No rest in here
mostly
torn apart
look everywhere
under all shades
and shadows

every breath is your name
heat in me is you
and yet
and yet
no rest in here
in a heart whose
nights and days were drowned in your name

these eyes and how
mostly torn apart
still with your name
sing about how when nothing
existed before you

I burning in your name
looked everywhere
under all shades
and shadows
still searching
wanting a worship granted by you

My voice deserted me long back
singing your name
have I paid a price enough
or I could still for you my spring
oh my beloved face
draw the remaining winds of my lungs

All illness carries a story
about how
more than the physical pain
the heart hurts most

if you put a bullet in me
would you suffer

you don't mind it
when you get used to it
that
it being anything

being quite is good for me
and why I  need a
mirror always
to look at my own back

half dreaming half awake
the eyes look lonely in
the mirror
a stare which I can't stand

No you and I in this walk
or by the oceans
or by the sunsets

I wish it was about you
I wish it was about the suns
and moons

No taking me hand in hand
No rolling in the grass
No world in our feet
No people going or coming
And no you and I

Hand me the you and I see
you oh my firefly
In the open air
In the dark night
You light up my sight
Hard to say if
I'm awake or in some dream

Can't keep me out of my head

Can't keep me out of my head
I know
I know
She grows and grows

Can't keep me out of my head
Can't keep me out of my head

A shy me takes me to a
drive
cheers me up
I know
I know
all the things that she likes

Can't keep me out of my head
Can't keep me out of my head

Every day now I play
a game with me
I know
I know
she would be build me all over again

Can't keep me out of my head
Can't keep me out of my head

Sing me the reds and blues
See me go round and round
I know
I know
She's been thinking of the moon
and back

Can't keep me out of my head
Can't keep me out of my head

Can't keep me out of my head
I know
I know
She's my fantasy and I feel them here
in my song

na na na na na an ana ana an a .................................

Narrow lanes and dark corners
the eyes now stretched far into a
world

Saturn, you have to fight him,
I was told, but here
I was killed by my lover
she being mightier than all
saturns

I recalled a strain,
a wave which came and
threatened
then touched and curled

Life rises in life
the centuries knows this as
time sings the songs of death,
let it sing to it's heart content,
I a child of love, sleeps
more in dreams than this
eternal scheme

A strip tease and
she knew the moves
she
stripped off her attributes
she a river of knowledge though
concealed
stood stark naked now

The tired me
took a step in her and
the last wall of love dropped off
nothing there, not even unity

Intimate whispers of knowledge
exchanged the mysteries of creation and
now a
reflecting mirror
this river that kept on flowing

Just Once

How much more of there
is of you
I have lost all my world
it that was so called

The breath comes out light
My god knows
how I enter you
tonight

Divine claws and loving eyes
is where my knowledge rests
for all my life

A Faith In Question

The traveller was asked of faith
A lover in journey knew only of
pain

The answer came in slow of
how now
Life in a stone
was always seen

I have not known me about
My mortal me; only
My love is my own
Which will always be
immortal in me

Words

True mockery of the word is in a response that is spoken in silence.

No freedom here
Movements between ones and zeroes
Every millisecond of my time

Actions matter
Not reactions
Reactions can never
help me
When alone

Life has a charm of it's own
YET
It has to be lived in
a Yes or a No

A spoken word,

the halting reproach

trained, yours,

a vault in siege,

and buried secrets,

tainted, mine,

eyes un-wet,

and the nights we met

a burden forgotten,

now to my day of toil

a twig in flight,

and the earthly bound,

one to the space,

one to the sound

I weigh in soil,

and fire to flames,

an explosion, lovelorn,

in my burial ground.

Seek
Express
Only in that order

Conflicts in seeking results
Difficulties in expressing

What I want
Is where my thought begins
This is where my expansion happens
This I can move through limitless
then

I want to know
And in everyway of a just born

Being

Happiness as it is
Experienced by me
In moments
That came and went

Sparks of brilliance
Insights in to me
About a an enormous joy
present in
In moments that came and went

Isn't it time enough now
For me
To look in to these
The source and the many many things
Of stimulus
From inside or outside

The knowledge always came from outside
But it needed me to exist in me
This is how and when my body was born
This is how the content in my mind
came about

This knowledge is what limits the moments of
Joy in me
It requires time to gather
And hence it can be lost too in time

Let me now with
This automatic process of thinking
Keep moving
Till it slows down on it's own
Naturally
Peacefully

A figure in two dimensions
Talking of a beyond
Manufacturing a great build up
Of things known

I see a life
That I am ready to live for
I hear me talk of what I see
Asking questions from answers
that are given
Burning the build up
Of
The before(s)
And the beyond(s)

The Way Of Existence

Me in nature is me
Not in idea but only
Within my five senses
Not in any unconscious state
All in my conscious state

My life begins at all points
This me is all in my experiences
That is the origin of my life
That me in nature is me

Not in ideas
Not through inwards
Or through outsides
Of knowledge
These life energies
Throb in nature
That me in nature is me.

Freedom

Yes freedom

I laughed

When I heard
The world cheering freedom

That was something to be
And I promised I would be

In my heaven
In me
Outside of me

Yes
Free

From boundaries
And Flags
And the grounds before

I would one day
BE Free

free
From me

IQ

IQ should really read as "interest quotient".

How beautiful
How beautiful is her heart

I a common thief
And hers a pretty face

My kingdom seems everywhere
It's on her
To tell me where she wants

I get up and pray
I know now
I would die pure

Think hard
For the heart is ablaze
A thin line exists between
Passion and masochism

"Endlessly in the burning sun the lovers walked
They saw all
The past the present and the future
Everything they ever wanted was laid out for them"

Think hard
Open up your heart
And tell me all about you

If a why hid between thousands of why, my nights would light up.

