Fragile dreams

The shinning eyes and
perked lips
The softness of voice
and your touch
A longing in the eyes,
for the tears,
A Clown bows
to welcome his fears.

Night, it lit,
with winking stars
Trying to soothe,
the bleeding scar
In search of flight,
it was a speedy drive.
Over the barren lands,
travels an stifled cry.

Your figure seated beside,
In the grief of the night,
I saw shadows hide.
The color of polish over the nails
Diamond pendants, golden chains
Quivering lips
And lisping sighs.

Children stuck in silly play
Lonely eyes and rapture of beauty
Echoing laughter
over wind swept hay.

I try to forget and
I try to remember,
Innocent smiles
and warm whispers.
A choked heart
With fear and joy
Murmurs a litany.
Silent prayer
to somewhere, some unknown.
For forgone dreams
and lit up sweet home.

Flowers of ablution
Over joy
and sweet pain
Few for the fragile dreams
broken in the rains.

Such a long journey

By Harish Mohan

(For the uninitiated, Thane is a suburb on the outskirts of Mumbai, and about 40 kms from Mahim.)

Happiness is a strange thing. The more you try to chase it, the more elusive it seems. But I guess its real beauty lies in the fact that you can only feel it when it reaches you, not the other way around.

My watch read 11:30 as I managed to just about have a glimpse of the time in the quiet lulling night, sitting on the steps at Mahim Beach. The splendor of the city shone in its stillness for a change, as an unfinished bridge blocked the full moon, shinning down upon the waters which were doing a little dance of their own. I have always looked at Mahim Beach as the common man's beach. Sure, Marine Drive graces like a queen resting in her shade of purple, and Juhu beach is the place where a man feels alone, in the swarming sea of humanity. But the stretch of Mahim Beach upto Worli is the sea of absolute stillness, lending an ear to every man who seeks his daily solace. I can't help but overlook the young married couple, while the husband murmurs in a loud tone, enough for everybody around to hear, about his successes in life and the wife looks on with a forced awe, probably out of her necessary captivity to fate. The man with a ragged look, the grey moustache and the checked shirt is silent, looking endlessly at the moon. The middle aged man has heavy wrinkles, as he prepares for his customary 20 min sojourn, while sitting on the beach, before he catches the last local and boards home to find a house to run. The rag pickers play around with the shells, with the large shiny ones being stuffed in their enormous ragbags, probably the biggest prize they will ever own, one that they would probably sleep the cold night on the roads with and impressions of crowning glory in their dreams.

With these thoughts in my mind, I boarded a taxi to take another expedition of its own sorts, as I prepared to catch the 1 hour train taking me across the city while showcasing a million little journeys in itself.

Getting down at Matunga station is a nightmare of sorts for those who always know where the next road leads. In the midst of total darkness, I shuffle, with skepticisms to guide me initially, only to be replaced by a total elation at finding myself with nowhere to go and just walking in the tunnel. The slow , idyllic walk is stopped with a mind numbing sight. A crippled mother , of about hardly 4'5 in height with disheveled hair, was combing her daughter's hair, just about matching her as she stood. The mother looked with eyes of promise at her beautiful young child and as I passed by in absolute numbness, somewhere I could hear the mother say to her "You are going to be beautiful someday, my child". I suddenly realize that I have to rush and run, whereby I just about manage to catch the last local and to my amusement, I find the compartment empty.

It is boarded, not surprisingly, by people from all walks of life, all bound by the two things that drive the city today, circumstance and necessity. At the entrance of the carpet, is a nearly naked old man, with strands of unkempt white hair laid out bare, as he sleeps like a child never wanting to wake up. Three old men, with their namaaz caps on, look towards the sky from their windows, murmuring their prayer, presumably. Despite enough places to sit, I go across to a group of people who stand to take in the unique Mumbai winds.

The Mumbai Winds. Sharp and cool at the same time, refreshing to some, a necessity to others. I watch a man, wearing the what is now common sight of a neat white sleeved shirt with two buttons open. He is old and haggard, with a bead in his hand and he is mumbling his prayers too. That is what has driven Mumbai despite suffering from 3 bomb blasts and every evil that has been inflicted to it till date, the NEED TO SURVIVE. Irrespective of faith and sensibilities, every man in this city is fighting to survive. Some in the maddening rush of their lives, and some in their own actions. And having lived 2 years in the city now, I have come to peace with such an act.

As the stations arrive one by one, I realize that this compartment is full of cripples and 'differently abled' people as this is the compartment of handicapped. I would have loved to say that I actually did not feel out of place, but the truth is, the only thing that i felt there was the feeling of dwarf ness. I felt like a midget before their spirit to live and to fight. The stations rushed by and gave me the once again familiar sight of apartment after apartment as I entered the suburbs, and the urban chaos around them.

As I finish my 45 min walk, with music in my ears as an accomplice during this journey of rediscovering life, I realize that every man has his own story to tell and his fortune to weave. And this journey that they undertake in their lives is a far greater battle than the one which I had just experienced.

Harish Mohan

Bright Side of the moon

Candidly speaking, birthday parties usually have not been with much jubilation for me. I must secretly confess that I have found attending or celebrating those a bit discomforting. And I must say, I have never walked the extra mile to dissect this eccentricity, until today. I realize that this is primarily because often I have got invited to birthday celebrations of persons I have been least acquainted with. I have noticed many a times, that as a matter of courtesy or may be norms of social networking, people get invited to places where one silently feels completely out of place. And in spite of the awkwardness of standing aloof in the midst of a celebration a with the plate in hand, smiling and greeting unknown but familiar faces, I have attended most of them. I do not know as to why do people have to put with something like this. For the rich I guess its networking, business, politics, wine, dine and women. Money, I guess teaches one to socialize. I guess that’s how it is between the rich and affluent. Though that’s only wild guess as my familiarity with that social circuit is limited. As for the general category of simple, humble, generous and jealous, I guess its sheer out of courteous respect for the invitation itself. As for me I put up with such social gathering purely in hope for great food and to devour the ornate visual delight. And by gods grace, relished both on rare but memorable moments. Secretly I have desired for soothing drinks to be a part of all such functions and sadly come to realization that it is still consider a taboo. Unless the functions of catholic or Sardar. But often I have gotten around with that impediment too. It is shameless is a pre requisite to squeeze joy from certain occasions.

But, then that is about me, sharing the celebration of people I know by face and not necessarily by deeds. Overall such parties just come and go with the residue of images of ladies that were not to be. But then its entirely different when it is with the closed ones. Till date those celebrations amongst a close knit circle have remained modest and occasionally marked by grandeur submerged in river of alcohol and great food. And of course these instilled like caressing touch of feather over memories.

Such was the case with a birthday party this Sunday. It was unplanned, with no balloons, no iced cakes and indeed of course no gifts. But of course a common present from all the invitees for the birthday boy. Invites?lets say just a bunch of guys who knew that they had to bump into each other some where in the noon. From the flexibility of venue and timing, to the expectations narrowed to zilch, marked this day.

For some reason, I knew I had to buy a cheap, but censored gift to kick start my home coming to the party. So bang in the noon I took a taxi ride and traveled over the sea’s to the tambourine woman and played my role. On the other side of the town two guys were lurking the street s of Bandra, looking for the single most luxurious gift that would imbibe the day the neat corners of memories. Obviously it was unintentional and unexpected but it turned out to be something that dipped the moments into flavors.

From the gentle howl of the friends calling us from the dimly lit room, I knew the party had begun. And then I eyed the valued gift for the day which supposedly has its righteous place in the cauldrons of the rich, gently resting on the humble floor. And even as it laid itself on dusty floor, it seemed very much at its graceful best with soothing welcome warmth around it. Perhaps it could also sense the feeling of belonging with the audience.

It was nothing less but the delight of Jack Daniels itself- the brand, the vogue, the statement for the moment. The most wonderful sight was the shine in the lascivious eyes of pride and greed to savor exotic smoothness on the palate. I noticed the rascals had inaugurated the beauty just a short while before our arrival, but of course, that was expected and I’ve learn to overcome jealousy. Nevertheless, soon we all watched the sweet poison drip over the ice cubes. Tumbling and tossing over ice cubes. As as I gasped the sight of rising cold misty fumes from the ice I could empathize its arousal by viscous ness of a première whisky. And as I lay there learning the definition of exquisite class, we all raised toast to Jack Daniels and Ambrishh Singh.

