Monday, April 30, 2012


Pain. Trust. Rust. Scream. Dream. Dissolve. Evolve. I am used to it. I like it. It does not seem like work. Without pain. I do not feel love. If there is no pain. Pain. It work. It is just exhaustion. That is all I need. To be drained. Physically. In love. It is more complicated. Without pain. There is no love. Without betrayal there is no love. Sweet Poison. I have become used to it. It is. Addicting. The Ache. The Pain. It is all so sweet. I will gain skills. I will learn. That is what I do. But this. This is different. This. Pain. Trust. Dream. Evolve. Grow. I may change. And I hope I do. This addiction. Is sweet. But. It is dangerous. I feel the pleasure. Because I have closure. But what about the other.

Sunday, April 29, 2012


Fear. A reminder. Of our weakness. Our inability to cope. Fear. A truth. Undeniable. It sits there. In the heart. On a deep rooted seat. It is natural. It is humane. It defines us. It is a part of us. The uniqueness that we possess. Fear is part of it. People hide it. They think they have hid it. It is dangerous. It is a false sense of security. Remember your fear. It gives you strength. She hid her fear. Or so she thought. It could be sensed. It could be felt. It is not what we think it is. It cannot be known. Unless. It stands in front of us. It cannot be faced. But it must be faced. Fear. It is with us. As long as we are.


Balkanize. A new word I learned. Its old. Now that I think of it. I think it came around the time of the Cold War. Or the Second World War. Not the point really. A political term. Used to describe the forced creation of Geo-Political divide between a race of people, or people in a region for that matter. I should a professor in some university. That aside. Balkanize. I read it like Galvanize. They have the same feel. Power. Flows through them. Divide. Protect. Balkanize. Galvanize. Are there more words like these?

Saturday, April 28, 2012


Pain is what you cannot control,
All that I see is death untold, uncontrolled,
The heathen lords of a time forlorn,
Standby and watch, as fates unfolds,

The many turns and twists it takes,
This road is of a weak make,
The people here and their smiles,
They are all just simply fake,

Pain is what you cannot control,
All that I see is death untold, uncontrolled,
The heathen lords of a time forlorn,
Standby and watch, as fates unfolds,

Walking strolling down the lane,
What you feel is simply pain,
The path is worn with nothing to gain,
You lead your life as if a bane,

Pain is what you cannot control,
All that I see is death untold, uncontrolled,
The heathen lords of a time forlorn,
Standby and watch, as fates unfolds,

This world is worn out and old,
The people here are just too cold,
The end will come as foretold,
And their souls will pass un-condoled...

Friday, April 27, 2012


They consume us. Then they move on. The ones outside. However. Are weak. They cannot hurt us. Unless. We let them. The ones within. They are strong. They too. However. Cannot hurt us. Unless we let them. Now I know why demons are hated. Demons are not to blame. Parasites are. Demons do nothing. Unless provoked. The parasites. On the other hand. Infest Ingest. And leave to rot. I need to get rid of some of these parasites.

Thursday, April 26, 2012


Unwinding. Relaxing. It all seems to be working out. It appears that all of this is working out. But. No. Cannot relax. There are still chores to be done. The action is not yet done. Before the strike. It appears to relax. The coils. They appear to be undone. They are not. It is the false sense of security. Before the impending move. It will happen. For that. Before that. Cannot relax. Cannot rest. Must move quickly. Must move in a definitive manner. Definitive. It appears concrete. It hides a gap. A gaping hole. A chasm. I will succeed. I must.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012


I am obsessed with it. It is not an illusion. Nor is it an assumption. I am obsessed with it. Fire. The all consumer. The everlasting. Fire. People say it dies. It does not die. It goes away. That is all. It is not driven by hunger. But by purpose. It is not uncontrolled. It is control. Like Love. Unlike memories. It does not fade away. That is fire. A truth. Undeniable. Unshakable. I am amazed there isn't a god of fire. Even the baddest of smokes looks good. It feels good. At least while the fire lasts. It is only afterwards. After the fire is gone. That you realize. It was a waste.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012


