About Me

December 22, 2013

Incomplete Verses

A broken leaf, which reminded me of myself as much as you.
An unfinished song.
Few plans, of coloring the sky.
A photo of a foggy winter night.
A smile on my face of finding someone 
who knows the cracks on the wall.
A promise of a painting you'll draw.

These, you've left behind.
Tell me before I close that door,
What shall I do with them?

December 18, 2013


I'm a traveler,
of distances in length
and memories.

I'm a weaver,
of stories untold,

I'm a dreamer,
and all day I dream
of a man living in a green forest
inside a thin cardboard box with 23 pinholes
from where the sun slips in.

I'm the ancient heretic,
for my ideas don't go well with the present world.

I travel,
I dream,
I weave and
I seek out
those, who understand
the beauty, of insanity.

December 9, 2013

A Serenade for the Girl Far Far Away

I don't wanna lie awake,
I want to dream about you,
remember that feeling
to have you in my arms.

I haven't taken off your kiss
from the nape of my neck.
It reminds me of a touch so gentle.
The sweetest gift I could ever have.

I don't have remorse
that you are not here for now.
For there is something
that connects my heart,
to your heart. And I know,
distances in space don't matter,
for you are always close
for you are always in my heart.

Its greater than the strength of will
and all the forces of nature combined together,
the love that I've, for you.
All the memories of us together
stand witness to it.
And 'tis so grand-
it embraces the world around me.

So I don't feel alone.
Cos I got you,
in my mind, in my sight
for tonight;
And for every night that follows.


PS: There is a deep sense of calmness I get in love.

November 29, 2013

The Old Woman of the Hills

It was in one of those lucid dreams
Where I met the old woman of the hills.

She didn't speak much,
she just did what an old lady ought to do
to live alone on top of a mountaintop.
I was a visitor to her place
so I preferred abiding by her ways.
But while she was tendering fire
to prepare dinner for the night,
she told me about her cow and the elder son.
the cow,she said just stood all day
and did what a cow ought to do.
Whereas the elder son, she said
has flown astray with the winds
that came on the first winter night.
And that's why she was here
on the top of a mountaintop
waiting for his homecoming.
She had been there alone,
Lost in time, in mind and in her own world
She waited for something that might never return.

But while her mere presence
evoke within me, many a great epiphanies
and her story spoke of a lore I had heard once before,
I couldn't prevent myself from looking beneath her wrinkled skin-
For I saw memories (manifested in physical form)
that had taken shelter there, on her being.
And thus I said, 'Unto you, the world has ceased
for you are the keeper of time and of memories,
distant and distinct. Yet you are unbeknown to it.
Like a wheel knows not why to roll,
you are the one around whom the world revolves.
yet you shalt be unaware of it all.
It's the cross you chose to bear
It is something only few have the courage to bear
and even lesser few were worthy to be asked to bore."

"As I stand near this ancient fallen tree
by the top of a mountaintop
I see water streams rising upwards,
on that waterfall yonder
it is, indeed, a wonderful sight
but I'm certain, I'm not the perpetrator behind it;
and yet it is my dream.
Must it be your presence then,
that defy the basic run of things?"

Upon saying that I felt
a drop, oceanic deep
falling inside my disjointed ears.
and I saw a white beam of light infront of my eyes 
Right where She, the timekeeper stood.
She had shed her corporeal form,
and her voice pierced through my mind,
"Like you, I'm too a traveler,
but I cover distances not in length
but in memories and time.
And I needed something to hold on to;
A purpose in life.
and hence I feel
How happy is an empty vessel's lot
for there is nothing for one to forgot."

And it seemed like the fabric of time was stretched apart,
because it all happened too slow,
yet it all happened within a second
Because the very next moment I was awake
plugged back to life from a distant place
and Ironically, all I was left with, was memory
of the keeper of memories and time;
who waits for her lost son;
on the top of a mountaintop;
She might have been called many names before
but for me she'll always be, 
The Old Woman of the Hills.

Old Post. New Art.

Words drawn to life by: Udit

October 3, 2013

Chronicles of First Sons of Rebellions

"... next up on playlist is a special request from Rehtaeh of Halifax. It has been quite some time since this one is played on air. Considering the status quo, I don't wonder why. The world doesn't stop falling apart, yet what amazes me is the determination of people to fight off all the melancholy and gremlin of society. It is this trait of man that I salute to. This is Rebel FM and our next song is Redeemer's Sunshine by Shadow Town..."


