An amALGAm Of thEm aLL

my mind wanders off sometimes..
into the clear black starry sky..
and that is when i tend to think..
think, like the topmost layer..
of icy cool water on a teaspoon's brink..

drink with dreams,
wink at illusions,
think up reality,
blink at transition..

the stars,the lovely shimmering white stars..
they blink at me in morse code..
i always wonder what they try to say..
mysteries, fantasies,legends or a simple 'hey'?..

the pipers up there..
whether you like it or not..
sway to his symphonies we do..
whether u realize it or not..

the black blanket of the sky engulfs everything..
i like to watch and then breathe it..
the sleep , the dreams , the illusions , the reality..
and then an amalgam of them all..

IgnOraNce Is BLiss...

The ruby,waxy smoothness of a rose's petals is what u see..
The hazy illusions of shimmering crystals is what u feel..
If the aroma of freshly baked fluffy cup cakes-ur daily meal..
Crusty buttered sunrises..and the mirages of sunsets make u kneel..

When the majestic whines of gurgling purple wine..
Relaxes ur tongue like a snake's hiss..
You know ur in a fuzzy dream..
Where reality is ignorance and ignorance is bliss..


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pAinteR In thE SkieS

...By this time it was 3'o' clock and we went to the Mussorie Rink society , a local skating rink.It seemed like a place that a lot of classic touch to it, complete with all the auburn aura and wooden charms that engulfed it, and would have housed many a great shows in its day but at present , had nothing more to offer other than broken floors , abandoned stages and careless gutka-chewing guards.

We payed 80 bucks each for the skating shoes and out of the seven of us only Dhairya and Aman knew their way around on wheels. The rest of us , well lets just say that our buttocks met the floor more often than our 'skating' feet.
Still it was a lot of fun with everyone running around, scrambling, swooping, scratching and falling down in that ancient abandoned rink.

After coming out of this place though, is when we realized what Mussorie was really all about. In the distance we saw black clouds encircling the hills and felt a cold breeze begin to flow. Slowly, it started drizzling and oh man , were we in store for something amazing...

Skipping potholes, dodging raindrops and inhaling the fresh minty breeze, we advanced through the market to come out into the open. At that moment i realized what God was all about-

It was like coming out of a dark stuffy tunnel on a train to embrace the freshness of the dew-soaken rail track amidst the many trees and the gorgeous sun. Right in front of us, we could see a clear view of the drenched valley and i guess whatever words i may use to describe that majestic scene, would just be a whisper to the epic song that it was -

Surrounded by hills , Dehradun lay quite by itself on the side of a neatly trimmed, terrace farmed hill. Half the sky was covered with mean, gray watery clouds that came pattering down on whatever lay below it, while the other half lay extremely quiet, humble almost as if terrified by the clouds' advent.

The little cute sun seemed to be buttering the crusty hills with its moist golden rays. Little cars went trudging by grumpily along the winding hilly roads, puffing slowly. And all around , just a little below , a faint layer of mist, fused with the air, covered the whole expanse.

It was an amalgam of ecstasy and peace unlike any we had ever experienced before.
Such experiences make you feel small , yet somehow they don't belittle you , they just make you think...

ThE SeXy itCh

What is the one thing that teenagers , people in their prime and senior citizens all worship alike? No I'm not talking about cricket. Its obviously SEX.wherever you might go, from the densest metropolitan jungles to the remotest ill equipped villages , through the centuries , we have witnessed the growth of a uni-directional obsession with sex.

Be it movies , music , photography , crime , advertising , gossip columns or ancient literature and art, a large percentage of everything seems to be pre-dominated by the raw animalistic practice of intermingling genitalia (perhaps in more sophisticated forms).

Don't you wonder why? Isn't sex just another biological process like respiration or digestion.Then whats all the fuss about?
According to Dr. Michael Roizen , the real sex organ is actually "the insula" a part of the left brain which is responsible for hormonal stimulation due to visual or physical aides which leads to sexual cravings.

However i feel it is simply deprivation at a very advanced level.Imagine you have an irritating itch behind your left ear and all you want to do is to reach for it with your hands and scratch it out of your system. But the only problem is that you cant, as itching is considered to be a taboo in this imaginative society of ours. There are certain places , 'itch-brothels' if you may where your needs of scratching will be satisfied for a fee but it is illegal and immoral to do so. Apart from this there are extracts about itching in books and depictions of people scratching each other crazy in art and literature all around.What's more , if you turn on your charm and start dating someone , then maybe at the end of a charade of dates , you might get lucky and get a temporary riddance of your itch.

