jannat ..

 jannat ke phool .... zameen pe nahi milte .

jesus in love

photo:manoj jadhav

someday I’d like to have another drink

with you beside me

someday id like to take a walk on the beach

with you inside me

jesus is in love with you

jesus is in love with you

you pray for life

holding a knife

you lust for infinity

in virginity

jesus is in love with you

jesus is in love with you

free fallin...

“Make the world go away….get it … get it off my shoulder……yeah…make the world go away….say the things we used to say and make the world go away……”

He said,” I am a gypsy…I belong to the world… I left on my journey at 13.  Ive seen a lot of people and ive been with a lot of women.  Nothing you can say or do will surprise me as much as your presence does.  This strong smell of yours haunts me everywhere I go.  In a room full of nationalities you stick out like the green alien, except you’re red. 

She said,” Gypsy boy I am a dream.  Don’t try to make me a reality.  Don’t try to own me and don’t try to limit me.  Close your eyes and I will be yours forever.

He said, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.  Come see me.  I’ll make the world go away.  Come to me….

She said, “I must work….I must focus…I must make money…I must not lust…”

Days passed…

He said She said They said

The world The world The world… didn’t really matter…

He said, “ Dream are you playing games with me or are you gonna come true?  If not, you have to let me know for I have had the most beautiful love declaration last night.  And I don’t wanna sleep to dream anymore.”

She said, “Fly with love my gypsy.  Be happy.  I will always be around flying with you in a distance watching over you and smiling.  Go with love….fly fly fly…”

He said, “as you wish.”

And vanished.

She met him months later.  In her world.  He didn’t fit.  But he tried.  He sat on her bed and sang her Spanish folksongs as she drifted into her tent.

He said, “Lovely strong lady, you don’t belong in a tent.  Unzip and Unlip. 

He spoke of his current ladylove and she pretended not to look bothered. 

He said, “She is beautiful … you know what she said….she said “ive been in love with you for 2 years and watching you…but you never noticed me once….so here I am…jump….”  I was blown away.

She said, “that’s beautiful….love must be beautiful…”

He said, “yes it is….but love is like a dream again…..”  POOF VANISHED!

She said, “ I wish…I wish…I wish….”

And fell asleep….to dream….

He left

Day Dreaming…

Good night!

Elvis continued singing….nobody noticed….

“Do you remember when you loved me…

Before the world took you away..

Well if you do, then forgive me…

And make the world, make it go away..”

PS: being in a relationship is like sky diving…..it’s terrifying but you jump anyway….the thrill of the free fall.... The best part, when you binge on each other and every touch equals goosebumps.  The feeling in your gut, the adrenaline, the rush, the gush, the blush.  But at some point you feel like you’re gonna crash n burn so you pull the chute…and exhale in relief…you’re safe….in your mind….and eventually if you are an expert, you have a perfect landing on your two feet and walk away for another round. 

Note to self:

In these days of recession, binging on love seems to be the perfect thing to do.  Think about it…You don’t need food cuz you can live on soft kisses and air and you can stay up all night in candlelight discussing important issues like “who likes the other more” cuz it aint like you have to work the next day.  So forget the protective gear and free fall till you can free fall again….Chutes don’t even work sometimes.

whats the use of a title?

They don't make it
the beautiful die in flame-
suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-
ever...
they rip their arms off,
throw themselves out of windows,
they pull their eyes out of the sockets,
reject love
reject hate
reject, reject.

they don't make it
the beautiful can't endure,
they are butterflies
they are doves
they are sparrows,
they don't make it.

one tall shot of flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
one flame, one good flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
in the sun.

the beautiful are found in the edge of a room
crumpled into spiders and needles and silence
and we can never understand why they
left, they were so
beautiful.

they don't make it,
the beautiful die young
and leave the ugly to their ugly lives.

lovely and brilliant: life and suicide and death
as the old men play checkers in the sun
in the park. 

charles bukowski 

top hat

-->

photo by manushka khisty

Trace of white powder

Keeps me

On your trail

Musky scent

Of last nights love juices

Makes me frail

Unaware of my intentions

But of my convictions

Frail trail

To no avail..

I lust I lust I lust I lust

Building a bridge

To grab your

Undivided attention…

The magician sulks

In the corner

Naked With his

Top hat on display

Lights

Camera

Action…..

The lights dim

The show begins…..

Here I am…

I’m pulling rabbits outta my heart

I’m pulling rabbits outta my heart….

