darkness

Etching On.

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Etching Patterns of thoughts on the papyrus of our mundane lives..

Designs we croon into the ear of our twin incarnation..

Curved stretches curbing across the mounts..the will, the wish..

Binding with the harsh breath..mellow at times.. juggling at times..

Strolling across to plot a breathless life..

 

Stumble over potholes dug by our own soles, Hasn’t thee rolled over, traced back, and strutted along then?

Yet the path of etched drawls back and forth scuttering on..

Inking on.. smug.. or giggly.. dreadful or greedy.. smiling through the blots of ink..

In hope in faith.. for trusting to be bound by fate.. we etch on..

 

A kind samaritan spinning the fate.. whispering incantations to string fate to wish..

A mildly fulfilled soul springs along.. sketching butterflies..

And yet then. droplets of pain blotch the ink just along the curve..

 

Words lack depth one might say.. as the heart fails to siphon strings of syllables

Wishing to only tell stories of memorable cons, fortitudes.. innocence and love..

How often has thy samaritan hidden in the cave of doubt?

How often does thee ponder of ways to escape the designs?

Trapped in thy own breath, memories and desires..?

 

Or did the benign fisherman row thee  across?

I think he did.. didn’t he?

Anew bridge..anew sketch..

Anew binding of faith and fate..as thee etches on..

 

P.S- Random thoughts, random sketch as I try to drown myself in something mundane.

 

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, answers, art, blogging, courage, darkness, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, freedom, fun, HOPE, life, living, loss, love, love oneself, memories, poetry, poetry on life, poetry on love, soul, strength, struggle, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Can one feel what that child does?

Image result for child in war

A child sits amidst the dust, asbestos, rubble

Eyes sunk into self.. yet wide and devoid of the tremors of death brewing within..

To be born into a life wielding no power,

But the love rendered by the womb and palm of the protector..

And at a sudden instant swept into smoke and fire,blood splattered of the power he knew..

Can one feel what that child does? A wait for god he once knew and had..

A shell of dark fear, dread, turmoil, torn life asphyxiates the beating heart…

And child chokes within.. clinging to nothing..

Suffering from plague inflicted by the cacodemons, men on his land..

Their horrendous misogynistic hunger for blithe innocence..

Draining the pulp of life and reveling in the numb pain diffused in the air..

The helios  of hope brutally shred.. flesh from bones..And yet not a tear shed..

For none are left to touch.. none can touch his moment…

 

From my window I see the rays flit through the blinds..

Their intensity simmered by the glass shield..

I see a sight peaceful.. sodden warmth,

The light breeze like music.. as the leaves flutter to its tune..

Sparrows titter.. shuffle between the green symphony..

I hear not… but eyes watch the music..as though notes scripted in the moments..

As though soft silence speaks.. spelling solace and hope..

Almost unreal.. The winds carry not a smear of pain..

The pain for the flow of the nature’s elements is null..

Or maybe it feels pain.. in the bloodied water and coagulate breath.

But not here.. its uncannily calm for a world trifled and drowning in pain..

Its a surreal, eerie balance that soothes not the heart..

Burden of pain outweighs the mass of solace..

 

 

Categories: CHILDREN, darkness, HOPE, human rights, INNOCENCE, life, loss, poetry on life, society, struggle | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Man needs man

There is no one to beat you..no one to defeat you ,except the thoughts of your self feeling bad.. Words of song by bob Dylan.

I have tried to imbibe these but have failed quite a few times…passed, but failed too.. I try to express that somehow.. how much ever I strive to be a lone wolf .. man needs man.. and feelings can not be fought.. only felt and past.. and in the end we do feel the same.. and that itself binds us together however alone we might feel..

Like in the jungle book:The strength of the pack is the wolf…and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

 

Bad for self.. about self.. feeling guilt.. remorse..

The red and black bitter serum..

how much can one fill in a jar..

the brim would be nudged..and then taken over..

mind control is a daring game..

ain’t for all..

but a subtle and slow manipulation of self…

Like gripping the wheel and steering the ship…

as gusts of wind blow and waves topple over one another.

but how do u know which mind to save yourself from and which mind to embrace..

 

Yet a master captain.. fosters a crew.. a family..

Bound by trust…

None can steer alone..

When living the days on thy own deck…

wading through waters that surround every eye raving the sea..

And resting at foreign ports..

One stands hand in hand.. shoulder to shoulder with a comrades by side..

 

I try to slash away the doubts.. I try to right my wrongs..

Yet I falter always..

But I shall hope that my comrades are by my side..

 

Desert a myriad of breathing sand..

