i NEED my bike back....

its stifling out here...

i need to flee....

i need my BIKE....

[in the pic : ponchee the hungry birf and urs truly six drinks down]


PRINCETON

PRINCETON last nite ws a lotta fun after a long long time...
mobilising tht social vehicle can be quite relaxing at times [or so i learnt]...
PRINCETON is better than most other night clubs in KOL...
surprisingly cheap booze ,nice comfy couches,dim lights ,irate bartender,obese bouncer,
and a band whose lead cannot sing to save his life,nice crowd comprising mostly of school kids
and trendy rebels.
and when u r in d company of some very good looking wemen...it gets tht lil better.
all tht mobility...meeting ,dating and cheating [as REX wud put it]...so much 2 see,learn n laugh about/at.

i like the wooden flooring there...
when i hve my own studio apartment il have wooden floors...
and one LAZY BOY couch...

Went to see my BEAST today...
she is getting all dressed up and draped in black and chrome...
when she hits d road...she will steal a lotta envious looks...

TATTOO's - i gotta take it to tht next decisive level...

tribals n barbed-wire s are getting painfully and mind-fuckingly boring.

DEATH IS THE ULTIMATE AND RIGHTEOUS EQUALIZER

i was a witness to one more death 2day...
someone close to the family this time...
and i have come to the conclusion that if your not someone absolutely close to the deceased [no blood relation n such] and if ur still howling and crying buckets in front of her pyre,
then ur actually crying at your own closely guarded failures and personal loses

[ that girl/guy you thought you loved and who is now married with 2 kids
or ,tht exam you could never crack
or ,tht job u never had
or ,tht vacation u cannot afford
or ,those kids who never listen to u
or ,may be someone really close who is nomore
a jilted lover may be
a broken heart et all ]

i might be wrong but in the unlikely event tht i am,u have to gimme a darned good reason to prove your point.
i remember the first time i cried in a mourning house...
my late pishi who suffered from cancer which worsened into a paralysis and finally a very ,very early death.
it ws a friday and i had juz returned from P3's tuition.
i ws informed BHARATI pishi is critical,might not survive the night.
OK,here s wht u shd know ...BHARATI pishi ws married a year b4 dad and she used to visit our house probably once in 2-3months
or more or during some occasions n such.
n since i never ws exactly wht u wud like to call a SOCIALLY outgoing person [kid then],i ws not really very close to her.
i liked her though.she ws always good to me [like evry1 else] and the preetiest amongst all my dad's bro s n sis s [DAD follows closely behind though].
but the point im trying to make here is tht i was not very close to her,not close enof to cry seeing her having
convulsions and crying out in sheer agony n pain.
but whn i did see her amidst all her misery in the last hours of her life...i CRIED.
i cried like no other [and she was still breathing then,infact she passed away 48hours later or more may b]
i cried as if i really wanted to.
i cried as if i knew i ws going to lose something,someone close,something/someone i didnt want to lose.
and tht SOMEONE/SOMETHING ws not BHARATI pishi.

FLASH BACK to 6 hours from the time whn i started my crying marathon.

my "THEN" gf and i had this routine of meeting every friday after her computer classes and then going together to P3 classes
2gether.
so there i ws all of 17yrs,illusioned ,glassy eyed lover,waiting for his one true,blue love in front of her computer class ,waiting
for it to get over [ OK ,the year ws 2002,so mobile phone s were beyond d imagination for normal school kids{read non-maru kids}]
after waiting for almost an hour,i start walking towards P3 class - needless to say thoroughly pissed,extremely angry,dejected
and ARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
i walk into P3 s class n there she ws seated beside a guy i hate till date ,with all her generosity and modesty and those
OH-SO-BEAUTIFUL eyes [ i loved those eyes].
i gave her "THE-LOOK" and it gave me immense pleasure to see her freezing.
P3 guessed the tension i suppose ,so didnt make an issue bout me being 45mins late and having missed almost d entire chapter.
so i seated my skinny lil ass [i ws 50kgs then] beside my "THEN" best frnd "K".
K did his lil friend [moi] a huge favour by revealing the whereabouts of my THEN gf.
he sed SHE ws at tht GUY's place [the guy she ws still seating beside and the guy i still hate].

KKAAAAA----BOOOOOMMMMMM

i honestly remember hearing explosions in my head.
if u KNOW me ,u d know thts not a good thing to happen to ME [even at 5feet 6inches and 50kgs].
class gets over and K sez ,and i quote - "i have some STUFF tht might make you feel better,u wanna try it??" [all in bengali,his grasp on the queens language
suckz till date]
he didnt even had 2 ask,he shd hav known the answer beforehand.
i take the STUFF... n im officially introduced to the high-headed world of OTC drugs.

i ask for few more of the STUFF from my generous THEN best frnd K humbly obliges.
i come back and im informed about BHARATI pishi s critical state.
and my crying marathon hears the gun shot.


i can give you another such example ,again from personal experience but may be later.


