i am

memories of The Warped Mind

2011-06-10T12:18:00.000-07:00

often people call me the 'warped mind'.
well they are not exactly wrong in saying so. surely those who know me will agree. though me being warped haven't given people much of a reason to love or hate me. things have been the way it was.

once very long ago, when i was still an animal (not that i have changed much but now i look less like them). i remember how i fixed my prey. though my memories are a bit blurred as it was a long long time ago.

vaguely i remember the darkish room. with a dusty jute carpet. and there i lied with my prey. i was a bit wild not like a tiger or a lion, who come in the open chase the prey and grab it by the neck. my wildness had always been of being scheming i would say. hiding in the dark alluring the timid innocent deer or goat for that matter.

yes she reminds me of a goat ready to be slaughtered. a goat not knowing why the butcher is being nice and feeding her well, falls in love with the butcher. starts treating him like a savior. well i wasn't even a butcher. i never feed her well.

that day reminds me of being a nameless creature hovering around a half dead goat to die and then bite in to the flesh.

the dark skin in even a darker room gleamed as a short stroke of sunlight fell from a half broken window. a trickle of sweat over the timid eyes is what i can still remember.

would look up in to the sky to see big birds with bigger wing span gliding overhead for the same goat to die. i would lick the salt and smell the body in anticipation of death in anticipation of being the first one to dig in.

though i don't remember how many years have passed by, what i remember is that the clock was ticking by. a game needs to be over in a given time or else it starts tasting stale. i didn't want to bite or bark and kill my prey rather let it die a slow death by loss of blood, love and trust. i guess i thought that this slow death will keep the flesh a bit warmer and fresher for me to savour till it lasts.

somewhere it took a long time to die and i couldn't gather courage to eat her up alive. i kept on walking around for a long time...

...the day turned in to a night and then another day but she did never die. and i could not gather courage to eat her up alive. somewhere in the middle the thirst, lust and hunger drained me away.

much later i woke up, probably after years i woke up. it seems today i woke up to see the bones of the goat scattered around and a small bit of flesh hanging from the beak of the big bird now sitting on the branch of a dead tree. with the wings folded as if a gesture of satisfaction looking at me. mocking me.

i get up start walking towards the nearby village to find another timid goat. a goat i can allure.

why

2011-06-10T12:09:00.000-07:00

"why" a simple three lettered word.
it can be lethal.
it can make you think.
it can make you change your perspective.
a simple word 'why' can push you to bullshit your way out.
or be honest and say all that you never wanted to.

at times i hate it so much.
but yet again it's beginning of an end.

who knows it may haunt you.
who knows it may push you to perfection.
who knows it may prompt you to write a blog.

yet you go without an answer to the 'why'.

the act

2011-06-10T06:55:00.001-07:00

Sweat was trickling down her neck as if a drop of red wine slipped down the neck of a dark coloured bottle and gradually all the way down the smooth glass (a bottle which had just been stripped of it’s old withering label). The room lay heavy with the sweet smell of sweat mingled with that of overhanging smell of smoke of some cheap pack of cigarettes which lies empty under the ruffled bed. This smell of smoke I am not exactly in favour of, for me it dilutes the effect of the act of making love. It just reminds me of this whole thing being a cheap act of love. Well, one has to bear that smell as it was not a part of the deal to get a non-smoker tonight. And to top it all after the negotiations I made to get the best deal for the night, I doubt I have the right to ask for favours of asking her not to smoke. Though lot of people maybe in favour of smokers this is not about anyone else but about me. Otherwise the whole act was perfect. She almost made me believe that it was not “paid for” but as if she was making love for real. Tomorrow she will be acting the same act with another man like me.
The night is yet not over and it’s all paid for. Whats the point of lying next to her and watch her while she is half asleep, her warm body in a warm summer night. tomorrow she will be with another one playing the same act. or should i just let go and fall in love even if it’s for just for the night, why be scared of the morning to come. tonight she is mine. her body, her love all is mine.
i know it’s not true but still i’m imagining as if i saw love in those eyes. i know i am drunk and imagining. have paid for the body not those eyes. maybe that’s the way she satisfies her clients to make an extra buck. tomorrow she will act the same cheap act in yet another cheap hotel with another one like me.
couldn’t stop went closer held her tight, as if inseparable in love. atleast tonight she is mine. she lies motionless. soundless as if there is no end to the silent night. tomorrow she will act the same old act with another man looking for love at a lower price. her sweat has mixed with mine as i hold her tight. i know i am wrong but still felt as if she kissed me softly on the back of my hand as i lay still, half asleep holding her tight. the fan hanging from the ceiling makes this creaking noise mixed with the train passing by. no clue when i went off to sleep. slept as if i sleeping in the arms of my lover.

