Guinea Pig

Handpicked out of numerous specimens, experimented, being synchronised in every octave, molten self being poured into umpteen moulds, each as juvenile as melancholy, surreptitiously scripting the most jocular twists, my life, my relevance, is of a guinea pig, and they my Gods are satanic!!

Sunday, November 26, 2006


a wry smile,


into the walls,

strikes the mirror,



he stands,

walks to it,

then stares,

it glistens,


finally dares.

to laugh,


and show,

his reality,

his self,

his woe.

he shivers,



in fragments,

on ground,

it crops.


a million,



all around,

in tears.

he sits,

counting 'em,

all day,

starting from zinch,

losing count,

in dismay.



the dawn,

the day,

all gone.


he wipes,

his tears,

when laughs,

sadistic laughters,

he hears.

countless titters,

full of life,

or short of it,

down there,

lay hopelessly,


Thursday, October 12, 2006


Arms wide open,
Eyes close shut,
He sits in the sunlight,
Striving, for that touch...

He gets up early,
And lies naked,
Controlling his breath,
Waiting, for that touch...

He stares at the sun,
Perspiring profusely,
Feters paining his body,
Asking for that touch...

To the best of his pace,
He runs and strides,
Suffering, for that touch...

He rolls in the turf,
Sodden in the rain,
Unmoved, limbs tied,
Looking, for that touch...

Walks against the wind,
Towards the world,
The stars are calling,
Searching, for that touch...

Unsuccessful, lost,
Defeated, failed,
Dejected, downed,
He continues,
Living his life,
The way,
He used to,
And then,
He felt,


Walking in the rain,
A million drops,
A million colours,
Then it all goes,

Bathing in the sun,
One monday morning,
Drenched, in sweat,
The vibrance of the rays,
And then it goes,

Lying on my bed,
Half-opened eyes,
A plethora of thoughts,
But lo, it goes,

Standing in a crowd,
Through countless people,
Countless colours,
Then why does it all go,

I paint my room,
In reds and yellows and blues,
All possible shades, all possible hues,
And I stare,
When it all turns,

Am dying,
Am in pain,
But am relieved,
Coz very soon,
It'll all be,

So I close my eyes,
Deep shut,
And I cease thinking,
But I see,
The colourful drops,
The spectrum of the sun,
Thoughts, emotions,
People, life,
Why does it not go,


Late for my class,
Am running semi-clothed,
She spots me on the way,
And steadily follows.

She yaps, and gorans, and tries,
Her best she could to bite,
I fasten, decide to hide,
In the best place I could site.

Come out when I feel,
Its safe and she'd be gone,
Struggle to reach the class,
With trousers half torn.

Somehow, I sneak in,
And settle in some hidden seat,
And lo, I'm amazed,
I spot some inhuman feet.

She came, sat next to me,
My eyes, I could not believe,
Staring with those stealing eyes,
Mine, I thought, did deceive.

I ran out of the room,
Hid myself in the loo,
Maybe she didn't read the "gents" sign,
Whoa! She was there too.

Since that time, in my world,
Wherever I am, she's been there,
My face, my hands, my ass,
Biting me, almost everywhere.


Thursday, May 04, 2006

Norm Life Baby.....the Sojourn!!!

Did somebody say life is a journey? [:-/] Somebody must have. Anyways, life is a journey, best undertaken in a bus [:0] , the most practical laboratory for human understanding, a largely conjusted sanctuary with the extremest variation in creatures, creepy[:-], smelly[:/(], shady[:@], mysterious[:?], aromatic[:-)], weird[:%], usual[:}], solitary[:(], overjoyed[:D], low[:/(], high[@)], disgusting[:B], disgusted[;B], (not to forget sexy[:D], ugly[;&] and beautiful[;)], which requires an article on its own), every face, as I look into them, provides me with an altogether different adjective(thats what they're called, I think...). Its been over 3-4 years since I've been a regular, frequenting Delhi from my place, and now less-frequenting my place from here, no exaggeration if I say I've learnt more than I've learnt in Majnu's or IJG's or Sardar's lectures, or anybody's, for that matter.