[I later learnt tht she went 2 get notes n tht she had called t ma place to inform tht she wont b able 2 make it 2 d computer class tht day but cdnt reach me ...
but by then the damage had been done]

"when you are young...
you think possibilities are endless"

u cannot judge this sentence...
u cannot come 2 a conclusion...
it dosnt give out a hint or a question or an inference...
it just states...
an hypothesis ,probably...

say ,if it were true...
would tht mean tht whn we are young we THINK possibilities are endless
but actually they are not??
they are few and steadily decreasing in number and size...
and we are but living under the gloomy shadow of a big fukin clock...
which is ticking...ticking away to glory???

and as we grow up to become wiser and fatter...
we realize tht we hav been fools to have thrown away our lives which cud otherwise
have been fabricated into something shiny and attractive...even expensive.
so the tag below our SELF wud have had a few more zeros added to the current wretched number.
but the imbecile tht we were whn we were YOUNG...we made the wrong choice,took the wrong decision.

but who decides tht???

YOU,ME,HE,SHE or THEY???

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

DOLL's HOUSE isnt complete.
most things arnt...
i screwed up CAT [ok u perverts ,im not into beastiality,CAT d exam@ the supposed masterkey to the door tht opens to a form of independence i dnt understand,much to the dismay of my mom and other relatives]

DIL DOSTI ETC is not particularly a blockbuster...but it made me stop n think.
at times do u feel empty...its as if the fire has been hastily put off n the surrounding frigidity has subsidized for its absence...
i say fire coz its a scary element [or atleast thts wht d ancient GREEKS thought]
its denotes power,passion an indomitable zeal.
it might correlate to somthing tht makes u feel warm from inside once its burning...
somthing tht might make u stand in the rain for hours at end and still feel warm
something tht makes u walk miles with a broken foot n still not feel a single shard of pain.
something that stops you from having your food coz of the acute lack of hunger.
something tht makes you run away from tht one single pair of eyes which possessed the power to make you
remember everything you didnt want to.
OR do u??


LOVE is a strange emotion...
its almost like women
cant live with it,cant live without it.
so tht should obviously mean tht its imperative for a healthy life.
its an absolute necessity.

i would LOVE 2 understand it...in spite of the bold n underlined warning signs,i would still want to delve deeper into its shady
corners in the hope of finding something truly amazing.
THANX 2 all those warning signs n slogans...i dnt even need an inspiration.
its the joy of the ride and not the scenic beauty of the expected destination tht matters in journeys concerning
the mind.
body
& soul

WARNING SIGNS have always fascinated me ...
they actually help me decide wht TO DO...and wht not to do.
as i wud like 2 put it...
"im in LOVE with fuk-ups in every shape,size and form."
so is it imperative for my healthy life??
is it still an absolute necessity if FUK-UP's leave behind a hell lotta dismantled,disgruntled and disillusioned people,whose
personal FUK-UP's ws the single n only major reason of attraction??
is this a race or an exam??
is this a war,a battlefield with smudged borders,where warriors involved dont share a common name but a common pre-conceived fate??
is this LIFE or LOVE ??
LOVE for LIFE??
OR
LIFE minus LOVE??


PAINTING
now thts an absolute necessity...
a beautiful ,simple one for a change.
i will make it big,someday.
charcoal makes soft black lines on paper...its kinda permanent...u try and use an eraser and the paper bears the brunt....
starts falling off...
the more u try the more u FUK-UP..
LIFE should be something similar...
or ws it LOVE i ws talking bout...

i planned on posting DOLL's HOUSE but a series of revelations while coming back from the customs office in DALHOUSIE
,made me change my plans.
DOLL's HOUSE can wait.

my last post deals with FREEDOM,or wht i feel the word SHOULD NOT mean.
i attribute the negative nature of the last post both to my inborn pessimism and my lack of
knowledge,depth and insight of wht the word FREEDOM should idealy mean.

i really dont blame myself ,i mean lets face it....
the sensex has crossed 20000
our economy is on class C stimulants
JOHN n BIPS r together
MODI is safe n sound and on his way to becomin d CM of GUJRAT for another term
MAMATA BANERJEE still has no clue wht she wants.
im a TATTOO artist.
and INDIA has been touted as the next superrrrrrr POWER.

There is no great depression
no wars [NANDIGRAM is a little ,tiny n winy isolated issue]
J & K havnt heard the sounds of mortar for quite some time now
no threats of ALIEN INVASION [the scientists claim wht we saw ws an optical illusion]

SO ,in short there are no threats to our apparent FREEDOM.
and there hasnt been any for a long long time...
so how can i expect mysElf to understand what this word means ,huh???



and then i saw HIM

the THIRD kind.
The kind who smiled before they died [RDB hangover]


KHUDIRAM BOSE (1889-1908) was a Bengali Indian freedom fighter, one of the youngest revolutionaries early in the Indian independence movement

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khudiram_Bose

Im very bad with roads and wemen,it must be STRAND ROAD, opposite to the EDEN GARDENS [for sure].
HIS statue.
one look at HIM and u would kno he died a proud man/boy.
a boy with a mans heart OR a man in a boys body.
not important.
whts important is the way he was standing
with arms tied behind [juz like it must have been right before he ws hanged]
with HIS head looking straight ahead [a young visionary probably forecasting a rebellion]
HIS vision .... BOLD,UNAFRAID AND PROUD.

and all of 19yrs whn he died...
sacrificed [should be a better choice of words]his life for a cause
a cause which is as noble as it gets
a belief which had,has and will inspire millions,billions.

im 22 n i still dont know wht FREEDOM means.

while coming back i saw 2 more visionaries
2 rebels
both very different from each other
but both unique , both MEN.

