Monday, October 31, 2011

Killing Bees

I watched her leave, as the door slammed shut,
Self contneded, i flipped through the channels.
The night was vibrant, a shinning silver cross,
But all I could remember were her tears.

Follow the light, for light is wisdom,
And they followed to be killed by the giant slipper.
A buzz on the window screen, elated i watch,
Observing, their dance over the light of truth.

She could have stayed, my heart yearned,
She could have satisfied my urge to live,
But she left, with a bloodied face drenched in tears,
And the bees were all that were left to kill.

I watched her leave, as the door slammed shut,
A blood stained face she cleans.
She too followed the light, with hopes to fly,
But to be crushed like the bees, a strugle for life.

Saturday, October 8, 2011


.. Memory are like splashes of water, falling from the sky, they disappear with time..

Drops splashed open the door, a mountain path,
I walked, wet as the rain lashed its might on me,
A mud covered cloth to hide my shame, I walk on.

Its raining memories, washing my mind, making me numb,
Each drop a stab from the past, as I walk the path,
The rain won't stop, the blue of the water disappears.

I remember the rain, washing my dreams away, despair
The path is difficult, alone I walk, as I leave my comrades behind,
A turn for each, as they go their own ways, away from the pain.

I watched the gray of the sky, clouds laden with sadness,
Its the same inside my heart, my soul clouded with fear,
The colors fade, turn red as they splash on the ground.

Colors play their part, as they fade away into nothingness,
I have to survive, my heart says, I hold my staff, up I stand,
The mountain would be overcome, and the rain shall stop.

And I walk, away from everything that ever defined me.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Cat with the Blue Eye

The cat spoke, with spurts of laughter masking its voice,
"Do you know what makes this world a place worth living?",
A blank stare on my face, that was all I could give.

The cat smiled, its bright eyes shone, blue,
It straightened its fur coat, licking its palm.

It leapt from the table to my shoulder, to whisper,
"Its that little bird over the fence, which I need",
"That yellow cute bird, which would become my dinner one day".

An evil snarl, as it leapt back, its gaze fixed on me,
An evil smile sprung upon its whiskered face,

"Open your eyes, look around, find your bird",
The cat purred, as it lay, playing with its wool ball,
Then without warning it leapt out of the window, and my eyes followed.

With a lightning move, it had the bird in its claws,
A little struggle, and a splash of blood, a little tweet.

I understood what the cat had said, and my eyes watched,
As the cat feasted on the dead bird, relishing its taste,
I had to find my bird, the bird to make this world a place worth living.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

The Reflections

I see my self in her eyes, reflections of my soul...

The eyes talk, make the world believe,
Her little eyes, they sang the story,
Our eyes meet, I see her story painted, like a movie.

The mirrors are everywhere, they are you, in you,
The mirrors made me love, made me hate.

Her little lips parted into a smile,
Her little rose lips came together in a kiss
As our lips parted, she began to sing, the story.

The walls soon will reflect, what you are,
The walls would loose their color, reflect your monster.

Her little hands hold on to mine,
I feel comfortable, fear nothing but me,
The warmth soon fades, as the fingers slip, empty space.

The water runs wild, flooding the world,
And I see my reflection, I drown in my reflection.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

The Painted Face

"...The candle flickered, and so did his shadow, till they became one in darkness.."

The paint brush in his hands quivered, spreading splashes of red,
The giant shadow danced as the flame of the candle flickered,
A smile, he drew, then a sad face, the eyes did the talking,
He won't move, for his shadow remains intact, inept for the world.

A fine line he drew, to divide, to create, the line grew, cold,
A fine line he drew, to stop, to make, the line grew, sad.

The shadow never grew tired, for ages, it just followed him,
But today it stands, still, its calm, as the storm approaches,
Its mayhem in his head, he clutches, he screams, then he sits,
The shadow paints, the fine lines that define emotions on the face.

The candle flickered, as it ate the moth that lingered around,
The shadow danced, rhythmic with that of the flame, steady, but chaotic.

The eyes looked back, as the brush painted them, created them with a cares,
The fine lines don't exist any more, for the face as a whole is alive,
The candle burns away into the night, slowly being eaten by its own light,
The shadow disappears, and all that is left is the painted face.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Half Face

....He watched the half painted face on the wall smile...

His eyes opened to a new morning, white lilies on his table,
The bright yellow tint of the morning sun, streamed his mind,
He watched the half painted face on the wall, blinked his eyes.

The nights spoil, spread under his bed, he could feel the heartbeat,
As he stepped aside to his new day, the face on the wall smiled,
The smile turned to laughter, pride his only emotion.

The spider crawled away, as his hands reached in to the depths,
Depths of his unaltered life, the lips parted in half a smile,
Love, he knew was that which changed the face, the half face.

The lily bloomed, a half white silver petal, fading at its root,
Something had changed from the previous night, spiders in his brain,
The red pool that had formed, reflected his evil self, the passion.

He watched the lily fade away, the white turning to pale rust,
He watched her smile fade away, the sunlight fade into darkness,
The spiders crawl back, as he laid her down, under his bed.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Wings of Dream

Is this life just a path to the place, that we all have come from...

His eye glimmered, with an unending passion,
As his hands worked the soft features of his dream,
Delicately he shaped it, made it real, from his own desire,
Then he breathed life into it, as he watched it fade.

He watched it grow into a beauty, a beautiful nymph,
He gave it everything, desire from his deepest heart.

It had a heart, which beat with every changing season,
It had a soul, which he thought he had owned,
The beauty grew, grew into something he couldn't comprehend
Until it was time to part, but his desires strong not to let go.

Then the story of tears, and sorrow, that passed,
The story of loneliness, that swept across his mind.

He realized that he couldn't shelter his dream for ever,
And agreed to let it free, free into a world of conceit,
But his pride was broken, aged he looked back at time,
Watched his dream bear wings and fly away, loneliness his aid.

He waited, till it had gone out of sight, and then a sigh,
As he picked up his walking stick, with a retreat of an old man.

The Stone Heart

...A man who is a master of himself, can end a sorrow as easily as he invents a pleasure....

He felt a pain surge up his body, as he sat rocking on his chair,
"You are hollow inside, ridden with the ugliness of sin", the voice echoed within his brain.
He remembered his first sin, the day when he broke her heart,
"Poor being, fragile at heart, she din't desrve my love", he consoles himself.

"What is a man without his soul", his shadow reproached him in the dark,
"But i have an everlasting youth, full of beauty", he argued back.
"Have you seen the sins that mar your heart, with lines of guilt uglier than that of age?"
"Alas its not me who ages, or who loses his beauty", he sighed a reply

He slowly gets up from the chair, his hands tremble with the fear of unknown,
His steps are heavy, as he moves closser to the velvet screen,
His eyes are weary, so is his soul, afraid, he moves the screen that hides his shame,
His eyes shut themselves in disgust, at the sight of the ugliness that greets them

He recalled the beautiful summer evening, as he replaced the screen over the portrait
The evening which had stirred the lust of beauty in him, which had instilled the fear of age
His words from the evening played across his mind, as he left the room which housed his sin,
A glitter of unfailing youth filled his eye, as a line of wickedness swept across the portrait,

Beauty is a sin, he had heard them say, envying his youth, as they aged,
For some, an innocent admiration, and for others a lustful shame,
Knowledge he lusts for, as he owns beauty and vanity, as his sin,
His heart knows no love, nor he feels the need for compassion.
For his heart died the day he exchanged his soul with that of the portrait's

The portrait of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The Stone Heart

I sat by the fire, watching it slowly eat on the wood,
A cup of warm coffee sat next to me, steaming as it sat,
The eyes wobbled a bit, catching a bee that hummed past,
And I watched it sit on the plastic flower, was it a dream ?

I watched the clock hands move slowly, talking to each other,
Or was it the ticking of the hands that made the chatter loud,
I sat under the burning bush, that spoke of endless misery,
I watched the bush talk of love which arose from fear,

The bee hummed on, as it buzzed around the bush in the sky,
To be eaten by the lizard that came along, what a wonderful creation,
I heard the crushing of the wings, as the lizard closed its lips on the bee,
I watched it wreath in pain, watched it breath its last,

Thursday, September 1, 2011

The Purple Room-2

He sits on the park bench, watching the little flower fall,
It swirls, it floats around, and it finally touches the ground,
He picks it up, decorates it with his thoughts, and gives it a form,
His stare burns the empty petals down to ash, the flower dies,
His brain, a crumbled leaf, the blind spot of his life.

He sits in his room, stares at the flickering television screen,
The black and the white dots, make up his life, empty to the end,
He watches the color change, and life come to the screen, a drama unfolds,
His fingers move across, presses the power off, the drama fades,
His brain, a crumbled leaf, the blind spot of his life.