He held me tight as if he was scared of losing me tonight. i know i am imagining that he kissed me softly on my neck before he slept that night. his body was shivering as he came close to me that hot summer night. hope he gets the best out of the night. he has paid me for my body still i can imagine love in those tired dark eyes.
i know he wants nothing but value for his penny. still i believe it to be love though it’s just for the night. i hate cigarettes but no harm if that makes him feel good to be with a cheap whore in a cheap smoke filled night. i am happy to have my make belief love for atleast one night. tomorrow he will be in another motel with another woman paying her for another smoke filled act of cheap love.

i woke up early in the morning to realise she is already gone. checked my wallet to be sure she left with only what the deal had been, since a deal is a deal. though i wish this was love for sake the of love and not money.

i walked out in the morning before he would get up, didn’t want him to see love in my eyes. i wish this was love for sake the of love and not money. hope i meet him another night and we end up in another act of love.

flashes of memories

2011-02-07T12:15:00.000-08:00

a little. sharp beam of fresh sunlight fell on her dark brown skin. the skin already layered by a thin sheet of wintry sweat. wish i knew the guy who has some control over time, would have asked him to pause. or was it stopped for a short while, i think i remember everything else staying motionless in that dark room except for our minds perhaps. who knows what was the truth, or is it all my imagination.

blurry images still keep flashing, though there is no way to stop and watch it again. all i am left with is smell of salt in the cold wintry sweat.

forgotten wounds

2010-03-22T11:09:00.000-07:00

Darkish brown,
thick,
the caterpillarish looking scar on her body.

I touched it to see the remains of some forgotten wounds.
Probably forgotten but not forgiven.
Is that why she wants to carry the thick ropelike, dried, dead scars on her back. By touching them i can feel that they are not dry neither are they dead. With the first touch i could hear them hiss as if they hated my smell. Like serpents full of venom just that you can't see there little fangs. As they lie skin deep, deep like some secret about the past. The more these little creatures slither beneath her wet sweet sweaty copperish burnt brown skin, the more i want to pet them. The whole knowledge of their hatred towards my wicked sly touch becomes a thing of joy for me. the more they want to run away the more i tickle them. i am sure my muse-their keeper never knew that they were alive.

i ignored, i walk past, leaving them to themselves for a while. let them nurture the hatred for me. let them feed on the hatred for me.

but not for long. soon i touch them again. they grow wild. try to tear the skin apart, the brown skin starts growing maroonish in colour, the serpents want to tear the skin apart.
they want to fill the room with their hatred to me. they just hiss and they slither within the warm sweaty skin of hers.

but not for long, finally their fangs come out, out in despise. venom filled fangs dash at me. i could see hatred in front of me not as an emotion but as a being. i could have run away from the fang, i could have run away from the venom, but i stood there mesmerized and tried poisoning it by letting my fangs dart in their way.

we let the fangs meet the fangs...
and let venom run through both our bodies.
let one venom kill the other.
let hate kill hate.

we take a pause...
now her eyes are closed,
now the illusion is reality
and the venom is bitter no more.

sardonic smile

2008-05-03T11:09:00.000-07:00

I being of such a calm nature,
A lover of beauty and creatures.
In all my life had never been tempted to even do the minimal damage to anyone.
That actually means all my life till then,
Yes till that night,
When I picked the knife and cut through the throat of that unhealthy unhappy yet pretentious man.

Pretence is one thing I hated,
But never to that extent.
Let me recap the day and tell you this story.
The day I lie in pool of blood not knowing what to do next.

