Ah-Ha ....you took these from Facebook,didn't ya ?

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A way with words,a long story short,away with you to distant lands !



my life's an open book but it ain't a library book for any arse to come and read,i'll give it to you to read if i feel like. If i don't then you ain't fit enough to read it or you ain't going to understand a thing if you read it !


I send my love with roses and a revolver. the roses to make you fall,the revolver just in case you commit the error of doing so...


Tried running a chariot of love with one wheel after the other didn't want to continue the ride,now the wheel that was left is pieces,should have just tried to save it instead or taken a hike.



The sun,ain't out tonight and he's shining bright in your side of the world ? Well,Glory Dame; I look at the East for a future for the Sun rises there tomorrow now why should i look West where the sun has already set?


Save democracy,Save secularism,Save the judiciary,Save the Ganga,Yamuna & non-existent Saraswati,Save the Taj (either the one in Bombay or the one in Agra),save the Babri Masjid or the Ram temple,Save the Maratha,Save the Tamil,Free Kashmir or Save Kashmir & Save India,Free India.After 1947,one thinks we are still far from Independence,if it's the British then,now we have to Free and Save India from Us !



I've always wondered, The Tigers must find the "save tiger campaign" quite
amusing,considering where they are placed in the food chain and all ....
i believe we should put up an Ad with a Menacing looking Tiger asking a man something like, "Come to the fight,like a man and not a pussy! "



I, I will always be a stranger to me, and to you I'm stranger still,so if you have the will you can let this stranger till,you can take whatever comes of this to a mill,it might be your daily bread,but do keep it in your head as you go to bed,it's given to you by a stranger still and when you intend to go for the kill,make sure you have paid my bill for services you once did will,for being a stranger is my will.




Bound am i by a definite end,a finiteness of limitation,the limitedness of death .


Heavens gates won't hold me back,i've gone through my hell, now i need what is rightfully mine. Move over you winged white thing,or i'll cut your wings and send you down to where i'm from !


What's wrong in calling a woman a bitch,isn't she a woman ?



My muse be more,for now you lead me to more than a poem,a novel and heightened flights of creative fantasy,you lead me to depths.Should i build a bridge,dear or should i fall ?



I was born,I didn't breathe. The doctor pinched me on my butt,i screamed and breathed. Couldn't she take a hint or now that it is done,should i be taking the hint ?



Did i leave something that was mine,is mine,will be mine or just plain wish was mine,when i finally left.For once i wish that rear view mirror showed me something catching up,even just a speck would do and i drive back !



Short haired women in world history teach us a lot about that tribe, one got burned as a witch,one bright one gave us an emergency,another had the finest collection of shoes !
So short haired women are usually witches who give emergencies and collect shoes !



I fell in love when in school,they told me that isn't love cos i don't know what it is,then i fell in love when graduating,they told me it ain't gonna last and so that this isn't it either (i.e every time i fell in love during that period) and i fall in love again...now they tell me this isn't love either....cos the ...one before or the one before the one before etc was true love !



Finally she concludes, i'm not her kind of man. and she's not my kinda woman. but,since we both are kind souls,we spared each other some time. I shrug and walk away saying, as if that was some relief !




I've been a victim of love during football season usually, but thankfully.This(2010) world cup is germanic,i do not understand the spaniards and orange is not the color of romance nor uruguay a romantic place....honest,me not falling in love has everything to do with the way this World Cup has come about.





-i've to say this,Facebook can be enlightening at times,but the comments to these were more than that. wish i could paste them too,unfortunately i'm doing those more than worthy souls the favor.

to you / to self ...to have been shelved.

?

the lover in me (for the woman) :

my love for you is true,
nothing in me can be as real as this.
And if you say no now;
i swear i'll be blue.
Should i do this flowers?
Or this old fashioned poem would do!
Honey there's no pain like Lonely.
i know you care not for trifles,
But if these moist eyes are unworthy still,
i'll leave as soon as i pay the bill.