We celebrated the day barely two pegs as each individuals share of luxury. But I am sure we felt content, glad. And gently the chilled drink provided the much need warmth for hearts. Soon few bites of biryani were devoured from single plate with recollection days of brother hood running in back ground. And while savoring each sip of whisky, the conversations drifted from the good, the bad and the ugly in the world, to the sweet dreams behind the private eyes of the birthday boy. Over all it was a light hearted affair. And for a while as we played music, we all got lost in the moment. The soft numbers played, the eyes got closed, sometimes the plectrum played on the strings and sometimes hands rose up and fingers played over scales of piano in empty air.

And while I lay there I had thought about the cherished birthdays from the past and approaching birth days. And about many such celebrations that are lined up in the passing year and in the early season of the new year. Over the coming months many people will take new adventures, and I hoped all such celebrations are a light-hearted affair, some marked in grandeur of luxury and some with serene humility. I wish, all such days would be joyous with food, drinks and the ladies, all in sync with the music. And more of such days shall keep coming and bring in new dawn as to make them a celebration of life itself for the moment. And I sincerely wished they are lined up with Jack Daniels dripping the moments in culmination of desires blended with grace and pride and the perfect harmony of senses and music.

The Open Window

By Harish Mohan alias AsExplainedByJunkie.....

It’s been a long time. Lately, through conscious means, I became a victim of THE ROUTINE. After what seemed like an age of reluctance, I persuaded myself to collect the will required to be happy by waking up, walking the dirty road to the office, and sit numbed in front of a cubicle for 8 hours, hit the gym and sleep. Today was a little different. Thrilled by the desire to be detached and inconsequential, I left office early enough to walk a road that I have not walked for quite a long time now.

The alleyway where I go to collect my stuff from is a topic fit for a painting itself. It sits just next to the main road, which on most of the days, is bustling with the noise of drums, ‘Bhiku-Matre’ dances, and begging urchins. You walk out of that noisy blare to turn right into a pitch dark, extremely narrow alley. It’s difficult to decide on a first glance, what haunts you more, the silence in the air and in the faces around, or the stench emanating from unwashed clothes and burnt fish collected at one corner. I step down to 3 stairs and enter a cramped, one room with two little girls fighting over a beautiful doll. Interrupting their session of joy, I blurt out a meek ‘Dus ka’. The ‘pudiyas’ are taken and having got the gear along, and head for my lush and huge society.

Here’s how this works. I get back to my home, switch off the lights, switch on the laptop and the music system and start to roll. After a while, when I awake from my lull in total darkness, I find myself in love with the short restless walks that I take across the hall while the music guides me through my mind. My mind runs in a series of flashy images, each promising a vision of the great beyond. Then, as the angels of imagination always do, they give me a symbol.

The symbol that I am about to talk here is that of the open window in a dark room. The best view is to look down, across the play ground where the children are cherishing their best moments of the day. This is nothing but a sight of absolute and pure joy, as little tots run around in playful glee, wishing for time to cease still. Over looking the play ground, is the by now familiar sight of lines and lines of skyscrapers and apartments, where each flashing light in a house tells a different story. There is of course, the story of the young girl, about 16, angelic in demeanor, with expressions of forlorn and lost love on her otherwise sweet face. The balcony, a refuge for the soul, in real estate terms, also plays gallery to a different shades of characters. There are the couples, each weaving their own spun versions of ‘A Promised Life’. There is the frantic dance of the young kid with dreams in his eyes and a hope in his heart, while he kicks around the football with his own visions of a prosperous future.

It is a period of total objectivity and one of the best substitutes for the brain numbing, de-sensiting medium of entertainment which is aptly called ‘The Idiot Box’. Here is the connoisseur of art, looking at a picture which he can only dream of. A portrait of the vast canvas of life, enacted in different colors, each conveying its own meaning and depth. Of what arises, and has happened to all those people who have always stood by the open window and made this their haunting ground for life, I cease to comment. But this, I hope serves as a platform for all those people who attain their idea of peace and serenity in the quiet chirps of the bird at dawn/dusk, and share their smiles with those very tots during their precious moments of joy.

So, what do you see out of the OPEN WINDOW?

P.S: Could not have helped but to take these thoughts and post before like many words which get lost in time. I hope the guy manages more of the wonderful insights or rather outside view of what lies in inside or whatever and keeps more of such amusements coming in. Brilliantly Crafted though!. And the pleasure is all mine ! :D

And he had no time to rework

With great pain he opened his eyes, the scorching piercing beams from the sun blinded him with light. “I wish I would have lived in the blur of light and not haze. How cruel !”, he thought. Above the sky was blue with not a cloud in sight which would cover the sun and provide the little needed relief. He saw two vultures hovering over him, squealing and thirsty for his warm blood. He felt the beads of sweat and the sharp pain on the cut of lips. He put his tongue out and tasted his bitter-sweat some what tangy blood. “Couldn’t have been better eh?” He thought and smiled at the sky.

How could it come to this, How?, he wondered. He was lost in his thoughts. Even now, even at this juncture in his life the questions hanged on like a child’s nightmare. He commanded his senses, “for once for a little while, just shut up, shut up. But he could not have helped it. It held there like a mirror with the same old reflection of his youthful reflection”. And eh wondered, desperately, trying to find out answers to the Hows, whens and whys, at least now ?

He was supposed to be a fucking Super Man. How in the hell did he end up with his ass lying on the burning sand. And the moment he thought of it, he smiled at himself. The pain from the lips rushed like a thunder and sharply hit the brain, and he pressed his eyes close, just to forget and absorb the painfulness of every thing in life and smiled again. That’s your idea of courage and heroism. What a hero you are, who would suck it all up and yet manage to bring a smile at your burning thirsty stingy lips. That has been your stupid idea of bravery and salvation, he thought. Bloody masochist. And now like a helpless idiot you got to wait for it to end. Damn it!. How innocent and foolish you’ve been.

He saw a small kid standing underneath gazing up at the different bottles of chocolates, trying to make a choice. And he wondered it was only choice- that’s what he could not make in his life, but how could one have made it on chocolates and all the varied beverages. Just wishing he could have taste every thing that life’s to offer and gobble it swiftly before it was too late. And life since then was an formula one race, squealing, screeching, twisting and curling, but still grasping at every moment and grabbing the adventure. He wished, life could have stood still there in that moment under the shelves of chocolates and he would not have come under the gaze of vultures. Damn!. When did the road take this bloody turn?.

The hot wind blew over sands. He noticed his suffocation. Someone should have been there isn’t it ?. Damn!. The sands choked his breath. A little drop of water on the lips would do the magic, he thought. Just a lil wetness, and the feeling of feminie moist lips would have been awfully wonderful, but that’s a luxury he could never avail and perhaps never would. He moved his tongue over lips but to no avail, even the slightest moisture is dried up he feared. Its close. Very close. The pain had subsided. The bleeding had stopped. He was feeling slight shiver and he was scared that panic would soon take over.

“Isn’t is so bloody funny”, he thought. “It was not his moment”, he felt. He felt like he believed it. Banking all his thoughts that in a while someone would find him out. Someone across the sand dunes was destined to come and save his soul. What wrong he had done, Nothing?, at least the intentions where not malicious and deadly unlike those ideals of the cumulative human masses and there beastly selfish thoughts. Moreover he counted on his destiny which had never failed him to intervene, once again and just one last time, he wished he could gather the courage and pray for it.

Would it not been great if some pretty women find him in despair and shower her care and love and bring him out of his misery once and for all. Would it not be romantic and dramatic, he thought. Would it not be such a wonderful unique miracle he would so grandly share with his friends and loved ones, about all the adventures of little tom sawyer. Who lied dead in the Mangolian desert and then love found it s way to pull him out of his grave, he smilingly thought. And for a moment he even started making up and painting the beautiful pretty face of Liza Ray. And then her face flashed. The first girl in the school he put his eyes on. Such beauty!. Such innocence. Such confusion of mind. And the confusion lingered on. His eyes closed.

He could feel the a dried obstructing lump in throat. The panic was sinking fast inside. Some one has to come soon. Help was need badly.

Not like this! Not like this, the perturbed mind prayed. The brilliance of light compared the scorching heat of the sun. Shining with blinding whiteness till the eyes closed and tried to soothe itself in the darkness. He saw a child sitting swaying his legs, smiling, with brilliant, glittering eyes full of life and energy in front of him and then the regrets came in with a belligerent youth who with bitter insensitiveness walked out on his mother who always was with unbridled love and unfettered faith in him. Did he fail her innocent aspirations too?. How bad this is going to be!. But then he had given up on every thing on every one for it really doesn’t matter in this world. He knew the truth and eventually in every persons time, they shall know it too and had moved on in life. Moving on was the name of the game. He just wished every one would have peace in their lives and accept what life has to offer and let go of their fears and wander through the deep forests, through the river streams, across the desert and suck it all up.

