Monthly Archives: July 2014

A Conversation

I vent my anger out in my mind,

In a conversation I have with you,

You and I, we know the what is happening,


You, whatever you are, whoever you are,

I don’t really care, but I know you need to exist,

Because all of this, the universe, the vacuum even, the concept of space

Each morsel that exists and each micro or macro morsel that created another morsel,

All would need to come into existence through another,


You, yourself, how were you born?  How did you come into being?

A phoenix emerges from its own ashes, but did the ashes come first?

Or did the fire or the bird? Either way how does any end or any beginning begin?

If I penned the chain of thoughts on your existence, the chain reaction of words would never cease.


Now, I come back to our conversation, the one we were having,

You are quite the player; you still look me in the eye,

Look us all in the eye, after your games have gone beyond bleeding awry?

Having nurtured the humungous catastrophes,

And dreary events that plague your creations unfurling within the zillion time zones in a clocks single tick-tock,


Millions lie licking the dust off the roads while others stomp on the tongues of these millions,

Ripping each other apart over your creations, cringing at the thought of change,

Shaking internally at thought of being without our robots, our bombs, our knives, our pieces of paper,

Justifying our weakness, Lobbying for the institutes that we once built to harbor structure,

Today the structure, its walls with its glossy art work blinding us, its plastic beauty seducing us,

Lead us to turn a deaf ear to the rumbles from the crumbling base, mutating cells of our minds,

Keeping us shackled to the euphoria of possession, of power to create more steely plastic beauty,

Aware yet ignorant of the tyrant that posses us-“our hunger for this power, the tyrant itself”


All this, must have been initiated by your one fantasy of creating us,

Maybe you are not as psychic about your creations as people make you out to be? “Ouch” did you say?

A weird thought, I wondered if we are just within a video game,

With your kind navigating and playing for both sides,

One for harmony and the other for destruction,

As game advances to next levels do we evolve as we are now?


Sure, you and most of us point fingers at ourselves, so do I

Maybe you created the circumstances, scripted the rules of the game,

And now you reside wherever you reside, within us and all we create did you say?


But I warn you, the hands that lift those heads from the ground, clutching them to their bosom,

Will place on their tongues what is rightfully each one of ours,

Control what we created; dull the paintings on the walls,

Steer our minds and attune our ears to the frequencies of the rumbling sounds,

And turn the dials to raise the voice from within that very magnificent creation of yours,

The feet that walk will draw the line of equity in the absolute sense,

The eyes that see the world, will in its mind find the courage, the power of to resurrect the same within all.

Can’t let you have your own way forever, can we?


I have lot more to say, lot more to ask,

But for now I will let you ponder and mull over our talk,

Hope the next time we see each other, joyous and serene thoughts will be the cause,

Of course this is what I hope every time, however, till our next conversation, adieu.


Categories: life | 4 Comments

Crazy Art Edited-Random

DSC_0099 (1)-001 DSC_0099 (1)-002 DSC_0099-001
DSC_0099-003DSC_0099-002 So I just drew this random sketch,(( that’s the last one), to me it looked quite bland, not sure why.. Guess variety was missing, so I decided to have some fun with it and edited it into versions.. 🙂


Categories: art, blogging, change, CRAZY ART, life | Tags: , | 2 Comments

Unfading Moments

A moment that carves each of its blinks on your soul and flesh,

Blushes the mind with the memory of just that one instant,

Oh, the allure of reliving that moment,

Feeding the soul with every passing emotion,

It was dark, drizzly, soft pitter-patter, As the two stood beneath the trees,

Glow of the street light illuminating their eyes,  

The night beckoned two souls to wish adieu,

As a hopeful shy heart stood by,

Wishing to know the heartbeat of the almost stranger by her side,

The parting arrived too soon, A slight look passed, fingers intertwined for a few instants, 

Unwilling to let go, yet shying away,

And oh the blood rushed through, nerves felt alive, Flesh desired a closeness,

Eyes cast low, fumbling thoughts took over, the hand of shy heart felt bereft of the touch, 

The heart stood watching the stranger’s retreating silhouette disappear around corner,   

A dull sadness fogged the sweet aroma of molten emotions,

A critical mind, turned a critical eye to the heart’s shy attire,

Wishing for paths to meet soon, to imprint the heart with the desired wishful memory,

How the soul craved for time to expand then,

Stretch longer than it already does in the mind’s eye now,

The soul, as it travels back and forth,

Savoring the emotions bound to her memory,

The unfading moments, the almost stranger, the enticing yet serene night.

