The Zombification

The winding snake path you follow,
leads neither to heaven nor to hell
but to something beyond the tangible.
Yet its not nearly invisible,
a translucent aura you might perceive
of this land adrift with
tufts of dreams and billowing desires,
The blue sea hung and dried on a board
for you to watch and discern.
A land of enchantment and
base deeds; human love and inhuman greed.

How do you welcome a stranger,
when you yourself are one ?
Even though you landed just a second ago,
for the ones that follow, you're a guide, maybe a target.
Rules are few; some are ancient, some are new
but what the window shows isn't an image,
a mirage maybe, you're never sure.
You haven't seen anything like this before,
A hot mist rises from the sun,
the clouds are in your head
not on the sky below.
Everything seems upside down,
but your eyes are open
your feet are on the wet ground
that shivers like a pool as
soon as you push forward.
You're walking on a mirror,
there are mirrors everywhere;
mirrors on the mountains,
mirrors on the sea,
mirrors in your mind.
Reality is elusive, flitting like a glow-worm
from here to there.

What proof can you give you exist !
No one can see you,
no one can hear your call.
Maybe your soul you've bared,
it gets pierced by the merciless wind.
A home away from home is what you wanted,
a quirk of fate is what you got.
You're breathing but your heart tells you something ain't right,
then you look at the creatures around you,
their eager faces upturned and aglow.
You know they're just sleepwalking,
stuck with Zombies in a land of paraded intellect,
You refuse every food for thought;
you either have none or
too much to deal with at once.

The wind has turned you into a sceptre of yourself,
you stand up, you try to run, you fall, you curse
those around you flash encouraging smiles.
Your sprint is amazing, it took every ounce of
energy suspended within your hollowed bones.
Still you somehow manage to hop upto them
and drop at their feet with a loud thud.
What do you do when there is no one to pick you up !
Your illusions of long ago lie shattered in pieces,
your dreams seem to belong to a distant eternity.
Your actions are so disconnected,
no one recognizes you anymore.
Your face isn't you, just another mirror
there, now you're a Zombie too.

The Cult Of The Faithless

Simply put, its you, its me
the Cult of the Faithless - we who live free.
maybe we're cynical
maybe we're nonsensical
maybe we're maniacal
maybe we're impractical
but simply put - we don't care !

I have faith in the Cult of the Faithless !!

We who know there's no one sitting above,
we who are bold enough to admit
that the world is so full of shit.

We who never stand up for anything,
because we know its not worth fighting for.
We who smirk at the religiously religious,
and laugh at them when they try to pray
with their empty hearts and hollow chants.

I have faith in the Cult of the Faithless !!

We never follow, only sit and comment.
We take the safest short-cut out
when surrounded with trouble.

We who live free and shamelessly
at times attempt to hide behind
curtains of excuses and complacency.

I have faith in the the cult of the Faithless
because I know we are always there
We are the gray within the black
and we are the astray followers of every pack.
We know we wont get too far,
but we carry within us a feeling of power

Simply put, its you, its me
the cult of the Faithless - those who live free,

The cult of the Faithless - the group that was never meant to be !

Its not about the escape

I wish I could die,
but something tells me
I just want more out of life.

After all its not about the escape
Its about the embrace.

Saying goodbye is a moment's task,
but will I be able to answer
all those unending questions
tormenting me !

Where is the escape ?

How do I go and embrace
a horror I know I wont be able to face.

I cannot simply stand
with arms wide open.

I may end up getting hurt
and then see my lost world
vanishing before my eyes
in a cloud of dust.
I will be left with only the scars
of wilful malice & mistrust.

I wish I could die,
but then something tells me
I just want more out of life.

After all its not about the escape
Its about the embrace.

Is it !

Hug My Soul

(One of the best things that ever came out of looking for my finance notes- found this poem I had scribbled in my class notebook)

My soul needs a hug,
its weeping, its bleeding.
I don't need you to ask questions,
Just creep upto me unnoticed
& let me feel your warm embrace.
Lie beside me for a while
& let my being be engulfed in the
depths of your solace.
Let my cold soul be warmed
by your sunny aura of love & compassion
but not merely that, also
of silent regard & nodding eyes.
Just transmit your faith,
your lively hopes, your dainty dreams
into my bleached soul,
into my parched unwhole.
Sense my urgency
& just lift me
in our soul-hugging union.
I'm searching for you
wildly and cravenly.
Take my grief away into your tranquil being
Come now, give my soul a big,long hug.

Confessions of A Rebel

(This piece is dedicated to one of the coolest people I know - my unofficial mentor at SIBM Pune - Protik Basu)

I know I'm not capable of it
but a part of me wants to kill.
Wants to hurt so badly a human life
that it begs and pleads me to let it go.
I've never used a weapon before,
It glints with an enticing sheen
inviting me to take its metallic coldness
and push my wrath through, to let it drain
the blood out of another.
Would it be really a killing, really a murder ??
What of those who kill me everyday
with their facades of frost
and spirits with malice wrought.
Kill me all at once
or let me be the killer
Yes, yes I confess
I'm a fucking rebel !

