BEARD

While I had it…
like a beautiful poem I cherished it

The longer it grew on the outside
its roots only strengthened me inside

I stroked it, it stroked me
its raw presence, unmade me

It nourished me like an umbilical chord
that cutting it indeed choked me

Parting ways didn’t take to grieving
not that a certain ‘ghost of bard’ had left me

But it made me look like a boy again
boy o boy, a la Siddharth Sanghvi maybe

Still can’t say whether its absence
has deterred me,  or made me less of me

But while it was with me
it made me love me.

Ways

I sugarcoated
I bootlegged
I elbowpushed
but am still falling in a deep abyss 

I went crimson
I went ashen
I went amorphous
only to be left with more baggages

I heard voiceless forms
I wrote with an inkless pen
I bartered my soul
but maybe destiny loves me in other ways

THE VERANDA OF THE BRAIN

Liquid soul.. a mouthful of water.. and a pack of sticks to go by.
The Guwahati paradox, the James Holmes black humour,
and butting upon the known-unknown memoir of Kaka.

The human form of happiness and depression…
the creation of a self-made abyss and search for a way out,
search for a satire, learn and lean onto others depression,
and get carried way into a land of pain and hunger.

The teeth for violence, randomness and voyeurism…
no iron to hold, no words to calm,
The rise of the uncalled you. The unbecoming of you.

Dimag ka jhumroo

CANTO I:

Arz kiya hai

Arz kiya hai, ADVANI ji
ab aap hume bye-bye bas keh hi dijiye

ADVANI ji ab aap hume bye-bye bas keh hi dijiye
aur aapke ‘ram ram’ ke aakhri morche mein…

(clearing my throat…)

(high pitch)
ADVANI ji… aur aapke ‘ram ram’ ke aakhri morche mein
Uss RAM JETHMALANI ko bhi saath mein le lijiye…

(a yell)
ADVANI ji… aur aapke ‘ram ram’ ke aakhri morche mein
Uss RAM JETHMALANI ko le lijiye saath mein!
Ek atal satya hai ye!

(a whisper) 
Bhai kisiko pata hai uss ATAL BIHARI ka kya hua?

CANTO II:

(People.. thoda motivate karo.. say ‘Irshad)
Ab ‘satya’ ki baat karen
toh kya kahen

Ab ‘satya’ ki baat karen
toh kya kahen…

…SHOBHAA ji…
Ab……….
Aap………
Bhi………….

…SHOBHAA ji ab aap bhi
bas likh-likh ke hamari lena chod digiye

SHOBHAA ji ab aap bhi
bas likh-likh ke hamari lena chod digiye…

(a yell)
…aur
kitne
hamari
maroge!

(a whisper) 
Ekdum BHAGAT bana doge kya?!

CANTO III:

(a high pitch statement)
Ab yeh agli baat pe koi vandalize mat karna

(with a smile in voice)
Chutti…
…kise achi nahin lagti

Susti…
(biting my tongue)
bhai, galti se sahi baat muh par aagayi!!!
Mein toh eknumber ka sustad hu!!!

Chutti kise achi nahin lagti…
BALASAHEB… aap ke siva hamara hai hi kaun…

BALASAHEB… aap ke siva hamara hai hi kaun…
aap ke siva Maharashtra Bandh hame dega kaun

(a yell)
Kisiki majal?!

(High pitch)
BALASAHEB… aap ke siva hamara hai hi kaun…
aap ke siva Maharashtra Bandh hame dega kaun

(a whisper)
Koi hai itne badi PRATIBHA?!

Chaos Reigns

Arrested

Pretentious runway… funny larva… adulterated gossip… some fake smiles… even bigger faking laughs… crocodile tears… big mouths… small hands… cathartic emotions sold for perishable ambitions… erectile dysfunction … elastic marks or meaningless ideologies… sometimes everything is going good and then there is this ‘but’ which makes you feel like a ‘butt’… and then there are days when you consider public as pubic and want to get rid of everything… words get broken without your knowledge ‘therapist’ to ‘the rapist’… and even writing seems a big farce… the biggest falsity on earth… ridden by artificiality… like a mole.. like a motley… like a molten lava… each having a meaning.. but without a sentence it has no meaningful living… and then you go dream… and they turn into nightmares… like you like beer and you are thrown into a barrel of beer and made to drink till you die… the keyboard then gets typed on its own.. the words fill the pages on its own.. the letter gets printed on its own… the message gets passed on its own… and everything then starts living on its own without the need of any human existence… the material starts living then.. a scarlet day… broken hopes… speech chord vanished… pixilated existence… nobody to decipher… Arrested Thinking. 