The friends came in front of him. All those wonderful and cheerful people he had been with. How things changed for them too. So many stories were there to tell, few lived and many died. How they grew up like desperate bachelors and found girl friends and then eventually life partners. How sweetness in life came with its own tantalizing taste of life. And he recollected the day when they all sat on a huge table arrogant innocent on binge drinking. Pulling each others legs. Twisting every little incidence of day into a joke and those brooding heart broken lovers brooding on some unconcerned, indifferent shoulders- garnering hoards of sympathy, mutual pain and all the jokes for the next morning. And then the last toast to all those friends as mature gentleman with their devotedly loved life partners. When unconsciously life streamed the notes and tones of a melody and every one had something to relate to himself.

He felt the sharp slap of a wing on his face and nails screeched tearing through the skin and blood streamed into the eyes. It hit like a shot, like a bolt. He gained his sense for a while and thought “How something as silly as fate and destiny decides to snatch away life out from the worldly confines? Leaving nothing behind no faces, no memories, no smiles and no tears.”

His eyes rested over each other. The sun was still as ruthless as life could be and under it he lay there silently thinking to himself and mumbled the last verses he wrote :


How do you travel across the winds?
Will the wings lift or the thoughts will fly
Either way its all thy pride

Shade and light are no more surprise
Is that whats known as wisdom
Or is it just another truth about the lies.

In your love and anguish my heart cried
Oh dear shadow why did you lie
What happened to sown seed
Is that how a laughter dies?

A message from the far away skies
Swirling on winds traced the dying high
Hollow eyes found the smiling wise smile

The angels in the heaven cried
But the ones in the hell they all smile
The winds whispered gently

It’s the past, all that is
Do you now choose to die?



And he had no time to re work on "it"... damn!

Whisk in wee morning hours

Its been a long time. Long time since I had risen up at the early hours of morning. But before we talk about the dawn, there has to be a story about the night and night before that. When it was all pitch black for last two nights, I was doing "what I had to do that time, to get by". By yesterday night sleep was bickering and begging on my eye lids to gently rest on to each other. So finally yesterday night, I had my dinner, went to room, read a book and fell fast asleep in time and slept just enough long. Wonderfully like the good old time- with no taxing thoughts in head and no clog on chest. Awesome. That’s in brief.

So I wake up early this morning. Surprisingly refreshed I look at the my phone and scroll through missed calls. The last one was just half an hour back and I know the story about another story at night in another life. So I call back upon the last number in the queue, to get the morning update. As a rule I’ve been always calling up on people last in the queue. And the discussions jumps on to finding the best plans that each could do in his last hours of his day and early hours of mine. My plans being to experiment with the morning hour with morning walk, come back and scribble my plebian thoughts in cool retreat, while listening to the softest of the softest numbers and try if I could make something about an early affair with dawn. That was because I guess its been quite some time when I have casually taken morn walk or more appropriately stroll. I do not have much ardor for action at this hour. For that matter, I believe people in cities have relinquished the idea of sauntering in life. People these days don’t take brisk stroll. Rather I find most of youth walk with shoes on and marching in some sort of a parade, trying to cut some flab and actually ending up cutting the flab in head which could appreciate nature, solitude and beautiful females. For unknown reasons, I find it funny, but I guess these people feel good about things their way and they have their own choices. Or may be youth is supposed to be marching and not slumber around. That doesn’t mean that I am not youthful, its just that-not today, and I have no clue which day, I will have my liking for action. Also, I have a ready lame excuse- I have been doing quite a lot of traveling, living on a high, a wee bit hectic life filled to the brim with raunchy thoughts, bla bla bla which all drains a lot energy out of oneself. And I guess a morning like today’s for me is not about morning walks and strolls. Its just about appreciating a little welcome change in my routine, coz, in my conscious sense today, I am thinking about keenly observing my day pass by. And I have this idea, that may be every one should randomly choose a day in their life and observe how it goes by. That would be the greatest database of lives better than digging gene pool. And I suppose most of matter on the time scale would not be a pleasant graph.

All said and done, I finally have made my mind, and slowly my days plan work out and I am lost in my day dream. And if I could live it exactly as I want it to be – trust me – its so spicy ( that’s my youth talking ) that I would be the happiest person in this world. I do not know for others, but if I have to take a wild guess, many individual plans don’t work out mostly for a large majority and that’s why we are tired or dejected, unsuccessful and worn out unless we are going to party, meeting the rascal friends, a social outing, a long drive to friends place, meet your girl friends for evening drinks, coffee or best at her place alone. Smoke on the sea side with an old buddy, dinner at V.T, drinks at Sports Bar, and beds are left to your choice rather mutual choices, if you are lucky to find someone with mutual thoughts. I guess that’s all about my fun plans revolve around and if I am not wrong for the world too. That’s usual. The funny thing in my day dreaming is that I cast away the plans the middle part of the day, coz its not all that pleasing to think about it- wouldn’t the masses love to do that? but alas I have found majority pretends how much in deep love they are with their work.

To share a secret with you people, I must say, for flicker of second my mind even thought of venture through the life of Kevin Spacey as in American Beauty. At least to start the day his way,reaching the highest point of life in the day and then taking downward train . But I had no alcohol yesterday night. And seriously speaking, I have no clue if I should have shared this naughty thought in this space, but, after a second thought, I saw the bold letters in front of my eyes and heard sermons on freedom of expression, honesty and truth.

As for one let me confess, I have been awake for last one and half hour and I had sincerely contemplated about my morning “stroll” and come back and share a thought or two bout all the beautiful fields of sun-flowers, ladies picking up on roses, jasmines, how beautiful it is in the fresh air, about how butterflies flew watching all those cherubic angel-faces, about how much oxygen fed my lungs were, how lascivious my thoughts went, about how much I would feel to retain this little transmutation in routine decorum at least for the few coming days till I get tired of the early mornings. Because all said and done I seriously know it is very benign outside with a gentle fervor for life. And the fact is any one can guess that while standing in the balcony brushing teeth’s for complete five minutes, squat while reading the newspaper, take a long-long shower and setting every thing to rock and roll.

Curiously I think my plans are already tumbling, more over, I have an overwhelming reason to move out. I desperately need a smoke. So here I go. I guess certain sun-flowers are rotten. J. But I have no complains, I guess, the start is significant. And I think ramblers should ramble .

What happened was, I spoke to this guy, who suggest to get on to something, did lil tweaking and searching here and there, and finally plugged on the ear phones. It’s the soft sincerely Leonard Cohen number-
In my secret life. So the plans reshuffled.

P.S: It all went hay wire. The stroll lasted till finished my smoke and after that dusting the car, before a lasting mouth-wash, a long shower and a nice little read of Rajdeep Sardesai’s editorial in HT. I have always liked the early team of NDTV. The blatant acceptance of facts.

Sojourn in empty moment

There are such deadly moments. The most amazing thing about these is, that such moments have started to come haunting to me very badly and too often. These are times, when my head is totally numb. May be not exactly numb its just disinterested, blanked out. Something like being devoid of happiness, sorrow, sentiments and ideas. All that sounds like attaining Nirvana, but I am certain its nothing close to it, rather its like knocking on hells door. These are basically dead. At this time I have no clue what I want right now, what I want to convey, what I am thinking or for that matter I have no questions and I have no answers, and somehow I ‘ve this inkling that’s the way musings on life are.

I can’t sleep and I can’t keep myself awake. Or May be I don’t want either of both coz I really consider both of them as waste of time. I am not restless and I am not feeling like to rest. May be that’s what you’d call insomnia And I have this over whelming desire to read, but since I have got a sty thing in my eyes, I won’t find I really comforting to read or may be I have so much in front of me that making a choice is like an uncalled baffling. Rest remaining thing is music. Now, although music is like god which would save my soul in the most distressing moments as of now since I am devoid of every single sense or feeling, I do not want to insult music ( rather that’s too much to , coz at this moment I would not do justice to it- I would not close my eyes and sing it from my heart, my head won’t nod to the beats, I won’t get all those beautiful images, I won’t get the high, basically the beat would be missing in the heart beat. But still given my due respect and hope clinging to the words in the lyrics, I still would play few tracks in the back-ground. I think I wanted to groove to some song, but I think I am not going to do that, no matter what my beliefs I would find it really stupid coz I am in a perfectly sane state of my mind. Though after giving it a second thought I think probably I should pretend to be a mad man and start dancing- all alone with nothing in my head and with no viscous beverage in blood stream to tantalize the veins and no visceral thoughts to soothe my brains. I am not even interested in discussing females. It would really be boring and cliché again. I am not thinking about life neither death is amusing me.