Categories: emotions, expressions, life, life, places, poetry, silence, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , | 3 Comments


download (1)

Air seems to be receding in

A spiraling wave seems to be a tornado

A tornado delving in,

Magnetizing the zillions of droplets,

Marbles that carry molten bits of emotions,

Extracting from the hidden and shady edges the shattered marbles,

And the thinning form of soul fillings assimilate,

Forming a legion,

Revolving in a tightly wound Chakravyuha

Each emotion love, anger, greed

Fear, passion,

Form concentric circles,

Circles that revolves continuously and simultaneously,

At the center revolves our conscious,

Each element that enters this ring,

Quite possibly succumbs to the gravity of the magnetized molecules,

 A soldier with a razor sharp will Iron clad,

A constant belief in the existence of real element trapped in illusions,

Slashes through multitude of alluring decoys,

At each victory another challenge succeeding the past one,

A serenity settling down upon his being as he drew closer to the “I”

A Chakravyuha’s intellect, tact and overwhelming strength defeated, but intact.

Awaiting the entry of another such soldier,

While keeping all those trapped, hypnotized in an endless trance.


P.S- I am guessing the word Chakravyuha to be a sanskirit term, I heard of it when I started reading and watching Mahabharatha. Chakravyuha is more of military tactic used then. However I have used it as a psychological imagery.

I am just including a link and also a excerpt from a blog post which explains more about it.

It was a physical formation which caused devastation due to its strategic and military superiority as well as its psychological impact. Fighting the Chakravyuha can be mentally damaging, but it was a combination of a deadly formation and its corresponding psychological effect that escalated Chakravyuha to its mythical level. Placement of key warriors in strategic locations could cause mental stress for incoming force significantly. The knowledge of getting trapped inside due to the rotating nature of each layer can demoralize any warrior. 
Thus, one thing is confirmed, that irrespective of its physical formation; the psychological impact of Chakravyuha was huge. Hence mostly it is understood that Chakravyuha was a deadly formation which could kill too many people in a very short span of time, and its psychological impact was extreme. 

Categories: life | 2 Comments

Scales Of Evolution


Human was not born into this world,

Only evolved from the animals we call beasts today,

Before the evolution tipped the scales,

The seas, the mountains the earth, the petals, the weeds

The shells, the sand, the morsels of life that traversed with the wind,

The earth bubbled in its serene existence with zealous purity,

The purity that a mountain spring sprinkles upon the dwellers,

Flowing sometimes stealthily,

At times flowing with an exuberant force,

Young and vibrant in search of new lands to explore,

All the forms of life, large and dynamic, shrewd and slippery,

Roaring and domineering, small and fastidious,

Lived on these streams, on those springs

They pounded the land when in need,

Their formidable yet magnificent animalistic power shook the earth

But the scales were always left balanced,

Logic, a reason that led to rise of another species,

Nameless multifarious species rather,

This age, Evolution is taking a toll as one species looses itself in a whirlwind of its own creations,

This day, this period of earth’s and its dwellers lives,

The springs, the air, the pure forces of life infected by the viral uproar,

Are drying up, worse corrupting all that it touches,

And vanquishing the purity to graveyards dug by our evolved mindlessness,

Or rather mindfully shrewd actions,

Foolish we are to think our time immortal,

Trapped we are in the science we harrowed out from this earth,

Entangled we are in our own traditions and thoughts,

Thoughts that were led by reason once are today shackled by the lack of it,

As we abhor change, obnoxiously pride ourselves on our social systems,

As we evolve into what evolution had never fathomed possible.

