsibility. You are still a boy, grown up in comfort and not much experienced in warfare. Drona is a great master of missiles and has won many battles." Abhimanyu laughed and said, "Does the wind sweat? Does a spreading fire fear the snow? Am I to be afraid of the Kaurava army? I do not fear anybody in a fight. Whether it is the Lord of the Universe or my own heroic father confronting me, I will not be afraid." With a heavy heart, the charioteer drove forward.  like a lion ounching on herds of elephants.  Abhimanyu  fell ont he armies of many brave men.  Mighty warriors of the Kaurava army tried to stop him.  But it was useless.  It was like trees trying t stop advancing flames.  Abhimanyu pierced  the Chakravyooha and entered inside, right in front of the unequalled archer Dronacharya.  Duryodhana and others were shocked and astonished at the prowess of this young hero.  As the Kaurava soldiers watched him, their tongues went dry, their eyes grew unsteady and their hair stood up with fear.  As Abhimanyu's arrows began to fell the soldiers, the Kaurava army stated to flee.  Duryodhana saw this and himself came to fight with Abhimanyu. The very word 'Duryodhana' means 'a fierce warrrior'. Even expert archers found it difficult to face him on the battleground.  Seeing Duryodhana poised before Abhimanyu, eminent warriors like Drona, Kripa and Kama rushed in their chariots to help him. Jayadratha stopped Yudhishthira, Bheema and others who tried to penetrate the Chakravyooha behind Abhimanyu. Lord Shiva had granted Jayadratha a boon that for one day he could check all the Pandavas except Arjuna. Thus Abhimanyu had to remain alone inside the Chakravyooha surrounded by the enemies. Hit by Abhimanyu's darts, Duryodhana tottered. Drona, Kripa, Ashwatthama and others came to his rescue and feel on Abhimanyu. Abhimanyu stopped all of them single-handed. With one arrow he pierced Karna's shield. With three more he killed Sushena, Deerghalochana and others. Shalya, known as the bravest of the brave, crumpled up in his Chariot when Abhimanyu's arrows hit him. The Kaurava army ran helter-skelter because of the boy's arrows, right before Dronacharya who had taught archery to Arjuna and Duryodhana. He was amazed, and praised him saying that he had not seen such a brave lad till then. Duryodhana was angry that Drona praised an enemy. He called Dusshasana and other warriors and said, "Dronacharya has great affection for Arjuna. He will not kill Arjuna's son. You must yourselves defeat him and put him to flight." Dusshasana said, "I will kill Abhimanyu. If Abhimanyu dies, Arjuna will die of grief. Krishna will not live after that. Nor will the Pandavas live thereafter." After the game of dice between Yudhishthira and Duryodhana, Dusshasana had dishonored Draupadi in the open court. The Pandavas hated him intensely. But he was a very strong warrior. Abhimanyu, however, did not fear him. "I got you at last - you cruel, wicked, boastful fellow! Now you will get the punishment for your wickedness. Suffer it before the eyes of both the armies. If you don't run away, you will die today at my hands." And he aimed his arrow. The dart struck Dusshasana's heart. Blood gushed out. Abhimanyu shot another arrow and Dusshasana fainted. His charioteer sped away the chariot. Seeing Dusshasana's plight, Karna rushed to confront Abhimanyu. Very few persons could equal Karna in an encounter with the bow and arrow. It was impossible for anyone's dart to make a dent in his coat of mail. He was the disciple of Parashurama who had made all kings tremble. He was a hero who could face Arjuna. He showered a hundred arrows on Abhimanyu. Abhimanyu easily cut his bow itself into two. His arrows brought the flag on Karna's chariot to the ground, and cut Karna's darts in midair. Karna's horses ran away. Seeing the chariot of the mighty Karna himself speeding away, the Kaurava army shivered with fear and the soldiers began to run away. They fell before Abhimanyu's arrows like straw burnt by fire. With the Kaurava army thus shaken, Yudhishthira, Bheema, Satyaki and others again surged forward to help Abhimanyu. But they could not get into the Padmavyooha