Indifference

She told me things were okay
in a manner that was okay
a few days ago
and
I thought all was okay
in a manner that was okay to me.

Workplace problems are complicated
not just complex
coz okay is an indecipherable group of syllables-
two syllables
with a side each

I am okay and not okay simultaneously
like a buffalo with lice on the back
at times,

serving indifference,
with a smile,
in a world where its okay to be and not to be!

Thought II

With pace unmatched
and weight unseen
thoughts
run taut
like pandas
white
and
black
feeding on abundant greens,

and they
trip and fall
on sand that's brown

lost
in their own unclear shades!

PS - Ay humnava, mujhe apna bana le...sookhi padi dil ki iss zameen ko bhiga de!

Peace...

is a slow moving ant on the little cement block outside the house;
and its not silence, you see,
it can exist in the depth of screaming sounds,
of several moving ants,
strutting about with different agendas.
But this one,
steps one leg after one leg,
its chirpy-ness,
thinning down spurts of outbursts
into lines of normal air;

amid much miscellany,
peace is jus being,
an ant's single, favourite tune!

Suffering...

is also clawed.
And it has got pretty strong fists.

And these fists come down when
pain exceeds anger
sorrow exceeds fury
sickness exceeds wrath and
trials exceed verdicts;

so it circles about deathly hollows
over territories that witness sudden massacre
causing slow death,
like an eagle that is waiting to come down
to release it
....relieve it
off its beaten life!

PS - Are you lonesome tonight, do u miss me tonight!

Treachery

Perched on top of a withering tree branch,
it crows
whimsically,
discordantly,
...................as if hurling dark swear words
impudently,
...................with every sound it makes,
ironically,
...................onto those who’ve given it its shelter
...................and fostered its babies
...................with care and caution
...................as if it were their own;
...................it flies around chalking its own course of survival
...................pretending to be dark faced and silver hearted,
...................actually dark faced ‘darker’ hearted,
...................chanting mantras of righteousness and morality
...................which crows like it, buy and sell and celebrate, huddled in togetherness.

Their crafty-ness is a neat craft alright;
the problem is that it isolates and eliminates any form of melody that might have existed.

Selfishness...

a misunderstood phenomenon-
wide eyes, yet blink-less,
straight gait, yet unsteady,
strong blue, yet overwhelmingly pale,
mercilessly killing, yet hungry,
charming persona, yet repulsive-

......selfishness
swarms onto character,
............like
........a...t...h...e
..........e.........r
.............f...s
- spreading over sight's farthest range -

of a peacock - harshly overpowering, haughtily overbearing,
yet utterly backless!

PS - This town is a love u town and a shove u town and a push u around town!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxSRxwx581k

Trailing oneself...

They stroll about
familiar paths in the colourful garden
like lovers hand in hand,
oblivious of suspicious onlookers;
and then
they walk back stripped off their plain-ness,
in the direction of familiar trails of the wayward wind,
like feather-winged butterflies
shedding off
parts of the past
lined in shells of black skin
on
slow-moving caterpillars
racing against
their own future manifestations!

PS:
What am I to u? tell me darling true,
to me you are the sea, vast as you can be, deep the shade of blueeeeee!

Disgust

...is a pig's skin covered in the filth of the road
smelling like a ball of rotten, spoilt perishables
flapping around shamelessly, remorselessly,
littering every single clean spot on its way.

...is gait, small steps, speed, earnestness,
fake in the the circuitous air,
that spins out shit and spins in normalcy for a long time
till deception dies of old age...

Yeah...disgust is that pig's real, bare, unwashed self!

Whoosh!

I whisked past the starry night
a whimsical cat, I was
scurrying watchfully, eyes wide open,
all jaws and claws,
I made music outa whine,
an endless song from whistle,
my voice sprung up and sizzled,
whipping peaceful air into
a whirlpool of wobbly words that stuck to each other so firm,
they lost term,

they became vegetation -
whistling weeds -
from trance they came into trance they went

whisking me along,
silently, carefully, closed eyes, closed palms,
praying in the silence of my whistle, so long...

I swayed, I chiselled
Wide winged in winglessness, I sprung,

Weesh, Washhh, Whoosh -
I think I wish-elled!

Restlessness...

grows deformed
from mirthless sharp gazes
to
errands of unpredictable blinks
as if waiting secretly
like a bear for prey
to unsettle
perplexity in a harmless man.

Restlessness rests quietly in some remote pit of the tummy
but jumps in mutiny when you've swallowed too much too soon
without chewing hard enough!

Solitude...

yawns in the calm of the night's whisky like blanket,
gentle yet brisk,
steady yet wavy
like the curve of the crescent moon,
a smiley,
with rough edges and benign stature...

it swims at times,
actionlessly,
as meaninglessly as in sincerity,
as distinctly as in 'situation's' perplexing dichotomy,
as pristinely as in hurried devotion,
as eerily as in thought's piercing gaze...

like a white swan in some waterland,
where movement is stillness in motion...

Love!

Is a firefly in the garden and its pitch dark.

It treads the uneven path and glows in undreamy parts.
It connects what you can see with what you cant and fixes what you want from what you have.
It wades around with tenacity and strength with fears none and dears all.

With that small stream of light, it discovers,
its world
within the world
and makes a small home in some dark, cozy corner.

Yes...love is that firefly in that garden where its pitch dark!

PS -
Hulchul hui, zara shor hua, dil chor hua, teri orr hua,
Aisi chale jab hawa, ishq hua re hua!

Madness...

is a furious bull let loose into the arena
where bull fights are excitedly witnessed.

Its a scene for the masses,
a passtime for the aristocratic
and plain shame for the bourgeois.

Sometimes,
there are those peculiar ones
- in some intersection, right above -
that soak/seep into the psyche of this style,
looking closely through the lumbering lion-like lines,
riding and revelling in each of its riveting 'rage' repulses,
burning and blistering in the breathlessness of each offensive bout.

Madness, to some, is life's fiery bull and to some others, just serious bull!

Anxiety...

like a swarm of mosquitos,
in groups of ten somethings
in ugly tempo travellers stuck
in un-retreat-able traffic jams
on rainy evenings,

perches gently onto the valleys/crescents of your body
and tests blood as the nearby doctor would with his syringe,
sucking in thin lines
the liquids sustaining your insides;

and as you frantically try saving yourself,
it spirals its way collectively around to
some other side of you,
oblivious to you,

enters your skull
and sits around it like Damien Hirst's diamonds
before powdering the crust,
making heaps of pure dust
that struggle for space, settle and accumulate
slowly overgrowing the environs of a tiny cerebrum!

Anger...

Screams like a widowed animal,
crying for a second chance;
driving spurts of sudden blood
up
__the spine,
d
o
w
n
the navel,
across each curve of the intestine,
as if tonnes and tonnes of explosives
in a ventless enclosure
have suddenly caught fire
and are tearing down
each particle around their persistent vicinity,
ruthlessly,
mercilessly,
remorselessly,
one by one, two by two, hundreds by hundreds,
with each passing moment,
fast, steady, focussed, cogent,
in pain, worry, hunger, betrayal, embarrassment, shame, distress,

crushing

the cravical bone, its thereabouts
strongly, firmly, gruffly,

as hands shiver, feet paddle and body runs completely dry.

Fury is nokia's snake (game) that kills prey, grows big and eats itself!