Monday, February 27, 2012

Sleaze


Caressed by a cool breeze
Reignited the fire that began to seize
Touch me again if you may, please
Crime it may be, it may be sleaze
Time has passed gone are the days
It is a distant dream what once were our daily plays
A beautiful child that I had to slay
What’s left is castles of sand tombs of clay
Walk through that door again, someday
I will pray, I will pray!!

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Those were the Days


                                                  
Whenever I look back I see that past was much glorious and meaningful than what we have now. Past may not necessarily mean the time frame of my life but the times gone by. Of all it would have been nice to still have the rebellion nature that we so dearly had. People had a cause to fight for , meaningful words to sing, leaders to follow, wars to die for.

People will have a counter theory and would debate endlessly on such thoughts. Today we might have better cars , houses, buildings to show for but are they really what it seems? Thinking from  a conspiracy theorist angle I can safely say it’s all a plot. Constant degradation of quality of things and making people engrossed in little petty things.  A trap which we all have succumbed to. So nobody raise a word or influence people or start a revolution and the worst part is I have no clue who is behind it and gaining from it. Cause I see we as a race are suffering and nothing else.

The songs today have no meaning no soul no words. Just set some tune get some hot girls ,repeat few words on beat and voila, A HIT. Me who is still hung on to 60s and 70s consider it a crime to even let these songs being aired. Back in those days people sang what they felt and saw. I don’t see any artist today of same caliber who puts it as he sees it. Doubt that? Freddy Mercury, Jim Morrison, John Lennon…need I say more. These people had impact of a stature that president of USA and so many more strong leaders at a time wanted Mr. Lennon dead!! I wonder if today any artist is even thought about by the so called politicians as a threat.

Previous generations had leaders to follow. Endless list of freedom fighters , Hitler ,Mandela, Che Guevara. People might shriek as I mentioned Hitler in the same breath as the greats. Well he was a great too, on the other side of spectrum but no doubt he was great. Somebody who can mesmerize so many people that they dance on his tune and do as he says, speaks volume about him. Wonder what would have happened if had decide to go against corruption or poverty. As the universe goes, everything needs a counter force. So maybe to get a leader/hero who leads us we need an evil big enough to unite us all and give us a cause. Alas none is evident from where I see the picture.

As far as war goes humans have killed each other ever since the start of mankind. Even then I have heard and read about wars that were fought for love, honor, freedom, sounds so much better than oil, politics or keeping the people’s head off a sex scandal (Mr. Bill would ring a bell J)  

We had so much history made and now I wonder what kind of history is being written. What legacy will be part of. The generation who lived the most selfish life!! Running for a 2 bedroom house a car and some bank balance. Generation of soda, pizza and burgers.

I wish ohh universe I so wish we have a revolution!!

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

My Journey



I wrote what now is History
I solved what once was mystery
In hand of greats 
I have written from poem to Veds
Today as I lay here in your sight 
All you need to do is pick me up and write

- Pic & Quote courtesy by a friend (RA)

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Flawed


Easily angered
Flawed character
Easily offended
So meekly have surrendered
Biased actions
Cold and numb
Seldom smart always dumb
Less of a hero more of a scum
In here I am called a man  

Monday, May 16, 2011

Born in Blood


Born in blood a shadow within
That day a dark passenger crept in
Bathed in a crimson pool
A sight that is shown in no school
A little boy lost his innocence
Eyes froze, heart that has no Conscience
A fellow traveler devoid of emotion
Killing the killers evens his commotion
Follows a code when he hits the road
He has no baggage, he carries no load
He stalks his prey and waits for the hunt
Under the wrap of darkness a needle goes in
The sinner wakes on a table, will now pay for his sin
A monster awakens and the mask slips
Steely knifes, plastic sheets are his keeps

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Front Seat


She sits on the front seat
Linger long on front seat
Her hair is long
She moves like a song
Her smile is like a knife that is recently sharpened
I know there is nothing that can happen