Semi-shocked at my getting a local bus for ISBT that late at night, I was amazed at the beautiful lady (read "hot chic") getting into the bus next to me. But did not take me long to realize who she was, after the oh-so-young-boyish conductor did a mischief [:D] (which according to him, was unintentional[;D]). And then came the dialogues flowing non-ishtop from the lady(??)'s did-you-look-at-my-lipcolour-baby lips, "Naya AAya Hai KYa?", and how about "AiSI HaalAt KarWa DunGi, TeRi AmmA BhI NaHi PehCHaneGi" and all the bechara(oh really!!) conductor could do was to listen, with his face dug deep into the tickets, pretending to be imperturbed by any voice around him. And then its time for the lady(??) to get down(the bus!!), she does, gracefully, proud(of??), without even paying the fare!! And our I'm-sporting-my-tee-macho-style conductor, to prove that he's not lost the battle gets down, starts walking towards her, eventually opening his mouth, for the occasion, until the driver calls him back with the supremacy and authority he's been provided with. And lo, it doesn't end there, when the lady(??) crosses the road back to the bus, points her finger at the conductor (or the driver, or the bus as a single entity)....till the driver maintaining his cool, drives away to glory!!!

Don't ask me what I learnt out of this one, but twas fun [:D], lots of it!!!

Friday, April 14, 2006

Its all in the Game!!!

Have we anytime given a thought where these weird futuristic ooh-so-helpful-not-so-believable intuitions originate? I'm one of those who has this extra strong belief on the crazy horoscopes in these English dailies which predict the same future for one-twelfth of the world's total junta, maybe I'm the chosen one out of the entire mankind that prevails on this earth, why do these guys write about me only? Thats because I am "The chosen one", the hero, the central character, the protagonist of this story, this game, this game which everyone around me is playing, life is what we call it baby. Heres how it goes, I'm presented with a road and I start walking, why, coz thats what you do when you have a road and a truck load of enthusiasm and energy, and when I'm exhausted, the road presents before me a wonderful four way, illuminated with bright multicoloured lamps each of them, making me realize I have been walking all day, and I halt, stop to rest, actually rest and figure out my way out of all of them, and then this inexplicable entity called intuition overcasts my mind, and I,with full vigour decide to follow any way but the one my intuition presents before me, just because I'm unique, and I want to prove to myself, and to the world as well, that intuition is not right, that the way, whichever I choose for myself, would be the best one. And then, I falter, I realize why God tells us beforehand whatever is right, coz he knows what we are going to choose, anything but the one he's presented, and thats how he proves himself right, thats how horoscopes work. And smiling to me, is she, no she's laughing on me, I close my eyes as to not look at her, to avoid the glare, not even a glance, and with full might, I run back, trying to retrace the path I took, I run, and run, and run, but there's no four way anymore, no light, no colours, just she, my intuition laughing her heart out, and I run faster, faster, faster!!

Saturday, April 08, 2006


A canvas, so lifeless,
An artist, so lone,
An angel, he painted,
An angel of his own.

On the creation, he smiled,
His heart no longer at strife,
The last stroke of his brush,
And the angel came to life.

She gave him a world to live,
Emotions to feel,
She gave him a life to love,
Also wounds to heal.

A friend to rely on,
She gave him joys to share,
Times of his sorrow,
She always was there.

A smile on his lips,
Countless tears in his eyes,
Every feeling to remind him,
Yes he still survives.

She gave him a reason to sleep,
And a day to wake up to,
A kiss to set him ablaze,
Some magic her embrace could do.

Everyday he used to paint,
In blues and reds and yellows,
The colours of life,
Of love and sadness and mellows.

Till the day she became too real,
She had to be set free,
To teach the world to love,
And left to himself was he.

I walk alone.........

I walk, melancholy to be alone, contented to be with myself, oh how much I enjoy my company. Trees all around, play within themselves,, enjoy teasing me throwing a leaf or two every moment, the music of dead leaves rhythemically under my feet, the road thins to a zinch in my glittery eyes, while the sun glares directly into them, asking the direction. I never look back, never halt, just walk, my energies adjust my pace, the soothing wind intensifies accordingly, the mirage makes me aware of my thirst, for life, the semi-visible horizon acts as a placebo, giving me fake hope. And lo, the road splits into two, making me realize I could no longer hear my companion's silence, leaving me with no other alternative, but to wait for him to catch up, I'm sure he will, someday, and then I'll choose my road, till then, I'm stagnant, hopeful, I will catch up with myself.......

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

I want to live....!!!

I want to live for the moment, bidding adieu to every second, weaving a ballad out of the threads of life, letting the silence hum its music in my ears. Come, sing along, fly with me, to explore beyond sky's blues, the hidden colours. May your thoughts soar high, I know you require some intense thrust, but my wings, I feel have been chiseled, they appear bijou, but are too midget to fly.
Words argue with feelings, thoughts torment emotions, heart debates head, scuffle, destruction, wreckage, tears provide temporary healing. Is it virtual? Life's a myth, dreams are reality, we live in a matrix, look beyond things, undercover there's darkness, maybe words are better, maybe they're not, talk, speak, converse, discover, I'm not real.
I wish..........!!!!!