The curse of the killing noise in the veil of silence

The sin of the blazing sun… it shined in a peaceful cup… enlightened for a while… made the mind wander… glitter… free… before drugging it to a burning eternity. Like fire burning water. One form getting decomposed by another. Wind. Earth. Just mere spectators. Men like hay sticks just fueling the process of death. Crimson colour. Black vomit. White soul. The cry bearable. A vacuum of sound bottled. Outside disappeared. Inside ballooning up. Particles multiplying. And in an usher killing them all. Killing every, each and all. Waiting for new particles to come to existence which will never come. But it will wait. Wait in that lullaby of noise. Patiently. Eating its own churns. Drinking its own fluid. Giving rise to violent thoughts. Exempt from any explanation.   

The lungs of restlessness

Sound waves like blades are cutting through my cells… entering those crevices… which had closed eons ago. Then, it was an orifice of abolishment... a cave of nudity that had nothing but autonomy… Everything could just lie there… be silent, be broken… be esoteric… be. Nothing to hide from any one… no matter… no mass… only one religion… that of flesh and blood could be together. It couldn’t be taken from you by any force. No faces with desires… no figures.. no emotions… like water running in a perennial river… there is a definite flow... a beautiful truth of purity it is… like the billions of years ago there was a reality.. all believable and no moot. Its eyewitnesses still existed in some form.. and if you are naked.. it will take you in with you. Peace.   

(Title credit- The Fox Scene from the movie ANTICHRIST)

I Like to Follow

He’s big on fb,
even bigger on twitter,
& like most, dwarf on Google+.

Dead on Orkut,
ghost on LinkedIn,
& never even farted on Friendio.

“What is Quora?” he asks on Quora,
accepts anyone & everyone on Foursquare,
& plans to do ‘Ctrl C & P’ on Goodreads.

Some have asked him “why on Blogspot
& not on Wordpress?”
& he says with pride “I’m now on Pintrest.”

Poli-tickle & other dissertation

I feel like Khushwant Singh writing a satire
btw…HT should sack him… his writing sucks now
Chuck Norris is a far better read
Even a ‘now quiet’ Balasaheb should remain quiet this BMC election
there are so many people who can now ‘talk’
ya I am talking about Airtel customers talking whatever they missed for 3 days
even the ‘the Wall’ of India can now talk
no no… India doesn’t have funds to construct a-la-China Wall
btw… food at Mainland China is awesome… obviously expensive… wtf?
Oh ho… I was talking about apna Jam jam jammy’s speech at Bradman’s oration
Aree... where’s the other Rahul?
Rahul paani chala jaega… quickly marry…your choices are:
A) Maya’kali’wati   B) Sushma ‘tikka’ Swaraj 
C) Mamta ‘no tikka’ Banerjee D) Preity ‘shutup! Dimple means a shorter bone’ Zinta
Now that this CONgress scion is trying everything to UP his mettle
Oh no… there’s Thane cyclone in Chennai
Breaking news!!! Thane people are burning with rage…
They have decided to create a statue of the Chennai lad Dhanush and pee over it  
O shucks O shucks… I saw ANTI-CHRIST movie… I liked that harassment part…
On harassment note… RA-ONE killed me…
where SRK did to us… what RGV did with Sholay’s remake
One of my friend called Dev might bury me alive on this
no no Dev Anand is not my friend… he was a friend of Subrato Roy and Pritesh Nandy
and so many others who claimed Dev Anand to be their chuddybuddy after his demise
Anyways... I am waiting for R K Laxman to say dasvidaniya
I guess a TOI team is already working on that edition
I’ll just be on a reading-tron… same as Crest…
wtf is with these Crest people..they’re damaging my retina
God knows when am gonna read that unwritten novel of mine.
Cyrus Mistry (replacement of TATA)