Inside-OUT.

A thinking hand, a moving mind,
Lips in distress, while rings in hand outshine.
I lost control over myself
Ever since I saw my skin beautify.

With rings in hands, and tattoos on arms speak,
But my mind.
The mind didn't fathom
the eccentric musings that
Scattered like mirrors.

Mirrors of a charade of existence,
Of the life denied;
A life of butterflies and songs,
A life here, and a life there;
a life yearned for to and fro,
a life that comes on the floor.

Floors of horizon, not a far-sighted illusion,
Grounded.
Breathes light.
In the darkness of my Pretense,
The only existence that I know of.

Skin beautifies, skin deepens
The chasms of pain that I self-inflict.
The Self I could never meet.
I inflict pain on the only
Existence that i know of-
The humus etched on me,
Speaks volumes buried
Deep within,
Of the long forgotten
Human in me.

Tapping Apples, Tapping Life.


Apples speak, apples turn around and speak,
Apples with a cheek.
Cheeky redness had been swallowed
in the bygone vampire years.

Didn't it all come with a warning?
Of course, not.
For nothing comes back,
Evading the apple glory.
For everything comes back,
Tapping away the apple story.

And so they returned, making subtle appearances.
Reminding us, "wise" and corrupted men
of a corrupted story.

Props are not funny things, apples speak.
Props of "unreal" world, and hence,
props of reality,
giving identity.
Apples are fashioning vampires
in bizarre cinematic stories.
Apples speak through Adam, the vampire.
astonishing us, "men of intellect",
tapping away the apple glory.

Apples make us tap and dance to their tunes,
the tap dance of a forgotten era continues,
never did it fade.
Apples are clever.
Mac-book tapped,
echoing a charade of modernity
through the eyes "(i's)" of "new-age" communication.
Reverberating distorted images, unreal reality,
Inescapable reality.
I-pads tapped, I-pods tapped.
Phones tapped, expressions tapped.
Communication tapped,
Gift of humanity tapped
Fingers tapped, Minds trapped,
Humans trapped.
Apples are clever.

Slavery returned, slavery continued.
Forever corrupting us, children of Adam.
Tapping away the apple story.

Nose-talgia

It had waited for long.

Now the wait was over.

It knew it had to meet,

That very Cold that made its insides wounded.

No it shall not attend this time.

Any air looming large over those idiots.

Nosy enough it had been for long

Prying, and sniffing away the dirt.

Now the Cold was to be its only client, no not that.

A seasonal fling,

With an intense lover.

The ghastly ring had tested its patience

Just once.

The pain had heightened the glory

Of the darkened walls.

Ashamed of their grotesque appearance,

Little monsters were afraid to come out then

For they were not born out of love.

Slimy and ever so sickly sticky they remained.

But it was different with Cold.

Wasn’t it?

That playful, sinful lover.

Like music it pandered

To the evil insides

Shielded behind the ugly children.

The wait was now over, love had come.

They grew.

Who, the children? No, not them.

Pains and sneezes galore.

Little monsters too blossomed

Into long, movable freaks.

Yet remained obstinate to move out.

Enjoying love

soon to wither away.

Masochism meant to procure

A sense of pride,

For the color made it evident.

Yes, that very color of love and blood.

Made the damn ring fall.

Power of love, anyone?

Reality bites...

TELIVISION.PESSIMISM.ENTERTAINMENT.EYES WIDE SHUT.

The letter ‘k’.Spawned magic on television.Surged the TRPs.Raked in big bucks for many aspiring producers.Others too followed in the footsteps of star plus,in a bid to turn around their wheels of fortune.In no time,Ekta kapoor became the queen of the teletube.The letter ‘k’.Her lucky mascot.It made her famous.Succesful.Adorable.

And this,indeed,revolutionalised the telivision industry…but at what cost???

The K Soaps spunned the web of negativity around on television ,which in turn manifested into our lives in a subtle, and yet, an inevitable manner.They’ve donned the telescreen for quite sometime now.And after years of continuos subjection to grotesque images of the badly scripted K serials,we,the viewers, don’t fancy the idea of breaking our reconcilation with the highly gloomy and acrid notion of life these seem to project.Infact, so well acquainted have we become with the ‘fake reality’ these delineate that we perk up with every new offering that comes up on the block.

It is quite evident that our definition of entertainment has undergone tremendous alterations over the years, however, elusive it might be.We tend to associate entertainment with anything which provides us with sinister, disdainful,mocking and often scornful impressions about life in general.This could be attributed to the countless reality shows that have been reigning the small screen for a while now.Take for instance Mtv’s Hero Honda Roadies.The show boasts about being succesful in its attempt to ‘identify’ with the youth.In the show, it is required of the participants to prove their mettle at performing some supposedly daring tasks.The one who proves to be the strongest of them all wins.Err..no…not really.The one who is able to play enough mind games, in a spiteful fashion,to knock out other contestants from the show is the most probable winner.He is the winner in the eyes of the younger lot, never mind if he is as poor in his GK as being oblivion to the fact who the president of India is. Bitching.Bickering.Cribbing.The show is incomplete without all of these.They are the show’s USPs.This is what it takes to be a roadie.

I wonder.Is this what the youth of this country really identifies with???

YES.

