And who emerged victorious and who the hell lost
We can't care because we change
Because where we left was the time time started for us
Aimless search, frustration, unfaithfuls. People you cannot satisfy and people who cannot satisfy you
Love, which is vengeful and demanding
--
Dreamlogue I
at every station i could see her waiting in the platform. and appear slowly coming closer and then slowly left behind as the train moved. next station and she would wait again.
very fair and very frail. thin black hair tied tight into a neat tail. narrow blood lips and broad spectacles no eyes
i ran frantically, into different compartments down vestibules but had no courage to leave the train, get down
to find her i would need to leave the train
she was inside the train. waiting by the door. faint smile
'you've never kissed me', she said
--
those who live in continuous hell never die. longevity is the biggest hardship of continuous hell
-- budhha
--
a mortal who makes love to a goddess is doomed but once chosen cannot avoid his fate -
when forbidden fruit has been your daily diet, what do you do for thrills -
- rushdie
--
wasting away our lives
in the search of modesty
vengeful love & futile fraternity
there is something to live for
and some need to die
too much laughter
swells the eye
as pride rules
time dies
half of us is made of hate
how much ever we deny
everybody has a way to lie
--
all you care about is me,
can't you lie more convincingly
--
we live among wilting leaves
& die with fragrant wreathes
under peaceful shroud
and the chant so loud
dead trees cackle when lit
dead beings mourn over it
--
when we're trying along
the broken lines of a song
feel complete, nothing wrong
with me, with you, with the song
that's where i start
that's where i end
that's the road i walk
with the memories you've sent
so let's sing the song
and lets dance along
with a spirit of mine
with your memories, i'm fine.
--
what we want we do not pursue, what we pursue we do not want
--
Thus erupted the violent outrage,
giving way to the calm
giving way to the stone
to the silent realm
Of the mourner,
of the dead,
of the sinner,
and one's afraid
So rise my fried
With reverence and head bowed down
Murmur silent prayers
& see if she's around
Around my corpse
Around its shadow
Near the lifeless walls
Over the closing window
Don't let burn my dead
As she ever did before
Silence her damned tongue
Before she creates a furor
About my life
About my death
About my love
My disgusting faith
--
when i wanted to speak
you'd dumb my heart
for all the pain you knew
& asked why was i sad
and wanted lies for answers
to every question ever asked
--
transient tranquil trance
--
And they injected chaos in the skies
Everything became deranged
Everything unusually quiet. And dark. Like foreboding. Shops with shutters down. Some cars like cockroaches stuck inside an empty can
Just like me, you and them.
Blinking traffic lights. Cars. Face to face. Empty. Blank. Staring.
Sitting in an empty public bus i look at the vacant seats
Two men sit on two lady's seats
A healthy young boy on the physically challenged seat
The bus. Not a stir.
Conductor strolled monolithically outside whispering monotonously ' baanstola baanstola'
Some banged hard against the walls of the bus. Shouted hoarse to start the fucking bus
The bus, reluctantly hissed forward. Horned like in victory.
Victory in provocation. Of provoking and being provoked. By them who we know have no power to hurt us. We the weak. We the powerless. We the alone. Commoners are the biggest minority here. Always alone. We provoke the confused ones. The ones in search of reality.
We provoke ones who love. Who are weak because they love someone who are weak because they love them back.
The psychotics won't harm you. Its out of their power. So they're left alone banging heads against the walls of time shouting 'stop' 'stop'
Try to die with time. Not against it. Stop thinking. Be their way. Like zombies. Stop speaking. Stop listening. Smile.
--
Letters danced at the periphery of paper
Waves, singing in sweet sensation
as raptured heart sang
Poured pure blood in vexation
Exhausted brains turned tabled of time
Darkened eyes with the vagaries of past
They beckoned the cursing gods
To fulfill atheist dreams at last
Curtains rose to strip reality bare
Spiky hair of the golden mare
Galloped through the terrain of my life
Numbed my limbs to enter the kingdom of slime
--
I go to bombay often.
Meet stars.
Met Katrina Kaif last.
Have contacts with influential people
Work in a resort
Today Abhishek Bachhan is with me. Yesterday was John. Sanjay Dutt before that.
We friends keep i-pods with us
They live in bombay. Out here they don't accept us.
Tickle girls. At stupid places.
Move in bikes.
I don't have friends here. They all got married. I am alone.
Our clock is our pulse
what friends do you have? girls or boys?
girls - all hot hot
so why don't you bring them over
they won't come at night. they have homes to get back to.
but they can come with us. and we can tickle them at all the foolish places till they laugh......................................page missing.......................torn.............