The fingers pointed at the earth below
The earth split in two parts
I outsmarted my emotions again

Silence me
Take necessary measures

For the flower blooms
And the wind blows

Tell me what in ME
Would come to an end in ME.

Stopping thoughts
Is like building futile dams
On a raging river

An uninhibited energy
I call it life
A raging river
The process called thinking

Round and Round and Round
In a circle
I could never harm anyone

Round and Round and Round
In a circle
I could never make anyone happy

Round and Round and Round
In a circle
I could never exhibit compassion

Round and Round and Round
In a circle
I could never understand opposites

Round and Round and Round
In a circle
I could never harm anyone

That would be the only compassion
No compassion

If time is basic
For you
How come you wasted
SO MUCH
in wasted canned thoughts

One two three four
As I sat one day counting
The voices in my head

The people real
With minds real

From the time I say was born
I had this something to be

So it was up to me
As I sat counting
Who was the hero

I was a fool
I was a superstar
In love with me

Now I carry on
Carry on
And on and on
Me a only me

Yes
That was all there to these voices
My hands
My thoughts
My stone
And my passion
To carry on
Carry on

I met you again today
Have you succeeded
In solving all your problems

I lost you again
In a reality
That was never your reality

If you walk
And then talk of your
walk
I say you have arrived

'You  would die soon'

And I would laugh
I never belonged to
Time sands

Gods have plans
Gods turn the times
But I would decide
When I would breathe
And when I wouldn't

I pressed my luck
And I laughed
As she shouted
'You would die soon'

In the cold dark winters of my life
I came to a point
Where my abilities generated
Enough light and heat by me
It was not through courage
That I reached
What I was left with...................... now is
Courage.

No reply
Yet again

Memories don't move
A small mistake

A temple floats
And the beads slip

A dream
Over and over

I came alone
And I could be anywhere

IS

his dreams so close to him
yet
yet he is a stranger to them
what if
what if his dreams
fly away

a little room in your silentwine
and can I ask
and when sadness is all over me
and is that heaven
without you
nothing makes sense
even this
this your silentwine

................unfinished memories last longer than finished ones..............
..........................i know of souls that go when these unfinished memories go..................

The universe is certainly invisible till I start experiencing tears in my eyes that refuse to stop.

Snapshots Of Existence

Tell me
What is there to be known
And
I will tell you
All that is known

There is flesh on MY body
That is not
Required by THE body.

Waiting

The insides left alone to insides
Before I knew it was walking besides me
I look back and see it there
A story of my love
My belief that it ends here
And yet I wait for it
With flowers in my hand
There is nothing we can do for us

yes my love
the insides left alone to insides

The Sorrow Of Ignorance.

Shivani

I may have been small but I knew that night when he said everything will be alright, nothing will happen; it was a lie, a lie coming from the corner of his eye.
Years later I knew all about men, almost all and never a lie that could go undetected by me. But it was my first love that haunted me the most and hurt me the most.

Lies - what are they to us, why do they hurt us?

It was different for girls, in my house or anyone that I knew. Protected all the time and taken where the grandparents and parents wanted to. There were places where I wanted to go. My dreams were growing each day. At first whenever I asked them they would tell me something or other which I thought would be the truth. Somewhere the restlessness in me provoked me to think about their stories and I knew in an instant all I was told was a lie.
What did I want, what did I dream off?
Just a boat ride across the river, I was told there was a deep forest there and some old empty houses, I had dreams of visiting them.

Dreams, I knew what it was to feel happy because of them, I knew what was joy because of them, I understood what mornings were made of because of them, Dreams.

I slept under  sky lit stars; me with a friend Shreya and we watched the stars, fireflies, crickets and barren trees. The terrace was all mine just like my dreams and Shreya would love to spend the nights with me.
We had stories to tell to each other and then see where would our dreams carried them till morning. Then while we walked to the school we would continue from where we had left them. We both knew about a prince, a prince that would carry us all around the earth. Once as the moon made every corner of my terrace holy, I felt an urge in me and asked Shreya how much would it cost us if we ran away from here, took the local bus and the train to where ever we wanted and come back only when we had finished all the money. She looked deep in to that sky that hid all the stars that night and said as much as the stars that I could see and not see.

Fireflies, they taught us how to stand still. We bought jars and collected them each night. The taught us to stand still, the still we were, the more they were around us. Such a joy holding one in the palm and such a joy to hold a dream as the eyes opened slowly in the dawn.

My class housed some sixty-five of us and in front of me sat Nitya. For reasons not known to me I used to see him sometimes in my dreams in that deep forest. I use to smile at him and at other times laugh only to shy him away. He used to call me crazy and it sent me to seventh heaven.

My thirteenth year was lucky for baba, he said that himself, and today there were so many people in the house celebrating baba becoming the sarpanch of the village. I felt like a princess and then I saw Nitya entering with his family, he saw me and turned away his eyes, I knew then he was my prince who would take me to my deep forests. I called Shreya and whispered tonight, she chuckled and this made Nitya go red in face.
I wrote a note about my dream and forest and how would I travel tonight with Nitya and asked Shreya to pass it on to him. She made him come to the corner of the veranda and gave him the note, the note was like a cobra bite to him, and he looked poisoned blue, poor boy.

Boys are weak, men weaker, this I came to know later in my life.

Stolen glances are never exchanged by friends, I was naive then but there was Shreya and Nitya exchanging those glances, I thought he was scared and Shreya amused and I was thrilled to have my dream fulfilled.
It was quiet and the night dark, a moonless dark night. There was a silly wind, very difficult to keep track off. The whole village was drunk, asleep, some by my baba's celebration liquor, some by this wind.
Shreya made him come, I was thrilled and now I had this desire to go alone with him. It was complicated and I could not get the hang of this crude feeling of asking Shreya to leave me and Nitya alone. Partly also because seeing them holding hands and running to me. Anyways I was in the middle of an amazing freedom, freedom from the land of people to the land of flowers, trees and nature. My dream was now happening and the nature would now be looking at me.