NETAJI SUBHASH CHANDRA BOSE
SWAMI VIVEKANANDA

YES im aware we all are extremely well educated INDIVIDUALS [i dunno wht this word means too] and we all had our share of obese
history manuals.and we all hated em.
but do we actually spare a thought bout exactly how great ,how selfless these INDIVIDUALS were??
do we respect their sacrifices??
their lives which they had laid down like bricks on a road so tht WE could tread on them and reach our destinations,our mutual destinations??

THEY are the cornerstones of our country
the pillars of morales tht support this great nation

the INDIVIDUALS who sought FREEDOM.
look into their eyes once in ur life when u have time n u wudnt see fear...u wud see their skulpted eyes shining with a
rare kind of modest pride which only they can give out.

DOLL'S HOUSE



coming soon

"freedom comes at a very high price,as high as slavery...only difference being we pay with pleasure and smile ,even if that smile is dimmed with tears" - paulo coelho

FREEDOM is a very powerful word...

to understand the might of this word battles have been fought,blood has been spilled like water,nations have been destroyed and then re-created to be destroyed again,people have been
slaughtered like cattle,women ravaged and children orphaned.
the clouds have been showered with crimson droplets.
sweat has moistened the land below.
and hope has humbled the brute force of the high n mighty.

FREEDOM has divided nations.

60 years of independence from the yoke of the colonial chariot.
rise of a democratic nation.
an economy on steroids.
a future super power.
the RIDE is destined to replace the RIDER.


but if we believe that we all have our own small worlds ,our own small nations with our own small population and associated problems then we cannot disregard the fact tht there is a constant war within tht small world of ours for a FREEDOM which we dont always understand but still pursue with an amazing vigour.

i have been racing against popular beliefs,growing parental expectations,foolish peers equally mindless pressure,fear,hatred,confusion,dimmed violence and the realization of the futility of relationships ,since this word has drilled itself into my mind/soul.

FREEDOM.

NO,its not about doin 100kmph on a freeway with the stubborn wind swooshing past ur ears and screaming for MORE ,MORE and MORE like some cheap pornstar with DDD assets.
NO,its not about rolling tht joint,popping tht pill,snorting tht stash
NO,its not bout hoisting tht flag
NO,its not about screaming at ur folks for showing their concern [or encroaching ur personal space]as to why those red lettered words in the school diary sez SUSPENDED FOR 2 WEEKS FOR INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR.
NO,its not about the PINK FLOYD's,DYLAN's,MORRISON's,COBAIN's OR FOSSIL's [ for my less colonised cousins]
NO,its not about ur dad's credit card or tht obese bank balance
NO,its definately not about tht hairstyle,tht TATTOO,tht bike, and tht cute ,dumb thing who thinks how exciting it wud be 2 be with som1 like U.

FREEDOM.

And we thought we understood the word.

The CARNIVAL is over.
5 days came and went with a pace tht would shame a 1800 cc ROADSTER,
or better my 1981 ROYAL ENFIELD 350 [restored] on their best days.
it has always been like that.
it has been always like tht with vacations,smiles and good-times.
they are always in a hurry to leave.

i love the pujo...i love the smell of the air ,the light aroma of the incense,the dhak er awaj,
the lights,the food [which is not always good or cheap],meeting old friends [even the ones you dont want to meet],
searching through the dazed hundreds of MAD--OX for tht 1 special person [it ws almost a ritual for us 2 meet at the same place
,on the same occasion and say the exact same things since we parted ways....till last year]

*sigh*

i ws never particularly interested in the pandals or the protimas they housed...
im still not...
but its evrythn else tht is so enthralling.

even a guy sporting pink polka dotted shirt with white trousers,red boots and aviators at 3am in the night
dosnt seem outta place or outta this world.

thts d magic...n u have to feel it to understand...or better just FEEL...dnt try to UNDERSTAND

PUJO s spelled new clothes [ lots of them],heavy pocket money,cap-pistols [designed as per the
newest SANJAY DUTT movie],n lotsa ice-cream for me when i ws an adolescent.

as the calendars rolled n i got uglier and goofier cap-pistols were replaced by
night outs with friends ,getting sloshed on cheap whiskey mixed with coke in a running
TATA SUMO,day-outs with the fairer species,lunch,PROTIMA--DARSHAN [if u kno wht i mean],madox,
dope,boot-cuts,hair gel and deodorants.

this PUJO ws different...

something has definately changed...

i felt curiously satisfied with 1 jeans and 1 tshirt.
didnt feel the urge to drink [ though NOBOMI nights pub-hoping ws fun ]
and d MAD crowd at MADOX could hardly retain its power of enchantment...for i felt more at ease
being at XAVIERS during the closing day of THE CANDLE LIGHT VIGIL FOR RIZ than i ever did in any pandal.
Inspite of my mom's incessant bickering my hair didnt seem to be needing the immediate attention
of the GUTKHA-CHEWING NAPIT of the nearest saloon.


YES...something has definitely changed.
im still trying to understand it...
will let u kno as soon as i do.

FOR RIZWANUR REHMAN
... an individual who died for a belief


My candle is burning bright
everynight it burns a little more
a little fast
with a little light

My candle is burning bright
There are masks around too
with camera craving smiles
and eyes polished white
Things said and done
for the shutterbugs plight

But my candle is burning bright
on the fire in your heart
through the tear in your eyes
I see my world
where love never dies
where a candle can wipe
cloud filled skies

A candle
My candle which is still burning bright
against the wind
against the tide
against your law
behind which you hide
fighting the fight
and lighting the night
Is my candle
that is burning bright...

tell me nothn is for ever
somone....anyone

i cant go on hating myself forever...
my visit to the asylum will be preponed by decades then...
i dont want tht ,i really dont...

no nothng is for ever....
this is just a phase and it HAS to pass away like the millions others before.
how wud u feel if u KNOW that there will be somone in this ridiculously happy world who would always HATE you for what u are...