He walks up on the street, sees a beggar sitting, begging by the side,
A nickle he throws at the beggar, as he runs away, runs in disgust,
The beggar doesn't say a thing, continues to beg for his daily bread,
The nickle turns to gold, a loss for the man who gave, and a gain for the beggar,
The brain, a crumbled leaf, the blind spot in our lives.

The Purple Room - 1

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

A Fairy Tale

He sat before the mirror, rocking
Smoking his pipes, clutching his stick.
A butterfly fluttered its wings inside the mirror
He waved his hands, into a fairy tale

The butterfly flew around, innocence,
Only good it knew, as it flew from flower to flower
Then with a greenish haze, feathers sprout on its wings,
The butterfly grew into a parrot infront of his eyes

The parrot repeated his words,
It mumbled what the world threw at it,
The parrot grew, mature enough to understand,
Feathers turned to fur, and a four legged creature it became

It was cunning, as it hid itself inside the hazy dream,
It learned the ways of the world, cheating its fellow being
The haze in the mirror hid it away, safe from danger
But how long would the youth last, as the fur disappeared

He saw himself, seated with the stick, and the pipe
Helpless as he sat by the mirror, gazing into its depths,
Wizened, he knew the world, he knew its ways,
And then he waved, death, a fairy tale

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Nocturnal Rain

A soft knock on the door, broke my sweet dream,
As rumble of the clouds drowned the siren into night,
A bloodied hand impressed on my window, I opened,
A bloodied face, bloodshot eyes, stared back at me.

"Please save me from the hounds of law,
For an innocent I am who killed to save my dear life",

He pleaded, A bloodied knife hidden under his sleeve,
"I will leave before the first ray of the day", he said.

Years flew back infront of me, as I saw his face,
A bloodied knife I did hide, as I pleaded for a shelter,
The rain did lash, and the darkness swelled around,
That night, I was saved, for in kindness he took me in.

My instincts had something else to say, they screamed rather,
But a human I was, and a heart I had, I took him for his sincere face,
The rain grew wild, and the winds howled, the darkness ate my fears,
A bed I gave, and hot water to wash the blood off, and I slept in peace.

That night I knew the reason of unrest, the unrest of my instinct,
Years ago, that night, I stood by the good man's bed, thinking,
"He needs to die", I thought, "For he may exchange me for the reward".
I slipped the knife into his heart, his screams drowned by nocturnal rain

And that dream muffled my screams.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Death Has Wings

I watched the curtain slide, and the crystal glass window,
As the first light of the dawn flooded my eyes,
I heard the morning prayers, blaring through the speakers,
Promising life, and peace forever.

I had heard the same promise, as I had opened the doors,
The same prayers, did I chant that morning,
My hands felt the trigger, as I steered, my life with my hands,
And the life of the kids who sat with me.

It would fly down, It would come as a surprise, they had said,
Its everywhere, Its here as we speak, they had warned,
I felt a chill run down my spine, as my soul shattered in seven places,
I felt the cold, as the death flew down to me.

The curtain fell, the crystal window shattered, as my eyes closed,
The prayers were said, and peace was forgiven that day,
I heard the cries, and my ears were deafened with the sound,
And the brightness of the promise was all that I saw.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Being at War

Lets deal with the devil inside,
Said the voice which had died,
And with the shrill laughter they rose,
To the moon light that masked the night.

He had a knife, and a sword in the right,
"How would you want to die, Master?", he cried,
Only one would survive tonight, this I knew,
Lets play, and lets make this night senile.

He shrieked, he screamed like a wounded lion,
And with the sword, he charged, to take the life.
I shrieked, I screamed, like the master, the slave,
And to death in glory, did I charge.

The night is long, lets drink to Life,
The days are gone, lets drink for joy,
He danced, a madman's dance, magic on his tongue,
And he danced, a firefly's dance around the sun.

And when the dance ended, he took the sword,
A slash to the right, and his own throat in line,
The blood that sprout, like fountains, as he breathed his last,
The devil was gone. so was my pride.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

August Sky

Her little face, with sadness smeared upon,
She sits on the wooden ledge, with a tear drop.
The sky is bright, but her face reflects darkness,
The day is long, longer than you can expect.

There is something she fears, "Disappear" she screams,
Its the reflection she sees on the mirror,
There is something she fears, and its within her,
The white clouds that litter the sky, reflects her fear.

Her soul is like the August sky, clear towards the south,
But the darkness of the day creeps up from within,
As she moves on to the autumn of her life, gray and dark,
Where she sheds tears for the ones she has lost.

Its her name carved upon her bosom, as a symbol of shame,
She hides it, but the rains expose her shame,
The darkness of the day doesn't help her cheer up,
As she still sits by the wooden ledge, with a tear drop.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

The Count's Wife.

"...And by the light stood a beauty so divine, that I wanted her to be mine"

"There should be a silver lining", I thought,
As I moved on, on the stony path uphill.
"Sire, would you mind camping up here",
Bellowed my guide, as his steps started to fail.

The gray of the sky was settling in, as we camped,
And the twilight soon faded into the night.

"Why doth thee wish to enter the castle?",
Asked he with a curious glister in his eye.
"I wish to meet the Lady of the house,
For I have heard praises of her beauty"
, I replied.

A moments silence, and a hint of fear in his eyes,
Shocked and shaken did he reply.

"Sire its not safe in the night, for I've heard screams,
Screams of pain and anguish, screams of revenge with blood lust",
"What happened to her?"
, I asked curious to my bones,
"Oh let the dead rest in peace", he crossed himself, as he replied.

A cold sweat broke out on his forehead,
A shudder of despair enveloped his being.

"I will pester thee till you speak,
For I am a man who doesn't give up on ease"
And after a long persuasion he broke, and he gave in,
"But I warn thee sire, thy shan't see the light of dawn if I speak".

The moon peeked occasionally from the clouds, hiding at times,
As my guide wiped the sweat on his forehead that divulged his fear.

"It was their wedding night, and bride was in her chamber,
As a party of robbers, armed to kill, invaded the castle.
The Count, a brave soldier himself, killed a many with his sword,
Until a scum hiding, drove his knife deep into his bosom"

He paused for a while, scared as before,
And then took a deep breath as he resumed.

"She was dragged out, her cloths ripped of,
And as each of the men took his turn, she lay there helpless,
And her screams were muffled by the wicked laughter."

He stopped, and looked around, scared by the presence of a being.

I could hear the winds howl, through the hollow mountain,
And the gentle splash of footsteps on the water.

"When they were done, they left, leaving her to die,
She crawled back to her beloved lover, as she died",

"Sire, that's the story I know, and I shall not continue,
For whomever has recited the tale, never lived to see the dawn"

The story had captivated me, or may have enslaved me,
For I kept pushing him, now offering money for the same.

"Why are you so scared?", I asked losing my patience at last,
"She is still alive, and haunts these mountains", he replied.
"Finish the story, or I shall take your life,
For I hate cowards, who live their lives in fear of a hearsay"

He had no choice, he thought, for he would die,
So he gathered up his strength, and pulled up his bags as he walked.

"Lets go to the castle and I will tell you the story en-route,
For I shall die tonight, either by your hands or by the Count's wife"

So we started our uphill journey and reached the castle in an hour,
An eery silence was all that left, as we passed the castle doors

The courtyard was flooded with the silver moonlight,
And the long shadows of the pillars that stood by.

"Here she died", he said pointing to the ground,
"And here she was born again, to vent her fury on men"
A light breeze whistled by, as I heard on to the story,
"None of the robbers lived to see the morning light", he said

The creaking of doors, sent chills down my spine,
As I listened to his closing lines.

"From that day on, she preys on men, who wander by,
To spend the night in mountain, but for us, we are locals here,
And she doesn't harm, for we bring her the men she wants"
He sighed and sat down by the stone pillar, gazing up at the stars.

There was silence, a gloom of despair,
Which was broken by a painful scream.

"She is here!", he screamed, as he ran for the doors,
But the doors closed upon him, as he fell.
I could see a faint light, as it slowly filled the corridor,
And by the light stood a beauty so divine, that I wanted her to be mine.

She came close, a beautiful smile adorned her face,
And that smile was the last thing I saw, as she took me in her hands.

An embrace covered my body as lust filled my being,
And I watched the poor guide, clenching his chest as he died,
She took me into her sweet chamber, filled with fragrance of rose,
She dimmed the light and I swam with her, as my eyes closed.

Her warmth was what I felt, against my body,
Her killer gaze was what I had missed, as she lay by me.

The night was about end, and with passion did she kiss me,
And as I kissed her lips, I felt the cold breath from her being,
And slowly I gave into her hands, losing my self to sleep,
A sweet sleep I had never known, as I slept forever.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

City of Stones

This is the 100th post, so I thought why not write about something which doesn't make any sense.

