Passive corners...

Deep inside,
deep, deep inside,
I've gone and settled in the passive corners of my mind.

That corner,
the active spaces have been dishonoured,
this is not my flavour.

So blocked,
in that passive corner I just unknowingly walked,
now I think I'm locked.

The passive corners so dark,
so unaware,
illogical,
now I'm there.

The air's so heavy,
I have difficulty breathing,
I need some warmth,
this passive corner's freezing.

Settled in a corner,
I have to get out,
where does this corner lay?
What is it about?

Outside I'm so numb,
why to this did I have to succumb?

In that passive corner,
I feel so blocked,
so lost,
so queer.

Looking at the empty spaces,
my heartbeat paces.
So passive,
so weak,
to this I can't be meek.

The passive corner,
making me feel like a goner.
I have to kick the door open,
it's been a long time since the last word I've spoken.
This is what it's like when I've entered the passive corner of my mind.

This beautiful painting is painted by Van Renselar, an abstract artist.
( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://johnherberger.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/van-renselar-abstract-art-abstract-art.jpg&imgrefurl=http://johnherberger.wordpress.com/&usg=__LrwfttH_ws3HiyltR_2CFdXtY7g=&h=500&w=500&sz=50&hl=en&start=4&sig2=mwB_FCmudj5_8cpvREANfw&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=ckP_6BIMPYGjJM:&tbnh=130&tbnw=130&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dabstract%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26ndsp%3D20%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=qiPwS-7hJc2HkAXLxbjoBg )

Threshold.

You entered and touched me,
I was in love,
it was such a strong and profound emotion,
I was so touched emotionally.

Our hearts were tied together,
you were so tender,
soft as a feather.

Our hearts were tied,
we succumbed to mortality,
but our love never died.

You had a heart of gold,
you changed me,
you changed me once you entered my threshold,
the threshold to my heart.

That balcony,
the day we kissed,
I still feel your presence,
Juliet your missed.

Love tied our hearts,
I thought we would never part.

Then anger was broken free,
the enmity of our families.
We tried to fight,
fight with all our might.
But, what can I say,
in the end we lost.

For destiny was cruel,
cruel to our love,
in the end it was death we had to hug,
Me Romeo and you Juliet,
our hearts will forever be tied.

Picture from the net- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://markgorman.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/romeo-and-juliet-print-c10282861jpeg.jpg&imgrefurl=http://markgorman.wordpress.com/2008/09/07/rj-a-rock-musical/&usg=__pobOcfR79eH3P_xGcGMTQL__48U=&h=450&w=359&sz=49&hl=en&start=3&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=2mzjvjh3VMRUYM:&tbnh=127&tbnw=101&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dromeo%2Band%2Bjuliet%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

Morning light...

I wake up,
I open my eyes,
I see broken light.

Drops on the leaves,
fresh, pure, untouched,
at this moment nothing hurts that much.

The birds,
chirping away to glory,
I feel good,
I don't feel the lethargy.

Every ones still sleeping,
the trees are peeping,
this moment, in a box preserved I feel like keeping.

The sun has just arrived,
the world at this moment is not alive.

That short moment,
the short moment of simple happiness,
I feel blessed,
blessed at the sight,
blessed at sight,
blessed with the morning light.

Picture from the net - ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.bellewood-gardens.com/Morning%2520Light.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.bellewood-gardens.com/06-2007.html&usg=__RWtU8V9oy4a_67byBNYYCOctXqQ=&h=450&w=600&sz=102&hl=en&start=2&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=FF1v82N0sRSozM:&tbnh=101&tbnw=135&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmorning%2Blight%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DG%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

The unholy stain.

There's a stain on the wall,
a certain stain,
an unholy stain,
a stain that caused so much pain.
A stain that can't be cleaned,
it's always on the mind,
painful memories are behind.

That stain that is not properly seen by the eyes,
that stain that's always in the mind,
behind the stain there are so many lies.

That stain,
it looks like faded mud,
some people know it's actually blood.

Someone got killed,
on the floor most of the blood spilled,
yet in left one unholy stain on the wall,
oh, that unholy wall at the end of the hall,
the unholy wall,
the unholy stain.

Eyes stiched on...

Eyes snitched on,
he watched the world through other peoples mind,
what he thinks is gone,
he can see,
but he's still blind.