She sits on the front seat
Linger long on front seat
Her name is music
Her steps fall in rhythm  
She has wisdom and she knows what to do
She has me and she has you


  • - My version of Jim's Love street

Monday, May 9, 2011

Me & My Backpack


Towering mountain on my back
Woods all around
Gentle stream flows by
Thunder roars and rain pours on my tent
And it’s me and my back pack
I sit mesmerized at natures might
The lightning turns the sky bright
Scarred I turn my music from loud to louder
I am suddenly at peace
All doubts and fear cease to exists
I surrender to the only might
In the night and starlight
Just me and my Backpack

Friday, March 18, 2011

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Together we studied
Together we grew
United we stood
Together we flew

Synchronized were our actions
Laughs were never in fraction
So picturesque was a dream
Always had a shoulder to lean

A morning so bright
The guilt so light
Step were always right
Oh! We were such a sight

Our paths we walk
How seldom we talk
Yet together we flock
We are such a famous mob
I am sure we will all reach the TOP!!

Sicilian



So dark the con of man
Deep induced is the pain
Life no more flows through the veins
Blood no more dries of this stain
Treachery and pain is what remain
Where do we go from here, how much more do we bear?
Standing up for the rights we have no choice but to fight

There is no way out of here
Put on your armors we need to strike
Calling on all the knights
Come and let’s shine so bright
What we are seeking is the blue light

So dark the con of man
We need to dream of freedom
Open the eyes that are closed
Charm the faces that are lost
Its getting darker, seems light is round the corner 

Free Soul !!




















I want to be free
Free from the promises that I never made
Free from the sins that I never committed
Free like a wind and flow, rampant sometimes slow
Be like river and make my way through the mountains into the sea  
I want to be light that show what darkness hides
No rules tying me up nothing to abide
I want to question all the answers and seek what lies inside 
I want to be free,
Then why do I end up being tied
Showing what I have to hide
Walking the way as told
Being a coward when I have to be bold
Trying to match to the pace when I should be chasing my dreams
Walking the same old path when I should be floating with the stream
Can I be free?
As I end up being a slave to myself
Trapped within the boundary that I have drawn
Trying to break the locks that I have the key for
Is it my rules holding me back or yours?
I want to be free so shall I be 

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Lord , Life Sucks !!


Hope and dreams
Mirages and self comforting
How long can a man live on these
Doing everything as we got someone to please
I see people living and enjoing their life
Some have expensive gifts and some beautiful wives
All I got is a distant voice and set of silly choices
Only time I feel wanted is when a letter gets to me through post
Even that finds me after a lot of effort

It feels like the system has forgotten to put me in the scheme of events
Fat lady is out there to charm everyone and give me few more dents
I am dead in my coffin and life knocks to ask me for the rent
Lord almighty , I ask , for once can the rules be bent

I have hoped and kept patience
Its time I be rewarded for my deeds
There is a lot that I dream , there is a lot that I need
 Move your wand and sow the seeds
Of a life that is envied by the mere mortals
Where all the directions come with good luck and open the treasure portals

Friday, March 19, 2010

A Journey called Life!!


Destination, ever so important , scale of success , source of happiness , we all are in pursuit of a destination. One point to another is all that matters. This obsession with destination has engulfed the mere mortals to the heights that we have become numb to something that is happening to us quietly, Life.