The silence had settled in, as the carriage rattled away,
And through that silence, I began my journey back home.

Myriad lanes writhed in front of me, like the desert snakes,
Some loud and pompous, while others silent as the day.

I chose the one which ran by the river, with lush green trees,
I chose the one which gave me comfort, and made me feel glee

Purple flowers bloomed by the mud covered bank, some trampled upon,
There was beauty there, a beauty that came with pain.

I walked on the cobbled street, as it led my way,
And soon I came to my city, where my heart felt at peace.

The walls rose high on either sides, as I walked past them,
The city was alive, as life bloomed around me.

Beautiful women wished me luck with smiles as I passed,
And my path twisted and turned, as it ended at my fate.

I was hesitant to knock, as I stood by the gate.
I was hesitant to knock, "Fifteen years", I thought,

I could see the eyes that looked at me, eyes that surrounded me,
I could see the lifeless smiles, which would never cease.

The knock hadn't lost its charm, when the gates opened,
Beyond the gates lay my life, lay the memories I gained.

No face came to greet me, nor a hand to lead me in,
And slowly I picked up my staff, and entered into my memory.

By the porch sat a shriveled figure, shaken with age,
The eyes were cold as stone, with no smile on the face.

I walked in closer to the figure, as it sat by porch,
A greeting did escape my being, as my body wrapped him in a hug.

This is my home, in the city of stones, where no one lives but me,
This is my home, in the city of stones, where the smiles never cease.

Sunday, June 5, 2011


The gray of the sky, overshadowed,
With no sun to light up my smile for you,
Said the wind to the cloud as he passed by.

Its night and there is no sun, lier my friend,
Why do you try to lighten my mind with your lie
Replied the cloud to the wind, as he blew

Do you see the moon, and its radiant light,
Still why do you hide it from reaching the earth,
Pushed in the wind to irritate the cloud.

I will rain, and then I will leave,
I will rain all this sadness, and then I will let in the light,
Shot back the cloud at the wind.

Why are you sad my dear,
Tell me and I will blow the sadness all away,
The wind was in a jovial mood now.

What do you know of hardships, to carry your burden,
All you do is blow around and fly around,
Replied an irritated cloud, about to snap.

I do fly around, but I do carry a lot
I push you with your sadness all along the sky,
The wind wanted to pick a fight

And they fought along for a long time,
The wind blew hard and the thunder did roar,
And finally the cloud gave up, as she cried.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

White Drapes

"...By the crimson ribbons of blood, on the white drapes..."

I heard the rattle of the chains,
As I passed by the lone swing.
It swayed slowly in the wind,
Under the light of the full moon.

My memories played out their parts,
As I passed through the doors.
My house, my home, now in rubles, it stood,
My house, my home, where my life I lived.

The moon light floods the room,
And the mirrors reflect, hung by the walls,
I built my memories here,
And have buried them with the house.

I enter my room, a sweet fragrance fills my being,
A sweet fragrance of rose and lemon grass
It was the room where I grew up,
The room where I found my first love.

The white drapes hang by the window,
Slowly floating with the night breeze,
The moon light casts a shadow of it,
And a shadow is what remains of it.

He was a young lad, a handsome man,
And the drapes held his memories,
He would climb every night through the window,
To kiss me a peaceful sleep.

I embrace the drapes, as it holds his fragrance,
A fragrance I had started to love,
I stay there all night, by the window,
As the moon light fills my heart with peace

Nights on end, we sat by the window,
Sharing our dreams, dreams of days to come.
We would count the stars, and watch the fireflies dance,
And with the first light, he would leave with a sweet hug.

Every night, moon witnessed our growing love,
As it lived on for days to come.
And suddenly one night, he didn't come,
That day neither the fireflies danced or the moon shined.

But Its no more the same night,
As the sun peeks through the trees,
And my memories, refreshed by the morning light,
Saw the crimson ribbons of blood, on the white drapes.

Then one night he came, and broke my heart,
"I can't be with you, for I am going far", he said
Then no more I saw him, as he bid farewell,
Leaving a sweet kiss to remember him by.

I was broken, I was shattered, and I missed him,
And nights I would stand by the window,
And nights I would weep for him to return,
Until one night I stabbed my self in the heart.

My blood splattered on the white drapes,
And crimson streams did it leave behind,
I died that night holding the drapes close to my heart,
For it held his sweet fragrance, a fragrance I had loved.

So every night I come, to live my love,
Every night I live, till the sunrise,
And as the I see the white drapes in the light,
I disappear with the morning mist.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

The Eighth Shell

"...How was i different from them?, I thought, I pondered..."

I sat by my table, with a wine glass, half empty,
And on the table were lined seven shells,
Empty, for they had served their purpose,
And as I sat, the seven memories came to life.

The streets were washed in the yellow light,
As I saw him beat her to death, with bare hands,
His eyes burned with furry, and his hands did the deed,
And I emptied my first shell, as he came crashing down.

My sleep couldn't make peace with me, as the children cried,
They cried in heart chilling screams, as I entered the room,
The mother sat there, eating away, as the kids cried to hunger,
And I emptied my second shell, as her blood splattered the wall.

It was the great war, that made us leave our homes,
And I saw the old man push along his son, youth in his prime,
An able bodied man, but he had lost to slumber and laze,
And I emptied my third shell, and he slept for eternities to come.

He was a rich man, and his richness knew no end,
And at the slave market I saw him, I saw him with his little one,
As men quoted price for her tender skin, I saw the mammon in his eyes,
And I emptied my fourth shell, his riches he couldn't take along.

"Why do they love you more?", he screamed as with an ax he charged,
"Why do they not love me the same", and his envious blows found their mark,
His brother lay in a pool of blood as he cleaned the ax,
And I emptied my fifth shell, as he fell next to his brother.

"I am beautiful", She would chirp in every morning,
"My beauty, knows no boundaries", In the evening I would hear her say,
"You are no beauty", she smirked as she crashed acid on her lover's face,
And I emptied my sixth shell, and to dust her beauty was dethroned.

I loved her more than my life, she was my soul, my beloved,
Until I found her with men, men I had never known,
I found her with lust in her eyes, as she satisfied her carnal needs,
And I emptied my seventh shell, as her naked limp body soaked in blood.

And today I sit here, with a half filled glass in my hand,
And the seven empty shells that line my table,
"How was i different from them?", I thought, I pondered,
"Who will judge me?", I thought as I raised the gun to my head.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

The First Kiss

Under the silence of the night,
Like the moonvine, the love blossomed,
The silver sheen, and the sweet fragrance,
Of an heavenly peace bloomed,
As her fingers slid into mine.

Her eyes told it all,
As I held her in my arms,
The winds played with her mane,
As her heart stopped for a while,
With the sweet embrace.

Her eyes drowned in mine,
As I held on to her,
And then under starry sky,
Her lips gently pressed onto mine,
And I wish the night stayed on forever.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

The Traveler-5: The Time Trap.

Acknowledgement: I would like to thank my dearest Friend Nikhil Negi for the Time travel, and My dear sis D, for the Witch :D

The village held a gloomy charm,
Not a one that would sooth the heart,
And I wanted to know, to understand,
What made the clouds look so sad.

My answer came,
From a man in the village bar,
He told me the sorrow filled tale,
As he drank from his jar.

He said, with every sip,

She rides on her wind charriot, with a fire whip in her hand,
She rides to steal the smiles, steal the joy from our hearts.

She has cursed this land, so the sun never shines,
The clouds would linger along, but not a drop wets the ground.

She has cursed this land, so no child is ever born,
The mothers lost their hopes to live.

"Why does she torment all", I asked,
"I don't know, why don't you ask", he said.
So I set out to find her,
For, the sight had filled me with sorrow.

So I set out to find my answers,
To the old witch who lived by the river,
And around me I saw pain,
The village was dead on itself.

She sat on a velvet thron,

"Why do you torment the villagers?", My question startled her,
"Its my village, I do as it pleases me", she replied with scorn.

"I will do anything to help this village out", I swore an oath,
"Can you?" She replied as flew down to me with a cackle.

"Why would you, you are just a traveler, why soil your hands?"
"I love adventure, and helping these people promises me adventure."

She waved her wand, poof!!!!
Darkness covered me for an instance,
And then light, as we emerged again.
Emerged into a dungeon.

"I would like to test your spirit", she said
As she led me through the narrow lane,
Tombs of men lined the wall,
And floor was wet with slime.

She opened a giant door,

"Can you kill a stranger, without looking at his face?",
"Can you stab a man, without knowing his name"

I saw whom she was talking about, for he sat there,
His face covered and his hands chained, he sat there by the wall.

"One man's life for an entire village", I weighed in my head,
Then taking the dagger from her, I drove it down his heart.

