Wednesday, December 1, 2010


All things bright and beautiful
Our love had screened the reality
With curtains drawn
We refused to see, what engulfed us was insanity.

Don't know when
Don't know how
Maybe through a creek in the door
Maybe a crack in the window
In came the devil.

Never could kill me or possess me
Never could kill you or possess you
It plagued what was between us
And thus killed me
And thus killed you
And thus died God.

Of Contrast, Of Chaos

There was a storm raging. Outside, the sun shone bright after many days, rendering its warmth to all things cringed up after weeks of sunless freeze that had captured Nantes - a small on the north west of France. There was a tempest in his mind of all things unrequited love took him through... takes everyone through. Outside, his mother poured yet another coffee for yet another happy group that had stepped out after days of house arrest that the ruthless winter had put them through. He flew into a fit of rage to break yet another one of the set of shot-glasses she had got him. Outside, the calm had beset the town as its people basked in the warmth of the new sun, absorbing the beautiful sight, appreciating the temporariness of it - the fickle sun! Tomorrow another freeze fest starts; today's all they've got. There was a calm that pervaded his heart - he knew there was no going back from this pain and in that moment it became a part of him: his eyes, never the same light in them; his smile, never the same innocence in it; his mind, never to go through these motions again.

(Working on a sequel)

Friday, October 15, 2010

An Epigram

Well this is not my writing for a change. But a really moving poem that I recently came across:

‎"I strove with none, for none was worth my strife.
Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of Life
It sinks, and I am ready to depart."
- Landor

Monday, October 11, 2010


I no longer know who I am
from being someone I knew

I have lost myself
In the foresaken abyss that life and love have become

What I search here is myself
What I find here is nothing
What I wish to find here is love again

Friday, October 1, 2010

i watch the sand glass cry
the sands of time fall, so shy
counting down the time, till my eyes dry

Monday, September 20, 2010


I was heart broken
I picked up a fag
Blew rings
That became hearts

With a wave of hand
I broke the hearts.

The totem

He sat there
Looking at her
His music playing in his head
He waited years
He waited ages.

She lay besides him
Beauty of His creation
Oozing out of her
Even though, it tempted him not
It was in its grasp
That he was caught.
He was lost.
Like a ruthless arrow
It shot through his heart.

Woken up now,
His dream was shattered.
Troubled with the reality
He fought to hold onto his sanity
With the totem of his love.

No one minds getting lost in dreams. It's reality that most fear. We need a totem (an anchor) - not to avoid getting lost in dreams but to avoid getting lost in reality. Hold on to your totem. Do anything, don't lose it. Its painful, being lost.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Mr Enrique, now I know why...

Taking sun in its stride
It shines like a diamond with fervor

Drop a tear in my wine glass
And I shall savor it forever

Monday, July 19, 2010

Its time for time to do the killing

To some, the greatest healer
To some, something to bide
To some, something to kill
It has never really waited for one.

Me, I have killed
so much of it
that I am tired.

And now that I am tired,
It has regrouped and gathered strength
And its coming back to me
with an unprecedented vengeance.

I am the resigned general
with my troops surrounded
Do I surrender?
Or do I fight till I die?
Does it really matter?

Alas, the foe won't accept a surrender.
Befallen on the general
is the onus to fight
but my troops are running helter-skelter with fright.
Like an omen it looms on my head,
Won't rest a quantum of self
till he sees me dead.

I wait for the assassin
It approaches in silence
But I can sense
his growing confidence
as to me he marches.

He'll get me in the end,
of that I am sure
Because he got them all
who were much stronger than me.

There was a time
we were best of mates.
Worked together
for both our sakes.

Now, it seems, he blames me
For, I know not what
but so much wrath
can't be without a cause.

"Why me?" I could cry
"Why not?" he would reply.

I wait not for a gesture of his hands.
For my assassination is by my own hands.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Thorns of Bliss

It's in solitude
that mind takes flight
but it's amongst friends
that it desires to be.

It's in angst
that this hand
moves like the wind
and in satisfaction
thoughts desert the mind.

It's in fervor of hurt
that passion surfaces
but in delight
you ought to look at my plight.

And hence, I have come to desire pain.

They call me crazy,
they call me mad.
But try and understand me,
for all is desire
is to write.

Moving On

Once upon a time,
Not very long ago
I saw light at the end of the tunnel
Until he came along and claimed the tunnel
threw me out
and owned the light
that had shone for all.

Now the tunnel
lost its charm to me
Oh! What I'd given
for moments of that light
And now, one look at it
tells me its not mine
and I don't desire it anymore.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

My shadow...

When insanity locks itself up and sanity is forced in the next room. When sanity pines for one look at the insanity. When insanity is self-indulged, satisfied. And when sanity all but desirous, far from satisfied, praying for insanity to overbear and overwhelm.

When all the sanity in the world is not enough for the tranquility and peace that you desire and insanity does not come to the rescue as the tranquilizer it had become, to ease the pain. To make it worth living the week after the listless, tiring week that sapped you of all desire to live the next. A week that makes you as crazy to think and write this.

Getting up in middle of the night with these random thoughts. Scattered really. Insanity opened the doors and took me with arms wide open. So, rest for later... [end of part 1]

[part 2]
It was not me writing all this. It was my shadow. In a moment when it no longer embraced my body. I was searching for it. It completes me and its back now. Self-embraced and content, with its act of randomness.

About a writer...

I am an artist
I paint pages with my pen.

I am a sculptor
I sculpt my characters.

I am a genie
I grant them their desires, and mine.

I am a potter
making vessels of clay.
I am the village wife
traveling miles to fill them with water.