NO not a sad resultant of a relationship gone terribly wrong
NOT an x girl friend who wanted to possess the one thing i was not allowed to give -- MYSELF

an ANGEL...
ARIANA...

im curious....how would you feel if u were hated by an angel...wudnt tht make you fell like a demon??
wudnt u start hating yourslf for being one??
how will u escape this choking feeling of being the disgraced one??
is there any escape at all??

QUESTIONS again

Oh! how i hated them once
how i hate em all the more ,now.
how i will ALWAYS hate them,forever.

but thts not possible ,is it??

nothing is forever...NOTHING.

PEACE - is tht super hot damsel in school who would refuse to acknowledge your very existence coz u ride a HERCULES MTB and not get baby lapped in a long black four wheel drive sedan,coz SHE would always elude you,excite you,tease you,tear you apart.

LIFE was meant to be simple ,wasnt it???


we are wht we are coz of the moments we had survived as juvenile wisecracks
moments we love to hate now that we have MATURED into juvenile delinquents
moments we wish never existed

moments....moments...moments

moments that never were...

moments when u wished for a moment of peace

do u remember of a moment of absolute nothingness
no friends [fortunately],no alcohol,no drugs,no blood,no smell,no hunger,no hunger,no dreams,no sleep
nothing absolutely nothing

no parents,no propaganda,no desires,no lust

no FEELINGS

yes...

no FEELINGS...nothing
no love,hate,loathe,fear

nothing....just nothing...
except an opaque screen straing back at you with its wiry fingers pointed towards you asking all the questions you had successfully managed to evade for 2 decades and 2 years.

is this a disease...are YOU infected??
i kno for a fact this cannot be hereditary
congenital??

thts a possibility

i just figured my next TATTOO...
il have a MOTH on my back...this altar is full of candles i can see...
its gonna be fun...
dnt follow me...

DECLARATION : im losing my sanity

PROMISE has its existence only in the form of an un-used toothpaste brand ,gathering dust for years in a holy corner of a grocery store with a religious name in a shabby neighborhood,coz it is too cheap to be good n probably it also sends out the wrong message to our most important society.

LOVE has been confined to heart shaped balloons tht will float no higher than the nearest telephone cable and wud resist exactly 5 mins of the ghastly wind.

TRUST is what insurance policy sellers [ the likes of my maternal unmarried aunt ] use as a emotional tissue paper to wipe off the last remaining shadow of doubt.

RESPECT is what coke sniffing,dope smoking,booty shaking and bling making afro-american rappers feel for their homies just b4 they pull out a semi-automatic n pump in an impressive number of bullets into their not-so-impressive carcass.


LIFE ....

well LIFE is a heady mixture of all of the above.
so figure.

MY BUTTERFLY

Fly,fly my butterfly
fly with all your might
with all your breathe
with all your strength
Fly,fly away
with all your fears
those priceless,ageless tears
With all the colours
With all the pain
of those overwhelming years

Fly,fly my butterfly
fly till you tire your wings
or are they called dreams?
Where bloody faces
beseech you to stay back and lament
You have to fly ,my butterfly
Dont let the colours fade
Dont burn your wings
Dont slash them with that rusty blade
This morbid easel desires
every drop of your colour
SO fly,fly my butterfly
Fly away from those sleepless nights
Away from the mirror
behind which the demon hides
Away from the blood ,the gore
This breathless chrysalis
this sickening lore
Please,i beg you
wait no more
Fly,fly till you reach the shore

i dont promise a brighter day
or a greener land
i dont promise merry faces,
no mountains,no sand
i dont promise
decorated dreams for you to see
All i promise are fleeting moments
that look like me
SO fly,fly my butterfly
fly till the flutter
of your delicate wings
nurture typhoons of innocent desires
Fly till those faces vanish
behind the shadows of maligned years


Why dont you fly ,my butterfly?
Dont let the fear alarm you
Dont be scared that you would fall
Cause on one fine dawn
you would learn how to crawl
i will be there holding your hand
i will be there when you stand tall.



SO fly,fly my butterfly
You cant stop now
You cant sigh
You cant rest
You cant lie
Cause you have to fly,my butterfly
fly,very high...



Every poem,infact every minute incident happens because of a greater reason.
its been said tht there is nothn ,absolutely nothn called COINCIDENCE.
this poem wasnt supposed to be here in this blog coz it is very close to my heart for reasons tht
some might kno and most others dont need to.
this piece is dedicated 2 d butterfly who flew very high indeed,higher than the reach of
selfish ,ignorant n arrogant mortals like myself.
THANK YOU.

half A.N.G.E.L.S.

and full D.E.M.O.N.S.




inspired by the works of PAUL BOOTH.

THE LAST TIDE

So this is my last tide
Of feelings that were
Numbed by a shallow, hollow pride
While you struggled to breathe
By my frozen side
I sought answers to
the questions that never died

So this is my last tide
With closed eyes
And a heart opened wide
I tried to be someone
Someone else whose eyes never dried
While you looked away and cried
You failed to gaze inside
I swear I tried
While you looked away and cried
I swear I tried
So this is my last tide
Yes, this is my last tide.