"You clear my test, Traveler,
But you must travel to the past,
Down the alley of fear,
To the Forest of Gloom".

"I will send you twenty years back,
Search for me the three stones of life,
And once you find them, come back
To this village, to this house"

She raised her wand, mumbling a spell,

"But I lay a curse upon you, as you travel down the time,
If you shall ever raise a hand against me, you shall fall by the same"

A ball of fire engulfed my body, but it didn't burn my skin,
And slowly the witch faded from my sight, only the fire remained.

A pull of gravity, a pull of soul, I couldn't tell,
But I felt the time fly by me, and soon the fire died around.

The world was different,
The sky and sun felt different,
And I traveled in search of the stone of life,
I traveled to the darkest time.

In ten years I found two,
But then one day I learned the truth,
The witch had the third of the stone,
And she had just pushed me out.

I was lost, and shattered, captured in the past.

"Where can I find the village of gloom?", I would ask everyone,
"Where can I find the witch who masters time?", I lost it to time

Ten more years I wander around, with the two stones of life,
And one day I track her down, I found my way back to her.

"You deceived me oh evil witch", And I raised my sword to kill,
"You are just a mere mortal", she laughed, and captured me in a spell.

She took from me the two stones of life,
And locked me away in a place unknown,
And for three days I was kept there,
With no food for hunger, and no water for thirst.

And on the third day, I heard movements,
And the door opened behind me, footsteps I heard,
Faces I couldn't see, but knew they were two.
And then after a long pause, I heard her speak.

"Can you kill a stranger, without looking at his face?"

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Traveler-4: The Riders of the Dark Sand

I have traveled long and far, in search of things that the world has seldom heard of. The journeys I have taken in search of Fear, The Forest Nymphs, and the Devil himself have already been written about. My journeys have taken me to the ends of the world, from where there seemed no return. One such journey took me to the land, covered under a sea of sand. It was everywhere, it spanned from horizon to horizon, and it was here I heard about the Riders Of the Dark Sand.

I was part of the caravan, and we were to cross this great desert to reach the other side, to the green lush fertile land along the River Nile. The caravan was actually a transport for a precious jewel, guarded by an old priest. There were stories about him, and how he had always guarded the jewel from the desert robbers.

I walked over to him, eager to know what was so precious about the jewel, but before I could ask him, he started the tale.

Long ago, during the reign of Thoth,
The heaven was torn apart in war,
Horus in arms against Set, the God of sands.

Thoth conceived a jewel, of pure power,
Power to alter time, and resolve fights,
And handed the jewel to a man, priest in his temple.

But the greed in man's heart was strong,
And he yearned to be powerful,
He fought for this jewel, to control the time.

One such man was Hareb, a mighty warrior,
Who up with his four men, laid siege on the temple,
Killing the priests, and stealing the Jewel.

His insolence angered Thoth,
And this anger gave birth to a curse,
A curse to be captured within time.

And together with him, his men perished,
Only to be risen on the day of no moon,
When they fight to regain the Jewel.

Well it was an astounding story, and the old priest could see the glow on my face as I heard about the power of the Jewel.

"Stranger, be warned, no one has ever returned back from the desert nor has the jewel reached the temple by the Nile. Those who die in battle with the Riders, . . . ", his speech was cut off by the bull horn. The journey was about to commence.

I was a bit afraid, but still was determined to see the marvel that lay up ahead in the day.
We were fifty brave men, strong warriors to protect the Jewel, and I was confident that I would be able to set foot on the fertile land across this great desert.

So the journey began. . .

Fifty brave men, mounted on horses,
With swords drawn ready to fight,
Across the desert, they ride,
They ride along with the sun.

The hot days, take their tolls,
But the brave never give up,
For across the desert, lies their dream,
A dream of fertility and pride.

The priest travels along, guarding the jewel,
With fear in his heart he rides,
And as the sun dips towards the horizon,
His eyes betray his fear.

"I have traveled this sand, thousand times,
But never do I see the green land."

Sang the priest, as the skies darkened,
And darkness covered the land.

"They will come, and take all of you,
They will come, to enslave your souls,
But for me, I have the jewel, so I shall live,
The jewel shall set my times right."

And soon the sands turned dark,
And no moon shined in the sky,
Then we heard the sounds of hoofs,
As the Riders of the Dark Sands arrived.

Four men, and their horses breathing fire,
With swords drawn, ready to take the lives.
"If its four, we can take them", I thought,
But my hopes soon turned to despair.

With his hands the rider waved to air,
"I am Hareb, listen to me oh great sands,
I have been yours for many years,
Now give me what is mine"

Soon the earth shook and split
And our sights were blinded by the winds,
And then rose the many who had died,
Died protecting the Jewel of Thoth.

The undead, rose to their feet,
As my men charged ahead into them,
And I watched each of my men fall,
Fall to the swords of the undead.

It was me now, who stood afoot,
Between Hareb and his jewel, his desire,
And with a drawn sword I charged into the men,
Slicing the already dead to death.

"Its futile, that you may fight,
For your men are dead, and you stand alone,
Its futile, that you may fight,
For I still can summon the demons from hell"

And with a scream, Hareb leaped forward,
Knocking me off onto to the sands,
And as his cold sword pierced my chest,
I saw the priest stab the jewel with his staff.

I saw the life flash in front of me,
And the light shone bright, blinding me,
And then darkness followed for days to come,
Until I heard the call, and life ran through my veins.

I rose up again, with the sword in my hand,
And my men stood next to me, ready to fight,
But the fate had a different plan,
For now I was also the Rider of the Dark Sand.

Thoth: Wiki Page. Thoth is also the moon deity.
Set: Wiki Page.
Horus: Wiki Page.

Monday, May 16, 2011

The Autumn Sunset

"...The leaves fall, and the flowers wither, but the memory remains."

The tenderness of the leaves lost,
Lost to the tears of the sky,
Clouds that never saw light,
Shade our lives for ever.

The smile of the damsel fades,
Fades into an autumn sky,
The loving hug of mate,
Fades into a sad departure.

Winds that play with the flower,
Withered by the summer sun,
Skies still rain fire,
Burning down the forest of hope.

The sunset was my life,
The life I held onto for long,
But today the sun sets for ever,
Never to be seen again.

I wait for this autumn to fade,
A new winter and spring awaits.
I wait for a new dawn,
To light up, after this autumn sunset.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Enemy Of an Enemy

The little rat ran, ran for its life,
As the snake pursued its prey,
Around the field the rat ran,
And soon the snake fell behind.

An owl sitting on a nearby tree,
Was enjoying the show at hand,
When it saw the rat about to run,
Run into a borough and spoil its show.

"The borough won't be of much help",
Hearing the hoot, the rat looked up.
"The snake can always follow you,
Right into the hole, you see"

"So let me help", the Owl continued,
"Why should I trust you", the Rat squeaked,
"Well I am your enemy's enemy", retorted the Owl,
"Let me think, I will let you know soon"

The rat knew that owl was right,
"The snake would follow me into the hole,
And may be corner me and eat me,
But how can I trust the owl either?"

"The owl may eat me too, if I stay,
But I think he is for real,
For an enemy's enemy is a friend",
The rat was in a deep thought.

"Help me Mr Owl, for I find you wise,
Help me Mr Owl, for you are correct",
"Promise me you won't leave here, until,
until I come back with the dead snake"

"We can celebrate together", said the owl,
And the rat stood his promise, as the owl darted away,
And a snoop down, the snake writhed in its claws,
It writhed and died soon.

The rat was happy, prepared for a celebration,
When with a hoot, the owl scoped down again,
But this time, the rat was there in its claw.
"Why do you break the promise", asked the rat.

"I never made one", said the owl,
And it flapped along the horizon,
With the new catch, in its claws.
And as it flew it chuckled to itself.

I am for sure the enemy's enemy,
But I never claimed to be the friend.
And it flew, perching on a high branch,
and feasting on its grand catch.

Monday, May 9, 2011

The Story of the Night.

Long ago, there was no night, but just light,
And this light gave birth to an unending love,
A true love, that bound the Earth and the Sun.

They were together, nothing to separate them,
And their love was known across the universe,
Man was happy, for there was no darkness to fear.

There was a seer, who was enchanted by the beauty,
Enchanted by the beauty of the Earth, and he wanted her
But it was the Sun who stood in between him and his love.

His love turned to jealousy, and all he wanted was her,
He plotted days on end, plotted how to get rid of the Sun,
And one day he came up with a plan, plan to take his love.

The seer went to meet the Gods, "Does the human pray to you?",
"Does he come to you, praying for the well being?"
"Does he humour you with his thanksgiving?".

"He has long forgotten fear, so he forsakes thee",
"He has forgotten anguish, so he doesn't heed thee".
"Give him darkness, and he will come to you, you will see".

