Nothing enthralls me anymore, Nothing surprises me anymore, I know not the depth of my own soul, nothing allures me anymore..............
Friday, September 30, 2005
nest
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
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Zindagi
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
Thursday, September 15, 2005
I am not weak
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
Thursday, September 8, 2005
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
Tuesday, September 6, 2005
Satanic Verses
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
Thursday, September 1, 2005
Death
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
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.
Monday, August 29, 2005
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
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
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
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
Friday, August 19, 2005
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
Thursday, August 18, 2005
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
Sunday, August 14, 2005
preparing for flight
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
Friday, August 12, 2005
Freedom
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
Tuesday, August 9, 2005
Will cry in the rain
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
--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial
Sunday, August 7, 2005
Lidia
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
That was how he saw Akanksha for the first time.
--
The allure of Solitude lies in it being perennial
Tuesday, August 2, 2005
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
Monday, August 1, 2005
No man can be an island
--
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
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
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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Saturday, July 23, 2005
have been thinking
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.
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--
Thought is your Enemy
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Abhimanyu
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
Friday, July 15, 2005
last standing Alcazar
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
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
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
I stop now
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
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
Monday, July 11, 2005
I am mean, cause I want to be mean
adj. mean·er, mean·est
- Selfish in a petty way; unkind.
- Cruel, spiteful, or malicious.
- Ignoble; base: a mean motive.
- Miserly; stingy.
- Low in quality or grade; inferior.
- Low in value or amount; paltry: paid no mean amount for the new shoes.
- Common or poor in appearance; shabby: "The rowhouses had been darkened by the rain and looked meaner and grimmer than ever" (Anne Tyler).
- Low in social status; of humble origins.
- Humiliated or ashamed.
- In poor physical condition; sick or debilitated.
- Extremely unpleasant or disagreeable: The meanest storm in years.
- Informal. Ill-tempered.
- Slang.
- Hard to cope with; difficult or troublesome: He throws a mean fast ball.
- Excellent; skillful: She plays a mean game of bridge.
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
Friday, July 8, 2005
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
Thursday, July 7, 2005
to sleep in peace is all I desire
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