The center and the circumference was today's topic that  my maths teacher hinted at and then my physics teacher later lectured about poles and magnetism. Both of these made sense to me whenever I looked at Nitya. Interesting, yes school was becoming more interesting.
----------------

Shreya

What I saw, touched and smelled would be the reality thought Shreya one night, the only reality, how could there be any other reality other to what I could not touch and see or smell. Even fear came to me after I had touched or saw. I am affected too by these senses I thought loud.
Shivani was quiet tonight may be not even listening to my thoughts.She used to talk to me about her mother. Questions were burning deep inside her mother as much they were in her.
I could not understand them, I only use to think about my pain of missing my father, who never came back from the war. My mother still used to wait for letters. she use to say someone has to tend the pain, it keeps the warmth in the sleep intact.
I had no idea when I saw Nitya or he saw me. I still remember me sitting besides the river soaking my legs in the cool water. It was hot that afternoon, may be temperatures about 40 degrees centigrade, not a soul for a mile each way. There was a cool wave flowing inside my body and I felt very quiet and comfortable. Shivani was very talkative and chirpy and I loved that, but today this solitude meant a lot to me.
Plop, a stone dropped in front of me, I was jolted as if I was in some deep sleep, I turned around and saw no one, I thought it was Shivani playing pranks with me. I thought I wouldn't pay attention and she would come out on her own.
I closed my eyes and went back to my journey. Then there was music or what seemed music to my ears, a hello so soft that would have melted me. I opened my eyes to see Nitya, he said he was tired and wanted to sit and was looking for some shade by the river to cool off when he saw me. At first he said he thought I was in some trance or had a heat stroke, so he decided to throw a stone. He asked if he could sit besides me for sometime and promised that he wouldn't speak until spoken too. I smiled back and then suddenly burst out crying. Poor Nitya he sat the whole afternoon holding my head on his shoulder, quietly, very quietly.
You are a daughter of a brave soldier Shivani's baba would tell me proudly 'and I remember him to be very ingenious in school days, you have gone on him, I see you and I see him.'
I use to stand there motionless the minute Shivan's baba sang this song in front of me, first couple of times it bought tears in my eyes, but now the words weren't even registering, I just waited him to finish and hand me a ten rupee note and say go buy some eclairs. I never bought them and I had now 23 of these ten rupee notes. I also hated death and killing and wasn't sure why dada went to fight or why he became a soldier. I wasn't like him at all. Sometimes I hated him too when I use to see my mother searching drawers late at night.
I wasn't sure if Nitya would agree to come with us to forests that night, he held my hands and they were burning, I laughed and he jerked my hand loose, I held them again and shouted run.
There was Shivani waiting for us, looking pensive now, the color of her skin gone pale.
-------------------------

Nitya

I really hated the mornings, amma would be shouting her lungs out to wake me up. I knew like most days I had unfinished homework in my school bag. Amma was a very simple woman and me telling her anything was truth. I hated this though, I wanted her to suspect me once but she wasn't even pretending to be fooled. Baba and I never spent any time together, we use to sleep by the time he came home. Shreya always slept when I spoke about me, today too, her head as always on my shoulder and me happy to sit still.
I liked Shreya for completing my homework always or the silence I came in to with her.
Like her I missed my father too and my father was just a room away from me. Baba looked very energetic and amma would tell me his stories of success in far lands. He use to visit new lands and be away from us for days together, what she could never answer was why was he working hard.

I hated working hard for anything, if I could learn something then it should be easy for me and not hard.

My amma use to laugh and say 'please never say this in front of your Baba that you will never work hard' and I use to explain why I wouldn't work hard and she would tap my head and ask me to shut up. I never wanted to work hard, I felt sick in my stomach, I would have rather found an easy way to do things or not do at all. 

'Nitya'; 'yes,present',  my calling would trigger so much anger in Mrs. Mathur, our maths teacher, surprised me, only me in class. I had been absent on and off and now was being taken to the Principal's office. My amma had a lot of explaining to do to my principal, and there in that dark dingy room with just a small table fan I was going crazy and angry. I knew when baba came back this time from his visit I would be smacked blue.
I could never stand the giggles of Shivani, but she was my only way out of being beaten blue and black. My baba used spend a lot of time smoking with her father and playing chess, so if she could somehow get me off hook. I was scared of baba and more scared of her, she was a creep. I wish I could run away, just go away to some place where I would never be found. I hated everybody, ok, except Shreya .

'One charminar'; babu stretched his hand to the top corner of cigarette stack and removed one, looking at me at all the time, I couldn't hold his stare and whispered to David, 'sure no one would come by?'
 'No, come'.
 David knew all about cigarettes, he had seen his father smoking and learnt it all by himself. Today he was going to teach me. 'Slowly, just as you breathe, very slowly and as normally','aise' and I inhaled only to drop down coughing. I guess even this seemed hard. I tried again, this time ever so slowly and it remained in my mouth, burning my tongue and throat. I wondered why would baba smoke this all day long. That night was horrible, I spent the night with my hands tied to the leg of my bed, I had hugged amma when I returned home from my cigarette exercise. She threw me aside and started cursing me, out came the cane and the wild swings of it right across my back. She felt guilty of not taking care of me in baba's absence and how would she face him when he came back home. How did she come to know about my smoking, all of my thirteen asked all that night to me; how old could I be as she repeated that I was old and such a good for nothing.

What had my age to do with me being good for nothing?

