The Year Gone By-

As time ticks on, a year has gone by,
yet unlike always,
'twas not in the wink of an eye,
the year I felt was long,
for mama and for me-and for many of her sons
we all are happy; we are all strong;
but 'twas unlike the usual song-

it had its moments; of pride
of passion, of joys, celebrations,
and mama held her head high,
basked in the glory of her successes.
but not for long..

shocking elements crept in soon,
predictable yet unanticipated,
nations crippled, economies suffered
she tried - she struggled,
yet as inevitable it was, it was rude
and I limped alongside,
struggling to stand;
out and loud.

as men fought men; distinctions arose
unity in diversity, mama broke to tears
silly she thought, silly it was
the very fabrics of her existence
bent to unleash wrath,
sabotaged her
to a caricature of ridicule,
and she stood helpless
gaping in shame, and utter disgrace.

she was recovering though,
from her wounds;
affairs were in real bad shape
yet we were strong, we were hopeful,
but destiny had for us,
some real ugly turns.

all the pending notes,
of the tumultuous song-
had pathos, had cries,
imbued through out...
marred by fateful events mama was
'serenaded by the terror bird'
a quilt of love and brotherhood
so easily burnt to ashes....
as in horror,she watched,
the death macabre; and
it made her heart bleed.

she pledged vengeance,and
to eliminate the perpetrators
retaliated,yet has held her own,
and the values of peace and truth,
she has so well exemplified !

hence for the forgettable year gone by,
Its adios, sayonara, bye bye
The time is not just to be with friends,party;
But to swear truth and honest service
realize our destinies;
coz its the same second at
the stroke of midnight,
that announces the new year
yet it brings new hopes, unlike any
hopes on us, and hopes are many

and as she looks forward to
the new dawn, the new year,
to mama - we all wish
a year of prosperity and bliss
of victory of truth and right
over the evil might;
and 'cause we are all strong
we will all be happy
and for times long..
we will write the most melodious song
for mama, and all of her sons ....

-- 2008 - It was a year that witnessed the worst economic crisis in decades. The credit bubble burst and mortgage crisis followed and along with US, all of her dependencies saw their economies crippling and indexes plummeting. India was a major in that list. Investors, businesses lost money and tightened up. Lay-offs and cost cutting measures ensued, and it was not good news for job-seekers.

-- It was a year that witnessed the most horrendous terror attacks in the nation's history. It not only cost the nation many lives and property but most important of all undermined her sovereignty and integrity by holding her captive for around 60 hours. It also unearthed major follies and lethargy on the government's part in curbing terrorism and building a strong anti-terror mechanism.

I was deeply grieved by the Mumbai terror attacks and take this opportunity to extend my condolences to the victims and their families.It is really a sad day in the history of the nation.And hats off to all the NSG commandos, the Mumbai police, the VT terminal employees like the announcer, the TAJ hotel workers,etc. All of them played their part selflessly in the success of the entire operation.

-- The terror attacks are enough provocation for any nation to break lose, yet government has taken strategic steps by trying to influence the international community to impose political and economic pressures, and force Pakistan to curb and root out terror bases from its own soil. Because war clearly implies MAD(Mutually Assured Destruction). Hence the nation has held her principles in high regard while retaliating and protecting itself. Yet, in face of continued diplomacy and double talk by Pakistan, air strikes on terror bases and camps seems inevitable.

As a result of the ongoing tension between the nations, the gas-pipeline deal with Iran is most obviously dead. Though Pak might swear allegiance but its ulterior motives can never be trusted, not at least now.

-- Amidst a cauldron of conflicting politics, the ruling party is shaking. The year witnessed the least number of Lok Sabha sittings this year. Till the completion of 11th session there were 49 sittings held so far. And on 23rd Dec, while BJP and Shiv Sena were demanding the sacking of Minority Affairs Minister A R Antulaya, as many as eight Bills were passed in a span of 17 minutes!! I am not authorized to comment much on that, but many of them needed serious discussion.

-- Yet there were victorious moments, the N-Deal success, the Olympic Medals(esp. Bindra's gold), etc. Meanwhile, on personal front it was not a very good year, though it has got many cherishable memories on the pages.