Morsels sinking into one another..

Minuscule particles in friction.. yet in synchronized turbulence…

What I feel,you feel… as I am, you are..at different turn we take with winds…

Sand in solidarity would be of what essence? If not a bound to the desert?

Was the desert born as a whole? Does sand give meaning to the desert or desert to the sand?

sand derives its purpose from the desert.. from the dunes.. from the clusters..

So does man.. friend I say not in desperation but in my wishful way..

That man needs man.. And I need your shoulder and your warm friction and vibrant turbulence my friend..

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: darkness, emotions, expressions, life | Tags: , , , , , | 5 Comments

Musings on time

Image result for time

A grey sheath of stagnant silence…

Soluble darkness..

Dissolution into the surreal flow of night..

Punctured..embellished by the notion of time..

 

Rioting mind muses on..

Only the tick-tock of a mundane clock..

Piercing, distracting.. the still flow..

Ripples of time.. penetrating the mum..

The curve of a ripple postulates a moment..

The tick enunciating the bend..a crisp of time..

 

As life strolls in the direction unknown..

And shreds life into the passage past..

Like the leaves of deciduous tree..

Speaks through the crumpling murmurs of it..with it..it the mind..

The mind.. voices pivoting into their own helix..

It wonders..saunters into realms unbound..

“How can time be still, flow and yet wither away?”

A dimensionless entity.. like the surreal night..

Only absorbed and imprinted on the mind..

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, answers, darkness, life, light, memories, poetry, questions, the mind, time | Leave a comment

Random… Pride..self.. love?the fever.

The burden we call love could easily be hate..

The need to be needed.. the want to be wanted..

The fetal position of the grieving soul..

The penchant for ownership of the soul..

Too weary to follow.. too old to know where it is to be.. where it is to summon itself, to its home?

 

The haughty madam beneath the simpleton..Prays to avenge her pride..

Ain’t she a felon herself?

The girl who pounced in her father’s arms..prays to be set free..

The laughter that kindled her eyes.. the soft lines of nifty smile..

Muffled and ironed beneath the pains of frightful wars fought in her heart…

 

In the end when bones brittle crumple.. and flesh melts..

The hearts surge with combative pain..

Left are two souls lost.. facing  walls grounded on either sides..

The mirror reflecting the ugliness of it all..

In thy own eyes.. the glass shows black..

Pride is harrowing in the pits its own dungeons..

 

Ohh.. the  depths of ditches we dive into..

The sins we commit in the name of love..

Sinful of hateful acts towards self.. and then towards the other..

What is love but a roped..tangled path..

Curious pull.. one strolls and then the moments dribble away..

One is siphoned..tipsy into another Moonlit forest.. another home…

Aren’t you lost yet?

 

Where do you turn when the bridges you built are trampled upon..

Fallen beneath the sea of distance…

When human made altercations.. distractions..  steal the good.. gnarl it from your grasp..

Turn away from home.. to find that you have none..

And only the dungeons and pits.. fraught with felons of your heart..

Where shall you find your freedom now?

Who shall row you back to the haven you once knew?

How shall thee save thyself from distraught nature of thy heart?

Where shall thee find thy home.. thy solace and salvation?

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, crazy, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, loss, lost, love, memories, poetry, poetry on love | 3 Comments

Darkness and light.. their ways

Darkness and light.. their ways

The ways dark, blackness put you at ease,

You stand on that road, amidst the yellow,, greying forest..

And the wolfish clouds threaten, a low rumble.. the night is here before time..And it will now drench in past waters..

You swam across that river.. dried it is now, 

But as you stare into the black space.. the rain splash.. your skin sucks it in..Like marsh would suck you in..

Drops cling to the lashes,, and you are blinded by your past waters..

The darkness… the pain.. is so familiar.. and so soothing..

Though your breath is siphoned and locked in your mind….

You only have to stand still…and let the clouds resurrect the pain.. the stings of the vines..the thorns.. the bone shattering edges.. 

In the darkness… no one can see you.. and you can see nothing but the blackness that infuses into you.. invades your mind.. 

And the longer you stood there.. and the oftener you stalled in your stroll.. the deeper the watery drugs would sink into you.. and you would sink into them..as though you are only afloat..

But to be at ease in the light..is the real test..

Light is trickery.. Darkness is just darkness..and the knowing this serves your restless mind no sleep..no peace..

You stand on the sun fed..shadow deprived road.. the shadows barely cross the hedges..

You are on the spin wheel and the road stretches ahead.. you stand on tiptoes.. walk on tiptoes..

