ख्याल

ख्यालों को शब्द देना कठिन है। अगर हम सारे ख्यालों को सही शब्द दे पाते तो ज़िन्दगी कुछ और ही होती। दर्द में जीने वाले अजीब ही होते हैं। या तो ग़ालिब की तरह शायरी ग़म गलत करो, या फिर प्रेमचंद की तरह गरीबी में मरो।

सच्चाई से जियो तो मज़े में नहीं रहोगे, मज़े में रहोगे तो मदर इंडिया का लाला बनना पड़ेगा। मैं उन दिनों का इंतज़ार कर रहा हूँ जब इंसान और मशीन का अंतर खत्म ही जाएगा। मुझे लगता है इंसानियत तब ज़्यादा होगी। इंसानों की ख़ास बात ये है की जानवर होते हुए भी वो कभी ये मानने के लिए तैयार नहीं होंगे की वो जानवर हैं।

विज्ञान मुझे चैन देता है। मैं प्रेमचंद की तरह गरीबी में नहीं मरना चाहता और ना ही ग़ालिब की तरह ग़म में। विज्ञान में मौत कोई बड़ी बात नहीं है और हर चीज़ की तरह ये भी बस एक परिभाषा है। शायर दिल दिल करते रह जायेंगे और दिल धमनियों में खून पहुंचाता रहेगा। विज्ञान का अंत कहीं नहीं है, और हर चीज़ की तरह ये भी ज़िंदा रहने का बहाना है। जानवरों में ख़ास बात यही है, की उन्हें ज़िंदा रहने के लिए बहाने नहीं चाहिए होते। इंसान को जानने की खुजली है, और जानना ज़रूरी है। शब्द जानने के लिए ज़रूरी है, और नए ख्यालों के लिए भी।

Great toe is great again

Here is how taking good care of wounds and taking proper medicines helps. A friend's girlfriend called with a suppurating great toe, which was leading to oedema of the whole foot. The doctor she was going to was applying bandage everytime and each time the bandage was removed the condition used to get worse. 

Here is where calendula helps. Calendula is a great remedy. Just a few days with hygiene and a lot of calendula, and she is ready to excite a foot fetish.

Monochromatic lust

I do

sept 16, 2015

Free flow of starry stream In a moonlit night breeze The fragrance of jasmine Intermingled with that of fresh roses Travels to distant snowy peaks Where silence is musical And night is poetic Where i am not a man And you are not a woman A place where we are unified In presence of nature Without saying ‘I do’.

soul cry

sept 12, 2015

Dry parched skin Underneath hides your soul You look into the mirror And find someone laughing at you Someone just like you Is laughing at self Which is a good exercise You want to get a shotgun And cartridges And wreck havoc Like Punisher does But you have principles of Captain America Murphy’s law will make things worse And you will be busy in repairs Shakespeare will writhe in his grave Or may be she was a woman Its raining and its beautiful But it’s raining acid You can run but can’t hide Except inside your own skin.

Pathetic

August 01, 2015

You want me in your life still,
When you have chosen someone else;
You want him for survival, and comfort,
And you want me for entertainment and wisdom;
You say i rescued you,
Brought you back;
I am that lifeboat that saved you;
That’s why you jumped back on a cruise on the first given chance;
You say i made you,
But you too have made me;
Pathetic.

warrior and the divine mother of wrath

august 09, 2015

There are words
Which i may not speak
But they keep bouncing in the deep vaults of my subconscious
I may call on to the goddess kali
The goddess of wrath
And ask her to eliminate my darkness
I may give myself up to her
In her warm motherly embrace
Being fed by her breasts
The wisdom i never had
The dark vaults may open
And the lighthouse of wisdom may show me the light
I am in the ocean of love of the mother
Freud will say it is oedepus
But it is love
O mother i bow down to thee
I sacrifice myself in thy honor
Accept your warrior child
And keep him under your divine care
O destructor of darkness
Save me from ignorance
And accept my wretched soul as a sacrifice.