The other day I was walking through busy market alleys
Women thronged the shops and men mobbed the lanes
Everyone seems occupied in their lives in their cocoons.
Everyone. Except me.
The Crusader of free spirit.
Where doth the moss grow?
I shall go there.

Scurrying through the crowd,
I exchanged glances with a grey-beard man
Few tatters and torns held his dignity
within the expectations of the dwellers

within the limits of civility expected from civilized dwellers
Of this noble city made from blood of her noble people.

The grey-beard man stood still.
In the middle of this ocean of life.
Life, (if it could be termed as such)
which was hysterically attracted
to material, both intangible and fleshed.

We exchanged a dialogue,
Him and I:
"What's the commotion all about?"
'The carnival is coming', I screamed,
as I waded through a stream of men to reach the man.
"Isn't it already here?"
'No, It doesn't seem so. I expect it to be more pompous',
I admitted coyly to the frail, old man
who had humbly welcomed me
with his arms wide enough to embrace the whole world.

"I've heard your dialect before.
Were you ever to part from your flock?"

'No, I'm a lonewalker.
I'm yet to be indoctrinated to material life.
And I feel my jargon,
if there may such be,
would have to defy geographical lengths
to call itself a Communion.'

He shrugged me with a hearty laugh and called me naive.
Then he prepared me for a question he wanted to ask the first person who would talk with him.
Questions of the world don't bother me.
It's those answers that I seek does.
So I, as humbly as I could, agreed.

Q: If you are to given a choice
between the two-
the fundamentalist and the choker,
who would you choose
to orchestrate the carnival?

A: I'll choose the fundamentalist,
he is a performer of sorts
he'd atleast have some acts lined up.
He'll be prim & proper.
He'll be ready to entertain the expectant crowd.
Regardless of his methods,
howsoever extreme they may be.

"Alas! What choice does this country of noble men have anyway?"
The old man replied with a tinge of a satirical smile,
The Shrewed One he was called henceforth
amongst other worthy monikers entitled to him.

His appearances was of a beggar,
It reflected his rejection of the society.
He was a defunct in the system of order;
Gremlin branded in a troop of saints.
Maybe because he knew the flaws too well.
Maybe he had exposed them to those who could either mend or exploit them.

"...Annihilation of reason, propagation of incomplete knowledge
laws of currency replace laws of nature; prejudice of people;
nation blinded by hypnotists performing rituals on screen;
the house of evolution overseen by capitalist regimes;
religion divides people, people divide power.
While in truth, Power covertly rules all.
Even the ones who owns it.

Our nation is scared of the consequences;
of change. Our people are meek", said he,The Propagandist.
"Ignorance might be thy bliss,
O Unconscious One!
But for a man who knows everything,
It's a nightmare raised to life.

I speak for men, for I'm one of them.
And my words are often silenced.
Yet I speak, for those few who shall harbor my words,
and they will know until death,
that I condemn the disease and not the carrier of disease."

His unkempt appearance failed to rob the clarity of his thoughts.
The Thinker he was and his words were like hymns of gods of mortals for mortals.

"Rather than the whole,
we think more of the self.
Man shall realize that what is I?
But just a cog in the wheel
An offspring that thrives in the cradle of Nature.
But he has mistaken himself as the ruler of world.
He now exploits The Mother for his follies.
He has built his world deprived of natural spirits.

But an insulated kingdom brings no trade,
For an individual shall only co-exist
in the company of identical spirits of its non-identical brethren.
Together they shall all thrive in abundance,
and rejoice in material and spiritual acumen
underneath the hearty bosoms of Mother Nature.
Yet, if disjointed, the house of cards shall fall"

The discourse of The Ancient Seer
felt like seraphic notes
of the Horns of Babylon
His words steered my roving mind
and anchored it where it belonged.

A path was laid,
The All-Knowing Navigator would sail the boat,
and the mark of his wisdom shall behest upon me.
I'll be The Propagator,
the harbinger of the holy shadow of The Great Wise One
His many virtues shall trickle through my veins onto men.
Seekers, they shall be called.
And I shall sought the answers they look for.
And I shall seek answers from Him
for all the questions of my own.

