Life....like I've seen it!

Painting your nails bright pink, at 3am, for a party you haven’t been invited to yet.

Staring at the mirror and making funny faces and laughing….relating lesser to the person in the mirror…

Trying so very hard to be fundamental and philosophical that you over-do it…ending up as a gossip in the girl’s washroom!

Being so happy that the world is gadget oriented…..boredom is never an option now…but it’s the most commonest excuse..

Dinner with long distant relatives you have never met, on the night of your favorite TV show airing live..

A car splashing a monsoon puddle on to you just on the day you choose to wear white.

Carrying a mint chocolates in your bag…..3 different varieties..

Lying through your teeth over the phone about being five minutes away from your destination …

Having coffee with your best friends and talking about how awesome life would be if you had a flat stomach..

Dreaming into space and laughing at jokes only you can understand…

Text messaging a person who you met a few minutes ago..

Getting tattoos in symbols and languages you can never read and write..

Staying up all night on social network sites and typing lyk dis cuz itz soooo kewl!

Dancing to the most horrible and un-danceable songs ever, coz you love it..

Breaking something and hiding it under blankets and clothes so that your mom doesn’t catch you…

Singing songs with inappropriate lyrics very loudly when no one’s there at home !

Feeling handicapped without your cell phone near you..

Joining various weird sounding groups on Facebook….groups you don’t even bother to check later…

Claiming that the roadside food stalls are immunity boosters and are the best medication anyone can ever have!

Believing blindly in the miracles of various hair products and cosmetics..

Filling the last pages of your notebook with doodles….hearts….lyrics of your favorite songs and your signature in three different ways..

Keeping the A/C in full blast and sleeping under two blankets!

Setting your watch 10 mins fast thinking that it’ll make you punctual…

Life....like I've seen it!

Jaded hearts and a Pocket full of Sunshine!

All the bizarre friends in my head keep me sound,

All the skepticism in my thoughts- makes me sick to the bone,

And I ignite the flames that burn my disguise,

The mask I would rather wear to go through my days,

And I cry with the sound of a million broken smiles,

I cry to get away from there,

I create dreams of the life I would rather have with the resentment of what it could have been,

I become happy with the smallest and silliest things, things that may not even exist in the real world, and yet are so potent in my head,

I’m a mind-boggling version of me, so amazing….so very real…

I’m self-righteous, but I care,

I’m stubborn, but I mature,

I’m selfish, but I love unconditionally,

I’m fixated, yet I unleash,

I’m free, but my feet are well grounded,

I’m an addict, but I’m restrained,

I’m fragile, but I’m strong-minded,

I’m victimized, but I’m optimistic,

I’m imperfect, but I’m sane,

My life….. my problem…

Don’t critic me, correct me,

Don’t pity me, accept me,

Don’t leave me, allow me,

Don’t disregard me, believe me…

TIME...

Time,
That void between birth and death,
The emptiness that fills our very reason for existence,
The gaping hole between who we are and who we like to believe we would become one day,
The people who we made smile and the tears we instigate,
The carnival of our ignorance,

Time is a charade,
The subconscious balance that wobbles the very foundation of the life we build around us – our precious refuge.
The soul of the imaginary, yet uncertain.

Time leaves us helpless,
And yet, it gives us the strength to deal with the helplessness and hopelessness,
It teaches us to inquire, to believe,
It’s just a reason, an excuse,
That seat in the back row, which always remains empty,
That orange autumn leaf in a tree with a full bloom,
That smile between kisses,
That soft touch of love, evanescent,
Each drop of what drives us with red,
It’s like a fever that we can’t sweat out,
It’s like the dance around a bonfire, of the burnt pages that we’ve scribbled our feelings on,
Every feeling that we want to let go,
We are still the fools at the wrong end of a cigarette, with every breath we take, the fire still burns at the other end,
It burns cavernous holes into the very soul it’s destined to satisfy,
Such big holes, that it gives away all our insecurities to the world,

Time is irony,
We’re the enemy and the prisoner,
A prisoner of words, and yet only a reflection,
Helpless and still bizarre.
It’s the immobilized, daft existence that validates its present, past and future, if there is one,

Time is not being able to find a better word,
Pleasure and pain, all at the same time,
Time is ambiguous,
Full of feelings, and yet the lack of them,
The numbness,


And everything burns away --with time,
The rapture, the recognition, the renaissance…..

Missing Lattice..

I walked through the barren lands, beyond the barbed wires and broken fences. ..


And there stood a church which was once full….Full of people, full of wonderful Sunday dresses, full of gossip, full of faith, Full of blasphemy- well present, but ignored…


That’s how I know this place. I had abandoned it, many a summer ago – in a search for a better life..


Now, I was back to this same place, the same fork in the road, and I was greeted half-heartedly by the same church. Only, nothing was the same anymore. 


Vultures perched on the broken fences, where happy squirrels used to scamper before. The beautiful flower garden was replaced by a bunch of cobwebs. The orange-red autumn leaves, which once brought warmth here, now made it look spooky. 


