See the glittering dress
then scroll up
meet the eyes
zoom in as much as you like
she’s clear as the winter sky
not a grain of distortion
she’s a sight for you to devour

She was eight days old when I first blinked
She had seen the sun
The nurses that bathe
The milking breast
The beautiful tired mother
The man with a *******

I didn’t know her then
She didn’t know me then
But when I came to being
She had already been there

She took the lead
And stretched it further
The eight day advantage had compounded
when we met for the first time
Almost 15 years after I was born
And I’ve been in awe ever since
I’ve always been
a hopeless puppy around her

Today I called her with a broken heart
And she showed me hers
Hers was broken too
She told me not to worry
I told her not to worry

She has chopped her hair now
And bruised her ego
But she’s still here
And I’m still here
We’re still breathing
And nothing else matters
We watch as the big yellow moon rises
Fills the hearts with love
With memories, with nostalgia

I hope when I finally go
She gets eight more glorious sunrises

A million children that could've been
A million children you've never seen
They're drying up in the towels
Rotting in the sewers
I've sprayed them on the walls
Wiped them on the curtains
They've gone down the willing throat
And in the public toilets they float
They are all racing
In the sewers
On the toilet seats
and the dripping walls
In a *****
On a lonely shore
They're racing  
Millions of them
Because they're programmed to race
To be THE one
To be first
To exist
And they're all dead
My million children that never were

And I laughed…
Nobody laughed back
I was laughing alone
There were eyes on me
I could feel a lot of eyes on me
Feeling me up
Lingering on parts of me
Some parts more than the others
The eyes soon got bored
Lost interest in me and my parts
They switched their attention
back to the customary dullness
However, every time a new pair of eyes set sight on me,
it lingered for a while
But they soon joined the rest
Eyes, many eyes, lots of 'em
I saw them looking
I sensed them looking
They wanted reason
They wanted a story
They wanted to see more than a happy face
It would cheer them up
Helped flush the blandness in?
They dug it out of my laughing face
while I was still alive
I didn’t have a reason now
But they didn’t care
They made it up
Each pair saw a different story
Some were similar, others distinct
Some saw varying proportions
of tragedy and insanity,
while others saw total madness
Some shared their imagination
while others kept it to themselves
Eyes, I wondered,
were funny little organs
They compelled the mighty brain
to think about what they saw,
every time they saw,
and they never stopped seeing.

I wanted to jump
A twelve foot fall wouldn't do much harm
Would probably break a bone or two
But would save me from a bigger fall

They would put me on the strongest legal narcos
I could spend a week or two
On the recliner bed in a TV room
With the nurses just a click away
Visitors would be a major pain
But the visits would cease in a couple of days
Then they would forget
or wash their guilt with a phone call

I was tempted to jump
They would call an ambulance
With blaring sirens and nervous men
And a poor soul stuck in the traffic
Would squeeze his vehicle in desperation
To make way for the ambulance
And his friend would go
"लगता है आज फिर किसी ने jump मार दी?"

It's a pity!
Those big beautiful eyes
stare at the impassive lens
that blink at the perfect moment

I wish they stared at me instead
I'd never blink
I'd never turn away
from captivating eyes that promise mystical worlds
I'd fight tears
for tears blur the sight

However, I am grateful
the digital eye blinked
The moment they shut
is the moment that was captured
And the one that mine can see
Always,
now even when they're shut.

A lot has been written about monotony
Here I’m only trying it from my vision
It won’t differ much from yours
But even monotony comes in different flavors
Mine is bland. Unimaginably bland.
So much, that I fear the day I spit it out,
it will leave me bitter
I make feeble attempts to break it
A lot like a fifty year old couple argue & fight
They are not trying to spice things up
Just sorting the disagreements and inconveniences that crop up, further strengthening their bond
Each one is a proven pain in the other's ***
But it is familiar, comforting pain
Losing track of the days that I lost
The days they come and go so fast
I’m preparing myself better for the days to come
‘Every new day is an opportunity lost. So you’ve got to seize every opportunity.' I was advised..
It was 00 hours when I woke up
from my untimely slumber to start
this new day on this new note
Although I’m skeptical of the meaning of new day
I don't think they meant it in the technical sense
The day they were referring to probably begins
when the sun shines so bright that it is hard
to keep your eyes closed and pretend to be asleep
In a semi awakened state,
you clasp your genitals,
then scratch them,
stroke your stiffness,
wipe the drooling mouth
or partake in other preferred activities
in any order you deem fit
and thereby amass the requisite energy
to seize the day by the *****
Me,? I’m not really a morning person
It takes a couple of hours for nausea to subdue
After I spat all the toothpaste residue
So I take this to be the start of yet another day which has begun,
and will roll,
with reasonable certainty,
just the same way as did yesterday
Or the day before
Or a day the week before
But I wasn’t here since the beginning of time
I grew from a microbe to a maniac
So I know this is just a phase that will pass
But I can’t seem to place
the beginning or end of it
Shedding hairs, bloating with worries and fat
I came to the sudden realization
that this will soon end
Whether I like it or not
Whether I force it or not
It will come to an end
Like every other thing that started
Here I am, waiting for it to unfold
Like the spectator I’ve always been,
passive with fear and with justifiable cowardice

