Saturday, December 5, 2009

The Animal Instinct

Less than 12 hours to go before I step into the hall that will decide the fate of thousands and let the fate of others waiting. I on the other hand will be taking a walk in the park only facing screen just like this one. In other words, I will be giving my CAT exam. Amidst the terror and madness and hysteria and a slight throat infection, I think I'll make a good example of myself. I think I'm nervous about an upcoming VJ Hunt more than this exam...

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Coming Undone

I think I'm done with this process of keeping up with the world.
I'm done with chatting and browsing and pornography and food.
I'm done running in circles and chasing in tales.
I'm done with excuses and delays and helplessness

So I let go of the hose that be my intoxicator
And breathe the fumes of the ceremonial scent
I'll be back one day proud of myself
And till then I won't keep checking on you all

I must take a plunge yet I dont have a chute
Instead I'm sipping tea with some brute
I let go of the strings and grab a cue
To bring out the old and absorb the new

Adieu Au revoir, which be the better
Start something new, its now or never
Explore dont excel and forget innovation
All I need to get is a sound revelation...

Friday, October 16, 2009

In the days of Autumn...

In the days of Autumn...
I was tired a little at first
But I saw my 2 tires
then I tried a lot
and was tried a lot.

At the end, we had you...
Take one down and pass it around
150 Bundles of Pecmag on the wall
150 Bundles of Pecmag


Thursday, October 15, 2009

From a Pakistani To a Pakistani

Yeh jo halka halka suroor hai
Yeh teri nazar ka kusoor hai
Ki sharaab peena sikha diya
Ki sharab peena sikha diya

Sharab ne duboe laakhon ke dil
Sharab ne kiya na kuch haasil
Bas ek lamha bitaya uski aankhon mein
Jab humne chua tha uske gaal ka til

Helter Skelter

On an empty road his auto raced a bike that had a couple having the time of their life. The girl’s t-shirt ridden up to let loose the little bit of acceptable modesty as she hugged her driver with stretched arms. Our lover's heart was having a race too but for brief moments. It is the point when he would be carried away to the misty swamps of silence and galaxies of possibilities. After screeching the breadwinning contraption to a halt, his auto driver took a look outside to the striped shirted bicycle man, then to a waiting biker and rubbed his palms to enjoy some guthka. The hallucinating red brake lights of the cars fell like a glow on him. The ears were plugged in and he was lost in the waters of Porcupine Tree. Back on the road, his auto plunged him into the springs of his seat. Everything seemed to be zooming by, hundreds of people on the streets whom he’ll never get to know, buildings he will never visit, bumps he will never endure, lights that he will never stare at for hours.

He looked out of his vista and saw a wedding procession take place, he always hated the idea of weddings, especially since the moment he saw eunuchs parading and dancing on one of his friends weddings. He thought about his marriage, dressed outrageously, dancing silly, smiling deliberately. Men in tight boots and worn out suits waking behind his horse, dancing aimlessly and throwing their notes in the air while little hungry kids scamper after them to get their daily bread. Lights and sounds of holy matrimony could not displease him enough. His bubble burst at another screeching halt at a traffic light. Another couple on the bike but this one seemed to be tired with their adventures and looked too big to be on a bike. She carried a bag full of onions, he was hanging a bag of tomatoes on his arm. Sitting in the auto,this lover couldn’t really get a look of their faces but imagined them as dull, stern and maybe confused. Confused as to where did they go wrong, whose fault was it, what happens now?

He looked up and his auto was moving again, this time much with a little urgency. Unfamiliar paths always intrigued him and his search for new paths was always inexhaustible. Beaming lights hit his face as he stared into the dark lands and lone lights. Hindi slogans were on the walls of support and help, some corners seemed to be darker than the others but then they ended. Green grass was now sprawled across his vision and then came lights, facing upward they were, hailing the monument that seemed to gain the respect and salute of each being by just standing there motionless in the night and all through the day. Maybe there were better things to do maybe there was a plan, did he have one? He remembered what he had bought an hour back, they were gifts for someone. Someone who had lost a lot and lost some more, he wished to give something back and give something more. He smiled a little and then looked at opportunities, hopes, dreams and then he looked at his driver. They will never meet again unless they exchange numbers which he didn’t intend on doing. The smell of jasmine then came to his senses and saw an old lady selling them on the road beside. She might like them in her hair, or she might not. Did he even know her that well? Making a mental note, he let the smell of jasmine pass by, only to be disturbed by the stench of the wreaking gutters of filth and birth.