David was strange, strange to me then, I never knew I would be carrying this scar with me too. He wanted to count my ribs and see the smoke going down my chest. I was skinny and had been ashamed of my structure. That day in the old stone temple where we sat and smoked, he slowly removed my shirt and moved his fingers on my ribs.
I must have died that night, I could hear baba laughing and calling out my name, slowly I opened my eyes, only to feel my hands swollen, still tied to the bed, my bach aching.
'Nitya, Nitya' amma called, she had forgotten all about me being tied up. I struggled my wrists of the ropes which had loosened up a bit. I heard baba laughing away and calling out my name. 'Nitya, get ready soon, we have to go to Shymalal's house, he is our new sarpanch', was this good news, no , for me it was bad news, it meant Shivani would now act more tough with me. We reached there and here she was looking straight at me. I have had a terrible night, what more could get worse for me. There she was, Shreya, and she walking straight towards me, she pulled out  my hand and placed a note in my hand. What more worse could happen is the question I had asked sometime back, but this note drained my blood, I felt the ground trembling. I whispered 'tonight?'.
Later in the evening I met David and showed him the note, he smiled and said he would take care of everything.

-----------------------------

David

'Do that again and you are dead'. One more kick in my stomach.
I lowered my eyes, one to seven was unfair, the floor below my eyes had my blood and my cheeks soaked whatever my lips and nose leaked  but I felt no pain after the first few minutes, no pain.

PAIN - what if the hunger in you died - would the pain still stay.

Undisputed all the super heroes on my wall fought. One to fifty and more. I would one day do that. I would take on fifty and jump and kick, one day.
David would rule just as these ruled, I shouted loud in my room.
What stood between me and my dream was - PAIN.

I was always on the run, from school to house to other hide outs of mine. Father was a police constable and knew almost all. His commitment to his work was recognized by everyone. He was also my ideal in some way and somehow I knew because of his thoughts that pain never went all the way, somewhere it stopped. I felt free to cry and shout and then it wasn't there.
I could think myself out and father really liked my abilities, always pushing me and inspiring me. His talk of spirit and god was always most interesting. I used to sit and listen to him for hours together. His smoke filling my heart and my spirits too. Saturdays was special, he used to finish one full bottle of whisky, almost full, he knew it too, I had sneaked a few sips of it. He had ears in me and that would be a high for him.

Sasha

That night he couldn't let go, neither could she let go of him
 Dance he shouted or die. One two three and a million times more, swing he cried. You show me some spirit, lift me higher, more higher she responded.
She mocked him with her soul showing him the dance, he used his body as she danced, shouting move, move, move to his spirit. Come on she howled.
He swirled and swirled and swirled. Hell, she was talented and he a master.
Sasha was yet jealous, the passion at it's peak and yet there was sorrow in the dance, she saw that he was still dancing with the past.
Sasha knew she could have torn him tonight, the jealousy could turn either ways. May be he too saw the passion burning in her breath, but he had his own flares to deal with.
Dance or die, it was she who shouted now.

Lost and Not Listening

Tremendous investment in guns
We carry it everywhere we go

We love to hold it tight
And pull the trigger out of happiness

I would love to see you
Hold it in your own mouth and
Then talk

My Own

Keep writing
keep forming an entity
No moment from moment
That living must be a myth
Or a joke

Let me maintain my pain
Continue my continuity
And constant use will create new images
Bring them on
Is this how culture was born
and the identity in that culture survived

I can
explain everything and
How all definitions in space
make thought matter

What is mine now?

bLESSED.

I'm blessed by my MESS

It's a boat
What came out of it
Is
What went in to it

My papa said
Get off that boat
No papa am lovin' it

I bought myself an umbrella
And I walked in rain
An unburdened me
Being blessed by my own
MESS

She asked me :

Have u ever come across one morning u wake up unable to move?
  Unable to do the things u love the most?

And I sang:

Every morning I get up to see myself dead
In my home
is where I sleep
In my home
is where I wakeup

Dreams never stop flowing
they see me alive
they see me dead

they see me alive
they see me dead

they see me alive
they see me dead

Thanksgiving Unwashed

You looked like a doll
A suburban middle class flat doll

Hello!
I'm delivered
Baptised and
my mouth cleaned

Wish you could come too
To my lunch with
My angels unwashed thanks giving

Get out of here.

Here I'm in your living room
Or your garden
why?

You and I are different
My pains to your pains
Positions being the same
Insane
Change?

We compare
And how do you experience
A place that you never own
I worship you woman
What?

I love you
Yes I do
Sign me in
Let me ride you the high town
Pretending?

Some rose
And oil
on tuesdays and all your days
Is your life in hiding
Asking?

Infidelity

My silent wine
heals feels and seals
hey jesus why am i infidel

my cherryberry high
you in a cage
and i think new
me the infidel me

is there a cross
or a drag
hey jesus your angels hagin' out with me
hell yes

i would never be done
i would hide and shun
my lifes and afterlifes
call me where you want
in your living room or your wall
me the infidel me

I REFUSE

Relationships.

"How can you laugh?"
"I know, it's a scar and I'm enjoying it."

"I think, I can't do anything without you."
"Am I, do you think, a bud without a root?"
"Alright then put yourself in my boots."

"I feel used, not because of the client, but because of me not wanting to see him after. Damn, am sick and tired of waiting, but there are times, one comes along and I develop a kind of care for him."
"I don't know, I'm half dead. I wish I could carry some oxygen masks with me."

"Yesterday night, it was a piano teacher."
"I know, but who do you think are easiest to blackmail?"

"Oh!, I thought you would ask about love. I try to touch hearts."
"That is why you can't smile, I can. I know I'm with trash"

"There must be someone, some night, something that must have got you close."
"Oh hell, it was the only night I burnt the money after I left the hotel."
"You were in love?"
"Don't know, but it was birthday night and may be I had some extra shots."

"Some act like my father."
"They do bring themselves in totality."
"We repair their relationships."
"I don't do it for some brownie points from church, sometimes I whisper scums and they hear ums, crazy."

"What are you looking at?"
"The word, relationships, I wish I could set myself free from them."