One small stitch,
a stitch across the eye,
what he thinks sees is just a lie.

Eyes exposed,
the world knows,
the world knows what he sees,
thoughts exposed.

He sits in the corner by his chair,
the sunshine penetrates his gloomy house by the narrow window,
the window resembles his mind.

Those eyes,
brown like honey.
Everyone knows what's behind those eyes,
everyone knows what's on his mind,
everyone knows what he's thinking as he sits on his chair with sunshine penetrating his house through the narrow window,
a window mush like his mind.

Solitude...

I'm far, very far,
far away, very far way,
I lay, on my own,
alone, near the light blue water,
blue with a tinge of golden,
right now I'm my own lover.

So peaceful I feel,
this journey I started,
I'm alone,
I'm with natures zeal.

Solitude,
one of the best things felt by me,
solitude can set a repressed soul free,
right now it's just me and the wide blue sea.


Picture from the net- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://bonnie.bronleewe.net/mypages/images/seaside_suz_sunset.jpg&imgrefurl=http://bonnie.bronleewe.net/mypages/walkbeachsunset.html&usg=__SRjKQtC2cyfBqFUW5BVUxp9fD_s=&h=235&w=400&sz=23&hl=en&start=3&sig2=BB5ScFkSnj3ttHWDv7VbPw&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=oweqxuaCJXHLMM:&tbnh=73&tbnw=124&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgirl%2Bstanding%2Bon%2Bbeach%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=-BLwS6SDM9CLkAWb77HnBg )

Who is the alien?

The Earth is said to be 4 millon years old and created by a Big Bang. Who told us this? It's something we know. There was extensive research on this by geologists, scientists, speacailists, etc. That is how much I know and pretty much everyone knows but what if that's just half the truth? What if there's a lot more? What if there's a secret? What if...

A long time ago, a very long time ago, a very, very, very time ago. To be more precise about 40,00000000 years ago. There was a planet called Galio. Galio was much like earth only much larger and was made of an element called Scrometium, an element not available on Earth, no where. There were three types of living beings that lived there the Nakarmas, the Hoomrooms and the Qui's.
The Nakarmas were the superior beings, they were born superior. Their bodies were superior. They were not forms of carbon. They were forms of tungsten. They skin could withstand fire, they were the most intelligent, they were large and they were certainly not modest about their superiority. The lived in the purified areas. Only for themselves. The Hoomrooms could only enter if they took a medicine called 'Cathod' and rub 'purifying lotion' made of a certain synthetic material. The Qui's were strictly not allowed to breathe the same air as the Nakarmas. If the Nakarmas ever even was near a Qui then there was a huge ceremony of purification. However, there were different means of torture. Leaving out all the rest the Qui's were treated like dirt and badly tortured.
Well, as usual most people were born to follow and only some people who actually lead, that's exactly what happened.
Most of the Qui's were just depressed but, there was one who actually wanted the Qui's to be treated equally and they knew it wasn't going to be in this planet.
Zillat, a young man with very good base of science wanted to make a new planet. Only one person knew Zillat was not full Qui, his mother. His mother was a Qui and his father was a Nakaram. Zillat was 21 years old. His mothers name was Zini and fathers name was Illat. They met near a river while Zini was collecting some water for herself and Illat was strolling around the river. She was the most the most beautiful women he had seen and Zini thought he was extreamly charming. They fell in love and soon were in a relationship. They mated and had a wonderful son but Illat was detected as a contamination and then killed. That son was Zillat.
Zillat was born to be a leader. He grew up and by the time he was 21 he started building a planet, a specail planet, the beautiful Earth.
He decided that Earth was going to be the planet of the Qui's...
Earth had to be a lot like Galio. Suitable living conditions, gravity, oxygen, correct temperature, etc. But, one thing was different he had to create another element as scrometium would only survive in the position Galio was in, 1st, right in front of the sun. That's way the Nakarams could withstand heat. The Hoomroom's could withstand heat but the Qui's could not they used to melt that's why most them lived at the poles.
Earth was finally ready when Zillat was at the age of 23. Earth took off by itself and laded on the third position near the sun.
Now Zillat was trying to work on a way to transport people now. He realized people were a lot more difficult to transport then a planet as people are weaker then planets. He started to work on a way to transport people to Earth. But before he did that he had to make cells to know if living things can survive.
20 years later-
A pathway discovered ( Written by Zillat)
I found it, it took me twenty years, twenty years as I now embark this journey, my people are being tormented even more , it's time we Qui's left, all of us. Enough of all this cruelty. I'm just back from my planet, Earth has turned out quite well. The cells I planet are no more just the unicellular cells I made, they have turned into these gigantic creature, I named them dinosaurs. They are carbon compounds and each living form on each will be a carbon compound. Anyways, the escape route is in the ocean 'Galiowan', an escape from Galio. Unfortunately only a few of us Qui's will survive.
It requires swimming deep into the ocean. There's a pit. The pit sucks in a living body if they are carbon forms. After being sucked in the pit you arrive in a vacuumed tube and fall into a dense liquid and them fall onto the lap of my daughter, Earth...