They will kill me anyway
so why not today !
How long the waiting,
How long the stifled breathing ?
Do I really have to wait ,
Do I not make a choice even in
the choice that I do not make.

The rebel in me isn't gonna let you be,
I'm searching for you,
though my nerve is failing & my arms flailing.
Do not go by the innocence,
the time is ripe for your penance.
The rebel in me is out for the kill,
heart, nerve and sinew madly thudding
with the unbearable thump of revenge.
I know not exactly what I have to avenge.
All I know is that I just gotta go
before I take the final blow .

The Vagabond of A Dream-world

Cloaked in velvety blackness,
her shadowy eyes glinting,
her aura of intended mystique
subdued by gossamer veils
slowly undone, spilling freely
her silhouette of overflowing power.

Behold the Vagabond of a dream-world,
lost in her own thoughtful trance !

The silken notes of her voice
billowing out through the softness
of her sensusous, sinewy lips
like worms oozing out of earthy dampness.

She leaves in her wake a purple haze,
the rustle of her shuffle
echoing in the dark maze.

The lilting melody of her tickling song,
bouncing off little rocks of lala land,
hinting at the writhing effort
of her drunkenly swaying tongue.

Behold the Vagabond of a dream-world !

She is a witch stirring the ether,
seeking her destiny beyond the confines
of worldly fire, air and water.
Brewing up a storm
in her bubbling cauldron;
Her madness culminating in an elixir
that makes happiness last forever !

Teary Fields of Death

In the lonely fields I wander,
a dark child follows at my heels
I feel like a zombie
but filled with dread
I am become a "nobody"
the fields glistening with golden corn,
beckon to me waving anon,
stumbling and bumbling
I shatter the grassy path I tread
the iconoclast of my past spurring me on
where I'm headed I do not know at all
lost and wandering I step on the buds
I crush some hopes and kill some rays
of joy trying to penetrate my soul
my weary silhouette has distorted the sun
I run, I cry, I fall, I die .
I do not know where to go
fields of love, fields of sorrow,
the crushed corn weeps silent tears
the gloomy aura abets my fears
not a soul in sight
such a lonely land
trying and crying, struggling and weeping,
the wretchedness makes me weep even more
the green fields are lush and verdant
now I finally know why
all this while I'd been feeding them
with the tears of my life
Dazed on the lush green grass
I run, I cry, I fall, I die.

I Feel So Guilty

When guilt overshadows pride,
and you've got nowhere to hide,
Come to me when all around is dark.
I'll be waiting for you
under the silver tresses of the moon
or under the blazing sky at noon.
I won't smother you I promise
but maybe just caress you with a kiss.

Can't forget the agony you went through,
I know how hard it must be for you.
But now its your time to shine.
Don't put yourself on the line,
for just a penniful of dreams.

Be the person you are
and just give it your best,
I'm sure you'll pass the test.

I forgave you long ago for not being there,
but it doesn't matter now becoz we're here.

I've learnt to take things in my stride
when painful guilt overshadows pride.



ps- This is a song I wrote, which is a poem too but personally I like the song version better which has got the line " I feel so guilty" as the chorus , inserted after every stanza or two.... I wish I could upload that too but I'm a terrible singer so no use till I find a suitable volunteer. ;)

Ode To The Mermaid On My Bed-spread

Ode To The Mermaid On My Bed-spread

You greet me at noon
with your cold, mysterious smirk.
(For I wake not at dawn or early morn
but only when the clock yells "Twelve" anon.)
On the fabric of rich handiwork,
you sit quite smugly, over such
mossy Grey boulders,
lending life and mystique
to all that you touch.

I refuse to be intrigued by you
or your semblance of composed blue,
For you are just but half-a-fish
and though I too am somewhat related
by the unfortunate Zodiac of Pisces thus rated,
Yet I loathe your lusty cheer
for you are but exactly
in the middle of Nowhere,
and it cannot be much fun you see
to be dipped in the Sun, then dried on the Sea.

Yet you look so calm and peaceful,
Of all fun and passion bereft.
Your liquid hair, your languid pose
cut in my heart an envious cleft.
The salty sea-wind through
your fish-finned livery flows,
Does it ruffle your tiny fish-scales,
so daintily arranged in rows.

How can you be so lifeless !
Yet seem so enticingly awake
each time I steal a glance,
ever so unwillingly at you askance.
A mirror of enchantment you hold
to me at night, as I go flying
into the long-forgotten world
of Spirits and Mermaids and Fairies,
of dark Castles and bold Knights,
of magic lamps and Witches' flights.

I know you are not sad,
Yet your eyes a longing betray.
Have you indeed come from a land faraway !
Strangely, there seem to be no Mermen around,
eager to come and carry you away
into some shellacked abode, newly found.
You must have once, bid your home adieu,
But still deep down rue the rebel in you,
Now lost among strands of dull serenity,
Waltzing on the sea of life
with an inherently innocent chastity.
I mention you hereby in my rhyme
not merely as a good past-time.
But because I see a bit of you in me,
and in you seek my "Fishy" ecstasy !