And over and above no non-sense or gibberish talk is probably going to make sense to me and no sensible discussion is going to last my attention for long time. All I am thinking right now is may be I should check into a decent hotel room, get into a neat bathroom, take a hot shower and go find good pub or lounge and sit on the bar-counter alone, biting on peanuts and having a scotch on the rocks and watch some gibberish on T.V with undivided attention. Coz frankly speaking unlike usual times, I would not even prefer or observe the people around me. Coz I think there would not have any thing special to observe. Or even if some thing would be worthwhile observing in a pub would be discarded very silly in this moment. Or may be I would eventually go back to my hotel room end up watching some documentary on Discovery again with no great amazement or curiosity, may be the whole information would be going straight into my head as interesting piece of knowledge which could amuse me sometime later, but at this moment I would just collect the goods and intensely concentrate on listening. Then may be fiddle around with news paper, try to catch a story of interest, and since there would not be many, finish of the stories with catchy titles, some how end up finding them surprisingly interesting and get over with them. Movies would be too long to hold me on, but still might give it a shot for a while. The point is there is very little and very rare that’s left to excite me in such state of mind. It would have to be such a rare idea, talk, movie or song, so special something has to be that even I have no clue as to what it possibly can be.

It’s a feeling sometimes I get while I am on a long drive or a long bus ride or a long train ride. When everything tends to begin as mechanical as it could, and yet there is something my sweet mind keeps seeking something ahead in the destination or in the journey that I am to begin. When eventually I enter a train, bus or plane nodding and smiling and making eye contacts and yet looking for my lucky seat which in all probability would want to be comforting and with a little privacy of my own. When I would most probably try to look around if I could commune with any one and end up disappointed to finally pull out the book, read it for a while, turning each page slowly and steadily at my own sweet pace. Finally resting it on lap and eventually leave myself resting myself on to windows and the eyes watching the out side world- the wilderness, towns, shabby and humble hutments people in dhotis and baggie pants, animals, birds, green hills, vast yellow fields, shining streams, marvelous bridges, railway crossings, landscapes, sunrise and sunset pass by, one after another. May be some mp3 player would come handy, rather very handy at times.

So is that I am dead, I wonder. But I think I am not. I might feel no life. But the amusing thing I have discovered is that, it is in these dead or empty moments that I feel alive.

That’s the best part of traveling, it gives you empty time and you feel nothing but alive.

The good news is I have started feeling this way during nights while alone in my room also.

A comment that became blog!

I was going through your post about self discovery and I do not know ..but I think since that time I was commenting on it … I went on with it.. only ….to find…

Its just a matter of time before one realizes the truth about oneself. And the truth about oneself would dawn upon when one would have given up on almost every thing, given up on desires, dreams, aspirations and hopes, this salvation would turn would come only once one is satiated with his/her desires to the brim of endless human gluttonous senses. That’s my view and since it is very convenient to accept for the whole world, I hope they’ll tread this righteous honest ugly path of human psych.

Thing is eventually you have to give up on every thing, in any case, you’d just be so bored with every single thing that’s materialistic and the fight to achieve your salvation, that you’d indeed give up on every thing.

And the irony is once you've overcome everything over all stupid meaningless sentiments that you'd fall in love with everything, every fleeting second. Coz you'd realize that this is all you have. All these moments which have to be filled with all things that you wanted and beseeched, before letting it all vanish in the oblivion. You would go frantically looking for every moment rich and decorated in purity and bliss of whiteness, of peace.

Now coming to the core issue, I think Johnny has too much life in him. I think Johnny doesn't want to sleep and wants to live every moment of his life. Johnny wants to sit behind a friend who would drive him across the highways, . Johnny wants to live life, for hes running short of it all the time. He wants too much from life, and he demands it from his life, his body and every single mitochondria in his living cells. He would explode his guts and emotions to create a vacuum within and then implode to suck all the beauty around him and every moment within him, which would never escape till the grave, the lasting taste of beauty on the palate forever, he wants to see all the world, travel places, watch people, observe the absurdness of life, write about it , talk talk talk about all the gibberish that’s in the world. Find fun in utter non sense and gracefully show the world the intended "pun" when lord said let there be light ..and mischievously smiled at humanity and humans. So he would go commit the seven deadly sins, each fucking seven times and he shall have his hearty laugh all the while and then when he would know why they those would commit sins are cursed, he shall have his salvation and become god who justs preach the world.

Johnny wants to live every breadth, find joy in the cover darkness when he is at rest. Johnny wants to fall in love, be loved all the while coz he know s what he is and he knows what’s the value of life. Those who would love him, he shall be with them forever. Those who don't love him, he would love them still. But Johnny has his life, and its only his and its the only thing he has got.

And you know Johnnys not a loser, for he has lost every thing and he knows there is nothing worth in the life to be lost, except peace, beauty and life itself. Johnny is not a repulsion to humanity, rather he is a lover of humanity and repulsion to society, and detests the lie which beautifies and signifies civilization. Civilization which is nothing but a mean self interest driven book of norms which denies the originality of humans themselves. Johnny loves and respects all the brilliant minds in this world, all the people who've excelled in their passions, its just Johnny has not found his own. Hes come across it several times, but hates for himself for he never treaded the path. Johnny knows hes wasted a lot of brilliant talent and watched a lot get wasted around him. He feels sad for it. And that s about it, nothing more nothing less. Its only a matter of time, when you Johnny would let go of cocoon around him and go out and reach for the stars. Just be free from himself and fears that haunt all the germinating seeds of been squashed away to emptiness.

And to tell you now honestly its all like this. Sometimes you are so full of restlessness, energy and an overwhelming desire to please yourself and your loved ones that you would race through the traffic, taking sharp cuts and sifting through it will full energy and enthusiasm and overtaking every one. And then there would be occasions that you would just follow the single lane, letting people overtake you but would not lose your pace and just go at your constant average speed, unbothered and unfettered. That’s what you are. Moody should be the word describing it, but I guess its more than that. Its more about exercising the freedom of your choice. And you want every thing on your whims and fancies. And you are so unchained from every single human sentiment and ego that there would be times when you would be haughty to exercise your freedom and then there are those dead moments when you would be so free to relinquish your dreams and just move on like a dead man because probably you’d have nothing better to do, but to let go of them and make it all a dream in itself. That’s what you’d like- absolute freedom of thought- may be to the extent of day-dreaming and you would probably fight an argument that’s what’s bloody wrong in day dreaming if that keeps you happy. And you probably will repent for having even the least of that idea, because you know there is nothing like an absolute freedom and happiness. That’s the whole fuck up. You never want to repent on any thing coz there is nothing to regret upon in this world. And yet you would repent on every action of yours which turned out futile. You know the very fact that Johnny could swing the magic wand and would have changed every thing if he would have focus fixed for a little while, and you regret that he did not do it.

Johnny would believe in himself and yet will not put faith in his beliefs, for they seem to be so stupid. And Johnny would know himself, Just if ..and that’s the killing IF.

And Johnny wants to preserve the child within. Johnny loves all the individuals who love peace. Johnny immensely loves his life. Jo And the only the thing that Johnny hates is the world. And he has to live in it. :D…. And all you could do is turn the comment of life into a blog !!! …

If I may let my analytical mind do the analysis. I’ll tell you what Johnny s are, draw the matrix. Column C1, Cµ, R1 and Rµ, those are the rows and columns which define you, all the extremes and the boundaries, and within all that is what you see is abstract which indeed is reality. Strike a fucking balance in madness bro:D

P.S : I think, the bandwagon has not passed. I guess theres no point in thinking bout that..coz I think its passed. You could do so much. Look around when you are sane. Look at misery and apathy, you have found in with rickshaw wallas, at jhupps, with bhairav singh, or is it life that you saw ? - its all fun man. We will find a resolve soon. Its just a matter when we can dare to have that first step, over come in the resistance and fears within and reach forth, high. up. blooming and shinning and touch light. Touch the light of abstractness or abstract light whatever. We all indeed have so much choice to break loose and leave in the lost paradise, on The beach.

And I would love to watch you dare that first step…. :D..Set and example.

…………May be I concur.

Mellow High !!