A secret disclosed-
What? How can we leave Galio, it's where we belong, it's where we were born. I did expect more eagerness from the Qui's. But I understood , they were scared and apprehensive. How could they believe me? what if Earth was a lie? How could I create another planet like Galio? I could understand their apprehension, it did sound very strange. But then my strong convincing powers played in and I ended up making them quite eager to leave Galio and become inhabitants of Earth.

Goodbye Galio-
We started our journey from the crack of dawn. It was an emotional affair, people and a sense of eagerness in them and as we were almost in the ocean every Qui looked back once, saw Galio for the last time. I remember my mothers gaze, it was as if her eyes were glued to Galio and then she said to me "Son, I love you, you were the reason I lived through all this betrayal, you are the light of my eyes", that was actually the first time she said something like that to me, I only hope she could withstand the force of the pit and live a happy life on Earth.I also had a sense of guilt for not telling the full truth, no one except me knew that only half these people would come out alive...

The journey-
Finally we were all ready to go. All of us swam in deep in and after the emotional moment a few minutes before this was an emotionless moment.
This was like a secret pathway out of Galio, I have a theory, what if every planet had a secret pathway out? Anyways, this was really not the time for theories. We entered the pit.

The transition-
Sucked in, that moment was just so strange. The force, the pressure, it all felt as if it was tearing me apart. Then series of changes my body was going through first the vacuum, then the dense liquid.
I felt like I was floating and I don't remember what happened after that but things getting darker, I couldn't hear and I passed out.

Earth-
I opened my eyes. I felt so dazed and feeble. I was staring at the vast sky of dusk.
I passed out again.
I felt the light under my closed eye lids. It was energizing. In fact it was the reason I woke. I stood up, stared at the serene beauty, I felt like I owned this beauty. I looked around and to my satisfaction most of the people were alive but unfortunately some couldn't make it. I felt the best when I saw my mothers face. This was our place now, a place for the Qui's but, unlike Galio, this is a place where every living creature would enjoying equal rights and live in peace and harmony.

Life on Earth-
Earth is a lot like Galio but, there is a lot of diversity in nature. There are sub species to the species I created. It was here that I realised the scarce population of the Qui's. I estimated that in the next 10-20 years there won't be any pure Qui's.

Galio's fate and it's effect on Earth.
10 years later-
We moved just in time. A big meteoroid hit Galio, it's just dust now. It made us feel terrible. A part of the meteoroid hit Earth. There was shortage of food for many days. The gigantic creatures just died.

The Apes-
There were many new species. The most unique were Apes. My guess is that they evolved from monkeys. They are a lot like us Qui's, they walk on their hind limbs and are quite intelligent and have a significantly higher IQ than the other species.

The humans
As I had estimated there would be no pure Qui', I turned out to be right. There are these new species called humans, half Ape and half Qui. They have an IQ even more than Apes and Qui's. Their population is increasing day by day...

Somewhere, lies the soul of Zillat, he achieved more than anyone has achieved in a life time. Somewhere is the dust of the ruined Galio and somewhere is an escape from Earth and somewhere someone tries to write want to be science fiction based on made up theories. Somewhere some who asks this insignificant question-



"Who is the Alien? "


The End...

Up hill...

Huff and puff,
I don't know if I'm that though.
I can't hold on much longer,
I thought I was much stronger.

I'm just holding on,
it's tearing me,
I'm feeling the usual,
god damn lethargy.

Up hill,
it's my choice,
but against my will.
I'm going up hill.

