Jee aur aieee k sadme k mare ** jte h anjne anokhe unvrsts k hawale,nya clg nya jgh nye dost sb kch hta h nw nw,clg k strtng s hr ksi k dil m hta h rgng ka dar....2nd yr m cnr bnne ka hta h sbko gurur,frnds kai grp m bat jte h,hr koi dkhte h nye luks m,3rd yr m sbko ati h apni jimedari ka ahsas aur fnl yr ata h dston m fasle bdhte h...rah dkhe the is din k kbse,age k sapne saja rkhe the njane kbse,sb bde utavle the yhn se jne ko,zndgi ko dusre trke se dkhne ko....pr njane aj dil m kch aur he ata h,piche ja k waqt ko rok k apne andr sare lmhe ko samet lne ka jee krta h....at d strtng f btech kha krte the bdi muskil s y 4 sal bitenge lkn kse pta tha y sb chd k jne ka mn ni krga...na vulne wali kch yadein reh *** o yadein jo ab jine ka sahara bn ***...na jne aj q un palon k yad bht ati h jin baton ko lekar tab rote the ,aj un palon ko yad kar bht hsi ati h....y sch k ankhein nam ** jte h k mri tang ab kn kncha krga,m apne bton s kska sar khaungi,pranks ksk 7 krngi,ab mjhe kn itna jhlga,ksk smne ntnki krngi,jin dst p lakh kurban whn 1 rupye k ly  kn ldhnge,kaun rat vr bina soye bt krga,kaun bina pche 1 dusre ka chj istml krga,kaun nya nm rkhga,bina ksi bt k m ab ksse ldhungi,bina ks tpc k fal2 bt kn krga,bkws q kn krga,xam k ek din phle o tyri o rate,kn rat var 7 jag kr pdhga,kn fail hne p dilasa dlyga,y hasin pal ab ksk 7 jiungi....yad ati h o rec k choti si cntn bar bar jhn kch v ni mlta mre yar fr v na jane q hum gye hnge so bar...tum jse kmine dost khn mlnge jo khai m v dhaka de ayen sale srs mtr ko v joke m cnvrt kr de,par fr tmhe bachane khud v kud jye....mre hrkton se nakhro se jid s prsan kn hga ,ksk 7 brng lctrs jhlngi..bina mtlb k ksko v dkh kr pglon k trh hsna,na jne y fr kb hga....ky hm y sb fr krpaenge....bdy clbrt,ek h rm p bth k 1 dusre s wtsap p bt krna...rat k 3-4 bje khna pkana....bina ksi mtlb k rat ko chilana....mlk pina...pgl jse hrkt krna..mlk ghumna....kaun mjhe apni kabiliat pr vrosa aur jyda hawa m udne pr zamin p lyga....mre khusi m sch m khus kn hga,mre gam m mjhse jyda dukhi kn hga....keh do doston y dubara kb hga....dil m ek kasak hoti h jb hr ankhein nam hti h,fir mlne k wade se hm ek dusre se juda hte h,kv na akle rhne wle dost bas yadon k sahare zndgi bitate h....lkn jb v y clg k din yad ate h ankhon m hasin aur ansu ek 7 late h...engnr bnne k khusi v ansu rok na pai ,q k njr aa rai t doston s judai...ab jo hna tha o ** gya akhir m sbse juda ** h gye....aj v un palon ko yad kr k ansun rok ni pte h ....nkl he jte h...aur yuhi lkh lkh k apko pka rai hn....char sal yu he gye hmri beet..ab khn mlnge wo dost wo mit...dua krt hn sb k ly race y zndgi k jao tm jit....

We cannot
Talk
Because we seldom share
Language,
The token tongue,
But still,
We conquer –
Communicate.
We transmit
Smiles and fingers
Pointing towards
Needs,
Wants
And what’s, “next,”
Egg cakes, soy and tea
For the son she’d never
Expected –
He who’d lose a tooth,
He who’d hold her daughter,
He who'd love
Eternity.

Chalo ! Chalo aaj kuch esa kiya jae,

Apne Sapno ko Haqeeqat se Joda jae,

Ye dono 1 dusre se bilkul alag hai,

par dono hi apni kabiliyat ke liye mashoor hai,

Sapne, Sapne to Aasman hai, Jinki koi seema hi nahi,

Par Haqeeeqat to Aag se Bhare angaare hai, Jin par chal pana itna aasan nahi.

Sapne to woh raah hai, Jo hume kuch karne k liye prerit karti hai,

par haqeeqat, haqeeqat to un sapno ko bhi tod deti hai.

To kya ab haqeeqat ko dekhkr, sapne dekhna chod de,

ya apni khwaisho ke rukh ko hi mod le,

Agar Nahi, To fir chalo haqeeqat ko swikarte hai,

Apne sapno ko haqeeqat banane me jutt jate hai,

Mehnat kar apni kabiliyat ke rang sajate hai,

Apne sapno ko apni Manjil tak lekar jate hai,

Apne khwabo ke pankho ko or feltate hai,

Thoda Haste hai, Thoda hasate hai,

Chalo na !!!

