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Deep May 8
Sweat drenched bodies tangled snake
like, lips entwined like pair of swans.
One palm grasping the waist
Other holding the mound on chest
Like some ruthless dictator holding humanity.
Traverse on my body’s conduits, beloved!
Regale, relish, feast in its twists and turns,
And with your lips map the boundary
of your kingdom lying conquered in your bed.

With your mighty sword ravage
The territory of yours so long sealed,
Enter in it and let the din and moans to
not melt your heart. Be relentless
and unmerciful—press, pinch, bite,
Spike, goad, tease— make me beg then
Hurl like hurricane swirling in longing
and hunger, subdue only after taking me.

A night in your arms I want, beloved!
Gratify the five senses, bless me the bliss
of life this night. And with your
Measuring tape measure me inch by inch
Touch me those little places I haven’t
touched before, kiss me recklessly
And when you think its time enough
Then rain the seed of your love like farmer
Over my fecund body of field,
So that in time a flower of this
Night spring and wave and smile
in gentle breeze.

Only, a night in your arms I want, beloved!
A night in your arms is all I want!
Deep Apr 2
How difficult it feels to come here
and write. The first day, it was voluntary
now I am forcing myself to this task.

Poetry comes naturally to us
it cannot be forced
And I will not force myself.

Repetition is suffocating.

News of doctors, who went to check on the
patients was attacked by a mob. Very disturbing.
Like attacking the very person who brought elixir.

suffocation...
torment...
fear...
is
taking
over...
Deep Apr 1
01-04-2020   23:30

It is said that "the greatest discovery that humans
made was Language."
It was really a shocking thing to read that quote,
because at first, it sounds trifle.
But giving it a second thought one feels the gravity.
How will you express you are hungry?
by rubbing tummy? gesturing to mouth?
but there are the infinite meaning of every gesture.

No new thoughts to offer today,
My mind is drying up living in this room.
I go out to buy milk for five minutes,
and again back to the room.
How senile life has become.

But analysing this stop that Nature has forced upon us,
It is making up for another thirty or forty years,
We were reckless before, now confined in a room realizing
the little things that we didn't appreciate and checked on,
The spendthrift hand devouring the limited resources,
is now caged in-home hands tied.

Still, some will never change. As soon as this will be over
We will again repeat the same old mistakes.
We are slave to our habits.

Yesterday I wrote a paragraph on "dying of Poetry"
Now I see it as a paradox.
I am here, which is meant for poetry,
Writing a rant.
Sometimes we are wholly unable to see the both sides
of a coin.

Pretty late,
Good Night!
Deep Mar 31
31-04-2010      23:00

The mind is blank today. Thoughts are disconnected,
Disconnected thoughts were the trouble Poets faced
after WWI and WWII.
Oh, do not believe me, just read
T S Eliot's,
"The Love Song Of J Alfred Prufrock".

It is said that the moment you are laughing there is
the person crying at the same time.  
Not only Nature's resources but everything that inhibits this
world is in limited quantity. Be it Nature's or created by us.

Everth tiny to a giant thing taking space on this earth possess
a special value.
And copying that we created our system and governance.
Before this crisis, we had taken some professions very lightly
We have taken them granted.
But now when the tonnes of Arsenal, Ballistic Missiles,
and millions of soldiers are overtaken by another profession--
The profession which earlier was taken seriously when
the particular catastrophe fell on a single-family.
But when that catastrophe increase in magnitude then
we realize what have we done.
Yes, It is true, we see what the people
in power want us to see.

Half of the countries budget is allocated to defense. Though it is
one of the pillars that maintain stability in society,
Countries cannot compromise other sectors.
And I think this will open their eyes, at least for a moment,
And they will work on it.

Stories are coming out, doctors falling on the line of duty.
They isolate returning home,
And the shortage of protective gears is not slackening
them from performing their duty.
So, why are they doing this? Is it Hippocratic Oath?
Or something else?
If a person is dying and the art or any artistry you know that
can save his life,
Will you do it? Alright, now, if you know that there is a chance of getting the same thing yourself, will you do it?

Am I fully aware of grim reality or
I write what I see and read?
If it is true then where are my original thoughts?

It is again a chance to realize that nothing is trivial in this world.
We have the use of ant as well as elephant, equally, without any
classification or superiority.

Every profession is required to maintain a fine balance in the world.

Somewhere I have read or heard I couldn't remember correctly,
But it said that poetry is dying.
It was hard to believe, but it was a fact.
I being a literary student did not remember any contemporary
English poet in my country.
How sad it seems.

But there is another way to look this dying of poetry,
Maybe our lives have so eased, engulfed with appurtenances,
Our lives have grown too fast that we give up on things
that take more than five seconds.
In other words, our generation is impatient.
The availability of things in one touch has reduced their mind
And I proclaim, tomorrow there will be Devices and gadgets
that will do the brains work and we like animals
sleep and eat.

Or we can say that our generation is not suffering enough
to take recluse to poetry.
Poetry comes from suffering
And the best poetry had come from the worst of times.