Tell you about this man.
At days at stretch I saw this man smiling
always with a sardonic smile on his face
A thin plastic smile.

And as I said I always hated pretense.
So the feeling of eeriness started building into repulsion.
And repulsion into obsessed hatred.
Every time I saw that grin on his face.

Although I knew it well the pain this man went through everyday,
Knowing all this I could never find a logical explanation to this pasted smile.
After almost twenty nine years of observation,
I could no more keep the feeling to just myself feeling.

It all started when I saw my beloved in bed with a stranger,
I felt disgusted walked to the bar
got sloshed,
wasn’t able to pay
got thrown.

Managed to get back home,
Felt sick,
Went to the loo,
Puked,
Pissed,
Turned back
Yes that was when I saw the sardonic smile again.
Couldn’t think of anything but to get rid of it,
Now or never.

It would be easy.
I picked up my razor
Pierced it near the left ear
Through the throat and the forehead (with a lump of hair)
Back again to the ear.

It was really easy to peel of the mask,
Once and for ever,
Now nothing lies between the mirror, and me
I could clearly see…
the sad grim expression (as I always wanted to see)
could see…
the eye socket with one eye
the nostrils.
the cheek bones.
But no more the sardonic smile.

I’m now lying in puddle of fresh warm blood,
With the last few breaths to go.
But still I’m happy,
No more the sardonic smile.

the monster

2008-05-03T10:27:00.000-07:00

I’ve created a monster,
Now it’s becoming difficult for me to feed him,
I don’t have the courage to kill it.
Since it wasn’t it’s fault,
that I created it to prove my mind.

What should I do,
How should I feed it.
What happens to it.

Soon people will come to know,
Soon people will ask me why,

I am scared of it to die
I’m scared of it to live

Can anybody help me
Can anyone understand my pain
Can u get my logic
Can a u read my mind

He’s so dear
he’s so innocent

but he’s a monster.
He has to die
And I have to live…

dark walls

2007-12-05T00:36:00.000-08:00

i was getting frozen between the walls of darkness
a single step forward would take me to darker spots.
but surely if darkness is like a wall,
what is there beyond the wall,
i need to find out,
what if there was no dark walls,
what would the ray of light be brighter than,
if the tunnel was not dark how would the spot of light on the other end be seen
and be aspired to be reached.

if i were not to hate the darkness,
how would i cherish the sunlight.

that one moment of standing between the dark walls and thinking about it's presence
gave me reasons enough to worship the darkness.
to understand that getting into the darkness is like completing the cycle.

mannequins

2007-11-26T05:24:00.000-08:00

Standing in the dark corridor, I could have never imagined that soon a door will open to such a colourfull world. I was almost pushed through the dingy bylane and through the half open and half closed door. It took my eyes a while to get used to the darkness inside.
I kept going up the steps, guided not by light but sounds. Sounds of laughter and some music.
Music which I had heard in the past but could not relate to. Music which made no sense in this darkness. Music which was being overshadowed by some sounds of voices. Voices so gay, so open, but voices yet so dark and corrupt.
Through the narrow steps reached a bit broader opening yet another corridor with mysterious rooms on both sides. From one small gap in a rooms door I could hear some muffled voices and see some muffled music being shadowed by some dark silhouettes thumping on the floor.
Crossed the door, crossed another one, crossed yet another one. And reached an open one to welcome me. The sounds inside gulped me instantly. Even if I would have shrieked nobody would have heard or bothered, probably not even me myself.
The room had lights which made my skin change its colour. Lights. Came and went, came and went. The fog cleared up. And I saw the people all around the room in a regular circular arrangement on couches smelling of last night.
Last night would have been similar just maybe another set of people. People probably keep changing but the ritual remains the same, the reason remains the same. To get to touch or smell or feel the darkness of their own souls. The soul which always wants more. The soul which always wants to explore. The soul which is always over ambitious.