-- So let us not just hope but work for a better, prosperous and happy year 2009.
Adversity breeds genius, and genius breeds contempt. These are testing times for all of us, and we must exude courage and strong will.
"Kyunki dar ke aage jeet he "

WISH YOU ALL THE BEST AND A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR 2009

Both of us -
downed by fatigue and tire
one has to wake up, rise higher... egh !!!

Playing - Boulevard Of Broken Dreams -Green Day

CAT fever and silly opiums !!

(click for a better veiw)

Hi friends ,

CAT is a true test of one's character rather than just solving problems and bubbling circles .Any one who has ever attempted to bell the cat must have realised this over and over again.

The idiotic and apparently philosophical poem you see above is a stupid vent after many inconsequential hours spent in shallow contemplation of what lies ahead for me !! Infact, the first stanza took form on the back-side of an OMR sheet! This is what happens with me being bogged down, sabotaged and marauded my the ruthless paws of the feline CAT. One week to go, irresistible and invidious spurts of anxiety and apprehensions so well avoided till now, seem to peep in through the inchoate crevices of my 'Fort Knox' and goad my tempestuous self with a look of disdain. A hazy image of glory is still palpable and tempting enough to keep slogging !!

All the best for CAT '08 - Tame the goddamn animal !

Poetry !!

"I believe that poetry is an action, ephemeral or solemn, in which there enter as equal partners solitude and solidarity, emotion and action, the nearness to oneself, the nearness to mankind and to the secret manifestations of nature. And no less strongly I think that all this is sustained - man and his shadow, man and his conduct, man and his poetry - by an ever-wider sense of community, by an effort which will for ever bring together the reality and the dreams in us because it is precisely in this way that poetry unites and mingles them."

“The poet didn’t scare off when they said he was a rebel. Poetry is rebellion. The poet was not offended when he was called subversive. Life transcends all structures, and there are new rules of conduct for the soul. The seed sprouts anywhere, all ideas are exotic, we wait for enormous changes everyday, we live through the mutation of human order avidly and spring is rebellious.”

- (Pablo Neruda)
Nobel Prize For literature(1971)
Pablo Neruda (July 12, 1904–September 23, 1973) was the pen name and, later, legal name of the Chilean writer and politician Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto.
With his works translated into many languages, Pablo Neruda is considered one of the greatest and most influential poets of the 20th century.read more about him.

You can also go through his Nobel Lecture. Get Inspired nerds !! http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1971/neruda-bio.html

Beach Lessons

In just two vital visits to a sandy (of course !) coastline beach nearby, I have begun to understand why people feel like returning to the BeachBaba every time some sort of extreme turbulence freezes their brains( Wat ! No, it wasn't one of those Australian nude beaches where scantily clad skimp mangoes run to ripe!!).

If you are an ambitious runner, weiried down by deliberate attempts of subversion by peers or otherwise, the mighty waves splashing hard against rocks, retreating back, gathering energy and gushing down again teach you perseverance and the preponderance of work(or Karma) against apparent glories of their results .Do not hedge your bets, run harder.

Throw anything light it gets back to you. The resilient sea wouldn't readily get into debts. But if the shit you throw are heavier than the waters, they spoil the waters and at times to an irreparable extent. The sea gets coarser on the outer though it might be ethereal pure-blue at its core. Her tertiary arms suffer the bruises, but she fights on with an inspiring endurance. Her tolerance should not be miscued to be her weakness because we have all witnessed the aftermaths of her rage.Though ultimately we have come to realise the painful reactions of our actions with a part of the sufferings closing down on us and our coming generations.

If you are stressed, the rejuvenating fresh breeze on the beaches infuse in you a new leash of life with all sorts of hopes and aspirations, love and affection, happiness and purpose,blah..blah.And certainly, I bet the amazing tranquility in the darkness of the post-sunset beaches is far more intoxicating and refreshing than any opium you may have tried.The silence and isolation of the beaches together with the melodious sound of beating waves is soothing to one's heart and soul and certainly wipes of all bitter thoughts or nerve-wrecking and revolutionary ideas clogged down in your humble brain. Pure unalduterated harmony of nature.

Well if you are one Schmaltz bomb, the natural beauty and romantic ambience might be the perfect trigger for an unprecedented explosion. Please do not let the splinters spoil the moment, try being happy like all the merrier people on the beach !! Coz, things happen for a reason and a better purpose. Hopefully, BeachBaba's vibes will be re conciliating.

The might and the volume of the sea exemplify greatness in humility.