Energy lost,
I'm still waiting,
right now the idea of going down hill is so infatuating.

The heat is getting to me,
I'm going against gravity,
success is more difficult that failure,
that's the unfortunate truth,
that's what people told me.

I fought,
quite a lot,
I went up hill,
still, against my will,
but, that was what was to be done,
in a way it was fun,
I reached my destination,
now I'm going down hill,
the thing on which I had infatuation.

Picture from the net- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://lissa10279.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/uphill-road.jpg&imgrefurl=http://talesofadisorderedeater.org/2008/12/&usg=__5kaeDq25MtkUlRlpfqg1TE4tSH8=&h=500&w=367&sz=117&hl=en&start=1&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=Xm6f_FOiDXqeSM:&tbnh=130&tbnw=95&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dup%2Bhill%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

Taliban, books and bloody fanatics...

Taliban, translation student. If you mention this word anywhere the things that will come to peoples minds are the , terrorists, terror, destruction, etc. Well, all of them are true. But as everything has history so does the Taliban. The basic and simplified history is, though this should not be simplified, it's a very complicated thing, still in short it was a group funded by the Americans in order to get back to Russia and after a while America abandoned them and the Taliban's got very dominating, dangerous and out of control. The Taliban dominated society is in a very bad shape. They have rules like a women must wear a hi jab, a women cannot wear high heels, lipstick or anything that contributes to their vanity, music is strictly forbidden, a man has to have a beard and cover his head and lots of other things. They have three enemies freedom, happiness and peace. They are hardcore fanatics. Destruction and manipulation the name of Allah? In the name of Islam? What? I'm sorry Allah, I'm sure you want peace and harmony amongst all people and you must be feeling horrible that these people are so terrible. Not only Allah but all of us. Taliban is the mother of all the terrorist groups.

I finished reading the book ' The kite runner', I loved the book. I love Khalid Hosseni's writing. .If I ever meet Hosseni I'll say one thing, "Keep writing like you do". I loved the way I get entangled in the book and the characters. Personally I liked 'The kite runner' more than 'The thousand splendid suns' although 'The thousand splendid suns' is great too. According to me both the books have one thing in common the importance of a profound bond of love.

I'm curious about Afghanistan, I want to go, I don't know why. But, I'm curious about a lot of places and a lot of things. Curiosity is inseparable from me.
Afghanistan was the land of poets, music, kabob's, etc. After the Russian invasion when the Taliban's entered and people thought their entrance was freedom, what would they know how badly the Taliban's would actually ruin Afghanistan. They raped Afghanistan, not only Afghanistan but many other countries that they dominated. These countries need a new era.
The Taliban's themselves have done horrendous things like use small children as sex slaves, polygamy and a lot of atrocious things.

I like religion. I'm an agnostic myself. My ears burn when people say anti a particular religion stuff. But,religion has many problems, each religion. The problem is the dogma, caste and divisions and those bloody fanatics...

Ban Taliban's and ban the fanatics...

Increased friction...

Dried roses,
a dry and dull maroon,
between the silent morning and the night alive lies the golden noon,
between all this silently it watches,
the silence of the moon.

The scent was long gone,
the light only cracked at dawn,
my eyes were burning looking at the light,
I felt empty,
I had nothing to fight.

Dried ink,
the redness was gone,
the beauty was gone,
they are rotting now,
they are an ugly pink.

Life was all about memories,
if only things were dealt with differently,
I would meet it,
a sweet thing called glory,

Dried roses,
monotonous music notes,
fresh, that's just an illusion,
there's nothing new with which we can build that fort.

The same writing,
the same reasons for all the commotion and fighting.
The same words,
the same birds,
the same essence,
the same twilight,
but, it's magical,
it's an obstacle,
increased friction between is and fresh,
it leaves us with memories,
and for the present it creates a mess,
increased memories,
increased friction.



PICTURE FROM THE NET- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.impactlab.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/memories.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.impactlab.com/2008/08/24/false-memories-may-affect-behavior/&usg=__nGjgs-78sezdZZO6O5yjdYIGcWk=&h=720&w=480&sz=56&hl=en&start=6&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=o693uxCIlVFQzM:&tbnh=140&tbnw=93&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmemories%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

Questioning lucidity...

Eyes wide open,
I have woken,
woken when I didn't want to wake,
I'm not ready,
I still need to bake,
I'm still partially baked batter,
I'm not yet a cake.

