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

THINGS TO DO

Thursday, October 15, 2009

From a Pakistani To a Pakistani

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


Grim:
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.