And for the ever jovial characters, a perfect place for merry-making. Plan a trip, sleep down with your buddies, and enjoy the Ashram. BeachBaba's tutelage is all the more helpful for all you young guns. One thing you will certainly take off with you are cherisable memories of the blissful moments. Hope everyone's in this category.

And lot more life lessons to discover. It is up to you. You might not get any lessons at all, but you cannot certainly ignore the energy of the place.

Happy learning and have fun.

An Endless Dark Pursuit

On a night like this, he would not have been out. But tonight it was different. Peter Keller could no way compromise with the task at hand.

December 2007.Sitting by his bed, he was thinking of all those wonderful moments he had spent with his wife that like an appliqué had transformed his life. Those were the only things he remembered of his life. Hands in hands, deep down in contemplation, his abrupt thoughts were interrupted by Maria’s words that seemed like her last.

“Peter, don’t lose heart. Peter”. Peter looked at her with desperate affection, terrified by the thought of losing her, and the emptiness that would ensue. He could feel the sudden spasms of her body. The sweet reminiscence of old memories juxtaposed with the pain of watching his wife suffer. His religious beliefs and faith in the Almighty was shattered. And he was helpless.

He wanted his wife, and this desire was driving him mad. The furious and turbulent waves of anxiety had literally drained out all reason off his smothered soul.

It was thirty past midnight. As the gusty winds slammed the window panes, the calendar dropped on the floor. Peter was baffled, as he picked it up. He couldn’t waste anymore time. Unkempt, with long beards, and curious-faced scars, Peter put on his overcoat, checked his knife and drove off. He had to do this.

The stormy winds were back and he could hardly see anything as he was speeding away. “Screech”, he applied the brakes and an appalled silence filled his face as he noticed blood dripping on his rearview mirror. He turned back, and ‘splat’, a tender hand just like his wife’s across the glass. Right then, the wipers started and car drove off all by itself. He tried his best to control it but couldn’t. All the while the mysterious events were boggling down on his mind. As the car sped, he noticed, as a sudden impulse, his wife before the car and zoom the car ran over her. Blood and mucous splat across the glass and it almost freezed his heart. Meanwhile the car veered off the road and hit a tree. The madness to cure his wife was so intense, he didn’t feel any pain and started running towards the Orland Cemetery across the churchyard. He fell on a grave with blood all across his face. He could see petrifying apparitions all around. He pulled his knife and a ceremonious cloth and cut his skin deep enough to drip in the cloth. An intense passion and belief in the supernatural or, may be, in his wife’s survival had eclipsed all his rationale and religious beliefs. A strange numbness had robbed his psyche of all physical acuities. Meanwhile, his chest continued to bleed as he tied the cloth around a creepy plant. He was struggling as he tried to spell strange chants.

‘If God can’t, I can and I will’.

With these words he fell over the gravestone and dropped his knife, and a name shone on the stone in the glint of his knife.

“Maria Keller
Died – 10/08/2005 ”

Summary :-

The subconscious mind of an individual is believed to hold supernatural powers and the body accustoms itself to things that our subconscious accepts. This is also a reasonable explanation to most mysteries, like the strange healing power of priests or Gurus.

The story exemplifies this power and the manner in which it can it deter resistance by reason developed over the entire span of one's life.

Still, a lot is left to the readers to comprehend, just to ensure they don't fall into a stereotypical thought process.

This is the story I have written as an entry for the Times Of India supplement SpellBound.

Please send back your reviews.

Need You by my side..

amongst such anger, and passions deep,
among riots, warheads and the Truth beneath,
awake happy, sad or in deep sleep,
in danger of being shelled
right through my sheathe,

I need you by my side,
I need you to share, to talk
laugh and live
by my side, by my side...

when the sun's 'bout to rise
to light upon billion lives,
I need you, to shine by my side;
and when clouds start to pour
I'd love seeing you dance
and the rain adore.

I need you by my side
on isolated moonlit nights,
on bright Sunday mornings,
electric Sat-eves and spooky horror times,
times of joy, times of sorrow,
regret and pride and everytime
so I could have every feeling
and watch you feel
by my side, by my side.

to watch the spiralling rise
of every mote of life around us
to live to the promises of those
who bequethed, life and breath in us,
to confide and let confess
to compromise, appraise and despise
to absolve and get absolved
to preach to someone things I think
to stare at and barter cute winks
to cuddle and care
and the wildest thoughts share
to have someone,to entrust everything to
on some buying spree, or to help free

I need a hand, to hold mine
I need a stand to support mine
I need a soul to still mine
I need you
to be mine
and walk hand in hand
for times eternal,
till the very last breath
till death and beyond
by my side, by my side.....

but one thing I wished I knew
things you need, things you like
wish we have something alike!!

