Showing posts from October, 2010

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The bright light I see in the distance

Gloomy, ever the things are unfortunately Answers if we can find now will be so timely But here we are in these nights of fighting These nights of avarice, these nights of killing.

This obscurity, all the same, is only too long There will be a dawn after the night, no matter if it is prolong Wanted: the guiding powers of consciousness Come on, it can be anyone’s business.

No more the mind, however, will be in manacle As more thoughts find their orifice from the dark debacle Of masters, confrontation, group, and blindness and what not To free expression and valour, which now our lives denote.
As I get ready to make merry of the night’s impending death I see the bright light in the horizon. The joy that we had when we found the thabal chongfam Oh! Those tube-light, you remember that were seen from afar.

Of these nights that keep tolling its dark hours We would howl, “Celebrate, rejoice for one day these will be over, And those fresh imagination, those cheerful mornings of ours, Of new ideas and freedo…



A short study on the individual

We are made and shaped by our environment. Ironic it is, but the same environment made us rebel against the system we have been brought up. Some people assert you have to be in the system to weed out the ‘undesirables’, while others give a damn to this idea and fight with any means that they can employ. Well, our universe is so relative, and the judgment is in the opinion of an individual.
For me, it’s the rejection of these thoughts. In or out, left or right, there is always going to be a conflict. So the best way is to eliminate the concepts -- nationality, religion and tradition – while developing an attitude that conforms to the best in its school of thought. When considering my present living, the credence is more on the fight-from-the-inside group. But sorry, I have done away with your kind of thinking. It has become a way of life to resist and ignore the things that are considered social mores, political things and religious activities. And the process is going on.
On introspecti…

Someone just said time is money!


The standing spot

I go to a familiar spot every day from where I travel to the place, where I get my rice and dals and vegetables and meats and whiskies; these things that I bargain with the objects that I’ve learnt to create,

The smells of a diligent workforce and machines and strangers and politics and money and arrogance… mark my destination: it’s another place, another sea of humanity and another different, ever-changing environment;

This morning, I was caught unaware as the Spot smiles at me—a simple smirk that makes me so consciously close to it as if we had known each other, even before the land dealers have robbed the land in the name of some Moreh-elastic ideologies and in the name of revolution and in the name of the people!

Grinning and in a friendly way, it said: “You come here day in and day out. I see you standing here as the blistering Sun laughs at you and the Rain—crooked and erratic as it can be—would occasionally greet you with its dull expression and the sullied Air that sympathi…



News news news

Why do we have to keep complaining about the mainstream media ignoring the frontier areas? there's no business out there -- well, from the profit point of view -- it is simple as that! and who on hell would sacrifice his ass and print some stories on thugs boycotting their independence day celebration?

on the other hand, we see very day, every faggots every bastards every fucking individual, conforming to the social mores; bloody assholes, you pay 15 lacs for a mere fucking government job that eventually leads you to kill people, while the supervisors lie naked happily and satisfactorily by their mistresses' side?

why do you fucking complain we have no space, that they don't provide us rooms. it's only us who can decide our future...

when the gunmen killed the old timer when the mercenaries loot the exchequer when the nationalists do the land a favour when protest becomes the occupation of the teacher and the doctor and the engineer and the student and every commoner when…


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Second thoughts

A fleeting stream of consciousness
What is there we have to lose in this emptiness,
When nothing is left in the barren terrain,
everything is spoiled with the paucity of ideas.
The gun, the blood, the lust, the avarice, the drugs,
the stinking resilience bind the consciousness.
The supermen and jungle warriors
of fucking politics and lousy economics;
The marching bands
of gun-toting spin doctors have razed
the reluctant sprouts in the jam,
the matériel of messy legit masters
merely miff the mob and trigger mayhem.
Old men lie bleeding
with syringes and guns and debts
whilst antsy mothers cried for their lost kids.
The lost kids burgeon
in the labyrinth
of pesky geography and nagging history,
consume in the theatre of the absurd.
Casting the vote for the tricksters in each ghetto,
paying off the elected tricksters
to bring a smile on their wives' puckered visage.
And in a flash
they lie bleeding
with the syringes and the guns and the debts.
Fight for the freedom
whilst …

Masthead models

Of late, there have been problems in uploading the images. The Blogger says it's a 'known issue', whatever it means. Regarding the images, we were asked to use the old featureless setting. But I'm glad it has been fixed and I can upload them today using the upgraded Editor. What's more interesting is that I can access the new Design option now. There are some interesting templates and layouts -- with several tools to customise the pages -- that are making me impatient. I want to try each one of them! Well, I'd rather maintain some consistency than using my blog like a rough book. |But as I was scribbling this post, I have altered the masthead around ten times and the layout/template/customisation twice as much... :| And here's some of the latest presentations!

I found the more portrait an image is, the better and proportionately, it sits on the page. The above elongated image covers the entire portion of the page when used as a masthead, while the same…

Primitive Delight

Among the bushes, Lies the serpent On its back we crawl Like a snake we slid The earth descends upon the sky The pinnacle among the clouds The bitter breeze keeps calling, Comforts of the mundane life, When the soul was lost in the distance.
Nature's wealth abound in the hills; The narrow roads, twisting and turns Mount's unremembered splendours Beside deep gorges scaling down, Taking the heart into the depth.


The Accidental Anarchist

This essay has been paraphrased from Encyclopaedia Britannica’s Anarchism: A Collection of Revolutionary Writings by Peter Kropotkin. This way, I hope, I would understand the finer nuances of anarchist thoughts while editing the atrociously-composed article!
Check the original text

The headline is inspired by The Accidental Death of an Anarchist by Dario Fo, the Italian Nobel laureate


Anarchism is derived from two German words -- ‘an’ and ‘archos’ -- which literally mean, contrary or opposed to authority. That free agreements between the people, independently constituted for the sake of production and consumption can form a society is one of the major tenets of this thought. A society can be conceived without government; and, the voluntary associations to meet the needs and aspirations of a civilized being are more significant than the state.

How can such an affiliation execute its obligation? It would be an extension of the individuals to substitute themselves for the stat…

Recreation of the World

There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
John Lennon  

Before the popularisation of blogging in the late Nineties, the world had seen several forms of writing. I had used Yahoo Messenger, mIRC and Orkut when Facebook arrived on the scene to make them look stupid. The postal service had a long history that when compared, it is an old man of one hundred years, to Email and Gmail that are new-born babies. So the question is whether our world is a laboratory for recreation. In retrospection, the world is seemingly whirling around a circle, albeit without a deliberation on its origin and reason. I have welcomed these ideas as, in addition to the above areas in communication technology, we have also been coming across new forms and shapes of any entity so often. It is not essential that it was created ‘originally’ and that it was made for the first time. To make the idea animate, it is initially hatched from experience, it is nurtured, and it grows to sustain itself. Citing…

Musical Muse

A life without music is just like an underwear without elastic



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