Reflect back. One can’t ever bid past good bye and come back to life with a bang. Not always. Rather never. Certain things come with nostalgia that’s such a wonderful mellow high. A pristing pure moment of bliss. I don’t know, I resist coming to terms with the present. And time and again, I am reminded, life’s beautiful. Cherish what you had and gaze into the distant horizon seeking the gentleness in future. For all the faces, all the back grounds that’s so firmly instilled in your memory, like the bitter sweet taste of vintage wine. Often in this fast paced life, people would party the whole night, trying to live each moment of present and then wake up with a terrible hangover forgetting every thing that was celebrated, just to be reminded once again bit by bit.

All good things come in three. Few amongst most people who always were and always are behind me. Keeping me rooted to the real world.

Age no bar, caste no bar, money no bar, color no bar, creed no bar, sex no bar:D. When nothing bound you but the the idea of ideal life and you even gave it all up, just to live life in a moment. But life lingered, with your silent sigh as a residue.




















Monkeys or Langoors !!! :).

If just they were not in the frame, The landscape would have been so pleasing!




Thats every thing that he took away. That s everything that everyone takes away.
I could not help but to notice with mixed feelings and morbid confusion the T-shirt said- Punk.
Desperately avoiding the gloom to take over, all I can do is helplessly wish hes in peace.

View from home. Dark clouds looming over the green hills.




Rock star s and super stars..!. Young, beautiful and confused. Sing a song and prove me wrong. I hope at least one to stand and shriek out loud for every one to hear - dreams die hard!

There are infinite such moments which make up any life. And every time I have come across these reflections the feeling comes as though I am running out of life and I try to gather and rummage through everything, every second in the hope that these remain clipped in coming moments forever.


P.S: Except for two, the other snaps are courtesy Haria. And I hope the that a few people whom I've been pursuading to share my moments and the other snaps do that at the earliest.

Just Bizarre

Ladies and gentleman, right now I have decided. Decided about making a decision. A final-final decision. Sorting every inch, every shred of doubt about every thing however timid and trivial and tear through the deep narrow harrowing dark freaking valley of confusion and come victories with one single commandment dug on the stone and show the world and if they don't care, keep it always dangling on my ugly hairy chest. The last commandment which every sad pathetic soul should understand in the simplest comprehensible fashion. And this shall be thys religion or my religion or whatever. Tonight here under one roof and four walls with no fresh air, surrounded by my folks, relatives, friends, in the midst of my room with so much noise in the head, I have decided finally for the decision to be made tonight, and I am preparing myself for it. I shall sleep now in the evening ( I need to sleep man badly ! for any thing to be thought about ) and wake up again in the night, and venture out and think hard hard and harder..... and today I know after enough intellectual blood have moistened the ashes I shall snatch it from the clutches of misery and mystery. And I beg to the lord that, no distraction should come my way and tonight has to be tonight. The fucking night.

With full honesty, I shall confess to you my audience however small in number or may be only my vanity, I tried really hard to think or rather I really tried hard to think whatever fuck it be. Get the sense ok. Now before I loose it all, man, I want to finally say, I tried. After enough deliberation on thinking and no spark of idea, nothing sparking up, I got exhausted. There are these moments of sanity where-in one is so deeply rooted to the real world and no matter how hard he/she might think they just can’t achieve the escape velocity. I just wondered why in the gods names it was this moment tonight. And finally, I gave up and decided- nothing doing man, now whatever first occurs to you is your principle, foundation stone whatever it be, it's the-the most important thing of damned crazy life and of others and I shall be Moses. So just trust the instincts.

And I closed my eyes, trying to cut myself from every thing and every possible thinking and with all that madness repeatedly shouted at myself to think to cut off, impatiently begging something to fucking bloody pop up and then finally-finally uttered the magic word. I spoke to myself ”Try to be happy “. And in the middle of the haze, the smoke, the confusion of mind, for a second, I was like repeating myself without giving slightest reason to my big discovery and uttered joyously again and again “Try to be happy–Try to be freakingly happy and relax. And you shall find you are and life will be beautiful and world will be wonderful!” Yuppy ! Ureka. No matter fucking what ! You’ll stay happy. I felt great.

But suddenly like that thumping scaring knock on the door while in that so ever lasting life time orgasm, this stupid voice uttered from behind, “You mean, try to be happy. Tryyy-to-be-happy. That’s your big idea. That’s it. After all this thinking while cutting yourself from the thought process horse-shit, this is it!. This is what your mouth throws up .Try to be happy. What-a-fucking-loser man. All said and done, it suits you man. That's the basic truth for your unfunny life, not the great commandment, its more like accepting the bitter hidden truth of your life.”

For a moment I was at the pinnacle of madness and wanted nothing but to swing my head with great force and hit the rock in front of me again and again. I was dumbfounded back again to the dungeon and while I took a break figuring out an argument, I could gather nothing and said “ Hey listen happiness is very-very important, and exceptionally important concept, us and them beseech it all the time. To simplify it is so very essential you know at least for me and for every one else. Probably it is in this subdued concept that the truth of life is hidden.”

“Hey tell me, are you eluded by the great idea of happiness lying inside of you?. Forget it man. The reality is like this, you don’t have a ration card, voters Id card, Pan Card for that matter even lost your driving license. Your credit cards can’t help you to get any credit in the world, the bank bank balance figures are always like mystical mathematical constant Rs. e. “

Hey hold on …man

“Na na ..wait, over and above, destiny has been so unfair given your dashing looks and the metro-sexual persona and not one girl friend. Over that not one girl would dare too be a friend, given the gentleness with which you ogle at them.

Look man, take my advice, its for free. Get your lazy ass working out something. Slowly and steadily, happiness would follow. All that you don’t have is what all you need to be happy. Don’t look for happiness in a crazy creative outburst. It will only drive you crazy. Those, what I’ve listed out are the keys to solving the puzzle man. Those are the things that will keep you calm and composed. The first priorities in life.”

I really could not have helped myself but to argue. I know, arguments brings problem, but I can ‘t help and so I argued, “Hey listen buddy, first of all, I do believe happiness lies within inside like some sleeping beauty waiting for a ugly creative frog to kiss and wake it up. You can be happy all the time and at all the place. The trick brother, is the fact how you can keep yourself amused and excited. Believe me, any, decent, educated person who has got the credit cards, wife, girl-friend, bank balance comes across a phase, where he is lost, he bewildered by what next?, that too, if he s got the time to think about oneself. Or else he keeps spending all his life garnering hoards of cards cash and chicks. Even after all that the pathetic soul would have his own share of woes and worries. Imagine Gautam Buddha sitting underneath the tree, trying to meditate on god knows what…he looks so lost, was he unhappy?. No. He was happy in his world. He would keep himself amused in his deep thoughts, though I am not very sure what they were? I wish I knew. And moreover my dear friend trust me if you were chasing those listed priorities in your life, by the time you’ll look back, you’ll find your times has gone and the end has come and all you had was nothing but a dead residue which will hold no meaning what-so-ever. That’ll be your age and end.”

With his blank face, I knew I had failed to make a dent on his thought. He was toughened by the crude realities in the world. After a pause, he exhaled heavily, just like resigned tone of dad, “ So now you want to be Gautam Buddha ?”. “In this world, I mean In today’s world, you want to idle under the shade of a tree. Have you gone mad!. What’s wrong with you? From where I see, you really have to try hard to keep yourself happy ! “

“Its complicated for your immature brain. Why you getting so passionate about it man. Your advice is really not required. I am content, you seem to be pretending fulfillment! “

The voice told me , " Shut the fuck up man!. I don't need any pretension on this silly thought of yours. You try to be fucking happy o.k. I am all right. You are getting sick! ".

"Sick! What do you meaning sick man! Where are you taking this.... in any case..See you don't have courage to say you are happy ... just look how you lost your temper...”

The voice in a very polite and gentle tone said,” Ok, I am happy, alright?. Calm down. I just don’t agree with your idea of trying to be happy man. You know it very well it’s the constant philosophical musing that are keeping you disturbed, why don’t you stop reckoning them.”

I said, " Look man , what the harm thinking about beautiful varied things in life, whats wrong if you observe beautiful flowers and literally amuse your thoughts to touch all those brilliant colors. I mean is it really madness if you could almost communicate with a dried parched tree. If you could just stand in front of a tree watch its twisted branches and feel the warmth of nature and life and observe life’s cruelty carved out with so much grace. It’s a rush of different kind for people. They can lay still and find happiness in stillness. If that's not enough rush, just be a little naughty, look for a pretty little thing walking past by and pass on a sweet smile in appreciation to the mother nature’s gifts around, you know and be happy. If that’s what that suits you. And drop the “ try “ part, and be happy. ”

“Hey hold on ...man ...that's no trying to be happy!. That’s just clear lewd act of watching the pretty little thing pass by covered under the bouquet of flowery words. Why you keep bringing the chicks into play man. Can’t your world be beautiful without the mention of tickling romance in your world.”

