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#delhi
Benzene ******** National awards, Quarter shorts, Vigyan boards. Yellow All Stars, Mint stamped salvers, Hoegaarden rounds, heart's shiver. Tactical olive, basement roar, Physics department, SDA store. Hello Kitty, Mama’s promise, Standard 2, No pants honest. Ma’am reporting, Stuttgart link, telemetry ping, Missing drink. Clandestine Ishita, CAD-iPad grind, Hotwheels vertical, Spatially blind. Basel biotech, Long-haul Rohan, Goldman snitch, Where’s the coon-man? Ishan’s roasts, Mumbai mics, Inglorious ******** Commando hikes. Surgical dolls, Bone plate screws, Bio-mech Barbies, Cyborg news. NCBS canteen, CTR butter, Drooling ******** Airport clutter. GSLV rockets, scaled pride, Gurgaon extension, Hauz khas ride. Coffee table books, Directors’ pride, One-two-three stacks, Nowhere to hide. Pecos pop-tart, Yum-Yum kiddo, Different kinda idiot, Coherent window. Co-driver vacuum, Untouched seat, Bending the world, At her feet. Final-Boss mama, Samosa clearance, Benzene chaos, Ma’am’s interference. GK Extension, Twenty-twenty-eight, Trash panda palace, Peaceful state. Monad stasis, Aphenomenal reality, National hero, Total fatality. No ****** No excuses, Pure entropy, Physics abuses. . . . Zeitgeist.. 🏆🚙🍺🎤
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 4:38 PM UTC
The Benzene entropy (A field report)..
17 hours ago, began this script, and now, now completed ~~~~ not much. 24 hour congestion. 24 hour car horn HONKING to paraphrase Paul Revere,* poet and silversmith, “one IF by day, but TWO if by night!” regarding his very famous poetry wrighting & trip riding… me two. me three, me four. Now Me Five. writing poem ‘five by night.’ find the time zone of your mind, when writing comes free and easy, abuse it greedily, merrily and happily fearfully, soaking sweating ——— poems ——— in a the great multitude willingly laddering the descending and the unwilling ascending, hordes of whirling dervishes of words whipping up frenzied flourishes, rippling ripping into the mind’s temple, merging, mining, blurring contradictory versions of visions struggle mightily to unravel, distinguish the overlapping of freshly dissembling poems, shocking, but not unusual, edging yet non~threatening, assembling and disassembling so far. a bridging of vast and minute differences, bloodied serenity, sets of scenery interchangeably, complicated schemes, or just one human action without ending, repeatedly repleting one tapestry over, and over feating and feting, all the while preconceiving the depleting inconceivable L00k how odd this presentation, of rattling battling schema infestations, interweaving, becoming connecting and yet indistinguishable one from two, two from three, number four say no more! but/and five refuses to be denied you? deny my dreamed reality? who? could blame you? but ask? the fermenting reader, Why? why would I foment tous? this rocky horror show now knightly revisiting reviving re~reincarnating tooting and now, you, are a guest at the carnival, at the fiesta theatrical, of my decored being and I witness you fleeing the scene… always, always leaving me to clean up my messes but the horns honking shrills still; heard continuously discontented, one more line wanting, wanting, insisting to be adding, needy... are finally defeated <fini>. Fri Apr 24 2026 3:41am <nml>.
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Apr 23
Apr 23, 2026 at 9:49 AM UTC
What is the difference between New Delhi and Manhattan? Now and Then? Here and There?
17 hours ago, began this script, and now, now completed ~~~~ not much. 24 hour congestion. 24 hour car horn HONKING to paraphrase Paul Revere,* poet and silversmith, “one IF by day, but TWO if by night!” regarding his very famous poetry wrighting & trip riding… me two. me three, me four. Now Me Five. writing poem ‘five by night.’ find the time zone of your mind, when writing comes free and easy, abuse it greedily, merrily and happily fearfully, soaking sweating ——— poems ——— in a the great multitude willingly laddering the descending and the unwilling ascending, hordes of whirling dervishes of words whipping up frenzied flourishes, rippling ripping into the mind’s temple, merging, mining, blurring contradictory versions of visions struggle mightily to unravel, distinguish the overlapping of freshly dissembling poems, shocking, but not unusual, edging yet non~threatening, assembling and disassembling so far. a bridging of vast and minute differences, bloodied serenity, sets of scenery interchangeably, complicated schemes, or just one human action without ending, repeatedly repleting one tapestry over, and over feating and feting, all the while preconceiving the depleting inconceivable L00k how odd this presentation, of rattling battling schema infestations, interweaving, becoming connecting and yet indistinguishable one from two, two from three, number four say no more! but/and five refuses to be denied you? deny my dreamed reality? who? could blame you? but ask? the fermenting reader, Why? why would I foment tous? this rocky horror show now knightly revisiting reviving re~reincarnating tooting and now, you, are a guest at the carnival, at the fiesta theatrical, of my decored being and I witness you fleeing the scene… always, always leaving me to clean up my messes but the horns honking shrills still; heard continuously discontented, one more line wanting, wanting, insisting to be adding, needy... are finally defeated <fini>. Fri Apr 24 2026 3:41am <nml>.