formed by Drona. The Kaurava heroes saw the plight of their army and again surrounded Abhimanyu. Jayadratha, who had a boon from Lord Shiva, stopped all the brave warriors of the Pandavas army, so that Abhimanyu remained alone inside. Yet Abhimanyu killed the Kaurava soldiers like a whale killing the fish, Seeing his soldiers crumbling like withered leaves in the wind, Duryodhana was furious and again Opposed Abhimanyu. Drona Ashwatthama, Karna and others encircled Abhimanyu to help a master. Duryodhana's son Lakshana rained numberless arrows on Abhimanyu. The fight again grew fierce. Abhimanyu faced the Kaurava hero like a lion's cub fighting with trumpeting elephants attacking him. He shot various missiles. Arrows struck one another in mid-air and fell down burning. Horses ran hither and thither, unable to bear the pain. At last unable to bear Abhimanyu's arrows, which struck him like fire, Duryodhana also took to his heels. Abhimanyu's arrows cut off Lakshana's head. Drona, Ashwatthama and Karna turned their chariots back. The Kaurava army was in utter panic. Karna said to Drona, "Acharya, how are we to conquer this brave lad?" The Acharya said: "Karna, is it possible to face him and win? His fighting skill is flawless. This gifted son of Arjuna is a lion among men. Arjuna is really fortunate. See how nimble Abhimanyu's hands and fingers are and how he himself moves about like lightning. As his chariot moves, we can only see his bow in circular form and nothing else - we do not see him pull the string, we do not see him shoot the arrow. I am suffering pain all over my body because of his piercing arrows. This youngster humbles me. And yet the skill of his hands fills me with happiness." "It is cowardice on the part of a warrior to run away from the battlefield and that is why I am still here," Karna confessed. "Wherever his arrows have struck me, it is like a ball of fire." Drona: "Abhimanyu is still a boy, but he is a very great hero. It is impossible to rip his armour. We can win only if an expert can cut his bow. If you wish to do it, you must strike when he turns back, When he has his bow in his hands, no one can face him and, overcome him. Break his bow, and then, from behind, smash his chariot." From behind Abhimanyu, Kama shot sharp arrows aimed at the lad's hand. Abhimanyu's bow was broken. Simultaneously Bhoja killed his horses. Abhimanyu's chariot could not move. Kripa slew the guards. Six mighty warriors - Drona, Karna, Kripa, Ashwatthama, Brihadbala and Kritavarma surrounded the young hero and attacked him. Abhimanyu had no chariot and no bow. And there was no one at all to help him. But the brave Abhimanyu did not fear or despair. He jumped out of his chariot holding his sword and shield. Even as he jumped, Drona and Karna broke his shield. Abhimanyu jumped to the ground, pulled off his chariot wheel and with it attacked Dronacharya. The enemies all around him rained arrows on him. The wheel was broken into pieces and the fragments scattered around. Abhimanyu picked up his mace from the chariot and pounced upon the enemies. The brave boy was standing on the ground; and yet the warriors in the chariots had to retreat before his onslaught. Dusshasana's chariot and horses were crushed. Dusshasana's son took his mace and confronted Abhimanyu who was smashing the encircling enemies with his mace. Both were young, heroic and determined. The fight was terrible like the clash of two maddened elephants. Both of them fell down, unable to bear each other's blows. Abhimanyu was already tired, having fought with many an enemy hero for along time all through the day. Dusshasana's son recovered earlier and got up quickly. Even as Abhimanyu was getting up, his enemy hit him with his mace. Unable to bear the blow, Abhimanyu fell down. The soul that supreme hero left his lovely young body. Blood spilled all round and his strong body became covered with mud and dust. But his fame lives and Abhimanyu has become another word for boundless daring.		About Veer Abhimanyu Introduction Subhadra's Child To Indraprastha and Back Fight With Ghatotkacha "Bheema- sena's Son!" Marriage With Uttara Brave Abhimanyu