But you see only as much as is reflected in your eyes..

You are heading into the unknown… beyond the horizon..

At each step autumn leaves.. decaying flowers.. lay abandoned on your path..

A new fragrance.. a flimsy rotten stench maybe.. a new sight…

anew sensations.. aspiration.. forbidden yet clawing thoughts… beautiful yet astray thoughts..

Words and anew renditions of your mind..stories spun rise to your throat..

And though your lips quiver.. and your throat is hoarse… you must tell those stories..

You must take that bus.. to that unknown place which was framed only in your mind..

The ease of light.. is that you see.. but you see not all…

The ease of darkness.. you reside in your mind’s darkened well…

You live in comfort of known agony,

Safe within the walls.. whose artistic nuisances and cracks your eyes know well.. they ain’t cracking new cracks..

You are at ease with pain.. the sting with each lash of a drop..

The ease of light.. you walk through the minds of time and universe..

You live not slight.. but you live to see much more of the yards that time spins..

Not swinging at that roman numerical.. not revising as you swing back and forth..

But swing into a parallel universe at every click.. embracing the heated love.. or the frosty foe.

Categories: darkness, life, light, poetry, strength | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

India’s Daughter

India’s Daughter- It leaves you shaking. Nothing that you don’t know or haven’t heard. But listening to those bloody Non-Living beings (do words exist? words for them can’t exist) who unfortunately think and breathe and live, it makes you feel empty inside, the brutality, those thoughts, the ideas. You feel no hope, you know there is not a chance that eradication of evil will ever be a reality, all we can do is prevent, heal, punish. Because there is no cause, a need for power that has crossed the line of need and is just a habit, rape and abuse is a habit, brutality is a habit, yeah, imagine that, no cause for that makes any sense.

Now that’s a very good documentary, how in the devil’s name does it corrupt our culture, how is it insensitive for a culturally sensitive society to be watching the film. Talking about rape, its effects, the thought process that supports and instigates it, how can that be culturally insensitive, dumb, plain dumb.

First of all, at the risk of sounding like a completely confused 21st century young adult, what is our culture again? Is it about tolerance, respect, upholding ideals, or what, just dancing on durga puja and ganesh festivals, talk about destruction of evil, protection, women power, ghar ki lakhsmi and blah blah.. Yeah right let’s never talk about the culture of rape and abuse to make sure our ego is never deflated, Lets sweep that under the mat, keep it locked behind doors and let the acts thrive on the mats behind the locked doors. The awesome façade of Indian culture, lets keep that up.
I am sure the good of our culture does pervade into certain streets, into certain homes and certain arenas of our life, but lets face it, we are hardly ever tolerant in our everyday life towards other’s thoughts, towards change,we like deciding what the another must to do with his or her life. And that never helps build a society which is a safety net for not only women but those to whom life shows its ugliest face. I talk about our community cause I that’s all I have experienced.

But why is it so difficult to talk about the real evil, the squirming worms in the minds of so many and the stinky words that leave their tongues. Why not watch that, acknowledge that, accept that.Why not rip off those tongues?
If I had my way, I would make sure the judges not only lost their jobs, and if not have them hung at least make sure they ended up in one of the jails with the best of the brutal criminals who have crossed all limits with men and women. They could talk with them about our Indian culture then and how its no place for a woman,lets see how long it saves them,..enjoy you”%$2$@$”!

Yeah sounds like revenge, but peace can only get you only so far. Laws-please have them define human before applying them to human beings. The idea is not to follow an ideal, it is to save lives, realize the value of a “human” life and act upon it. If intervention at an early age through education can nurture the minds, can save those ones who are broken and are on the edge or are about to cross over to a path from from where there is no return, save them, heal those who need the healing but drown those who actually deserve death, painful death in lava.

Categories: change, criminals, darkness, documentary, feminism, human rights, India, india's daughter, life, rape | Tags: , , , , | 3 Comments

The Reflection in Thy eyes

Tell me do you love me.. tell me..

Tilt that sinful nape, that sweet chin,

Look into my eyes and speak the words that embrace your heart in  solitary despair,

That are clutched by claws, that are floating in the sea of  your blasphemous cravings,

 

I mumble..

I know not..I know not.. I know nothing of love..

But I drench in the words that sway from your eyes,

I folly to walk astray into the fog where your scent drugs my senses,

I forget the windows that shatter light upon us,

My thirst for you caressed by your unearthly beauty,

 

But moments are still only in the moment,

They was past before my lips could part,

And have withered now into lost causes,

I speak words to hide my shadows of rising sensations,

I speak tongues to tell tales wrapped in lines of desolate poetry,

All from my crest of lone recitations,

You ask not, I remain mum,

 

You know not the soul me,

Yet your touch lies here like dew drops on a leaf, You sink in,

The desire, a remembrance stinging like whip on flesh.

