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

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.

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!

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
Love
Your Silent Gods
Heaven -Hell
Family
Loved ones
Relatives
Strangers & their kisses
People
Events and memories of all this
Feelings
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
Poof!!!
Bang!!!
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!!

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

A Murder Ballad

Come
Come hear thee sects of sane
cut out my tongue
Though there is nothing to say.

Legion 2.0

We laugh when machines tell us to laugh.
We become sad when machines say so.
We move our legs & go somewhere
where?
We are not sure or maybe
we're not allowed to be sure.

Our rationality altogether
may have been stored somewhere
in some random server
in a secret basement.

We choose,
we reject,
we hate,
we love when machines order so...

We are even told that,
Our soul! Our great amorphous soul,
with an unending eternal kindness,
is a mere database with coding.

We are the collective altar egos,
made up of cogs and wheels.

We are the decaying paradoxes.

We are products of our products.

Madbeth : Mad as a march hare

I don't remember the actual reason for which I have booked ticket's for Madbeth. Never been to Physical theater act before, Haven't had a clue either! Maybe I went to the show just cause, Rupesh invited me. But now I am happy he did that.
              Madbeth is a mental mini orchestra of strangers which starts with an actor and audience and ends up without an audience at all!!! All credit goes to Rupesh.  From the moment one, Madbeth took command of the theater and extended his realm by making the audience to express to every death and every spit he could spare. He dances, he sings, he fights, and he kills, saying it's all about death after all! But I particularly liked his chair scene. I think it symbolizes the extent of the power which consumes macbeth, making him not to leave it at any cost given. It absorbs him, cripples him, but still, he allows himself to dance like a cripple!! Another thing I liked a lot is, how he responds to every sneeze, out of time suppressed giggle and comments by individual's in the audience and modify his act accordingly.
                But there is so much than that. So many small details that one could only experience by watching it live. People, keep an eye on him, 'how he dances with the death in an erratic ballet' #Mcdeath #Mcburger #Mcalootikki

डोह- A film by Akshay Indikar (Short Review)

I woke up.
I shat.
I had tea,
while I smoked.
But did I exist?
            Somewhat this kind of similar question was slammed on my face while watching 'DOH.' It's really very satisfying that somebody is asking this question and underlining it with making a film. It forces to ask oneself that, can you able to listen to your subtle flute tunes out of your 'hard techno trance'kinda edgy life? The film relates & it pokes viewer's idea of conscientiousness about his/her existence.
This whole film is about the linear story of the genuine naivety of perplexed protagonist's first ever intimate physical love experience. This naivety of hers travels erratically with many breaks due to daily life humdrum. She has been treated like a partner in crime, so forcefully hidden in the bathroom and then thrown out, but eventually, she finds her 'TRUE LOVE' in the edited version of intimate fantasies in her bathroom and then in a phone call!!!! I found this sad and sarcastic but very real.
           Well, the film becomes a multi-angular coherent art when considered with the angle of feminism. The female view goes with the fragile deconstruction of her intimate experience (beginning scene and second bathroom scene), while male view goes with the immense dominant ignorance, is wondersome. The correspondence of patriarchy ow whatever, the male view is also accepted by her!! (I remembered Q's 'love in India') Another round of applause for our society which keeps and will keep parading in circles.
           I loved the subject of the film. Film's cinematography and sound designing are interestingly good, so does the acting. (especially the first bathroom mirror scene.)

My wishes and good luck for upcoming project

लूप्स आणि ल्युब्रिकन्टस

निरपराध माणसं मारणार्‍यांनी,
त्याला खुलं समर्थन करणार्‍यांनी,
केवळ मनातल्या मनात खुष होणार्‍यांनी,
चुकीचं वाटूनही सुप्त आनंद झालेल्यांनी

निरपराध माणसं मारावीत.
त्याला खुलं समर्थन करावं.
मनातल्या मनात खूष व्हावं.
चुकीचं वाटलं तरी सुप्त आनंद घ्यावा.

तरीही कमी पडलंच तर, (नक्कीच पडेल)
मैथुनाचा आनंद घ्यायचाच असेल तर,
शिवाजी पार्कसारखं काहीतरी बूक करा.
जमा सगळ्यांनी एकत्र.
करा आपली गटारं मोकळी.
हातही मोकळे करा.
काढा आपली लिंगं बाहेर
एकमेकांची वेश्या होऊन
एकमेकांची साफ चिघळवून टाका

आपापली हिन-दीन 'संस़्कृती'
आपापसात धरुन खेचा.
दातांनी, नखांनी ओरबाडा.
कपडे फाडून यथेच्छ पिळा.
उधळा.
पालथी पाडा.
सगळे सोपस्कार करा.

मग
सनातन संस्कृतींच्या अनौरस पिढ्यांनो,
मग उरली सुरली भेगाळलेली
हीच संस्कृती स्वतःला लागू करा.
बनवा नवी जातीव्यवस्था
होउ दे निमिषार्धात
पुन्हा शतकांनुशतकांची प्रक्रिया
स्तोत्रं,धर्म,तलवारी, बंडखोरीच्या
न जाणो कितीतरी लक्ष योनींतुन
जाउदेत तुमची लक्तरं.

जेव्हा शेवटाला तुम्हालाच
प्रत्येक शतकांत
प्रत्येक कोपर्‍यांत
जिथेतिथे स्वतःच सोडलेल्या विष्ठेचे संदर्भ लागतील,
तेव्हा कदाचित तुम्हाला
होतील आत्मिक साक्षात्कार!!
आपला सगळ्यांचा जन्म इथुन तिथुन नव्हे
तर प्रत्यक्ष ब्रम्हाच्या विष्ठेतुन झाल्याचे,
माणसाच्या दुरवर अथांग पसरलेल्या
भुकेच्या वाळवंटाचे,
त्याच्या तिळतिळ तुटणार्‍या आतड्याचे,
मुक्त उमलणार्‍या फुलणार्‍या जीवांच्या सुक्ताचे,
प्रेमाच्या प्रबळ आंतरीक उर्मीचे.

तेव्हाच तुमच्या बांधलेल्या जगातुन
मुक्त माणसांचे तांडे बाहेर पडतील
माणसांच्या दिशेने.