The Gods were impressed by what the seer said,
"So let it be, let there be night, let there be no light",
"Let the man fear me once again, and countinue to pray"

So came the night, and the sun was gone,
And the seer seizing the opportunity, pursued his love,
The Earth was frightened by the darkness, and afraid of the seer.

She ran to the Gods for help, and she begged them,
Now the Gods understood what was that what the seer wanted,
"You have deceived us oh great Seer, so you shall be punished"

The seer was cast into a bottom-less pit,
"And for you, oh Earth, we can't undo the night",
"But we can give you light in the night"

And saying thus, they placed the Moon in the sky,
And it shone bright, with the light from the sun,
While the Earth waited patiently for the dawn.

And to this day, the Moon shines,
Shines with the promise of love,
A true and eternal love, that would return one day.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

The Aftershock - 2

continued from

"Dunno dude, I can hardly hear a thin'."


This time there was no mistaking, it was a gunshot. Soon the world came back into our senses, we were in some clearing or park. For all I could see was the green of the grass almost blackened under the darkness of the night and a thin cover of trees towards the boundaries.
Our hearts started to beat faster, well obviously we were supposed to be frightened, but I could't comprehend the gravity of the situation. My head slowly hummed, while my heart beat like a hammer against my chest.

"We should get outa' here". Ted pulled me up, I wobbled a bit.
We somehow managed to get each other up, but we were too late, for soon we saw two men with flash lights walking towards us. They were shining it in our eyes, so we could't get a glimpse of their faces.

"Whatcha' kids doin' up here in the night", Asked one of them. He was really tall, with a well built muscular body, and he had a really rough voice. He could have been easily mistaken for a giant.

"N'thin', we were just passin'by, thought we'd rest a bit before headin' home." I blurted out, somehow.

And it was then I saw the shot guns in their hands, and it was my feet that did the talking. I ran straight into the tree cover, I cared for no one at that moment, no one at all, not even the other three.

"Hey Kid waitup", I could hear the man shouting back at me.

I didn't stop, for all I cared was to save my sorry little ass. I ran into the trees.


I heard the gunshot behind me as I ducked in behind a tree, and flares brushed past me. One of them caught me in my left arm, It was like a pin prick, and then a quick spasm of pain, and I felt like my hand had been ripped off my body. I was scared, I could hear the other man shouting at the shooter for being clumsy, for missing his mark.

"I have to escape from these men, somehow I have to run away from them"

"What am I going to do with my arm?"

"What will happen if they catch me?"

Damn I was so confused and scared, I somehow scrambled back to my feet holding my left arm, trying to stop the bleeding. It was just a flesh wound, I breathed, a deep breath, before breaking into a run, I ran straight into the ever thickening foliage. It was dark, pitch black, I could just make out the outlines of the trees as I ran amidst them. I could see the long shadows cast by the flash light behind me.

"They are up on my heals, damn", I thought to my self.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I din't notice the ground sloping downwards. I stumbled upon a root and fell flat on the face. My nose hurt like hell, must have broken from the impact. A warm stream of blood rushed out of my nose, I got back up on my feet, rubbing off the blood as it streamed. I was really hurt this time, a bloodied arm and a broken nose. I waited, breathing heavily waiting for the pain to wade off. The faint light of the flash-light was growing thinner and thinner and soon it was dark again.

"They might have given up"

I slumped on to the nearest tree, hiding perfectly behind it, I was scared, dead scared, breathing heavily, and was just lost. It was dark, I din't know what to do. I didn't know what had happened to the other three, they would have been killed, and dumped in some swamp or taken hostages, hog tied and tortured. I sat there by the tree, and started crying. I felt helpless.

I don't know how long I had been under that tree. I was no longer high, everything was normal except for my beating heart. It was racing, it was beating as if it wanted to get out of my chest. I gathered enough courage and got up, I could hear vehicles, engines roaring. I walked towards the sound and soon emerged into a road. It had a long line of tree cover on both side of it, as it snaked through the green cover. I limped up to the road, hopping to get some help. From a distant curve I saw the two beams of light and soon two headlights came into sight. I limped forward and trying to flag it down, and as the car drew nearer, I felt a wave of relief passing through my body. I saw the beacon light, like the ones used in a police car. I was lucky. The car stopped in front me, and a middle aged cop stepped out of the drivers seat. I sighed.

"What happened son, You look terrible", His soft voice soothed my nerves.

I started to blurt out everything, what ever had happened that evening, about the shooting and how I had escaped, everything.

"Why don't you get in the car with me, I will hear your story, as I get you to a hospital". And as he said, he opened the rear door of the car. I was happy, and was not scared any more. I had got help at last. The door closed with a click.

He got back into the drivers seat, picked up his phone from the dashboard and dialled, and put the earpiece to his ears. I could hear the slow ringing sound, and then it stopped.

"I have got him, he is with me in the car."

To be Continued....

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Memoir Of a Rose

"...A rose has a magic in itself, love it, live it."

I remember the day I saw her,
A babe in her mother's arm, sleeping,
As I sat adorning her table.

She grew into a maiden, a beauty,
And my fragrance covered her body,
And as a loving touch I danced with her.

I was gifted to her with a kiss,
And her lips impressed upon me,
As she embraced the man, her lover.

Its her marriage, and she walks down the aisle,
Timid and shy, her cheeks blush up, as of a princes,
And she holds onto me, as I sit embedded in her bouquet.

She grows old with her man,
With promises to live and die together,
I sit by her bed, with the card, in her sickness.

She is long gone, bidding farewell to the earth,
He wipes the tear, that has wet his cheeks,
And places me by her side, as he walks away.

I lay there by her side, for a new beginning,
I lay there unmoved, as she is lowered down.
To be one with the earth, where she would rest for ever.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Aftershock - 1

It was my best day, finally I had graduated, and nothing could stop me from being what I wanted. Well I could say that, the world had a different plan.It was a pleasant day. A copper sky, which marked the sunset, a light breeze which made the trees sway along with it, a slight chill in the air, which said, "Hey people winters' at your doorstep".

"I suggest we go to the Blue diamond, free starters, disco and a lot of hot chicks", chirped in Bierty. Well I loved him for his head. A cheap bastard he was, but still I loved how his brain worked.

I think I missed out on a lot of details to begin with. Well we were the gang of four, Bierty, Mat, Greg, and of course me . We stood up for each other. We were the main brain behind our batch functioning properly, well I am allowed to boast, but truth is truth, we were the best at what we did. We had started with random hacks, then a main grid, and bang, we were popular all over the campus. "The four Owls", as we were so lovingly addressed. Nights were our days and the days were well of course our nights.

And yeah coming back to the incident, we all agreed to what Bierty had to offer, we were cheap bastards too. The night of our graduation, in some random disc by the name Blue Diamond, and we four hopping for some fun.

"300 bucks each", the bouncer at the gate, pointed at the board. We fished out enough, and much was left with us for a pretty decent night.

The world that emerged at us behind those black doors was something we would never forget.

"Dude, the blue light is already tripin' me m'man", I heard my self hiss in a low voice. The interior of the disc was electrifying, splendid and really ( well I would require a good word to describe it folks )

I saw Greg and Bierty go straight into the dance floor, may be they wanted to hook up, I don't know, but I took a corner seat with Mat, and within half an hour we were already down with seven vodka shots. I could feel the world dance along with me, as I head banged away to the marvellous music that was playing by. Mat sat there unmoved, for him seven were still less, and within another fifteen minutes, he joined me, 10 shots down.

Well we danced the night away, until Bierty came up to us with something.

"You should try this mate, this is some serious stuff.", Well we couldn't hold our horses, and jumped all over it as hungry pack of dogs. It was something out of this world, something marvelous. We were soon in our own world, splendid, everything slowed down, the music, the dancing, everything, except for time.

"This is the last one for the night, thanks for coming along", screamed in the DJ, and soon we were out.

"I can't feel m' leg mate".
"Keep walkin', ye'll start feeling it a' soon as ye get tired."

And so we walked, reached somewhere, and slumped to the ground. Peace. Silence. Quite.


"Was that a gunshot!!!!??" Greg sounded a bit scared.

To be continued...


"...To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly..."

-Henri Bergson

I need to change. I need to change, and I will repeat it for one last time, "I need to Change".

Its really fun being me, change every six months and become a new person all together, and apparently the six months duration from my last change has come to an end. I actually overstayed the period. (Geeeesh, I am bored).

Ever wondered what change is actually.

Ever wondered why the things you did once upon a time seems to be lame, but were brilliant back then.

It all started one pleasant spring morning, It was my first day at school, obviously a new one. It was my first day as a Columban. Then two years just passed by, like couple of hours, It was there I learned to change.

