Saturday, October 6, 2012

hor vi neevan ho --- noori

 this band -- this song -- hope it gets u where all the important reside ! 

Hor vi neevan ho
Bow your head even further down (in humility)

Hor vi neevan ho fakira
Fakir, bow your even head further down (in humility)

Hor vi neevan ho
Bow your head further down (in humility)

Hor vi neevan ho fakira
Fakir, bow your head further down (in humility)

Uccha saroon gharoor mein
There is great pleasure in holding the head high in arrogance

Kaddi naa phall paiye, fakira
But, that pleasure will never be fulfilling

Hor vi neevan ho fakira
Fakir, bow your head further down (in humility)

Paiye gaa deedar sahib da
One day you will be bestowed with His presence

Hor vi neevan ho
Bow your head further down (in humility)

Ho rabba koi meray dil diyan kadraan pachanay
Lord, if only someone could understand the deliberations of my heart

Mein sawali jinna naeen koi sawal
I am a seeker who seeks nothing

Mein jogan ban dar dar phir diye
I am a wanderer, roaming from one land to another

Koi na meriyan, ramzaan pachanay
No one can unravel the secrets within me

Mein jogan ban dar dar phiriyaan way
I am a wanderer, roaming from one land to another

O koi na meriyan, ramzaan pachanay
No one can unravel the secrets within me

Mein jogan…
I am a wanderer

Chal meray naal
Come along, come with me

Hor vi neevan ho
Bow your head further down (in humility)

"the best part about death is that there are no goodbyes!"
not that i am dead or would know anything about the best part of being dead but i do know that goodbyes take up a lot of time!

Thursday, October 4, 2012

neko case is back in my life! and i'm not all !

"Twist The Knife"

Please take my breath from me
Into the fountain
And up from the graves

Burn what is left of me
I don't want these burdens
I've handsomely gained (?)

You'll be my guest
And i'll let you stay
Leave me the check
I'll pay with the rest of my life
Twist the knife

You took what's young from me
I didn't deserve it
I gave it away

You walk away from me
And I'll tear my heart out to save you the day

You'll be my guest
And i'll let you stay
Leave me the check
I'll pay with the rest of my life
Twist the knife

Please take my breath from me
Into the fountain
And up from the graves 

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

how to dance to drum n bass

Amnesia was doing good all weak.  She tripped over things, took walks down memory lane, rode into the sunrise, stumbled on building blocks and forgot everything the next day.

Reality continued playing his song, luring her, seducing her.  She liked him. Or thought she did.  But forgot about him the next day.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Sunday, September 30, 2012


His story was nothing new I guess to most working in the “bizz” but to me, was quite repelling.  One day, he said, he was sitting in the editing studio working on a project when his assistant informed him that someone had come to see him and were quite insistent that they see him.  He told his assistant to tell them he was busy but They refused to leave.  So he walked into his office to find a mother with her very young daughter.  By young I mean a 15-year young.

He didn’t know them and was rather uncomfortable especially when the “youngen” barely had any clothes on and more makeup than any “lakme” print ad.  He tried to get to the point immediately but the narrator wouldn’t let him. He fumbled with his pen and dropped it a bunch of times, picking it up only to drop it again. His disturbed mind accepted defeat and sat in his chair as the narrator continued with the spoken word…

Big girls don’t cry
Page three people don’t lie…
In bed
With their standby

Sweet girl aged 15
pimped by her mother
“compromise and you’ll get there
sweet daughter”

“compromise” she said
when she came to his room
‘compromise’ I was told
is the secret ingredient in this perfume

three buttons undone
lipstick lips locked in fear
can I be your alibi?
I promise not to spy
Just wanna hang around
Like your neck tie
Thrown nearby

Afraid of being caught of secretly enjoying the attention, he walked out abruptly.  His well-trained assistant asked them to leave politely.  The “youngen” seemed scared; as if she had failed an exam and was gonna get her ass beat.  The mother, a woman on a mission, seemed even more determined.  They left.  Only to come back at night.  He was still in the editing studio.  They knew that.  That’s where they went….

things are different now
they say
the couch does not exist
this incident happened yesterday
he could not resist

The “youngen” was cast in a commercial, and then another.  And then came many another’s.  The man was quite smitten.  It was apparent….

marry me he said
in a moment of passion
to his wife and kids at home
 “compromise is all I’ve been taught sir”
she rationed

The Narrator was on the floor, rolling with laughter.  As if he knew the outcome before the story even began…He has no mercy!  The “youngen” moved on to other editing studios.  The mother spent most of her time at the jewellery store.  The man, well, went back to his wife and kids.  The sad part being that they took him back. 

things are different now
they say
the couch does not exist
this incident happened yesterday
he could not resist

“Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got.” Janis Joplin

Monday, February 27, 2012

awesome storage idea..

stella before
i dunno about you, but i love collecting flowers for my hair... and i also love gardening and taking care of my plants like my homies..well this obsession has become so immense that i seem to have no room to store all my flowers.. or to move without hitting a plant in my house ... not complaining .. just saying.. the other day one of my plants stella passed away and as usual, that gets me very depressed so while i was sitting around moping, i had a super idea. ....

say hi to stella ------------------------

stella after

<-------------- i grabbed all my flowers and placed them on her branches and she looked alive and vibrant ... and i got a fantastic way of storing my flowers ...
                     doesn't she look beautiful?

i heart storage ideas! 

Monday, January 16, 2012

jannat ..

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

Thursday, January 12, 2012

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

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

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…’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.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

whats the use of a title?

They don't make it
the beautiful die in flame-
suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-
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

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
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….

Saturday, January 7, 2012

perfectly flawed

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

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 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… worthless as the comic strip.” Ya I could be pretty “perfound” when I wanted to be!
I sat at a local cafĂ© 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??
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!
****this article originally appeared in helter skelter in may 2011  ***

Friday, January 6, 2012


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!