Spent a sleepy afternoon doing something that I thought would turn out beautiful

The Tautology

What if I knew what happened next?
Will I do something different to prove myself wrong?
But why would I do that?
Didn't they say, power is best when misused?
Well, you've made that power impotent now.
And why is that? I'm still the master of my own destiny.
Not really. What you have is a fancy dressed power of day dreaming. A well sauted status-quo.
Hmmm... Back to work now..

Palindromes
Wriggling like an upturned cockroach, a hand sets you straight. You set out for that elusive freedom. Prancing around at the cusps of transition. Defining loyalties, Shifting loyalties. The whole script reeks of inevitability, but no. You know that all's well doesn't end well; but you bask in denial. They say 'you chose the wrong road'; you scoff. Not at them, but at yourself for the charade. A charade that wasn't supposed to be. But you move on, wearily. Brevity and ignorance are virtues long lost.. Life was much better upside down.

Heresy


he listens to one, he listened to all,
too engrossed he was, when he himself called.
the man was now midway, in a meaningless chase,
looking behind forbidden, he could never retrace.
in search of a purpose, he cuts through the fog,
to humour himself, this dead horse he flogs.
his world panders, licks, whores and cheers,
choosing to bury, all their perpetual fears.
he walks in denial, with the neutered mob,
unaware of a tumour, the incurable slob.
the patron was back,to his insatiable best,
hungry he simpered, at the gratifying test.
red tastes sweeter, sweeter when old,
revenge served best, best served cold.
he died soon enough though, before his tales could be told..

The Stalker

you identify an emptiness
you dream of getting rid of it
you feel that you can do something about it
you seek out to do it
you are helped by someone who can get you there
he promises you happiness
you are influenced by him
you are burdened by his sphere of influence
but he promises you truth
you sometimes disagree with him
you slowly lose interest in him
he continues to pour a piece of his mind
you want to do this yourself
you try doing it your way
his advice turn to deaf ears
you bask at the easiness of the task
but you doubt yourself at the last step.
he has influenced you subconsciously
you stop doing it your way fearing failure
you run back to him
he censures, sermonizes
you decide to obey him
you realize that there is only one way - the right way
he smiles a smile of victory
you still aren't entirely convinced by him
you trudge along with him, compulsively
his nervous gait has a sense of assurance.
you question your motive.
you ask, "with happiness, what is the point of living anymore? there is nothing left to prove"
he turns a blind eye at your quandary
you introspect
you discuss, but there is no one to discuss with
he coerces you to try harder
you shudder at your apparent lack of confidence
you ask yourself "Who needs it? and for what reason?" and answer "no one, and for no reason"
he empathizes, and tries to convince you
you, accept defeat, but there is no turning back
you move ahead, swallowing fear and pain
but he refuses to walk in front
you feel his hands deserting you
you are now forced to walk alone
he turns from a guide to a stalker
you are a dead man walking, waiting for time to pass
you don't even trust your shadow anymore
he warns you about going too fast
you ignore the rules like sand
you step into the room
you feel the truth

you always knew the truth
you are surrounded by the answers
but the questions are not enough..
you are insufferable..
you are insufferable..

Devil or the deep sea

Her swanky corset dripping gold, her hair a peachy mess.
She breezed her way to the fireplace, to warm her arms and face.
A stifled whisper broke the ice, a gesture I perceived.
Provoked, evoked, aroused, I lay, entranced in the web she weaved.
The next step I sought, with cautious sense, a quandary I unmasked.
A labyrinth I feared, was in front of me, its answer I was asked.
"I know it all, I'll return too soon", was what I assured me.
Blink of an eye, a moment passed by, indulged I was in she.
Her arms around, we were heaven-bound, in her I was in.
and there we were, drenched in blood, I, the Lie, she, the sin.

To tame the sand-clock..

whispering tunes stroke our ears,

orchards for harvest exit left..

the moon tries its best to follow us,

a journey, a duty, a distraction to regret..

the bridges bid bon-voyage,

the gorges hoped we fell through..

these uncharted routes we set foot on,

to seek the elusive xanadu...

to stay longer during the good,

to accelerate through the pains..

was the spirit that we embodied,

to put an end to our banes..

in the quest of a glorious redemption,

we ate up mile after mile..

but the halo ahead was a mirage,

as the chase proved futile..

we realized we had grown older,

and the times had become worse..

"yesterday wasn't so bad after all",

exclaimed I, in my hearse..

