Set the setback back...

9/11/2009, Monday...

When your thoughts are skew..
and the words are few..
When something keeps haunting you..
and black is your hue..
Don't let your head rue..
go and sue..
all that, that forced you in lieu..
go and stew..
all that, that made your thoughts go askew..
All that i wrote may or may not be true..
but since, i had words that were few..
i tried not, not to try something new..

And if you happen to chew..
what i told you to stew..
or if you happen to sue..
what i told you to sue..
Just after closing that dreaded file..
My friend, spare a thought for me..
and give me, give me an immolating smile..
:)

I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...

Sauntering in a quagmire...

27/10/2009, Tuesday...

I wrote a line on a page..
I wrote a page on a line..
The line wasn't mine..
so i scribbled that sign..

The words that i tied down..
wanted to be set free..
The lines that i strangled..
wanted to breathe again..

The throes of the nubile words..
The pangs of that scribbling pen..
who under that ornery hand..
blotted the spawning azureness into sand..

Those hands were a little greasy..
That heart was a little queasy..
That carnal stupor of a lunatic waif..
isn't always safe..
that isn't always safe..

I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...

Perfunctory quintessence..

18/10/2009, Sunday...

Everyone was in a joyous mood..
Prising were their guts, with 'delicious' food..
as the children play..
gregariousness was on display..

Lights were all around..
The crackers had their sound..
and the rockets, nose-dived to the ground..

The festive night ended..
The vignettes, were all shattered now..
the rambunctious crackers were all dead..
As they lay on the road..
waiting for their autopsy, before the tillage..
and some were lucky to survive the pillage..

Then, in the morning, a boy..
was out on the road, to pick up the pieces..
they call him, a rag picker..
'dirty' and 'dark' was he..
walking through that seething filth sea..

Out of no where, he saw a lucky survivor cracker..
he decided to put it to use..
and blew up its fuse..
As a nearby plant nodded..
the notorious cracker exploded..
That poker's face was replaced by a cute childish one..
That was real happiness..
the one that stems, straight from heaven..

I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...
:)

Rakhi Sawant : The Killer Machine..

4/10/2009, Sunday...

Now that you've read what is written above, i must make it clear that it wasn't meant to be ironical, because i wrote it in a matter of fact way. What does that mean ? This means that she really is a killing machine and like a thousand others - who are just like me, who walk, talk and act like me - she does make me go weak in the knees. This was the matter of fact way i was talking about. But the fact of the matter is this - she kills my days when i accidently happen to have a look at her face, or that trademark effrontery of hers, or any of her 'always tactile' publicity stunts and she's been doing that quite consistently for quite some time now. So, she is indeed a killing machine. Every time that fatal accident happens or at times is forced to happen, i go weak in the knees because i feel like bending my knees and puking. So this makes that once in a while retching and frowning, after looking at her, quite normal. Hence that 'killer machine' tag...!

And accidently again i heard somewhere that she's 'hot' and men go weak in their knees when they ogle at the skimpily clad 'sav(w)ant.' She's got everything that a woman can have to turn me off and may be its true for any male homo-sapien who's equipped with even a modicum of rationality. I hope that the 'coy' (bomb)shell, doesn't decimate my edifices again with her (bomb)shells...!

All her polemical moments make me frown..

Into the abyss, i drown..

somebody please, please somebody kick her out of the town...!!

I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...

:)

Ram and Ravan united against a common eneME...

18/9/2009, Friday...

This might sound profane..
its that time of the year again..
when the Ramleela drives me insane..

Lord Rama, the super..
gauche Ravana, the usurper..
the sacrosanct 'transvestite' Sita, who is far from all evil..
or the garrulous platoon led by a cavernous devil..
and not to mention the 'apocalyptic' presenter of the function..
who is short of even the basic gumption..

The gyaan is too 'profound'..
and the cacophony is too loud and is veritably called a mere 'sound'..!
all the audiences they want to lure..
all the audiences they fail to lure..
but still they never fail to act cock-sure..
and keep 'creating' all that stupid furore..
welcoming the local politicians is their sole motive..
introducing & familiarising them with the native..

Why did i write all this, with all my apathy ?
because i want to gain your sympathy..
away from the main theme, did i sway..
because from my room..
the Ramleela's loudspeaker is just 20 metres away...!!
just 20 metres away...!!

I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...

Ashtray...

4/9/2009, Friday...

This is a song by an American punk rock band called Screeching Weasel. The song, it seems, has been written on me..!

I can't pay the rent, the 20 bucks I made last week's already spent..
The landlord's at the door and there's dried beer and cigarette butts on the floor..
Can't seem to go to work and let some fucker treat me like a piece of dirt..
Get out of bed, my head is fucking screwed..
And my life is really going down the tubes..
I dont know what the fuck to do..
Got half a pack of cigarettes and my wallet is completely bare again..
I might be broke but I don't care, I just watch TV in my baggy underware..
Monday morning 9 am, I gotta get out and start looking for a job..
I don't want a career, I got enough to deal with here..
And I shelled out my last 7 bucks for beer..
I don't know what the fuck to do..
I see the room before my eyes, a rotten pizza covered up with flies..
This just ain't the life for me, don't wanna end up like Lenny, Jake and Jesse..
Can't seem to go to work and let some fucker treat me like a piece of dirt..
Get out of bed at noon, my head is fucking screwed..
And my life is really going down the tubes..
I don't know what the fuck to do..


I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...
:)

The right to rape...

21/8/2009, Friday...

Afghanistan has recently passed a law which is being termed as the "Shia Personal Status Law". This so called 'law' legalizes 'marital-rape' of a woman by her husband. This law gives a Shia husband the right to deny his wife/wives, food and sustenance, if they refuse to obey their husbands' sexual demands. The new final draft of the legislation also grants guardianship of children exclusively to their fathers and grandfathers and requires women to get permission from their husbands to work.

What a 'law'.. ! And as if that wasn't enough, according to the U.S. charity Human Rights Watch, "It also effectively allows a rapist to avoid prosecution by paying ‘blood money’ to a girl who was injured when he raped her."

It seems to me as if the Afghan governing body is keen on carving out a few more Genghis Khan's out of those who can 'afford to rape'. A man rapes a girl.. pays her the 'blood money'.. and evades the law.. and now, he's not a criminal.. as simple as that.. What the f*** ?

And ironically, Afganistan, just had elections to 'democratically' elect the new President of The Islamic Republic of Afghanistan. Democracy at its best. And till now, no one in the country has dared to impugn this barbaric law.The new government in office can at best be described as consisting of the henchmen of the Afghani warlords, if not of the Talibs, and, in no way are they less oppressive than the Talibs. And the charlatan 'theologists' (Ayatollah Asif Mohseni, the chief hardline Afghan cleric behind the law, according to whom - a woman does have a right to say no, but then the man has a right not to feed her.) on whose recommendations this law has been passed, are nothing more than a bunch of bloody deified satyromaniac impostors.

I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...