Apni zindagi ko thoda or kamyab banate hai !!!!..

Written By :
SHIVAM PORWAL

Black
Empty cans
No liquid evaporated
In the air full of pride
Polluted grains of soul
Lost their consistency
Pure fluids of light
Erupts as marshmallow bombs
Death squad penetrates deeply
Aiming to meet Anubis
A Tsunami whirled its wish
Passion and glutton declared independence
The dream of becoming a parallel nation
To co-habit with leukemia of creativity
A *** drive 4×4 retired
A crippled veteran of passion
Bags for the mercy of soulless utilitarian army of human entity
Better said plankton a ****-plankton of miserable creatures
Even worms and larva are disgusted by our hatred
*****, a skunk of fear
An eclipse of love that spans for ages
From birth to death
A spectrum displays its ripeness
******* liberty as blast
A dazzling dance of shaped and amoeboid forms of manifestation
Truth
Bitter the honey with suffer
Powder a chamomile with royal jelly and ginseng
All of sudden a wind blows
Spores of the old pines
White
The soul of parallel nation of Angeloid
Is striving pleasure of life?
Lives now
Perpetually woofs a rainbow muslin with
the divine light
Inter-woofed dress
Newborn immaculate fellows
Perfuming
Oh those smell of paradise
Mint, Neroli, Oakmoss, Amber
A bouquet of divine pleasure
And Acacia kissed by a queen bee
Yes the queen of Enneagram
Of course
The work produces sweet essences
Oh Sarmouni of our Millennia
Melt the cataract-ic lance so they may see the beauty
Heal the flu so they may smell fresh ozone
A charged circle of light and love
Overwhelm
Remove the pulp from the reed
So may divine tune perform light?
Tao
May be your torchbearer
In the dark valley and by then you may
see a spectrum
That encircles an infant fear
For an eternal life
Yet I kiss that that time sequence
Where Jin and Jang harmoniously co-habit
I a Feng Shui of Love
Defragmenter of hate’s files
Zipper of dark matrixes
Arranger
So you may know they do exists
So you try them in order to enjoy the sweetness
of life’s honey
In this porcelain valley
Where goodness and mischief
Hand in hand are gliding furiously
Alas pure the morning with dew of love
Oxidize hate with apple vinegar
Sing to celebrate both solstices and have a cup of vine
That swoon you
That filters all starry
Cells of brain and ganglia
Perfume her navel with rosewater and kiss, kiss, kiss
Do a divine Tantra
With all visible and invisible and semi-visible spirits
Kiss topaz of her eyes
Kiss ruby of her heart
Kiss diamond of her nail
Kiss cooper of her feet ankle
Kiss jade of her bones
Kiss sapphire of her cells
And a flame-y waterfall of hair
And a silky *****…
Oh…kiss and kiss and kiss whatever belongs to her
Make her a necklace
With your purest and noblest spermatozoids
Then call her as you wish
Wisdom, Hikkmah, Sophia
Or simply Goddess that makes you Angeloid.
—-
Arabic for wisdom, we disregard language we are concentrated
on substance on quint essence
Greek for wisdom

You don’t like being touched so we don’t hug. Hugging is weird. Affection is weird but you’ll send me pick up lines like you’re a guy at the bar and I’m the girl you’re trying to take home for the night. People tell us we should just get married ‘cause I know I’ll never find someone who will treat me right like you do. We’d be lesbians, except you’re on the hunt for tail and I’m not into you like that.

When you were 11 and I was 13, people used to think we were sisters because we looked alike. I used to think you were kind of weird (but I think over the years it’s gotten worse) and now your weirdness just adds to your charm. I’m not sure what I was thinking the first 3 or 4 years of our friendship when I decided that there were other people who were more important than you, but I’m glad I learned my lesson. There’s only one person in this world who will sit in my car with me for 10 minutes while I cry and bring me eyeliner without a question and that’s you.

We’re not the inseparable set of friends where we have to go everywhere with each other, be everywhere with each other and be attached to the hip because God knows we’d be so sick of each other by the end of the day but I’m glad we’re the kind to be real with each other and not be butthurt. If you tell me I look fat in something, I’ll tell you that you look worse. We call each other names but we’ll still stay married on Facebook. We talk once, maybe twice a day but we (almost) always pick up each other’s phone calls when needed because sometimes I just need to hear the comfort of your voice. We’re a long distance relationship without the miss-you ***.

I’m not sure how often I tell you this but here it is again: i love you and I’m glad you’re in my life. I don’t like calling people my best friend because it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth but you’re my best friend and it took me nearly 8 years now to have it finally hit because when I’m crying, when my heart is broken, when I’m stressed out, or when I have some really great news, you’re the first to hear it. And probably the greatest part is that I’m not anything less with you.

