Withnail and I

I have of late - but wherefore I know not - lost all my mirth;
and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory,
this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,
why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.

What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! How like an angel in apprehension. How like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me: no, nor women neither. Nor women neither.

Hamlet Act 2

So that's it?

Wind blows as leaves fly in front of the clear blue sky. Not a sign of any bird in the sky. Tall tress sway around wailing, bidding adieu. It was nice having you to talk to, they say. I stand there mute. Words fail me as i look down not sure about what to say. All alone in the morning after frequent night outs, these trees used to cheer me on. These guardians of my dreams used to placate me promising to be there when i woke up, promising nothing would change, it will all remain the same. They wouldn't judge me, they wouldn't question, they wouldn't talk they'd just listen. Silently they used to nod accepting my side of the debate without ever debating me. No matter how a week would end they'd stand there waiting for me. Happy to listen to me after a tiresome week. I am not the most interesting of men and it rarely bothered them. They'd just be happy to have someone to talk to as was i. Tears are merely physical materialization of emotions. This thoughts kill me as i say farewell. I hope i long for this eternal silence that every day began with. I hope i don't get satisfied with the noise. I hope i keep writing or have anything good to write about. Kal aur aaenge nagmon ki khilti kalia chunnen wale, mujhse behtar kehne wale tumse behtar sunne wale. Fir koi mujhko yaad kare kyun koi mujhko yaad kare, magroor zamana mere lie kyun waqt apna barbaad kare. Mein pal do pal ka shayar hun. Why do i write this? The blog i mean if not for recognition of some kind or some kind of narcissist approach towards life. I could have kept a private diary. Every author is a narcissist. If there is a good author who isn't, you've most probably not heard of him for he shall never make his work public. Maybe the greatest authors kept the best of their written material to themselves. Birds are chirping now, goodnight alarm for me. if you read this and like it, imagine what beautiful material i shall never show to the world and die of envy .[:)] why so serious, son?

Remin me to edit this.... when am sober....

It's 5am. The sun's about to dawn upon us, the moon shall silently wander into wilderness. It had its moment good and bad. But the hour's gone. A new day shall dawn upon us.

The problem with waking up this long is that you have no one to talk to or more of no one who wants to talk to you. So you talk to yourself and you contemplate over matter trivial or not so trivial and you think, reminiscence. That's bad if you are semi-drunk as in being drunk 3 hours ago and not being completely sober. So this establishes the foundation of my write up. Not that I have nay structure to be held. But then sometimes the beginning is where all the fun lies and the rest is looking back at past. Missing the lost and fearing what lies ahead. It's 50% probability (the good vs bad thing) and yet we fear the bad part because you'd rather fear the future to like the present rather than love the future to get rid of the present. Get Drunk , Live life... Will edit this when am sober.. Am all apologies.... I used to drink,..... i still do.... I didnt drink..... i gulped.... I hate whisky.... but then i don;t like life too much either.....


Dig on this....

Aye Mere Pyare Watan
Manna Dey
aye mere pyaare watan aye mere bichhade chaman tujh pe dil kurbaan
too hee meree aarajoo, too hee meree aabaru, too hee meree jaan

tere daaman se jo aaye, un hawaaon ko salaam
choom loo main us jubaan ko jis pe aaye teraa naam
sab se pyaaree subah teree, sab se rangee teree shaam

maan kaa dil banake kabhee seene se lag jaataa hain too
aaur kabhee nanheesee betee ban ke yaad aataa hain too
jitanaa yaad aataa hain too, utanaa tadapaataa hain too

chhodakar teree jameen ko door aa pahuche hain hum
fir bhee hain yahee hain tamannaa tere jarro kee kasam
hum jahaan paidaa huye, us jagah hee nikale ye dam


Kambakht dum bhi to nahi nikalta.... Crap.