He was almost at the end of this auto ride and he never really remembered anything from these rides. They are but another slideshow of his heroes, villains, achievements, failures, joy and pain. He did not need anything else right now, he just wanted to sense it all. At his rendezvous point, he lifted his bag, paid the man who didn’t seem grateful just cracked his fingers to show some gratitude and left. He was now on his own and so he walked into the sea of people, for he is just another face that will never be seen heard or known by hundreds.

Monday, September 14, 2009

A Coat for a gift

Come inside my coat,I will keep you warm
Keep your rings in the pocket
And wrap yourself around my arm.
I will take you to the zoo
And show you little monkeys
Steal a bird and keep them too.
In the realms of my coat it gets dark
I will pluck a star and hang it by
So you may never stop your homework
If you ever be hungry don't clutch your tummy
My coat has warm bread and hot milk
And I will slice the edges just like mummy
Lay your head on my chest and take a nap
Close your eyes and I will sing
A tale of kings as I pat my lap
And when you are old and big
You will leave the coat and step out
It is then I will feel the hole in me
grow bigger as you face the cruel world
I will drop a tear and snort my nose
But hope you will be safe and happy out there
If you ever miss the coat, do come by
I may not be around but it shall be hanging
Alone and empty but alive with its memories
But for now I pat you as I sing you to sleep
In the coat of warmth, the coat of dreams.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Good Night and Good Luck


I welcome you to the few 4 who carried me from the hot summers in May to the cold winters in the auto.

They sang a song once, I listened and I nanaaad to it.

A day will come when they all will be gone, and just incase I'm not blogging then;

I made a cake for them once but they were too high on LSD that time to have some. I called Jude, he asked me to make it better. I wasn't very good at baking good cakes so I added a little Norwegian Wood to it. I looked over my shoulder at them and I admired their simplicity in the midst of the madness they had created. Like school kids who had just come from an hour of play ball. Lying in a heap, they stared at the ceiling for hours. John wasn't wearing his glasses, he had something clutched in his hand, a letter from Eleanor Rigby. Paul on the other hand kept saying that he needed help. George had once played the sitar with me beside the sea, he never did say much these days. Calling Ringo yesterday for tea was a good idea, he spoke of his days in the USSR.

The cake still wasn't perfect, I let it be.

Standing at a corner, beside the guitar, I gently weeped.

Who am I ?

I am the walrus

Losing Marbles

The blue jays sing in the haze
As the white monkey says hello
I left the tree to the singing swallows
but where in the world are my marshmallows ?
See the point of the matter is that clues are questions
So while I be in the country, let me know your answers
Be a little to the left not much to the right
And you will see the light, oh the bright light
Bless the shadows they know me so well
If only they would come back, it would be so swell
Let it pour on the ashes, so a phoenix will sing
Not the song of love but maybe a catchy thing
When the bellows will borrow
You will see me tomorrow
And catch me cycling in the mud
So pass me a Hi and let out a sigh
For the pieces of grey seem to crack

Thursday, September 10, 2009


Being blue in the days of grey was on the cards. They never did fail to come with a surprise. The pages turn again today, maybe the corner of the page will be folded just to read it again. Seeing the drops fall from the trees took me back years back. In the middle of the heat came the cold and I was left undone. I looked at songs for friendship, I spent hours staring at the ceiling. Staring at the phone for a slight sign of life. This be my hobby, my food, my alcohol. Feelings are funny and how they tickle you so much that your shoulders droop and your sighs get doubled. I will be back to this but I have a degree to get.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

To a Fellow Hosteller

Creeping under the bed, he touches the cold surface of the iron leg. Dust settled all around him, the spiders could be seen dozing in their corners. He peered from the shadows through his red beady eyes and stared at the darkness. It was a night like no other. His companions had left, there was no more music, neither was there any words being spoken. It was quiet, his grave would have had more to look forward to. He crawled out from beneath the bed and stared at the barren wasteland which was once a mess of books, clothes and cigarette butts. He saw faint traces of them being there once but all that had been left were rejected pieces of cloth, writings on the wall and a ghostly light falling through the window and onto the old table. The gusto building, awe inspiring charts were still there and the closed doors and rainbow slippers stared at him from the great heights they were stuck on. The wind knocked against the window, but nobody was there to open it. The stuffiness was settling around him and somehow he knew that his nights would never be the same. Someone used to lie on top of the iron bed and hum soothing tunes from time to time. A flute would come out of his pocket and then there would be sweet kisses in the air as the melody escaped from this stick of his. He had this smile on his face that could never really be figured out. This small creature, alone and in the dark felt warmth on that night with the thought of that smile. That Secret Smile

