Bottoms up

A lot CAN happen over a cup of coffee. Well, a lot more HAPPENS over bottles of alcohol. This is something i've witnessed over the past few years. Though i don't drink, i'm blessed with engineer-friends who do. They've got excellent career graphs. However, they turn into completely different animals once they are plastered. It's almost funny. Some of them become lyrical and start spouting long-buried poems. Funny? Some begin to comment on social issues they don't give a shit about when they are sober. Funny. Some dance a fusion of Classical and Western. Not funny. But one thing is for sure: you get to notice a part of them you otherwise would miss. Though alcohol drinks up the alcoholic in the long run, it throws some much-appreciated light on personalities and stories from personal histories. As if all good, sad, interesting tales require are some drops of liquor into the system. And then some more. I wish i could write an ode—à la Harivanshrai Bachchan—instead of this lacklustre blog post—to the drunkards. But then, my friends aren't addicted yet. They are just occasional morons who dream of turning into superheroes instead of cartoons someday.

I wish I could write down...

I wish I could write down like I used to... but now-a-days its more like laziness has crept over me and I'm stranded inside of me. I'm working two jobs 6 1/2 days a week to make sure my idle mind doesn't get it fodder for devil and my pocket stays comfy. But still I'm getting all weaned up of my earlier creative side which included newspaper clippings and poems and stories and novels alike.

I wish I could write down like I used to... about the times I felt like killing my wrist and live but I never did it and instead used to pen, to write down the shame. I wrote down everything that I felt under sunburn. Today, I'm writing it all but not in details like I used to. My words are not as sharp as it was with life before, with narrow tips and broader lips, I used to catch all my figments with words.

I wish I could write down like I used to... with angst and pangs and songs and dance performed by paragraphs and stanzas and quarts and limericks and acrostics and haikus. But those were the times when I had lot of time to gaze into the greenery around the emptiness of sky and the cloud of rains and smile. I laughed a lot then with hardly any care of how the brutal world could get and how wrong was I.

I wish I could write down like I used to... of endless anecdotes I'd love to entail for legacy to be made out of me. I know this futile dream of fame and glory for my work which I haven't did, is so true to me. Its so numbingly naive and full of dices and displays of luck at every crossroad of time. I don't desire to be read now for I don't care anymore. I just wish to write like I used to.

I wish I could write down like I used to... like I'm doing now...

I care no more

No more nests to build, no more seeds to spill
I care no more
of love and pain and change and shame
I've walked too long with my head intact
and my draining brain and my stupid lines
can't stay the same with my face of ole
need to paint a life i never knew

No more woods to carve, no more water to draw
I care no more
of hatred and rain and sun and bane
I've touched that canvas of reasoning in past
and have seen with my eyes how wrong i am
won't give a minute to my sorry state
will move on and move long afar

No more repairs needed, no more words to preach
I care no more
of trust and fray and loss and game
I'd heard some tales of my gods up there
the mistakes they did and their lies
now i need no god, no words to chant
I'll create my image on the drooping sunlight.....

Truth spoke last night

A wind of change whistled quietly
adjusting itself around the hurdles
nothing came in between
no one called to stop it
all went swept and strayed
it doesn't happen very often
but the way it did was strange
people shook themselves up
talked aloud and made a vow to change
it was then when we heard
something being said, something being done,
something for the good,
something for the love,
something for the kids
this wind changed to a storm very soon
and roared in its full rage
all were awakened, some from laze,
some from silence and some for grace,
it was a sight to behold,
it doesn't happen every day,
when people come out to see air
and find its voice in their ears,
while hope gives way to life,
and makes its presence felt,
that goodness prevails even today
and pain make hearts melt,
no one would forget such a sight
whne truth spoke last night.

Bests among the rest

The best of minds may not be slated on the first bench,
just like the best criminals are not found in a cornered prison,
the best of musicians might be busking under a dirty bridge,
the best of writers may have a weak pen,
the best director could be well walking around with a handycam,
the best of hope may fall in a beggar's bowl
the best of footballer may not have a boot to spare,
the best of sages may be in the deepest cave,
the best of all singers may be hiding in his bathroom,
the best of teacher could be the one using the least of rod and more of eyes,
the best of trancriber might be sleeping while the audio loads on,
the best of lawyer may not have swindled many,
the best of driver may not have driven downhill,
the best of GOD may not have seen Earth at all,
the best of artist may not even know his masterpiece,
the best of love may not have touched you yet,
the best of confusion may be created out of calm,
the best of friend may not be in the crowd,
the best of words may be waiting for silence to occur,
the best of food may not conquer your hunger,
the best of nectar might not have been in those bosom,
the best of engineers may not be a foreign stickler,
the best of Indians might have not taken birth in India,
the best of doctor might be drinking well water,
the best of snaps might have never seen the studio's darkness,
the best of questions may not require the best of answers,
the best of best may not be best anymore, any less!