In the middle of the room was a large display stand. Mannequins draped in reds and pinks and saffrons, were on display. But right now they were not selling the drape but the flesh hidden behind the drape.
A bit of exposure. A tapping of foot. And a short smile on a powdered face. The mannequins were moving slowly with the beat of the music.
Little by little their body would move. Little by little the people around would hope to get a bite out of the flesh. They would lure the display in hope of touching them. Or atleast touching them in their secret fantasies. Their drunken eyes were almost looking through the flesh.
They would lure with money. The mannequins would move closer… snatch the money and fly back to their assigned display area.

Through the crowd in a far of corner the lone musician is singing karaoke breaking the silence of the lustfull night.

The game keeps on going on. The musician whom nobody notices keeps on singing. The women keep on getting the money to tap their feet and pass an occasional sultry smile to one of the admirers. The admirer who can see behind the drape or atleast fantasise.
And hope keeps soaring high.
Hope for money
Hope for flesh
Hope for someone to listen to my music…

no one wins
no one loses
and the game continues…
leaving behind the stench of another night.

Outside in invisible letters now I can read “the dance bar”
Inside I can hear the invisible singer.

Dark is not dark enough

2007-10-19T12:43:00.001-07:00

Dark is not dark enough
as dark hearts can be

a mask within a mask,
a smile feeling shy inside it,
a smile that hides all the remorse,
I’m yet to reveal the true nature of the soul.

I opened my mask to reveal yet another within it,
Shocked I ripped it to find a faint smile inside the inner mask,
A smile that was mocking on me.
Unknowingly knowing the shock I got from this play of my own faces.
A face that’s always dead,
One that’s most vibrant.
And yet within all this a true face with a mocking smile.

I was getting used to this long forgotten face of mine,
But definitely this smile wasn’t there when last time I saw my maskless face.
Though I never realised when I put on the mask,
One by one.

I’m a bit sceptical to meet people with this mocking smile of mine,
How they may take it,
Will they laugh,
Will they hate,
Will they love.

How does it matter what people may think about me,
Whats important is that I’m knowingly hating it and unknowingly admiring it in the mirror,
I tried to speak to it but my new face won’t budge from that mocking smile.
Few passer by saw me talking to myself, found it funny.
I had to stop my dialogue, since people were finding it funny.

As days passed this smile was getting on to my nerves,
everytime I tried knowing the reason for the smile.
People would embarrass and make me leave things midway.

Time was passing by
More and more was I anxious to know the reason why.
Finally I gave up and talked and talked to the smiling face of mine,
People came and left thinking me to be insane.
Days passed by I was still talking,
People were laughing at me.

Somehow no more was I worried about people around
Everyday surely I would spend some time talking to the face,
I never got an answer back but a slight change of attitude towards me.

No more of mockery but a lively breathing smile.
We forgot about the masks,
We forgot the people,
Or maybe the people forgot us.

No more of my questions,
All I would do is talk to the face,
Days became months
And months became years
I started walking and living with the face.

Life became beautiful,
Days became gorgeous,
Nights became charming,

One day in my room I heard a voice,
Looked around to see a mirror,
and in the mirror saw a me,
no more different from my smile,
as happy as I,
this time the mirror spoke to me.

Spoke to me about the pain I had given,
the pain when I never spoke to him,
the pain of seeing me embarrassed about being my true self.
and every time I gave him the pain,
He would smile back at me.

A BEAST AMONG ANIMALS

2007-10-19T12:34:00.000-07:00

I woke up after a long sleep and found my shirt crisp as if freshly starched.

The bloodstains on my shirt had dried up.

Luckily it was not my blood and unluckily the blood belonged to those two who lied dead next to me, they were to young to die.

Don’t know why they were born, were they born just for this day to give me this life after the massacre and stain my shirt.

Pity.

Or was there a greater role that they played.

I got up hushed away the wild beasts trying to snap meat from the young tender bodies. I dragged the bodies to a nearby pit and covered them with mud caused by last nights rain.

Once again I felt exhausted and perched on a nearby rock. With my back towards the sun. thinking about reasons of past fifteen years.

The sun was harsh and shadows were hard.

Nah… I can’t believe my eyes. My shadow was missing. Suddenly I went pale with fear. I pinched my arm it hurt, it wasn’t a dream.