U are frail

White rabbits on your trail

White powder on the scale

Inhale / Exhale

I’m still pulling rabbits outta my heart

I’m still pulling rabbits outta my heart….

i heart instagram..

love instagram .. here are some nice ways to play with it .. http://web.appstorm.net/roundups/16-ways-to-play-with-instagram/

perfectly flawed

Is it possible to be so perfectly elated all the time? Is it snobbish? Photo by Joy Datta

Yesterday

Yesterday was the day days should be made of.  I woke up with a beautiful human lying in perfect symmetry, breathing in perfect harmony, mumbling in perfect harmony, drooling in perfect harmony, hallucinating in perfect harmony. Perfect seemed to be the word of the day.  Perfect is a word most people are afraid to use because of its well,  ‘perfect’ connotations. 

The day was more cinematic than 5 Tarsem movies put together.  The drums; humming, the guitars strumming, the shakers shaking, the clouds battling, the moon begging, and the road bragging as I packed my bags to descend on my perfect journey.  “Waka Chaka Waka Chaka” was the whisper that followed every footstep.  I am scared mostly of my perfectly happy state of mind.  The top is a lonely place full of empty souls parading their loaded lives. But I love it here. 

“Is it possible to be so perfectly elated all the time?”  “Is it snobbish?”  I have started realizing that happy people don’t have too many friends.  I guess nobody wants to hear a happy tale.  A fairy tale!

The drums hummmmmmm’d louder as each minute flew by.  I could not sleep.  I lay awake listening to Susheela Raman crying on an empty canvas.  Acrylic tears mixed in with laughter and an occasional vodka shot.

I had everything, even my molars were perfect! Was the story I convinced myself of and fell asleep smiling in my perfect dreams.

Today

Today I woke up to the same human but somehow didn’t find the harmony or the perfect symmetry.  The mumbling had turned into screaming and the drool had become quite disgusting. 

Today, instead I felt like a perfect loser.  I realized that “perfect” love is judgmental and insecure.  Love maybe possibly the only enemy of love. 

The “waka chaka waka chaka” turned to “whiny chatter” with each step.  Some say love is beautiful and some say love is a virtue.  Some say it sucks and some say it’s overrated.  I have been a believer and an atheist.  Love is the obstacle we all like to conquer to feel good about ourselves. Love completes the “perfect” picture.

“Love is…..as worthless as the comic strip.” Ya I could be pretty “perfound” when I wanted to be!

I sat at a local café staring at the half empty Ipads of the half full cups.  Even their fingers were ugly.  “Did I look the same to them?” “Are we just a reflection of what we think of others?” 

“Whah..i wanted yesterday back??” Who said the past was not important??

Now

Every mom wants their child to be perfect, every teacher wants their student to be perfect, every employer wants their employees to be perfect.  Every Plastic Surgeon wants their patients to look perfect. Every moviemaker wants the perfect opening. All you hear is Perfect Perfect Perfect! In an already stressed out world, too much stress on a word that is imperfect to begin with.

We place ourselves on a pedestal after a single victory.  We think the game was invented just for us.  Play one and get 2 free.  We become invincible and start thinking success gives us wings.  We go through humans like plastic chess pawns and wonder why we have no friends, just co-workers or acquaintances.  Our “perfect teeth” smile the “perfect fake” smile.  “So this is fame?” “This is what we do to appear perfect to the world?” “Is it worth it to pose “happy” (who the hell invented this pose?) wearing expensive clothes and selling an idea of perfection to the world that does not exist?” 

A battle I fight with myself everyday as one half strives to be perfect (cuz mommy would be so happy and people would love me for my achievements and only when I have achievements would I really Be Somebody) and the other just wants to sit on a bullet with my torn jeans and ride on the rooftop of the world with no one around to judge me in my perfect world! Oops there goes that word again!

“They say that nobody is perfect. Then they tell you practice makes perfect. I wish they'd make up their minds.” Winston Churchill

****this article originally appeared in helter skelter in may 2011 http://helterskelter.in/2011/05/perfectly-flawed/  ***

lately...

ive been in a beautifully weird state of mind.  ... completely inspired by all things nonhuman after spending time on my recent holiday with kathakali dancers ... back in bombay with so many ideas and a bucket ful of d r e a m s and a mindful of drama .. inspired to the core ..not knowing what to do with it! everywhere anyhwere is invaded with so much mundane that there's hardly any room for the extraordinary!