Monday, December 5, 2011

The Realness

On the stage they stand, like statues waiting for the world to end.

The crowd walks in and sees the make up, and thinks it's make up.

They see the tricks, and think they're tricks.

They see a shot ring out from what they think is a toy gun and someone dies, again.

And as you leave, one of them presses a note into your hand.

"It's not pretend. It's all real. Please help me."

Sunday, October 16, 2011

The prison we made for ourselves

You should put them in a cage. The beggars and the vagrants and the ones we fight against. The people we disagree with. The ones who look or sound different from us. The neighbours who talk about us. Let's put the whole god damn world in a cage. Until the walls enclose it all. And only we are left on the outside.

List of changes.

We can answer any question we have, like how do actors make themselves cry, so we never sit in wonder and wonder at the wonder of the world, anymore.

And anything we watch can be paused, so we never argue about what just happened while we were talking, anymore.

We cannot hope that we might have just missed their call, because our phones are always with us and if they didn't call, they didn't call.

No protests in the streets, just a button marked 'like'.

No one reads stories aloud, unless you are a child.

No letters. Just bills.

The world needs more lighthouses

You can join the millions talking in the dark. Or you can stand up and scream light, out into the night.

The city has a lullaby

This is a city of sleepwalkers.
That never sleep.
Those are the sounds that pull you out of bed.
These are the hands that rock the world to sleep.
There's nothing to be afraid of in a dream.

The lights we all once were

There is no pain.

Just atoms becoming humans and picnics, lovers and stars. And then something else. And sometimes it feels like if the wind blew too hard, it'd take us all with it. You don't have to close your eyes. There is no pain. Just atoms becoming the blood that pumps through your heart and the knot in your throat, the clouds above us and air inside your lungs. There's nothing to cry about. There is no pain. Just the light from distant suns and flocks of birds. The sensation of time passing. Waves against the sky. Those shudders than run through your body, aren't there. Your nose isn't blocked. There is no pain.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The List Of Reasons

That the way light bounces off your skin has nothing to do with who you are.

That smokers believe they need to die a little, just to go outside.

That art has always hated the frame you put it in and would lash out, kicking and screaming in the streets, if you gave it half a chance.

That the way lovers touch can not be communicated in words, no matter how often or how hard you try.

That your body fights your mind and your mind fights your soul and your soul fights the world, to try and figure out what you are.

That sometimes, you're just tired.

That's all.

The Blood Floods The Subway

All I ever wanted you to do was feel this feeling. Be this way. Exhale the sky.

All you ever did was feel different. Be away. Wash your hands with air.

All I love is a feeling. I still feel this way. I cannot breathe.

I still forget there's air out there.

I still forget how white hot everything was.

I still forget myself.

There's nothing wrong with this.

There's nothing true about this.

There's nothing.

You were once everything I felt.

You were once everything.

You were, once.

And if love moves like air, then teach me how to dig my nails into the palm of my hand so I can remember what you once felt like.

The Sound Of The Sea

May I see the things in front of me as they are, not as I think them to be.

May I walk the steps ahead of me one at a time, not wondering if there's a map.

May I say the things that fix things, not break them further apart.

May I do what I need to do, not be distracted by what I can't.

May I dream of what I hope for, not of what I fear.

May I love you like I love you, not as any other, me.

The Shooting Cloud

If you're tired of trying to fall asleep, sleep on it and try again tomorrow.

If you're all out of promises, I have one left for you: The Earth is still here as long as you're alive.

If you want to yell out your frustrations, I'll understand, just understand that the whole world is screaming, mostly complaining about the noise.

If you're worried about having the poetry knocked out of you of you when you're older, don't. Old blood bleeds as good as new.

If you've got nothing left to feel, just pay the bill and walk away.

If there's anything else, let me know.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Sheer Lack Of Existence.

I'm made of dreams and memories.

I am made of misheard whispers in the dark.

I am made of glances across crowded rooms.

Of the closeness of strangers in a line outside a movie.

I am made of the corners of your mouth.

I am made of awkward elevator rides and the lack of security one finds on a doorstep, at the end of the evening, when one has enjoyed the company of another.

I am made of the train tracks that take me home.

I am made of ghost notes, from songs you never heard.

So forgive my absence. But I was never really here to begin with, anyway.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Roar Of The World

And while it may feel like you're in a stadium, in front of a crowd screaming that you must die, there are voices in that crowd, if you listen closely, screaming for you to live.

