Cunningness in men I see

Everywhere I go
Cunningness in men I see
Hurt by their selfish intentions
Bruised by their vilified actions
Their words stinks of motives and
Hearts filled with fake pretentions

Hidden behind flowery words
Buried beneath measured smiles
They hide their daggers and lies
They are enemies in disguise

I wonder if at night they feel guilty
I wonder if 'shame' exists in their mind
Give 'em an inch they snatch a mile
Still a frowning face you get everytime.

Guest Post 'Woman' By Priya

She is thrown out, as a piece of paper;
once a beautiful handcrafted piece
carved with love and happiness.

She is thrown out, as a piece of thread;
once woven with silk
to bring the beauty of hers.

She is thrown out, as a piece of wood;
Once bathed with sandal
to enjoy the love of lust.

She is thrown out, as a piece of flesh;
once tangled with silent cries
and a petal full of dreams.

She is thrown out, as a piece of woman;
once reflected and admired
by the man she loved.

-By Priya

Guest Post... 'The Doll' By Nikita Gupta

You are my doll,

Her grandfather said

As he kissed her cheek

And stroked her head.

She was his joy,

His object of affection.

He pampered her silly,

And loved her like none.

And as night came,

So did he,

Into her room

Where she lay asleep.

He touched her sweet, glowing face,

He held her body close to his

And then peeled off layers of clothing,

Standing in the way of carnal bliss.

Her naked flesh ignited desire,

He feasted his eyes on the heavenly sight.

Gently kissed her head to toe,

And then loved her through the night.

At eight, she was his favourite game-

A compliant companion to play with in bed.

Well, it's true, she was his doll,

Just like her loving grandfather said.

The poem is written by fellow blogger and psychologist-in-the-making Nikita Gupta. This is the poem written by her 6 years ago. Find this poem here on her blog. Check out her blog here.

Guest Post... 'Longing' by Priya

Now, I no more hear or see the prints,

Its an empty bowl with not trace;

Then, it was trees filled with fruits,

Riped to taste the flavor all over the lips.

Now, the music is sad with unknown,

Left in lurch searching to drink;

Then, the room was filled aloud,

tapping the floors mystical rhyme;

Now, she sits alone close to the window,

As her hair lifts by the wind;

Then, she draped all beautiful and glitter,

To touch the rosy petals waiting to dip;

Now and then,

Time flies at day and night;

She never asks why,

And only the unknown knows.

The above poem is by very talented poet Priya. Her popular journal of poems is here. Priya's other blog is here. Both the blogs are highly recommended.


p.s painting by Raja Ravi Varma.

Lost Childhood 2: The Little Boy

i turned around from the 'beer shop'

unsatisfied with the pics clicked

i saw a sight and took some time

to comprehend the gravity of it

a young boy hardly a pre-teen

sat there in middle of busy crowd

collecting beer bottles in a rucksack

a sight so common you wouldn't even care

but his 'work' caught my attention

sat there he, collecting empty bottles

but also collected the last few sips

from each bottle left by the drinker

and emptied them into a single bottle

then quenched his thirst with the cocktail

half filled bottle like trophy he claimed

who's to blame for street urchin's state?

you or me? society or the shop-owner?

useless governments or high decibel NGO's?

a billion people can take the blame, but

who's to take the first step to stop him

will it be you or will it be me?

Lost Childhood 1: The Little Girl

just another end of frantic day

waiting at a over-cramped bus-stop

i darted at a near-by beer shop

to capture some engrossing snaps

but then she came like an angel

smiling, giggling, with a bruised face

i smiled back and asked her to pose

took some snaps to her bewilderment!

she looked at me with so much awe

her eyes told me she didn't had enough

i prepared to move beyond past her

her lips almost parted to say something

i could read it in her eyes~ an emotion

all she wanted to say was 'bhaiyya' (brother)

i didn't stop lest tears flow from our eyes

she disappeared in a blink of an eye

and our relationship met it's final fate

i moved towards the 'wine and beer shop'

the smell of various liquors intrigued me

the intoxicated and the sober stood in line

when a tall black guy tapped me at my back

with a big grin and sugar coated sweet words

asked me if i was looking for 'something'

perplexed i shook my head, puzzled

he pointed at 'the little girl' in corner

asked me if i was single or with friends

did i have a place or i wanted his?

at reasonable price he could give anything

i looked at the terrified girl's warm eyes

i could see in them her father was the pimp

Part 2 of this poem will be updated soon. the title of which is~

Lost Childhood 2: The Little Boy

Kindly go through this article. I read it in the Tehelka magazine. It's worth giving your time and mind. The article is about The Oberoi Brothers.