I walked in to examine the god-forsaken place. There wasn’t a sound, not even a priest. The alter looked like a stage after a poorly performed play. And the most important area of the church, which was never found empty…which was always full of army wives, alcoholics, the poor, the diseased, the widowed,….was shockingly abandoned.  Yes, the confessional- the busiest corner of the church. 


To me, the idea of confessing has always been intriguing. Does admitting one’s mistake change anything in the big picture..?  Does that little wooden box with a lattice—wait! The lattice is missing. Now that explains a lot. Now I know why the church had been abandoned. Now I know why no one came.  The favorite motivational corner for everyone was gone…and so was their faith.. Fancy a church without a fully functional confessional!


I believe strongly in the goodness of life and things. And I cannot accept that we can wash our hands of all that we have said and done in the past, just be putting them in words and have someone to hear them out. Boy, do I envy the priest’s job then!


But today, a church has proved me wrong. I see the light, not by divine intervention, but by embracing that there isn't much as evil as divinity.


Just the lack of a lattice that makes one’s face not-so hidden from the priest anymore right?  (And yes! You think the priest doesn’t recognize your voice, by now? Nicely done dear! ). You really believe in safety? 


Religion has forever bound us in its clutches, blinded us, hoodwinked us, even divided us. I’ve heard this said before: what nourishes us, destroys us. Now I see it for real. Structured religion was started out to inculcate a fear, a discipline among the people. What started out as suitably dignified.. has blown up into a redundant burden.  A formality.  An evil concept, only good enough to mask the evil that people do.


Call me a skeptic (like that’s a bad thing!). But now I’ve realized what they mean when they say, every virtuous act is inspired by a dark secret. A confession never made. A missing lattice.  

PLASTIC!

Walking out of our houses every day,

There is a new hope.

But whats new about it??

Coz we wish for the same thing every time.

More dopamine…

Caffeine…

A wish for love at first sight,

A hot date every night,

Life insurance, low interest rates,

Delicious food on platinum plates.

A sexy figure, a size-zero waist,

Sugary flavored toothpaste,

Humanity without war and poverty,

A ticket sure to win the lottery,

A two storey house,

A wealthy spouse,

Discussing  politics with a stranger in the train,

Obama is black! So let’s choose Mc Cain!

An apology to a friend, way overdue,

A pistol in your closet, with a bullet or two,

This script called life, it isn’t ours, neither is the screenplay,

But we drown ourselves in the act everyday,

We are so very trivial; we blame things on bad luck,

And that make our reality really sick to its stomach,

Until you wanna throw out, all that you ate,

A dish of disaster, all over your precious platinum plate,

Please stop this now,

And see what you have done,

The person you wanted to be,

Is nowhere near what you have become,

Open your eyes, stop and see,

Fear makes you a jailbird, hope sets you free,

All of us, abuse originality,

All of us, exist in vanity,

All of us, are hard, cold, shiny…

PLASTIC!

Be my Cigar!

Be my cigar, honey,

Be my doorway to this earth,

Of sightless needs and smoky rings,

To love, to life and everything.

Like through your gorgeous eyes, the sunlight bleeds,

Be the fulfillment to my every need,

And when I get lost in your grin of pearls,

Help me chase away these smoky swirls.

Light this cigar for me, honey,

Burn for me, like I’ve burnt for you,

Confirm my addiction to this world,

Be my cigar honey,

Be my link to this world.

Help me escape from this frightening illusion,

These clouds of smoke and harsh confusion,

Escape from my lips, like a flood of lace,

Be by my side and don’t fall from grace.

Be my cigar, honey,

Be my doorway to this earth,

Of sightless needs and smoky rings,

To love, to life and everything.

I am Irony...

I am irony


I’m an ally of truth and a lover of lies,
The look of love through blood lusting eyes,


A burning firehouse, on a rainy day,
The urge to run faster, when you lose your way,


A damaged record, of the Sonata of Silence,
A serene death, for a life of violence,

A vacant coffin, an empty gun,
A never-ending bridge, a virgin’s son,

A raging fire, a dying flame,
Love, cynicism, resentment and blame….


I am irony

........And a bottle of rum!

The sky was the colour of complacence..


Well, if complacence was a colour, it would be this one..

Davis Booth died today...

A guy who had grown to be a wrong person..

We had been talking for a long time..

Running out of rum, but not out of conversation..

He was a nice man..

I wish he didn’t have to die..

I wish I didn’t have to kill him..

I’m not the person who kills someone..

I’m the one who messes with their heads..

Making them wanna kill themselves..

Davis had been stabbed four times with a knife..

It wasn’t dramatic as I had imagined my first murder to be..

I stood there…staring, biting my lips sore..

I don’t think I’m gonna kill again..

You always imagine murder as blood and struggle..

You always tend to ignore disposing the body, cleaning the weapon,

Which is actually the most tiresome part..

Why did I kill Davis..?

There are no reasons..

But who wants one when you have a knife, a map,

Some cheap rum and a decent amount of gratitude for a little death once in a while?

A good day!

Morning..
Sunrise...
Open, my eyes,

And I can tell it's gonna be a good day
I can tell it's gonna be a good day!