THE MAD MAN’S MANUAL

I wish to play
Like a mad man
A mad man in a
Tie-tied world of
sleek, designer illusions

I wish to write
Like a mad man
Immune to the
Plague of tiresome consciousness

I wish to fight
Like a mad man
For every inch
That was and is mine
A fight against time
And a fight against mime

I wish to fly
Like a mad man
With ink marks
Bearing names and dates
Of places and states
With moments etched
In every stone
Of every immortal ruin

I would love to
Love like a mad man
A fierce, feral
Fountain of untamed emotions
That rebels against
The whip of the social manual
And flows like
Only LOVE can

Oh! How I wish
To be a mad man
To be cured of
this chronic disease
of following dictated doctrines
replacing ideas for aeons
Doctrines vying for symmetry
Symmetry that can only compose
But not create
Create the dream called LIFE.

ELAAN workshop

role play

firstly thanx 2 all the members n organizers of the workshop.
and a special thanx 2 BIMBO for trying extremely hard 2 put up with my apparent impassivity.

THE JOURNEY.....
SO FAR...

ANONYMOUS posts again...
good ones this time but nameless,yet again...
WHO R ALL U PEOPLE???


NWYZ,
the last poem was a rather poor but desperate attempt to break open that block in my mind which had prevented me from writing for quite some months now.
i kno that utter exasperation and frantic desperation SHOWED.

VIOLENCE is a medium,a physical,brutal way of expression.
expressions ranging from anger to loathe to hatred to sadness,dejection,ridicule,embarrassment and confusion.
VIOLENCE helps.IT DOES.
VIOLENCE when confronted , when tried to look straight into its fiery eyes ,is SCARY.
i remember having frenzied attacks of fear,fear of pure VIOLENCE.
i remember feeling so violent that for moments i stopped feeling human.
moments that went on for weeks.moments when the only way to save the person i didn't know anymore and the people i knew , was a locked room,an enclosure with shut doors.
YES,it helps.
coz when i come out of that room,n smell the air ,i feel human once again,the fear is reduced and violence replaced [though momentarily] by a flow,a flow of emotions,EMOTIONS which are meant to be felt and not expressed.
n POETRY/ART/VIOLENCE are forms of expression.

YES ,a few years compiled with an embarrassing amount of tears has,but mellowed the beast down...but the fear of it starting to breathe again is overwhelming.

a certain long lost but never forgotten GEM-in-I claims i have achieved the impossible.
i have SOBERED.
n i quote "u have found a way to channelize all that anger into various productive things".
i CANT disagree,NEVER could,NEVER did...
except once and that was IT.
PRODUCTIVE THINGS like what??
i was always a scribbler
few unfortunate but rather important turn of events kept me away from my sketch board.
for years.

i always had a way with words
i did write some amazing work-of-art love letters.

n music...
OSHO urges to play whatever one can to his hearts content without thinking if its utter and unbearable noise to ones neighbors.
NO,my flute isnt that noisy and my otherwise nosy but good natured neighbors
havnt complained n i have faint feeling that they never would.
my music is very amateurish ,i admit but its music none-the-less n its beautiful.

but i guess i accelerated my growth in the past 2-3 years.
i started reading when i was 20.
i started writing when i was 21.
i started drawing again [thanx to ELAAN http://www.elaan.org/ & PONCHI ] when i am 22.
and i havnt started thinking yet.
so the growth isnt complete.
i guess its never complete.
in fact the race,the wait itself is the growth.
n i am GROWING.n WAITING.n RUNNING.

N u can only be with me if u can run as fast.
but i seriously doubt it.

a ballerina who once
danced to the silent tunes
of risqué insanity,
was lost in the
violent chorus
of adament frailty

do u remember her??
that wild hair
those dark eyes
in a desperate fight
to outrun the borders
drawn by the lines of
captivating kohl
fighting against the
ravenous wind tht
threatens to snub
out the last existing
piece of music
the last song
the last play
the last drawn line
the last move
the very last...

do u remember her?
how she used to
jump at the sight
of gypsy women
selling dreams in
crystal balls n tarot cards
how she used
to feel for the
used and abused
urchins who were high
on a life tht never was
how she craved
for the flower
tht never grew
for a bird
tht never flew
for the wind
tht never blew
and for her half
tht ws never you.

there is nothing
to say or do
to bring her back
u say
to bring her back to you
to a world
that was never her
to her half
that was never you...

ANONYMOUS PEEPING TOMS N BOMS

lemme reinstate wht i had mentioned in one of my former posts....
this is MY blog
so the views n reviews are MINE.
they might sound preposterous,malicious and all tht 2 all of u.
but the way i see it,thts YOUR problem
not MINE.

im not here 2 conform to a whole lotta OVERTLY CONSIOUS n OVERTLY DUMB faceless,nameless compulsive bloggers...
ur adamant effort to prove 2 a world tht isnt there how amazingly well read u r ,which in turn should naturally prove how intelligent and talented u wud like evry1 to believe u r, makes me
LAUGH.
So thanx for the humour you all so generously provide.

n next time if u wanna comment try not hittin the ANONYMOUS tab.

www.elaan.org
ELAAN

Thanx PONCHI... u have no idea how much i respect u for this.

n THANX ELAAN.

i would love to quote lines n rhyme sentences

but for today

just for today

i would rather my silence speak

...

