Thursday, August 27, 2009

Gone With The Wind

Once upon a time there was a town not too far from Gorakhpur named ‘shanti land’. The legend goes that the wind use to blow their so hard that not only objects but even children blew away with it. Sometimes even the elderly people were unfortunate enough to get trapped in its grasp. It was not like one of those sudden catastrophic events which occur once in every ten years. This had become more of a daily routine for them. People who blew away were never seen again except for that one single utmost legendary day when manohar’s dad was seen twirling and swirling in the wind and then he was gone. I think he was transported to Oklahoma.
Now that people knew that this wind was their fate they took necessary precautions. Mothers tied their children to the trees with a rope when they use to go out to fetch water from the nearby common well. Sometimes the mothers tied the rope so hard that children died of suffocation. But the winds were blamed for these deaths. As the panchayat was the only authority in shanti land the elderly panchayat members gave the reason that,”yeh hawa ne to iss bachhe ki hawa he udda di(this wind blew the wind out of this kid)”.fathers hammered four king size nails on the four corners of their houses. The whole town use to go together to celebrate diwali and when they came back some of the families houses were gone with the wind forever. Sometimes four children use to go out and play and when they came back only three came. The smallest one disappeared forever into eternity.
After 20 years there is no sign of this wind anymore. But still you can feel the weakening power of that wind. It can now blow only small objects like nails, toothbrush or sometimes even cockroaches. Even though this wind is no more than a breeze when compared to the wind which blew 20 years ago this legend will remain embedded in the minds of their great grandchildren forever.
Yes you can say that this event caused lot of destruction but still life goes on and so did the lives of those people who were once a part of the legendary “shanti land”.

“When the times are dark you will find light in something far smaller then a light bulb. A ray of hope”

Work Of A Genious

He could touch the souls of people by his mind and tell whether it was black or white. He never gave any reasons, no elaborate answers just black or white. I still don’t know why people use to go there and why did I go in the first place but the truth is not a day goes by when I don’t regret my decision. Some memories become hazy with time but this was not an ordinary memory. It didn’t bring any change; hell you can say it destroyed me forever.
White was the word that came out of his mouth. I asked him again, told him that I think he made a mistake. He didn’t say anything not even a single word. I knew just looking into his eyes that this was his final answer and that you should leave him alone and never comeback. I never came back.
There was no need to come back. This was the last time he gave his verdict to anyone. I killed him. He laid there covered in his own dirty blood. His eyes were still open and they were looking at me. Still the answer was white. I stabbed him again and again and again. The answer never changed. It never will.
In my 40 years of life I committed not even a single crime. I was a good son, husband and a father. Never tried smoking, drinking, gambling to the point where I went bankrupt to help my relatives.
I worked hard. Each and every hour of my college life was dedicated to just one thing. I wanted to become a pilot. I wanted to touch the sky free like a bird. I could never become one. Dream once shattered cannot be fulfilled again. So I killed him. There was no relation between me killing him and not able to fulfill my dream. I thought why not give the black soul a try.

“Don’t kill a man. Kill his dream. He won’t die but there would be suffering for life”

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Stapler Bound

Once upon a time there was a boy named Jack. He was a complete psycho case from the word go. At the age of 11 he shoved a pencil down his classmate’s ass so far that it took 2 nurses and 3 doctors to extract that sucker out. That day onwards the whole school started calling him as ‘jacko cracko’. When the principal inquired that why he performed such an act just three words came out of his mouth “he told me, “Which made no sense at all. He was suspended for fifteen days and a black mark for life. Student kept referring to him as ‘jacko cracko’ but only behind his back. No one even dared to call him that even if he was just passing by from the other side of the school.
Stapler bound elementary school was kind of one of those money making organizations where there top priority was to teach the children the least and absorb each and every penny from their parents till they turn bankrupt and shift to a public school. It looked more like a haunted even during the day time. It was covered with long branches from top to bottom as the botany department was situated on the roof. Gate leading to the roof was out of bounds. But locks had always been like a knife cutting through butter for jack. He use to always come at night and just stand at the edge of the roof with both hands outstretched as if asking someone to embrace him, take him in her arms so that he could feel the warmth of a body.
The ‘ass shoving’ day was just the beginning to something far more destructive then a boy’s two hole ass. Everyone thought that the fifteen days suspension acted like a miracle changing period for jack. He was always mesmerized in his thoughts. But it was not a confused 11 year old's look which always rounds up to that puberty period where suddenly hair starts to grow as branches of trees and irritating girls start to look more like angels transported to earth just now by god. There was something else in his eyes as if working on a plan trying to arrange the pieces of a puzzle. Sometime later in the year when winter arrived and not for ever but for some time turned that haunted mansion into something that looked more like a place inhabited by the elf’s of Santa Claus something happened that turned the knob of attention back to jack. Even after so many years students still talk about that day but in whispers as if it is bound to a curse if someone says aloud then he too would go insane. It was so cold that day that even the Eskimos would have died of freezing. But as the students of stapler bound elementary school were always high they thought that it was because of that new sandalwood pipe which was sold to everyone by our very own dumb as hell jock jimmy Moore. jimmy was one of those guys who’s parents didn’t give a shit about their child and encouraged him to take drugs as they too were drug dealers and thought why not expand their business to the school level also after all who doesn’t like marijuana. Jimmy at 6”5 was huge and kinder garden students thought that he ran a factory of chests on his body. But he was not one of those I-will-kick-your-ass-for-no-reason types. He just minded his own business never attended any classes and sold drugs at premium costs and no theft in the quantity. Overall yeah you can say that he was a goner and would die of overdose someday in a lousy “10x15” apartment alone. But he was kind hearted and sold exceptionally miraculous marijuana. He went insane that very Christmas.