I was sleeping,
now I'm awake,
all I see is real,
I like surreal.

I never wanted lucidity,
now I've reached it,
the craziness has fallen in a pit,
a pit too small,
this lucidity is driving me crazy,
I might just fall,
being lucid is hazy.

My eyes are wide open,
more then I'd like,
I hate that condescending sight,
should I disgracefully fight?
Fight until I reach the magical light?

My dreams are a beautiful arc,
lucidity straightens it all out,
lucidity breaks my heart.

People say aiming for the sky is too high,
what do you know,
you can't fly.
I ask why?
Why can't I fly?
I question lucidity,
I question them,
why can't lucidity be questioned?
I thought it wasn't written,
I question lucidity,
I question,
I question and listen.

Picture from the net- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5mTy3NuWQ9w5vGVqA9bLpuikBnEs7FFLpvhdTNr-1H6UTi8kB04ttVwcPm_oyKQlN2VwO71naO6QcJRWxRWIp6hYUuNGHexHEznnJzAvcO0Va0hbpoH6NourCeCOLXX1hwdUnE8O5Gw/s576/day+three+o+seven.+add+color+to+my+sunset+sky.+by+reflecting+truth+via+Flickr.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.thatunreliablegirl.com/2009_02_01_archive.html&usg=__bA15zd_VMBXqMquzdYZl068wayk=&h=498&w=422&sz=44&hl=en&start=5&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=daN0OTrJZ1pdCM:&tbnh=130&tbnw=110&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgirl%2Blooking%2Bat%2Bsky%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

Thoughts, just thoughts...

He was silent,
silently liked violence,
he wanted to speak,
he was too quiet to reach the peak.

Violence and silence,
he liked both,
violence was his raw flesh,
silence was his coat.

Violence was what he fantasied about,
violence made him aroused.
He was so ashamed at his sadistic thoughts,
he always thought it was better not to talk.

Thoughts were what hew had,
many thoughts made him sad,
being silent about them made him feel glad.

He left,
left his little nest,
his nest of silence.
He finally saw some sunshine,
they came back sometimes,
he was like sweet lemonade and sadistic thoughts was his lime,

He's no more silent,
but some times,
very rare though,
he has his sadistic thoughts,
thoughts of violence,
just thoughts,
he is clean cloth and the thoughts are just a small dirty spot,
just thoughts.


Picture from the net - ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://i.pbase.com/o4/27/613727/1/58056621.SADLITTLEBOY.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.pbase.com/ces0357/image/58056621&usg=__wB9xuMvBvAoWXFWIK_6j1geEIaY=&h=598&w=658&sz=84&hl=en&start=1&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=UY6LItnOTAVOdM:&tbnh=125&tbnw=138&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dsmall%2Bboy%2Blooking%2Bsad%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

The raining lights, her and the paparazzi...

As the lights rained on her face,
she's a superstar,
the head of this place.

Paparazzi here and there,
she's the centre of attention,
everyone gives her their full glare.

They know everything about her life,
that smirk on her face,
she's the head of this place.

The fans are out,
she asks them to go but secretly loves their attention,
for that no one has a doubt,
it's been raining lights ever since she left her house.

Picture from the net- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.smh.com.au/ffximage/2008/06/25/paparazzi_lead_wideweb__470x321,0.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.smh.com.au/news/relationships/selfmade-superstars/2008/06/25/1214073324481.html&usg=__RdDUeN71GLHHjY_0g5fOqam-QwQ=&h=321&w=470&sz=57&hl=en&start=19&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=-1RjjAW83OlAjM:&tbnh=88&tbnw=129&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dpaparazzi%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

My freedom, my creativity...

I'm free,
my freedom, my creativity,
it's how I use it,
weak usage or strong.

My life,
my rules,
I hope I don't end up like one of those fools.

I could be a winner,
I could be a quitter,
I could taste sweet,
I could taste bitter.

My freedom,
my life,
my choice,
one life with one special thing,
my freedom.