THANK YOU for everything.

im surprising myself....and scaring too
im writting too much...all of which is absolutely abstract...
and TOO much is not good.
my lines have stopped rhyming for some months now.i was worried but not anymore.
the fear of being an outcast has fortunately stopped scaring me.
but the crocodiles havnt.neither have those hammerhead and great whites.

i have been sketching a lot too...mostly cathartic...
its new to me coz i have never NEVER used drawing/painting/sketching as my cathartic medium.
i have been drawing lotsa angels - sensuous,voluptous,broken,dejected,rejected,tempting,sad,morose,vindictive,evil,traumatised,LOST.

Wht i would like ....NO....LOVE to do now is boxing or freetsyle running.
but i cant.
but i WILL ...somday.

few days back directed by an impulse at 3oclock in d night i happened to look up [NO ,i didnt see the ceiling fan,i was outside ]
through the leaves of my personal coconut tree [i saw it from the day it was planted] i saw the sky.
DARK,BLUE,LIMITLESS,DEEP,SENSUOUS,TEMPTING,INVITING,SEDUCTIVE
juz like my angels.
and the starz ,like jewels on the crown of a rogue princess destined to be the gypsy queen somday,somtime.
and then it DAWNED on me...i juz cudnt remember the last time i had looked up to see my sky...i forced myself to think ...but hell...i just cdnt remember.
how could i have been so busy ,how could anyone be so busy ???

the sky is beautiful ,u know.
it needs some appreciation...some clean honest attention.
its beautiful.

people are so pretentious...they used 2 amaze,shock me once but now i suppose i hav gotten used 2 d overflowing hypocrisy.
a whole lot of absolutely shameless braindead pseudo articulate intellectuals with ZERO self esteem.
They would go to any extent,say anything and do evry fucking thing to convince you,try and make you trust them.
WHY???
i have no idea.

i just dont understand these people....i just DONT.
its not tht i didnt try,i did...but just not my mug of beer.

a faker with a fancy cam offering help ...
HOW??? i hav no idea.
but wht i kno is tht he needs to save it for himself,would needs gallons of it ... mostly psychiatric in nature.
but thts OK coz he provides tht much-needed humour ...
he gladly becomes the joke...

people feed on attention....it seems as if its more importnt thn food nowadays.
you give them that and all they want is more .... more....MORE & MORE.....

SOCIAL GLUTTONS ....

APPRECIATION is a different story altogether...
i admit i seek it too and with a zeal that would shame the worst of them...but its not wht i wud like to term as FAKE INGENUITY.thts wht every1 is after...i think the driving force is the fear of being an outcast ... not having enof plastic poems to earn you the entry pass to the SOCIETY OF HOMER-humming hum-bees.
whts the incentive???
a few [always FAKE] words of appreciation,may b an invitation to a meaningless recital ceremony,a chance to exchange a "HELLO ,I LOVE YOUR NEW BOOK" with a certain 89 year old writer who specializes in cheap sleaze.
devouring films in a language u dont understand while you can hardly read your OWN language.
arguing with peers over a book tht outweighs its content.
or may be juz the DOG-TAG of being an INTELLECTUAL.
oh how we abuse the word.it was beautiful once,remember??

wht d hell is the incentive???
how can fear be so overwhelming that we are ready to become someone absolutely differnt??

i mean if its there,its THERE,rite??

WRONG.

i am surprised i am writting again...
didnt i just finished the last post...what the hell.
but this time il have the letters in RED.no its not supposed to mean nethn.just visual effects,they are important,even in case of an useless cathartic blog.

lets talk/write/discuss/argue bout TATTOO s.
fascinating arnt they??
a monumentous help from the daughter of the coolest mother on this side of the ganges made the impossible seem passe.
an almost divine co-incidence featuring a fellow poet with confused roots and a failing eye-sight and a proud anglo/mexican with a very impressive past hailing from the land of the gang with tattoos,a relationship in tatters and pretty much nothing else.
all of the above introduced me to the world of serious inking.
the needles,the ink,the smell of dried blood,the art.
its a ride.wild one.
i learn fast.n this time i have impressed myself.
the best thing about tattoos is its like skulpture...its there to stay,the parmanency [if there is such a word] is intriguing,satiating.

the gap between the words is slowly decreasing.
i can feel it.

running thru the coloured pages of som1 elses blog ,that common yet long forgotten urge 2 write forced itself into my barren brain....
isnt it strange how keyboards have replaced ink and pens while a 15inch LCD screen glamourizes the pale paper...
well im not here to go against the tide...at times its juz simple fun 2 get blown n flown with it...and thts wht i decide 2 do....but just for 2night.

FRIENDS -- aah the very word brings back memories,some fond ,most others screaming BE CAREFUL NEXT TIME.
its true there is a new tide ,new people are being thrown on d god-forsaken land of ma isle...
good people,beautiful people,talented people,small people,large people.
some claim they are here to help...
but when did i ask for it???
some argue that i never had to...
havent i heard that before???
BE CAREFUL...

a power-packed bird in hibernation.
an alcoholic glutton who thinks she can fool the planet.
an honest grasshopper who shaves where one shouldnt shave.
a ditto mouse who burns rubber.
a star couple starry-eyed in their star-studded stardom.
a supremely talented slide-show stopper.
an exceptional singer who talks like she has 2 board a F-16.
a lioness who wins the best gujj in d world award.
a very small,extremely chaotic but un-ignorable lemur on a mission to save the world.