Finest doggerels of all time

Weariness

I’m tired of the face I’ve got,

I’m tired of my heart inside

I’m tired of everything that breathes

I’m tired but I can’t go to sleep…

Better were the days, no more indeed

When I laughed at my present

& cried all night

At least no more was my grief to greet

Wasn’t I the only walking alone?

Slowly the ambiance showed its hue

And I lost my sanity to fate……

Some choose death and some choose life

and some get trapped in the gap within

none wants to die, for the love of life

all wish to survive and see all sides

how feeble man gets when the truth reckons

humble mind speaks, heart never listens

saga it is and saga do lie

our life is a beauty in the faintest light

we want the sun to never set,

neither the moon to get upset

our reasons are hapless and questions too

a few tried to change but died in the loop

God is kind but he is busy, sort of.

Drunks don't go far

Drunks don’t go that far

They can’t move their dreams

They won’t die the day as well

For they wish to stay, not leave

Their friends are ever awake

The glasses, shades and drink

Drunks don’t go that far

They can’t move their dreams

They won’t die the day as well

For they wish to stay, not leave

Their friends are ever awake

The glasses, shades and drink!

Ending steps

This skin will nest maggots on end

No sign of me stays through long

My breath won’t kick dust, no more

Within it will move death inward?

Who was I ever to smell soil?

Besides the token name I’ve got

Few drops of cry won’t last

And some words of tales, lost

Under this cloud I had moved by

Sucked in air and warmth of light

Seen some dreams in dark night

Loved some, hated few all in life

May I’ll never return back in sight

May I’ll never see my face

May this stays the longest time

i ever thought i could make...

Forgotten days

‘Some days are meant to fade away

some roads we leave and move ahead’

these words were who consoled me then

can’t say the same right now again!

I do feel good to breath this life,

life that could’ve never touched my sight

but that smile do occurs at night

and that face which can’t lie

flooding my thoughts,

belying my convictions,

stabbing my freedom,

freedom to think the way I like!

Many eyes confronts and moves aside

but that smile stay on, alone

as if to provoke my careless state

and question me for my loneliness

innocence pervades bellicose debate

debate which wins down her gaze

can’t say how much I miss those days

better off like the man they dreamt,

albeit I can’t deny my dismal way

still that ‘sparkle niche’ brings disdain!

my head shuns onto higher aim,

aim to curb this baloney instead!

Friendship days

No days can match my days with you

filled my life with words and hue

you my friend, you know me good

may not remember the days we ruled

but I do, the moments had sped

we grew up tied up like fools!

had our times in bad and hope

you were there, as it always showed

a friend like you, needed, more than food

though my life has changed much

yet not seen anyone closer than you

your place is in my heart’s door

day to celebrate may come and go

but our friendship won’t escape this truth

we are and we will be as we should

held by breath and goodwill could,

never leave our touch for eternal world!

Mistaken

The sound that grumbles in my ear

are not the voice of song or odes

It is the deep pain of those in fear

out of their home and onto street

No one knows the grave reason

for this disruption and this commotion

yet going through this season

deepened in sanguine ocean…dead

permeated smell of blood on floor

someone, anyone, lets get forward

try out something, anything new

ask the killers to stop their bullets

“let my people on land live!”

the surly fever wraparound me

I hold a pen in my weak fingers

covered in shivers of shrouded cry

asking for kindness to smile.

Stains of war

Blood has spilled, rain bade bye

Sun still kissing the wounds alive

Roads are waiting, traveler’s unseen

Is it a beginning or end, it seems’

Days ago, kids were out

Days ago, kitchens smelt fine

Days ago, smiles did smiled

Days ago, veins flowed strong.

Story has changed, curtains stained

Some surviving on dusky breath

Others forsaken by angels of death

God visited but he too left

Didn’t say a word; simply wept.

Unheard words

These are just words…..endless words

Words that means none to some

Still for others, on abode of love

These are just words…..poems

Lost in middle of waves to clash

Just like words of budding truth

Alone nowhere in forest of wild fruits

Tasted sin and did some good

These words never meant so much

Between silence and chaos indeed.

Birthday thanks

Some days are long, some go too short,

but in between, a few, keeps the rest apart

very unique, serene and subtle,

These days stands tall on our year' crown

when our friends are born

may be, this day took quite a long ago

lost in the mist of history, left nowhere to go

when the Great Hands thought for a change

this friend of mine happened on such a day

she might have been angelic then

but she hasn't been any less graceful hence

life has its corner, its no empty circle

things take place in a spate of chance

world and its rules leave no time to see,

the beauty behind our birth, its endless mysteries

we are dragged on and we move too fast

having no question to ponder or ask,

we earn a few friends that stand along

some due clouded in mundane stroll

This day is too short to celebrate this gift

every moment's in debt to that heavenly deal

when he thought it right to twist in trends

and let you end up as my lovely friend!