Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Last Cigarette


As the last cigarette
Burns itself down my throat
Leaving behind burning eyes
Filled with smoke
And as the late night movie
Takes its final bow…
I hold my breath within
Afraid of losing the fragrance
Of burnt skin.

I pick up my pen
Out of the obsessive compulsion
To describe what stirs inside
Just to grasp…
The longing to write the last lines about you
Yet she refuses to be ignored
And the last cigarette
Refuses to be burnt out
And I wait…

Smoke fills the room
Blurring my vision
Or, maybe, I have closed my eyes.
Certainty, is the cost
Of my last cigarette
It’s a pain to let go
Yet I know,
That you would kill.
As I refuse to put out…the last cigarette

I know I will return to you.
Holding fire is a pleasure
You can’t let go of.
But it’s not with pleasure
That my soul’s your slave
It’s not by choice but by a ‘un-understood’ force
That I bow…
To what I hope, dearly
To be my last cigarette.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Blood Soaked Mirage


They burned the tree
That owned my soul.
Using the womb as a weapon
To suffocate the desire…of survival.

They took me to the gallows
And death smiled
All I could do was smile back
The fear of light…as I walked out of darkness

They felled the mighty oak
The shadow
Of what once was might.
But, remorse was not what they felt

They killed.
For the guilty pleasure
Of the taste of blood
Killed…out of fear of me

Annihilation is what they want for me
Order of death is proclaimed…
Yet they cannot kill what is me…
For I am not a man…just an apparition

So they burned the tree
That owned my soul
And when, enough men have died
Maybe, we will be free


....EXPRESSING SOLIDARITY WITH MY FRIENDS IN MUMBAI AND TELLING THOSE WHO FEEL THEY CAN SHOCK US INTO SUBMISSION...WE ARE AND WILL ALWAYS BE INDIANS.
MAY THE SOULS OF THE DECEASED REST IN PEACE

Monday, November 17, 2008

Wanting Her


Love was not just a game I played
To buy shelter
To walk alone or to follow her
Without question and thought of surrender.
But, she was broken
Long before the sky broke for her…

Treacherous were the alleys
Wondrous was the pain
To hold on…
Like the condemned man’s faith in God.
To build on a broken faith…
Long before faith was ever discovered

Yet, I wanted to follow
To feel her lustrous body
With the ecstasy of my mind
To lift her spirit
Higher than the wind swells.
But she was broken…
Long before the sky broke for her.

Wanting to find the destination
Of the departing night
To look for the symmetry
Of two bodies in unison.
Take away the desire from my being…
Yet, I wanted to follow.
But she was broken…
Long before the sky broke for her.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Faith Lost


Integrity lost.
In the lingering moment,
Spent on your naked eyes.
Faith lost.
In the eternity spent,
In fighting…

The death sentence,
A frivolous exercise in power
Faith lost.
In the words
Of a stranger…
Of was-a-lover.

The nauseating dive
In the last attempt to hide my face in your thighs
Yet thrown away. Questioned.
Faith lost.
In life…In moments…
In what was once the time…when rain fell.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Lust for Eternity


We, of the golden sunsets
Are no longer the same…
The smell of rain
Hidden away in your warm breasts
Lost forever to the glittering skyline
In the dreamy silence of windswept rooftops

I have desired you, luscious one
Warmth and pain.
The distant night bathed in loneliness,
The tentative soul afraid of losing control.
A few eternities in a few handpicked moments
Is all I have left of you…
But I am greedy for a few eternities more.

I have missed you…
You, of the crystal sunsets
You of the enigmatic eyes…
And I have made you the Queen
So let’s dance…
To the rhythm of our nude embrace
And make eternity ours.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Embrace


The pilgrimage of the blind alley
Where the dreamy poet
Coughs up blood
On the wall of some nondescript whorehouse
Wishing he was left in peace
To be in harmony with the beautiful madness of creation

Bathed in the crimson waters
Holding moonbeams in his hands
He looked up to the lucid chaos of his epiphany
Wishing he could share it with the immense night
Which she shared with him…in his arms
From where she had succeeded in escaping

She slept peacefully…Assured he held her close
In the utopian haven of his embrace
She slept in peace…
She slept forever…