War of Silence

A thousand attempts failed
and many battles fought,
many lives lost -
millions thoughts crushed,
they call it war - of honour, pride...blah
where one must win
to survive- say not to die;
and what inevitably loses face
and gets weaker is mankind
and hence you ,me and they..
Armstice talks, 'diplomatic' efforts
colour the facade while
ammo race and nuclear craze
dump into every backyard squallor
bound by factitious legacies
the smokescreens are blinding
and promises and hopes untrue
and till we open our hearts out
The war of silence
will ensue ..
will haunt
every matryr to come...
and every child born..


peacekeeping forces come and piss
speakers scream burn the mikes
and deep within every nation
every soul makes a wish
-why to cry and plead to God
and still nod- its all His work
though unifying are such
spiritual waves-
ah ! what a paradox;
the sinews of war
and malign industry stocks
will mount on to capacity
and troops on the borders
stand alone, face the chill winds
of queit hostility and truce traps,
of the war of minds called religious prejudice
of burns, of scars inscripted on them
so crafted they turn fanatics
such miseries
exigencies of 'wars'
will continue to rot human race
darken all our lives
and till we open our hearts out
The war of silence
will ensue ..
will haunt
every matryr to come...
and every child born..

Losing Myself

I talk to figures, to none
while I wander all alone
unclear intox-waves in my head
speak to a fragment
of my soul unknown.
The roads are clear-
on my way ahead
cluttered, with crowded matter
that run for better
while I'm still in quest
for beauties off it.

I draft stupid messages
to be reading all by myself
and hold the phone
close by my ears
waiting you to call;
the fragment the intox-waves
all till they fall
drive me to crazy lands
with sharp edges and vacant pleasures.

While the city screams and engine chugs
provide cover, I talk to you, read you stories
wishing you're by my side
to laugh at my jokes,
to deign to make love
till I fall asleep...
that part of my soul
clearly beyond my will
has tamed me tight
and I am losing myself.

I do things otherwise I wouldn't
I gettin weak a way I shouldn't
debauched into crazy trash
with nothing to gain
a fascimile of you -
stuck in my brain
predisposes it to unknown cancers
and replicating pain
smothering me and stretching me
to such lengths
I'm losing myself
I'm losing myself.

25th May, except for the 1st 3 hours and a slight afternoon drizzle, that did offer some respite from the scorching heat, nothing went right. Had a test the day next and I screwed up completely..improper question selection, bad time management and careless mistakes to say among the few.

26th - even -7:10. A visit to a Wonderland

Wanderlust and weather-beaten Chandan was in the rarest of moods and inveigled me and Rama for an outing to an arcane place (that was a surprise !).A volte-face change in our moods and off we went, delirious, with our victuals and THINGS bundled up, on his 100cc that was visibly grieved and screamed blue-murder having to lift 3 people worth 200 kg, me contributing the least.

After around 40 minutes of biking we were out of the city limits, to a place called Tankapani. It was dark. With beamers flashing on us, the monstrous and callous trucks went past us as if we never existed.

Finally we reached the place, though I could not figure out anything except for a giant Banyan tree. It was planted by Chandan around a decade ago and hence was a very special friend for Chandan (hence for all of us !).But, what else? We parked the bike and walked a few steps to an amazing land. We now realised we were actually on the river bed of Dayanadi.

A visibly endless stretch of grassy land, with the still and vast river by its side set in an amazing tranquility and darkness of the evening slightly lit up by the innumerable stars that embellished the night sky. Away from the cacophony of the city life, its quiet ambience ravished us. With no one around us, we felt as if we were in a completely different land that was so beautifully embraced in the myriad colourful elements of Mother Nature. Free and frenzied, a strange feeling of wilderness descended on us. Though the moon light was absent, a distant white light lit up a streak of the river with its tiny waves that emanated simplicity, humility and contentment in self that was so lacking in everyone of us.

