Tuesday, 26 June 2018

The Fall

The men with flowers
The men with knives
The men with law
The men with ideas
The men with follies
The men of silence
The crowds of unnamed
Confess from their deep caskets
for a Purge that they dreamt
for the child-bearing women
through the city's clogged arteries
for the blossoming madness
with a trembling rhyme

The lubricated lop of sins
or the embroidered birth canal
from where The Fallen Angels,
are falling through, singing the songs of life.
Just like 'The Alice' fell through a rabbit hole.

Tuesday, 27 June 2017

Loops and Lubricants 2

One fine day I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of a Deja-vu. Imagine the situation! I mean you are half-asleep and trying to understand a deja-vu? That surely was not an ideal choice to get trapped on the bridge between your own conscience and subconscious self. So, when I was half awake and subtly destroying my serene sleep, somebody from outside called my name. I thought I am still dreaming but, still, I looked outside with bleak eyes, and I saw a blackbird trying to have a conversation with me. (Now don't ask me how was I able to saw a blackbird in the darkness!)
      I asked, 'Are you talking to me?' It simply nodded with a broad smile and said, I am a messenger of the mother Mnemosyne, and I am here to deliver a message. 'Mother, who?' I blurted out while losing a quarter of my sleep there. 'Mother Mnemosyne! Just Google it, man.' its blunt reply was the definition of bluntness. ''Ok'' I said, "What's the message?" It said, "WAKE UP."
       And one fine day I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of a Deja-vu.......

Monday, 3 October 2016

I feel, 
to have a feeling,
Just now in this very moment
I have already felt everything
that I am ever going to feel
in my ending days.

Thursday, 29 September 2016

Dead Strangers

It rained that day! I don't recollect the exact thought came to my mind while I was lying on a random bed in a random flat in Sukseria building. All I can remember is that it rained that day!! It's weird to remember a day just because of the usual rain and no such great memory attached to it. But the picture of a dark creamy-rusty wall and rectangular shape of the drizzling rain in the door frame of that wall. The building looked pretty much bored like her age. But lying there wasn't boring. After all, I am lying to myself after I dunno but many months. I could see a wall peeling that was about to fall on my face anytime.

Friday, 22 July 2016

I know a man who is out there. Who was always there since the beginning. He looks like me, dresses like me, talks like me, even he thinks like me, but he who pours his prayers into oblivion, sitting on a mountain. A mountain made up of the ashes of TIME. Ashes of this very minute and of all those things which have lost their fraction of existence during this very minute. He is always writing all that. Maybe a never ending poem or a never ending prayer? He is randomly touching all the empty names of his reality one by one.
          But I wish he should die & lose his immortality just like that. So, his death would become the entire essence of his poetry!

Monday, 7 September 2015

Nicolai: See, my girl sent me letters. She says that she still loves me. I told her in my last letter that I will fight these Nazis. I will kill as many as I can. I will make my mother Russia proud. Then I will return to her with medals on my chests.
Soldier: Haha.
Nicolai: What’s so funny brother?
Soldier: How naïve!
Nicolai: Naïve! I have a gun in my hand. Still, I look naïve? It's not my gun. Stalin gave me this. Some unknown comrade in Tula may have made it avenge his young boy who might have died in Ukraine fighting Nazis. We eat the food on the war front; the food is grown on our farms where our comrades fell in war. Where our children wept. We are fighting for the glory of our revolution and the glory of our great supreme leader Stalin!!
        We are fighting for the equality and justice for our future generations. For eternal victory and peace for proletariats.
Soldier: Eternal victory? I don’t know anything about this. All I know that I was a worker in a metal factory in Moscow. They said he looks fine. He will survive for a month more, and I am here with Stalin’s gun.
       It's they or us. Maybe they will die, and you and I live. Maybe they and I live, and you die. Maybe we all die.Finally, all that Stalin will do is, he will shake hands. Either with shame or madness with his eternal victory. We will go back to those places where we came from. Your girl won’t be the same, and I might not survive working in the factory for another month.
Nicolai: Maybe. But It's not just about us. It's about our motherland.
Soldier: Do you think it all survive?
All you ever knew,
You memories
Your Silent Gods
Heaven -Hell
Loved ones
Strangers & their kisses
Events and memories of all this
Planned moments
Unsaid words
Unknown, unfinished feelings
Your equality and justice
Bourgeoisie & Proletariats
Marx, Lenin, Stalin
The sense of rage
Dead Nazis
The blood of them on your dying feet
All will disappear
Just one sudden bullet inside you
Just like the wind blows inside your body mercilessly.
And it won’t matter
to matter anything, anymore.
You will be you for a brief moment
With Ecstasy,
While gasping for last breath with a bullet in your neck.
You will breathe just to breathe and nothing for your glory!!
Nicolai: Oh! What could be more horrible than this emptiness, at all?
Soldier: Why, Life itself!!

Monday, 3 August 2015

Dreams on rent

My city mocks me
With the senselessness
Of ideas
Through which I am gonna flow through. The infinite currents,
People, things, their life, my life... 
The manner of collision of thousand things into one
And one collision to scatter into thousands.

I am the guy
I jump over the wet pond
To call me the Sinbad
I am the guy who
Catch the 9.24 daily.

I am a chaiwallah
Who flows in the morning through the cities clogged arteries
A back office ITwallah 
Coding my rented dream