Above - ( memories of a dingy restaurant at statue called Annapoorna,a woman across the table,coffee black and a rose in the bag,poem in hand ,and a broken heart inside )







Below - ( when you spent nine days calling out for freedom )




to bid bye....



My eyes can lie,
They'll never beg to die,
But this blood wants to run dry.
This heart wants friends to cry.
All the mind wants is to ask why:
this air i still breathe shy !
When all i want to do is bid bye.





.....and all this from years ago....one for a woman,one for self and none the better,but to shelved rather than paged .



*

the good lord provides !

.a living feeling runs through me

a desperation of sorts i can't say

i feel a depth of misery and i lie

of easy breathe

this is suffocation unleashed hard

or is it a soft decay of my mind ?

it may be a calling to go back

from the hand i learned my craft

homeward bound i dare not believe

the old hand says theres more now

more to be felt and beat into me !

my soul cries for more misery....

is it for you to bring it onto me?

i'll lie no more it's true i'm

outta the breathe you blew into me

my lungs are cold i breathe winter

i'm edging to the end : a lost dream

a prisoner a long ago a prisoner now

will angels draw me a sign at last..

or am i to crawl to the misery that:

is you.

the roads the same no signs anywhere

seems spring never went this way it's

monotony at it's happiest hour smilin

they sent me a Messiah,it was a woman

knew it strange i thought the Lord was:

a Man,isn't he?





written some time in May of 07.

random jotting.

(.possibility of a conversation in ten years.)

:



“I’ve decide to grow old and I mean it when I say it,but then you won’t and so there is no way we can grow old together”,she says with her new found coldness.


“If you didn’t want to do it,you shouldn’t have done it,tomorrow you will come up to me with a case of marital rape.”


“why do you have to keep talking like this?,don’t you lawyers ever talk straight?”


“what,now I’m not straight enough for you?,it’s true what they say isn’t it?”


“what?”


“Women prefer a quickie when they grow older,why don’t you just get out of my house and try your luck with the younger men,let’s see if anyone other than me is willing to do you a favour”


“bastard”


“I made love to you like the old times and all you can say is you are getting old?”


“just like the old times? Where did you find this renewed desire?”


“Can’t a man say thank you through a little love and be thanked in return?”


“thank you”


“bitch”




.

a thousand miles from you.

.
A thousand miles from you,
Yet,I left my heart outside your door.

My faith in the southern wind,
Makes be believe it’ll be taken to you.

If you hear the wind knocking ,
Do ask who for it’s probably my love.

Let me in,I mean no harm,
No silver and gold yet I promise you everything.

Have you lost faith in love?
Hold my hand,I won’t let go till the end of time.

I’ll carry you away,
Not to the stars or the moon but to an orchard of peaches.

If you ask for one,I give all,
And when you ask nothing at all,I’ll bring you spring before fall.

I’ll give you my name,
And your name I whisper in love to the tune of Vivaldi’s Spring.

I know I ain’t much,
But I keep my promises and I promise you faith and the joy of love.

I stand on two feet,
Now I’m on bended knee and in all honor it’s before you.



.

people make choice !

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People have made a choice, atleast we as a democracy have taught them to make a choice. They know their rights, they know their rights are being infringed upon day after day and they have taken a decision as to whether they will do something about it or not. Therefore no point in us complaining that there are no voices around or that they have died down. The fact is we have instilled in them the power of choice and globalisation has drilled it deeper into them, though we have not taught the average citizen anything more than that about democracy, but for our peace of mind we will say, there again he made a choice to not learn anything more about it. From our point of view i.e. we, who are prone to classifying are in a dilemma for we definitely cannot classify choice.


People have chosen how to lead their lives, of course they do not need to know of the larger consequences, they just want the happiness of living the way they want which for them is a complete right. He chooses to be known by his caste and we are not talking about the higher castes alone, we are talking of all (deleting the dye washed communist here).What was once a shame to many an individual is now a sense of pride. We have led them down a path for sixty years promising no discrimination and now that they know it is leading nowhere, they are choosing discrimination and that too with pride and also ask for their share of the pie. So, this is the same with religion, they have made a choice to not keep it personal anymore (excluding the intellectuals who also ask of others to keep it personal).