It was here I learned about 42, answer to life, earth, universe and everything in it. 42 still remains in my memory.

Change started there, I changed from a dumb fellow into a more reserved person, I started giving priorities to people, I started thinking about life.

Then again came a really crucial phase, *boom* The Engineering phase.

It was a cloudy autumn day when I first stepped into the campus, a neatly folded piece of paper held my identification and my pass to everlasting change.

The time period of my change increased drastically, from two years to one year, 3-quarters and then half yearlies. I adapted well to the half yearlies, new semester, new things to look forward to and a bit of holidays in between so that people won't actually notice that you changed.

The latest one lasted a bit more, because of this one person, who actually did have a great deal of influence in my life.

Then again I am here, saying I need a change, its long since I experimented with my self.
I need to get rid of many things, like, the three imaginary friends I have ( Yes I need to grow up ). I need to be more mature, I need to "SPEAK UP" of all things.

Last Saturday, I was wondering why I skip my meal so often when I actually have a good source to order and eat properly according to my taste, well It dawned to me that, I am scared of ordering, BLAH, ( I just don't know why I am so scared, Maybe as D once said, "...I am not ready to face the consequences of my action, so I would rather like to run away from them, or avoid them altogether" ) Well ordering food from outside may seem lame, but for me, its important, It showed me that I was just plain afraid of the consequences of my action.

And again BLAH.

So, once again I say it, I need to change, and its high time, I am bored being me, I need to figure out a new outlook, may be a little talkative this time, or may be a little more serious and scary, or a little more jovial person, but for sure I need to change.

And to conclude this long monologue, I would like to quote Charles Darwin,
"...It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change."

And once again BLAH.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

My little Finger

One night sleeping on my arm,
I woke up, In the middle of it.
One day writing my paper,
I stood up, in the middle of it.

Was it a nightmare, or the fear to fail,
I don't know, I don't care,
For all I know is

My Pinky is numb,
I can see it, but, I can't feel it
My Pinky is dead,
I can feel the pins and pricks.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

The Lady In The Portrait

The sweet smile, and a morbid love,
I never knew, what changed my mind,
But when I drew her on my canvas,
It was night for me, and sunshine for her.

I tried, to make the colors look alive,
But she was adamant, made me look grim,
I reasoned with her, and then a long walk,
But nothing would change, for she was mine.

I drew her, a damsel in distress,
I drew her, for I loved her face more,
The colors were alive, and vibrant with fear,
Then a scream, when my true colors came alive.

Was it the noose, or the blade,
I couldn't tell but she screamed,
She called me crazy, a compliment,
When I let her dangle on her life.

She was captured, never to be free,
She was enslaved, within my dreams,
Then with a chilling shrill, she broke free,
Death became her solace.

I tried reason, but she would't listen,
I tried love, but she would't understand,
For all she saw was a withering cloud,
Under the shadow of a new dream.

Then finally to capture her,
To enslave her within my portrait,
I tightened my noose and swung my knife,
Until not a red drop would remain.

Judge me

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The Infinite Love

"...What a fool was he, to believe in love, for I haven't found one, not in the hundred years I lived..."

Was it pity, or lust for blood,
That moved her heart, to help.
As she dragged him in, half dead,
Dragged him into her abode,
And let him live.

She was a vampire, an un-dead being,
Sucking out blood, to satisfy her needs,
But for him, she couldn't touch,
For on his neck hung,
The cross pendant.

She was moved, I could say,
For she helped him stand on his foot,
She had changed, I could see,
For she nursed him back to health,
Was it Love?

For months they stayed together,
In the little dwelling of hers,
And for months she nurtured the love,
As it grew strong with him.
Had she changed?

Then one day, she confessed her love,
"I feel the same", said he,
And for an embrace, he leapt in,
But she screamed, and held back,
The cross pendant on his being.

"If you love me, remove that,
Remove the wretched pendant from your being,
For it makes me weak in heart
And kills the love in me"

She said, with a shaky voice.

He tore the pendant apart with a shove,
And to dust he threw it,
And they broke into a sweet embrace,
Which only love could know.
Then she kissed his neck.

With a sudden jerk, she bit into him,
Sinking her fangs deep into his throat.
"For months you have evaded me",
She laughed, a bone chilling one,
As she drained the life out.

When she was done, she wiped her lips,
And threw the limp body to the floor,
"What a fool was he, to believe in love,
For I haven't found one,
Not in the hundred years I lived"

Dedicated to my lil' sis Josmin

Monday, April 25, 2011

A Random Poem :D( aka The Eclipse )

"...Exist for a cause, wither out without a warning. For the reasons you shine, are less known to Men."

One day, in the corridor,
When my guitar failed to play,
I sat wondering, "Why me god?"
"Why does failure sadden me?"

I heard no sound, no answer,
Yet I yearned for one, as I strained,
Strained to Listen to that little patter,
And the crackling of a dry blade

No answer came that day,
With a sullen heart, I slept, I wept
Still I hoped for an answer, but none came,
Next day, I played again.

God's busy, I said to my self,
And wrote a song, for a busy God,
And I played, and I sung, and I danced along
Till my finger bled, and my throat ached.

Tired, I sat dreaming, and slowly faded away,
Into the night that never ends, I dreamt my way
And that is when I heard his voice,
Like a thunder, echoing through the rain.

"Have you seen an eclipse", the voice asked,
"Yes", I nodded in my dream
"Does the sun, so mighty, chose not to shine,
When the moon shadows its grace?"

I planed on writing more, but I am too lazy, and bored. Please do comment ( Good & Bad both, please ), makes me feel good :)

Saturday, April 23, 2011

The Truth

"...The war has made me, made me what I am. It showed me that life is what I crave for..."

I stayed, just behind the lines,
Lines of brave men, ready to die.
I stood, armed to the nails, prepared,
Prepared to bring down the enemy.

We charged, as bulls fed on anger,
To devour what came our way.
We charged, with swords drawn high,
To cut every head that stayed.

With each swing came down a cry,
A cry of pain, a cry of fear.
We marched into the midst, fearless,
Ready to fall mountains, on our way.

Little did we know, about the trap,
Trap that lured us into their midst.
And I watched on, as my men fell,
Fell one after the other.

I hid among their corpses, afraid,
I hid to save my life, and I held on.
And when the enemy was done, they left,
Left me with a mountain of corpses, my own men.

Was I a coward, or a wise man, I don't know,
For I just wanted to live, and I did.
And the war made me, made me what I am,
It showed me that life is what I crave for.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

The Carriage Wheel

"Her screams drowned by the ramble beneath, drowned by the sound of the Carriage wheels...."

I caught the glimpse of her eyes,
As the train halted to a stop,
Her hair, silken black, shining,
Divine beauty, etched by gold.

A tear escaped her eye, with goodbyes,
She alighted, a righteous air by her,
Infront of me she seated, wiping a tear,
As the carriage chugged slowly, moving.

I read her face, flawless and vibrant,
As she sat reading a book, a paperback.
Then our eyes met, a smile, a conversation,
The melody of her voice, ringed in my ear.

She could talk, and she did, as we chatted,
Birds and trees to start, then came life,
Daughter of a widowed mother, she spoke,
Spoke with a vigour beyond her age.

She was young, but wise for her age,
We talked on, as shadows grew long,
The night came, and shadows disappeared,
And soon the sleep was upon her.

I watched her sleep, gently in her dreams,
As I sang her a lullaby, of a long lost prince.
And she slept like a child, as my eyes sparkled,
Sparkled with satisfaction of an evil deed.

A gentle smile curved on my face,
As with the knife I carved her grace,
Her screams drowned by the ramble beneath,
Drowned by the sound of the Carriage wheels.

Soon morning came, as I alighted at the station,
A bloodied knife hidden in my pocket,
Her silver necklace dangled in my arms,
As I bid farewell to a girl wise for her age.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

The Sour Grapes

"I just wish I had tasted the grapes, atleast I wouldn't have been cribbing about them being sour..."

Smiling one sunny day, the fox,merrily rambled away,
Through the undergrowth, and a wet path covered in moss.

A vineyard he did cross, whence he laid his eyes on the grapes,
Dark-purple and delicious, they did hang on the drapes,

He sat underneath the grapes, "A grape or two won't hurt", he thought,
A jump followed the thought, then another, and another, till he tired out.

No mater how much he jumped, no grape he could grasp,
So atlast disheartened he started to march back, with a heavy heart.

There sat a crow, watching the show, smiling to himself,
Then a question escaped his naughty little beaks, as he squeaked.

"Why do you leave Mr Fox, already tired and giving up are you?",
"The grapes are sour, and I don't fancy 'em any more", sighed the fox

"But they are sweet up here", mocked the crow, in a sympathetic voice,
The fox din't reply, he swallowed hard as he walked away, thinking.