PICTURE FROM THE NET- (http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://eternaltrooper.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/freedom.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.escapingthe9to5.com/entrepreneurial-tips/entrepreneurs-are-freedom-fighters/&h=399&w=600&sz=51&tbnid=QgAgjAPpr33PGM:&tbnh=90&tbnw=135&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dfreedom&usg=__IWutqRfSuuVmmfoKNSOu5s3_XmM=&ei=NqjmS5y_KcyOkQWXuIHEBg&sa=X&oi=image_result&resnum=4&ct=image&ved=0CDsQ9QEwAw )

Maddening illusion...

What do I see?
Things in front of me?;
Or not?
Do we know the hard work a person puts in to get that number one spot?
Something dismissed so easily,
this world is an image topsy turvy,
an image overpowering,
it's an illusion,
it's a dream,
a dream painted by the queen,
the queen, the controller,
we are just her followers.

This world is something we don't know or haven't discovered,
a threesome between us, the illusion and controller.

What do we know about that fake smile?
Do we know the real story behind those eyes?
The truth hidden deep between those lies.

As the world survives,
survives for many lives for some,
the queen, the controller has done what is to be done,
for the better or for the worse,
do we know how hard that mother works for her child to be nursed?
Do we know the reason for that fear,
why is that person so queer?
Do we know the real reason for the loss of hope?
Why does that person do dope?
Am I really writing from the soul?;
Or not?

The world, the queen, the painting and the illusion,
this maddening illusion.

Picture from the net- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.dreamstime.com/abstract-art-female-faces-thumb2892447.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photography-abstract-art-female-faces-image2892447&usg=__u0C3UidpWLf0uZy4VIwSZP5zWnI=&h=300&w=300&sz=44&hl=en&start=8&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=l6CTiOehanWI_M:&tbnh=116&tbnw=116&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dabstract%2Bart%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DG%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

The battle of the wind.

Wind, fierce wind,
the wind found it's place,
the place it wants to settle in.

Fierce, fierce with rage,
the wind wants to fight a battle,
here it approaches us,
approaches us with it's golden carriage.

It wants to fight a battle,
a battle with no cause,
it will fight well and not surrender,
it will go against the laws.

The winds become a demon,
the winds become a monster,
the winds make the strongest man feeble,
the wind with the sea,
the wind impresses her.

Destruction at it's best,
the wind just can't rest,
it's these years of repression,
the wind was oppressed.

Hit the corners of the earth,
there were people who doubted it's worth.

After it fought it's battle,
it realised it was too much,
all it did was destroy,
this gave it strange joy.

But now it's done,
it had it's fun,
that was destruction at it's best,
it could now rest

Picture from the net - ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.dreamstime.com/wind-storm-thumb93622.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-photography-wind-storm-image93622&usg=__m9q3Bwqk55BhEJK3AlOB_Qub0ME=&h=350&w=240&sz=40&hl=en&start=10&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=UdKuUI1VwTCy5M:&tbnh=120&tbnw=82&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dwind%2Bstorm%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

Saluting change...

Things change,
change too fast,
afterall how long can something last?

People come, people go,
change is always active,
don't you know>

I miss things but,
I'm the angel with wings,
wings that take me from one moment to another,
wings that made me choose my mother.

Change is constant,
change is passive,
change is wanted,
it can take you from one emotion to the other emotion massive.

Change is like one train,
a train which stops for a while at one station,
change deserves my salutation.

Picture from the net- ( http://www.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://stevecreek.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/cocoon.jpg&imgrefurl=http://stevecreek.com/birth-of-a-monarch-butterfly/&usg=__DYoS2oR_gPjhp7fA08WndKDqf_s=&h=1013&w=800&sz=592&hl=en&start=5&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=arD83wQQ6Ph7hM:&tbnh=150&tbnw=118&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dbutterfly%2Bout%2Bof%2Bcocoon%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-GB:official%26tbs%3Disch:1 )

Places of melancholy...

This place is struck with war,
the barrel is too small for the amount of sadness to pour.
Fratricide, suicide, matricide, mass genocide,
this we cannot hide.

War ruined this place,
no more pretty is it's face.

It's an internal war were all fighting,
we knew the enemy was biting,

We need peace,
we need peace please!
We should be done with fighting with ourselves,
it's each other we need to help.

Converted into mud...

Gone, broken,
dead,
won't be woken.
Stones, rubble, dust,
The house had gone down with the rust.

Commercialisation increased,
it just had to go,
increased industrialisation as you know.

As the memories go down with the mud,
now it's a rotting flower,
long ago, it was a bud.

