I live in the house of silence,
a three-storeyed tomb where the dead walk
pretending to be alive.
Going about the meaningless business of their lives,
faces painted in bright vibrant colours
to hide the white pale face of death.
Covering their rotting skin with levis and Armanis.
Underneath fine french perfumes,
sleeps the odour of decay.
And so I walk upto them
and slit their throats,
one by one,leaving them
drowning in their stinking black blood.
Choking, the bodies thrash and struggle,
but only for a while.
Nails going white, clawing at the floor tiles
dig into the edges, get stuck
and break.
Opening fresh wounds for the blood to rush out of,
like convicts from a prison break.
Finally I slit my throat
and lie in a tub,
blood mixing with water,
runs down the drain.
A lone bubble swims to the surface,
and pops.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Monday, March 09, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
the Marble the Star the Tear
I search for you in the clouds
I search for you under moonrocks and behind solar flashes,
I write your name in the scattered pollen of spring
I feel your cold touch in the snow flakes of winter.
I sleep.
And the moon plays marbles with the stars,
one slips off the firmament,
and lands on a baby's cheek.
It shines and glistens,
but just for a moment and is then lost
in the dust,
It's with you now
The marble the star the tear,
it's light will lead me to you,
Just follow the light.
The Sun sits beside you
bathing you in it's white absolute light,
nibbling at your breast
it's the infant Sun.
And the world is dark in contrast,
for you are it's eclipse.
I search for you under moonrocks and behind solar flashes,
I write your name in the scattered pollen of spring
I feel your cold touch in the snow flakes of winter.
I sleep.
And the moon plays marbles with the stars,
one slips off the firmament,
and lands on a baby's cheek.
It shines and glistens,
but just for a moment and is then lost
in the dust,
It's with you now
The marble the star the tear,
it's light will lead me to you,
Just follow the light.
The Sun sits beside you
bathing you in it's white absolute light,
nibbling at your breast
it's the infant Sun.
And the world is dark in contrast,
for you are it's eclipse.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Obama- will he save the world?
As Obama took over as the President of the United States of America the entire world watched with bated breath.
The tv viewership stats went through the roof, the audience was the world after all.
But what makes Obama's Presidency so special? apart from something as obvious and superficial as the colour of his skin.
The premise that for Obama the top priority was to 'better' the world is absurd. Like any other head of state he will look only as far as the interests of his country.
And does America's destiny determine the world's? well in a lot of ways it does.
But if Obama takes jobs out of the outsourcing industry countries like India will be hit hard. But then he has to make jobs for the thousands of unemployed americans. It will be a step in keeping with the interest of his country but not the world's.
He has also proposed to take troops out of Iraq and deploy them in Afghanistan, and shut down Guantanamo Bay- steps in the right direction but lets not forget that Iraq was never the hub of terrorism the way Afghanistan was, and continues to be.
More troops in that region will not necessarily curtail terrorism. Outfits like the Al-Qaeda are bound to feel frustrated with the added pressure and a desperate terrorist outfit is the worst of its kind.
So will Obama realist that the United States cant live in isolation and let other countries feel the pinch of terrorism, its a problem that the US created and they have to deal with it, with the assistance of the rest of the world.
But with the stance that Obama took in the Israel-Palestine conflict it seems unlikely that Obama will switch sides.
Even as innocents were massacred in Gaza, Obama looked to justify the strikes by the Israeli forces.
Barack Obama is an excellent orator and has therefore captured the imagination of the world, but lets not harbour any false hopes, not dream fantastical dreams that stand little chance of being realised.
Let's not set ourselves up for a heartbreak.
Barack Hussain Obama is the 44th president of the United States, nothing more, nothing less.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
what Fight Club character are you
| what Fight Club character are you tyler durden
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| Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests. |
Thursday, December 25, 2008
2nd of January 2008
The 3rd of January 2008 is, and will forever be the longest day of my life.
The day lasted some 30 hours, and everytime I look back at it, I end up thinking of the previous evening instead.
The 2nd of January 2008, began like any other day. Cold, grey and very wintery. It was a regular working day and I was busy at work when I got a call from home.
"Her blood pressure is up, beta and the doctor has asked us to take her to the hospital for a checkup. We have come home to collec some supplies and will then go to the hospital. I'll keep you posted about any developments."
"What the fuck!" I thought dreading my inability to be with them at that hour. To be the one managing things rather than mom and dad. I am so much cooler and calmer in my estimation.
Plus she will never really tell them what she needs.
For her I should be there.
"Fuck fuck fuck"
Couple of hours pass.
Another call from home, "Listen they have admitted her. They say that he BP is high so they will keep her under observation for 24 hours, if her BP drops then they will discharge her in the morning. What's your scene? Are you really tied up?"