To Be Continued.....

Thursday, August 20, 2009


Round we go night after night,

Two little kids went out of sight,

Her mother found sitting between them,

Unperturbed by her thoughts singing a lullaby for them,

“Sleep little angels with the moon and the stars,

Consume yourself into the darkness,

Shards of glass pierced into your hearts,

Breathe no more my little angels,

Wings of my love will take you far”,

Far away from the people who think you both are prettier than me,

How beautiful the kids are of an ugly bitch is hard to believe,

Let me add some shine to your two pretty little faces,

It’s hard for me to admire your faces the way it is,

Come closer to your mother my pretty little angels,

Let me a draw a picture for you my sweet little angels,

I will try to do this as slow as possible,

Let you have the taste of the pain shining on your faces,

Here my little angels I have brought a present for you,

All the nightmares of your tiny-winy life are about to come true,

I will hammer the nails one by one; I will take my time,

Let me just admire my work and keep on nailing till the box gets over,

After all the entire box at the utility store cost me full one dime.


Even after fifteen years you can hear the two little kids play,

Their mother was found nailed 45 times to the merry-go-round,

In that same old park you can still hear that sound,

But now the kids sing a lullaby for their mother,

“Two little kids on the merry-go-round,

What fun we had when we nailed that old bitch to the ground”.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Coffee Table

Drawing your face on a foggy mirror,

Keep looking at it makes me shiver,

Even if you are sitting beside me,

Can’t keep looking at you forever,

Makes me feel that you will disappear,

Droplets of morning dew in the palm of your hands,

Begging to stay there for a while,

Just to perish in the air with the feel of your skin,

Tinge of that red on your cheeks,

The way you smile when you look at me,

Makes all of this seem like a miracle,

Nibble your ears for while caress your hair a little,

When you get angry makes this world glitter,

Forces this world to blush for you a little,

If only all this was true for a while,

It could ease my pain,

Let me just stop thinking about her for a mile,

I keep coming back for her,

Don’t know how many years have just gone by,

Staring at her from that same coffee table,

Hoping that she does the same for me,

Comes here every day just to look at me,

If I could just freeze in time with her,

Take a picture of her so that I can make sure every day,

That someone so beautiful like her exists in this world,

Even if she never comes to know that I love her,

I will walk that mile for the rest of my life,

Just to see her smile thinking of someone,

From that same coffee table.

Friday, August 7, 2009

In The Name Of JESUS

People say praying helps you, heals all your pains,

Even if you have raped someone praying clears all your stains,

Drenched in blood take the blessings of the mighty lord,

Commit every damn crime in the world and wash your hands in the name of the lord,

One hand carrying bible and the other hand performing all the atrocities shoved behind,

Wash your hands in front of the almighty; they think that lord stopped minding long time back,

I don’t think heaven or hell exists because hell would have overflowed by now,

God switched the name plate of hell and earth as hell looked more like heaven when compared to earth,

War, suffering, hatred, misery trigger atom bombs burn each other out,

Kill each and every person turn yourself to dust till there’s silence no one else remaining to shout,

People say natural calamity would be the cause when doomsday arrives,

I think people brought their own end when the river of greed started running through their veins,

I think when god created this universe he took his time, sacrificed everything that he had,

But human beings find joy in destroying something beautiful labeling it as god’s work,

He didn’t create anything after this,

I think he went blind long time back.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Tale Of Happiness

I live in a world of fantasy where tales of happiness are told,

Where elders and children sit together under the tree of oak,

Where the moon and the stars try to outshine each other,

Moon borrowing the brightness from the sun for that day,

Absorbing each and every rays of the sun leaving it broke.

Where the elders sing the songs of happiness of freedom,

There’s no grief no misery no pain in my world to show.

We celebrate this day as the day when the forest looks divine,

The day each and every leaf of the two hundred oak trees shines,

Our elders call it as god’s miracle but according to me this is something else,

A phenomenon so gigantic that you cannot explain it in words,

You can just admire it; feel its beauty through your eyes,

Don’t know if it’s god’s miracle or not but there is someone,

Someone so beautiful that even nature blushes,

Showing the colors of love and affection not able to keep its feelings inside,

In my world there is no hatred no animosity just two friends sitting together,

One is love and the other is hate rejoicing their friendship under the shimmering blue sky,

In this world my dad tells me I would never leave you my son with that joy in his eyes,

I just hope I don’t wake up from my coma,

I hope that I never see the sun rise.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Heart Snatcher:The Series Part I

Look into your heart and tell me what you see,

Is it shattered, broken, aching to be free?

Rest in peace my friend it’s time to get deceived,

They call me’ the heart snatcher’ found in the depths of your dreams,

I’ll make sure that you wiggle, toss, turn, cry when you sleep,

I’m the one, who ejects misery in your heart making it crumble to pieces,

Shimmering streams of gold running through your veins,

Choking all your senses till your last breathe seizes.

I was born from the remains of my own body,

Resurrecting like a phoenix betraying the rules of the almighty,

My body was purely made of hatred, revenge and animosity,

I was born without a heart again betraying the rules of a normal human body,

I died the minute I was born, burned down left to rot with the remains of the unholy ground,

Born, died and again rose from the ashes to break the unwritten laws of nature,

I rip their hearts out leave their souls to wander, they call me ‘the heart snatcher’.

To Be Continued.....