The Bitch of the Mist.

There's this woman we all have been acquainted with, seductress if I may call her. She can seduce anyone whether you're a male, a female, them in between, animal and any mortal. She'll seduce you and lead you to her deceiving chambers and take you to the great valley where life unites. But, when you're in this great valley she'll leave you all alone to fight the best warriors in the game. She'll look into your eyes, twitch you into the midst of the valley , sways her hips,bursts into laughter and twirls herself into the mist. The mist is her nook and cranny and the mist is your undesired nook and cranny too. Ain't she a bitch?

I wouldn't say what she's done is very fair. After all she was the one who induced big dreams in your mortal body. She did promise to pave your path to your desires and now she's left you alone to fight for yourself. That's just not fair. It wasn't your fault. All you did was come home to a very mundane life slightly tipsy and there she was sitting on your sofa which was falling apart, within your house that needed repairs and she teemed you with optimism. She convinced you that you need a dream and you need to follow that dream. She told you that you needed a better life and you were so lured by her that you actually listened to her. So you left your life that was falling apart and entered a very hazardous valley where life unites and right now, at this very moment you have to fight the best warriors. She's gone, you're lucid, the sun is harsh, the wounds borne by you are going to be harsh, the wrath that's going to be exerted on you is going to be much more than you deserve, your dreams in your knapsack which anyone could usurp any moment from now and she's already swaying to the rhythm of the mist. The choice is yours- will you run back to a life that was falling apart or do you choose to fight and keep that dream safe in your knapsack ? For once you win this battle that dream shall itself emerge from your knapsack and you shall be embraced by that life that your wanted. Although that life will never be exactly what you wanted.

If you choose to fight than I assure you that you're going to fall, you're going to bleed, you're going to be bruised. But if you have the strength to fight then you'll survive. For most of the time even that battle is a tiny hurdle in this phenomenon called life. But you realize how diminished it really is only once you've fought. But beware because the bitch of the mist is omnipresent and before you know it you're all alone in another battle and she's walked away to her nook and cranny, within your nook and cranny, the cryptic mist...

Inelegantly wasted

I thought I was going to be free, even a month back. Never did I think I would be back to the same bullshit. I thought I was going to go ahead with life and I'm still praying I will. These three weeks have being extremely stressful and at the end came a state of indifference where I couldn't care less. It's like I enjoy being a part of the screwed breed and grooving to mediocrity, or perhaps even less.

All I want is an elevator to elevate me to better days in my life. I fell stuck in this dark and scary monochrome. It's almost claustrophobic. I have no idea where I'm gonna land up but where ever it'll be, I know it wont be very blissful but I'll survive.

The question still remains. When these pieces of me go crashing into this viscous sea of life, will the waves of fortune integrate me and elevate me to the 'good life' or will I have to do that myself? Does the good life exist or do we make do with this deception we thing is satisfactory?


Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son ?
And where have you been my darling young one ?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

Haze...

Rise from the tempest,
Disintregate to the stars,
The Emerging sublime beauty,
Wine from a complecent mortal,
The acceptance of holy gifts,
Created a drift between man and the creator,
When they fathomed the meaning of its virtue,
They realised the best gift was the hearth...

Picture from the net- ( people.rit.edu )

Memory lane...

Like clockwork fear never failed to chase us through this eccentric path,
And today when I look back at my pergola of memories,
I realise there's nothing as good and bad as today...
I see induced hypocrites walking in vain,
I just proved the sceptics right,
But memory lane has twirled into the mist of rust,
Laughing at me,
Mocking me for what I've done and how little I gave,
Bruising me with the mallet of lost maturity,
Asking me to join its surreal ballet,
Pointing fingers at me while I fathom this bewildered array,
This dale of the future...

PICTURE FROM THE NET- photoshoptutorials.ws

Farewell...

Times have penetrated the uncertain night,
While I'm touched upon by the shadows of crimson fear,
To rip this mask and enter this womb of lust,
To ponder the lost fire of the heat...

Farewell my friend,
I see the afraid pallor on your face,
When you and I part ways for the jaunt to the sun,
While we're basked in unpredictability...

This alley for battle of the soul,
That lamp post illuminated for hope,
To fade in the mist of life,
To assimilate into our renaissance....

This wardrobe that contains our fragments of life,
To cloak of our union,
Irksome truth of disintegration,
To battle the storm of judgements...

Picture from the net- ( artgallery.com.ua)

Those golden and not so golden days...

Well we got no choice all the girls and boys
Makin' all that noise 'cause they found new toys
Well we can't salute ya can't find a flag if that don't suit ya that's a drag
School's out for summer school's out forever school's been blown to pieces!