"Not really, I'll finish up early and try and be there by 8-ish, then you guys leave and I will bring her home in the morning." I said, relieved.
I reached the hospital around 8 and went straight to her room, 304 I think it was. Both my moms were there, I sent them home telling them to send the car in the morning at about 9.
The pains started a little while after dinner. They were intense and came after regular intervals.
"I think its time", she said.
"But didnt the doctors say that we still had about 20 days"
"Yeah but they cant be certain, no one can. There is no way to know for sure. But I know, its time. It exactly how its supposed to be."
"We should go to the doc".
I returned to the room alone. The doctors kept her back in the exam room to keep an eye on her, even though they reiterated that all signs were normal and that we had another 15-20 days.
But to save us the trouble of limping to the exam room after every half an hour or so they decided to keep her in the exam room itself.
In a matter of hours I had been transported from my office to a hospital room.
Alone, confused and completely out of my element, I was at my wits end. Not knowing what else to do, Itried to sleep but it kept evading me like a sweet childhood memory.
I was in a state of semi-drowsiness when the nurse came and told me that it was time.
I looked at the clock, it was almost 4 am, no time for me to wake up anyone at home. I decided to let them sleep for another two hours or so.
As the clock struck 6 I called up my mother and told her to collect all the stuff and come to the hospital.
They reached by about 8.
All this while I was alone in the hospital hoping everything was alright.
I went to meet her too, sometime in the morning, not sure now of the time, but she was in tremendous pain and wouldnt even open her eyes to look at me.
She only said that if the doctors didnt perform an operation then she will not make it.
She was sure of it. Nothing the doctors said changed it.
The doctors however, are part of a cruel breed. No amount of tears or screams affects them.
They are like mathematicians, they simply put the right figure for each variable and solve the equation as thy go along.
The doctors assured me and sent me back to the room.
They were not going to go for the operation, and they turned down my request to lie about it to her too.
Help arrived soon after.
And like mothers always do, they immediately took over. Each one doing her bit to ease the situation and help out in their own way.
That part of the day is a blur- blurry images of me pacing down the corridor, of her mom weeping, of my mom catching hold of whichever nurse she could find to get some information out of her which she would then pass onto me.
It was she who broke the news to me.
At about 9.40 in the morning of the 3rd of january 2008 my son came into this world.
A healthy boy of 5-and-some pounds, and yes she had seen him, and yes she was fine, and yes she was sure he was mine.
The day lasted some 30 hours, and everytime I look back at it, I end up thinking of the previous evening instead.
The 2nd of January 2008, began like any other day. Cold, grey and very wintery. It was a regular working day and I was busy at work when I got a call from home.
"Her blood pressure is up, beta and the doctor has asked us to take her to the hospital for a checkup. We have come home to collec some supplies and will then go to the hospital. I'll keep you posted about any developments."
"What the fuck!" I thought dreading my inability to be with them at that hour. To be the one managing things rather than mom and dad. I am so much cooler and calmer in my estimation.
Plus she will never really tell them what she needs.
For her I should be there.
"Fuck fuck fuck"
Couple of hours pass.
Another call from home, "Listen they have admitted her. They say that he BP is high so they will keep her under observation for 24 hours, if her BP drops then they will discharge her in the morning. What's your scene? Are you really tied up?"
"Not really, I'll finish up early and try and be there by 8-ish, then you guys leave and I will bring her home in the morning." I said, relieved.
I reached the hospital around 8 and went straight to her room, 304 I think it was. Both my moms were there, I sent them home telling them to send the car in the morning at about 9.
The pains started a little while after dinner. They were intense and came after regular intervals.
"I think its time", she said.
"But didnt the doctors say that we still had about 20 days"
"Yeah but they cant be certain, no one can. There is no way to know for sure. But I know, its time. It exactly how its supposed to be."
"We should go to the doc".
I returned to the room alone. The doctors kept her back in the exam room to keep an eye on her, even though they reiterated that all signs were normal and that we had another 15-20 days.
But to save us the trouble of limping to the exam room after every half an hour or so they decided to keep her in the exam room itself.
In a matter of hours I had been transported from my office to a hospital room.
Alone, confused and completely out of my element, I was at my wits end. Not knowing what else to do, Itried to sleep but it kept evading me like a sweet childhood memory.
I was in a state of semi-drowsiness when the nurse came and told me that it was time.
I looked at the clock, it was almost 4 am, no time for me to wake up anyone at home. I decided to let them sleep for another two hours or so.
As the clock struck 6 I called up my mother and told her to collect all the stuff and come to the hospital.
They reached by about 8.
All this while I was alone in the hospital hoping everything was alright.
I went to meet her too, sometime in the morning, not sure now of the time, but she was in tremendous pain and wouldnt even open her eyes to look at me.
She only said that if the doctors didnt perform an operation then she will not make it.