--
Thought is your Enemy

Abhimanyu

one had destiny hurled on to him
while he was still in womb
other had destiny splattered on him
the moment he fell for her
one was charming, young and exultant
when he died
other was inert, old and withered
when he died
both knew half the story
both were ruled by calamity
both were warriors in their own right
both were called Abhimanyu

Both died all alone
far from madding crowd
far from loved ones
both the demises were celebrated
by the vanquishers
both the demises were commiserated
by the one left behind
both of them chose the path
on which they were to tread
never knowing that
It was always meant to be
both were called Abhimanyu

--
Thought is your Enemy

last standing Alcazar

rotten wrought iron gate
opens to a compound in decay
nature trying to encroach
on what was stolen from her
the dilapidated walls
the creepers gone haywire
the smell of bereavement
the stone bench
covered by moss
no place to sit
no place to stand
no place to relive the glory
no place to feel again
the alcazar is in ruins
the alcazar of someones dreams
it once knew the best there was
it once was adorned by love
once it knew peace too
but now in its annihilation
it has no one dwelling
except for a few
casual, bemused or sentimental visitors
who come back
looking for their past
but the alcazar never cries
never heeds to sorrow
never screams
It has lived its day of glory
and still stands tall
welcoming all and none
with the same warmth
as it always did

--
Thought is your Enemy

Can't keep any word of mine

Thought I had said enough, but what the hell, am back again.
Yesterday I discovered that I am most tuned for Satanism.

Your beliefs most closely resemble those of Satanism! Before you scream, do a bit of research on it. To be a Satanist, you don't actually have to believe in Satan. Satanism generally focuses upon the spiritual advancement of the self, rather than upon submission to a deity or a set of moral codes. Do some research if you immediately think of the satanic cult stereotype. Your beliefs may also resemble those of earth-based religions such as paganism.

--
Thought is your Enemy

I stop now

All good things come to an end..................
so does this blog now
don't think I will post anything new here

So long and thanks for all the fish

--
Thought is your Enemy

Dheere Jalna

Dheere jalna
teri ek jhalak ke liye tadapna
dikh jao to dhandkano ka rukna
jeene ki abhilaasha na rakhna
dheere dheere jalna

apne aap main simat kar
tumhaari yaadein sanjona
khuli aankhon se sapne dekhna
ghadi ghadi apne aap ko dandit karna
dheere dheere jalna

door veerano main tumhein awaaz dena
us awaaz ki goonj ko sun kar
apni tanhai ka ehsaas karna
tumhari pukar ke liye jeena
dheere dheere jalna

tumhein sabse chupa kar
apni saanso main pirona
aur jab koi pooche
to tumhaare wujoood ko jhutlana
dheere dheere jalna

apni khwaishon ka gala ghot
is marusthal  main pyasa ghoomna
tumhaare chale jaane ka darr
aur tumse hi chupna
dheere dheere jalna

kyon jal raha hoon main
apni hi aag main
kyon jhulas raha hoon main
apni hi bandishon main
kyon nahin jee leta
jaise jeena chata hoon main
shayad yeh jalna
achha lagta hai mujhe
yahi mere jeevan ka
sabab hai shayad
dheere jalna.



--
Thought is your Enemy

I am mean, cause I want to be mean

Is it ok to be mean ?
adj. mean·er, mean·est

1. 1. Selfish in a petty way; unkind.
   2. Cruel, spiteful, or malicious.
2. Ignoble; base: a mean motive.
3. Miserly; stingy.
4. 1. Low in quality or grade; inferior.
   2. Low in value or amount; paltry: paid no mean amount for the new shoes.
5. Common or poor in appearance; shabby: "The rowhouses had been darkened by the rain and looked meaner and grimmer than ever" (Anne Tyler).
6. Low in social status; of humble origins.
7. Humiliated or ashamed.
8. In poor physical condition; sick or debilitated.
9. Extremely unpleasant or disagreeable: The meanest storm in years.
10. Informal. Ill-tempered.
11. Slang.
    1. Hard to cope with; difficult or troublesome: He throws a mean fast ball.
    2. Excellent; skillful: She plays a mean game of bridge.