The amputated wings of discretion

why must i do, what i am supposed to,

why, my master lays the rules.

why one and one makes two, i wonder,

are my mates wise men?, or are they ignorant fools?

the fellow sheep scorn at me,

a discordant outlaw, they lambast.

dont gaze at the other side of the river,

this is the line, we mustn't get past.

are we prisoners of mere logic,

are dreams never meant to be true?

why've we stopped listening to hearts,

why're we giving our minds such due?

bury your temptations, all for your good,

with glory he'll respond.

so much for a halcyon tomorrow,

my first steps seem beyond.......

my first steps seem beyond.......

can we touch, feel, the truth, can we see?
what is reality, is what puzzles me..

Is it
the artist swaying an elegant stroke?,
the beggar living in an eternal hope?..
the moth attracted to the light so bright?,
the pessimist lamenting his wretched plight?..
the dusk waiting for the sun to stay?,
the hummingbird flapping its wings away?..
the master enjoying the whiff of green?,
the priest singing an unending pean?..

what we see is what we believe,
though through a glass darkly, is what we perceive

green

spiral gunks of crawling snakes,
squeezed copious bouts of sanity..
the tabs had done the boy some good,
sweet smell he whiffed of clarity..

a world he was, where sinners danced,
in unison with saints divine..
anarchy was à la mode,
in these grasslands full of bine..

the realm was stalked, by a gainly mare,
a paradox profound..
"would today and now be memories,
when status quo comes around?"

the monotony of the sound,
as his feet hit the ground..
another journey that never was,
has cost him pound for pound..

Tradition child, tradition..

our foes, the vikings, had tamed the sea,
had landed on the shores, forbidden..
for fear, something they knew no more,
in hatred they believed..

Unprecedented, scary, evil.. Mumbai has been torn apart. The country is shocked. In such a tumultuous time, heroes have emerged, some unfortunately achieving martyrdom. I salute the brave policemen who are no more. The deceased who may have killed in the process of voicing their opposition against the evil. I salute the commandos of the NSG who have limited the damage exceptionally.

I digress to ask these questions.
Amidst all this furor of the uptown Taj and The Oberoi, has anyone of us given a damn about the so called 'low-profile' blasts and shootings at the Vile Parle flyover and the CST station?
Does the severity of a hideous come with its price and a monetary baggage?
Is the taxi driver's death in the Vile Parle blast almost a non-issue compared to the dramatic evacuation of a British hotshot??
Are issues like the suspension of the India England test series more relevant for discussion than paying due condolences to the Muslim hawker who lost his life at the CST shootout??

I have no problem with the media being heavily empowered. But nothing fails in this context more than that old cliche 'With great Power, comes great Responsibility'.

We sure would remember the incident, the terrorists as well as the 'high-profile' casualties but let us make it a point to remember the brave martyrs as well as the 'low-profile' casualties..

Update - this and this

I doff my hat, and nod in agreement..

http://listverse.com/music/top-10-most-overrated-bands/

One of those rare top 10s that I've completely agreed with.. almost

[Cannibalism of the Objects, 1937 - Dali]

Coated with spite and venom, a fresh tantrum hits the air.
The eerie silence broken, as she screams, "I want more!"
"But hey, you have snatched all I have got,
there is nothing left to pour."
"Nothing can stop me from quenching this thirst,
silly sod, it is you I want to devour."
Biting the hands that oft fed her,
the cannibal guzzled the red wine so sour...

10 years of being a gooner.
A million frames that have moistened the eyes.
One such frame...

The Actress

Histrionics overboard, dry eyes try to weep,

The tears couldn't be forced, emotions so deep.

Unfazed by truth, her heart of stone,

laughs at them somber baritones.

Cold streaks of arrogance, a scornful smirk,
poured down her visage, amidst the murk.
Enlightened, contented, the actress spoke,
"I break these shackles, I stamp the yoke".

The top actress in town, was all at sea,
the passionate act interrupted, by her insanity.
Livid, the ruthless ruler decreed,
to slay this thespian, her ilk and breed

"Har har, the whore shall pay for her impudence!",
"Long live the King!" rejoiced the audience
"He who is haughty must pay with his head",
"Chop!", roared the axe, as she lay there dead

A moment of silence, drowned the room,
liberated from the evils, despair and gloom.
The joyous spirit, escaped her remains,
transcended above with mock disdain.

I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven....

We ate at Mangalore, slept at Udupi, partied at Manipal and dreamt at Surathkal.. These weekends I love..

Cheers to Katti on a new journey - Marriage..




Photos courtesy Swathi and Su

Lessons
You glance at the clock only to be disappointed. It beams, while you curse yourself for being curious. Sunday is almost gone, the curtains are drawn on another weekend. You recollect, about the good things that happened. You regret, at not having made it better. You fear, at the thought of tomorrow. You wish, to clasp the final few minutes by its hands. You realize, that inevitability is a stronger crusader than dreams...

A sad day..
A day when Arjun Singh said, "I feel vindicated"

I'm looking forward to this new India, not!