Cancer causes smoking

I look at my fingers
And thank my cigarettes
It’s a condition called clubbing

I take deep breaths
Instead of shallow ones
Especially when i smoke

The tobacco stains
On my fingers
Are fossils

They are remnants
Of pain and those dark nights
When i used to drown in a sea of smoke

I smoke my worries away
Sitting in the balcony
Under the stars

I fill my lungs with tar
And invite cancer
Ironically my sun-sign

God vs mortal

July 26, 2015

The gods unite
Against a mortal
And make him
The second Sisyphus.

But he was the second Achilles
With traits of Hercules,
He was shot in the heels
And survived half-dead.

He challanged the gods
And made them realize
It’s not difficult to kill a mortal
But it is impossible to kill his soul.

planet feminista

Rocket being propelled by vanilla milkshakes
To a world where drunk girls in short skirts are puking
Their liver is detoxifying their parties
And the uterus is preparing for turning them into caring mothers
These girls in high heels
Walk their way up to the top
And settle down once they find their camp
Some get lost in the wild
And others perish in the avalanche of circumstances
These drunk girls are daughters, and sisters
They will be mothers, and mothers are mostly never bad
But right now they are bitches
In the season of their heat

science and art of vampire genesis

Science is so blunt
And art is so sentimental
Love is a sentiment in the hypothetical heart
And chemistry in the brain
Tears are sodium chloride and water
Irrigating the wounds of our hypothetical heart
We can drain our wounds and prevent necrosis
Or we can be toxic inside and rot
Sometimes we need someone who can aspirate the poison
And spit it in the waste bin
The more toxic we are, the more desperate we get
In the end when we die, the search stops
And vampires are left
With sides to choose
Of Darkness and light
To be a vampire of light
Is a foolish sacrifice
But vampires are only in literature
Which is art, and sentimental
Because we are afraid to be blunt.

icarus the swan

Black swan
I will paint you
With the colours of rainbow
And then I will send you to fetch stars
Sun is a star
And the reason for your colours
It will burn your feather and char your body
Turning you to ash
And then will you realize
You were not a swan
But a phoenix in disguise
A phoenix playing the role of Icarus the swan

I remember when I held you
At the corner of the bed,
When you were tipsy and your eyes were glowing;
You were a tigress and I was your lamb
Lifting you up in my arms;
I was crazy in love and you knew you owned me;
I was your slave,
And it was a wild night,
The last night,
With the last woman that owned me.

last wild love

I remember when I held you
At the corner of the bed,
When you were tipsy and your eyes were glowing;
You were a tigress and I was your lamb
Lifting you up in my arms;
I was crazy in love and you knew you owned me;
I was your slave,
And it was a wild night,
The last night,
With the last woman that owned me.

Incurable

July 19, 2015
Diseased soul treating sick individuals,
Hospital rounds are not so merry always,
Emergency in my heart, reflecting in my work,
Trying to ease my pain by trying to heal others,
No painkiller can ease my pain,
No bandage can stop haemorrhage of my heart,
Late night shifts,
Late night calls
And hurried bike rides to the hospital;
Keeping myself busy,
And trying to find a cure for this incurable soul.

fantasy of perfection

July 15 2015

A rose blooms
When it’s winter,
Dew drops on its petals;
Fire in the fireplace
Sends love signals to the chimney,
Where it writes love letters to the sky;
You rain over me
Like rosewater pouring in a thunderstorm,
Seeping into the pores of my skin;
I’ll give you my soul
To fulfil my void,
I’ll be the vacuum and you, my substance.

white can be black

Speed-breakers sometimes do what they’re not supposed to,
They break bones;
Surgeons sometimes takes lives by mistake;
Whores sometimes make love with real affection,
And many oh-so-good women marry just for money;
Water takes life when in lungs
And air causes discomfort when in stomach;
Things keep happening, odd yet joyful, sometimes bizarre,
Sometimes unbearable and disturbing;
Right things can go wrong,
And in a cascade of events,
Beautiful ladies may turn into whining bitches,
Their men resorting to become stray dogs;
A little girl laughing and jumping on the terrace
May hopscotch into the oblivion.

cafe in the shopping mall

A lovely evening
In the cafe of the shopping mall
Laughing and sipping coffee;
Sophisticated words
And deep conversations,
People humming
And insects being fried by the bug zapper;
She looks me into my eyes,
I feel like a fly;
I am the insect,
That slowly walks into her Venus flytrap,
Being sucked of my juices slowly
And with that my soul;
The cafe in the shopping mall,
Is a garden
Of Venus flytraps,
And the coffee is a fertilizer.