6:45 AM the alarm goes off , loud shrill voice that can raise the dead from the graves. Nothing else would do, after all Shawn was considered to be in hall of fame for sleeping in college days. Conscious mind takes over the sub conscious mind and so does a sinking feeling. Everyday Shawn wakes up to just one thought , same battle rages in his conscious mind, same questions hangs before him , staring straight in his eyes and asking , shall we or shall we not go to work ? His hand like a well programmed machine goes on the mobile and puts the alarm on snooze mode even when his eyes are so not ready to open up. 5 more minutes to sleep. Its funny how those 5 minutes can fulfill you knowing that those are your last for the day, last of the 5 hours sleep Shawn takes. Alarm goes off again and this time he jumps off the bed. Its a race against time every morning. 15 minutes to get office ready and reach the waiting cab which waits at a 3 minutes walk. So the destination cab begins and a well laid set of rules follows. Even a slight deviation would mean getting late so the run has to be perfect. Most of the times he makes it but sometimes he has to calls in late. After all every warrior has an Archilies heel. This morning the path has been well followed and he locks the home with exact 3 minutes to go. 3 minutes where he walks while he thinks , how long will I do this, how long will I not follow my dream? and then takes over the corridor of uncertainity , What exactly is my dream ? The cab is right where it always is. Shawn opens the door and gets inside. Destination Cab reached and hence starts the next pursuit of destination.
Destination Office. Its a distance of 45KM and early start ensures that it is covered at most in an hour.  Shawn ensures that he carries a small part of sleep in his eyes everyday and use it at the right time. The day starts with exchange of good mornings amongst the fellow travelers. Good old days, when it use to start with 'uth sale 15 ghante se so raha hai, le chai & sutta' and there was always music around. Back in the cab Shawn reads the news paper. This is the one thing not changed since his school days. Newspaper, flip it around and start from the back. Sports news, my kinda news and the cartoon strip, absolute delight. Rest all always has been insignificant. Once done he uses the ounce of sleep he carries in his eyes. Nap for 40 minutes. If sleep is evading you fool yourself and say , we gonna take a nap and if you have ever loved Garfield, you will take a NAP!! Dad said reading always pays and I so agree but then cartoon strip pays off too. Not many know that ...Shhh!!!  and so the cab which I would more like to think of as an evil machine which takes you away from the comfort of home to behind enemy lines, reaches another destination, Destination Office.
The war begins and so does another pursuit, EOD . The rules are simple here. everyone is a machine , nobody is indispensable, meet your deadlines, try not to fancy yourself in corporate politics  until unless you consider yourself real cunning and you might just survive the day. Emotions and relations are not appreciated quality in this part of the world and everyone looks at others with skepticism and selflessness, to the minutest level is a lost virtue. Another set of rules is to be followed but then Shawn did not decide them.What to do and by when it has to be done is pre decided. All Shawn does is execute them. He is no mug in following the rules and he follows them well but then he always has that lingering question just like one he had in morning, Will I or will I not ever break free ? and just like morning comes the uncertain part , Break free to what ?
Few meetings, certain executions , some directions and sutta breaks brings him to the magical figure of 5. Time to wrap up and leave. He has not let any raised eyebrow effect him from leaving well 10 minutes before most. Another destination has been reached, EOD is here. Its time to begin the pursuit of best part of the day.  Back Home. It will not be easy in this over crowded metro. The journey will take double the time it took in the morning and its time to think of Garfield again. What else can you do sitting in a cab for 2 hours , stare at the angry honking traffic. Thats all we have become , humans to traffic. Every one in pursuit of a destination and wants to reach there earliest possible.
Two hours of a vicious journey ends and destination home is reached. The part where Shawn is free to do as he please till the next dawn. Till the alarm goes off again. Where the moto is ' Who says I can't get stoned 
Turn off the lights and the telephone ,Me in my house alone ,Who says I can't be free ,From all of the things that I used to be ,Rewrite my history.. 

Little did he know, in pursuit of destination he has forgotten the real ever so important journey.
These destinations has blinded Shawn to the journey called life. After all the journeys are the one that make the story and never the destination. Somebody never told my dear friend Robert, if woods are lovely, dark and deep, stop and enjoy for some time after all this is what the destination really wants us to see. Cause destinations are always ends of the journey and its the journey that hold the beauty. A journey called Life..

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

My First Tattoo!!