Immediately I got up and started running in fear, but every time I looked back couldn’t find even a trace of my shadow.

Exhausted and hungry I was now.

Just another nights journey till I reach the little town I left fifteen years back. The town where I had to leave back my only love.

By the time I reached the town I got used to my being shadow less.

The town was all the same as it had been when I left except for the fact that it had grown grayer.

Booked a room in a shabby lodge. Got out off the lodge and into the street.

Walked by the antique shops, took a left turn for the small restaurants that served good affordable food. Placed a wholesome order. Which was served in a jiffy. My mouth was already salivating, the food smelt great. I took the first bite and there was an instant repulsion. I ran away in the street and puked.

Went back paid the bill for nothing that I consumed and walked back to the lodge.
Never knew when I dozed off but by the time I got up it was already evening. Still hungry I got up and started walking toward the restaurant where I was supposed to meet my lost love, now a happy wife with a little son. As usual I reached there fifteen minutes earlier than expected.

The aroma around was so appetising. And there she comes with her son. She looked beautiful as ever, just that a few streaks of gray hair and a bit of heavier bust.

It was evident that she was delighted to see me but instantly I could see the horror in her eyes without her saying a word.

As usual she quickly hid the expression and greeted me with open arms.

It was good to see her son (no hard feelings). We ordered a decently huge meal taking in consideration my appetite that too being hungry for almost more than a day. The food was served, the spices smelled awesome. I was salivating heavily. The kid took the first bite followed by the lady. Once again I felt like puking and rushed towards the loo.

It was embarrassing I couldn’t join them back on the table. But left she took me to a corner kissed me hard on my lips once again the fear was reflecting on her face I a flash of a second she hid it and all she said was “sandy you look exactly as young as you were fifteen years back, as if time have stopped for you…

…it’s weird”.

I just unheard it and walked back to the lodge. Funny wasn’t this my only wish- to look young.

Slept off feeling hungry and weak.

Woke up late next morning, eggs and butter toast were laid on the breakfast table. The same pukishness took over but the salivation was obscenely high saliva was almost dripping down my mouth.

I could realise that I shouldn’t hang around in this town anymore. Paid the lodge-keeper and started walking empty stomach.

Almost a day since I left the town dead and weary I was about to fall on the ground, suddenly I saw some wild beasts fighting among themselves. Without any fear I entered their territory.

Yes they had dug the freshly made graves and trying to tear flesh of the young tender bodies. My stained shirt still lying where I left it.

I hushed away the animals and sat there guarding the bodies.

Very soon my mouth started salivating and I couldn’t control the urge to take a chunk out of the half rotten body,

No more puke. It satiated my soul.

By now the sun was setting and silence had covered everything.

Animals started prowling in the dark and I stood there guarding the half eaten bodies against the animals.

Yes they were mine.

Yes they were born to nourish me.

Yes they will give me strength.

And I will protect them till there’s the last of flesh on the bones.

In the darkness I was no more missing my shadow.

All this was a small price that I promised to the Devil if he made my only wish come true. I fulfilled my promise and got stains on my shirt as the blood was dripping down my mouth since it was my first drink…

…in future I never wasted a drop of sweet tender flesh and blood.

And always looked young as the Devil had promised.

ASHEN DUST

2007-10-19T12:27:00.000-07:00

Deep brown leaves,
the trunks coal in colour.
It was like this when I was walking through the forest,
the forest with floor of ash.

I don’t remember how I came in all the way
to the middle of this dead jungle
had I walked my way through
or had just landed in the middle all of a sudden

nobody to be seen,
no sounds to be heard.

I wanted to shout,
but couldn’t hear my own voice,
I was scared to break the sacred silence.

Could be there were few more living beings like me,
but all of them scared to break the silence.
Hence feeling alone.

After a long wait
I made my first move
The first step I put forward
And a small little cloud of ashen dust did rise in air.

Was the ash made out of burnt grass and burnt animals.
Maybe those innocent things like squirrels and rabbits
Had been burnt to ashen dust.
And every step I took it felt as if I am crushing those little souls under my feet.

This is not the middle earth I keep fantasising about,
This is not Mordor where Gollum died.
This is more real a world,
Or maybe the future I can see.