Time flew fast! Whew!
One hour passed like ten minutes.
Indeed, writing is therapeutic!

Good Night!
Deep Mar 30
30-03-2020   23:28

Has anyone had an iota of an inkling wishing Happy New Year
That this year will not bring happiness but its opposite.

DESCARTES had commented that man is the
"The master and proprietor of nature,”
Now when nature is purging and affirming its omnipotence,
Would Descartes locked in his home following social distancing
stand by his comment?

It was day three, the grapevines growing like wildfire and
had in its content, maybe the lockdown days could extend.
Who knows? But at these catastrophic situations, one wants the comfort of one's family but being indecisive I repent heavily for
my mistake of not going back home in time.

Today while writing my assignment (Height of optimism)
I stumbled on the
definition of TRUTH which Nietzsche had given--

"Truths are illusions about which one has forgotten that they are illusion."

And this is further extended by FOUCAULT,

"No such thing as truth exists, we consider Truth which those in power want us to perceive as truth. Truth is fabricated like the clothes we wear and discarded when shabby."

Now again, MARX gives another theory ALIENATION--

In it we find us estranged from the important events and decisions that affect our lives. Those who made decisions for us can fabricate any narrative because we don't have any means to find what happened behind the closed doors, we are left nothing but to accept it.

Can we fit "Truth and Alienation" in our world?
The mind is like a street dog wandering aimlessly and barking on the moving shadows. Can shadow exist without a body?

In the moments of this crisis, I still see the glimpse of politics
For some, it is an advantage
For some, a nightmare
Few are making profits
Few giving up everything to help others

Whatever it is, the observation of King of Brobdingnag on the human race in the GULLIVER'S TRAVELS is sempiternal--

"I cannot but conclude that the Bulk of your Natives, to be the most pernicious Race of little odious Vermin that Nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the Earth.”

Good Night!
Deep Mar 29
29-03-2020  23:49

Seven hundred kilometre away from my home,
Constant depressing news each morning,
I in this solitary city of Delhi speculate for the future.
I now feel what it meant to be free,
And what freedom meant for those who were enslaved for thousand years,
And why they fought ****** wars to get it.
It was all bestowed on me and now I realize.
Staying home all day by one's own volition
Is not similar to being ordered to stay home.
But why I complain about the necessity.
When Socrates was asked, "What does a man learn in his life?"
He replied, "Complaining, Glaucon."

I don't know when all of this will subside
What and who will be spared to read this, like I used to read
All the ****** wars in history-
WWI and WWII, recessions, depression.
Now I feel the psyche of people after WWII
And why Existential Philosophy evolved from it.

Going out to buy essentials is like walking on a tight rope
only a touch here and there and you will fall in the abyss.
Yesterday, I heard the news, a man locked for two days came
running down the street naked and bit a woman to death.
Will our psyche be affected by it?
What changes these days will breed in us?
The exodus of migrants are walking back to home amid lockdown
and walking not for 20-30km but 200-600km.
The fear not only of dying with the disease but of hunger, malnutrition is looming in the remote villages.

Turn your neck whichever way,
the talks of this disease everywhere.
How did the dark ages fight the plague?
A few weeks ago, reading the plays of Shakespeare,
I read in the introduction
Theatres were closed for two years because of Black death.
How trivial it looked to me reading from the distance of five hundred years.
But now when I see the cinema, parks, roads, rails, airways, closed in my own world-- I feel the magnitude of loss.
Have we really progressed?
Will the future generations will read this the same way I did?
Yes, Distance dampens the magnitude.
It's pretty late now, perhaps I should sleep now.
This quote
of Whitman is ringing in my head--

"How all times mischoose the objects of their adulation and re-
ward,
And how the same inexorable price must still be paid for the same
great purchase."

Good Night!
Deep Mar 22
'Eternal Return'? Why?
If things will keep recurring why is so much exertion?
Would I share a gleeful laugh and cry a passionate cry
Knowing  the same happiness and sorrows will recur
again and again?
It took years to reach a summit, toiling and crawling,
A slight imbalance, and again we are hurled to the beginning.
Is, Sisyphus, only a mythical figure? If yes,
Then, why I see him in me?

Take a handful of men of bygone days, and contrast with
Our time, drop the embellishments of each century,
And see the patterns that emerge, ask them, what were the new ways
That helped to curb pain, answer;
"Slowly the pain is eased but increased the suffering."
Are pain and suffering different?

When was the last time you loved someone?
Do you remember the days after they were gone? Yes?
Then, why are you in love again?
And most importantly, whom are you in love with?
The person or the suffering they bring?

If Everything recurs 'ad infinitum',
Then can we avert the things already occurred
In past, from occurring again?
Or we have lost the aptitude for resemblances?
Invention demands an offering of natural ability.
Have we gained half of we lost?
What is the tipping point for this offering and trade?

It's good I do not have to worry much,
For me, the world ends the day I die.
Theory of ETERNAL RETURN promoted by Nietzsche that says things will keep recurring again and again.
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