Continue reading...
72
World altered a lot But forgot to vendor a *** Manifestation of satisfaction seemed But oblivious to what they dreamed, At a crossroads they looked dead But never excluded their bed, Cows stayed in shed But never deviated from the normal fed, The fed made a well adorned bed, Lastly the culprits frightened And repeated same to falsely brighten.
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Mar 25
Mar 25, 2026 at 3:31 PM UTC
Archaic world
In this city where millions dream wake up dead, I've come with a dream to see you again.
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Sep 10, 2022
Sep 10, 2022 at 1:05 AM UTC
Delhi
the town i was born in wasn't big enough to contain the vastness of my dreams so i moved out i spent hours upon hours on the bank of river yamuna looking for a sign completely forgetting that a dead river can't speak i misunderstood its silence for an invitation so i moved in i traded my inner peace for smoke filled air and my innocence for the facade of a happy woman delhi, i spent years of my life trying to fit in to make sure that i belong then why do the stares on the streets tell me that i don't delhi why have you been so cruel to me like a failed mother forcing her expectations on her daughter no matter what i did i was never good enough every time i tried to speak you just didn't want to hear you're a city trying to hide its deafness from its people delhi why are you so unfair? you throw stones at the workers that build you and bow down at the feet of your destroyers maybe you're just as confused and tired as me people have taken more from you than you could give so you stand exhausted, defeated and short of breath and i do the same for both of us have failed miserably i could never be your daughter and you could never be my home
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Jul 31, 2020
Jul 31, 2020 at 7:44 AM UTC
Dear Delhi
Today I got her response, It was "12 AM" on the clock. There was no power in our block, It was the  STUDY room where I had to skulk; but the rain was pouring on the rocks. Oh! I forgot to thank my poetic kludge. I put my phone on charge and reply her back, with an appropriate emoji that match, and now we were exchanging words. That flirty nature of mine; Runs through the fingers when I had wine. many nasty and hasty thoughts were rising; and I had to made them extemporize, so that it matches her vibe. I asked her dose she have a twin? and send her a picture to help my chances win. soon she sees the picture she asked her name, It's "SAZAN"  and welcome to my game. The conversation with her was amazing and fecund, and she worth every second. We both are strangers but for a moment we exist together, in a digital screen as if it's a white paper.
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 2:39 PM UTC
INSTAVENTURE 2.0
Inhaling the toxin And sinking in dust. Here comes winter The Choking is must. All Rights Reserved
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC
Delhi Winter
Inhaling the toxin And sinking in dust. Here comes winter The Choking is must.       Ajay Amitabh Suman
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Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 12:32 AM UTC
Delhi Winter
I look up at the skylight Rain drops coalescing The reflection of a few drops Dancing on the wall In the breeze Which is more A gale Howling and loud Outside Destroying trees Somewhere A silvery strand of a cobweb Dances and shimmers In the pale sun Playing hide and seek The silence in my room So loud The thunder outside So far The daffodils on my windowsill Have died and dried Papery petals, a brilliant amber now Green stalks greedily still drinking While the petals thirst The tops of the trees Through my window Freshly showered Move like a woman Dancing for her lover Seducing Shimmying And yet I think of Delhi Desertlike and brown Hostile and cruel The dirt streaked faces The shining eyes Of the beggar children At crossings The eunuchs who bully The traffic, the fumes The noise that deafens The rich women who flaunt Diamonds and lovers The clubs for the haves The stares from the have-nots And I come back To the music of the rain On the skylight And the chirp of a bird Somewhere far away
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Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
Memories of Delhi, from far away...
braceleted skyline under fog smog silver-fish grey under street food breath
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
New Delhi
You are there, everywhere I smiled, laughed, cried and jumped in glee You were there, I didn't even grasp the hole. When the moon hit the stars I hurdled my balcony and saw the- Chain of lights, those and movement and I Sensed you about, I spoke to you, Your husky voice and hands perfectly mine. How many times did I pass your thoughts? Do you know you evoke memories in the- Strangest junctions of my bursting imaginations? I know the place, somewhere around the corner Unoccupied by me, I willfully ignored your future And now I think I should clasp if forever as mine! I walked slowly so that I could walk with you I caught glimpses of you and you smiled. In those longest nights I thought of salvation You pierced my eyes and held me with meaning. I thought I’ll seize you next life in the banks of Sarayu But dis-remembering you this life is so impossible. Do you remember the days you made no sense to people- Around us and then you looked my way and sighed. There are million little things I want to tell you You were an illusion that happened to me, a magic! Today I know this me, consciously and unconsciously Envisaging you. There’ll be one day this poem reaches you And when you read I can see you, beyond the walls you are I can feel you, the peculiar scent and the breeze you carried Let us walk together to the world we spoke to paint life Where we can be happy with each other!