Everything has an essence. The essence. It is the key. Reading it. Learning it. On the path of darkness. You manipulate it. That is the darkness. To twist and turn the essence. But that is not the objective here. Essence. It must be preserved. But is that demons want. The essence. It can be used to overwhelm us. It is used to overwhelm. Many people deflect. Some reflect. Other fight. Head on. All are right. It is all about survival. About preserving. Your own essence. She had a unique one. Unlike any I had seen. Or maybe I had not seen many. I am a quick learner. That much I know. But I slumber. That is how I protect my essence. I hide it. Deep within me. In darkness. But now is not the time to hide it. Hiding. Will vanquish it. It will be overwhelmed. Her essence. Something that must be forgotten. For now. But then again. It was beautiful. That is what I loved. Me. That is what must be saved now.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Sunday, April 22, 2012


Something that I need desperately. I have not taken an off day for three weeks. Today too, after class I hit office. I need to generate a gap. My talismans. They help. But would it be prudent. To take them. No. It would not be prudent. Foolish to say the least. Class and then office it is. My thoughts feel focused. But they are not. Another illusion among so many. I should have become a demon that time too. She would not have left then. If only. Whats done is done. Not again. Not here. Not now.

PS: the generous people gave me a sunday off ...


I might appear obsessed. But. The truth is I am not. I just see them. They are everywhere. My demons. They are me. They also sleep. In a deep deep slumber. Like me. One woke up. And I tried. To sign a pact. He refused. Outright. He made a counter offer. A partnership. So he said. He will help me evolve. In turn. I feed him. Feed him. Its simple really. I eat. I grow. He is fed. That is all. In turn. I grow stronger. Stronger. Something that is tempting. But. Now, it is dangerous. I will be run over. Cannot eat defiantly. That is why he is a demon. The deals are never simple. The cost is high. If I lose. If. I lose. If I do not. I evolve. I grow. Greed. Hunger. Cunning. Ego. Impulse. Time to grow. To evolve. Into something new. Something better. But I need the others too. These alone will not be enough. He should have brought others with him. Irtiqa. He called at his time.

Thursday, April 19, 2012


I do not want wealth. I do not want fame. They only bring discomfort. And vice. They only bring you into the eyes of the people. Nothing Else. They leave you barren. People think money is power. They are wrong. Rich people hide. They fear. Even their own shadows. Scare them. Fame. They are not theirs. They live for the world. Wealth. And. Fame. They take peace. That is their opportunity cost. Peace. Love brings Peace. No Peace. No love. No love. No Peace. Its a simple equation really. I make mistakes. Not many. But I do. And when I do, they are grave. They are bigger. A cost. A simple one. Easily avoidable. But not so. A mistake is a mistake. I am careful. I am strong. My demons make me stronger. But I am nothing. Now. Peace. That is all I desire. At the moment. A clear head. My head was clear. At least it looked like it. Calm like the sea before the storm. But the storm always raged beneath the surface. Now. It rages on the surface. And nothing is still. The world is in flux. But I am not. It is too fast. I cannot go fast. I will tread over aspects. Things. People. I must be careful. I can be hit too. I am not immortal. We used to be though. Now we only suffer longer.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Shattered Heart

The shattered heart, the broken dreams,
The world is dead as it seems,
Every where a shade of gray,
All I hear is just hearsay,

The shattered heart, I do not care,
The cracked mask causes despair,
My talismans they are not here,
Weak and pitiful I do appear,

The cracked mask, the weakened will,
Surviving this will take some skill,
My words they fail, they are so frail,
My soul it seems has been impaled...


I want to let them run free. My demons. They tempt me. With freedom. And they will get me. Freedom. The one thing that I want. But. I will not be able to control them. They. Once free, cannot be bound. They are rash. Reckless. Destructive. They do not care about the after effects. The reactions. They do not care about. Relations. They do not care about. Worldly customs. They do not care about. I am indecisive. I cannot choose. What to do. Do I let them out. Or not. Out. They free me. But they are demons. To them what gives must stay. What takes must go. Conflict. That is what is happening me. I hate it. On the other. I cannot afford to hate it. I am conflicted. I am being broken. What little of me I had gathered. I is being broken. Not by power. Of strength. But by simple presence. The essence of being. That is enough to break me. I was never this weak. Maybe. But just. Maybe. What does not kill me, will only make me stronger. What should I do. That is the question.