I say yes it is OK to be mean. it is ok to think for yourself just, it is ok to be taken over by dark side. I have been told that good and evil are always at loggerheads. I have been told that eventually the good wins. there are so many stories to site the same, but I don't see that happen in this world. Anyway that is not an excuse for being mean,
I want to be mean, because I want to be mean, because there is no other way of existence that will soothe my nerves, there is no other way of existence which will make me feel wanted, there is no other way of existence that will make it worthwhile.
I don't want to be a saint, because I don't want my intentions to be questioned. Hordes of folks question Gandhi, but all of them are certain about Hitler. They all know Hitler was evil, but are hell bent at proving "Mahatma" evil.
If I proclaim I am evil, I am devil's advocate, all those who come near me are at their own risk. They are on their guard, they won't let me manipulate them, they won't let me hurt them, that is if they have brains enough. And if I am an evil greater than their senses can handle, I will still rule, but won't have any guilt about it.
Guilt is what makes life miserable, guilt is what ruins the fun out of stealing, being what you want to be. All of us were born to be free, but we enslave ourselves into the society and the norms of morality due to guilt. Right from the time one first feels that something bad will befall him/her because of the "bad" he/she has done, to the last dying moment, when they are hoping for heaven, guilt rules them and kills them.
If we learn to kill this guilt we would have learned how to live free.
I love people around me, but I love myself the most, now If I feel guilty about it, as I did or maybe still do to some extent, I will make my life miserable, each and every liberty that I take for myself, will result in a greater leverage I will be giving to guilt. and I will try and submit to people around me because of this, each and every time taking away the very freedom I craved for.
They say freedom is not for free, agreed, fully agreed, it is at expense of guilt. And If I kill the guilt, in some eyes I will become an Animal, but I will like to define it as freedom.
To relinquish the guilt it is not necessary to unburden your self and offer penance, to relinquish guilt you just have to set the perspective right and think what was important for you. and each day wake up and decide what is important for you. Each day do what is important for you. Live for today, the present, don't even worry about future, forget about past completely.



--
Thought is your Enemy

North wind

oh north wind
I can feel you again
cause I am a gypsy at heart
take me away this year
to a place where people smile
where there is no one senile
there is youth
and there is hope
take me there
and let me be intimate
with the feeling of bliss
that haunts me so much

oh north wind
take me in your wings
and let me fly with you
cause I am a gypsy at heart
let me fly high
let me fly low
let me dive into water
let me rush up the mountains
let me fly along
with people like me
people or a run
from this horrid world

oh north wind
carry me as the twigs
as the leaves and dust
as the odor of the wet earth
cause I am a gypsy at heart

--
Thought is your Enemy

to sleep in peace is all I desire

the music doesn't seem right anymore
the songs seem all the same
breaths that I take
feel like herculean tasks
to keep my eyes open
and to think
makes me wish
I could be a vegetable
feels I am in a coma
feels everything is a dream
a nightmare
that I am unable to wake up from

I get chased down by demons
I get raped by emotions
I get defiled by feelings
I get debauched by guilt
I get castrated by desire
I see gloom all around
I feel myself breaking
into a million pieces
with each piece
questioning its authenticity
I feel I am in coma

to sleep in peace is all I desire
to sleep in peace is all I desire

--
Thought is your Enemy

rains are here again

rains are here again
I am surrounded by hues
of blue and grey in the sky
with sunlight filtering in sometime
the earth has wrapped herself
in the fabric of flaura
and fauna has not stayed behind
the buzzing of the wings
of a small insect
the smell of wet earth
the feeling of dampness
everywhere around
and the intensity with which
I welcome sun some times
i see the wet stray dog
looking for shelter and warmth
children of the street
dancing in the rain
huddled close together
seeking a shelter
at other times

I stand with my arms open
my eyes closed
my mouth open
with my toungue out
trying to taste and cherish
the rain drops as they fall
wet to the last dripping bone
I am one with elements
of water and earth
rains are here again