She was sure of it. Nothing the doctors said changed it.
The doctors however, are part of a cruel breed. No amount of tears or screams affects them.
They are like mathematicians, they simply put the right figure for each variable and solve the equation as thy go along.
The doctors assured me and sent me back to the room.
They were not going to go for the operation, and they turned down my request to lie about it to her too.
Help arrived soon after.
And like mothers always do, they immediately took over. Each one doing her bit to ease the situation and help out in their own way.
That part of the day is a blur- blurry images of me pacing down the corridor, of her mom weeping, of my mom catching hold of whichever nurse she could find to get some information out of her which she would then pass onto me.
It was she who broke the news to me.
At about 9.40 in the morning of the 3rd of january 2008 my son came into this world.
A healthy boy of 5-and-some pounds, and yes she had seen him, and yes she was fine, and yes she was sure he was mine.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The darkness closes in
A million words unspoken
countless promises made and broken,
a home as silent as a coffin
a heart as dark as a grave.
Sharp edges of shattered glass light up my days
a dark sun rises and clouds up my nights,
but a bright sun continues to shine
promising salvation, completing my universe, helping me lose myself.
I'm tired, my armour broken, my guns spent
my blade rusty, and bloody has begin to crack,
I bleed from the inside, but its a fight that will take me to my end
I know it, and I carry on, for fight I must.
I walk on cracked skulls, thigh bones under my feet
grey dust around me, blinding me, bones in my eyes,
vanquished monsters return over and over
same battles unending, even as new battles begin.
countless promises made and broken,
a home as silent as a coffin
a heart as dark as a grave.
Sharp edges of shattered glass light up my days
a dark sun rises and clouds up my nights,
but a bright sun continues to shine
promising salvation, completing my universe, helping me lose myself.
I'm tired, my armour broken, my guns spent
my blade rusty, and bloody has begin to crack,
I bleed from the inside, but its a fight that will take me to my end
I know it, and I carry on, for fight I must.
I walk on cracked skulls, thigh bones under my feet
grey dust around me, blinding me, bones in my eyes,
vanquished monsters return over and over
same battles unending, even as new battles begin.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
In Skulls grow Roses
For every good there exists evil
for every victory comes with loss,
for every light comes with a shadow
for every liberal there exists a fanatic.
For every sane man is insane inside
with every rise comes a fall,
for every white has a grain of black in it
for every faithful there stands a kaafir.
For every dream comes a nightmare
for every paradise is eventually lost,
for every angel comes a fall
for every destination comes with a journey.
for every victory comes with loss,
for every light comes with a shadow
for every liberal there exists a fanatic.
For every sane man is insane inside
with every rise comes a fall,
for every white has a grain of black in it
for every faithful there stands a kaafir.
For every dream comes a nightmare
for every paradise is eventually lost,
for every angel comes a fall
for every destination comes with a journey.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
BARBED
How can I get lost, when i dont know where I'm going
yet the feeling persists, like dark clouds that dont rain
I cut myself just to see how far I can go,
I drink my blood, and it's tasteless.
Wrapped in barbed wire,
the more I struggle, the more I bleed.
Pain is temporary, but so are smiles
Pain is temporary, but so are smiles
Only memories last forever.
Memories and broken promises.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Saturday, October 04, 2008
What's it all for?
Poems.
Communities on social networking sites. Half hour specials. Call in shows. A political drama. Anger, frustration.
Soumya's death has made me realise how tragically impotent and incompetent we all are.
The media.
The fourth pillar of democracy.
We are demanding that the case be cracked, we are demanding that the suspects be nabbed. All perfectly valid demands, nothing exorbitant.
But looking at the situation objectively, what do the cops have to go on? No eyewitnesses. Maybe a little forensic evidence which seems too random to actually be able to yield anything substantial.
Yet we demand.
Fully knowing that what we are asking for is a miracle, considering how incompetent our police force is.
Will our signing online petitions, writing poems and blogs, make them competent? will it impart intelligence in its officers?
Will half an hour specials, headlines, newspaper reports make the officers ace sleuths who will crack a case, which,let's be honest, is a tough one ?
We are comparing Soumya's case, to the Jessica Lal, Priyadarshini Mattoo, Nitish Katara cases. We are saying we got them justice so why cant we get justice for one of our own?
But maybe what we are forgetting is that those cases were solved. The suspects were behind bars, what we were doing, and what all those candlelight marches etc ensured was that justice was served.
The the right thing happened.
Here we are at point zero.
There are no suspects, no clues, no arrests, nothing.
Can we really do this on our own?
Can the media simply just make things happen?
Is the pen also mightier than the magic wand?
Communities on social networking sites. Half hour specials. Call in shows. A political drama. Anger, frustration.
Soumya's death has made me realise how tragically impotent and incompetent we all are.
The media.