rusty bridges

Old rusty bridges
Tell stories of steam engines;
There was once a time
When the cars were carriages,
The rich were aristocratic,
And for the poor there were atrocities;
But we would skip that part,
And take only the positive;
There would be gentlemen in suits
And ladies in sarees,
Porters in red uniforms on the railway station,
And station master with his flag and lantern,
There would be steam engines puffing their way
Onto the rusty bridges,
Into a past happy and imaginary.

hill abode

july 7, 2015
Clouds floating slowly
In the moonlit sky,
Trees glow like neon
And snow is like radium,
The chilly wind is piercing the bones,
The warmth of fire reminds of home,
Away from the city here I rode,
Away from the home to my hill abode.

Hope

Empty eyes eager for hope
Just a glimmer would be fine,
A little gleam of hope
In eternity of despair is divine;
Time is a traveller
And we are tagging along,
Infinite dimensions but one
In infinite directions;
Humanity is tiny
And dying,
Hope,
is its last cigarette.

relentlessly grounded

relentless

hope of survival

as the planets revolve

around a self-destructing star

it’s just the way everything functions

the ones that give light are consumed by their own darkness

coming down the spiral of endless thought

each level down seems more bland

once you see the sky

it’s hard to be

grounded.

do not love me

June 14, 2015

do not love me

i am a vagabond

i am a drifter, a hermit, a recluse,

i am a sorcerer who creates ideas from my loneliness,

i am a warmonger of thoughts,

and a renegade with a vendetta

against every human against humanity,

and that would be all of us,

including me,

including you,

do not love me,

for this place is not for us.

lie

discovered her love is a lie,

and mine too,

a negative and a negative make a positive,

does a lie and a lie make a truth?

soul fatigue

soul fatigue,

inner turmoil and perpetual madness

deliver eulogy of emotions,

dazed by selfishness

succumbing to injuries of heart

and paying for obsequiousness,

madness becomes the savior

and the celibate dance.

broken heroes

june 12, 2015

disfigured deities cry for help

world is a cesspool

a whirlpool of mockery

and it’s raining scoundrels

heroes are dead

and their graves have been cemented

the broken ones remain

as a faint glimmer of hope

they contain their darkness

in hidden corners of their heart

their soul burns into

illuminating wisdom

they turn into heroes, but not quite

the showdown

June 12, 2015

smell of the yellow soil, and memories crawl back,

mostly haunting, painful,

languid afternoons full of nothingness,

a dog lapping water from the drain in the hot sun,

destiny can sometimes be evil,

but it’s all the same,

evil is actually good,

good is actually evil,

i want to believe in something,

i need to believe in something,

it can’t happen anymore,

my tryst with destiny is now a full blown fight,

and i am getting ready for the showdown

night rider

on the empty city streets

late at night

i ride my old blue and white motorbike,

the engine makes much noise

and the policemen in the jeep stare

but i just feel the wind 

and I don’t care,

i smoke my cigarette,

and leave a trail of smoke

just like my bike,

on the empty city streets

late at night

guitar zero

i play my tunes,

as you watch me with that smile on your face,

you know i am the master of the string theory,

and i am play just the right notes,

the chords between our hearts

are not meant to be broken, ever;

you are the air

that resonates the void of my empty soul,

you are the electricity

that makes me functional,

you are my harmony,

and I’m your guitar zero.

tropical angel

tropical breeze

and her scented hair flowing,

i can feel the evening in my goosebumps,

the sun setting in the color of crimson,

she walks in the sand

as the night arrives,

in the full moon night

the sea welcomes her

with the sound of its waves,

the droplets of water

on her velvety skin

trickle down like beads of pearls

and i watch her playing in the water,

with a fluttering heart and longing eyes.

hellfire of love

09 june 15

beautiful chariots rise up the sky

the gods are ascending to the heavens

the god of love, the kamadeva,

with his flowery bow and arrow

shoots a mere  mortal

to his impending doom

while on his way to the heavens

the god awards the man

hellfire of love