We are done with one portion of the Indian social system, now to the economic aspect of it all. People of backward classes used to take their gathering wealth as a way to find respect and they expected to get respect once they reached their former masters standard of living. That was during a time when being of a lower class meant being of a lower caste, but now that you hold your caste card up with pride, what about your desire to strive to be better off economically. Well, if I state this here then this is another excuse as to why the rich are getting richer. Not on my piece of writing. So, what about the choice of being known as a BPL or APL? Well, better economics says the choice is right there with the BPL, no harm with that card if the government perks make me carry a little extra money. So, the queue for that card and the reason a lot of better off people are carrying it, and for the organized effort for the same, you know it’s not coming from all the way down. The Indians are not known for being very long in many respects and the long arm of the beureaucracy doesn’t reach this far, as does not the seeds of the last pieces of legislation that remind us that this was once a socialist country and technically still is.


The power of choice has many add-ons along with it, the individual’s choice to be law abiding or not, now all that can be studied is why he has made these choices of his, the point of this study is to point a finger at someone here, because conservative opinion says that he is making all the wrong choices, but the bright side is, he is happier this way. Now, we can say all we want, about him not fighting it out, him not doing things the right way, about his education, but the fact remains as a state and as a democratic institution there is little left in our power, in the 21st century to make him do anything, for choice is a powerful weapon moreover it is a strong opium, now that he has had it, de-addiction is a huge ask!




.

one bourbon,one scotch and one beer.....a dance desire in between,oh! and love.

.

" Anything for a dance with you,my dear.Be it in the rain or on thin ice.I’ve been called a dreamer by my peers,and I say do I have to ask them whether I should dream? With two feet firmly on the ground I’ve to ask you though,shall I dream?I realise asking you is the right way.For I’m a definite in my dream and you another.Did you wish to be here,I do not know. "

.

We are in a ball room together,there are people around,people with faces I do not see,and as you return your electric chair dance after dance and I sit still as if I’m seeing Swan lake for the first time,with all it’s gracefulness .I do not know the men who asked you for those dances,but I do know,I haven’t asked yet. Our eyes,they do not meet almost as if I do not exist in this ball room.You see through me,as man after man walks past me and you nod at their request,and I ask why haven’t you said no to anyone yet? Are you saying,a dance is all you get or are you searching for the right pair of dancing shoes or most of all do you just love to dance?

I’m dressed in my best,after years of being in rags and I see myself as something worthy to be seen in the mirror,and something in the back of my head tells me I’ve taken the ain to be worthy of a look,and I look at the glass of bourbon I see the reflection and again a voice calls out Maker’s Mark.Well that tells nothing but the name of the whisky but a reflection and the name,hints at the hesitation that my pedigree brings,when it comes to love and going about it or the success thereafter.

All in a dream,and a nineteenth century man,I’ve always been which falls back on the scene in the dream.So I ask for another drink,Scotch maybe it’ll reach my balls unlike the earlier Bourbon and with the knowledge of their existence I hope to come to you my love and ask,for this is the nineteenth century dream and for all purposes in my book it is my job to ask and not yours to even give a hint or even a slight nod,but then how will you when I’m as good as an invisible man.

As,I feel Johnnie Walker blue and running to my balls,I turn to see you gone.I breathe a curse and hang my head down,and show first signs of relief on seeing my trusted pair of sneakers and in a few minutes I let out the scream of anguish.

I was never here to dance was I? I’m here for the beautiful lady who just walked out the door clad in that blue saree of hers,which fine as it was somehow,kept telling that the one who wears me is the prettiest of them all,I’m just the side kick .I was here to see my muse,as she danced so that I knew what poetry in motion meant for me.

Now that she’s gone and I’m as good a fool as there can be,one who can’t dance,can’t ask a woman her hand for one and who still loves his sneakers.So,I’ll just have a beer now.

.. sitting on the steps at Rajiv Chowk Metro station,and this is what i come up with,my gratitude to the Manipuri lady who gave me company...