This famous song by Alice Cooper was always my anthem when it came to school but now when I'm leaving it's going to be different.

That warmth I had there, the long bus ride into wilderness, bunking on the roof, friends, fights, arguments, teachers, exams, results, lectures, boring long assemblies, the fact that my uniforms were never neat enough, preparation for events and so many things. Damn, I'm leaving school! It's like the end of an era.
Yesterday was my informal farewell and I wore this amazing black and white dress. It was an amazing day full of frolic.

I've had quite a lit of fun in school and my tenth standard was the best. I have less than a month for school but I don't want to turn back. Even if times ahead may be scary and unpredictable I want to face it with a mind of frolic ( frolic's the reason I live baby!). So as one part of my life's over and my whole life is put in front of me I put memories of school in this casket of life...

Hunk of the night...

With the rustle of wind,
She seeks a feminine glance,
With locks that define his face,
With the arrival of the night the clocks seem to be too dazed to advance....

He sings his soulful melody,
Did he wait for the night?
Or did the night wait for him?
The hunk of delight...

The sprinkle of sugar on the snow,
A prospect of life to ponder,
A sweet savour for the bitter,
In all its dreams of wonder...

Pristine to its hearts content,
A reverie that doubts this holy land,
The dale of dreams of lost existence,
His melodies embraced him in the warmth for the cold he had to withstand...

To be rebound when lost,
Illusions of intoxication,
Beyond physical harmony,
These bells of creation...

I love Jim Morrison and I choose to dedicate this poem to him...

C'est la vie...

This chaos on the road,
Painted in grey,
Washed by her seductive eyes,
Only the strongest shall survive...

This shaped harlot,
To succumb to lust,
The lust in the wind,
For we're not as malicious for the nomenclature for him...

Lament for the momentry fade...

"Exam time!" was what my conscience said,
"Why are you still in a state of sloth in bed?"

The Ides of March have invited the fools of April,
They've invited me to show my irksome skill...

For the Red sea shall not part for me,
Only my pain shall set me free...

Sexy Mark Antony no more appealing to me ,
Who'll be shielded from madness with a head basked in caffeine?

So as Athena cursed Medusa,
Spattered ink leads me into a cursed era...

This is when Cleopatra's vain is masked,
This is when Helen's shoes are made of glass...

So as Cronus's castrated genitals could make Aphrodite,
Why can't my brains make a revolutionary delight?
( Which ain't the pioneering revolution.)

Why does Einstein's theory appear to be jaded?
( How could it be, my lord?)
Why do Morrison's sexy words appear to have faded?
(How could it be, oh how could it be?)

This circle of Willis,
Has become putrid...

Edison's madness seems too entered me,
But not with the same creativity.
( How can we make a grotesque imitation of a true genius?)

Why has Mr Gorky been kept in a corner?
Why is seductive Gregory Peck been referred to as a goner?

This is the first time Mr Newton is a nuisance,
Mr Cobain's angst is an anthem.

Mussolini's sadism has been given no thought,
To kill the soul with inner wrath...

These travesties of knowledge,
For fragments of frolic...

Dickens's great expectations,
Ain't like Van Gogh's insanity,
But sure ain't Picasso's dimensions...

Chanakya's brains,
They've been sieved...

For Ray Charles eyes couldn't be like B.B King's voice,
But wait, they're both prodigies...

To sympathize with the devil,
To be strange when you're a stranger,
For the sweet emotion,
In this hard days night,
Wishing you were here,
To be better than the real thing,
To face the face,
I don't want to be homeward bound,
Just like a woman,
Seduced by Elvis the Pelvis,
On the silent wings of freedom,
Because I was born to be wild,
Viva la Vida!

With the arrival of June,
I see the rush of my fortune...

For this madness never seems to end...

- My apologies on being juvenile.

Raptures...

The morn of every night,
Mourns for the intercept of time.
These raptures of an unpredictable path,
They compose the archives of a joyous heart...

We are ultimately lead to the circle of love,
From the greetings above.
A splash of stars,
Lays somewhere between the horizon and hearth...

Where will you accept?
The graceful acceptance of a fragment of defeat for which they wept.
Auxiliary melancholy of time,
The ambidexterity of emotions leading us from a hollow to light...

Picture from the net- ( aviartnutkins.com )

Beautiful stranger...

Beautiful stranger,
That touched my follies with a laugh,
This head got drunk with love,
The rise of a secret world,
Now broken into fragments...