"Kaushik ek din teri achchai tjhe le doobegi"

"Kaushik one day your goodness will drown you"

-A very wise man who knows me and is known by the name of Gautam Dhameja.

WARNING: The following post contains convoluted self-analysis.. it is a cruel dissection with no rona-gaana about wicked fate and evil people. You may waste your time reading this as i am wasting time writing it! ;) okkk that last line i was just kidding!

As I rushed to meet my friend Gautam in Noida for a urgent crisis for which the clock was ticking faster than Bolt runs his sprints. I tried to be a good samartian and helped a passer-by in which as usual i made a fool of myself. (don't investigate further details its my blog and i ain't gonna tell :) )

I narrated the incident to Dhameja and he offered me the golden words of wisdom-

"Kaushik ek din teri achchai tjhe le doobegi"

Then a thought process complicated than a chain reaction and more explosive than the anti-matter ( just finished Angels and Demons) started in my head. It's proven beyond doubt that the "seedha-saadha" Parv Kaushik has always suffered in the face of "tez-tarrar" people. People often tend to confuse kindness with weakness ( yes i stole it from Swordfish when John Travolta says it to Hugh Jackman)

The seedha-saadha aadmi (SSA- THE SPECIES I CONSIDER I BELONG TO) is almost extinct now. It does not even figures in the endangered species list. Probably SSA is going to be in the next issue of 'Lost Species Of 21st century'. The characteristics of the SSA species are as follows:

1. These species carry a malfunctioning hereditary DNA of imaandaari "honesty" in them.

2. They are genuinely nice to everybody and fail to prioritize their behaviour in relation to the returns expected from other members of other species. (I call it 'selective affability')

3. These species as predicted by Gautam Buddha speak the truth and live the condemned life. They walk on the path of the truth and pay for it- Buddha.

4.They can easily be trapped and fooled once you present a rosy picture and behave nicely. SSA's are easily trusting hence the annihilation of the species.

5. Docile species rarely reacts even when it sees it is being harmed. People often see it as SSA's foolishness. ( which I'm afraid we are - foolish)

6.Will always fail in business bcuz thy will be too shy to ask for their own money.

etc. etc. etc.

Since I'm currently reading "The Curious Case Of Dog In The Night-time" by Mark Haddon let me analyse my kryptonite (seedhapan) the way the lead character Christopher would. Let me like Kaavya Vishwanathan's Opel Mehta chalk out steps to end my kryptonite and enter into the skin of normal human species to survive.....

WAIT.. WAIT.. WAIT..

DO I REALLY WANT TO?

Let me get this straight. I touch my heart and i ask myself... If I want to change? Can i change? I think the world is full of smart and over-smart people. It's OK being a fool. It's OK to trust people even when you know they don't deserve it. Trusting is important, people are not. A clean heart and a clean conscience is all i have and perhaps all i need. I look around at the insanity around me lifestyle addiction, politics, jealously, hatred, anger. I'm happy being a kid in adults world.

Yes I'm an SSA but yes i can say with my held held high that there ain't no person whom i cannot look into the eyes. Believe me I can. I did commit mistakes i did disappoint people but in my heart i know I'm pure. Let me suffer it's OK but somewhere deep down inside i know when Dhameja sleeps tonight he'll know they are still nice people around. There are people ain't mad after money, sex, power, fame.

I don't know how many would have left before reading and comprehending any of this stuff. At last i don't think i can change. Its a handicap may be. But if you ask my heart I'll happily renounce the material world for a clear conscience before i die if that's the price for it. May be I'll survive in this jungle may be i wont but i want to sleep tonight peacefully.

GB Road- The Sin Road

A night I was in New Delhi

A night alone with street lights

With heavy traffic and begging lunatics.

New Delhi Railway Station- My destination

Standing alone at "Ajmeri Gate Side"

Lightning up my cigarette to kill time

A full 3 hours to board my train

Alone with a thousand thoughts stranded.  

I decided to take a walk

A walk to a destination most infamous

Whose trail was learned from a friend.