Imagine being sentenced to ten years in jail if you are unable to control this craving of yours and scratch your ear behind someone else's without their consent, hence committing an 'itch-rape', if you may.

Wouldn't that cultivate a whole culture of itch-centric societal beings?As absurd as it may sound, It definitely would. many more such societies can be thought of based on thirst , hunger or any other physical deprivation.
coming out of this imaginative society we need to understand that we humans at the core-level basically crave for whatever's unavailable be it sex or scratching. this societal deprivation coupled with the crazy inflow of hormones keeps our minds directed towards sex for most part of the day.
Perhaps the realization that sexual intercourse is just another thing that we do might help us concentrate our forces towards more productive activities....

ThE NighT i FleW

(continued from - the day i flew (see below) )

If the morning flight enthralled me, the night one left me speechless.

It was nothing like the creature that had taken me to Pune, a day before. It seemed more mechanical, more digitalized, more human.

With perfect harmony between itself and the runaway, it slid into motion smoothly, and all of a sudden like a bullet launched itself into the air.

From a Godly height, the night sky makes one realize that we humans are not really as disastrous as we are made out to be. Down below, in perfect symmetry, millions and millions of shiny little pinpricks watched us fly, shimmering in synchronization all the while.

There were clear cut divisions between the vacuum-black and the futuristic light zones, as if an architect had just designed the view for my eyes.

There was no sense of the raw, animalistic feeling attached to the flight which had been so prominent during the day. On the contrary, the night was completely governed by a pride at being human.

The lights of the plane were switched off, as we left the city, making us realize how black, black really could be. Completely plunged into darkness, with only the engine's humming to guide us, I felt numb.

Looking out of the window i saw nothing but a single star, probably guiding us.

Rising a little further up, the sky seemed like a sandwich made of 2 huge slices of the blackest bread. Gobbled up between these slices was a thin layer of faintly visible cheese and salami, in the form of a line of clouds.

A silky voice then rang out from the microphone above my head, announcing the arrival of a tasty array of snacks. The night sky and the plane, all suddenly seemed frivolous and all i could think of was the hot chicken tikkas, the shammi kababs, the aloooo tikiiiiess and the hot coffeeee that i would soon be served....
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Come the fuck on! hurry up!
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Goddamnit, ten minutes have passed and the air hostess is still nowhere near my aisle! I'm gonnaa need some muthrfkin food quick or SOMEBODY'S GONNA GET HURT REAL BAD!

All right fine, that was stolen from Russell Peters, but u cant really expect a hungry and irritated writer to focus on originality!
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AARGHHH! BLASPHEMY!
MURDER!
FRAUD@!

I got stupid cold n dry paneer paranthas and even drier chicken sandwiches for a freaking 300 bucks! Fuck u INdiGo airlines!
what all i couldve had with 300 back on land!

A KFC 12 peice bucket with coke...
or a full days meal at Mc. D's..
or perhaps, a naiice double cheese burst cheese margehrita at dominoes...

I am Fucked up beyond all repair.

Cannot ..
Continue..
writing..

Need ..
to..
regain..
my..
honor..

must..
kill..
someone..

RaTs

It is simple..

Quite simple as that..

There’s no rainbow..

With tri-colored hats..



When goons with gusto..

Goof up with guns..

Who’s to blame?..

Just us multi-colored rats....

ThE maN Who ChangeD ChangE

he walked the earth,
he freed the moon,
he shaped himself his shadooooow....
he mourned change-it caused him pain,
yet he sends his 'suns' to gallows..


white peace he thot,
he did create,
till bouncing came his felloooows...
the starry knights, with dynamites,
they killed, they grilled the(reptile)dinooooos..


and cried and wept,
and moaned he did,
as black-ash filled his seasonnnns..
copper crusts and billowy dusts,
his tears filled the oceannnns..


bt stopped or dropped,
never did he,
as the road turned thornnnnyy,
for the sage-prophessed a.new.age.
whence all shall be hornnnnyyy...


a new age dawned,
with his new age spawn,
with stones n' sticks n' boooobiess..
with buildings duplex and raunchy sex,
who needs-stupid-reptile looooniess..


if change is changed,
what is change?
if change happens daillyyyyy..?
he changed change, he chained change,
realized, it happens constanttllyyyy...