Showing posts from May, 2011

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New countries at every street corner


A sentence on the state of affairs

Alike the clear azure skies, I would love to have a hue of cerulean  and be free from all the clutters to have a clean view of the inner-outer  atmosphere, and to take a firm stand on things I like and things  I don’t like, but I always find that as in the impossibility of the sky  to remain as blue as ever — sometimes just gloomily overcast that  it is and sometimes the torrential rain that it becomes — my mind  wanders in the rhythm of the ever changing shapes of the cloud,  though I mean it from its superficial appearance; and it’s a conviction  that every day, come rain or shine, I’ll be building up a life accentuated  with some essence that I hope will give me unasked inspiration to  keep moving forward, even though the sheer absurdities that are  attached to the psyche, make my living amusing and equally deadening  at times, which again offer ample food for thought on our existence,  yet it matters less in the diurnal lives for it does not matter at the end  of the day how much we are fed and…

A short monologue on the rational motives for owning a land


Interrogation points

How would I cry for the moon,
when I had been taught its uselessness
and the rationality of war,
and the utility of material possession
and the futility of making dreams my master?
But it was made to appear
As if I was longing for the sun in the midnight

Though I yearn for the shining face
the full moon to illuminate our shadows
Alas, the shadows grow longer in front of us,
while we stood facing the faint moon,
and its eclipse too—
its invisibility to exert forcefully
that the divide between you and I was lost in the shadow
that the broken bridge was visible no more
that we could make a new road with poetry

The believers of freedom yelled it’s essential
to put the heads in derangement,
to invoke the noises that kill our sanity
to lead the people to prosperity,
while they disguised themselves
as nonbelievers. And we laugh heartily
Without any questions.
And the keepers are there
watching, like us, while looting us
And us, we have to make our ways in this darkness.

How would it be if we can have

On telling the tales of tattoos

When we were growing up, in our preteen period and during our teenage days, we saw many tattoos all across the place, across the arms and shoulders that we came upon, and to put it bluntly, we were simply amazed — after finding how those guys had got them — how they can tolerate such pain to have a small flying lizard on their body parts. Show us a tattoo and we can tell the era it belongs to, if not the history of the person. In those days, tattoos were about the crosses and the bones and the skulls and the dragons and the scorpions and what not. The most distinctive features were the stains of dry cells and immaculate yet raw needle marks.

Unsurprisingly, our interest was directly proportional to the ire of the elder folks, who equated this kind of act as much macabre and inauspicious as inviting the unholy gods, or the devils in popular fancy, into our lives. Then I was annoyed by their authority that they could impose on us by virtue of their age alone, now I have some understan…

your love makes me

your love makes me your love makes me love you more it makes me sleep glad keep away those aches it makes me awake from bad dreams it makes me a sheik of your love it makes me remake torn pieces of our life
your love makes me true it takes me to daybreak from the night of solitude shake away take away the blues your love makes me love you more and more

From a flying fish

Like a lonely fish
in the limitless ocean
am I feeling
in a vast human sea
On a speck of dust
in an Brobdingnagian creation,
Of too many birth and death
on this speck of dust.

As in the fish tries
to break free of the water;
unnatural it is, but
ever I long to get rid of all,
and breathe the other airs
that I have never inspired.
It is unfortunate:
on the dingy seabed
of local and global dumps ;
On the mid-water level
where life is about
plundering as much as we can
and stealing
and snatching as much as we can.
I’m bloody fed up of justifying myself our acts;
And on the surface of the water,
watch the superficial relationship between us
as if we love each other
as if we don’t love violence
as if we are so many thing,
when we are just animals.

Ah! Water, water, everywhere
Its density, its volume ever increasing
Let me go
Let me get out of this water
Let me remain an animal
But let me just afloat
and soar away to the limitless sky.

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