“Hey if bro, look, that was on the lighter side, why you always the nagging and cribbing at every thought and idea man. Its like, why not take life a little lightly? The reality is that life without all those wonderful sentiments of being human including romance is no-life man. There’s nothing wrong in any thing and you can be happy assimilating all those sights of playful kid kicking a foot-ball and the victorious smile on the innocent face after that swing, a foot-ball match with roaring friends over pitchers of beer. And you keep observing this fine lady walking briskly, glued to the phone, talking smilingly to probably her boy friend or some one and then she glances up at make eye-contact and she knows you’ve been appreciating her and she smiles and you smile and life smiles in return. What’s the damn harm!. I mean appreciate the beauty of web of life, in whatever form. I mean be real but also don’t miss out on the beauty of abstractness. I mean do I need to implore upon you to realize the existence of colorful mystery and the vibrant nature. Take a break, look around, away from the chaotic world. Look at it, its such a pretense, such a submission to the demands of society and yielding to the hypocrisy around you. Spread yourself on a seat and hold on to the soft hands of life, with cool breeze and dream. Dream man. You don’t have to be on Mt.Everest to feel the warmth of nature in the coldness around you.

And we started this thing with…tell me since when did you start having such conservative moralistic thoughts man. You know, every one flaunts. You ain’t some sane man! “

“ Hey hey hold on the reigns man, you are sounding so pathetic. Such a starved hungry animal. Its you who needs help. I mean what do you mean by that “ beauty of web of life “ . I mean whats wrong with you?. You need a desperate break. Stop and think about your work, parents, get a girl and settle down. Do something good man, think about the unfortunate poor destitute souls, think of means of poverty elevation, ways and means to dilute the income inequities etc…And if you are so longing go and cheat on your wife, you psycho, but then don’t go fucking blabbering about your adventures around the town and preach the lessons on the exotic cravings on the caves and greatness of the book depicting the masked weirdness of human psyche…!”

"You think that’ll help any thing in this world man. Will it change or make any difference to you man. Don’t you think those who have engrossed their life in pursuit of these goals, ask them, they keep cribbing about it all the time.”

"Look all you are thinking about is going back with some brilliant idea and punching the keys how sorry man, you are lonely just chill, go out and have a bear, you know have some fun, party for a while.”

“I’ve partied enough bro !. And I haven't punched the keys in a long time man, I‘ve wasted away a lot of it .Why can't you give one decent piece of advice .I am ok. Really ..”

"By the way, I don't think you wasted it instead it seems you are wasting it. And you look wasted too.”

"Listen man. I am great,I am tired. Ok. Really, stop it, I think I am wise and I am old, that’s why I am doing this exercise. I like exploring. You get me wrong, I am not trying hard to look for reasons in this world man. But my amusement lies in the mundane thoughts in a mundane world man. You won’t get it"

"You are no wise man, you are just passing your time and by no chance you ain't old man. Don't fool me around, now something exciting and raunchy on streets and your adrenaline will rush like thunder, one moment away from the sight of the people and you'll fly .I know you .you fox! ".

I could not help but smile, "Yeah, may be. Well, I never denied that youth is wonderful. In-fact after all this brain-storming, I think I am the one who’s emphasizing on the infallibility of youth, where as I should be contradicting it and now man since you’ve ruined every single thought of mine, tell me you happy now , does it end or it goes on like this the whole night man? !"

He smiled at me and said , “ Does it ever ? “

“I am getting irritated man so just shut the fuck up man for a while. ok. I can’t believe sometimes, mostly. I bank upon you, and even you fail to make me laugh from the heart.“

“But you are getting serious, for god knows what reasons. Fine, tell me What do you like?

“I used to like a lot many things. I wanted to do a lot many things. But some how i don't get interested in any thing any more. So honestly, I don’t have an iota of idea of what I like. I am totally disinterested. “

“Not even girl s eh? don't lie.”

Momentarily i guess. Its a nice idea. But it doesn't last. Moreover its too demanding and I don't want to relent to such demands any more. I don't see any purpose in that, its too boring and too time consuming. Though ...its an adventure..but its all fake too. Most of all I haven’t made up my mind on that issue. “

Why you like this man?

Look man I am happy as long as I am alone. Once in a while someone drops in and asks how r u ? and we share a few thoughts that’s more than enough man, but I am fine like the way I am.

You know why?

No. How, I wish if they could see the wavelengths and patterns beyond the visible spectrum. Its not all that bad. I know how much life is beautiful and how much beauty could be on the platter. But I don’t want to eat it. Its an irony, like someone said, success is sweetest to those who never succeed and like wise Life’s value is know to those who don’t have a life…Ha ha ha . Fuck!.

Don't bore me man ! Hey, just tell me before I leave, What do you like doing at nights ?.

What ?

I mean after I go what do you like doing at nights ?

Well these days, I like, well, I like reading short stories and little fables.

Common man, what fucking fables man ? You don't think about sitting smilingly under the gaze of a Jet air hostess ? That’s your age man. Don’t lie, think about it man, that stern commanding gaze on that wonderful face, with ever so soft and polite smile..haiiii …”

Well sometimes, but I am not thinking on those lines. However, let me admit, it sounds nice. There s no harm in basking in feminine warmth.

There you go….! , but I am really concerned about your mental health, reading fables ...my a...

I am telling you man, if people could make their lives like so many beautiful fables and write it down, life would be so much wonderful radiance, vibrant, enriching, ful-filling and pure.

Yeah!. like your gut-wrenching story about loneliness. OH- ho..hey man ...make life like a beautiful fable ! ...don't you think that s a better commandment eh ?

Yeah, may be, ...but not simple enough..

Chuck it bro, tell me what do you want to do .....very desperately right now ?

I don’t know exactly …May be ...may be ...I want to write a short story and may be some day a book, or may be just not write a damn word and just read. Don’t know.!

He smirked at me and told me , .can you just tell me now ...what do you want in your life ? ..how you want your life to be ? Now, fast quickly, quick, quick, quick.

I want to ....be ...lets say ...... i want to write a beautiful fable or something like that’s.....make life a short simple warm fairy tale , a lovely story ..….a fable of sorts with all the emotions, insights, share experience, a suspense thriller, a pot-boiler sometimes.

He came with a characteristic broad smile of naughty brat, “ there you go man ....thats about it don't you think ...

We looked into each others eyes and smiled.

" Rascal ! "

Garfield in the Grassfields

From the corner of my eyes, I see him sitting in his cabin. He is reading economic times. There was a time, I would have admired this image. But then and there, I could not help but think, life has been sucked out of him. What a drag!. But then like sporadic self-contradictions, it flashed to me that may be life s not sucked out of him but instead he has sucked life out of all this office and is sucking mine and himself is having gala time of life. Most of us agree that may be the later is true.

But since as of now, in this blissful moment after attainment of self-confidence by true detachment, I believe that in all the right senses of humanity and compassion, he s sick and has no life. He is old, his face is worn out and I am sure he has his own share of hoards of trivial personal issues inkling at the back of his mind like that irritating humming of a mosquito on your ears. And he truly would go berserk any moment and slap his face. His life has slipped doing this one thing again and over again and achieved success by Darwin s “ Survival of the fittest “ and Adam Smiths “ Division of Labour”. Ladies and Gentle man he is top guy and has born the fruits of his labor and trust me he is as uncomfortable in his sweaty under wear as the office boy. You think it’s a pleasingly motivating sight. Please don’t fail me!.

The harsh reality is that most of us would be somewhere in that position, sick, tired worn out and may be yet every thing insecure. That’s the truth. The harsh truth which comes with age, look around and trust me all those faces will be yours in one situation or the other. And because we would never be happy with all the toys in the world, we would be chasing around and around this world, for us and for them and then fatal moment will come when you shall realize that it was just a silly game of merry go-around and you lost it all on the way. But for a while, in spite of lingering fears, I should admit I really don’t care for it. This is my time and I choose this moment. I need money and time and no work. By that I mean no work!. And its not that I am lazy or incompetent, I don’t give a damn! that’s all and that’s about it. Also, I have my reasons, which I think the world should know, coz I have been carrying tons of allegations for untrue and leading a lie.