The fourth pillar of democracy.
We are demanding that the case be cracked, we are demanding that the suspects be nabbed. All perfectly valid demands, nothing exorbitant.
But looking at the situation objectively, what do the cops have to go on? No eyewitnesses. Maybe a little forensic evidence which seems too random to actually be able to yield anything substantial.
Yet we demand.
Fully knowing that what we are asking for is a miracle, considering how incompetent our police force is.
Will our signing online petitions, writing poems and blogs, make them competent? will it impart intelligence in its officers?
Will half an hour specials, headlines, newspaper reports make the officers ace sleuths who will crack a case, which,let's be honest, is a tough one ?
We are comparing Soumya's case, to the Jessica Lal, Priyadarshini Mattoo, Nitish Katara cases. We are saying we got them justice so why cant we get justice for one of our own?
But maybe what we are forgetting is that those cases were solved. The suspects were behind bars, what we were doing, and what all those candlelight marches etc ensured was that justice was served.
The the right thing happened.
Here we are at point zero.
There are no suspects, no clues, no arrests, nothing.
Can we really do this on our own?
Can the media simply just make things happen?
Is the pen also mightier than the magic wand?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
REST IN PEACE
8 Dec 1982-30 Sep 2008
Soumya V, as we all knew her, was shot in the head while she was on her way home from work.
We dont know who did it or why.
She was a sweet, helpful girl and I pray that her soul finds peace and the culprit is brought to justice.
A Sun eclipsed,
a dark morning, but the glow remains
and the warmth,
of her smile.
The eyes are her memory
which will stay on,
like bright stars on a dark night
for stars can't be eclipsed.
A red moon rises,
and paints the town blue
rivers flow mindlessly on this day
when clouds dry up, faces crack open.
Look at the wet dark night,
look at the rain
and look! was that a shooting star
or did the sky just cry?
Friday, September 12, 2008
God's Own
I am God's two hands
I am His little fingers,
I am God's resolve
His tool of destruction.
I am God's glorious smile
I am His blackened tooth,
I am God's falling hair
the lice in His itching mane.
I am God's ever increasing disappointment
I am His overshadowing glare,
I am God's all burning wrath
I am the fire that keeps Him warm.
I am God's Hell
I too am His creation.
I am His little fingers,
I am God's resolve
His tool of destruction.
I am God's glorious smile
I am His blackened tooth,
I am God's falling hair
the lice in His itching mane.
I am God's ever increasing disappointment
I am His overshadowing glare,
I am God's all burning wrath
I am the fire that keeps Him warm.
I am God's Hell
I too am His creation.
Friday, July 25, 2008
HELL'S ANGELS
A punching bag for fairies,
fairies with brass knuckles and switch blades
flying on a grey sky,
carrying me to the sun.
Scalding
smoking
boiling
frying
Fairies with bodies of fire and water
fairies with angel faces and demon hearts,
fairies white pure fluffy powder snow
raining down every moment,
searching for fresh prey.
Scalding
smoking
boiling
frying
They hunt with hooks of gold
they kill with diamond bullets.
And I live and I bleed and I weep and I die.
fairies with brass knuckles and switch blades
flying on a grey sky,
carrying me to the sun.
Scalding
smoking
boiling
frying
Fairies with bodies of fire and water
fairies with angel faces and demon hearts,
fairies white pure fluffy powder snow
raining down every moment,
searching for fresh prey.
Scalding
smoking
boiling
frying
They hunt with hooks of gold
they kill with diamond bullets.
And I live and I bleed and I weep and I die.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
TAGGED- ON A ROAD TRIP
Tagged
Shadow Lor tagged me with the road trip meme. The rules are:
-- Pick five CDs for the trip.
1. metallica black
2. nirvana nevermind
3. creed greatest hits
4. GNR appetite for destruction
5. Eminem greatest hits
-- Pick three essential items.
1. Soap
2. Toothbrush
3. Toothpaste
-- Pick one outrageous wardrobe item (something that will make you stand out at a party; you must own this item already).
My pink floral shirt
I will pick 3 people to do this.
Impressionist
Zephyr
Crimson Shimmer
Shadow Lor tagged me with the road trip meme. The rules are:
-- Pick five CDs for the trip.
1. metallica black
2. nirvana nevermind
3. creed greatest hits
4. GNR appetite for destruction
5. Eminem greatest hits
-- Pick three essential items.
1. Soap
2. Toothbrush
3. Toothpaste
-- Pick one outrageous wardrobe item (something that will make you stand out at a party; you must own this item already).
My pink floral shirt
I will pick 3 people to do this.
Impressionist
Zephyr
Crimson Shimmer
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Prisoner of fate?
Sometimes life can make you feel like a parrot in a cage.
Took this pic of 'mithu' the pet parrot, wish I could free him.
Poor soul.
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