'You fight the world but I fight the mind.
You've found your sanctuary right in the middle of chaos.
Whereas I who wanders about, carry only chaos inside.
Show me the doors that I must not open now,
For my innocence might better my sense of reason.
Lead me through the path,
for my boat is lost without you.
My Lord Master,
I'll be your humble servant.
The one who shalt wipe
thy feet & thy hands
with tears of rejoice,
when the burden of men
shall you take onto thyself."

"You amuse me, O curious child.
Our destination maybe one,
But the paths could be many.
Your path may differ from mine
But that shall not always mean
That you won't reach there."
Saideth he, with a brilliance of thousand suns in his smile.
The Radiant Prince.

"Yet I will carry you along.
Long distances we shall cover in dialogue.
For there is sunshine in many dark corners
but scattered glints don't stroke the fire
upon which valorous men ride
and turn the tide on the history of mankind.

We must reach them all and call them our own
and we must all be kinsmen.
For together we shall change the path of humanity
We shall burn the holy scripts
possessed by those who were born with its possession;
We shall burn the scriptures
that divide men and their wisdom;
We shall burn the paper
that grasps the laws of nature by its throat;
and we shall burn the currency which doesn't exist"
We must bring order to the world,
Lest all shall perish.

And Thus arose The Leader,
The Emphatic One,
somewhere from the low rung underbelly of a rotting city.
And thus began Zarathustra's down-going.
It was then,
The First Sons of Rebellions were awoken.

August 22, 2013

Basic Method of Attaining Intangibility of Being

Get rid of condensed voices in mind.
Concentrate at the sky above you.

There is a Cosmic black velvet adorned by a singular great white drop. 
A man-like form yonder peeks through it
(He Revels in the limelight.
And in the enigma of his presence over it.)

Amber fills a faraway desert,
As Time recoils in perpetuity.
The drop melts 

and with it begins,
the unfolding of a peculiar set of events.

Take a deep breath
Prepare evacuation of bodily fluids.
Life has silently trespassed.
You are on your own now.

Just as you had come
you are gone now.

This supernal space you are in is called Essential Singularity.

July 13, 2013

Reckless Dream: II

There were a thousand stars that crowded the absurd sky that night. The whole world was wonderfully lit and it seemed as if the stars had descended from above to illuminate a very tiny and insignificant part of the cosmos. The clock had stuck 2 a.m when I saw last of it. I had a dream that night.

There was a carnival going on in a faraway place and I was determined that I would go. I took a cab and followed the lights that led to the luminescent glow at the far end of the unending road.
The journey would take eternity to reach the destination we've embarked upon. It was many light years away. So I decided to take a nap as I was getting weary of the journey. It took me all of my adolescence to realize how existence is like a day’s living extended over a period of time that’s dividable in mathematical figures. It was therefore, unbelievable when I first realized that life’s true purport was to revel in the bloom that nature offers mankind at the lapse of each season. It’s an everlasting delight to take fancy in such continuous replenishment of felicity. I was absolutely elated yet filled with an obnoxious feeling of fear that held me captive under its captaincy over my feeling of infrangible bliss. There were these noticeable layers of contradictory and complementary feelings stacked together haphazardly, each one as complete and absolute as the other. I tried diverting my mind to the lights outside. But the euphoria from the dark began to creep in and transform me into some sort of a dry cold blooded reptile which scared bejesus out of me. So I opened my eyes and I looked outside the window. Suddenly wild crooked beings came leaping inside the car.

There were millions of them. Each one was to carry the burdens of my life on their frail shoulders. Those insect-like messengers from the underworld with burdening responsibilities entered through my material body. They hummed The Host of Seraphim in barren undertones as they peeled the human skin off of me. I didn't shriek in agony, there was no pain involved. It was a part of the ritual, they informed me. The cleansing of soul had begun. I was getting prepared for the confluence. 

“The entry to the carnival shall only be received and redeemed to those who are in control of the trueness and fluidness of the surroundings”, whispered one of the messengers through the glitchy electronic public announcement system as the song came to its end. I must be close, I wondered. But, then the creatures, the keepers of my mortal burden, started jumping out of the window which was open to allow fresh air to come in. They paraded out slowly, assisted by other beings, one after the other. My gaze was fixed at them as they committed a communal suicide for a common man like me. 'My responsibilities will kill so many of them', I thought. It must have taken another eternity for them to perform their task. Probably I had lived off another lifetime somewhere in a faraway universe by now. I saw the last one of them leaped off from what was now a completely clean taxi. I was so engrossed bidding those fair insects farewell that I didn't really know when the surroundings changed and shapes shifted.