A WRITER'S BLOCK(II)

contd. from - A WRITER'S BLOCK


qualification........pooh.....just another technicality! gimme a break will you !

okay as you wish but then ....i do hope that you do know that you need to fill up those sheets of paper in order to be able to fill up your bottomless pit of a tummy you glutton !!

oh shitt !! I completely forgot all about the novel !! no time to waste.....gotta hurry....stop distracting me okay you stupid good-for-nothing voice in my head !

and i thought being sarcastic was my job ......ho hum.....

whatever .......I cant laze around anymore..thanks for reminding me......weird as it may sound but sometimes you do talk sense.

sometimes ! huh !!

" she stepped out of the car, he had already applied the brakes so it was standing motionless on the road anyways....."

no !! the fucking brakes !! they're just not right !! I cant let some goddamn brakes mess up my novel !! my comeback chance !!

ahem...let me remind you of one more thing.....you could momentarily imagine that you are fulfilling a higher purpose in life by penning down this novel and that the millions of eyes that are going to run across these lines will praise you forever if it touches their soul and they could even get hooked onto the most noble and pure habit of reading.....think of all the lives you could change.....

what are you - the testament or something !! noble.....higher purpose......where did you learn all this bullshit.......just lay off for a while okay......

"She stepped out of the car...he was thinking hard what to do.....maybe not apply the brakes......maybe he could just run her over and kill her right there on that deserted stretch of road with her insides smeared on the hard concrete and he might be free of it all yet......" naah too destructive !

well i think its going fine.....remember OQ( obscenity quotient) - this is not exactly obscene but well grossing out the readers works almost the same way and who knows maybe this way you'll garner some attention too.....and you know you do not run the risk of committing an egregious error since violence is today's reality and you are the messiah leading the way with your realistic fiction..leading onto a path of higher enlightenment and self-awareness as if lamenting the present deplorable dismal condition of mankind.........using your words as beacons of a new revolution........

Shut up !! go to a frigging church if you wanna preach !! get a life loser !!

ummm......i know these things are beyond you but you can at least put on a semblance of courtesy and for once acknowledge that i am a noble spirit guiding you and delivering you from sinful deeds.....anyways i'll just get down to your level- go ahead with your destructive thing....it works fine.....bring it on !

thank god the moralistic brigade is gone !! now you're talking....i love murders man......okay lets get on with this huh.....how about killing one or two cats too alongside.....

cats ?? huh......please spare the feline creatures , they're anyday more precious than the stupid female in your novel who has a brain the size of a nanotechnologically created molecule ..... she steps out of the car, lets her dumbass jerk of a chauffeur run her over and kill her cats too .and then..........

woah ....stop right there...first of all this is not a scientific novel....so how can she have that weird techno-brain you're talking about..also the guy is her lover..her boyfriend.....duh......and she doesnt own those cats......they're stray......and i thought you were paying attention !!

whatever !! its no use trying to talk sense to you..you are wired the wrong way weirdo.....carry on with the task at hand please...

"she stepped out of the car......"
for the last time i hope.....she's been stepping out of that car all day.....move it lady....

"she stepped out of the car and gave him a hard cold look as if she wanted to kill him.....a thud and a whack later his dead body was lying on the road.she had killed him by digging her finely pointed ultra-sharp stilettoed heel right through his heart...good riddance she thought....."

wait..wasn't she the one who was supposed to be killed....now you're changing the plot dude.......

who is writing the novel ?

ummm........you

so who gets to decide who gets killed after all ??

okay i get it dude !! carry on.....but i must tell you that anger beyond a certain level may prove to be quite harmful for you.....watch it dude....but i guess you're getting better...you are getting good at sarcasm even though i know you can't even spell it !

blah....i told you to shut up !

" so yeah she says to herself......good riddance- finally !!
thank you jimmy choo !"

hey that even rhymes......he,he....i am so cool !!

uh huh

"gloatingly she saunters across the road.....and gets run over by a speeding trailer.......those really long ones shown in speedster movies....ones that carry swanky cars within...so well......oh yeah.....she gets run over and the trailer is gleaming red but something inside is even redder.....the eyes of the driver.......ohh my god - its the dead boyfriend.........with the heel still stuck in his heart..the hull of the Choo shoe jutting out of his chest.....he has somehow managed to survive and is out to get her......sheer vengeance......... by now she is dead with her insides smeared on the hard concrete.....just as he had wanted it to be.......also he likes the hang of the trailer.....its like one monster spurring on the other ...he decides to paint all the tyres red by mowing down a few stray cats on the road too....what fun.......and dont even ask me how many tyres there actually are in that kind of a trailer....so you can well imagine how many lives he took that day......but he is our hero so he doesn't go to jail.....coz the female was a bitch and what's a few less animals here or there......aren't the zoos and the pounds just sick of them anyway.....good riddance i would say......"

ahem......what the hell are you doing ?? that is not the way you write a novel smart ass !!




ps- to be contd. further ( till the reader drops dead with disgust).