It’s time to rename ourselves,

Unless we let the springs sprinkle us again,

Clean the dirt, the marsh,

We assimilate, we mellow down,

We withdraw and loosen our adamant sense of ownership,

We melt the shackles of power,

Mold the molten steely power into the axe that could bring to surface our former self

Or make it the magical ingredient,

An ingredient added in potions drunk by us to turn into the personification of godliness,

A godliness that is stirred with drops of devil’s blue blood to tip the scale towards a balance.

Let’s reach, let spiral back to the point of incidence of human and beast.

Categories: amibiguity, change, Economic Disparity, education system, emotions, expressions, feminism, Hypocricy, life, life, mindset, Moralizing, poetry, poetry on life, re-birth, re-incarnation, silence, society, soul, the mind | 2 Comments

Looking For something, Am I?


Looking for something, am I?

No, no, what can I be looking for,

I am here; all I need is here,

Ain’t that true?

What are we looking for?

Are we looking for anything at all?

Or are we, am I staring into a space,

Hoping to find something, anything at all,

I find so many things, but I still find don’t find anything at all,

They all, all that I find shrinks into the mud,

Or dissipates and gets sucked away into another time zone,

Oh I see this, do I? He seems to have found it,

What is it that he has found? How does he know?

He just knows, you say; then of course it’s inside him,

Oh can’t I also have it, no, no it’s uniquely built for him,

To have it, you have to steal him; you can’t do that now can you?

I can’t do that; of course not,

Or you have to; I have to be him,

Now why would I do that?

Am I supposed to be looking for something?

I am just seeing it, and I want it all,

Or nothing at all,

Yes I want nothing at all, all of it, it’s too much pain

But nothingness, I am empty,

 Gosh I am hungry for hunger

Give me back my food, my pain, my apricot of emotions

Give me back what I never had,

How can I miss something I never had?

Yes, bizarre that is, why do tears flow outwards?

I never had it,

If I had it, was it from within me?

If so, then dear nobody can take it,

And if it went amiss, tears would flow inwards,

You and I would quench our thirst with it, wouldn’t we?

Am I confusing you lasses?

You see I am in a puddle, questions questioning themselves,

Am I here to look for something? Or do I just see it,

See, and not want it,

Am I to fill myself, am I not already full?

Or am I to empty myself and fill and empty and refill?

Do you see what I am looking for? Do you see at all?

Hope your eyes are not inwards,

Or is that the best way to see? The rest is just viral corruption?

Looking for something, am I?

Categories: amibiguity, emotions, expressions, life, poetry, poetry on life, silence, soul, the mind | 2 Comments


Write about it? Why would I do that? You said yourself writing bought you solace. Yeah, well,Didn’t bring anybody else any solace. I wasn’t any good.
No one need ever read it, You could always burn it.
What would I write about? anything whatever brings you peace a memory, a thought, a place, Write it down.. a place?- The great Gatsby
I could write about anything as I see it, about eyes,about loneliness, strife born both within and without the sense of what is within ,about pain, love, loss, power and a myriad of emotions. I could write about the ocean of pain we wade through, float on, or i could write about flying above this pain. I could write about the beauty in all its forms. Yes I could write act of making love, of course, the moments when man, woman assume an existence, each in the most primal and beautiful form.


The morning sun awakens from a reverie a world,                                                        

 A world asleep at the surface,                                                                                                  

 Yet alive at its core,

A core, a bosom that hides, that carries dreams, desires, hopes,                    

 Hopes that dance, meet their lovers,                                                                                  

  Feed that glaring emptiness with more hopes,

Hopes of a never yet felt fulfillment,

    A fulfillment that the soul ever craved for,                                                                     

 Sought it with a gusto unseen in another life form,

A fulfillment that ever remains unsatiated,                                                            

Take the unfathomable form of nightmares,                                                  

Our fears awaken dreary demons,

We see the demons within us reflected,                                                              

Reflected in the in the unearthly spirits ploughing our nights,        


Yet the nights dark at the periphery,                                                                                    

 Are illustrated with colors and prophecies,                                                          

Picturesque images of lands yet untouched,                                                                

 Not encroached by the brightness of the day,

Grotesque redness of our fears,                                                                                          

keeps the adrenaline thumping in our veins,                                                                      

The sparks ignited by the fears have never been more compelling and honest,

Yet we, breathless mates fresh from the enticing night,                                                  

 We  find ourselves breathing safely in the light,                                                            

  Fearing our nights, retreating into blinding light are we?