You’re the kinda chick where you ogle numbers and numbers of guys on end but is too shy to actually say anything because contrary to what everyone else thinks, I know all you want is to be loved for who you are and one day, you’ll find someone who will do that for you. And until then, I’ll fill in his space the best I can (mostly because I’m missing a pretty vital ***** otherwise we’d be mates for life). Sometimes you can be steadfastly cool. Sometimes I’m embarrassed to be seen in public with you. But most of the time it’s both and it’s what makes being with you different from being around anyone else.

Aside from this weird burst of affection I have for you, you’re probably off somewhere getting drunk off your *** and you’ll be texting me the next day telling me how drunk you were last night and I’ll laugh because you’re an alcoholic in the making and that’s just the kind of people we are with each other. It’s just nice to have someone who’s been there through the good, the bad, and the ugly and still be able to call my friend. We don’t judge each other even though you have more dirt on me than my own parents do.

Once gay marriage becomes legal in Texas, I know we’re gonna get hitched and raise some dope lookin’ children while we sit in Jin’s Korean bbq and scrounge for babes and convince them to date us.

I wanted to give my mom a home, one befitting of her love and kindness, one that would resonate her love and generosity one not made of cheap bricks of clay
A home where no rent is paid cause she is the landlady, one that exude class and comfort at any given time of the day
A home whose roof isn't made with thatch and bamboo that is soon to be ready to tinder or poorly baked bricks whose cracks offer shelter to lizards and rodents as they grow older
I wanted to give my dad a house made only of the finest stones and building materials
One whose landscape when you see will take your breath away and with it's exquisite recreational area

I worked hard to make and save money. I toiled and toiled oblivious to when the nights turned to day
So the best architects for the plan and sketches upfront I'd pay, survey and purchase a piece of land without delay

The foundation was laid, the harder I worked the faster I watched as the builders beautifully the edifice raised
And when I took my mom one day so see the level of progress we had made, she wouldn't stop showering me with thanks and praise
For the hard work and struggled I had put in to see
A house so beautiful a home to them was soon to be

I smiled as I inspected the furnished house as I proudly said to myself surely "This would make the best home yet for mom and dad"

Sweetly I slept until a loud noise startled me as I was awakened to the sound of sophisticated guns and bombs
I feared for my life as I clutched my knees with my arms trembling, my eyes closed, too scared to pray
The uproar was replaced with a disturbing silence as morning came and still petrified by fear I knew I had to go check the place where the house I built for my parents stood even though my life I knew I would be risking. Well, if I didn't I'm certain curiosity would have killed me either way.
So I ran out and called out to an "Okada"
He asked where I was heading to and I said Farin Gada
"Farin Gada, yarinya? Ba ki jin tsoron rain ki?" He queried in Hausa
So I explained to him that indeed I feared for my life but just needed to check the new high rising estate around that area if it was lucky enough to go unscathed.
He stared at me with worry in his eyes and motioned that I hop on his bike.
It was still very early when I got there and I jumped off his bike before he even stopped it's engine and ran to the place where the newly built house once stood like a maniac looking around, wondering if maybe I had forgotten the address to the place I had visited regularly in the last two years or if someone had moved it to a more secure location for me. I broke down. My eyes rained as my voice thundered through the rubble.
"Tashi in Kai ki gida" I heard the Okada man call out in Hausa. "Is no sape por this flace yi hakuri"
Reluctantly I got up moving slowly through the remains of my parents newly demolished home staring back at the place even as we rode away. The place I invested years of hardwork in order to see my loved ones lay in comfort as they stay "secured".
I broke down again when I tried to tell mom and dad the news and all my dad said as he tapped my back softly was, "hmmm... Mu Seyil Nen Rit, for it could have been worse but for God"
I had a lot to say but I was tongue tied. Our rent was due the next month with no certainty of a means to raise the money to pay up cause we had finished "our own house" and I had resigned from my place of work to run the supermarket I had opened beside the new edifice.
We had stocked the house with provisions and resources that won't run dry for months to come, everything was smooth and perfect until the terrorists attacked..
We were back at zero with no deed or title to our family name.
I was back to sharing the toilet with the other room and our guests and had to share the compound with our lousy neighbor who claims to be a "Pastor"
Mom's warm and gentle arms jolted me back to reality as she held me and said " we appreciate the time, resources, love and effort you put into this project" I cried out and said " it wasn't just a mere project mama, it was your home! A token of my gratitude for your love and selflessness and all the sacrifices you and dad made to make me what I have become"
I heard her sigh as she lifted up my face so I'd look into her eyes as she gently whispered to me"home isn't where bur who" a home isn't broken by plenty or lack, rumors or wars...
So baby do you know who my home is?"
I shook my head side to side as she continued, "it is you, your dad, your siblings, my grandchildren and all whom I have come to love.
I frowned, a little confused with some many questions running through my mind then she kissed my forehead and said "Ritjimwa, Home isn't a place where your heart leaves even when your feet does; Home is where the heart is and my home, is right here in your heart...
26022014
17:45
r3d

Freeing my life force
unblocking meridians
energy balanced