--
Thought is your Enemy

don't want this world of yours

to wail uncontrollably
to sob till it hurts
to beat myself till I go numb
and can't feel the senses anymore
to lie naked on a bare floor
with no recollection of passing time
to be kicked again and again
and then left to bleed
and vomit my own blood
to feel the padded walls
so that I don't break my head
that is how it feels
to live in the practical world

Don't want this world of yours
don't want the hurt anymore
let me dream
and have that twinkle in eye
let me love
and feel complete
let me live
and breathe free
let me lie and steal
and rescue my soul




--
Thought is your Enemy

allured, I am, by the dark side of the force

I think I have finally buried the ghost that haunted me for better half of last month. Finally I figured out that there is no point of being self critical beyond a certain point. Being self critical won't allow you to live in peace and if you follow what you interpret out of it, you won't be in peace either.
so have no self doubt, no guilt, no fear, and when you have killed these you become your own master. Maybe an Evil one, but then who cares.
Good and Evil are relative, People say that absence of good is evil, I say there is nothing called goodness, we defined it ourselves and think that it works most of the times, but then if goodness is so apparent then it should rule, in reality it rarely does.
My good friend will say "that is because we have not yet gotten on to that level of consciousness" I say, "If we have not, I don't even care about it, I was born in these times and let me try the best that is available, and no I don't believe in self denial, that is like enslaving yourself, I don't want to serve anyone except for the masters I choose. This is my small tribute to Human ego"

--
In the end, it doesn't even matter........

take me out
and cut me into tiny pieces
and let them be strewn all over the place
cause i feel torn
take out my heart
and carve in it
the choicest of blasphemy
cause i don't know peace
sheer me and make bow down
under the weight of hundred pound iron
cause i know defiance
slaughter me the very last of me
and make me orb of pulp
and crush my bones and mind alike
cause I know desire
smother me and let me drown
and get eaten by the slimy scavengers
cause i know pride
strip me and show the ugly me
for the world to judge
and prosecute and crucify
and then stone me to death
cause i know love


--
In the end, it doesn't even matter........

I am torn

I look around
i see things that I don't have to
I feel things that are sacrilegious
i do things that are desecration
i can't breath anymore
I can't smile
I can't laugh
I am dragging a dead corpse
everywhere I go
and the corpse is mine
I am a dead man walking
I am torn

Don't know what to say anymore
don't know where to go
feel like running far and fast
before the corpse starts to stink
before the stench becomes un bearable
before flesh starts to rot
before my mind becomes a vegetable
but my feet have become of lead
my heart has ceased to beat
the way it used to
I don't have any dreams left
and everything is getting shattered
I am torn

feel i should finish this all
look into those eyes
eyes of Apocalypse
and pray them to take me away
on the wings of death
to a far off place
a place called hell
a place where I will finally belong



--
In the end, it doesn't even matter........

this is the end

I think I have finally decided what I want. the choice is not tough, though it asks a lot of me, but the realization that I have to kill myself the way I know it has dawned on me.
Freedom comes with a price, in my case it is loneliness, My mistake to open my mouth, don't have to do it anymore, I just have to keep it shut, shut with a big duct tape wrapped around it. I am evil and nothing inside of me is capable of any goodness. So just keep shut, don't challenge people don't interact with people, just be alone. no more sunday sermons, no more sermons on the hill.
kill and submit yourself to everybody around you, don't have to think anymore, don't have to feel anymore, just shut myself off from all the illusions. There is nothing called miracle, there is no dream, just an empty and meaningless life that I have to submit to, but I think eventually it would ease the pain. There is no point to anything, no cause or means is good enough to stand up to. every cause is relative, when Gandhi can be blamed for being an asshole, I am definitely an asshole, and I don't have to brag about being one.
nobody will accept or even try to comprehend what I am thinking, explain and I myself will land into dilemmas, senses lust for things that are not required, instincts lie, so don't submit to them, never.
and if you feel the sorrow, bow down and submit to the notion of god and pray for deliverance.............
that is what I have to do, kill myself completely, cause the basic belief that I had, that I have some inherent goodness in me, has come crumbling down. I am a sick asshole, a sick, very sick human being, or rather an animal. And nothing I do is going to change that. So I will heed to silence and submit my soul to the purgatory and let my requiem play loud.
finally to quote from one of my idols, Jim the fuckin' Morrison