My First
The Prop

8th of Nov 2009 was the date set. It had taken me and my fickle mind years to decide whether I am going to get it done or not. You live just once so why not, is what I finally concluded. I had given her 3 as my time when I will reach and just like all true patriots I reached two hours late. But then I put the blame of me being late on a lovely lady who I dropped at the airport at 4. At 5 two hours late from the set time, I was parking my car in front of a lovely house surrounded by trees. I was greeted by a sturdy guy and a beautiful looking girl with her shiny hair falling till her shoulder dressed in a turquoise top. I have always liked turquoise on girls. It just makes their beauty even more radiant. She was my artist who was going to give me something that I will always carry on my body and I would not have selected her if I did not like her instantly. The guy had looks which made it evident he was not ready to put his guards down so early, not yet, after all she was his lady and any man would be protective and apprehensive. After all I was about to be bare chest for hours in front of her…

‘Come in dude’ said the guy and so broke my trance of observation and I was back in reality. I walked in the house. It was a 2 floor house beautifully decorated and a lawn studding its beauty. I envied him for having such a beautiful house. As I started climbing the stairs alone, I could see this guy had a thing for interiors. The strategically placed earthen pots on the staircase and a glimpse of 1st floor showed each item was handpicked. All piece of art but then with that space and money I was sure I could do better. Creativity is a strange thing; it gives you the power of creating something new and sometimes takes over you, makes you believe you can always do better. I guess the flight of fancy, the desire to make it better is what keeps the creativity alive in this monotonous world. I reached the 2nd floor and walked in a huge room mostly empty. It had a kitchen set at one side however with no utensils and it was evident it was never used for cooking but more as a prop. It was decorated with different color and different brand alcohol bottles, all empty though. Right opposite, close to the wall lay a LCD with home theatre below it. The four speakers looked liked soldiers of Sparta; they were tall, well built armored in black and ready to make their presence felt, in a mean way. The four were posted on four corners of the room, ever so ready to attack. They did make some soothing sound while I was there.

The Centre Court

On the other side which shaped to form a room there stood two chairs kept on a rug. The chairs looked like Helen of Troy and her twin, sleek figure with curves that makes your heart jump , long backs and dressed in turquoise, dressed to kill. Turquoise again and I started to like the couple for their creativity. There was a grey framed mirror that stood right in front of the wall so huge, mounted on a black stand. For a moment I felt like I can walk right through it into a wonderland, a Narnia of my own, A Hogwarts where I study.
The whole room was dressed in black and gray with blue light. And looked like a fantasy land itself. Bravo dude bravo, I admired. There is no place else I would rather be.

Right next to the chairs was a trolley equipped with ink, lot of tissues and a machine that will be used to dig in, dig in my body .The girl used to refer to the process as digging in that made me sure she is good at what she does. How many girls pick a needle and dig in people’s body with blood coming out and still enjoy it?  On the top of the trolley were some design kept that we had spoken about earlier. I had in mind what I was about to get but had apprehensions about some parts of it. There was a design I found in the pile which immediately caught my imagination, exactly what I wanted. I did not tell the girl that I had decided on the design but decided to play for some time to read her thoughts. After all it was all good business, she gives me my masterpiece and I give her mullah. Sounds fair Hun!!

