I know you, you know me
We are one and the same
So how do you fight yourself
When it's a never-ending game?

Everything I do,
He counteracts as I expect
And every dark, insidious move he makes
Is a struggle to reject

When I was always told
That I'm not good enough
As a young kid I handled it well
I just shrugged it off

So when did opinions start mattering?
When did I become so influenced?
Was it opportunity, coincidence
Or some other, unknown incident?

How I've battled for so long
I guess remains an enigma
Even to the one in concern
Raises a puzzling air, a stigma

Myself, my misery, a mystery
Decipher it if you can
For the nine years I've tried so hard
Yet I still don't *understand

My love your words are knives
Broken arrows impaled in my side

Don't leave me alone with my thoughts,
they're eating me, tormenting me, they're at the centre of every battle I've fought.
Don't leave me alone with my family,
they're living out their dreams through me and I'm so scared to let them down.
Don't leave me alone, don't let me go, don't let me drown.

See the best in me,
And always pray for me:
Within, is a battle for my soul,
Without, is me trying to break free;

I have hurt too many,
And might hurt many more:
My guilt is too heavy,
I can't stand it anymore;

I hung out all night
With the dudes in my crew:
Been involved in deadly fights,
And killed not a few;

Too scared to sleep at night,
And too scared to see new days:
I only hope to see the light,
And not repeat of my old ways;

Dislike me all you want,
It's what i probably deserve:
I'm just a prey that demons hunt,
And bound to a purpose to serve;

I know you hate me,
And thats why i probably hate you:
You focus on the evil in me,
But not the evil that you also do;

Please do not see the pride in my words,
I am but a troubled man:
With a heart pierced by satan's swords,
And eyes too blind to discern;

Imagine how great i could be,
But see where i am now:
I was so sound mentally,
But see what i've become now;

So please do pray alot for me,
that my deliverance may come:
And when i shall become free,
I will do well to save some.

I woke up for the thousand time,
- a voice telling me it’s going to be ok -
And knowing that some days
all you need to conquer
                                       is yourself:
that space in you where new dreams are born,
that path taking you somewhere,
- the one filled with the craters of your fallen hopes -
But still leading you
to that corner of your soul
where not historical battles are won,
Just some battles. Yours.

(For better understanding read my poem Abhimanyu (part-1))
TRANSLATED BY KARISHMA JI (Thanks to her)


When Kurukshetra* was burning in the flames of war
God of death had opened his third eye
When the heads of men were being chopped
When Jackals were tearing apart the corpses on the ground


When blood thirsty men were waging war against themselves
When arrows notching the bow caused uncountable deaths
Goddess of war was dancing on mortal bodies
Wicked witches laughed at the loss of human lives

Laps of mothers were suddenly empty
Dust covered the parting of hair where vermilion was once applied
The fire which raged the whole nation – Bharat
Was the great war, known as Mahabharat


Earth was covered with blood and tears
Chariots overran the bodies of men
Warriors were trying to quench their greed
Trying to slake their bloodlust

These were the descendants of the same ancestor
Some were younger brothers and some were their elders
But brotherhood was sacrificed to statehood
Eyes shone only with passionate savagery

Kurukshetra – name of a battlefield
* Traditionally, Hindu women apply vermilion to a parting of their hair after marriage
** Mahabharat – an epic narrative of the battle of Kurukshetra

Get up.
Put on clean pants, a clean shirt.
Brush your teeth, god ******, and floss em
too.
I know, today the demons are howling
poison in a ceaseless ringing in your skull; every appendage aching heartily with each movement. Keep moving. Don't be
consumed by it. Don't listen.
Drink your morning coffee, have
your morning ****. Wipe til the paper runs clean.
Get up - go outside.
Breathe deep; count to a thousand, listen to the wind in the leaves and the honking of busy people that can't wait. Listen to the soft coo of morning doves and listen to the ceaseless coarsing of blood as it runs in circles throughout your body.
Watch birds float, intertwined in a back-and-forth that may be familiar. Watch them
swoop this way and that, pecking and chirping.
Get up.
I'm pleading, begging
please get up.
If not right now, if not today,
when?

so in pure
fabled fashion,
at the battle of Haldighati (1576),

Chetak, Maharana Pratap
astride, leapt across
a gaping betwixt two cliffs

and fatally injured,
died a hero,
that

400-odd years later
the Arabian steed
stands stone-cut in Jaipur,

the Maharana
urging him on
to battle,

Chetak,
all set to go
airborne...

Caught in a concoction of insanity
on the edge of reality madness jousts with sanity.
On one side taunted with a blackened stare,
Far over forms a light from a whispered prayer.
Isolated entities await the clash of spears,
while both riders rest among their fears.



.