We rode on the deserted roads,
through the expanse of humble abodes
We rode by the huts and the sheds,
by disconcerting poverty and dreads
Dogs barked
Televisions barked
We rode onto darkness,
to silence
The huts thinned out
Now it was only the growling motor
and the hooting owls
and the chirping crickets
The beer had warmed
But it was a cold night
She sipped, I swigged
The headlamp needed some fixing
The beams kissed treetops as I rode
into blind bumps and corners
On the left was a pretty sight
and it was a lonely night
So I turned left
and rode as far into the beach as I could
but here it was mostly sand
and the riding got out a little out of hand
the tires didn’t bite
but it was alright
I could see the waves
We were only a few meters away
This was a perfect getaway
Behind the bushes and the vines
Abetted by the palms and pines
I killed the motor
and put it on the stand
but it sunk in the sand
I tried to lift but it was heavy
She dragged me to the waves
I dragged her to the bushes

Her eyes twinkled
and the edges crinkled
as she smiled
and it soon got wild
I unbuttoned her shirt
and we kissed till it hurt
I struggled with the clasps
between the kisses and gasps
She was very kind
She didn’t mind
helping a man blinded
by the darkness of the night
and of his depraved soul
She helped me with the clasp
and stripped bare
without concern or care
She yanked my pants
and we did a tribal dance
drunk out of our wits
in the moonless ritz
there was rhythm in the air
and we both sensed it
The gentle slush of the wave
nudged us to save
and treasure the last drops of love
that we could have now
As we made slow love in the breeze
the world dribbled to ease
and we mated in the dark night
with the moon still out of sight

Headed out for some fun
basking in the sun
lay on the shore
you could hear the roar
the waves kept coming at you

caressing as they greet
they kissed your feet
bubbling with energy
gushing with fervour to meet
they brought crab & meat
when they kept coming at you

recurring and old
and sometimes cold
but every new one
growing increasingly bold
glittering with hope & twilight gold
as they kept coming at you

they peeked up your skirt
not that it hurt
only you didn’t come prepared
not that they cared
and they kept coming at you

running up your dress
they didn’t impress
bringing sand and dirt along
as they got steady and strong
the sand began to bite
so you sprang upright
to see more waves coming at you

probed by the prying eyes
getting tired of the lies
you decided to rise
to face the mighty tide
as you had nothing to hide
challenging the forces of the mystic
that kept pushing the waves at you

now that you knew
how the wind blew
you walked further in
to the sea as the sun
met your gaze
with its last bent rays
with the waves still coming at you

then came the big one
in the absence of sun
with such vastness it came
that no force could tame
you stood there frozen;
neither tied nor bound
yet you didn’t make a sound
and the other waves tried to reach you

rising with the high wave
oh! Such thrill it gave
being pushed up and high
just a few inches to the sky
you look down to see
the waves still chase
the now empty space.

A metallic heel,
six inches of steel
slowly piercing the skin
finding that gap
between the ribs

nobody ever dies of pain;
internal bleeding
and ***** failure follow
six inches of steel
as it's slowly dug in

आज खुद को किया खुदा से आज़ाद
ना माँगेंगे भीक ना करेंगे फ़रियाद
आज़ादी के जश्‍न में भी दिल में ये दुविधा
खुदा ने बनाया इंसान या इंसान ने खुदा?

Some days
Looking at urban wild
I have strange recollections
Of being a tall goat
Of finding the tender sweetness of a fresh leaf
And then finding the leftovers in the garbage pile
I feel alive
And ancient

Do you see it?
The days are melting
to form a soup
a soup of days
of distances
of possibilities
of memories
of the rays of light peeking under the dewy leaf
of the colours getting mixed

Do you experience the warmth
of the infinite possibilities
of a freedom that permits
You can quit
You can quit anything, anytime
does the freedom scare you?

Are you acting your part well?
or are you still confused about your role?
do you think your story adds?
do you really think there is anyone buying it?
Are you afraid
of having an overbearing identity
of not being consistent
of not being able to change because you worry too much about being consistent
of not seeing the end of the tunnel
or seeing it a little too soon

Are you haunted by a question?
Or did you lose the question?
Some of us lose faith
They find these enigmatic questions too romantic
they live on
without addressing anything
You’ve lost it too, haven’t you?
It is okay
The far side of the moon is just darker