The Lotus

Nothing moves without the mind:

The gardner who uproots his plant
that flowers.

The dance on thin ice.

A sweet song.

Either in the world or when
lockep up.

With or without begging.

A stone tied in your heart and
yet it can move, if you fall,
you can still stand up and walk.

Undo everything done.

Every One Is safe

'Every one is safe
Every one is safe'
The fakir sang

'Children will have children
And nothing will happen to nothing
They can wait forever for a home
Every one is safe
Every one is safe'
The fakir walked on

'Bombs
Car bombs
And the safest now are
Human bombs
It's a breaking news airborne
Every one is safe
Every one is safe'
The fakir was now in shadows

The voice of fakir in my head
A nuclear explosion in my heart
Sing me for sympathy please
Every one is safe
Every one is safe

In Control

It wasn't a joke
The kidnapping was for real
He would have killed
Even if you smirked
He said he was in control

The reassurances came in time
That though he couldn't be understood
Neither his act as he sang
That in the end
 It would all be fine

Untie my numb hands
I cried and pleaded
I'm not the one you thought I am
Why put me in this mess

Ah! you think this is for money
Come on he sighed
You've let me down
And now I would see a bullet
In your head and
That would end fine

But I'm not
I thought I said that loud

OK, I would kill you anyway
If that was that

NO, Please , NO
Oh please let me go

I'm a hero
Born under stars
My momma told me
I could never ever go wrong
That I would always be in control
And never in a war
I don't care who you are
You among all bought this on me
Now
How would I face my momma
In this costume with this scar
Look, look momma
I'm in control finally
Here is a life
That begs me for life

*Bang*

Darling

Are you a princess
He asked as he slapped

Living here is like
Living in a prison
I cried

Cheers to the cigarette stubs
On my backs

The slapping continued

No, he never wanted
To kill me
The fun would end

Down the elevator shaft
I was destroyed
It was the day he whispered
Darling

Trapped

Streams in river
Flowing in layers
Ending what I call a river

I see me
After living
In tremendous ignorance
A layer flowing above me still
Hinting at something more
Some other layers in self pity

As I land up in a layer deep
The image above me dies
Ending what I call ends
For the depth still persists

I come here
I lose there
The movement born
From something that ends

Floating

Shallow waters holding me
I weigh like a feather
Drifting in the wind
Some bones and
Some missing ribs

Like a watermelon
This skull of mine
Filled with vodka divine

This death is very cruel
And so dangerous
Stop preaching
You read your bed time stories
As for you
Souls like me
Never exist

The Word.

The question is not if I can experience the reality of anything, a lot has been said about it. Theories change and so does God. All theories and all God offer guides and order.

The question is what would be the right action with whatever reality that we find our self in? The problem here is that there are no guides here.

 I find millions of words in thousands of books in my local book store trying to make sense to me how I have deceived myself and that I have to see myself through my self-deception.
So many words to tell me, how neurotic I am.

Why was I standing outside my classroom? Was I creating disorder in my class.
In the last few years  of my school  when I went quiet, not a single minute was spent by me outside the classroom, may be the teachers never knew of my existence in class too. May be I stopped questioning the reality.
I was caught in moral discipline which I could not reject. I became a co-operator.My relationship with my teachers never changed, only that I was lost in the class.  And I could operate easily in this neuroticism.

What I see now was very disturbing for me then. This is/was my consciousness. This was how I was made from millions of years, exactly the same way. The words were and are never real but only fixed for the word was never the thing.

The Word.

I am on my own.
How do I arrive here and why do I arrive here.
Am I satisfied with the answers given to me of what is happening to me inside of me or am I looking for some objective reality?
Whatever I experience demands a new language, some richer vocabulary, if I do that, it can be left alone, but if I search for objectivity, it will only end in some problems. Let's try.
I need to find the physical side of I am on my own other than words here, that is an objective reality. The first area that I will have to look for is in the inter-subjective frame work. To that I will have to depend on answers from the theory of relativity.
May be that is why we write love letters.
That I am on my own today and now how do I observe the world around me and do I apply the same for all the objects living or non living.
This should apply across all existence. If applied it will bring in a finger that only points to me.

Turning around in mind
I search

For me
And love that lies hidden
A tear trapped
Some shadows and secrets
Questions of sorrow
Clouds and springs

So much so
In my mind
All the whispers
That you sang
As I consumed you

The Word.

From childhood I have been wanting things, things that were given to me and the things I had to fight for. For some wants I had to use all the activities of feelings and manipulations. The brain has lived shared cultivated itself with so many wants and how to use words to solve problems and how to think itself out of wants or go for it at any cost.
I was told I had problems, why was I being told that. How was I to resolve that which was hammered in to me. Always felt as if caught in the middle - to let go or go after it.
Functioning in an organized religious structure which was supposed to be easy as told to me seemed a problem the minute it was questioned. The brain might have understood that somewhere along the line that word is the thing.
That it was easy this way to live and to accept the reality as imposed on me. As years went on the issues became complicated, falling in and out of affairs. I, Understanding, manipulating and creating new patterns to be in love.
The wants were coming in the same way as in childhood; they were dealt too in the same way.
The conflicts could not be brought to end. Why was I concerned about me and people around me.Thinking was giving more energy to words.
Realizations of wanting two things at the same time did not help. This was my situation.
I am on my own.

The Word.

The word is not the thing and yet the word is rigid having behind it movement of millions of years. The word when looked upon is the thought and not the thing. Words, pictures, images exist in memory forming a reality, my psychological reality.
Psychological reality looks real and says God is there and it is not a construction or self is there and we have a theory that it exist.
The word is now used or seen as the thing and that movement forms the content of consciousness.
I may be horribly flawed here though.

Freud and Penis Envy.

Freud Triumphs! The pig that he is. We find ever increasing volume of evidence to support his theory.