History goes like this; the famous Battle of Kalinga was fought on the same river-bed that seemed so cosy to us now. The battle ensued such loss of human life and blood-shed that blood flowed and gave rise to a different branch of Mahanadi called Dayanadi. The Battle was such horrific, it changed King Ashoka from ChandaAshoka to DharmaAshoka. The history of the land augmented a special human touch to the entire place.

The whispering of the crickets and the sound of the swinging coconut tree leaves was purely rejuvenating. Meanwhile, the booze and smoke flowed and we were waffling and battering inconsequently. The place itself was so touching and meaningful, we didn't need to add any meaning to our talks ! The cool breeze that wafted the scent of the rain-kissed ground, was intoxicating and soothing to our frayed minds and bare bodies.

The soporific effect of the breeze and the perfect ambience all around was so tempting that we lied down. Romantic, isn’t it? Though there was some sort of romance between me and Rama, ‘off-the-wagon’ Chandan remained a happy spectator!! As we lay there on the grass, we could doodle any picture like Shahrukh could do in Swadesh, in the twinkling stars draped in the night sky. Such are the pleasures of nature that so ruthlessly desecrated by ever-wanting humans. We had lots of fun, and talked and laughed our hearts out.

As the night crept in, we realised that 'twas too late and left off. Our quest for some dinner till late night is another epic to tell. The entire experience was a memory to cherish for and till now I get a strange feeling of nostalgia about that wonderland.

Its once in a blue moon, that you get to spend such wonderful and jovial time with friends, hope and in perfect harmony with nature. You feel like being on Earth !!

Life's like a movie

Yet another goal,
'nother choice to make
When flowing still is such fun.
Why ther's always a
fukin' diversion..

flashbacks of old times
fun and crimes
moments of pride
moments of guilt
pop every now and then
Some make me laugh
Some bring me tears..

Cause when I look
at what I am now
I feel low-
could have been better
had I not
messed up below
Frustration and don-depression
are such fukin' villians
you know...

then a light breeze touches me
romance storms at their peak
set the drama right
"love is the clouds,
love is in the air,
love is down deep...(ha..)
love is everywhere.."
nice goody songs
with wet eyes and wine

Dates and roses,
'come objects to save
every rupee for
and dialogues cooky
an art for
.. every cover up.

Mother never knows
why son's so happy,
amidst such trouble
she thinks, and pesky
cute girls..

The ship hits the berg,
and countless emotions
- the life of a cruise
jump off in no time-
like panic-stricken crew;
All the while
the Captain's lookin shocked
remorse filled-
"Hold on ! ", he cries,
hits on a glass--
Ah ! the girl's away,
"Fuck the berg !!"

Will like a good friend,
in need.. indeed
advises not to
fall for stripper baits,
and look forward,
look higher
while he still stands
by me.

The myriad elements
of joy and action,
friends and foes
stare still
as Focus lends his hand
points me to glory
"Prepare for the war"
goads me to action
and the
war begins...

Dreams and hopes
my heroes come alive
take the cart with me
As the tiring race starts
cinematic it seems
cinematic it is.
With infinite carts to beat,
and no position-meter,
the suspense is
on a high and
the bet is irresistible.

The final laps
are crucial
so is the role of Focus.
He is awake and
so am I,
and
with nothin to fake
nothin to hide
Life is like a movie
Life is like a ride

Scenes and takes
actions and stakes
with all the fun
with all the joy
Yet one thing
I realise at every climax
there are no retakes
One shot hit or
miss and shit...

Dark dayz or
Green Miles.....
what lies ahead
the director wouldn't reveal
but with the
feeble autonomy at hand
I can veer it someway..
I must any way
How, what, when and where?
the script is locked
must wait and watch

What I can do all
is play the game cool
cause there's nothin to lose
while my heroes are alive
and they must never die..

And
with nothin to fake
nothin to hide
Life is like a movie
Life is like a ride
but the scenes being mine
and me the superstaR
't must be a hit
and for ages shine....

Dreams....

If God could help,
I would pray
to calm my
pounding heart
of imaginations and fantasy,
Wild and romantic
dreams,they promise
love of a figure
of mystic charm
and sophisticated
ornamentations.

Like orange in the mist,
colours of life
appear and fade fast
ofcourse, dreams they are
cunning enough-
to ring, shrink and vanish
before one can think,
gape and wonder
at the beauty of
such insane dreams.