--
One of these days,
I'm going to die
young and gay
One of these days
For all the mistakes
You need to pay
For all my ailing heart
and all my weakened nerves
Trying hard for memories to fade
One of these days
I'm going to make sure
I'm pretty high
One of these days
Fearing misty mornings
I'm not going to rise
--
Second by second, our own identity gets entangled in the web we create to trap another. The fine walls of human relationship are so fragile that they are torn apart by the most insignificant jerk we give in order to free ourlselves.
Everything falls down before our eyes as the stupid meshes of lustful saliva are pulled at both ends.
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So I ventured out all alone. Effortlessly.
--
We're all bitten by the same bugs of anxiety. Tormented by the same impulse of alternating rage & fear.
--
I live life almost mechanically.
at a peripheral level it might not seem so. Because I go to sleep at my own bed and wake up on my neighbour's. I sit in seedy country joints and fly into the blue moon. I sing I dance I laugh I hate.
But don't tell me its unpredictable. It is. Almost palpable. 'Coz I always know that the things that are happening ought to happen. The freedom we are exercising are bound in blinding rules that we don't know. We can't see.
I know my highs and lows. Exuberances, limitlessness. And when they will fade away.
I know when to speak.
I know when they will speak.
When they'll show and I hate
I know the disgraceful outrage which victimizes me and the ones around. I also know that it'll go away as soon as turn my head the other way.
I can predict their moves, and when I'll lie.
I understand this penelopised life and its insignificance.
I sleep and snore till the sun peaks and I know it won't be long. The life I'm leading is bound to change and that fuckin' change is so fuckin' monotonous.
--
And yes ma'am...everybody is dirty in their private lives. We cough sneer jerk and spit like rotten dogs. Our jealousies and manipulations guide us to attain home. Baring ugly teeth we dream like wolvez.
The ugly facade of our multi-dimensional dream is so cleverly veiled by flowing beard. We all let each other down.
--
God, is a part of the circle.
--
Medicines don't wash away your sins.
--
You were doomed, the very day we met.
--
your eyes can lie
if theres some love for me
your lips may cheat
do keep me away from reality
where do we stand?
when knees tremble with fear?
fucking wings when cut
raging dreams split in tears
--
the world may care for the things that you love to do.
who will uproot the depths of hatred we contain?
who will learn to respect the agony of pain?
Who...will be ready to die for you when I'm gone?
--
So now, you reign over the empire she created for herself. The princess has become the queen? And what do you think will change when you hold the shredded reins of power? Its not easy to rule with sleeping masks queen.
In this chessboard of life you've made me your pawn.
--
Death - the neverending reality of dreams
Dreams - painful when broken
Whose truth we are all ready to defy. To detach their existence from our own as soon as we open our eyes.
And you stand alone tryin' to fit all the jumbled blocks into their places to form the mirror of your own reflection.
Why do you tend to forget that its only the mirror which breaks and not your image.
Who are you to make them accept the fantasies revolving around us?
They, who are not ready to accept their fate with an exception of accepting all that they desire to possess.
And what did you accept?
The exceptional love you dreamt up for me.
The hands to hold which you desired so much.
Just in order to pull up the shrunken ship of your landless life.
Why did you forget the vast lands equally vast as the ocean, mighty mountains and deepest abysses inside the already existing ocean.
The pathways upon which we walk have to be present somewhere.
--
Humiliate people for long enough and a wildness bursts out of them. Afterwards, surveying the wreckage of their rage, they look bewildered, uncomprehending, young.
- Rushdie, Shame
--
We have assumed unusual powers. We humanized all animals. And animalized all humans.
Suited booted birds, sailor ducks, pilot emus, mice walking on two legs. Speaking in our language. We could never learn theirs.
We drew two eyes on sunflowers. So afraid of the jungle, we infiltrated what we know as civilization into them.
Good aliens, turned into innocent little children lost their way back home.
Cheap little roadside magic tricks.
Bad aliens, zoomed in versions of termites, cockroaches. Talking in filthy human tones.
--
Dreamlogue II
Its Ziniom's 16th birthday. Since the eve of her last birthday she is pestering her mother for a gift. This year, her mom reluctantly decides to gift her the carnal fulfillment.
She called upon Ziniom's cousin of the same age. Tall and a tad too fleshy. This made him her first choice.
The backyard behind bushy leafy shrubs. Perfect for love making
Ziniom was handed over a cover and a sheet to place upon the crawling insectivorous insects infesting the grass. She quickly let down her pants 'coz daddy was sure to come home early. The cousin hid comfortably behind the bush. To drape the shame of his sins. Temptations are too heavy to resist.