Rajini Narayan sets her husbands penis on fire. While the case and arguments may be many but I think Freud triumphs with a demonstration of a THEORY he gave BIRTH to.


Case Summary: She burnt his penis while he was asleep after pouring a sufficiently flameable liquid in generous doses. Apparently she saw him hug a woman. Her Claim is that "His Penis belongs to me". The culprit died when he was rudely woken from his dream with his furniture on fire rammed the rest of the flameable fluid onto the floor and accidentally set the whole house on fire.


Rajini of course survived because she innocently ran out of the house to confess to the neighbors that she didnt mean this to happen. Her confession: "I just wanted to burn his penis so it belongs to me and no one else, I didn't mean this to happen".


Apparently she even confessed in court that she just wanted to purify his genitals. Yeah, we understand, she simply wanted a scarred marriage to be saved by another scar.


Fair enough. In a world of cruel impure men, who is to deny one woman some justice by fire?

Brave men ought not be scared of simple purification rituals. Then again, devil in us was never open to purity.




Here is the link (couple of many):
http://www.truecrimereport.com/2010/09/rajini_narayan_sets_cheating_h.php

http://frigginloon.wordpress.com/2008/12/08/woman-set-fire-to-her-husbands-genitals/

What I found most hilarious if somewhat perverse since it ignores all the actual truths was a comment on one of the message board that read:


"Mohini Chandra, you need to ask yourself do you know the intricate details of their lives. Keep those opinions which are wrong to yourself.. She didn’t do it on purpose and he technically deserved it..he dropped the bottle"


While we are not sure if this is "well meant" or "Sarcastic", True, we agree - if only he had the common sense and forebonding to stay put on the bed with a burning crotch, he would not have knocked the bottle (Which incidentally happened to have some petrol in it)  and brought the house down.


Hell, life is like that.

Funny Or Sad - 2010 DARWIN AWARDS

2010 DARWIN AWARDS

8th Place
In Detroit , a 41-year-old man got stuck and drowned in two feet of
water after squeezing head first through an 18-inch-wide sewer grate
to retrieve his car keys.

7th Place
A 49-year-old San Francisco stockbroker, who "totally zoned when he
ran", accidentally, jogged off a 100-foot high cliff on his daily run.

6th Place
While at the beach, Daniel Jones, 21, dug an 8 foot hole for
protection from the wind and had been sitting in a beach chair at the
bottom, when it collapsed, burying him beneath 5 feet of sand. People
on the beach used their hands and shovels trying to get him out but
could not reach him. It took rescue workers using heavy equipment
almost an hour to free him. Jones was pronounced dead at a hospital.

5th Place
Santiago Alvarado, 24, was killed as he fell through the ceiling of a
bicycle shop he was robbing. Death was caused when the long torch he
had placed in his mouth to keep his hands free, rammed into the base
of his skull as he hit the floor.

4th Place
Sylvester Briddell, Jr., 26, was killed as he won a bet with friends
who said he would not put a revolver loaded with four bullets into his
mouth and pull the trigger.

3rd Place
After walking around a marked police patrol car parked at the front
door, a man walked into H&J Leather & Firearms intent on robbing the
store. The shop was full of customers and a uniformed officer was
standing at the counter.. Upon seeing the officer, the would-be robber
announced a hold-up and fired a few wild shots from a target pistol.
The officer and a clerk promptly returned fire and several customers
also drew their guns and fired. The robber was pronounced dead at the
scene by Paramedics. Crime scene investigators located 47 expended
cartridge cases in the shop. The subsequent autopsy revealed 23
gunshot wounds. Ballistics identified rounds from 7 different weapons.
No one else was hurt.

HONOURABLE MENTION
Paul Stiller, 47, and his wife Bonnie were bored just driving around
at 2 a.m. So they lit a stick of dynamite to toss out the window to
see what would happen. Apparently they failed to notice the window was
closed.

RUNNER UP
Kerry Bingham had been drinking with several friends when one of them
said they knew a person who had bungee-jumped from a local bridge in
the middle of traffic. The conversation grew more heated and at least
10 men trooped along the walkway of the bridge at 4:30 a.m. Upon
arrival at the midpoint of the bridge they discovered that no one had
brought a bungee rope. Bingham, who had continued drinking,
volunteered and pointed out that a coil of lineman's cable lay nearby.
They secured one end around Bingham's leg and then tied the other (!)
to the bridge. His fall lasted 40 feet before the cable tightened and
tore his foot off at the ankle. He miraculously survived his fall into
the icy water and was rescued by two nearby fishermen. Bingham's foot
was never located.


AND THE WINNER IS...
Zookeeper Friedrich Riesfeldt (Paderborn, Germany ) fed his
constipated elephant 22 doses of animal laxative and more than a
bushel of berries, figs and prunes before the plugged-up pachyderm
finally got relief. Investigators say ill-fated Friedrich, 46, was
attempting to give the ailing elephant an olive oil enema when the
relieved beast unloaded. The sheer force of the elephant's unexpected
defecation knocked Mr. Riesfeldt to the ground where he struck his
head on a rock as the elephant continued to evacuate 200 pounds of
dung on top of him. It seems to be just one of those freak accidents
that proves.... 'shit happens'

Do not talk of rejecting clinging
Till you feel the need of security

Be
Ruthlessly honest & that
Even this thought of
I am a good athiest
Is a clinging

Skid-marks: Permeability

No one gets a second chance in life. They get a chance in a second life.

How to name it?

The map I hold is not the roads I roam. Those who feel that the gap is merely very difficult to bridge are men/women with purpose. For the landmarks I sight are the destinations I want to reach, and makes me believe that that the universe can be simultaneously apprehended at once. It makes me leap from recognition to recognition and my ingenuity bridges the gap creatively to apply my principles. I become self-obsessed and congratulatory and it is perfectly plausible that happiness becomes my second nature. For I am no longer incapacitated by the enormity of what I see, only my mechanism of selection is much stronger than the awe of the unknown.