"If only I had tasted a single grape, I wouldn't have lied, I wouldn't have cried,
but now I crib about the grapes being sour, even without trying one."

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Fear Of a Crimson Dream

Wrapped around in a hazy dream, I slip down a pipe hole,
Frozen in fear, as the solitude becomes my nightmare,

Green witch clad in a purple robe, wave your wand, let me free,
As the anger I smoke in, to breath out a crimson cloud of dream.

I walk, leading my path, a burning fire, wobbling in front of me,
I slide to see what is there for me to see, blank spaces with seesaws.

I see her run infront of me, my little guardian angel, who never sleeps,
But today she is drunk, she is drunk with my ingratitude, and solace.

Life played a trick on me, magic is never true, I shout in the streets,
Life played a trick on me, left me to fend for my self, I paint on the walls.

The crimson nights would come, when the dreams would cease,
Then the shades of yesterday would comfort your sleep, as you try to dream.

A unicorn that flies, with the wings of a mighty eagle, pure as white,
Dreams are for those who can sleep, but for me, its the black of the blankness.

The Un-great-fool

"...He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has..."
- Epictetus

I am not wise, for I lament for the things I have not, and care even less for the things I have.


I have a wonderfully gifted Life, a life which I got through a miracle, a real miracle, but still I play around with it, tossing it around, carelessly, the chances that I might drop and break it, are real high, but still I play around with it.

It took a while for me to understand the importance and value of a family. It would be a lie, if I said that I cared for my family, but I have changed, I have become someone who I was not, changed for good, changed for bad. And together with me my family changed. It took me two years in a practical jail to understand what family meant. Now I long to see them, long to be close to them, but the truth is, time has run out, the only thing we as human beings can't control.

The only thing I have in abundance, friends, I can get along with people, easily, without trouble. I have seen people who are really a pain to adjust with, they don't have friends, they just have people around them who sympathize with them, because they don't have friends and because they feel sorry for them. And then there's me, who has his own private world full of friends, and doesn't even care about them. Well I have had complains from many, "...You don't hang around with me these days, you have got better friends than me", ah well they haven't seen me hang around with the "better" friends, I hang around alone, I crib about the lack of friends, I lament about being alone.

I have enough Intelligence to last me through my old age dumbness, enough to stand for my own beliefs, to protect my own principles, but I lament, I look at others who are better off than me, and despair for their intelligence, neglecting mine. I let my brain rust, its blunt these days, it requires a good brush up, but I know I will raise again.

"...I have been ungrateful to every one around me, to my friends, who have actually been there during my hard times. My family, because of whom I am what I am. My self, without whom I wouldn't have had this identity of mine."

And towards the end, the golden touch, golden words to give me solace throughout my life, a phrase which would be etched in my memory, which I can use as a defense, to protect my own ungrateful soul from torment.
"The Past is gone, a new beginning awaits you"

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The Snake

Her beautiful face covered in mud,
As she writhed in pain, screaming,
A pain, she couldn't feel, but it ate her,
Ate her inside, the pain of fear.

She coiled on my hand, hissing,
Tightened her grip, never to lose me,
I felt her heart beat faster, as she slipped,
Slipped away into a hole, A safegaurd.

I watched her slip through the hole,
The poison as it ran through my veins,
I felt my heart beat faster, and then numbness,
The two punctures, as it showed through my skin.

I never asked her, why she hated me,
I never asked her, why she disliked me,
I knew fear was all she had, when her teeth sunk.
For she was afraid of me, and me afraid of her.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Stars Among the Strays

With her little hands, she paints a happy face

The sun was hot, burning bright,
Sweaty, sticky, turned the red light,
I waited, cursing the man in front,
I waited, under the sun that burnt.

Half a minute past, I stayed at the juncture,
When a little hand, crawled up to a tap,
I looked and two little eyes looked back,
The strays of the land they did their tricks.

A small hoop-a-loop, and she starts her trick,
A small drum, the boy beats the brick.
They jump and loop through, at work or play,
Then the small hands come up for the alms.

I did feel a little pinch, she is a kid, said my heart,
I put my hands in my little purse, to pay,
But alas the driver won't stop, nor would he care,
As half a minute later green comes up on the fair.


Typing this thing out, is the easiest way, through which I can get rid of the craving that is slowly and slowly pushing my brain, to think that it exists outside my body. Yesterday was a colorful day, with the trees being green, birds being yellow ( well I don't know how birds look like) and flowers being multi colored, and out of the blue I needed a porcupine, which actually led into a real bad mess (no wonder these animals are protected under law). Things turned out to be so ugly, that I thought it was time for my real half to disappear, and he did so and now I am stuck up here with half a brain typing this out.

So coming to the point, yesterday I was totally kicked around with a volley of fancy words, which were supposed to define the being I am, well my usual answer was "I don't care", but somehow deep within me, I did say "Please can you stop it, you are hurting me". Then there was this little pointing out where the person concerned said, "You are one f***ed up mind. Even an average boy is happier and merrier than you.", well I wanted to ask, "Define happiness dude!!"

That got me thinking, and thinking, and thinking. What exactly is happiness? I tried Mr Google for it, and he gave me a good and satisfiable answer

"Happiness is a state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy."

I should be happy according to the definition, I am happy with my life, except for may be an occasional mood swing, which can't be helped. I feel love, I feel pleasure, and I feel joy. So according to the dictionary I am happy, but still why would he say that I am not happy.
The only possible reason I could figure out was because I only shared the sad feelings I had in my life with him, the happy feelings were reserved to my own being.

So as Mr Shakespeare once said, "All is well that ends well", I hope this phase just ends up properly.

Look at the stars, as they shine bright,
Each one its own master, its own slave,

Look at the lone flower that blossoms by,
Under the sun, its happy, it withers, dies

The river flows, alone through the land,
To join a bigger family, underneath the sand.

So why does the world say happiness is lost,
For its just a hands reach away from life.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The Violet Sky

I am afraid of the calm after the storm

One fine evening, under an orange sky,
I sat with her, her hands in mine,
Looking at the sky, and the setting sun,
I sat there, looking in her eye.

It was calm, and the peace stayed on,
No words were spoken, but eyes said it all,
A fear lurked within me, as the grey crept in,
For it was the calm before the storm.

The orange of the sky was lost,
And the grey of the storm took hold,
Slowly breaking the strong bonds of love.
And soon the storm was upon us.

The eyes said it all, and tears held the words,
Silence spoke loud, in the sad shades of grey
The storm ragged, as from me she was torn apart.
Never to return, she said, for the storm to depart.

The storm subsided, but from me she was gone,
A violet haze poisoned the sky, as the calm returned,
A painful calm where no words would ever be spoken,
Or is it a calm before another storm sings aloud.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Reasons - 2

Its been long since I actually wrote something sensible in this blog, ( well apart from the regular poetic explosions of fear and anxiety ). Today was a day I actually ( when I say actually I mean it this time :P ) tried to understand the reasons behind my screwed-up existence. I have had dreams where I was as normal as others were, where I could talk normal things. Think normally. Fall in love, have some one, who holds my hand and walks with me when I am down. Well these were just perfect examples of a perfect life.
Something happened, something which made me believe that there was no turning back, there was no returning from what I am, but as usual- "Who gives a F***". I hate it like this, I hate the reason of my existence, and everything linked to me. Thanks to a handful of people, I still breath ( not fresh air though :D ), I just wish I had a time machine, but well people would have missed "me" then.

I knew a man with no face,
No face to remember by.
I knew a memory with no name,
No name to recall it by.

The night was in its youth,
When two hands touched,
The night was in its death bed,
When the dreams were shattered.

So I stand tall, to protect my dreams,
And to do what is best for me,
So I stand up against all fears,
But still the night crushes me down.

I knew a man with no face,
Because I choose to forget,
I knew a memory with no name,
Because I hated to recall it.

Monday, April 4, 2011


You will burn in your innocence when the world steals your smile

She waits under a sunburned sky, a woman in her primes,
Waiting for the day to dawn, to wake her up from her denial.

He would come, she says, but little does she know,
That despair is his only pride, and death his bride.

A long lost war, a shielded window of shattered faith,
Now she waits for her man to come, to save her from her fate.

Gods would show me favour, and let me be one with him,
But oh great sea, why did you steal his soul from me.

Is it madness that counts, or the love that kills,
For she stood there thousands of days, waiting for him still.

He won't come, the village echoed, crushing the last piece of hope,
He won't come, for he is one with death, sang the multitude aloud.

By the sea she stood, but why did you take him from me,
For an aching heart you have given me, and an eye devoid of tears.

Ages passed and soon the village forgot, forgot about the woman,
Until one sunny day, she came home, huddled in a casket of her own.