Dreams, like
delicate classics to be
handled with care;
like dew drops shimmering,
shining on a nurtured leaf;
of rainbow colours
and abstract shapes
easy to limp at,
hard to decipher.

At times, like a
shuffled puzzle,
or a complex maze
they lure us to reckon
and make
a picture out of
the bijou pieces-
But how could one
be foolish enough
to ever let reason
the beauty of such mazes
unsolved spoil.

Like red wine and joy,
intoxicating they are;
of girls, cars and kisses,
fright, ghosts and chases;
songs and sex
actors and old friends,
exam scares and killing edges,
pets you never had,
acts you never dared,
past girlfriends and future lives-
-rare they are.
And of, blue, red,
black and white
chrome bright or carbon black,
kaleidoscopic jumbles
of things in life,
and of all things
I wouldn't
remember much.

They may drive you
crazy at times,
but I said-
'to be handled with care'
like glass warriors with sharp blades
coz dreams can
make you things achieve
dreams can
help you moments relive
lose a fortune
or gain a life ;
in grief be your solace
and your partner at gay.

But dreams are not
like 'pill at your will'
random creations-
they come afresh
sprinkle life into
cold hearts and stuffed brains
and
leave you craving
for 'nother one
to rain..


"Hold them fast , lest they fly away,
coz when dreams die....
we're just slaves of a despotic destiny...." - Priyabrata

early hours of Sat..I sat down to study for my vivas...I realized my mind was wandering elsewhere and I started scribbling about my dreams. As mentioned above, I always had weird dreams that made me wonder about them when I woke up and smile at their insanity.So, this poem is kinda based on my personal experiences. Dreams may differ from person to person. To some it may be wonderland sojourns and to some nightmares.... Newaz , I personally liked it very much.

Done being in love with you

When I was a child,
I was attracted to a girl,
Seemed like my first love,
serene and pristine -
like mountain snow;
I wished I had girlfriends
grew up without any..

When I grew up,
I fell for another.
She had the basic things right,
though we hardly talked,
except when we departed-
when she disappeared into
thin mist,
- lost in time.

Spreadin' my wings,
never did things affect me;
till 'nother bug bit me..
senior at prom,
diamond she looked;
devil-dressed blue angel,
I was scared to touch...

'twas like those 40 winks,
a fantasy sojourn to Neverland,
lustre lost, a memory gained,
plastic smiles,short clips;
things never got real-
till another svelte touch;

She was good,
not much a picture, chaotic;
raised a rumpus,
yet she was a fine,
ruby carmine;
confused catterpillar,
n'er turned a butterfly;
things jus happened,
like some divine patterns
bound to take shape,
love was blind, now I knew
the pain was real
she wasn't right
done being in love with her.

enough; there's none else
soul stripping catharsis,
the Truth is here,
hopes still alive
laugh not-
life's never picture perfect
The Day will arrive..
The Day will arrive.

PIRATE PRIDE AND A MAGICAL CASTLE

Again this is not a poem...read it as a song...get me a break. Well , this is yet another casual attempt to say; I wrote it during my AI class..


A cloud of heavy smoke,
fills the air around;
A light zephyr blows 'em away
Leaving me alone..wid my dreams.

1 {
What could possibly be the reason,
I want 'nother solution..
To escape - hide from my self,
illusive blurred dreams,
I want 'nother solution.
}

A half built castle blown by the storms,
the roots got arid..
how a tree would be born,
Screaming aloud -pride opposes
Nurtured it with my own hands,
And now it's threat-
to me; to my dreams and
my magical castles.

(1) repeat
{
What could possibly be the reason,
I want 'nother solution..
To escape - hide from my self,
illusive blurred dreams,
I want 'nother solution.
}

Chokin' drapin sheets- smothering me,
Bolted my brain, that I find it
hard to breathe..
the crew held hostage,
--some refuge of a wrecked ship;
by fuckin Pirate Pride
Pistols firing aloud ..
shiver my logic..

end{
Now, if I could puke it off
I could stand my reason,
and hence stand for myself..
and a myopic vision..
And my magical castles ..
watch 'em real alive......
watch 'em real alive...

Through this----

Well, this is my first attempt to write a Rap song actually since song lyrics and the way music gives it life have always inspired and amazed me. This is a rather casual attempt, written during my Operating Systems class. I must improve subsequently still I thought I could put it here..Any ways if you can get it recorded I will be more than happy(though I've thoughtof a music to it)..and yes u can ofcourse you can suggest an apt title.