Or are we mortals escaping on a escapade, exodus,

Eloping into a world opaque to the rising sun

Grasping the hand,

Making love with our eyes to our eternal,

Immortal true selves.



I find solace now.

P.S- I was not sure about a name for the poem.

Categories: life, life, poetry, soul | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Cave of Delirium

The urge to fight evaporates,

Turns to smoke trapped in closed cave

A cave whose walls are impenetrable by another,

Another than the spirit where resides the cave,

Or does the cave host the spirit?

Spirit only an inhabitant, seeking shelter,

Only to end up hostage..

What one makes, one procreates,

It takes over the maker,

Imbibes and savors the power to bind the maker,

Slave it or set it free,

Unless the maker stays the keeper of the cave,

 Standing at edge between the two worlds,

One outside and the other within, a perfect osmosis

It’s a cave of delirium,

The spirit’s exploits and endeavors,

Deeds and misdeeds, take a toll,

Reason and logic, intuition and emotion burn,

diffuse to take a form of their own,

One starts evolving, twisting and turning to define the other,

Playing a game to delude the spirit,

keeping it trapped in the deadly spiral of its own illusions,

Smoke only gets denser,

 As the keeper now shackled in the mid air is choking,

Choking on vapors,

Vapors rising from the fire of its own creation of ruins,

 In its own cacophony, crackling noise,

That deafens it, shoving aside any shadow of sanity,

As the spirit that lit the fire, stares at it delving deep,

Searching for a way out to the other side, outside a hopeful reality,

A moment of epiphany,

The only way out is it to burn in the pier till there isn’t a pier to burn,

The cave of delirium, it holds no ground, burns with the keeper, the spirit

A spirit is immortal; it takes birth from the ashes to reincarnate into another rendition.

Categories: amibiguity, crazy, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, life, mindset, poetry, poetry on life, re-birth, re-incarnation, silence, society, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Would You?

If I whispered your name

Would you trace it back to me?

Back to me amidst the melodious chirping of many voices,

Voices that tilt your attention hither-thither,

Will the music in my whisper,

And desire in its breathless tone enrapture you?


I am what you see in my eyes,

If you ever cared to look,

If you ever blinked twice as you saw me,

If my eyes talked to you,

Would you grasp the letters that they formed?

             Would you let them read to your mind a letter from a far off soul?


A soul that knows you not, yet knows your breath,

A soul that strings you not, yet follows your scent,

Would you let this simpleton’s soul touch your very magnanimous one?

Would you let me come close to see the trick of light that hides your soul, your tears?

Hide it beneath those very dark, tenaciously guarding yet honest lashes,

Eyes that tell riveting tales of thee, free soldier’s soulful musings.

Categories: life | 5 Comments

Morsel to Creeper to tree

A morsel of life is sown,

 The life of a dream, a wish, a desire,

The life wheezes, it lies amidst potholes,

Potholes dug by drudgery of the host’s journey,

The morsel is fed and watered,

It inhales the air of its path

But when suddenly the morsel’s creator disappears

When he himself condemns the morsel,

Betrayed the morsel dies,

But the roots, the weed can they die to?

The morsel is gone, but the roots are creepers

They creep upwards though their own steam,

The morsel is missed

The weed finds that no more it needs the morsel,

A life is wheezing again, but it ain’t dried up.

Someday soon the creeper will defy its nature

Shoot up from within,

Pulling the weed, shaping it into a tree.

Categories: life | 2 Comments

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