Then there are differentiators, those that seperate the being from the knowing - Living the drama and understanding it share a mutex relationship, for both cannot be apprehended simultaneously without destroying the purity of their essence in isolation. And then we could laugh at each other, for emotions, for fears, for their unknowns. And life at once becomes merry, buzzing, and between all the mutual explosions we seemed to have found the harmonious universe, teeming with contradictions constantly resolving themselves like the melting ice - serving just the right purpose. I know my universe then, and become its non-physical center, perhaps even able to spin some universes on their axis at will and I breed gravity, as everything that looks at me closely enough falls to me, either to crash, or do the waltz at a safe distance. Everything becomes real, alive, colored and bright. I ignore the shadows while basking in the glory of light. Yet when I am tired, and before I sleep, there is a minute when I introspect, amazed that I beautify everything I touch, and everything I dont. It is in that minute, that I invent my dreams and rearrange my furniture for a better living. And what spills from my brimming claudron, simmering on heat, becomes my art, my signature, an alternate identity that I cant hide.


Sometimes when the malice touches the melting point, it flows as hope. Block the flow and it settles down as acceptance, let it flow and it covers just enough ground to lose its identity. And then we have names for all that grows from its carcass.

Through Knowing

How should we be living

1) Through knowledge
That I am
What I call me
It is possible to absorb everything
All my emotions
With so many techniques available
I can be free one day too

2) By accepting
The knowledge of action
Hoping mad with anger
Never wanting to be free from it
It is not a myth that
We can deal with all matter

3) By maintaining continuity
Maintaining thoughts
Of me being an entity
Neurons available in plenty
Creating images with limitless possibilities

4) Understanding sensations
And the unitary movements of thoughts
Then with the help of time
I survive and
I find the reality of joy

Symbols and logos.

I always found it amusing to see logos on meat factories. Animals apparently are mostly "happy" to get to slaughter houses to be packed in bags of plastic.

Afterall its how we package our goods that helps us hide our insensitivity to life of others in general.

Came across this blog dedicated to this: http://suicidefood.blogspot.com/

PS - Note the Psych evaluations:

1 noose = Mildly troubling

2 nooses = Appalling

3 nooses = Perverse

4 nooses = Deeply disturbed and disturbing

5 nooses = Ye gods! I must go wash out my eyeballs!

Sample these:

I Have All This

Sing me in to the streams
All at once
Exciting is the adventure
It's the law
And I can flow

I like hearing you
Your sensations
Looking forward to see
You join me in my dreams

Consciousness time and space
Allows me to play endless games
Of sensations and freedom
All in this moment
Closer to you as much as you are willing to....

I Feel

Feeling felt in well being
Pulses with enormous throbs


Hang around
Stay
You are in lap the lap of
Harmonious nature


The resources in my craft
The abundance of its availability


I love what I am and
Me and me in all my responses
Keep talking
You are in a very quiet place

Magical.

Everything magical, hides a trick, And beholds the fool.

Truth.

Halted trains,
Signs to a silence,
A trinkle,
The burden is now light,
Light that twists,
Receeds to a distance,
By the street lamps,
And a picket fence,
A dull mist,
Two dancers dance,
Constructed from memory,
Dancing like apes, a tradition,
Brought to a halt,
Under the kingdom of sun,
The head bent,
Through the glare,
Cold, sensations,
as I close my eyes,
In the effort to motion,
The creaking of steps,
Gaurded fences,
A need to exploit,
The manure of a world,
I walk past faces,
Following the coat,
And a cap,
And some Blinding white hair,
Purposeful,
peering through the hollows,
Walking Ghostly,
Perhaps a ride by the river,
I see myself,
One in many,
The song comes to a stop
And I follow my procession
Out reach my ability
But refine and soak in,
Into the domain of solace,
Let the story in,
Live the story,
That I wrote,
inch after inch,
To the end,
By the switch,
I walk the steps,
Into the day,
Of work,
And into a destination,
The train is now moving

The Four am Breeze

A certain kind of primary in the
Four am breeze
Gross and subtle

Energy seen in the
Four am breeze
Clear crisp and light

Increasing my subtle state this
Four am breeze
To a point called birth

How To Think?

 My certainties come from my power of imaginations. My imaginations come from concepts.

 How to think?
Evidence suggests that we have facts about us and the universe we find ourselves in. Amazing and gigantic data available about the universe and how the speed of light has been a great instrument to measure the entire galaxy.
What we see across the skies are pasts, this is what gives us the idea of how it was then, how was ours then. We do not know for sure what kind of universe are we living in. What kind of formations and what motions are at present out there. The chain reactions are known and the speculation of how it started has not yet been experimented.

Till we do not close the loop in physics it remains speculation.

How to think with a state called zero size?

 Nothingness like emptiness is simply a concept. Nothing of these concepts exist. You are always in some kind of production.

A moment comes in to being from a moment. A moment is also a self contained moment. Logic says this is absurd.
I a finite being imagines being the center of the infinite universe.

Can I begin now with:
I don't know.

I the observer of existence exists, how am I impermanent.
If it is evolution, does evolution have a self. It does know what is good and bad and what is valid for life sustaining itself permanently.
This mechanism cannot be self generated. And even this is now being analysed internally so as to accept it or reject it.
Without reference from memory there cannot be any movements internally.
Randomness of evolution looks certain as of now but the biologist cannot do away of order that they see in mutation and they do see the causes too. So these genetic compositions are stable. Something regular is going on here.

Rough Notes

Give me reality, not objective relationship reality. There are questions about absolutes and they are from my daily life, my relationships with humans around me. I search and I see only time tick away. I cannot even see time as you can. Relations between objects and their attributes and assumptions through objectivity are of no use if the need to find absolutes is abandoned. Metaphysical reality cannot be abandoned just because it does not find objective reality. What school do I belong to? What is that I hear? How different it is from others?