Fact of the matter is I have not failed the world. The world has failed me. And brothers and sisters for all you know that is true in life is actually the biggest lie that god played on us. With the sad reality that in spite of every thing that you shall endure during this journey of nostalgic youth, exotic adulthood and nauseating old-age, you’ll never know the answers of why and when s ?. And if that was not enough he played another trick, no human was similar. We are all different. And we like fools competed with each other trying to be different and taking pride in it. The funny thing is if you are not able to differentiate yourself from the others you yourself never feel good about it from inside. See, you can’t beat the system too. Then your age would be gone and new ideas will germinate, a generation would come to thinking alike because no matter what all father s are mysteries, all sons are brats, all mothers are lovely and all daughters are wonderful. Identity?

What values does humanity thrive on?. Peace, liberty and freedom. It’s a mirage really. Since the dawn of human race, forget nature, we have been drinking blood out of each other in crusades over land and women. Who is Saddam, we even killed Jesus and documented it. And if there wasn’t enough filth in the wild carnal fantasies some one discovered Oedipus and made him famous for generations to corrupt. And before he was to die, Mr Freud came in and lifted the veil over the glory of human nature. People would say that’s an over emphasizing a subject and shrug it off. But how can you shy away from the numbers. Just have a glance of percentage distribution of subject content on the internet and the surveys on the great billion dollar pleasure. And trust me all governments grapple on how to cash upon this oppurunity in the most suttle ways. Should we talk of hypocrisy or should we be celebrate our great virtues.

Should I relent to a world that keeps itself confines of four walls and boundaries and runs on relations of conveniences?. Switch to CNN, watch the malnourished children in Africa, witness the apathy in the honor killing of females in middle east, the bombings. If nothing watch the farmers slogging for an earnest living in the scorching sun and commit suicide in there sick final lap and those who manage to garner the strength, the men, women and children watch them squatting on the road side. People would think that’s melodramatic, there are success stories. Look at the numbers, and if those are melodramatic, just glance into all those eyes and watch those weary faces in the bus stops and stations, longing and waiting for the struggle to end. How much joy I see around me, Ah! full-filling, awesome. Its so much pain, trauma and loneliness that you would have no choice but to turn a blind eye and set focus on your goals and achievements and still be sane and sleep at comfortably at night. Isn’t that funny and ironical, this sheer helplessness.

Then there are others who would site examples of good work been done around. It’s a joke really. The worlds predicted to end in half a century and the pace of good and developmental work for the welfare of humanity is full swing across the globe, have a look at middle-east, Africa and in the back yard slum in Mumbai. You think these are flourishing?. They have lived and will go and what would they have, nothing. Sheer waste and never even have the time to think about their lives. You were fortunate buddy that s all. That’s the greatness of our collective human civilization.

If, I were to give you the simple mantra to success to become the guy in the cabin or the lady in the corolla , learn the art to adapt. Adapt to situations. Make change your lifes constant, and keep manipulating or adjusting to situations. Always be on your toes. Keep dancing to those faites thumping tune and hopping from one square to another. Like fucking jokers. In a way the if you look closely you could correlate the art to adapt and survival of the fittest. Thanks in advance.

As for me, I say a big NO to this stupidity. I choose to be extinct and vanish. I won’t adapt to destiny s pressures instead I will change this stupid battleground. I choose to quit, when destiny wants to play, I’ll play when fate wants to quit. I have got this plague and I’ll spread this plague. And now I need what I seek, I seek soliders to wage this war of stupidity. Now I know the power of masses. They can turn all the lies seemingly the most incredible truth of real world. So here I’ll turn the tables. I will have the army of good for nothing flower children.

And then we need a leader for this army. No. I don’t want to lead any one. I want to be an observer and refrain from actions of any kind. I just want to lay back on the podium sip my bear, biting popcorns surrounded by ignorance which gets used throughout its life, stands and applauds this game between the good, the bad and the ugly.

I just want soothe my heart watch ignorance, god and devil do the belle dance, the sweet triple tango of its unique sort. Just chill and lie on the couch.

Ah! You know how much better it feels to lay yourself on the couch shake your head up and down, close your eyes. Stop looking for meanings in a meaningless world. Or is it meaningless mean world ? Chuck it.

I think, no DJ in world comes close to Mick Jagger. These guys made sense.

Junk Dilemma BC # 101

Did it had to occur to you? Did it ? No. But yet you walked on the road. Walked without thinking. Did you not think about it actually? . All the time , all the while you know where this was going. Did you try to stop it ? . No dear friend no. And that’s where you failed. Failed so miserably. In denying. Denying the temptations. Was it really necessary to fell on to your knees and fall for it ll. Not at all. You fooled every one with your ideals of curiosity and inquisitiveness. Why you fooled every one and now you hang your head in shame. In shame for your self. Stand on the window and gaze at the open sky. Look at the stars and feel nothing. Feel the wind and feel nothing. Just a soul trapped inside the body, commanded and served to the naked dance tunes of your dirty mind.

What happened to your eyes. Could you not see it. If you could not were your actually arrogant. But hey what difference could you have made it any ways. It just came on the way and you stopped. Forgot your destiny. Forgot those promises. Forgot all those eyes and aspirations that were put up on you. And chose to differ. And by the time you woke up! It was all gone. Every thing. Your grace. Your charm. Your healty life. It was turned into filth and dirt with only substances and sensuality remaining to amuse you.

What a shame isn’t it brother. What a shame. Come to accept of your real face and your soul cries of disgust. But what if the inside hates the world and most of hates every thing that you are. Want to apologize. Ha! But to whom? Are they worth? No they are not. But still you would like to apologize. The question is to whom? Whom do you chose to confess. Just when you were to unburden your self, life laughed and told you, to take a walk. You were not required. Such a pity. World will go on with out you. And long after you have gone.

For A while, for a while I thought music was dead. It was for me. Music was dead. I used to be so scared, even the thought of it. Would it never cherish me any more. I could not believe it, I have been so away from music, especially the kind, that kind for such a long while. It was just during my nocturnal visits to some of the most fabulous places in this city that, it used to come and kiss me right on the cheeks. And I for a while thought, I knew whom to apologize.


And sometimes I see him stand with hands hanging on the railings on the window and look at the dark cloudy sky and the gaze remains confused sight of gentle white radiance of moonlight surrounding the shadow of sun veiling the moon. The burning sun as shadow over reflection of its own light. Life’s nothing but fucking foreplay of light and shadow.


Hey now, all you sinners

Put your lights on, put your lights on

Hey now, all you lovers

Put your lights on, put your lights on

Hey now, all you killers Put your lights on, put your lights on

Hey now, all you children Leave your lights on, you better leave your lights on

Cause there’s a monster living under my bed

Whispering in my ear

There's an angel, with a hand on my head

She say I’ve got nothing to fear

There’s a darkness deep in my soul

I still got a purpose to serve

So let your light shine, into my hole

God, don’t let me lose my nerve

Lose my nerve

Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now

Wo oh hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now....

We all shine like stars

We all shine like stars

Then we fade away

The Tranquil Nursery

" I like lilies " she said.

The gardener was a little disturbed, but he managed to contain himself and ask " That’s what you've been looking for?".

With her calm gaze fixed on the expanse of flowers and shrubs, peacefully searching, she said. " Yes" and then added with child like innocence" You've have a nice nursery. Its a bit different than the others in the town. A little sober. A little somber. And still holding." She paused, took breath, exhaled and said, " a sinless joy."
She smiled gently and veiled her thoughts, pressing her lips together then with clear firm tone "Its nice."

They paused for a while looking at each other from some distance till the gardner broke the silence with his modest voice "I don't think its great enough. Its just something little I tried to do in leisure time and later let it take its own form." and smilingly " Its a pleasure that some one sees so much in my garden"

For the first time, she looked away from the flowers and slowly turned her head, with a soft smile on her face, asked " Does that tells a little of you which is not known?".

The Gardner laughed a little, " No. No. Its not my secret garden. Nothing like that, its just , I guess, something, as you've put it appropriately, nice and neat"

He watched her kneel, bend over the Jasmine shrubs then gently talking a petal between her fingers feeling the smooth texture of it. " It s ok, you don't have to feel shy about it" and giggling she said, " You can have the luxury of unloading the burden of being a Man for awhile." and soon retreated her mind to the flowers with gentle gaze the one reflecting the calmness of blue lake, appreciating the beauty around and yet remaining ever so contently detached from all of it.