A Moment of Impulse

‘So Sourabh it’s the D Day’ she said as she walked in and I came back from my dream world. ‘Hey Aditi, after years of contemplating it has finally arrived’ was my answer. She replied ‘Tattoos are always impulsive’ and she had the confident look on her face which told me she read my thoughts before I could read hers, or was it just experience speaking? We pondered over different designs which were pretty similar to what I told her but then settled on the one that mesmerized me at its first sight. I always knew you will pick this; she smiled as she said and at that moment I wanted to say ‘Yes Tattoos are impulsive’. After all nothing has changed over years,  I always had a hazy picture in mind of what I want but one fine day I decided I will just get it, and in a moment my design was final too, Yes it was impulsive and being impulsive is fun.
Suddenly she said I can’t make your Tattoo with your T on. A jolt and that is how I came back this time. Lately I have explored shapes other than round. Someone once said, if a person is in IT for more than three years and he does not have a belly like a women at least 5 months pregnant get his background checked, he is fake. And here I stand, 5+ years on the chair in front of a monitor and still in shape. I was shy but not embarrassed. I decided to strip alone though and asked for the washroom. It was a place you would want to shower with a beauty. Stone black walls with granite and black apparels punctuating its beauty. It was huge and divided by a glass wall. Blue light spread across like moon light coming through a clear ocean. On the other side there was a tripod with a beautiful camera kept over it. With my love to be behind the lens and capture the beauty I took a moment to admire the beautiful machine. Cannon: delighting you always, someday I will have one too. Right now there was a bigger fish to fry. I took off my T, my black T and suddenly I realized, I was dressed in black and blue, I was a part of the prop

It paid Off

I looked at my self in the huge mirror right in front of me and with Rudrakhs hanging down my neck I looked ready to go out and be at peace with my body. I walked out bare chest and stood, suddenly shy again. After all she was a beautiful girl and I stand there half naked. I was nervous and I am sure it was visible on my face. Did she read it? I don’t know, but then like a true professional she walked towards me touched my hand and signaled me to step in front of the mirror, the passage to wonderland. She then explained me the after care and one was, I can see you work out which you cannot do for a month. From being shy I was proud, after all it paid off. We talked about where I want the tattoo and she touched me to make sure she was bang on target

The process starts and a Moment of Doubt

The naïve touch set us both free. We forgot we were from two different planets, Venus and Mars. Since then she was an artist and I was her canvas.
She traced the design on my back and the usual me came back. I did not like the placement at the first go and wanted it to be placed right at the centre of my body. But then like she will do for next couple of hours she immediately punished me. Her guy who by then I knew was a fashion photographer was busy in a shoot downstairs. I decided not to let her hesitantly offer me to wash my back, and volunteered before she could say anything. I went in and smiled again as I looked at the camera. I used the mirror placed on the wall to make my hands reach places, which looked like I had invented fusions between yoga and aerobics. The struggle ended after few minutes and the mission was accomplished. I had cleaned it up, which I do so well. I beamed with proud and went out again. This time I was not happy with the symmetry and asked her to make the wings more symmetrical. Without saying a word I walked in the washroom to do my fusion and she got busy in making the changes.
I excelled yet again and came out, by the time she was finished with her changes. I asked with empathy; hope I am not much of a pain? She smiled and assured, it has to be perfect for you, you will carry it on your body. This set me free. Third time it was a success. Try and if you fail try again, I thought.

She asked me to sit. And I sat on the chair with my back facing her and me holding the curves of the long back beauties. At that moment when she was setting her gun and filling her ink she showed me the needles all sealed pack. At that brink of moment I was hit by questions that felt like arrows fired by the soldier of Sparta: Is this the Right Time? Right Design? Right Place? Right Artist? Right Decision?
Being Impulsive was not fun anymore.

The Digging:

I was too engrossed with the questions when the voice brought me back again. Ready? And all I could say in a moment of impulse was a Yes!! The needles were set loose on my body and the pain brought back memories of the Hepatitis vaccination that was given in school when I was in my 12th. It took two of my concerned friends to drag me to the vaccination room cause I was planning to give it a miss. Don’t judge me now, I have taken many stitches on my body but then Injections had a way of scaring me.
I held the chair tighter as the digging commenced. She like an artist, master at her trade worked on the outline once and then twice. As my body was revisited at the same place twice by the needles the pain increased and I held the chair tighter. All this while like all doctors do, she kept talking to me and soon we both realized we have started liking each others company. We spoke about our passion and the choices we made. How I wanted to be fighter pilot and now aspire to be in ad world, like every IT person, who has an alternate career in mind where he will escape to. How she slogged for years in corporate world too before picking up what she loves doing. Being an artist with bodies as her canvas. If she can do it so can I, I thought. We joked along and once she punched me ruthlessly in my ribs. Her touch showed that just like me she was comfortable too in my presence. From just good business it had turned into a fun affair.
After two hours of digging she gave me a break which my body was craving for. I got up to fill my system with some nicotine but first went straight to the mirror to take a look at the piece. The outline was done and I suddenly fell in love with it. I looked at the girl and for the first time appreciated, not in my thought but out loud. The plethora of series that had caught my imagination right from the moment I parked my car burst out. Girl you have a fan in making and this time she smiled and blushed. Appreciation is what every living craves for; I thought which I am sure someone must have already patented, Shakespeare or Lincon, Lenon or some Joe Dickinson, Who cares…
By then the guy walked in taking a break from his shoot. Despite being on separate floors the cosmos conspired them to take a break at the same time. They had a connection and it was crystal clear to even the blind by now. They shared a moment of love while I smoked. The guy looked at the work done till now and gave his opinion to his lady. How does it look? I asked and a Good was all I got from the guy. Till then I could see he was lowering his guard after noticing how comfortable his girl was doing her job on me. He walked back to his shoot and we went back, back to being an artist and a canvas.
It was the details that were to be done this time. The body details. An hour passed by quickly and quietly with less pain, me recovering from the pain rooted deep by the outlines as she was busy with the detailing.
After an hour we took a break again and the cosmos conspired again. This time the guy walked in with a bottle of best selling whiskey of bourbon – Jim Beam. His glass half fill with gold color looking spirit. He could see the pain on my face and said, take some if she allows. Your are not suppose to drink or dope as that makes your blood thinner and you bleed more and it pains more, but after all this pain who cares. We both looked at the girl with a smile and she was smart enough to understand, it’s a guy thing. She smiled back and the guy immediately poured some for me and said enjoy the taste. I could see that the guards were gone and he was a part of the play too. He walked out and I stood again to enjoy the fine malt with a cigarette. She got up to stretch herself and could not help asking, You like pain? I looked at her. I can never recall what expressions and thoughts I had. She said it’s been more than 3 hours and not once has your muscle moved, you did not even flinch once. I could not think of anything but to look at her.
We shared a moment of silence, by then I was done with my cigarette and we went back again in the trance.

The Pain

As she started she said, don’t stop me now. How was I to know that her question earlier and this together was placed strategically. To be asked at the right moment, not a moment later, not a moment earlier. I was sure she had different ways to connect to her canvas and get them ready for the real pain.
She started the shading part and it involved seven needles unlike other times when only three were used. She kept telling me about the finer details about the art and how the machine which I thought had a trigger was actually run by a pedal governed by the feet. It was good to know the finer details as I put them in my curious mind. Another thing I know off and so much more to know. So the seven needles like seven dwarfs started spreading their magic. It was the most painful phase in the whole process. She asked me to hold on for some more time, we are almost there, and still kept digging. After another hour of agonizing pain and parts of my body already touched twice revisited again, the digging stopped. The pain had taken over and cocooned my brain into a trance. It was broken when I felt a cool breeze on my body. I guess she fell in love with the piece she just created and gave her a soothing cover by her breath. She asked me, is it relaxing? A question she already knew the answer for. I choose not to say anything and lay my head on the top of the chair. Yes I loved it, it was soothing and arousing too my mind screamed. It felt like my head relaxed on a beautiful shoulder which my hands held tightly. It was again her time to do some leg pulling, don’t worry I am not telling anyone you cried. Like lightning my ego took over the pain and I got up and said, lets see what mess have you created. We both burst out laughing and walked towards the mirror. She called her guy with the camera and he clicked me as I admired my piece of art. This time he could not hold back ‘It looks great’, he said.
She bandaged me and money exchanged hands. She like an innocent child handed it over to the guy and he counted. We shook hands and I and the girl looked in each others eye. We both had the sense of satisfaction. We both praised each other for a job well done. She being a great artist and me being a good canvas.
I started walking only to turn and compliment the guy, ‘Your place is amazing, you got good taste’ and he gave me the warm smile, finally. We shook hands again and he said ‘take care bro’ I walked out even more satisfied as I managed to take his guards completely off and make him comfortable, comfortable of his lady's presence with me. I have always liked when people are comfortable around me.
As I walked to my car the girl's words hit my mind which I might have ignored earlier because of the pain "Tattoo are addictive,Beware".  It’s good to have a piece of art, an extension to the body, being a canvas. As I sat in the car I was sure, I will visit this trance this pain again.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Dreams..