With empty mind and no desires

I risked the custom and my reputation

Character after all is a cage.

GB Road was the disgraced address

Delhi's home to pimps and whores.

I walked a walk a lonely walk

Knowing not what to expect.

What would be it like to take a walk

Through the sin road of sinister souls

Would I lose my rational mind?

Would i forgo my repute and character?

And yield to the bodily temptations?

I had to find out, I had to go.

Through the traffic I made my way

Walking slowly, consciously to my destination

I knew I was on the right path.

For I saw girls - faces covered with cloth

In the rickshaws, on the bike's backseat

Faceless anonymous bodies cruising through.

Old lurid & rickety structure welcomed me

There I was in plenitude of dissolution

My heart beated albeit slowly, heavily.

As if to make a complete mockery of law

A police station right across the street.

'Plum Posting' it must be, I said to me.

A feeling of pervasive suffocation enveloped me

Behind the shady windows of buildings stood Whores 

"Whores" I said to myself in shock and rant

"Whores" with little more than their bras on them

Stood behind the heavy iron grills of the windows

Signalling me, Gesturing me, pinpointing me, to come

"Whores" behind their 'grills' -euphemism for jail bars

"Whores" ready to sell their body for anyone & everyone

And then my eyes locked upon a window

A 12 yr old or so little girl gesturing me.

A spectacular human tragedy of which

I was the audience with front row seats.

Suffocation filled me, I couldn't breathe

I needed to get outta there else i vomit.

Rebellion and Revolt struck my mind

Little mind of me unable to comprehend

Unable to decipher the question 'Why?'

Never had I imagined such a painful sight,

I wanted to scream, wail and cry all night

I was helpless and hopeless that night.  

The Question Is 'Why?'

photo: on the left is OSHO in his younger years on the right hand is me.

Why friends always change,

While enemies remain same?

Why love perpetually fluctuates,

While hate remains eternal?

Why happy memories evaporate

While the sad ones crystallise?

Why innocence hides

While cunning seeks?

Why a single drop of pure water

Can't purify a glass of dirty water?

When a single drop of dirty water

Has power to contaminate the whole?

Why does it take years

To nurture a relationship

While one moment is enough

To break it all apart?

Why is it tedious to accept fault

While easy to pass on the blame?

Why is it so easy to wail on past

While difficult to accept and change?

Two Nomads

Two of us, in the rain

Stood together

As if,

Bonded by tears

Bonded by smears

Enslaved

Confined

Shackled

In this so-called institution

Of marriage

What was love once

Now feels like

Capital Punishment

There's no hate just

Boredom,

Life's no thrill just

Linear Motion

The Hurricane of love

Which took us

Heaven,

The dust of it

Settled

There's no hurricane, just

Whiff.

Stand we two

Overbored

Underamused

In face of each other

Empty

Void

Trivial

Weak

All of the stuff

Too blinded by love

To see, To feel

No contempt though

Just Bored.

Bored by reality

Fascinated once by

Love Illusions 

Nasty Delusions

Oue own Seclusion

But,

Let's begin

Once more

Like we first met

And were struck

By Hurricane.

p.s. just for the record i aint married not even close to the posibility of it any time now... the poem was inspired by a married couple i saw at a multiplex sum time ago, they seemed so bored of each other, so much so that they didnt even feel like talking to one another. i dont know much about what to say, i just know that its a sad thing to happen to anybody.

untitled

untitled my life fades
unheard my voice fetters
lost in millions
costing in penny
untitled my life fades

utopian visions i once had
life has crushed 'em all
sweet dreams now
ugly thorns
life has crushed 'em all.

Unsung Hero

Lonely boulevard greets the unsung hero

Walking alone he accepts the silent applause

His feats had matched that of Gods

His courage made demons tremor

Only heavens witnessed the triumph of his spirit

His story is an epic untold and forgotten

Sky and earth- the mute spectators will recall

How a man once proved himself a MAN

All his glory will just be a memory

Evanescent fairy tale buried in Silence

Lonely boulevard greets the unsung hero

Unhealed wounds scream his grandeur

For once the mighty Sun bowed in respect

Flowers paid homage by blooming his way

The unsung hero of ours accepts his Fate

http://sify.com/news/imagegallery/galleryDetail.php?hcategory=14684615&hgallery=14740539

Cost Of Education

The Ragamuffin boy

Picks up my study book

And attempts

To understand the alphabets

And decipher the figures

Education for him

Is a distant destination

Some fairy land description

Can you feel him?