They say you are too easily manipulated. I mean, i say that to myself. It is more of me talking to my sober self. Why wouldn't i like to be manipulated, i have led too much of my life on my own. Why not give the gears to someone else for a time being just for the heck of it...

I don't talk to drunk men(talking to a drunk fem might not be that boring ...:P)

Why?, is it their drinking whiskey or is it the whiskey itself.. if i can handle my drink. what the f dos it matter to anyone else...

but others have a right to reject someones initiative...

but don't others have the right to take that initiative.. then why label them bad...

but u have to maintain the social decorum....

who made this decorum. i didn't and i refuse to follow anarchy,,,,,

if u refuse to do so, then kindly walk out of the system. Everything was going fine in your absence too

..... hahaha. throwin me out for debating the established order quite friendly eh...

Write

Write something, anything. Is writing such a trivial matter. Can one write anything?

There she stood before me. So strong yet so delicate. The eyes smiling look into nothing, nothing at all. She looked beyond you into the emptiness inside. Her hair fallen all over her face. The darkness inviting into the mysteries of the world. The forehead so pure like a bridge between heaven and hell. With a movement of those dark orbs she could declare the fate of humans. A sudden upward moment declaring surprise, a downward moment announcing shyness. Those blood red lips so luscious, so near yet so far. The ultimate prize for a man's lifetime of crusade. a slight upward moment declaring sunshine, a downward twitch the end of humanity. When she smiled her teeth seemed to be what they were, the pearly gates of heaven.

The sun was shining bright. Not that it was summer, the winter was on decline and the sun was shining after a long time. The sudden warmth had brightened many a lives that day. As he walked down that empty footpath, he couldn't help singing. Suddenly he veered to the left and then back to his position and then to the right. He felt like dancing. The birds chirping around encouraged him along. He rotated around his position ending the step with his hands spread out and his face downwards The king 'Elvis' couldn't have don't it better. The smile kept spreading its tentacles around his face. he loved life. He in that moment forgave his enemies, reached out to heaven and beckoned hell along. His song got a bit louder, his steps a bit hasty, his smile wider. Love was in the air, and he was not immune to it. He remembered her, she was smiling. Ha, does life get any better. He moved left his home stared at him. Kept dancing on his way to his house humming the song. When suddenly a car came out of nowhere and hit him. As if life played in slow motion. He remembered being thrown up and his slow fall downwards. A drop of red fell into his eyes as he lay sprawled over the road. So, this was life, death at last A smile in between.His life flashed in front of his life. His mom, his father, his sister all as if stood in front of him, smiling. He raised his to try and touch them for the last time, a weak smile on his face. But the strain was too much, and with a sigh he ended his song.

Sparks

“Pathetic. Incredibly stupid. That’s what I think it is. This is incredibly pathetic. All of you are stupid, daft, nonsense. Idiots. A bunch of rotten pigs you are. I haven’t met a gathering of idiots in this school as rotten as you. The whole bunch of you is sickeningly rotten. None of you even try to study do you? Only one kid, Amit, here seems to be trying to study. He is the only one who gives me hope in this class. Rest of you are useless fools.”

The teacher paused taking in a breath before beginning to lambast the students below average performance once again. I sat as usual in the second bench in the middle row. My head hung low in acknowledgment of all the attention I had garnered. Being in the middle of the class ranks had been just perfect for me, this sudden rise to stardom left me speechless and feeling awkward. Life of obscurity, the absence of attention, had been my goal but this term everyone seemed to have failed miserably. Embarrassment overflew from me, as did the promise to never top again. As I came out of the mist of these emotions that I noticed the girls in the first two benches of the row left of me . There was she, the beauty that glittered in this winter morning. Ah, how many days I have wasted staring at her knowing very well that the looks will never be reciprocated. I know such things look daft, but alas love is kind of stupid. Being a nobody, had not helped either. Now as I looked at her I noticed her staring back and she was giggling pointing in my direction and from that corner I heard the word ‘Blush’. I had been blushing, I assure you, I didn’t know it though. This nightmare of displaying my emotions left me further embarrassed and perplexed. But as with any other day, the class ended and the gathering of idiots broke up for the recess. As I sat with my usual group of friends I noticed her still staring at me and whispering something to the girl next to her. I was sure they were talking about the blushing incident. And that sadly embarrassed me even more. I did what any other normal human would do; I stood up and just went away aghast that this moment when at last she noticed me would be so disappointing, so crushing.