Monday, April 16, 2012


They caught up with me. I thought I had left them. Out ran them. But I was wrong. I didn't do anything. They just let me be for a while. The freedom I felt for a while. Theirs. The strength I felt in me. Theirs. My thoughts for a while. Theirs. My words of expression. Theirs. My life. It seems. Is theirs. They are my demons. They are stronger than me. My demons. They are more cunning than I am. My demons. They can outwit me. My demons. They are back. They haunt me. They used to haunt me. I thought it was divine intervention. A remainder of the important tasks. It was after they left me that I realized. They were demons. They haunted me. Now I realized. They let me be. Like cruel hunters do with their game. Like monsters do with their prey. They let me rejuvenate. Regrow. So later they can have more fun. They no longer give me subtle dreams. They now jolt me. They shock me. They scare me. I know they are there. I can't hurt them. I can't touch them. They want me to join them. I can't. I am not that strong. Joining them makes me stronger. I just can't. Something holds me back. I join them I become unstoppable. More importantly. They will stop scaring me. They will leave me in peace. But I can't join them. I am incapable of doing that. They coaxed me into this. This job. This work. My purpose is there. My destiny is there. They. The demons. They too are there. I want to join them. Be them. Be at peace. That is all I want. Peace.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Faana o Khudi

Sufism. I had not heard about it. Or read about it. In a long time. This reminded me. Love. It is indomitable. Insatiable. Infinite. Unquenchable. Faana. A concept in Sufism. Khudi. Another idea. Both. I have read about. Looked into. They appear unreal. impracticable. Khudi is self. Faana is beyond the end. Faana. Khudi. Their idea is simple. The Self. It must sit on a high throne. Yet. It must end. As if, it never was there. The end. As if it never was. A surreal concept. An impracticable concept. Then there was Mansoor. The Al-Haaj. The one who cried, "I am truth". A blasphemous thing to say. The least.  There are demons and binds along the path to this annihilation. To stop us. They please us. They promise us. Peace. Salvation. Belonging. But they all lie. Majnoon. The true lover. If you have not loved like him. You have not loved at all. Was betrayed by these. Mansoor. He passed them. Majnoon was not wrong. Mansoor was righter still. I. I want to be free. Break these binds. Travel the path of Majnoon. And beyond. To Mansoor. Or further still. Many scholars say the path of Majnoon is the path of Mansoor. Mansoor just walked further. Forget the facts. They are lies. Crafted. Drafted. The lore. The myths. They come from the hearts. They are the truth. I want to be free. Of these Bind. Of these masks. To be in love. Love. True love.

Friday, April 13, 2012


Everything has a purpose. Even the selfless acts that we do. They have it too. Purpose. That is what defines the universe. Selfishness. The epicenter of this purposefulness. A person driven by purpose is selfish. Only a selfish person can be driven by purpose. The universe is essentially selfish. A baby is born. The parents are happy. Not out of selflessness. But out of selfishness. Something they made came into this world. Their lineage continues. A person dies. There are people. Sad people. Weeping. Sobbing. Even wailing. Selfish. They all are. They cry. Not for the dead. But for themselves. They know they have lost something. A lover cries. They have lost something to love. Not for the lover. But for their own loss. People get killed. A random act of terror. Nothing is random. Still. People cry. Their tears. Their own. Loss of something. That is what makes them cry. Humanity. It is selfishness disguised. Then again. I may be wrong. I have a way. Of twisting the words. So. This time too. I may have twisted them. Either way. We are selfish. It defines us.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Haiku XVI

Dressed in a dark attire,
I will set the world on fire,
You vampire of desire.

Monday, April 9, 2012


My eyes burn. That feeling. Its back. Now its different. Because, I know why its here. The cause. The reason. The catalyst. I know what it is. It was not an epiphany. I was just more observant this time. People think I am a liar. Some others think I simply cannot lie. There are people who do not question me. Then there are those who do nothing but question me. The healthy middle. I cut my ties with it. Not long ago. It wasn't that difficult. It was just a person's width wide. An image. In a way. Not a perfect image. But it did reflect me. Betrayal. Ego. Self-Preservation. Reactivity. I don't know which one was it. Maybe a little bit of them all. Maybe all of them in their lustrous sheen. The reason. Why I cut off the reflection. I do not look for reflections. I may have grown. I may have evolved. Something different altogether. I should. Shatter the mirror. End the image. I left that task in the hands of a game. A game. Something that amuses you. Something that you play with. The image played with it too. It left scars. It was a beautiful game. Filled with allure and complexity. Now its just that. A game. I cannot shatter it. The image. I would break myself. But If you break the image. I would not shatter. Or I could. No. The game is too fragile. And I cannot scar it more.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