Such helplessness and

Hopelessness of a destitute

Stripped by destiny

Robbed by fate

Is being poor here

The biggest crime?

His is just another life

Wasted.

above pic taken by me in Sec 18 Noida, the street kid was watching television from the window of a popular eatery.

Disposition

This sadness, this madness
My empty Mind

My ill-disposition

I run, search in vain

The answers

My Mind's transfixed

The tears never come

My eyes remain dry

They bleed inside

Trade my madness

Cure my sadness

Can you?

Wise words, do you know?

My rage, my cage

Whey love feels like hate?

Call me saint

Call me fool

I dont care for your version

I laugh at my misery

I cry at my fortune

I really dont mind me

And you shouldn't too

Leave me here

Alone and confused

Wounded

My scars, my trophies

United i fall

Alone i fly

For your love

It makes me bleed

I realise my lack

Let me dissapear

Dont debate, its too late.

p.s. photo taken by me near the ISKCON temple, Nehru Place New Delhi.

Bubble Of Good Times

You have no idea how hard i've tried
No idea about the number of thorns
I've walked on
This smile of mine is just a facade
No idea you have it hides a fighting rage
I've been walking on the razor's edge
Come closer, touch me, heal me.
I've been running, running in circles
My guiding star seems so hazy
I've seen bubble of good times bursting

Stumbling blocks and iron locks
Invincible peaks, abyss of dark valleys
Known 'em all and known my callous fate
I secede, I Recede, I let go.
Colossol faith in myself -not anymore
Bruises all over I'm in a state of
eternal damnation
Butcher my body Burn my soul
Rhapsody of grief penetrates Whole.

Butterfly Effect

Ari disconnected the call. He couldn't speak further. His voice was choking. This he knew was the last-ever call from Nikita.The conversation was more of a monologue of Nikita than a two-wat communication. Her words passed into his ears as a dagger would pierce his flesh. The phone dropped from his hand and so his world.

His whole world crashed. Not even tears could flow in his eyes. The tears were too minute an expression to the sadnees he had encountered.He now knew what death was.Inside him everything fell silent, not even a thought moved.He had lost the power to think.Something was missing, rather almost everything was missing.She was the only reason he was, she was all his reasons.

He didn't want the whole world, there was no place he'd rather want than a little place in her heart. Just a little. He wanted to faint and wake up and be told that it was a very very bad dream. Unfortunately it was all so real.

Ari's chest turned into a store-house of pain, the infinte source of love had now turned into a pain producing machine. The very cliff feeling, that he was loved- that he was accepted made him feel that he could conquer the world, was gone.

Tears started rolling down his cheeks. Ari was a person who never frowned but now here he was breaking down. He screamed once, twice............. for an hour. Hysterical wails which would have even scared the beasts. A strong sensation of pain filled all the nerves of his brain. It was more maddening than madness. He was madness personified.

He ran towards his closet, unlocked it, only to find the gifts and cards Nikita had presented her. He took the cards and burned them down with his lighter. The cards and letters were his life's most precious possessions, not anymore.He then took out a small statue of two angels hugging each other in a deep moment of love, he flung the statue towards the wall with a strong hand. The statue broke to pieces a million pieces that scattered on the ground.

He was mad or madness was him was anybody's guess. If he could he would have burned the whole world.There was a whirlwind inside his head.It's only a matter of time when every bit and byte of tour "true eternal" love transforms into hate. Ari discovered.

It was a crucification and a resurrection for Ari. He lost all hope. He now knew that losing all hope was freedom . And then...... something happened, he let go. Lost in oblivion-dark and silent and complete , he found freedom.

Its only after we have lost everything that we're free to do anything.

A death turned out to be a rebirth. As if all this has been the birth pangs of a birth of a new child. He wondered if Nikita had even an iota of idea of what he was going through.................






















ok i am too tired now cant write anymore the rest of the stori goes lik this:
ari turns psycho-kills nikita-goes to jail-meets new criminals-joins a gang-rules the underworld-finally gets encountered...... a nice normal guys turned into a mafia.

They call this Butterfly Effect. It says that something as small as a flutter of a butterfly can cause a typhoon in another part of the world.