Now the doors will never open,
the house is broken,
the resting spirits have woken.

The beauty is gone,
that incredible lawn,
the pond,
the beauty of dawn.

Now it's just a memory,
a memory with me,
it's amazing how we get attached to physical things
but now it was time,
this house had to take the wings.

Picture from the net- (http://lauraknowles.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/old_house.jpg )

The coloured obsession...

I was dark, very, very, very dark. My life was so sad, so empty and immensely lonely. I didn't get a good job, I wanted to be a model, a super model. But that bloody chocolate colored skin of mine, just didn't let that happen. No one wanted be my friend, I never got a decent date, I was pretty, very pretty under that dark skin of mine and yes I must admit I was ashamed of myself...
But then, but then, but then yahoo!!!!!
One beautiful fairness cream called 'Stereotyped beauty' helped me. I became fair, fair as cotton. Everyone wanted to be my friend, I hooked up with a sexy hunk and I was irresistible, simply irresistible,
see how one god damn fairness cream changed my life...

This is to you, my beautiful Indian people, perfect stereotypers, you people can stereotype everything from bad people to good people, religion, even skin colour.
This is usually how an advertisement for a fairness cream is. As if one cream can change our life, wow!

I've heard the sentence 'I want to be fairer' so many times. So many times that I don't know what to say anymore. 'Typical Indian obsession, maybe Asian obsession'.


Matrimonial section-
My name is Malingam Singh Banerjee, my second middle name is closed minded.
I am handsome, fair, my height is 183 cms, I work in the USA ( why should I reveal what I do, I could be a pimp but I work in the USA. Isn't that enough to get myself a bride?), I am 38 years old and I'm looking for a beautiful girl who's fair and from a good family ( by that I mean rich).

This is what a typical matrimonial section is like, the word 'fair' is always mentioned,
This big obsession of ours is everywhere.

Now I'm not going to say that's wrong, we shouldn't be so obsessed, etc.Cause it sure is and I don't need to mention that.

I'm on the darker side and i love it. That's one thing I don't want to change. Fair, dark, that doesn't matter to me.

Fairness creams do very well in India. I have seen so many typical mindsets talk about fair skin. Fair skin like it's some boon. It's actually sick and in a way telling you that they are small minded.

It's important that ones comfortable with oneself, a very big ability.
It's high time we shift focus. Stop stereotyping things.
To the people who are colour obsessed I'd like to say two things-
'Beauty', it's just very complicated and fair skin or for that matter even that sexy tan won't necessarily make you more beautiful or visually stimulating, feel good from inside' like yourself, know yourself cause in life you are this person with yourself forever and the next thing,
Halt obsessing, halt stereotyping...

Under the shield of modesty....

She's under that veil,
her skin forgot the sun,
her skin's so pale.

Watching the world through a net,
she wants freedom,
with sadness her eyes are wet.

She lives in the Taliban dominated society,
she hates the Burqa or Hijab,
under it she's so pretty,
she goes through phases of self pity.

The dusty place,
her hidden face.
A place so beautiful,
slowly getting ruined by the Taliban's,
with male dominance, her patience is over and done.

She wants her life to change,
she wants to stop the pain,
she wants to get out of the Burqa and veil,
she wants to show the world her vain.

She's sick of being one of his wives,
in the big ocean of freedom she wants to dive.

She reads the Koran,
she recites the Namaz five times a day,
she wants Allah to help her,
she's tired of the domination and manipulation,
she wants freedom to come her way.

She's a beauty,
poor thing's looked at with pity.
What did she do wrong?
Was she cursed the minute she was born?

Her deprived daughters,
her sons with their father.
She wants to stop the pain,
she wants the true culture of her country to come out,
baby, she wants her life to change.

Alive, physically...

Bodies, just plain bodies,
only flesh and bones,
Just a body, lone,
bodies, broken and worn.

No feelings,
no required emotional healing.
no persona,
been more than bodies,
never,

Corpses alive,
rotting,
can't rot gracefully like wine.

Bodies,
shot with an invisible gun.
Never were anybody,
unable to be distinguished,
with numbness they've been kissed.
Dead, dead since birth,
they don't know how to look at the beauty of the earth.

Abuses hurled,
cursed, sad,
lonely in this world,
those boys and girls,
They're just bodies,
no one cares for them,
nobody...