did i miss anyone??
thats a stupid question ABHI, how can u not remember that you NEVER miss anyone.
not even a thought that wants to be forgiven and forgotten like various others before and after it.
you werent MADE that way!!
OR
probably you were MADE that way!!

questions and answeres have switched roles and i, as a mute audience ,am at a loss.
but havent i felt that before??

questions...questions...
when will they stop torturing me??
another question.
arrrrgggghhhhh.

people will go to any extent to make themselves noticed,accepted,appreciated,applauded.
YES,i have seen few of them,the others have seccessfully managed to powder their faces.
a megalomaniac who competes against a hawaiian guitar in the measure of hollowness.
an artist that never was.
a poet whose poems served as a source of cheap humour to the extensive population of road-terriers in heat.


but i am not here to talk about them...they are not worth talkin bout,even a flicker of a thought is a loss.

coming back to the new tide --
its too soon to judge them
they all are nice,good,fresh and all that.
but so is evryone else???
or so it seems,ALWAYZ.
so...
BE CAREFUL...

the lil one slapped one adjective on the other.
but i dont blame her.people are judgemental.thts wht makes us human.the fatal fruit burdened us with the cursed power to judge and so we use and abuse it.thats normal.thats human.

i would rather choose indifference.
i would rather choose to forget,not forgive,mind you...just forget.
an act that took years,tears and an obscene number or innocent,mutilated souls to perfect.
SORRY but i NEEDED it.

i would write,i will have to.
i dont care if a certain OSHO thinks its vomit.its my puke newyz and the lech is buried sixteen feet under or burnt into thin air.so who cares.
i would write bout those years of confusion.
i would write bout you and you and you and you and you and you too.
i would write bout you all.
i would write bout you three too.
it might not make sense,but thats the point.
its my turn 2 serve questions.
its my turn to FEED.

I WUD LIKE 2 WRITE SOMTHN 2NITE

nethn,absolutely nethn

a poem
a para
an essay
a small note

nethn,absolutely nethn wud do

but im scared
tht i wont deliver justice 2 wht i might write 2nite
im juz too strained
too tired
dry drained
all this motion
has stressed my language
and 2nite i am without a rhyme
without a word tht cud have emoted
but i wud have liked 2 write 2nite

nethn ,absolutely nethn
but i decide 2 stay awake
and WAIT....

stop expecting so much from me.....

all of u...

i am not here to deliver

to answer

to explain

to be held responsible...

i kno....u all wud like me 2 be a lil of evrythn above...

but u all NEED 2 understand i wasnt made tht way...

i have no answers....
so stop questioning me...


i dont have any explanation
so stop expecting one...

i cannot CANNOT be responsible
so PLEASE,i beg u,PLEASE

lemme BREATHE....dont smother me with those wide eyes filled to d brim with
expectations in all shapes ,sizes n forms....

lemme BREATHE PLEASE....

i dont feel like writing tonight
i really dont
my mind is in a queer
my hands are quivering
with pure loathe and fear
the antidepressants dont work nemore
the pills ,the smoke
fail to choke nemore
not even one single moment of peace
not even one

i dont feel like writing tonight
i really dont
failures dont scare me anymore
not evn once
not one flicker of the eye
not one moment of pure agony
not one thought has gone astray
they are all here
safe,sound n bound
with me
i can feel the strength
betraying my clenched fists
and i kno i am losing it
i can sense it
but im allowed to do nothing
nothing at all

they are not here
not a single one of them
time is running out
dont they kno they are late?
i scream out 2 them
to her
they are not here
not a single one of them
they are late
she is late...

i dont feel like writing tonight
i really dont
but im allowed to do nothing
nothing at all....

Were you sleeping that night,my BARBIE??
Were you busy resting
your fake plastic eyes??
Or,were you frisking with
fancy dresses in your dreams??
While those licentious eyes
devoured the blue juvenile stream
Were you,i ask
Were you lost in your whim??
You must have been busy
that night,my BARBIE
How else could you not
hear my scream??
We had a pact,didnt we??
you promised you would
save me from him.

I searched for you,my Barbie
you were right where
i had left you
Alone,plastic,cold and new
For that one fateful moment
Oh how i wish Barbie
How i wish i were you...



TO ELAAN....

this is my age
this is my page
this is my rage
my own,my very own
my flesh ,my blood
the dreams i died for
the deaths i dreamed of
during those orgasm oriented
phoney breathes
that forced me to
live one more day
or so i thought...

now i am breathless
once again
i am lifeless
once again
senseless,ageless,priceless
and dog-tag less
i stand stripped
of selfish virtues
and arrogant desires
that once made me human
or so i thought...

I Was Dead

i was dead
i came alive
i was tears
i became laughter

all because of love
when it arrived
my temporal life
from then on
changed to eternal

love said to me
you are not
crazy enough
you don't
fit this house

i went and
became crazy
crazy enough
to be in chains

love said
you are not
intoxicated enough
you don't
fit the group

i went and
got drunk
drunk enough
to overflow
with light-headedness

love said
you are still
too clever
filled with
imagination and skepticism

i went and
became gullible
and in fright
pulled away
from it all

love said
you are a candle
attracting everyone
gathering every one
around you

i am no more
a candle spreading light
i gather no more crowds
and like smoke
i am all scattered now

love said
you are a teacher
you are a head
and for everyone
you are a leader

i am no more
not a teacher
not a leader
just a servant
to your wishes

love said
you already have
your own wings
i will not give you
more feathers

and then my heart
pulled itself apart
and filled to the brim
with a new light
overflowed with fresh life

now even the heavens
are thankful that
because of love
i have become
the giver of light



---- RUMI

ALL APOLOGIES...