The air around me had picked up a peculiar smell. It gave me the creeps as I figured that something had obstructed my olfactory sensations to work efficiently. My prognosis concluded I had acquired parosamia. I think it was because of the those spirits, I had hired for guidance. They must have distorted my nose and it could be the side-effect of the spirits that I had to bear. But my vision hadn’t blurred yet. I glanced out of my cab to take a look around. I looked into a distant event and I must impress that I had never seen something so spectacular in my entire life. 

There was an orchestra playing Stravinsky at the far end of a circle within which was contained a magnificent lot of little mermaids who performed a ballet dance for the audience seated at the stadium. The width of each tier at the stadium was carefully calculated and had exactly the same dimension as the other; the hierarchical system of authority had been abolished on strict orders. From the distance I could see the riots break out somewhere near the periphery, but it was too early for it to reveal its significance. The steps upon which the audience sat with keen eyes, were embedded with radium. The fluorescent light emitted due to some chemical, laid down clear demarcations between the three groups of audiences that consisted of creatures from three different worlds.
While I was scrutinizing this heavenly event, suddenly an intuition that the whole foundation was bound to collapse flooded my mind. I had not realized the potential of my vision yet when I began to hear shrieks and screams coming from that same distant place. I blame myself for what happened next as those poor seemingly civilized creatures from each of the three worlds who had sat relishing the dramatic act with utmost empathy for the other till now, had transformed into bloodhounds and demons of sorts. Their altruism was much talked of until my conscience intruded theirs with an interest to boost my own understanding of something quite irrelevant and unmatched to the loss and suffering I had thus inflicted onto those innocent beings. I even requested the spirits, my humble guides, to take matter in their own hands. However, they too were mere pawns in front of this mother of all anarchy.

An opinion of a stranger, a different species altogether had brought upon them the apocalypse that they had never dreamed of. Yet I was not able to digest the idea of a utopian setup where the hierarchical system could be abandoned and abolished. There was certainly a fault in the chemical structure in their brains, (which I had somehow, infiltrated and maligned with my thoughts) which was probably been mastered by a supreme power for a very long time. He may have wanted to keep them under His control. But only until now. On the contrary it led to their demise as a race, since My observation pierced through His despised Intention. The poor creatures were subjected to denial and self-effacement when they ought to have been taught to cope up with “reality”. 

The tragedy ended in complete darkness. It seemed like a dying star from the distance where I was now. 'The circle of life continues regardless of mere mortal follies and accomplishments'. For the whole setup soon became a black hole leading to infinite possibilities. As I tried to gaze into the eye of the black hole which had just been born out of my naivety, it awoke. It saw me looking and pulled me in.

I believe I was sinking down an endless kaleidoscopic void. And as I fell into this cylindrical emptiness, the pictures started to fill in the perpetually changing patterns on the walls of the void. The history of Humanity ran across my face on them walls. I learned and registered in awe everything that man had become (and everything that he couldn’t while he could have). Parallel multiverses formed as the slightest of changes unraveled themselves like fireflies flying at dark nights as this one. Time was tamed and it allowed me to go through the life of every man that will ever live. I saw the rise of Adam and his flourishing notoriety; I saw both his noble deeds and his gruesome acts of horror. But I saw both of His acts with the same eye. The eye was the light and my honest guide through this part of the journey. Every possibility played simultaneously around me inside this seraphic coil which must have only been illuminated for a selected few who had embarked towards the Carnival of Infinite Brilliance. ‘There are but few who choose the destination which you've boarded’, my driver informed me as if he had a microphone fitted in my brain which had sensed my thoughts. The world outside had turned completely blank exactly when we reached the Present. I tried to give a nod of approval to my cosmic charioteer but my head felt like a stone. I realized I had lost control over my body, save the photo-receptors cells of the eye and the brain which were still in my command. Because I had also thought of utilizing the timely break in the unfolding of surroundings to lift myself and allow myself a better view of the walls of the portal but I couldn't move. 