I kept on walking in search of sunlight and water.

As I walk through the dead shrubs with deep brown leaves,
my body starts becoming darker in colour,
but my foot remain lighter ash.

Funny but true,
time was also not changing,
it wasn’t lit up like a day would be nor was it dark as a night.
Yet whatever it was it did not change a bit.
Was this place not time bound.
Had it freed itself from the phases of sun and the moon.

It was under the effect of a constant dim glow of self-radiance.
No external effects at all.

I kept on walking and walking
I’m sure I would have walked for more than a day
if I were in a place where time played a role.
The sadder part was even after such a long walk
I did not feel hunger
I did not feel pain.

I did not know what to do next
this constantness was turning me mad,
the situation was so bad that I probably wanted to die,
or do anything else to break this constant feeling.

I walked a few more hours
nothing changed.

I tried to bang my head to a tree trunk,
nothing changed,
not a drop of blood,
nor feeling of pain.

nothing was changing
nothing at all

Finally I decided to kill myself
I blocked my nostrils with one hand and
mouth with the other
I lay like this for hours
Nothing changed
nothing at all.
No pain
No death

This was scary
the feeling of victory upon death was scary.

All I wanted on this day onwards was to die.

I don’t want to live a life in which I cannot die,
I don’t want to live a life in which I cannot feel the pain of living.
I don’t want to live a life which is so constant.

Please someone help me die
Please someone help me to scream.
Please break the silence of deathless life.

Ad campaign

2007-10-19T12:24:00.000-07:00

It took me a long time to realise,
How a good advertising campaign works,
And how we become a part of it without knowing.

As all ad campaigns work in phases
This one also had three phases

The first one was where we were made to realise the need,
Well it all started long time back,
Without me actually knowing it happening,
It was much later I acknowledged reality
But by then it was too late.

It happened something like,
Everyday of my life,
I was told to be good,
Do good deeds etc…
Have a sane life
Or else you won’t get a place in heaven.

Heaven seemed to me like an exotic holiday resort,
And very soon as I grew up a bit,
Started the second phase,
Glamorising the vision of being in Heaven,

The spiritual Guru’s telling in detail,
How beautiful is it to be in heaven
And how morbid would hell be…
The spiritual healers telling us how the grass is greener on the other side,
Yet who knows where it heaven,
Where do I get the tickets from,
Which tour coordinator should I contact.

But even in the second phase I didn’t realise
That it was more of a testimonial campaign happening,
I thought them to be true.

Now starts the third phase where I start longing for the product,
and the retailers sold everything else (accessories) to me but the product.
Everything else constituted of meditation classes, yagyas, fastings pilgrimage etc…
And with every growing day my longing for the mission called SWARG (HEAVEN) was increasing,
There was a hype around me about it
But shortage in supply maybe.
Well it could be a marketing trick.

Still I was unaware of the trick.

Where was this heaven.

When will I get my passport.

It had been a long time and I have lived years in wait,
No longer could I wait,
I’m sick,
I’m dying,

I realised it was all a false hope,

I would have got it by now,
I did my best through out my life,
Helped people,
Regularly meditated,
Went to pilgrimage etc…

No more could I stretch myself,
My time came,
And I died…

Sleeping on a slab of ice,
Cursing myself for what all I missed in life,
For a stupid dream called heaven,
Which didn’t even exist.

But now it’s too late,
I’m dead and dead tired of running for the dream,
I stay still waiting for four people to pick me up,
They come people who were dearest to me,
Pick me up,
And cry aloud “ram naam satya hai…”

And I curse them without even having the courage to raise my voice,
Where is the truth it’s all mithya(false) even you are getting trapped in the loop.

But I’m too tired of this life to and least bother about what they think about life…
They keep on chanting
I keep on cursing.

Finally we reach the a place called the crematorium and outside was written

“swarg ka dwaar” or the door to heaven…

was this the last and final stage of the campaign,
where finally I get to view the product,
and my holiday begins…

Silent conversation.

2007-08-29T11:35:00.000-07:00

“It is my father I’m talking to”.