He stood waiting for her to complete her thoughts and wondered, "why she had come to his nursery this fine Sunday morning?" The sun was shining bright. Most of the town was celebrating the spring, some on hill top where the town people had arranged a trip, the boys he knew had gone to swim in river and bask in the glory of sun. And he wondered," why would she come to this nursery after all these years?". He had seen the girl in the town barely knowing her even the name. He had seen her since a child. He remembered, how he used to watch her go to school like a silly sweet heart, go to college, later she had gone for further studies to the town. When she had come back after accomplishing her studies in science, he had heard she was married fine scholar at the city university department. In later years he saw her delivering lessons in literature at community school. They had barely spoken to each other and their interaction was limited to a formal nod and courteous greetings at the local church.

He gazed her graceful figure clad in bright while, kneel over the Jasmine flowers, bend over, holding the flower s between her tender long fingers " Jasmines.... it has that unique gentle fragrance." She took a moment as if carefully choosing her words, she said, " I come to know a little of you from the friends in town. They talk of you. People always do. They tell me you are nice gentleman but a little reserved though. And I must say, they find you quite amusing too. But I guess, all of them have resigned you to your own self. I have watched you tending the flowers in the gardens time to time. You seem to do your job with considerable alacrity. But my experience tells that a silent discipline is often to contain the turmoil inside.

During the whole time, she was talking to as if some known to her and not a stranger, lost in her calm thoughts and seeking the depth of the unknown. The Gardner was watching with amusement, confused as to which direction the conversation was taking, " I am sorry, correct me if I am offending you, but I have never delved to those depths of my routine. What is that is bothering you lady?".

" Oh, you misunderstand me. May be I was too candid for first meeting!. It was just an opinion I had formed over these years, and since I felt like expressing, I have done so. The intention was not to dwell on your personal lifestyle." and with friendly sweetness she said, " But they say, you have kept this nursery good. Since I have never being here, I thought may be today I should explore this one too. Well, you did not tell me, do you have lilies?"

"Why, I was thinking you were liking Jasmines. "

"Oh, I do, but today I need Lilies."

He was a little perturbed, but he concealed his thoughts and said, " Well, in that case, I think this garden of mine shall be of little value to you. I do not have lilies in this nursery. "

She smilingly gazed into his eyes with the absolute mastery of disguise, " Hmmm...in that case yes, it would indeed be a disappointment for me today, but, I am sure someday you shall plant lilies, no matter what your fears." and turned to the Roses.

In a tickling manner he said, "You know, I am of the opinion that. It would take more than a life time to know a person"

Without giving a glance, she retorted back , " You never know. You never know and yet, yet you may know everything. Sometimes its all so amazingly absurd."

Suddenly the gardener laughed, " I don't think I would enjoy let an interesting customer not enjoy her trip to my nursery. Would you like to have a cup of tea here?"

"That is surely welcome", she said, with a dignity that comes to those who take the path less treaded.

They took their cups and strolled in the garden, he telling her about all the flowers he had sown, about the varieties, the seasons and went on with an enthusiasm of a scholar who had spent considerable time pursuing his interested, attending to the details of life sowed, watered and observed it take form and structure in front of keen eyes. He asked her interests, he asked her about Lilies, she told him, " lilies you know..." and with youthfully enthusiasm they went on discussing flowers, feelings and life. Soon time went under horizon, till their shadows gave in to the darkness.

Morning light poured as if in tune with the towns pace of grace and calmness. He could hear the church bell and he started waking up to a illusion of a new dawn. He went about doing his morning chores and came out neat and casually dressed out into the nursery and gazed around, many colorful birds were chirping on the trees and there were honey-bees on the flowers. Life has bloomed to its full glory, the gardener thought and smiled to himself. His attention went to the young couple opening the nursery gates.

Taking a casual walk, he went to them and greeted them inside. They both walked behind him shying and trying to avoid get his attention. He turned around and asked in a humble soft mature tone, " Tell me, how can I help you. "

Boys face reflected affection, love and care for the feelings for the girl, he spoke taking initiative of a protective friend " She has interests in gardening. And she was planning to have a lily plantation. So, we were wondering, could you help her getting one. Since there are not many beautiful nurseries left in the town like this one"

Reflecting back to the memories, the past, so many friends and so much love, he uttered, " Yes, I guess, this nursery, has weathered the change of seasons and turned a little more beautiful" and rubbed his palms over his wrinkled eyes.

The gardener was lost in the sweetness of boys innocent and ignorant words of love, stood smilingly at them, as if teasing them of the hesitating manners and tried to catch their eyes. He took a moment, smiled at them back and said, " Well, I feel little bad to disappoint both of you, but I would not have lily plantation for you. Please do not mind. I have many other varieties of flowers, few of them as exotic as Lily , you can have a look around, see if something else pleases you."

The couple gazed into the gardeners deep old eyes, " Sure we will."

"Then in that case, I shall brew some hot tea for both you wonderful people." and he walked towards his cottage. From the corner of his eyes, he glanced the boy tickling the girl and both of laughingly taking walk in the nursery.

The couple playfully giggling started briskly walking, hand in hand, around the nursery. When they came to the back yard, they were amazed. Surrounded by the shadow of trees, there were lilies arranged in the form of a thick circle. Neatly trimmed slanting from high to low, making a sort of little hill. The ones on the inner periphery of the circles were visibly older than the ones on the inside. And there was this gentle fragrance of moistened soil watered in early in the morning.

From behind they heard the gardener, “ Please do not pluck the flowers from those.”

They turned back, looked in to his deep dry eyes, noticing the dark circles that had formed under it. But it was warmth and calmness of his wrinkled face that touched them.

Gently he spoke, “ Please, do not misunderstand me, my intentions were not to be dishonest, but I could not have helped myself, I have tried to keep this small part of nursery to myself.” He coughed and like wandering through the past, he spoke, “ It all stopped making sense to me and I turned agnostic”

Recollecting all those sweet memories he thought to himself, “ How sometimes destiny turns lifes ignorance to a burden of crimes. “

“Every ones got a past dear friends”, he spoke smilingly with tranquility in his voice to soothe the young couple. “Under those lilies lies my lost pretty child." He took a moment to absorb the gravity of his words and the disbelief , “Lillies, a friend told me, symbolizes that the soul of the departed has received restored innocence after death."

Heaving a sigh of relief he said placidly, “ It’s a sunny day, lets go to the front into the nursery, the tea is ready to refresh you.”

The couple sensing his reserved past, followed him as he walked in front of them.

As they strolled behind his graceful wise figure, the couple glanced behind into the middle of the lilies, and noticed the neatly carved statue of Mother Mary with folded, gentle arms, longing to see into the closed eyes of what seemed like dead Jesus.

BORING BRAIN

Long time since I reflected back. But I don't want to any more. Never knew things would come to this. So much fun at such an age. How could one come to the terms like this?. Some times you very well know the path to be treaded, but alas, you stand helpless and that tear treads ever so gently over your dried skin. Without even giving a least of the hints life takes such a smooth turn to an adventure, that fills your heart with love and then gently to hate finally taking every thing away settling every moment in dust. Yet, we would take that course. If there is any thing in this world that could make it beautiful is compassion and as you walk down the road soon you'll know there are not enough heed an ear to your tale and empathize with your parched lips. That's the city life. Young and lonely.

Sometimes it comes all striking right through the middle of the heart. A flash of the scribbling with black charcoal on the wall rips across the darkness. The echo of laughter within the four confines of the wall comes shattering the ear drums.The warmth of a shake-hand and the swinging palms bidding good-bye. Eyelids press against each other either confused to forget or to recollect, to run towards or farther from the haunting truth and beautiful mirage. A shadow standing in dark corridors of confused youth seeking bliss in calm of starry night, sweetness in the sound of burning paper.

Once I stopped a walking man passing across and patted his back, today I see a dead cow lying in front of me.

Have you ever planted a tree. I think one should try his/her hands on that silliness s. And then the plant grows, blooms and blushes becomes green, but bears no fruits and no flowers. Would you for-sake it? Why do you forsake it ? Why do you choose to love?

And I saw a river tumble across the stones, loosing its stream and finding it s way back again to join the final rush. But the river after all shall finally loose itself in the vastness of ocean and be just water. So futile is the existence, but the rush I guess is worth it. It's the journey that matters, better than be a lake calm placid and at the end site saddened by ugly algae and eventually vaporised with no history.

When did all the sun-flowers die?. Don't you get distasteful of death. You were the golden boy. Now even punching the keys is a sorry pain.