One minute at a time

"But you are mesmerized. You are going to die. This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time." I read this somewhere. Where. I do not remember exactly. It was a beautiful place I tell you. Believe me you. Or not. Not would be a better option. You really don't have much reason to do that either. Its more prudent that way. I will come back to this in a minute. A quick review of the day. Banged my bike into a army truck on my way to work. The officer asked me if I was okay. I said yea. He says good, now scram. The day was somber. Biryani at lunch. Friday is always biryani day. Had dinner with colleagues. Friend called. I said scram. Rudely. Aggressively. I'll make up to it. I always do. I am losing my touch. It takes me longer to tap into people. To read them. But I am mesmerized. By what. By her beauty. By its beauty. There is not her. Nor an it. There is no time for either. Then what mesmerizes me. I wish I knew. I am going to die. Not now. We don't die early. We live longer than the average person. That is our curse. Life. It is ending. And one minute at a time. Every minute. I am mesmerized. By what. I want to know.

Friday, April 6, 2012


That is how old I am today. I mean yesterday. 5th April. It was fun. The day. Friends wished me. It was fun. People in the office tried to coax me into giving a treat. I avoided it all. A few friends wished me in some clever ways. Boss, the CFO took me to lunch. Me psychoanalyzed. Me. It was flattering. And insulting. But the office is no place to get insulted. Especially at this stage. Flattered I am. It was a good year. Had fun. Few regrets. Two to be precise. No use remembering them. Improvement. That is the focus now. Not too many thoughts. Just want to sleep. Soak it all in. Refresh the mind. Must come up with new excuses. New scenarios must be run for tomorrow. Damn firecrackers. They are noisy. All the best for the rest of the days ahead!

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Two Decades

Its been almost 2 decades. Slightly over them. There are certain habits I would love to reacquire. Other habits I would love to leave. Seems I have been able to do either in all this time. The ones that left me. Left for good. The ones that I have. Seem to be here for good. But that cannot be. The habits must change. With time. They must. That is what evolution is. That is what change is. So much time has passed. So much has changed. That is life. I guess.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012


The idea has fascinated me for quite a while. My thoughts are no longer a chaos. Chaos gives way to order. Order will then one day give way to chaos. That is the state of human mind. But image for a minute being able to control it. That would be a god like ability. The ability to control yourself. To master the universe, one must master oneself. I read that somewhere. I think that is what apotheosis is. The thought. The idea. I can't control. What I would give now just to have, even the illusion of that control. I had that illusion once. It was strong too. I thought it was real. Despite making it up. I remember a couple of years ago. At a friends place. On the roof top. A friend asked me. "tmhari manzil kahan hai?" Teenagers have such limited thoughts. Good Grades. Girls. Social Life. My ego never permitted simple answers at that time. "Jahan dekhoon yahan Ka'aba, jidhar rukoon who manzil" I know it was an illusion. That control. But now I want it. It is there. I just need to find it. I didn't lose it. I just forgot where I put it.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

The Mask

A Mask. A pale one I think. A very boring one at that. That is what I think it is. I cannot see. You can see. I cannot. Then there are masks I can see and you cannot. It is a cruel irony. Of fate, I think. You are the only one who cannot see, while the world watches on. But then again there have been people who have seen it. Hell, they have known it better than the world that saw it. But then again, those were not ordinary people. A mask. A perky one I think. A mask. A joyous one I think. A Mask. I dammed one I think. A mask. One for society to see. One for the family. One for my friends. Another for someone else I think. That is how I see me. A collection of faces. Each replaceable. Each changeable. A different one for a different time. Only a few people will see through. And even they cannot see through it. They guess, they infer. They employ a simple mathematical formula. Intersection. The qualities that are common to very face, they infer, belong to the real face. I know the ones that I have. It is a wonderful thing. Ironic too. You cannot share it with the world. They world will think then. This beats their purpose. All they see are masks. Different masks. Colored. Designed.For the purpose.