If you could stare into my eyes,
its an ocean full of...
hopes, emotions, fear and pride;
Waves of ecstasy-troughs of cries.

And you could even get,
A glint of a threat,
a sort of frozen fire,
that burns me within-finding no escape;

1
{
Life was like a gleam,
of unfelt dreams,
Life has become hell,
too horrible to tell.

Tell me what you see,
When you stare into my eyes;
2(Treason, betrayal, love or shit),
Tell me what you get,
when you peep into my heart..
plundered of its toys..
plundered of silly joys..
hmm.....
}

If you could peep into my heart,
You could sense an uproar,
numbd by sweet poison-
hurt by pretention;
yet it beats for you-
yet it beats for you....

1
{
Life was like a gleam,
of unfelt dreams,
Life has become hell,
too horrible to tell.

Tell me what you see,
When you stare into my eyes;
2(Pain n love n a potrait of myself),
Tell me what you get,
when you peep into my heart..
plundered of its toys..
plundered of silly joys..
hmm.....
}

I won't be afraid,
for any cheap fuck,
and I won't be afraid,
for any cruel luck..
I shall lead my life
beyond my all desires;
I shall hold my ground..
Yet it shakes for you ..
Yet it shakes for you

VDay Redemption

Irrational juxtaposition of two souls leading to a mythical, endless and riotic love affair. An affair which is long afloat by a fragile hope on a seemingly rudderless stream. The perdition of such unfortunate and fortuitous events often leaves an indelible mark on one’s thinking percolating through to the core of his philosophies, which are often gullible enough to deserve a crucible of a mature mind and so easily biased by Rand-novels.

Such love affairs seem to be a juvenile delinquency of the doer and he swears of perennial abstinence from romancing with voluptuous figures (or for the purists’ sake –beatific souls) oblivious of the fact that he never committed such crimes in the first place. They just happened.

You stand helpless, skeptic of the obscure audacity within you. The momentum of ballistic projectiles suddenly abates baffled by the mysteries of love. Your faculties, dilapidated by the unkind daggers inflicting your heart, run out of sanity and sanctity. The absence of both is unfathomably traumatic. Tragic ending of an ephemeral love story.

Musing on a chair, in perfect solitude, you laugh at those incredible and cherished moments spent together. So beautiful, though not perfectly harmonic. You reciprocate nonchalantly to the disdainful taunts and looks of fellow men. ’What the hell did they ever know? On a path I’ve chosen to skip’. Draconian Love. Lovers’ trysts peep into your sleep. Everything seems to augment the scourge on your psyche.

Sympathy comes as a soothing balm and seems a dire necessity. A placid countenance on your face exudes a natural aversion to silly human feelings- abstract and foolish. The bliss of love and its promises seems like polished pebbles and crafted shells on a puddle of mud. And your foot is still in it.All the altruism you ever exhibited for your love has gone diluted in the mud. And you wonder why things are the way they are, more in sorrow than in anger.

‘’’Why was she so reticent?’ ‘Was she scared of the ramifications?’ ‘How could she be so rude?’ And why is this simple thing so byzantine and cumbersome?’ Am I the right guy?’ ”

‘Infatuation, infection, addiction, lust, love …..what was it?’

All such questions pop up of the heavy hollow in your mind. There is a strange pleasure in this intoxicating pain. And when the Little Manhattan boy says -

“’Love is an ugly, terrible business practiced by fools.’

‘It will trample your heart and leave you bleeding on the floor.’

‘And what does it leave you with?

Nothing but a few incredible memories’”; its just so satiating to your ego.

As I write this on 14^th February, ’08 , a Judgment Day for many myriad affairs, every flashback of good old times pumps a phial of blood out of my ransacked heart. Now we are not to portend the destination of such joy-rides. Still, if at any point of time, you ever have such thoughts or come across such feelings, it’s nothing but True Love. Regardless of what you get (return on the heavy investment), its priceless and a lifetime treasure. Empyrean and sublime, nothing can steal this from you. If you can, forgive and forget-fight with fortitude, if you can’t -

‘Stay happy, Stay Hungry and Stay foolish’.

(Atonement of a kind.At least if it can give such an impulse to one’s creativity , there’s nothing to lose).

{again sorry for the grammatical errors if any}