Friday, April 1, 2011

The Walking Stick

A sunny sky to mark my day,
I strolled along, alone, and bored,
The park was lively, with birds chirping,
Dogs barking, and fish swimming.

A tree swayed, and a sparrow flew away,
Up soared the eagle, to catch its prey,
So on such a sunny day, I strolled,
Alone and bored, nothing to do.

At a distance I saw a boy, a kid of my age,
Play with his dog, as his grand old man,
Aged with wisdom, wrinkled with love,
Sat by the tree, and watched him play.

Next to him lay, his walking stick,
Wood of the same tree, or so I presumed,
To support him, till he made peace,
Till he lays down his worries and leaves.

The kid played along, urging his old man,
To play with him, to throw a ball or two,
The old man did budge, stood up to play,
But his weak legs wouldn't let him stay.

So he picked up his walking stick,
To play with his little kid,
Something struck me at this point,
And for long did I lose myself to thoughts.

The walking stick had become a part of him,
A part he cherished and lived.
A part which would never leave his side,
I wish I had a walking stick too like him.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

The Bells

The carved figure of a man that stands,
Tall enough to shadow his own fate,
Holding the balance, which weighs his pain.
He stands tall, brave as he does,
But his hands shake, and uncertainty looms.

He has seen pain, or so he believes,
For no one cares, he writes with his blood.
I am alone, and I am weak to take this burden,
This burden that life has bestowed on me.
But does he know that he ain't the one burdened.

He looks up to the sky, the dark blanket of gloom,
He looks to earth, the parched source of hope
A painted smile that adorns his face,
A drop of tear that trickles through the paint
He is weak, and is broken by the burden he bears.

He looks at the trees as they swing,
His hope to swing along is crushed by fear.
He watches his hands tighten around the bells,
The little bells that would ring aloud one day,
Ring to the tunes for the devil to dance to his death

Tuesday, March 29, 2011


I heard him stand on the mountain and shout,
"I am a box, and you think in me", he said
I shout back at him, he is beaten and broken
But still he stands, to shout at a mirror.

He is crying, but a smile plays on his lips,
His arm tingles, where the blade would touch,
Was it the love he was looking for that betrayed,
Or was it his own soul that took the shot.

He is closed within from all sides,
Jumbled with his emotions as they stab in,
He stands once again on the mountain to shout,
To shout at his own reflection in the sun.


A cold sweat, on my brow I wipe,
As my heart pumps fear in my veins,
A shrilled laughter replaces my silence,
And a shivering arm, a stable one.

I miss those days when I felt fear,
When excitement used to fill me up,
I miss those days of restless sleep,
Days when my heart refused to pump.

I have lost a part of me, a part afraid,
There are no scary dreams, they are just empty.
I miss a part of me, a part that was afraid.
For the silence has replaced a silent prayer.

Have I lost the hope to live, or am I brave,
Or I grew powerful enough to overcome my fear.
Have I nothing to lose, or I lost to grief
For now I miss him, I miss a friend known as fear.

The Frozen Dream

The dream had to be compelling, something which could scare the living daylight out of me. I tossed along in the bed, just praying to the sleep God, to give me just an ounce of the sweet nectar of sleep. The clock ticked away slowly chiming into the night. Hours just crawled along, slowly fading, fading into the nothingness. It had to be a long night, I had told my self, but I lay there not yet prepared to accept the fact. I waited for the first ray of sunlight to save me from my misery, to show me that I was not dreaming. I lay there, just drowning into my dream.
Was it a touch or a knock I couldn't tell, but something did wake me up. I was sweating, with a fast beating heart. I grabbed at the water that lay by the table, sipping, gulping it down. I could hear the water flow down my oesophagus.
"A bad dream?", a voice rang up behind my head,
"I don't think so, Just my regular late night marathon", I had to be sarcastic always. I couldn't help it though.
"Dude it ain't the time for kidding around, you got job to complete. Boss won't want you screw this one up.", Now I could clearly recognize the voice, may be I came out of the sleep or the mention of "BOSS" and "SCREW" brought me back to my senses. I couldn't tell though.
I think I was well prepared for the hit, but as nature has its own way, I couldn't actually pull the trigger on time, and that was the first time I had screwed things up. Then there was this girl who didn't die when I was actually paid to kill her. So I had a pretty long history of screwing things up. It was time for me to step down, give way to the younger and the hotter blood, and so I had decided, it was to be my last hit, last assassination as I would call it, or the last murder as the cops would call it. The money had been delivered, and I counted, 50% it said, and the rest after the work was done. I had cleaned up my gun, screwed in the silencer, loaded the magazine, and was prepared. The photograph of the lady whom I was supposed to kill lay besides the money. She wasn't old neither was she young. She looked more of a brunet than that of a redhead, but I couldn't actually say. She had a good face structure, with a good pointed nose, "An expensive nose job" was stamped all over it. I had studied her routines for a while now and I knew where would she go to walk her pooch, where she would go to hang out with her good for nothing brats. I knew her house, I knew her life. It was my job to know, and I was paid for it. I packed up everything neatly into a suitcase, took the keys to the car, and drove off. I had to reach the coffee shop before 9. It was just around the corner which she would be crossing, walking her stupid little dog. I had to wait, most of the days. Sipping some really crappy coffee. I saw her coming. The little dog running after everything it could get its mouth on. I tucked in my gun into my coat pocket, and walked slowly towards her.

"POLICE, don't move, just lay there with your hands above your head." The cops shouted as they barged into my bed room.
“I already have'em up officer, so please can you stop shouting into my ears early in the morning.”, and I was responded with a jab in the rib. Real bad, I could have died, but they know places where it hurts the most without taking even the slightest of your life. I writhed in pain for a while, and then was dragged up and taken to the station.

“So why did you kill her.” Finally I could say now, I had been sitting in the same place for about 2 hours. I should have walked around a bit, should have gotten my restless feet some exercise.
“I was paid to kill, you see I am an assassin, so I kill to get paid.”
I heard a light laughter, then another jab, this time into my jaw.
“That fucking hurt.”
“Who would pay such a clumsy person like you to kill any one ?”
I wanted to tell them everything about our organization, how it worked and how the targets and money were delivered. How much work was put into each target, but I couldn't. It was the organization's protocol not to talk about it to outsiders and cops were like a big no.
“You have killed 10 people, out of which two of'em survived, who wanted all these ten people dead.”
“I can't talk about it”
Then something I was not at all prepared for started to happen. The cops got the pictures of my previous victims. The table was turned into a display board, with the pictures sprawled all around the table. The pictures were gruesome. I almost threw up. Then something hit me, something which people would call as reality. None of the victims had died by my attacks. I had always used guns to kill, one single shot to the head and they die, but these victims were stabbed, slashed and god knows what all else.
“I don't kill like this. I use a gun”
The they showed me the picture of my latest victim. The head had been severed. I instantly threw up. I had to get my self out of this now. I hadn't done it. Some one else did, but not me. I started with the organisation. I knew I would be killed if I tell the cops about it. I told them how it works, how the money is handled, and who the boss is. I even gave them the way to reach the underground headquarters.

After spending four days in the prison cell I was transferred to a white building. Couldn't tell what it was, but it did look freaky. I was made to wear a white gown, and was locked up in a cell yet again. It didn't bother me, I was any way locked up before also, but what bothered me was that I was being punished for crimes I hadn't committed.
“We would like you to meet Dr Yanders. He is the head psychatrist.”
“Have I lost my marbles ??”
“It seems something like that.”
Dr Yanders told me that I had actually killed all my victims with a knife and not a gun and it was the most horrendous butchering ever seen by him. All of my victims were females, surprisingly, whose implication I couldn't understand. I had always thought that boss had some disliking towards women and he was just getting it out by just getting hit cases on women.
The next thing I heard practically made my heart stop pumping. All of my victims were bellow the age of 16.
Well I just recalled that one screwed up case, but Dr Yanders had other things to say.
I was kept in observatory for a while, before they told me what exactly was wrong with me. I was told that the underground headquarters I had talked about never existed. The place was just a drain dump. There was no Boss, or the delivery boy who delivers all of my tasks.
It took me a while to come into terms with the reality. A little too long. No one paid me, no one wanted those women or kids dead, no one actually cared about assassination. I couldn't look at my self, I was broken, I had done the most heinous crime, I had butchered 10 kids to death mercilessly, thinking that I was some hotshot assassin. Later on doctors told me I had schizophrenia, and that the gun, the Boss, and the delivery boy were all my imagination. I had to get out of this guilt. I have to live a guilt free life, It had to start with prison, but I had plans. Plans to easily get off that guilt.

It was one late evening when I finally found my self alone. I had to do something about my guilt, something about the guilt of killing those 10 innocent girls. I couldn't think of anything else. I put my hand in my pocket,

I found that gun I was hiding.