I couldn't even budge an inch and I was trying to be as inconspicuous as I can in my movement but the driver surprisingly sensed my struggle everytime. He persuaded me to try and relax. I didn't pay much attention to him as I was busy dealing with my physical inconvenience when he spoke again, ‘On this part of the journey, bodily involvement is unneeded . Calm down and just keep your eyes open.’ As I was listening to him it occurred to me that my auditory organs had also been non-functional ever since we were gulped down this Portal of Frozen Time. I couldn't have realized had he even been speaking to me, as I was apparently deaf. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even seen his face! He had always been driving and looking ahead. Yet the voice I heard was clear and recognizable to an extent that I could give it a name. The driver had been frozen like me and there was no one else except him and me. I started to feel a bit awry of him and although he had brought us well so far, this detour wasn't necessary. This inconvenience wasn't desired. I decided to shrug off the voices. Mind must have been tired of the on-flow of Infinite Knowledge. It must have gone haywire, I assumed. I continued to try to move myself. I wanted a clear view of the outside and I had to be quick to avoid missing the forthcoming visual commentary that could begin any moment. For I’d figured, They would show the future.

Although I couldn't have calculated the time it took to move myself, the laws of space and time were
as imaginary a thought as the one I was in. But it sure seemed like another eternity. And all I could manage
in this vast time-span was to wiggle the pinky of my left foot. I didn't miss anything though. They didn't start until I was ready. It was part of the plan because I realized that as soon as the pinky moved- 
Because colors flew all around us. Disarrayed; violent. They started to wrap me up and I could do nothing about it. The riot of colors formed a vortex with the outlet focused on me. 'They are attracted to your mortal remains', announced the driver or whatever it was in my head. He spoke after long I realized. They started to crawl inside my body, slithering through the veins and every inch of my molecule. At one point I was made of nothing but colors. But I could only see, like a spectator in awe and horror. A rush of hues of vibrant colors sparkled and curled inside me and slowly started to rise towards my head. I couldn't have known how I was looking until the driver adjusted his rear-view mirror to look at me. It was the first time he moved ever since this pilgrimage had begun. Maybe the colors aroused his curiosity or it was a staged move, I would never know. Nevertheless, what I saw was as bizarre as everything else that I've encountered in this strange journey. For I saw myself looking at The Ancient Reptile of Thousand Colors and it was creepy. But it was not the end of it because it got worse when I realized the Ancient Reptile was Me and the driver was I.

Terrified as I was with my own image in the mirror, I thought of jumping out of the moving vehicle which was in fact making me claustrophobic now. I could move myself now, or whatever remains of Me inside the Ancient Reptile of Thousand Colors. I needed to breathe. When I looked at my hideous visage, I realized that I must have been out of breath since the reptile suit engulfed my form. I could feel my lungs contract every time I tried to take a deeper breath. I paused and sat back in my seat. I closed my eyes and saw the devil approve my long pending petition, written in about a hundred words and successfully describing all the necessary clauses as to what should happen if I crossed the boundaries of my conscience. The ephemeral existence of man that has to perish one day was not just an intangible idea anymore.

I was alive. 
I was there. 
A tourist in a place as bizarre as thought itself
And I had seen it all. 
And beyond. 

I awoke and it was exactly 2.10 a.m.

June 30, 2013


When there is a lot of noise outside.
If it is beyond the control of my mind.
I feel like this.

Oneirism II

Run away from this house of burning ire
it is bound to fall soon.
Forget me like you've forgotten all your estranged lovers.
And hope we meet some other day,
in some other world.
Where there won't be a home; 
or a name,
or a responsibility of keeping it.

June 28, 2013

Dust & Other Elements

The love that shimmered
Under starlight
In a lone copse of willow,
The winds do remember their names.

But as seasons change,
the names dissolve.
So does love,
Like dust and other elements.

May 15, 2013

1. Prologue: The Gift of Happenstance

There is a very special piece of journal this narrator has acquired. It's a diary of someone who could be of great importance to mankind. I must admit it was a mere blip of a coincidence to have this book in my possession today. Nonetheless, I've realized it's worth and the importance of ideas this scripture holds within it's strange papyrus folds. I must share it with my readers; for the outflow of truth should never cease.


It was the wee hours of one of those full-moon winter nights. I love the most to roam in Delhi at this time. Me and two other of my gang were going to a place in the ridge near Kali Badi Mandir. 'Prince's Den', we would call it cheekily. There is a very interesting walk through the rocky ridge to reach PD. You have to follow a trail through thick trees and walk over huge water pipes hanging firmly 12 feet above the ground and surrounded by lush greens to reach this place. It is one of those very few spots within these cement walls where nature is in just about sufficient amount to unplug you from the chaos of the jungle we live in. There is nothing extravagant about PD though, it's just a clear space on top of a hillock surrounded by short trees. But on full moon-nights that place glows like an ethereal dream. That's why we popped acid and decided to head there that night. We go to there almost once a month. Although it's not a safe place to chill but we all have our ways of getting 'kicks'. But that night turned out to be different from normal escapades to PD. 