Friday, April 17, 2009

Christine & Delilah

Christine and Delilah walked on the road silently. Basking the sun of the countryside, the two walked hand in hand to their farm. Pigs and Chickens passed them by as they smiled at them solemnly, feeing the breeze in their hair. Trudging along, they took turns in kicking a stone they had found and saw who could kick further. Christies's pink cheeks kept getting redder after every hour. Her freckles had reduced compared to what they were. Some of them could be seen on her bare neck that ended with a pink button of her shirt. Christine liked holding hands with Delilah, she loved the soft touch of her hand and the fingers entwining with hers. She loved playing with her hair sometimes too and Delilah would bite her ear whenever she got the chance. They would cuddle and wrestle before they went to bed with feathers everywhere.

Delilah and her blue eyes had always wandered to places where no one would think of going. Sometimes as she sat on her cart, she would get off and wander into the shrubs, roaming about aimlessly in hay fields, appreciating everything for what it was. Old pappys would love staring into her eyes and she would love looking at their eyes widen. It was like gold had been discovered after hours of digging. She would not like the looks that men with dark moustaches gave her. Out of the corner of her eye, she would catch a glimpse of shy boys looking at her. She would snub them off with her nose but deep inside, she smiled.

And with that same smile, she opened the gates of the farm. The two of them ran into the house with giggles escaping from their mouths. The door shut on the house and the ggigles continued from inside. It was then that a shadow came from the corner of the house that swallowed the cheerness of the giggles as it approached the door. A hand turned the knob, a nose sniffed the fragrance of the shampoo used that morning. A stubble rubbed against a cheek and the screams lingered through the house. The house of that farm stood there,basking in the countryside sun.

Helpless yet all knowing.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Bad President

I am the President. No matter how the media and the angry mobs have reduced me. I am the President. I was chosen among thousands and chosen by millions. A man born on the same soil as you all, I chose to lead and not be lead. I made decisions that were the caliber of a President and only I would be answerable to myself for these acts. I have enemies but I have stronger friends. They have helped me throught thick and thin and to date whatever I am is because of them. I have helped them in their worst scenarios. If you want to throw a stone at me then please do so. But remember fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame me. It has become mandatory for you all to listen to what I have to say and make an opinion out of it.

I have prayed to God everyday but dont you dare say that I have played him.

If that were possible, I would have.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


She kept them hidden till when needed
Her license to kill, her weapon of choice
I had chosen to keep myself away
I relied on prudence, not on vice.

I was unlucky enough to see her strike
The noblest of creatures I had ever seen
It was not in my nature to see this happen
But the claws kept me stranded in utmost horror.

Before I could turn to run the distance.
Those eyes fell right on to mine.
She lifted her veil and lifted her paws.
And out came those silver coated claws.

I ran for my life with my heart in my mouth.
Feeling my hair stand on my neck.
I could feel the pain as they ran deep.
The claws of terror, the claws of fear.

Any second now they would tear me apart
And leave in a pool of blood and dirt.
I waited and waited for the skin to tear
But there seemed no end to this slow death

So I stopped my feet and whirled around
Alas, my assailant was nowhere to be found.
All that was left,was a dark and murky alley
With not a soul in sight,not a ray of light.

As I wiped the sweat off my aching brow
I whispered a "thanks" to noone and left.
But till this date, my palms stay wet.
As I wait in fear to see those claws.

Those claws of terror, those claws of fear

Monday, January 5, 2009

Guttery Ghoul

I was once flushed down the sink and since then I have not seen the light of the day. Mummified in toilet paper I drifted on the lonely stream. I tried drowning sometimes but nothing really happened. Hoping that someday I would flow out into the openness of blue skies and bluer seas. Sadly, I have wandered in pipes, holes and gutters for years.

In the sewers, I never really did end up seeing any Ninja Turtles nor did I see Monsters from the unknown. Creepies and crawlies I sure saw a share of but they somehow seemed a lot quieter than what I had ought them out to be. Although there was this one instance when I had seen a hand float past by me. I never did find out what it was and whose it belonged to, I had some bad night thinking about that floating piece of flesh. Even the red nail polish reflecting the iris of my eyes flows through my brain at times.

Today is another day I wake up in the murky depths of my home. Everyday I pray that I leave this prison but everyday I wish lesser for it to happen. It is in these sewers that I am the lone ranger, I know the pipes and the drains by heart. Out there, the world might eat me up one day and spit me out the next.

Whatever the one up there has planned for me, I’ll be ready for it.

Afterall, Shit happens.