I had to shout and tell the people who were staring at me.

Yes it was my father, not a father from the church,

but a father who gave me his name,

a father who gave me his looks,

a father who took care of me for so many years.

Yes I’m talking to and talking about my Father.

We had been sitting in the café and chatting for hours now,

a very silent conversation,

as Father wouldn’t speak a word.

People would come and go past us.

Wearing an inquisitive look on there face in the coffee shop,

As we chat, me and my father.

I got up feeling disgusted by their glances

and started walking back home.

Still telling him what all happened today.

Father listened to all that I said without uttering a word.

He’s the only person who would always have the patience to listen to me.

It was like this since I was a child.

People told me that my father would take me in his arms

and go out for long walks talking to me all the time.

This was even before I learnt to speak word.

As I grew up we would sit on the terrace and talk for hours.

As I still grew older cups of coffee would be shared while we talked.

But today I speak,

He listens.

I drink cups of coffee,

He still listens.

As we walk the talk and reach home from the café.

Mother opens the door,

Looks at me… smiles,

kisses on my forehead.

As she goes in I could see the pain in my father eyes,

The pain of longing to speak to his wife.

A wife who was so dear to him,

A wife who’s stopped talking to him,

stopped talking since last summer.

She had been like this since last summer,

I very well remember the day,

the day we kept on waiting for the ambulance to arrive,

the day science and technology all failed us,

the day all my mothers gods and goddesses failed us,

the day reasons and logics failed us,

the day my father failed to take another breathe.

HOPE

2007-08-29T11:25:00.000-07:00

Oranges look brighter

So do the apples

After the shower

Lucky are some parts of the country

who got a share of the deep grey clouds.

I wish the rains to reach out soon

to those who are waiting for the same

Those who wait with hope in their eyes

and a wish in their heart

a wish to take a shower

a wish to play with paper boats

a wish to share the umbrella

Or wish to write a few words on the rain.

I have all

2007-08-29T11:16:00.000-07:00

I have all

I have all,

I have land (my own piece of land),

I have water.

isn’t that all,

that a man needs.

one more thing,

I have gold.

yes, solid shiny gold,

embedded all over a wooden box.

the box, which is lying deep in the moist ground.

no one can snatch this land from me,

nor the gilded box in which I lie.

all they took from me was air,

air enough to breathe.

- the dark one

lets live...

2007-03-24T12:22:00.000-07:00

one day we all will be dead,
till then we all are living

lets live...

Come again

2007-03-24T11:54:00.000-07:00

Sitting inside the coffee shop I could hear her come.

Soon could I smell the typical smell she comes with.
So intoxicating, so life giving is the smell…
Or could be some kind of an aphrodisiac.

No more could I resist. Stood up and started walking towards the door.

Yes she was outside. People were going mad.
Since she was all they were longing for.

Prayers have been heard. Wishes had come true,

Dry barren lands will soon give birth to a new generation of crops.
Evil will be washed away.
Umbrellas will come in use. Trousers will be folded to walk on the streets.
Kids will be splashing in puddles of fun

What fun to stand in the middle of the street and get drenched in the firstdrops of rain coming your way.

Rain

2007-03-24T11:43:00.000-07:00

Lifeless did turn into life,

With the first drop of the rain.

Grey clouds were draining the river to earth,

Don't know why.

For whom

Who knows.

Standing in the middle of the street,

I got drenched.

Washed my sins away,

With the first water from the sky.

Why

2007-03-09T15:57:00.000-08:00

Two years spend in fog and grey
Takes from me my shine away
Someone something needs to come my way
Give me the reason and tell me why.

Why to see the unseen sun
Why to praise the shallow moon
Why to believe in the cat on my lap.

Or should I just rub myself to the grinding stone.
Or should I just feel being a stone.
Every feeling will be on high.
No more my eyes will ever cry.

Believe me or you may not
Fighting with shadows is not my game
To fight they have to have faces
To win they have to have faces
To lose they have to have faces

Hope I get my face back
Hope I get my shine back

On the edge

2007-03-08T11:40:00.000-08:00

Sitting with one foot dangling down my own grave,

Watching the stars in the starry sky.