We were almost peaking when we reached PD that night. We found a red bag in the middle of that open space. It was glowing strangely under the moonlight or it might have been that Green Martian taking effect. Anyway, the area around PD is a famous hideout for thieves and robbers. After a successful hit, they often hide inside the thickly forested ridge and segregate the valuables from the loot. Although the sight of that bag looked very unnatural to me, but my friends who were more regular to PD didn't care much- A snitch must have gone lucky and lifted someone's bag at the nearby railway station and abandoned all it's unimportant stuff here. I decided to inspect it and it actually turned out to be an ordinary bag belonging to someone who had traveled a long way to reach Delhi. There were clothes, files and folders and other ordinary day-to-day essentials. There was nothing inside that bag that could have indicated that it's real owner must have actually been a traveler- not of distance, but of time. Because I only got to realize it recently.

I have this tendency to keep things I find while traveling. Sometimes they act like souvenirs from all the places I visit and sometimes I keep them for the history they hold within themselves. I have a maple leaf from Paris; burnt notes from an army settlement near Puh; a hotel bill from Raithal; bus tickets of Bangalore and of various places in Himalayas where I choose buses as my preferred mode of travel. These are generally those things which  don't have much worth in life once it has served it's purpose. But for me, these things are the bookmarks of my journey in life.

On that night I found a brown diary inside the red bag. What was written on it's first page grabbed my attention:

What remains away from the sanctuary
would be just words and the black veil.
Rest shall dissolve.
So I kept it.
Along with the diary I also kept a glowing unused sticker from the bag; the ones you used to stick on your notebooks, pencil boxes and book-shelves when you are young. However, this one had a very strange design on it and I thought of using it in my pop art poster that I was making at home. After coming back home that night from PD, I completely forgot about the diary and the strange alien-design label. I even forgot working on the poster. But a few days ago after umpteen attempts I finally convinced myself to redo the poster. At almost the same time I was reminded of that label. I recalled keeping it in the brown diary. But I searched it everywhere at home and since it had been quite some time, I could only find the diary. The label must have been displaced. I didn't really look for it, because then my attention went to what was written in the brown diary. Once I started reading it, I couldn't keep myself away from. It was so simple to understand! Yet it explained to me things that I could never ever imagine to exist.

It was someone's diary; that's for sure. Atleast it was written in that way. But all those things which seemed to be a work of fiction at first, sooner became the scariest truth that I could ever know. It was the truth about the future of our race.

Wait for my following updates as I unravel the diary of a man who lived in the year 3412 AD.

I'm writing a story. I'll try to be regular, I promise.

May 5, 2013

The Woman in Red

Her tender whispers showed me a world through her eyes:
Mystical, sublime.
Her world, an empyrean elegance.
It was an unfamiliar place,
Yet she had let me in
and I'd delved in her in the past.
Explored every inch.
Of her. With her.
The beautiful dream that she was.
A girl. That lil girl.

She is a woman now.
I saw her in red that day,
wearing her mischievous smirk.
On whatever we had indulged in the past,
I remember not much
Just a mark on her breast;
Her fingers, which would weave magic
through lines, colors and tiny bubbles;

and I remember of certain days
where we would just lie under the sun,
hoping to fix each other.
Although whether we fixed anything,
I'm not too sure.

But the woman that she now is.
Is from a distant world.
Yet with her, her old bit stays.
Through her face,voice and her ways.
And through her eyes
and her old mischievous smile.

I hope she stays happy and warm,
wherever she'd be,
That girl. The lil girl.
The woman she now is.

The woman in red.

April 24, 2013

Dilemma Over Perpetually Altering Identities

When we'd talk about liberation,
Why did you choose to be 
a faceless man
in a faceless crowd?

Leaving the host-face behind,
you picked up an ever-changing mask -
perpetually altering identities,
none your own.

You were away for sure
from madness and chaos
and from sycophants
who wiggle and wriggle.

But do you want to be just another grain
in a thousand grains?
Identical like sheep
an insignificant sublime memory?

Would you find peace then?
if you'd be without yourself;
if you'll be erased from existence;
a part of nobody's mind or dream?

