Cojones of Sand

Scratch your pencil on the canvas of a dashboard,

While you believe that the dice is blind,

the dice man smiles on the ignorance,

you illustrate your convenience with the world,

stripping off your uncertainties within and smile back,

scared like a little kid with no one around,

you play the game of fate with the cojones of sand,

and then the wait begins,

and eternity is delayed till the thirtieth of February.

The demise of desire was inevitable,

and so was the Parousia of failure and neglect,

And then the inappropriate becomes regular,

and the darkness is revealed off the eclipse,

Then you strip off your smile and they strip off their ingenuity

and the eyes blurt out the obvious.

Insinuation, deceit, comfort and sacrilege walk hand in hand

and the world walks away stolidly towards the casino,

and the dice man takes the dice again,

to the ease of his tricks and rolls it again.

Your fate is engraved with a rusted steel rod,

Now misbehave with hope and play your cards,

While they will flirt with the indifference

While you are written off as nada in the book of love.



ek nashe ki dukaan khol lee hai is monsoon maineShadow
ek badi botal lee aur saare din nichod kar sharbat banaya
Fir ek khatte ras ki botal bharee, kuch shararaton se nikal kar
aise kaafi saara nasha ikathha ho gaya hai mere paas
ab roz koi ek botal chun kar zindagi mein gholta rehta hoon
kuch din aur chalega ye, fir woh aakhri botal kholni padegi
ek aakhri chhoti si botal, jisme saare vaade pighla ke daale the
socha tha, ye nasha to saari umra chalega.
Kal shaam jab us shishi ko ulat kar dekha to pata chala ki khaali hai,
Fir yaad aaya, us din jab woh jaa rahi thee to kaha tha usne,
pyas lagi hai aur door jaana hai tab woh mein hi to tha jisne
khushi khushi paani mein mila kar woh vaade pila diye the use.

Ab nasha bhi khatam hai, aur ye khaali botlein,
aur ye khaali botlein bewajah ki baaton jaise mujhse poochti rehti hai
nasha khatam kab hua tha jo ab nasha shuru karne ki baat karte ho

The speed of time!

wrote something after a long time, for once let’s share it with the world!

gulzar-o-ghalib ki bazmon mein khud ke nishaan dhoondhte dhoondhte
kabhi kuch purane raasto mein kadam bikhar jaate hain
poora mahine raat ko odh kar sone ka bahana karte rahe
wahin kuch sitare jugnoo jaise kuch bolne ki koshish kar rahe the
haan, woh waqt aage badh chuka hai uski ghadi mein
kuch zyada hi tez le chala hai waqt usko apne saath
mere paas to wahi dheemi ghadi hai, jo ruk jaati hai,
jo thami rehti hai, aur isi pal mein atak kar dekhti rehti hai.
Waqt ki aadat bigadna achha nahi rehta,
ye ek baar ruk jaaye, to sadiyon tak atka rehta hai.
Shayad ye mera hi waqt aalsi hai jo aage jaana hi nahi chahta.
Uska waqt to manjhli ungli ki us angoothi ke saath
agle mahine ki 19 tareekh par jaa kar baith chuka hai
ek mehngi angoothi hai, zaahir hai, meri to nahi hi hogi.
Mere to woh do chaar lafz hi the, jo uska waqt wahi peeche chhod aaya hai
kya kya aage le ke aata, un chhote haatho mein itni jagah nahi thee.

Fourteen September Two Thousand Six AD

Dangling on the threshold of the 3 minutes of alarm’s snoozes,
dragging myself out of the live sleep,
and dressing myself with the dead life,
I seldom realize that the transitions are tough.

We transit everyday in our chewing gum lives,
continuosly, unintentionaly and forecefully,
losing flavour street by street along the path,
and reaching the end, being all the same.

I am suprised by the impulsive energy spikes
when u start aiming for the sky
is this a trivial harmonic imbalance
or another fancy movie showing life.

And, by the end of the day,
a bed agin waits for you, warm, inviting
and it quietly utter in your left ear,
another day vanishes, like the rest of them
today’s movie is over,
its time to go back to sleep
its time to go back to your life

The Anatomy Of Vacuum

Finding meaning from nowhere
searching silences in the crowd
pretending to be you
suffocating my thoughts
its tough to breathe
in the air of uncertainty
and the globe keeps rotating
while my conscience shrugs
The eyes avoid the important
stick to the obvious, the illusive
I listen to the noise,
avoiding the words
and i leave life hanging, incomplete
to feel the emptiness, the inadequacy
the vacuum in my self,
in the soulless entities,
the hollow bodies in and around me

I leave it to get completed,
hunting accomplishment undefined
by itself or by force,
by force of lame imaginations
and it remains unattended,
to be forgotten like unread fiction
time and time again, forgotten


This happened once back in time, so let me try to get back to blogging with nostalgia. Time to reflect on some past and ask, why and how?

Monday, November 20, 2006

There is hardly anything i cant do,
There is hardly anything i can do properly,
I am all over the place,
like a three year old kid’s lost marbles on the floor,
and most of them in the farthest corners of the room,
under the bed,in the glass pot,
out of the veranda,
and these marbles will not be recollected till evening,
when someone comes, takes trouble,
cursing the kid, kissing his cheeks,
and returns him those marbles back,
only for him to lose them again.
He loves this process, his daily recreation,
I lose myself, I find it again,
itching the remote corners of my head,
its my life,its my sport,
my amusement is my brain.

posted by BlahBlahKid at 6:03 AM


Rain Dream

Sun in the earth.. sunflower
Bird in the air …rain
Eye within eye… daybreak

Streets we have never walked on
Windows we have never opened
Hands we have never held
Dreams we shall never ..never see again

Lives we have never lived
Hopes ..we have never realized
Fires we have never lit
Loves… we shall never .. never make again

Sun in the earth sunflower
Bird in the air rain
Eye within eye daybreak

I hear those strange whispers again…..

– Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi

And believe me, it sounds even better.

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