I do believe in the reality of my dreams,
Though sometimes but I can hear the silent screams
Its only when the noise around you gets too loud
The divine voice inside speaks to you,
Clears the haze and comes out of the shadow of doubts

I do believe in the truthfulness of my imagination
It’s the subconscious reality gone wild
It mighty be ugly, it still is my child….

Friday, October 9, 2009

Corridor of Uncertainty



Corridor of uncertainty is where I roam
Lost in this wilderness
I make sand castles with glass dome
It was all so beautiful
It had the glory of old Rome

Then one splash of cruel wave
One small moment of uncontrolled rage
Brought it all tumbling down
Burning, then ashes and to the ground

I was standing there
I saw the carnage with my own eyes
The cold blooded murder
Then the comforting lies
I saw it all
From tearless cries
To the people who thought they were wise

Corridor of uncertainty is where I am
Broken and starved
With everlasting ink it has been carved …
I am searching for some light
Hoping to take one step that is right !!

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

***Story of Today***


A dagger through my heart, Today
Set me free
I resisted for initial few blows
Now I am going to let it be..


A bullet hit me today,
Came through a deep dark hole
Left my body, pierced my soul..
I could have died first
But I choose to roll


From all directions, arrows came flying,
In a moment spectators saw me dying..
I can see no tears,
I notice no one is crying..
They say life flashes by your eyes,
All I felt were lashes
All I could hear were lies..


A mystery was uncovered today
I begged, tried and cried through out the day
They wanted blood,
So they choose me to slay...
There goes the soul now
High up there, Into the hole..
Clutched in a claw,
With enough blood for u to draw..
That’s how the story goes, Story of Today

Circumstances out of my hand!!






Circumstances out of my hands
Can nothing be done?
Somebody writes the script of my life
Can I not have a say?
My happiness decided by someone
Can I not choose my own way?
What is good what is bad?
Am I sane or am I mad
Can I not decide on my own?
I might choose it wrong
I might fall and burn
But then I want the satisfaction of deciding my own fate

Monday, October 5, 2009

Oh Lady!!



Oh Lady!
The child in you that giggles
Your moods with which you fiddle
To me you seem to be riddle
Oh Lady!
Your innocence and your arrogance
Your deafening silence 
Your laugh that soothes
Oozing sweetness then deaf you become
Sometimes aloof sometimes so demanding
Oh Lady!
Can you hear the words that I will never say
Can you feel the love that I will never show
Do you know you can be loved?
Your place is with the doves
Oh sweet child!
Like an angel I will treat
No matter what I will never retreat
These vows I will repeat
Oh lady! Oh love!  

A Familiar Territory!!


I see myself wandering around

In a complete new territory

Seems like grieving is mandatory

Happiness is a distant dream

Looks like its going to be a long dark night

With no hope and no guiding light

It is all pitch black with no respite

There is nothing left to call wrong or right

No one here is proud

Proud of their glory or might

Lost in wilderness

Everyone is looking for a compassionate hand

I have seen worse

It does not scare me anymore

Cause this is a familiar territory

It might be unnerving

Not enough to rattle

I have fought even fierce battles

A devil in disguise

This scenario comes to me as a respite

A familiar territory

Where I am bound by fate

I don’t like being here but not necessarily hate