P.S: Woah! I hit 500 views in the June. Thankyou :)

Monday, June 27, 2011

The Medicine Is The Sickness

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who won’t let me in on the freeway.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s having to let people in on the freeway.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s waking up to 50 assholes pretending to be me.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s waking up feeling like an asshole because I yelled at those assholes.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who turn the things I say into insipid greeting card messages.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s turning a bunch of ideas into a laundry list.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s that feeling you get when you scratch something new.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s not knowing what’s wrong with someone and all you want to do is make them feel better.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s knowing that my mind naturally gravitates towards the negative and not being able to stop it.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who become your friend, to become your friends’ friend.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being really busy and using that as an excuse to ignore your email.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s having to acknowledge that my feelings are my own, no one else’s. And, my responsibility.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s forgetting that and taking the way I feel out on the world.

If there's one thing I hate, it's people who criticise things, who can't take criticism.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s going to the same job day-after-day for the same pay.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s not having a job.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s not you.

It's me.

The Importance

I know who you are. Not the you who changes masks for the world every hour of the day, depending on the audience - I know the you behind that. Beyond the tiny voice in your head. Beyond the compromises you make.

I accept you. I understand you. From the order you eat your food in, to the corners of your mouth.

I know you.

The Occasional Silence

You can walk into a room and spot them. They seem fine when you talk to them but every now and again, across the room, you catch them looking off into the distance at an invisible point that maybe, they once reached. They laugh a little different. They hesitate a little more. Now they know what it feels like. And something about their eyes when they listen to music says

"Turn it up until my ears bleed. Let it be the last thing I hear."

Sunday, June 26, 2011

The Could

Why do you do what you do? Is it to impress those around you? Your family? Your friends? Your lover?

Do you do it to make money? To live in a nice house? To buy things that can't be scratched?

Or do you do it because you love it. Because it lets you finish each day with a smile on your face and a thought in your mind.

"Today I did the best I could do. Not because I had to. Because I wanted to."

Thursday, June 23, 2011

The Red

When hurt turns red and a piece of your heart is missing. When the cold bites deep and you’ve got that feeling like you just got out of surgery. When the only way to stay sane is to concentrate on anything else but how you feel. When you count the tiles in the ceiling. When you push the earphones closer. When the first day of winter arrives. When you remember every nuance of every word of every time. When all this happens.

Embrace it. Feel every feeling. Cry every tear. Sob every sob. Because this is what it feels like to have loved.

The Physics In The Air

And I promise you I'll hold your hand back. I'll sit back and enjoy it. I'll laugh at the lightning. I'll giggle at thunder. I'll drink raindrops. I'll lean into the wind. I'll see the sun come out. And one day, I'll cry for a storm that passed, never to come again.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Rope.

Untie yourself. Get rid of the knots. Forgive your father. Forgive your mother. Forgive your brothers. Forgive your sisters. Forgive your children. Forgive your lover. Forgive your teachers. Forgive your heroes. Forgive a late ride. Forgive cold food. Forgive working late. Forgive being 5 rupees short. Forgive those who have wronged you. Forgive those who will wrong you.

The last knot is always the hardest. It’s also the most important.

Forgive yourself.

And then you are free.

Monday, June 20, 2011

The Truth Behind Glass Mountains.

This isn't torture.

Torture happens in small, dark rooms in countries with names you struggle to spell.

This is just mildly unpleasant.

This isn't heroism.

Heroism happens in churches that are also schools, performed by teachers with no names and no place to stay.

This is just a good deed for the day.

This isn't loss.

Loss happens on fields filled with poppies, in hospitals buzzing with flies, in distant deserts and late at night when there's no good reason for the phone to ring.

This is just longing.

This isn't important.

Important happens on bended knees and is breathed on last breaths with hands clutched tight, hearts tighter.

This is just a distraction.

The Sweetly Sleeping

Dream dreams. Big dreams. Little dreams. Dreams in which you fly, live, die. Dream of things you’ve never seen and things you see every day. Dream of the future, of what happened in the past and what’s happening right now.

But, whatever you do, dream.

The Metronome Tree

Forget about your lists and do what you can because that's all you can do. Phone up the people you miss and tell them you love them. Hug those close to you as hard as you can. Because you are always only a drunk driver's stupidity, a nervous shopkeeper's mistake, a doctor's best attempts and an old age away from forever.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

They Ride For Me

Please words. I need you now (the and and you two especially). I need you to tell the truth. To say things as they are. Don't be words that I say too fast, words that I have to defend. Please don't listen to me when I tell you to do the wrong things, be the words you were meant to be. Be honour and fire place and celler door. Be slow and sunrise and sunset. Be a phrase "I know they come again." No words more than needed, just enough to say what I mean and mean what I say. Please words. Work.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Pictures Are Not Pretty

All the people you see in the street, who would rather wear sunglasses than know where they're going, they get put back in the gallery at night, they get covered up for the next day. So they can think that a road is a grey river that'll take them anywhere, as long as they can float. So they can carry on. There are so few real people in this world. Thank you for being one of them.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

The Glitter Phoenix Burns Again

When you read, you go through a series of steps, all of which are personal. To you. And you alone. Your eyes see the symbols joined together to make words, the graphical representations of sounds. These sounds are then translated into meaning. They are given voice by your observation of them. You have no choice in the matter.