I am the sand
that constitutes the vessels
and the clay
that binds it.

I am the driver
who takes them places.

I am the eyes on the street
that observes them
that judges them.

I am the mystic
who knows their future

I am the psychiatrist
who tells them their problems

I am their humility.
But this arrogance is all mine.


Sometimes I can't tell
What's right and what's wrong as hell.
What's truly on my mind
because I am not sure
If it is an instinct, wild
or processed thoughts with all connected dots.

Sometimes its wishful thinking
Sometimes passionate dreams
Sometimes love
Sometimes lust it is.

Sometimes scattered thoughts
that compel me to write
Molding clay, making objects
from the raw ingredients
that are my thoughts.

Of cigarettes and life...

If you don't want to smoke a whole cigarette, you can throw away whatever part of it you don't like. I wish that was true about life as well.

If you don't want a full cigarette, you can share it with a friend. Well, isn't that true about life as well!

A fist full of dollars

As he sat there, not
with so much as a thought
neither a tune
nor a song in his mind,
further from truth
his heart pushed his mind
but never, unfortunately, could make him blind.

Tormented by his plight,
having tasted blood in youth
the free spirit in him lamented
as it had been, since forever now,
denied of bliss.

A thought then entered
his trained and chained mind
like a pebble flung
by a callous boy
in the passive sea
sending a shiver of ripples
down his spine
as he was reminded
of having sold all his dreams
for a 'fist full of dollars'.

Don't you know me by now

I start my day
on a queer monday
thinking not of the sunday past
neither I am stressed
at the thought of the week.
It's sheer joy of living
that grips my heart;
Why am I elated?, I know not
maybe just thankful for all I got.

You say don't worry
You say you'll pray
But in this crisis my heart's bound astray
I care not for failure
I care not for my pride
nor for the future, as I see it slide.

I care for the misery I put you through
I care for the pain they feel for me
And when you say I don't care
It hurts; not because you think I am selfish
But for the thought that
You don't know me... you don't know me till now.

The Painter

I took a walk by the sea
to think through some troubles
to make an attempt to set mind free
from the mundane garbles

I met a man
painting a picture of the scene,
his unrestricted hands
swept the canvas
in a calm peaceful fashion

I walked up to him and asked
if he saw beauty
and attempted to recreate it
or did he just attempt to create it,
where there existed none.

Friday, May 21, 2010

if i have learnt to complete my self with you
if i am incomplete without you
if i crave for you to be here
or me to be with you

if i am waiting for you
all the day
if i want to see you every day
blame me not
coz i am so incomplete without you.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

blast from the past

There are too many things happening for me to be coherent about this post. Its a Saturday and I have a deadline by tonight. I will spill my heart when I can afford to do so (never thought I'd have to say that in my life). But an incident a few days back, left me emotionally charged. I am reminded of this one song that I'll use as a proxy, for the shortage of time and for keeping the emotion alive.

Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun.

Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of lifeand the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life.

I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight..into the shining sun.

-Coming Back to Life, Pink Flyod

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Trying one in hindi :P

ab socha toh teri yaad aayi
aankhen band hone lagin, dil mein tu nazar aayi.
hua ye ehsaas, ki hai kuch khaas
aisi hi nahi ek zindagi maine bitaayi, banke teri parchayi.

Sunday, March 21, 2010


further from truth
my heart pushes my mind,
it puts a fold on my eyes
but can't make me blind.

Sunday, March 14, 2010


---Just found this in my drafts---

There are two weeks left of my fuchchadom at IIM Ahmedabad, as I sit to write this bog on a Sunday evening. Don't misread me, I DO NOT have the time to write this blog. I am stealing it between assignments!

How desperately each fuchcha looks forward towards the end of this period is not something I will waste a blog entry on! But as this period draws to an end, there are idiots like me who, despite the pain and the misery of the year gone, will look back and cherish each day.

It has changed a lot in me. Having been born and brought up in one place, I have had the luxury of the company of family, friends and love whenever I needed them.

This was by far the most happening year of my life. It was tough to save the relationship in the beginning, which I managed to scrape through. There were inc

I came into this year a kid, I am going out a man.

Friday, March 12, 2010

I am here
burning in hell
while you found heaven yonder
despite the separation of the worlds between
I have come to grow fonder!

I have chosen
to be where I am
travelling through the worlds
don't come down here to get me
in an attempt to set me free

It's dark, It's scary
But that's just how is this story
but I have found my solace
It's here that I lost everything
but it's here that I found my self.

There's hope, there's joy
there are times when I cry
No, I don't want you to come for me
but come and see, now I am free.

I daren't come to you now
for I am scared what you got to show
a land of sunsets and evening tea
might withdraw me from my insanity

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


With a lone face in his eyes
and a lone thought in his heart,
he recalled her smiles
when time stood still and events began to dart.

she had a way about her
he knew not what.
It made him suffer
But it was worth-it, for all he got.

Lost in her thoughts
He was sure he was lucky,
for he couldn't connect the dots
that had bought him to this lady, so lovely.


Saturday, February 13, 2010

A long due first post

Amidst the dynamic mundane,
the mind is pushed to see
the way the things change
and the way they don't.

Somehow I know,
amidst all this noise in my head,
that you are the tranquility
you are the solace.

Amidst the silence in my head,
You are the voice
one of reason
and one of faith.

Amidst the darkness in my heart
you are the light
of wisdom and of prudence
you are the strength of my being

Amidst all that I have come to call mine,
you are the prized.

You are the anchor
in the tempest of my mind
And the sails
for the raft of my life.