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 11:46 AM UTC
Love Poem_September 28
Why is that looking into the- Wide and open city so upsetting? I saw the bird, She was looking amongst the buildings, A space that was hers Or maybe the space- Her ancestors have told her, The folklores and many songs- Written on the very space. She crossed mountains, Seas and barren lands To see the city lights and The many dreams she had. She is not homesick, She doesn’t even have a memory Of her home-land It is a long lost dream Which cannot be recollected. She’s homeless. Was she looking for a mirage In between the tall buildings - ‘They’ said where dreams prosper? It’s a furnace, The colours of fire she could see, The shadow painted colours- Orange, red and grey and Still it required meaning? I’m looking for it too! I am scared of forgetting, Old age and Alzheimers I’m a dreamer, a homeless hippie But there is a root, a deep root A scent, a strong scent and A soul that is sometimes homesick. I’m a coward, a bold faced, masked dancer But there is no rhythm, no audience It’s just silence, dull grey stillness! These buildings scare me, where is it? Where is my chariot? I cannot follow the crowd They have a home, a meaningful home They like the cement, the black air And bundles of printed paper. They stamped me mad. Am i? Maybe I am. Hey bird, I’m not responsible- For your destiny, look, look Look at my hands, there is no blood Look, look carefully, there is no stain But I belong to the race, I belong to The same age, the same world That changed your fate! I've no redemption from my sins! I've no redemption from my sins!
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
Confessions of a Coward
Why is that looking into the- Wide and open city so upsetting? I saw the bird, She was looking amongst the buildings, A space that was hers Or maybe the space- Her ancestors have told her, The folklores and many songs- Written on the very space. She crossed mountains, Seas and barren lands To see the city lights and The many dreams she had. She is not homesick, She doesn’t even have a memory Of her home-land It is a long lost dream Which cannot be recollected. She’s homeless. Was she looking for a mirage In between the tall buildings - ‘They’ said where dreams prosper? It’s a furnace, The colours of fire she could see, The shadow painted colours- Orange, red and grey and Still it required meaning? I’m looking for it too! I am scared of forgetting, Old age and Alzheimers I’m a dreamer, a homeless hippie But there is a root, a deep root A scent, a strong scent and A soul that is sometimes homesick. I’m a coward, a bold faced, masked dancer But there is no rhythm, no audience It’s just silence, dull grey stillness! These buildings scare me, where is it? Where is my chariot? I cannot follow the crowd They have a home, a meaningful home They like the cement, the black air And bundles of printed paper. They stamped me mad. Am i? Maybe I am. Hey bird, I’m not responsible- For your destiny, look, look Look at my hands, there is no blood Look, look carefully, there is no stain But I belong to the race, I belong to The same age, the same world That changed your fate! I've no redemption from my sins! I've no redemption from my sins!
Continue reading...
54
I have no recourse for the winds of future Where the embrace of arms Is closer than France. Where doused, like leaves in a pond, we swim freely over voices of youth that can’t explain love like knots they can’t untie, undo. I’ve no remorse for the loss of time I set sail with my paper boats each day Into the corners of her mind Hanging to the corners of her lips And swinging from the corners of her chin Till I, myself, am cornered. But she runs and lies Between words and whispers Between timing and silence And I exist in the space Between her eyes Between her lips as they part To utter fiery words Or I lie in dried shades with dust of time Finally, I find her. Like the winding road inside of me That leads to laughter and madness Madness of a holiday where you forget age One day I’ll forsake you Like the stolen moon In a sparrow’s eye And carry your laughter Buried deep in the forest of me. Take me like the pages of a book You read when you were young See me as a door If you don’t know me yet as a Wall left bare With an open window.
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Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Trickle
Her teeth are crooked skylines of a forgotten city, Against the summer sun That goes down and doused in shadows, All is quiet. In my mind, there are only mirrors. And every photo is black and white. When she smiles, The colours return. I put the lamp away and put myself on fire Things that burn are hard to reach That is why her eyes stray Seeking cold shades and warm shelters Unlike my arms, charred and red From holding you. All my paper crowns are ashes And the empty banks are flooded With tales of the old. So by the sleeve of an old sweater, By the base of a broken tower, By the loom of this forgotten craft, By the by I make myself anew Out of the cities of you. And the tired sun rises and settles In her eyes of fire Eyes of gold But inside me, there are only Mirrors upon Mirrors With no reflection.
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Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Crooked
Here I am Dressed in the sleeve of a gifted shirt Muttering words, too fast, in a language you cannot fathom Hair tousled in the wind, hands waving Wearing a smile borrowed from an old photograph Legs thinner than before. There you lie Never too far but always at a distance Forever moving a little bit too quick And yet, slowing down time Whispering through a half smile Like the sun about to rise From my window Almost a perfect circle, She dances. Here I stand Building a wall With each brick, a memory of No one. Stealing the night from her eyes Spinning in the circle Of perennial dress rehearsal Adorned with tatters of yesterday This circus grows vile. And behind the empty canvas of every mask Your eyes are open cages With singing birds Your words are roads going nowhere Your mouth, a lake with depths unknown Even though your tongue is still But your hands are doors that never open As you watch me Watching you Dangle the world From your keychain.
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Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
I