Because aren't we feeding ourselves,
From other's memory
an image of ourselves
that distinguishes us from billion others?

Your definition of freedom and liberty
differs from mine.
I know that for sure.
I hope you explain me someday,
this liberation you talk about.

April 10, 2013

My Lucid Dream

Close your eyes.
You know I love those brown eyes.
You know I love looking at them.
But close them for now.
Trust me it's going to be fine.

Give me your hand, would you?
You know I've kept them warm in cold days
and patted them dry in hot summer Mays.
and of course, you know how I feel when I hold your hand
so don't refrain just once again.

Come closer. 
As close as two Dandelions locked in one.
Let me touch your skin once again.
You know how much I love
to run my fingers all over you
Like a young voyager 
who has discovered his own paradise.
I know you won't fret for what I'd do.
You know me. And my wants. 
And I know you.

Be here, for now.
Let us be content.
and forget what is real and what is not.
I know the night will be gone soon.
And with it, you'll fade away too.
But just stay here, for now.
Right here where you are.
Close to my heart.
So that I can remember, 
the sound of your breath
and of your heart.
I know you'd listen to mine
You had often done that.
You would tell me when it was pacy, my heart;
and when it was calm like a sweet morning song.

I know there has been a lot of useless bickering
I know we have fought more than we could forgot.
But let's just stay shut tonight,
let's not speak a word.
Let our actions speak this time.
Let's just figure out what kept us ticking all this while.

Take off your sadness,
let me help you take it off.
We've done this before,
we've been there in each other's woes.
So help me once again
to take mine off too?
Because I hope you know, 
that I'm not made of just tears and thorns.
No man is.
A happy face sits beneath it all.
The one you had brought forth.

Share with me your God 
like you once did.
I've never had mine, 
I never believed.
But in your eyes, 
I had seen 
subtle changes in life 
faith can bring. 
I might never understand that,
but I understood your belief.

Hold on,
don't sway now.
Clutch my hand tightly
like we always did.
regardless of the world
we kept close.
I know we don't anymore.
But it was something I won't forget.

Let me capture your smell,
before it's too late.
You've taught me how to.
I'll store it somewhere deep in my heart,
The way you always would
whenever we would kiss each other goodbye.

Don't fade away now,
please don't.
Let me grab you by your waist,
let me pull you closer.
mad man you'd call me,
a drunkard in love.
I fell into you
when you had already cautioned me.
But did I make a mistake?
Was it all a waste?
Don't you remember me; us?
don't you remember the stoned eyes?
Don't you long for my touch,
or for those silent whispers in your ear,
or for all the places we've discovered together?

You had a place in my heart,
I wanted to keep it special.
But one day it'll be replaced,
no matter how much I'd want it to stay untouched
the memory will one day get erased
only to make way for new ones
and to be forgotten again.
That's what life is isn't it-
loop spun infinite times over?

I guess the longing doesn't matter now,
when the raindrop has flow away from the cloud,
never to return again.
Even these illusions don't matter anymore.

So begone now,
fade into oblivion.
Let me wake up.
Let me forget it all,
Away from me
Your world will be.
Away from you,
I will be.

March 15, 2013

Twilight Blue

You and I
belong together,
Under the shadows of twilight blue.

Beneath the sublime folds of thin blanket,
Our intimacy create sparks,
As we hush sweet nothings
And let our desires surround us.
Flower child she was,
Her sweet aroma purged my emotions.
She caressed my happiness,
While i took refuge in her dreams
And let go of all my fears.

Our eyes hum the sweetest symphony.
As I held her in arms
And whispered in her ear
This is where i belong,
This is where my world ends.
Besides you,
Under the shadows of twilight blue.

February 1, 2013

Other People's Lives

Silken scent,
feathered dreams;
A buttered layer of happiness,
garnished with occasional rendezvous
to merrymaking communions.

brimming with hopes
Carnal desires, daisy dawns and
faithful summer songs.
Rainbow days,
Tender nights.

Smiling shining teeth
intentions true and neat.
Dialectical dialogue,
amongst wise old folks.
Fortuitous epiphanies
and life wild, free.

The circus of life
in other people's lives,
devoid of lies, adulteration,
inhibition and infestation.

The circus of life
in other people's lives,
Like a sweet symphony
made of pretty notes
plays on & on
and on
until the last breath is not gone.