The last class was games or P.T. period. The boys played cricket while the girls played basketball just next to the cricket ground. Batsman had hit the ball high. I ran under the ball to catch it and was just about to dive when I slipped into a puddle of mud and the ball fell right on me. Everyone laughed and she in that corner, in her heinous voice, laughed out the loudest I am sure. The wretchedness of the moment was too much to bear. All along the second half of the class day, I knew positively that she had been laughing at me, giggling like the stupid bitch she was. Making comments about me, the blush .To think I had been begging for attention from such a girl exasperated me. At that precise moment I knew I had to make her pay for it. The vengeance would be mine. I wanted to pick up the bat. I wanted to walk to her in utter silence. And when the distance was just right, hit her straight on the face with the wide side of the bat. As she fell, to knock her in the abdomen with the thinner edge of the bat. Then to continue smashing her face with the narrow handle of the bat. I wanted to hit her face as if it was golf ball. To stomp on that evil face, to leave her face battered beyond recognition. To go on thrashing the shamefaced bitch till she had no life to utter any other word against anyone ever. As the crowd looked on too shell shocked to react, I wanted to kill her to death right then. I wish I hadn’t.

Cleanin the Closet Series - III

Ther'es a silence now... the free flow of last few years has taken its toll... u grow up, u fade away.... the transition from the peak to the depths,... the realization of decay that is what gnaws at our soul every day.... run away??... where to?? or to fight but to fight whom, when there aint no enemy... anyways following is the stuff i wrote in college....


And the summer days are gone... and the winters coming out.....and i feel alone i miss something somehow... the nights have passed alone.... then the dawn returns... and i sit on the couch crying like i did last night.... and the summer days are gone.....the winds blow, the silence has won... the sun rises and begins the dawn... but theres no light now in my life.... now that the brightness is all gone.... i know i never told how..... much i loved u and do..... how much i miss u now.... and the paints shall fade away and the wall shall crumble down..... but i shall always be here.... waiting for u to come around.... u know wasnt always so bad.... i gave it all that i had... the coffers empty now...and the actor takes his bow.... i hope u know i do.... i hope u know i love you.... i hope so many things.... i wish i could do all of it again.... dont just leave me here alone.... a dark room where the light once shown...

Pyaasa - Shayari

Jab hum chale to saaya bhi apna na saath de, jab tum chalo zameen chale asman chale
jab hum rukein sath ruke sham e bekasi, jab tum ruko bahar ruke chandni ruke.

GHam is kadar badhe ke mein ghbra ke pi gaya,is dil ki bebasi pe taras kha ke pi gaya
Thukra raha tha mujhko badi der se jahan, mein aaj sab jahan ko thukra ke pi gaya


Yeh hanste hue fool yeh mehka hua gulshan,
yeh rang aur noor mein doobi hui rahen
yeh foolon ka rass peke machalte hue bhanvre
mein dun bhi to kya dun tumhein ae shauk nazaron
le de kar mere paas kuch aansun hai kuch aanhein

Tragical History OF Doctor Faustus

Been planning of publishing for a long time. Well at last here it is, lines from Tragical History of Doctor Faustus by CHristopher Marlowe...

All things that move between the quiet poles
Shall be at my command: emperors and kings
Are but obeyed in their several provinces

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium.
Sweet Helen make me immortal with a kiss (Kisses Helen)
Her lips suck forth my soul! See where it flies!
Come Helen come, give me my soul again
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helen.

O, thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of thousand stars;

Stand still, you ever moving sphere of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come:
Fair nature’s eye, rise, rise again and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day
That Faustus may repent and save his soul.

Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years
A hundred thousand years, and at last be sav’d!
O, no end is limited to damn’d souls.

The stars move still, time reins, the clock will strike,
The devil will come and Faustus must be dam’d
O, I’ll leap up to my God! – Who pulls me down?
See, see, where Christ’s blood streams in the firmament.

Terminat Hora Diem
Terminat Auctor Opus.
(The hour ends the day
The author ends his work.)

A Day int the LIfe of the Prince

He wept all alone in the corner of his magnificent castle. The room was very neatly arranged and obviously with good taste. Some of the best pieces of work had been bought by him from Christie’s. People never realized nor did they care about who bought them or where they went. But he had all of them arranged in their frames aesthetically in this room. This was his private lounge. It was perpetually dark, he seemed to love darkness. He found it more natural. He very often said “You see light is artificial, there has to something to provide you with light but darkness well even God could not create it. It was always there just waiting for the light to go out. You could remove the light but you could not remove the dark, it would always sneak in”. The place was so silent, so beautiful that he always came to contemplate and occasionally cry in this room.

His name was Lucifer, though most people better knew him as Satan or by his title The Prince of Darkness. And no, his favorite number was not 666, it was 2. There was no particular reason for this; it was just arbitrarily his favorite number. And no, he didn’t have horns or a tail, though he wore them when he felt like going old school with his newer entries. Ruling a sad place like hell had worn him down. He wanted a break; he wanted to stay for a few days, away from this misery, this silence. It overwhlemed him.He hadn't always been so alone. Once the closest to God, he now lay forsaken in his kingdom. To have been amongst the chosen few of Lord himself and then to live in such a cold place, broke him. Sometimes, even after so many years, he dreamt he was back with his father in heaven, tucked near him, listening to a bed time story. He pondered when in his life had he become the villain of those tales.He still cried in his dreams over the beauty he was missing. He hadn't always been so alone. God himself had kept him company many a times when he felt alone, and now in this giant mansion he felt like a brick himself. It seemed he was there just because the mason had nothing better to put there. This facade of evilness was eroding the core of his heart, which was not completely dark yet. He wanted to run away but where he had no clue. He had no friends, no relatives he could go to. The dark clouds were covering the sun, but somehow a few sunrays still gleamed from that core.

Heaven was no longer as merciful as it had been. This had happened ever since God had appointed Peter to be the guardian of those pearly gates. He lighted a cigarette. He loved smoking when he was all alone, it calmed him,thought he never did so in public. He didn’t want people to die prematurely and not get their complete life duration to live. He wanted to give people every second of their lives so that they could do a good deed, so that they could repent and not have to come to such a poignant place. The smoke cleared his head, sobered him down. He had left drinking ever since his wife had left him. Though he had tried to hold on to her on virtue of his being the sole authority of this inferno, he had let her go realizing all the powers of hell were not enough to please a women when she did not love you, for hell hath no fury like a woman scorn’d. Ah! The happy moments he had with his wife still lingered fresh in his mind, her sweet smell, and her rosy lips all felt so delightful in such a place. He wished he had not been so busy back then with all that job of re-arranging everything in hell. How he wished she could be here. That someone cared for him was all he longed for in this inferno.

A knock on the door woke him up from his day dreaming, and Mephisto walked in announcing that his daily speech was due in 15 minutes. The routine speech about repentance, to give the poor souls one more chance to make it to heaven, was one of the most interesting times of his daily fixture.He could act the way he was meant to be, a lone soul with a wosh to help others. He stood up from his armchair with a sigh and walked out of the room, with a sly smile on his face for that was what the crowd expected from him and as was very well known in private circles he always kept what he promised. He gently closed the door of the room leaving behind him his feelings for he knew they were safely locked in. No one cared, and he knew he wasn’t worth being cared about.