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again

Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land

Lost in a roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain, yeah

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die

This is the end



--
In the end, it doesn't even matter........

ek gharonda ho

Us pahad ke pare
ek gharonda ho
jo ki taaron ki chaon main
chandni ko lapete hue
mujhe apni aur pukaare
aur ek thake hue yoddha ko
ek lamha ruk kar araam de

us pahad ke pare
ek gharonda ho
bahar ek bada peepul ka ped ho
us ped ki shakaon pe ek jhoola
jo ki hava ke jhaunko se hil raha ho
aur ek  lakdi ka jangla ho
jo ki prakriti ko bahar rakhe
prakriti ka ho kar bhi
aur us ghar ke baramde main
main baith kar kuch chain ki saans le sakoon

us pahad ke pare
ek gharonda ho

us gharonde main kuch yaadein hon
kuch logon ka aks ho
har deewar, har darwaaza koi dastaan kehta ho
har pag par main itihaas ke sammukh hoon
uther woh royi thi
ither usne mujhe daanta tha
uther woh jhagdi thi
abhi bhi uske hasne ki awaaz
aangan main maano goonj rahi ho
us ghar main chahe main akela hi hoon
lekin yeh ghar mujhe jeene dega
mujhe yaadon main jeene dega
woh mere jeevan naamak marusthal main
ek mrigyatrishna ki bhaanti upasthit hoga

us pahad ke pare
ek gharonda ho



--
In the end, it doesn't even matter........

why do i let it get away

why do i let it get away

I know it is just an urge
I know it just a thought
I know it is just a dream
but why do i let it get away

I know i will have to justify
defy, and be a non conformist
if i were to let it get away
and fly with its wings open
dancing all around me
making be believe that
being alive can be magical
but still i let it get away

I can't think a moment with out it
that is why maybe i let it get away

--
"would you make the dreams come true?" she asked,
"Do you want them to come true ?" replied he
"yes"
"Then realised they would be, just believe in them, completely".

Sin City

Watched SinCity yesterday,
This is adaptation of Graphic novel and hence the movie is veru stylised with lots of volience and lots of gore.
but I didn't like it that much, it talks of a society that has decayed so much that blood gore and raw strength becomes the norm and survival of fittest means a whole different ball game.
The characters are very two dimensional, I felt that they were not developed, there is no excuse given as to why they are the way they are. the movie is stylised, but that is not all that one looks for. the star cast is very heavy and almost everybody gets lost in the mayhem.
Though the start of the movie was very promising, with strong narrative, and signature style, but the whole thing fizzles down, because I didn't find much substance in the voilence, but just for the heck of it.
A movie that can be avoided, if not for the technique used to bring the novel onto screen


--
races condemned to one hundered years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth.

Aah ko chahiye

This is what Ghalib says.
Heis one of the best poets I have ever read

Aah ko chaahiye ik umr asar hone tak

 

Aah ko chaahiye ik umr asar hone tak
Kaun jeetaa hai terii zulf ke sar hone tak

 

Aashiqii sabr-talab aur tamannaa betaab
Dil kaa kyaa rang karun Khuun-e-jigar hone tak
[sabr-talab=patient]

 

Ham ne maanaa ke taGaaful na karoge lekin
Khaak ho jaayenge ham tumko Khabar hone tak
[taGaaful=neglect/ignore]

 

Gam-e-hastii kaa 'Asad' kis se ho juz marg ilaaj
Shamm'a har rang mein jaltii hai sahar hone tak
[juz=other than; marg=death]

--
Arise, awake and stop not, till the goal is achieved.

~Vivekanand