Its a string unstrung that tugs me, I fall into you,

 

Tell me your pain, tell me your desires,

Let me flip the pages,

Let me read the lines imprinted beneath your soul’s ledger,

Let me caress your soul as you rest on my bosom,

 

I know not…I know not.. I know nothing of love,

Moments foregone, are crisp memories,

And immerse the heart in the quest for a song,

A song that synch’s with its beat,

Hum’s in the soul’s tongue of its melancholy desires,

A song it finds, but with words that speak no answers,

That tell nothing of the questions that swim,

Swim in the reflection of my soul, only in thy eyes

 

Categories: amibiguity, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, life, love, memories, Music, poetry, poetry on life, silence, soul, the mind, time | Tags: , , | 10 Comments

Cocoon of Freedom

Do you become what you hate?

Do you become what you love?

Or do you only love what you can’t become?

Or do you love only your reflection in every grain of sand?

What we carve our souls into, is already a mould,

It has thorns, it has nails, and it leeches onto the images our eyes clasp onto,

Every crisp notion of existence I have was a haze before,

It lay stale, rotting in the fungus that was fed to my mind,

At a time when the world I fathomed to exist, existed in only patterns of right and wrong,

And I chose to clutch the trailing thoughts of others,

I stuttered to express what I did not understand,

 I raveled myself in which I bludgeoned myself to believe,  

 

 A ferry waited at the end of my dying stammering self,

One fateful night I met the night guard at the bank,

He asked me if I wanted to crossover then, morning the ferry would be gone,

I collected the shattered pieces of my mind; some jagged ends bled my soul,

On the way I tripped on the tightly laced shoes,

 Then left them near the old tree from where hung ragged clothes, masks and shoes,

Barefoot, I got onto the ferry and set off to the other side,

To find missing pieces of my mind,

To be in presence of those colors of light,

 As the beams passed by my soul, images under the veiled reality would form,

Focusing from infinity to a my finite existence, a surreal view,

Yet an existence where my soul could breathe and could trace the waves,

The curved turbulence that sounded the hymns and curses sung by own mind,

Mindlessness was a destructive interference of rays trapped in a cottage,

 Walls camouflaged by words scripted by others,

I burnt it down, but the fire still crackles, smoke still blows in the wind,

 

A rusted bridge, a path appears every fortnight,

 A path back to the village of my dying thoughts,

Though much gibberish, mutters my mind, and obscure images, see my eyes,

I shan’t climb that bridge,

Heart is a nomad, but it resides in this land now,

Though tormented by the unknown, it is enlightened,

 But the ground is slippery, is cracked and heated, feet are sore and blistered, and nights are chilly,

Yet the solitude is comforting,

 As my fixation with my baffling shell of infinite reality is my cocoon of freedom.

 

Categories: change, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, love, love oneself, memories, mindset, poetry, poetry on life, questions, re-incarnation, soul, the mind, time | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

The Venom

To feel is to writhe in your grave, as though knives slice through your flesh,

And to not is to suffocate silently,

To surrender is to be trapped in the devil’s claws, he who chains your soul to the vile mind of love,

And keeps clinking and slashing to remind you of its existence,

He light’s your fire, through dusk and dawn,

But you burn in the pyre alone,

The black rose between its teeth, the blue between its claws,

Don’t look at it, the human soul is weakened and the devil call’s,” let me bite you”,

You are whole and yet hollow, you are ripped and your skin splattered on the cracked earth you stand,

You have sunk to the ground to piece the pieces, and you find them laden with venom from the devil,

Touch them, and blisters your skin and flashes of eyes blind you, and you are no more existing on your earth,

You are faint as fragmented pieces of your mind quench your thirst with murky water from the dark well,

Hollow and full, pain stings and knots and strangles, each breath you take, and the poison eases in a little more,

There is no escape, there is no end, die suffocating or writhing, its your choice,

it is the only way you know to live,

Jailed under the earth, where none can find you, where none can see you,

None remember you because none know you,

You breathe in only the the stench, it tells you that you are indeed alive,

Squeeze the poison out and you drown in it, in your cellar,

Can you swim in it, blistered,

You have to, my sweet, you have to die, die, die, swim and froth with venom,so that you can live.

Categories: darkness, emotions, expressions, life | Tags: , , , | 10 Comments

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