APOLOGIES...

i dnt have nethn 2 hide nemore...
i tried painting my face...
i tried tht scented powder...
i tried lookin away from the mirror...
i even tried hurling tht single
piece of stone from my soul..
it didnt break...not even a single scratch
mirrors have always been strong in my life...

i owe u a little more than my little life...

APOLOGIES for foolishly tryin 2 ignore your fierce stare...
APOLOGIES for tryin 2 distort the face looking back at me for selfish reasons...

ESTELLA is sick...

burn me all u can
hate me all i deserve
hurt me till u tire your speech
kill me till im scared of takin a rebirth...

u deserve 2...
u ALL deserve 2...

i have been a hurtful megalomaniac in search of somthn tht does not exist ...
should not exist as long as the mirror is breathing...
i started somthn tht i didnt have the right sense 2 end,coz of the simple fact tht it shdnt have been started in the first place...

so

burn me all u can
hate me all i deserve
hurt me till u tire your speech

but when ur busy slaughtering my maligned soul...
plz remember to overlook my ESTELLA...

SHE IS SICK...

L.O.V.E.

AIMLESS TEARS OF TONIGHT

Tonight the tears
have no name
no reason to flow
no reason to live
and breathe
in this barren wasteland
of my forsaken world

Tonight the tears
have no face
no aim,no virtue
no right
to moisten the
heart wetted by
the crimson droplets
of an invisible and nameless agony


Tonight the tears
are my only company
Obstinately refusing
loneliness to reign supreme
Tonight the tears
are sympathetic flutes
of sophist spirits
trying to reason
with an unruly conscience


Tonight the tears
are my JULIET,my ESTELLA
my EVE,my DELILAH
savouring the warm embrace
of the first showers
of the dark rain
The known fear
The intoxicating pain

Tonight the tears
are a preaching sage
An empty cage
A warriors rage
And a poets page....
Tonight the tears
are bearers of foolish dreams
magic spells
and inane whims..

Tonight the tears
cease to clear
my failing vision
Cause all i see
is this inexhaustible darkness
All i feel
is your incessant absence
And all i hear
is the silence of the sky
mourning the exile
of the outlawed clouds...

THE WITHERING FLAUTIST

Crawling towards the silent apogee
of a certain lost battle
Your body gives away
under the colossal burden
of the evanescence of life
With few unknown
unrecognized,unfinished
dulcets as your vestige embellishment
you recite truth
through the lies of your flute
and dream of the wild roses
nourished by your body
that would spread
the mellifluous fable of your heart
to the cadaver of this craven generation

You dream and you crawl
while you walk past
the pinnacle of soulessness
The tunnels of distorted doctrine
reach the nadir
of a mindless search
for the ever transient truth
of this ever transient world

Yet your spirited verve
takes the form of
a smitten zephyr
and music flows
from your penurious flute
as the pellucid water
from the holy spring
and resuscitates many
a withered soul and being
gives many a face
many a dream....





THANX old man...
for a piece of ur dream...

n thanx .... my AIR.....

ONCE AGAIN


You had to come
The wait is finally over
The clouds have vanished
The darkness has been banished
The sky seems to be blue again
the earth green
and feelings
red with anticipation
wait for the moist wind
that had betrayed
the cursed land of
my burdened soul
for what seemed
ages of interminable loneliness

And then you came
With the sun
With the rain
The dyed clouds
dropped tears in vain
My fear saw
the EDEN taking shape again
On nimble steps
i stepped on the same old lane
i could see your wound
i could feel your pain
The heavens above
showered its blessed rain
It cleansed away every stain
vestige feelings of past disdain
And then you came again
With sceptic negligence
you loosened the rein
The stallions of fervent passion
galloped the fertile plain
They breathed,they lived,they dreamed
Again,Once again.....

MY BLUE EYED BALLERINA – THE SKYWALKING QUEEN

The drum beats,the criss-crossed poles
the dangling tattered rope
The mortals
Foot firmly grounded
to the empathetic earth
Eyes wide open of some
Most blinded by a snobbish apathy
Look up at you ,my Queen
My blue eyed ballerina
You ruled the road
You ruled the scene
I saw you walking the sky
on the wind,through the clouds
walking,running and flying
Eyes transfixed to that unknown
Point of infinity
For that one moment
You were airborne
I saw you fly

Mathematics fused with a
sinuous logical law
validated by the falling apple
And the dying thinker
forced me out of my impolitic trance
As I sipped my drink
and saw you ,my Queen
My blue eyed Ballerina
How you ruled the road
Oh! How you ruled the scene

Some cheered
Others hurled numbered pieces
of shiny polished steel
A token of half-hearted appreciation
for your rope walking skill
Your patriarch collected the coins
Which promised the evening meal
Did he know that you wanted to fly
fly higher still?

I saw you slither down the pole
The flight was over for you, my Queen
And you came to me with your bowl
Conscious of your glancing look
I placed a coin and let it roll
You went from man to man
Like a rogue princess
On her royal stroll

Down came the rope, off went the pole
Towers of shining coins
Now adored your broken bowl
You looked happy in that
frayed skirt ,unkempt red hair
raw ,uncorrupted soul
The envy of the falcons
Who could never play your role