His soul was not satisfied
That he had lost her
He still held her close…feeling her presence linger on…
In the safe haven of his embrace
Blaming himself for suffocating her…when he held too tightly
In the peaceful oasis of his heart, protected by his restless madness
He dreamt…

Monday, September 29, 2008

Rain Messenger's Diary 7...God & I

“ Bhagawan, Nomo Koro…”(that’s God bow to him)…these three words said with a tinge of righteous indulgence by numerous relatives are my first memories of this omnipotent and omnipresent being. The numerous idols and various shapes in which “Bhagawan” came was a real fascination for me but my first tiff with him started when at the age of 5-6 I started to wonder what exactly had he done to deserve my respect…and with the innocence and doggedness of a child who is convinced that he has stumbled upon the most important and hitherto overlooked question of the universe…I started to question my relatives “Bhagawan ke nomo keno korbo?” (why should I fold my hands and bow in front of God?)

A lot of rolled eyes and obvious rhetorics like “because you are supposed to…(as if that was an answer to my why)…” later I got one answer which I approved of, “ because God taught us the difference between right and wrong, good and evil, light and darkness.” God, as a teacher was an idea which appealed to my six year old senses and justified the respect showered on him.

But, God turned out to be quite a strict teacher with a penchant for doing just the things he is not supposed to do like punishing kids who did not talk in class and therefore, I soon began to grudge his presence.

His adamant omniscience and omnipresence and his fascist dictatorial and blatant refusal, to let his students pass and go to the next class and consequently a new teacher, absolutely ticked me off. I revolted with all the 7-8 year old fury I could muster.

But, after all He was the teacher and I, a mere humble student, afraid, hesitant and full of guilt of doing the “wrong” thing. He did not help. He did not choose to show me anything that could win my faith. The reasons present accepted and known for evoking faith started appearing hollow, with people asking me to bow to a great ball of fire (the sun), that really was the last straw!! After all, I had my back to consider and it was not possible to bow so many times without doing some kind of damage to it and when I knew that the great ball of fire was neither benign nor benevolent and it was a mere chance that he bestowed us with light, and any closer to his divine self, all prayers notwithstanding, he would burn us to cinders, which anyways is our final fate.

I decided it was something I had to find out for myself, questions that I had to ask myself, answer myself and even correct them myself ( if only exams were like that…). The Herculean task turned out to be much more testing than any examination I had been asked to sit for. It was a journey taken to question things that appeared so obvious that nobody seemed interested in even sparing a thought to it.

In the course of this tryst with God my question started to change from “why God?” to “How can people be so blind?” I could understand the Neolithic man’s fear of the elements and hence their primaeval Gods but how could we in the 21st century still hold on to a concept that was so obviously baseless…our behaviour with all our knowledge was as primordial as that of the Neolithic man. The other thing that really shocked me was that the fear and fundamentalism on this issue was so deep-seated, so deeply ingrained into our system, that most of the times we do not even realise that almost all of our actions and words could be attributed to it.

As one of my friends once said when I asked her, why she wore a burqa to school in today’s world, when she is being educated, a student of science and the future of the emancipated woman, she simply replied, “it’s what we are supposed to do…” the ambiguous do’s and don’ts which we so “religiously” follow never really strike us and no one bothers to stop and scrap the useless junk. Another of my friends one day vehemently tried to convince me, why it was so necessary to be religionistic and why he could not be touched by me after I had non-vegetarian food.

I was shocked or rather so tempted to laugh at this entire debacle of the Super-Being that I kept quiet. God, shed all his halos for me that day.

Since, ages from Brahmins to priests God has just been a tool of the biggest con game of the history of mankind-RELIGION.

I denounced God, not because he did not exist but for the hypocrisy of men who forced him to exist. I would have bowed to Christ, the man but I simply refuse to believe in Christ who turns water to wine. I would pray to Mother Teresa but I hate the church that looks for “miracles” to award her Sainthood. I refuse to bow to the chauvinistic Ramakrishna who makes his wife walk back 100kms (as no other conveyance was available at that time) just because he feels that she has started her journey at an inauspicious time.

God & I go back a long way, we rarely agree, often fight and almost always avoid each other. When, it comes to me, God turns deaf and blind, and what can I say for people who still believe in “HIM”………..GROW UP.