Nothing can change the fact that the show is a hit.It clicked with the audience right fom its inception and has been running succecfully for over five years now.And what more, other channels have too made sure that they come up with something wherein enough ‘bitching around’ seeps into the show’s concept.

This is what a succesful show is partly or wholly about-negatively potrayed drama,real or fake,whichever way it may seem. But as long as it is able to grab the attention of our eyeballs,who’s complaining?Who cares about such shows going on air if they are able to raise the TRPs,never mind the invisible levels of negativity they pierce into our lives?Who cares if they make idols out of cheeky folks who apparently don’t have a purpose in life save constant acrimony?

I don’t.No.I don’t.

Because you know what…I’m just one of you…

THE VIEWER.

A 'Remote' possibility.....

Ever wondered what unthinkable changes could a mere piece of plastic, tucked carelessly under your pillows, bring about in your lives???What wonders or blunders could an nth scientific creation, which you inadvertently drop, and yet don't feel sorry about, nestle into your lives???Haven't you ever acknowledged how essential a commodity has it become in your households as, your fridge, your washing machine, your air conditioner, or even your television, for that matter, to which it has been blissfully married, for over years now....???
Yes, undoubtedly and unmistakably,I'm talking of this incomparable and unsubstituted bantam device, the 'remote control', which you search for under desperate circumstances and get mad at your inability to trace it when some moron is crooning endlessly on television to your disguise, or some news anchor is bombarding you with breaking news which apparently takes a perpetual stand! 'Incomparable' and 'unsubstituted', I call it, unless you don't agree with the idea of moving up your asses from your beds or sofas and caring to walk a 4-5 feet distance towards your television sets to tune into the channel of your choice.
You curse it.You beat it.Often you hammer it to the extent that the cells come flying off at times.You even thrash it at times when it fails to be in unanimity with you that 'aastha' channel is not the one one should ache for...and your television leaves you with utterly disturbing and irritating, often intolerable images of the many babajis and gurujis who never quite flinch from flocking to your 21 inches screen.But, it doesn't get affected by your disgruntled looks.Even while you slaughter it to imprint the invariable and unseen scratches on its wonderfully robust body(yes, robust...even after weeks of continuous onslaught,it never quite loses its 'sturdiness'!),it doesn't fail to stick to its idea of pragmatism by prompting the television not to ward off the palest imagery of a news channel....and how you wish dad wasn't around...
At times, you flip through the channels in faint hope that your remote control would continue to be obedient and would not cease to operate, to deliver something you would never wish to exercise your eyeballs for during any time of your life.But 'hopes' never turn into reality....at least not in this case!It shatters all your wishes, and slyly, in front of your mom, decides not to function the moment your television cries out the glorifying images saaree-clad saas-bahus. Again, you helplessly look on, in seething silence, for this time the intended destination was Star Movies....and not Star Plus! Even worse, how at times, you wish you weren't having dinner with your family when your television, out of the blues, starts delivering some family- unfriendly visuals. The remote, again, puts you under some of the oddest circumstances and continues to sneer and jeer at your sheer discomfort!It even shows you how courageously it can succumb to the injuries it has suffered after subjection to constant butchery for over weeks, as it rubbishes your idea of a favorite channel. It doesn't cater to your whims and fancies, and for reasons well-known only to itself, doesn't quite obey its master! It continues to bear the brunt of your anger with remarkable strength.
This dinky device has indeed made us a nation fully loaded with idle prats and couch potatoes, happily munching away pop corns and chips, never mind the amount of calories ignorantly taken in. How, surprisingly, it turns a nonchalant codger into an impulsive and an aggressive bloke who fights over things as absurd as the desire to get a glimpse of a favorite channel. And, you again can't deny its role in nurturing sibling rivalry, when each of the two fights over its possession and within seconds, the verbal spat takes the form of a violent tussle.
Imagine, how wonderfully you can touch upon the highest levels of active behavior simply by not laying your hands on the remote control!This would mean willingly walking up to your television sets every time you decide to change a channel.This simple and yet not so 'simple' exercise could chuck that flab out of your belly. But for that to happen, you'll have to chuck the remote first. Greater is the amount of pleasure you might achieve when your boss suddenly decides to hike your salary seeing your bustling energy, as you engage in increasing forms of active behavior!
Now, before you contemplate treating me the same way as you sometimes treat your dearest remote, for imparting you with the eccentricities of it and equally eccentric pieces of advice mentioned in the paragraph above, I bring this chapter to a close. Helplessly, I search for my remote control....

DUB

RAPTURED ILLUSIONS


Numb were her desires,
For they needed a healing,
A deep jolt of awakening ,
to rekindle a feeling.

Feelings of love,feelings of pain,
Ushered her to let go all moments in vain,
For they needed a soul who could abate,
Unleashing her apart,her senses to elate.

She longed,she yearned,
And growled in pain,
Could not endure despair
share the moment's gain.
But strong was her hankering
to refill her desolate soul,
And like a whore waited to be fondled by him.

Again she cried,she sobbed in agony,
For this time she found him pacify
her soreness.

He plunged within her poignant heart,
To uproot her sufferings,
and ripped them apart.
Like a chivalrous knight,
he tried to fight,
the obstinate fears
that thronged her plight.

She jumped and danced
like a scruffy peeress,
And yet looked so genteel,
like a soigne mistress.
A thud so enlightening
panged her heart,
And like a whore,
she let him slit her apart....