For frolic is this minds lust,
The prodigies that differ,
Nugatory smiles that rouse suspicion,
Sways to a glance,
Builds a castle with dust...

आखे.

उसके आखो के प्यालो में,
थी एक कहानी,
थी मोहोबत,
जो गंदगी हो चुकी है।

एक दिल,
जिसमे था खून,
जिसमे था प्यार,
वह एक भूरे कब्रिस्थान में सड़ चुका है।

Vanity, No apologies...

The ladies in corsets,
Wearing a mask,
The Gentlemen with roses in their pockets,
With vain as fragile as glass...

Basked in accolades of their evening gowns,
Designed to known prejudices,
This emerging frown,
To suit masked repentance...

A silver chalice,
For glee to trickle down from a mysterious path,
For the glum that has become load until the final grave,
To ease the misdemeanors of inheritance from the hearth...

Bound by juvenile dreams,
Elevated to a scrumptious life,
This Royal creed,
To bliss the jive...

Symbiosis...

That dance of a star,
Was gibberish to some,
Mesmerizing to the others,
Garish to vain...


The mockery of the moon,
Touches the modest veil of the Earth,
Ushers in contempt,
Mockery that depends on misdemeanors...


Embraced by a silver nebula,
Little pockets of accolades,
For some to assimilate,
For the others who have lost the right to live...

Permafrost...

The fury of shadows,
Touched her rime encrusted stilettos,
Frozen tears on the base,
Circles of glum on her face.

Combustion of graphite,
Darkness was too hostile for the night,
Lucid and afraid,
Affection that was too hard to penetrate.

Comrades that stand to face the test,
Jaded zeal put to rest,
Lust which we had to thaw,
Frozen nickel that was never warm.

Drops of blood,
On white cold love,
Bear the momentary ice,
If you want the morrow to survive...

The wall...

Rise and fall,
To arise and wait,
I respect this walk,
For this contempt that left my virtues to break...

To expect and respect,
This awaited position,
Caresses rusted regrets,
I gave birth my salutation...

These bricks that bear my deep respects,
These fissures of consolation,
For even those bound by strength,
Haven't been bound by perfection...

Certainty is too placid for this journey,
Assumption for frolic,
To tackle the walk of dreams,
Or give lust a miss?

This barrier to light,
While we've begun to caress the dark,
For monotony has borne a certain splendorous to my eyes,
While I'm left to nurture myself behind the wall...

That's a still from the wall

The unrevealed...

Behold the future,
With an assimilated past,
Oh future, reveal yourself to me!

What I've got is the present,
With an unfathomed,
Oh future, reveal yourself to me!

Can't wait much longer for glee and the frolic,
Tried to prepare myself with a sharp dagger and strong armour,
Oh future, reveal yourself to me!

What if this cryptic deception isn't that bright,
With a crude mind and mangled body,
Oh future, reveal yourself to me!

A kiss planted on my fate,
A kiss I want to fathom,
Oh future, reveal yourself to me!

The perspective quotient

We're born dreaming. Whether big or small, our dreams belong to us and somewhere even though each one of us is such a dot our tiny dreams make a difference somewhere. We as humans have a very symbiotic relationship.
"You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot:
You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!
This simple but beautiful poem by William Brightly Rands is so true. Love is one of the best things yet it's so mundane.

There are so many things happening in the world, so may great, revolutionary, scary, grotesque, horrendous things happening. Why be stuck to the hearth?

Someday, I'd like to look beyond myself, beyond my possessions, beyond my lust and want to look at the world with a larger perspective because this sphere that I'm lucky to be existing on is so interesting. I want to see the larger picture because now from where I'm stand the picture is just too small. Haha, how lame can I be? I'm talking about wanting a larger perspective and I'm still writing about myself. These contradictions of life are so amusing.

Illusions of life...

The Devil had created a travesty of life,
Against a wrathful monochrome,
While she walked an unforgiving path,
Encircles in grey smoke,
Masked with strength,
Hoping to paint a vivid picture...

These delusional days,
Had borne solemn hope,
Then she faded into the song of life,
As hypnotic as could be,
Was later our creed...

Kudos to Mr Vincent Van Gogh

किस्मत.

अगर यह जवानी थी,
तोह कल क्या हुआ ?
यह है जो हमारे आगे बैठा है,
आने वाले कल की दुआ?

कहा गए वह क्व्हैशे?
इस आग से मत लड़,
कब पास थे यह दूर के रिश्ते?
पर सबसे ताकतवर होता है प्यार,
कभी ज़िन्दगी के गाढ़ी से मत लड़।