I decide to abuse the priest for his sermon

Standing next to the electric chair,

Watching the grin on the jailor's face.

I decide to make love to the woman whom I loved so much.

Holding the railing of the ship about to sink ,

Watching the waves come my wave.

I decide to tell my ex-wife how much I love her.

Living on the edge was my dream.

But I compromised.

But today before I die, I will for once live on the edge.

AWAKEN

2007-03-08T11:32:00.000-08:00

A pebble had been thrown
in the placid lake.

ripples are growing to reach the edge
and die

and you can see the nihilist sitting by the shore
and admiring
or hating

who knows

once again she had broken the law
now she doesn't know
whether she can stop the ripples or not

she's watching with
another pebble in her hand to be able
to start it again if she wants.

it's just fun for her
for me it's awakening

i woke up from a long sleep almost death i would say.
the placid lake have been finally been disturbed.

the nihilist is just watching the ripple to grow and die

Is that what we call life

2007-03-06T10:51:00.000-08:00

Is that what we call life

My life needs some diturbance,
Or else it's becoming like an old placid lake.

Long forgotten,
Without even a single ripple.

A lake formed when a meteor hit the trunk of earth and
created a dent and over the period water drained into it.
and thus born was the lake,

A lake that stinks of chemicals out of the meteor
which man hasn't been able to decode, as the basic elements are not in our periodic table.

No microorganism can live in it.

All I need is some one to sit on it's bank,
And throw pebbles
And enjoy the ripples.

I'm hoping against all odds that one day a little kid,
Come across the damp woods,
And rediscover me.

REASON or NO REASON

2007-03-04T10:47:00.000-08:00

one day i will scream
one day i will shout
one day i will whisper
one day i will frown
one day i will do all i want to
why not, because thats what i want
one day i will give my opinion
one day people will hate me
one day they will laugh at me
one day they will ask why
one people will think about what i said
one day one man will beleive what i said
that day i will get a reason why.

MOCKING SMILE

2007-03-04T10:23:00.000-08:00

a mask within a mask,
a smile feeling shy inside it,
a smile that hides all the remorse,

I opened my mask to reveal yet another within it,
Shocked I ripped it to find a faint smile inside the inner mask,
A smile that was mocking on me.
Unknowingly knowing the shock I got from this play of my own faces.

A face that’s always dead,
another that’s most vibrant.
And yet within all this a true face with a mocking smile.

I was getting used to this long forgotten face of mine,
But definitely this smile wasn’t there when last time I saw my maskless face.
Though I never realised when I put on the masks.
One by one.

I’m a bit sceptical to meet people with this mocking smile of mine,
How they may take it,
Will they laugh,
Will they hate,
Will they love.

How does it matter what people may think about me,
Whats important is that I’m knowingly hating it
and unknowingly admiring it in the mirror,
I tried to speak to it but my new face won’t budge from that mocking smile.
Few passer-by saw me talking to myself,
found it funny.

I had to stop my dialogue,
since people were finding it funny.
As days passed this smile was getting on to my nerves,
everytime I tried knowing the reason for the smile.
People would embarrass and make me leave things midway.

Time was passing by
More and more was I anxious to know the reason why.
Finally I gave up and talked and talked to the smiling face of mine,
People came and left thinking me to be insane.
Days passed by I was still talking,
People were laughing at me.
Somehow no more was I worried about people around
Everyday surely I would spend some time talking to the face,
I never got an answer back but a slight change of attitude towards me.

No more of mockery but a lively breathing smile.
We forgot about the masks,
We forgot the people,
Or maybe the people forgot us.

No more of my questions,
All I would do is talk to the face,
Days became months
And months became years
I started walking and living with the face.

Life became beautiful,
Days became gorgeous,
Nights became charming,

One day in my room I heard a voice,
Looked around to see a mirror,
and in the mirror saw a me,
no more different from my smile,
as happy as could be,
this time the mirror spoke to me.

Spoke to me about the pain I had given,
the pain when I never spoke to him,
the pain of seeing me embarrassed about being my true self.
and every time I gave him the pain,
He would smile back at me.