Agni hovered around the chic bungalow on his wings.
He saw all of this happening. Ziniom's betrayal tore the flesh out of his thighs. So numb he became but was still flying
The fire began to burn.
Betrayal is not in any action. As soon as the thought flashes in the mind, its done. You are betrayed.
Still on his wings, Agni turned away slowly from the scene and drifted east. You can turn away eyes, not thoughts. Thoughts which burn away the fucking meaning of existence out of you.
With a swish, he turned to the west. A slight angular tilt of the body and he rocketed at the speed of light to become light itself.
To illuminate, to attract, burn, to blind.
Love turns us into human bombs.
He took Ziniom by her witchy bunch of black hair and pulled and dragged her into the house. She struggled with a love white cover. Patches of blood on it.
He returned to Mr. Cousin. Shivering meekly under the bushes in such a violent effort to conceal himself.
"Motherfucker. Bastard. In my gaze you won't be alive for a minute"
Agni was right. He could see cousin carrying across his half charred mass of flesh across the boundary his feet getting shorter every minute.
Back to Ziniom, he cried, 'did he penetrate'
Zinion refused to answer. Blood dripped from the love white shawl. Agni crushed a wine glass with bare hands banged a champagne bottle on his head took the speed of light crashed against the iron walls and died.
--
ना कुछ पाना है
ना कुछ खोना है
जो है यहीं है
क्यो है पता नही
बस एक illusion है ज़िंदा होने की
जीने की
क्यों है
पता नही
love hate accuse abuse hit cry fuck dope die live nothing is going to change anything
--
Your ballroom days are over baby,
light is drawing near
Shadows of the evening
are crawling across the years.......
.....................................................
.....................................................
.....................................................
flow up in your hands
Tryin' to tell me, no one
understands.........
- Mr. Mojo Risin
--
Dreamlogue III
Riva is very happy today. Matsya is going with him to the night of dances today.
They left home and walked among frenzy crowds sweating in the heat of drums and dance
Riva shielded his idol from the grinding mobs. An arm around her.
Both sides of the street were buildings. Tribal buildings. Such a joyous evening.
The star drummer of the evening was sipping tea in a kulhad in a small shop. He smiled at the glittering couple. Young girls offered Matsya flowers plucked from their own head-dress.
Happiness made Riva burst in mad mirth.
Riva exclaimed jumped whooped sang ran towards the Leviathan gates. Spread arms to enclose winds in the heart turned around and gazed into an empty street.
Where is matsya, in his mind he asked.
May be some joke. Peeped behind the trees to find her. All around was empty like his heart was beginning to. He ran to the tea shop scuffled with the owner collided with crowds head on. Ran back to the amphitheatre scaled walls stairs underneath seats
--
This is how history is made. This future unfolds gifts of dis-illusionment.
Religion is a pragmatic explanation to supreme power
Is life an interpretation of conclusions, or conclusion of interpretations?
Darkness induces sleep
Sleep induces darkness
Obscured lies the most sacred verse
History might forget itself
--
gory zig zagged facial hair which don't tickle but sting
--
in silent night
through the door
i see trees which roar
i hear shrieks of the whore
there is no silent night
insects tweeter
there is no sweet poison
intoxicants are always bitter
there goes philosopher
naked head naked feet
skin that crumbles
like icy white sleet
--
Everybody has left every one. Atomic forces overcome, everybody disperse.
A lot of justifications are left unspoken. Lot of accusations left unaccounted. Smiles dissolving like colours in ether. They have even stopped crying. The waters have hardened into a thin crust over the eyes. No it hasn't affected vision. People are content with a blurred world. Just that the eyes seem to bulge a little and blood arteries more prominent
They still laugh. Hiding anguish. Hollow laughter. Ringing echoing into your ear drums even after they have withdrawn from their brief drama.
They are still trying to nail the rusted walls. I have warned them. Don't hammer. The wall might collapse. Nails may bend, hands might turn into paste.
Some of them bang their wrists against the floor wrecking red bangles. what are they mourning for?
Nobody contacts me now. Even if they do, they seem to out of habit, compliance, compulsion. Some are still trying to nail into my skull
Everybody sleeps too much now. You know why? They want to live for as less time as possible.
Temporary death every night.