If metaphysical reality can be focused on why should it be abandoned?


If I reject emotions or desires of a human I'm interacting on a daily basis and so is what is being done to me by that too, it proves a point that these emotions or desires are devoid of intrinsic reality.
We understand causes and effects thereoff, how important are certain values that give rise to life sustaining emotions.
This thought of values to emotions is what is called the karma theory. Are values primary cause?  The difficulty of accepting them as primary is that it indicates an intelligence prior to causation.

Purpose decides interpretation
Of reality and of emotions

Fit myself somewhere
Is not an easy task

Working assumptions
Are for only the goals that I pursue

How important is experience
Framed through
Objective elaboration alone

Thoughts being born thus
Which may not find any neural networking
Alters the nature of reality

It is not something beyond
Externally we are very advanced
And the purpose is my ease of my mind
Which becomes the purpose of my reality
Which is never beyond

What is me
Is what I explore
And then the
Purpose decides interpretation
Of reality and of emotions

First Bloom of spring 2010. Iphone - on way to work.

The path that leads to the graveyard. As I walk to my work.

Taken from Iphone. Spring 2010. First bloom of spring and the first windfall.

Frozen Nest.

Taken from Iphone. Location: Des Moines Iowa, downtown, Winter 2010.

Friday evenings.

Every Friday evening, while I am travelling back home from work, I stop at 50th street 7th Ave. Just silent look around to feel the pulse of life all around.

Hundreds of men and women standing and staring at the lights all around them broadway shows, comics calling, gaint screens with images all round. Lovers arguing, with raw cuss words.

Mesmarizing. One needs to feel Manhattan by night.

Hold on!

How does one hold on to a whiff of air, to catch a breath, the knowledge that I need to open with a gasp what I hold in denial of your existence and my need of you?

Yet, I cannot feel you, nor with senses, neither with will. I can only exhume the dull acknowledgement of a sensation of life being sucked out when I first held my breath to end you.

I was not aware of you before. Not that I am specifically aware of you after, but this vague fear of not knowing how you died so effortlessly while I am rooted to my ground. Not moving an inch in all the miles I carry in my memory. Trying to hold on to you flowing away into the distance - all the miles lost in your memory, except a dull floating into the void and out effortlessly, fluid, languid.

Sometimes I wonder, if you travel away to span all distances where I might reach needing you. Wishing never to leave me wanting. Yet, do I know if the vast expanse where you live, omnipresent, is really centered around my existence?

You did not deny when I asked. You did not acknowledge when I probed. And the uneasiness of your silence chokes me like I choke you one breath at a time.

You tell me that I bind you to flesh, but its mine not yours, and its breathing and beating stubbornly to create a new world over the corpse of the one that died last night. And I was rocking you, like a child, Perhaps today was the justice I sought, where I could open my eyes and see the empty space, run into the winds, and tell myself its all you into all of me.

But it is not enough, how do I hold on to a whiff of air? You carry my sounds, into the distance, perhaps its your way of holding on to my words.

But all I hear back is my echo, a whistle past senses, of joy? or moans? How do I know what you said back to me? Hold on! let me hold you again in a gasp, and hear your throbbing heart, if you have one.

Conditioned waking
Realizing you and me

Perceptions of then
My feelings
And emotions arising
Conditioning the dreaming

You see
Knowledge
In continuity
An intellectual conditioning
Filling in and pouring out of
Joy

Words.

There was never 
a word of god.
What spoke 
was the god in you.
What was said 
was hell, devils,
When there was 
nothing to tell,
Say I must, 
let the gifts burn,
Let beauty perish, 
to my ugly turn


What is said is all hell,

When there is just nothing to tell.

Drunk!

I sip my wine. I do.
What descends is my ascent to glory.
I am told I am drunk, I am.
I am told I should care, I do.


Through the drunk beaten eyes,
You look beautiful too.


What descends is my ascent to glory,
I am drunk, am I?

My Own

Over my shoulder
Lied what I never understood
It had a source
A fear in some darkness
Surrounded by energies

If I wish
Words are will
Being is far far away from darkness
No other door
And yet the process that never ends

The State Of Living

The difference between living and getting caught in the state of living:


To be involved in the state of living promises entertainment and a million choices to choose from.
I am honest and I make a lot of sense in what I say and I know everything and I'm not interested in what you have to say. I never listen to you, for me you have to learn a lot, you are flawed but yet I like you and that is for my personal reasons known to me. What I say is new and you only repeat. Unfortunately I do not accept anything until you come to me with charts and figures. Yet I have faiths and beliefs which are sacred to me and if you happen to share them with me I will be very happy. We will transform together. We aren't ordinary you see. This is state of living.
Am I there or here?
Here is where?

The Notes Of Silence

The Notes of Silence
Sings a bird
Somewhere deep in forest



Singing the truth no more
"Yes I never lived
And I never will die"



The dust in its eyes
Same old song
All it hears is



The Notes Of Silence



The trees shouting
'No More, No More'
The spirits choking



Makes me wonder
These silences of whispers
A thought that I see



Yes the echoes
Makes me lonely
This forest of silences
In my pipe I cry



The Notes Of Silence


A head rolls
In pairs of yes and no
The winds blows
A song
Of a bird
Somewhere deep in forest



The Notes Of Silence

To a Wild Flower

Die ye, die
for the Wildflower
fits not in wild,
like the wildlover,
not in love,
is it acme,
the flower
to plant?
Like a mind
to ye body?
Die wild,
or live groomed?

Die, ye die,
and never
be born again,
to joy or pain,
I"ll shed a tear,
nourish you,
with a pear,
and the wild stump
will live again
a memory
of a scent lost

die ye die.