Day dreaming is a plague. In the classroom all started day dreamin and dreams hit each other crashed and overlapped
Even while eating they are havin problems. That person sitting over there swallowed an entire spoon while eating porridge
And the one over there chewed his fingers while at the chicken wing. civilizations are turning barbaric.
i saw one missile chasing another with utmost dedication. the missile ahead dodged for sometime but got tired very soon. The attack missile exuberantly went and crashed into it obliterating both of them
...
to be continued
---
I silently got up from the river bank and moved away. She was sleeping while I sat and puffed my cigarette away, switching gazes from the golden ripples to her curls hiding her eyes from the sunny strides. She changed her side and faced the other side. I too finished my cigarette and dusted myself without making the slightest rustle, for she was still sleeping. While I walked away from the silence into the growing hustle I wondered if she would follow me. Noise might disturb her slumber.
I carefully avoided the puddles and ignored my neighbour who commented continually upon my whereabouts. I quickly entered into my room and lied down on my bed.
She was still sleeping. Smilin' at some sweet dream. Pouting for something, moving for something, changing sides while I hushed the flies away. I looked intently at her face. That was everything. Meant the entire world for me. I waited, and so I would...
The fan rotated slowly over my overfilled stomach. And I thought with arms behind my head. For quite some time may be. Don't know for how long. While her face twitched at some violent nightmare. She perspired and gasped for breath. I bowed nervously over her tryin' to do something to ease her pain.
Your pain, your sleep, your nightmares, how to stop them sweet lady?
(undated, approx. 2006)
--
Dreamlogue
Shailja was a small girl when she saw the teeth gritting fiercely screeching monkeys in the zoo. She had tried to touch them. Only to infuriate Mr. Daga. She had seen the barking wolves, baring their fangs, gobbling up pieces of raw meat. The gang of wolverines had come there and played the games of courage with the wolves and the monkeys. They had punched them from between the cage bars. They had tried to get inside the arena of fierce monstrosity.
And how had it infuriated Mr. Daga, Shailja still remembers.
"These girls, oh these brats, these girls!" He shook while he screamed. "They are all sending bad messages to my small angel. They are teaching her the games of death. These girls, with red leather bikini tops. Their leather skirts can't even hide their skin". He called out to the zoo manager to shut them up and take them away. The manager had switched off all the lights of the zoo and drove all of them out of the dark auditorium.
The monkeys, the wolves, the wolverines....are they still fresh in my angel Shailja's mind?
I thought as I treaded slowly towards her apartment.
(approx. 2006)
--
This, in fact, is the power of the imagination, which, combining the memory of gold with that of the mountain, can compose the idea of a golden mountain.
- Umberto Eco
Nature is an infinite sphere whose center is everywhere, whose circumference is nowhere.
- Pascal
Life and dreams are leaves of the same book: reading them in order is living; skimming through them is dreaming.
- Schopenhauer
To be in love is to create a religion whose God is fallible.
- Valery
A dream is a scripture, and many scriptures are nothing but dreams...
- Eco
--
Isn't it fun to drown into the chasm? Drift into the vague emptiness of love and fate. The fear of the unknown, the lump in the heart is sugar. The ocean of wisdom, the valleys of life are all great. There too you fall in a flightless bliss. The fall without a landing. The fall for forever.
Or is it to rise in the empty sky? It well might be so. Like the densest snowke. To rise and scatter into infinity. Spread the fragrance of silver and charcoal.
In this universe, you either will fall or will rise. To walk in fixed pathways is the job of planets and the lumps of dust and fire. Where will the flesh and blood go? Turn into dinner?
(approx. 2006)
--
who claimed all your life?
who blamed you all through your life?
who cried to hear your voice?
who didn't give you another choice?
who lived with your broken dreams?
who shivered at your toxic schemes?
who lied just to get your love?
who tried to steal the magic shrub?
who wanted to get higher than you?
who drank poison more than you?
who shouted at you to change your ways?
keep answering, as you've done always.
--
Well, if they don't understand
What is our fault in it?
If its so complex around
where do we fit in?
Can they stop us thinking,
about me, you or us?
They might take away everything else
They can shout, scream or curse.
And that can bring a few drops
in the eyes of mine or yours
That won't change anything else
The sea might recede or encroach the shore.
The stars can engulf us
but only when they're dead
Who can kill the monsters
which we have only bred?
Abstracts are easy to define
hard to understand
This hiding place must be a secret
Our secret castle of sand.
--
It is a grey sky
and ebony giants silhouette
while it lay barren....
the ground behind the streets.
Soft and tempting
My childhood ground.
Secured with boundaries
But no fences around.
So I went behind the street
To imprint on the grey sand
Weeping softly to make it wet
For Amanda and her wand.
And barren it lay beneath my feet
While I wept, to let them meet.
And grains shifted to make the way.
Bared its fangs to engulf my feet.
--
Technology kills
sophistication makes us cheap, complex
and fragile.
(all approx. 2006)
--
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