Try to not read this sentence.

Thousands of people may read this but each of them will read it in their own way. It is unique to them. To you. That is why I wrote it. Because you are unique in your voice and your way. You are special. A unique aspect of a glimmering whole. We are all the whole. But you alone are you. And because I speak to you and you alone, intimately, I know you as well as I know myself.

And that is why I have the faith I do in you. You will be great. You will be amazing.

You will change the world. 
I know you.

Bend In The Road.

You're unsure of what the next step is. Do you carry on down the same path or find a new one? What do you really want?

No one knows what they really want. We listen to the voice inside our head that tells us what we want but often, it's wrong. We shouldn't be listening to the voice.

We should be listening to the silence.

Friday, June 3, 2011

The Glitter Phoenix Burns

I won't compose prose every morning you open your eyes next to me (I won't compare you to a summer's day).

I won't remember every appointment.

I won't keep the sheen on my armour.

I won't know what to say sometimes.

I won't get your order right.

I'll be late.

I'll fuck-up.

But I'll write something for you when you least expect it (in summer or winter).

But I'll burst through the door as soon as I remember.

But I'll polish it until it shines again.

But I'll say something anyway.

But I'll go back and make it right.

But I'll get there.

But I'll try.

The Night

The blackest night will fall and I will be gone like the sun. But in the darkness, you will find something more important than me. You will find yourself, deep in that ink. The sky will lift you up like the moon, to bring light to a landscape starved of it. And I will chase you and you will chase me, in the hope that one day we will find each other again.

And when that day comes, we will cast our light.

I Watched You Unfold

I saw them kick you and beat you till you lay bleeding in the dirt. Broken and burnt, with tears in your eyes, you got up, opened your wings, and hugged the entire world.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Evidences Against And For

I have these dreams, filled with the melodic singles of rock bands, blank pages and words pouring out of plants, rabbits in top hats singing lullabies to lost love, golden dragons circling the grave of their mother, roaring fire and flame in defiance of death, barristers and black knights doing battle in city streets, trains to hell and elevators to heaven, somewhere in an ocean of skin, somewhere in a sky filled with sin (bring them all to bear). 

And though you might not have witnessed them, I believe it all to be as real as anything else I've ever seen.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Close and nearly

Something has moved and bumped the cradle of everything. The world is out of sync. Birds fly backwards and the fish swim through the air. Hours pass like seconds and seconds pass like hours. The light fades before the sun leaves. The stars shine before the night falls. If I were you, I'd be beautiful.

The Wasted Words

You will forgive me, I hope you don't mind me saying, I just wanted to add, if you've got time and I've said it before and I'll say it again, because you should know, before we go any further, we should put everything on the table because the reality is and the truth is and the fact of the matter is, I shouldn't interrupt but I was wondering and if you know, please tell me, how we manage to say so much, without saying anything at all.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

I wish these times would never end. Today, so many hearts will be broken. When happiness and sadness pull at every heart string. No one knows where they're going and what tomorrow has in store. I wish we could all hold hands and come out the other side.

I can only hope that the memories will never fade in anyone's mind. Even when we only have glossy covered pictures reminding us of yesterday. If only I had a picture of today from our hearts, for the cover of the scrap book in my mind.

Please, paint me a picture of today before tomorrow takes it away.

Monday, May 30, 2011


One by one, nature cuts our strings and lets us fall to the ground.

Yesterday, someone in my family passed away. She was not very closely related to me. Infact, she was my father's aunt. She used to come by our house every weekend or so before we shifted. All the way from defence(That's a long way). All the way, by a bus. That's a fairly large distance for an old woman to travel. I have never had any close contact with her, but once in my 19 year memory.

     She used to knit sweaters for us. I used to get a maroon or blue one every year. 5 months ago, was the last time I saw her. A 94-year old woman. In a chair. Wrinkled face. Glasses, too big for her old smiling face, that magnified her eyes to hardly the size of small golf balls. We seldom visited her. She happy when she saw us. A smile passed over her face, though I could see the pain behind the smile. My parents went and hugged her and tears rolled down from her eyes. I do not usually feel sentimental nor emotional, but I felt my eyes water my lashes. That was enough to make me realize how much she loved us.

     The world doesn't live that way. The world doesn't love that way. "We hide behind masks.." I never understood the true meaning of these words until now. You and I hide behind masks of shame. You and I hide behind masks of success. You and I hide behind masks of arrogance. We think twice behind expressing our love and appreciation to someone. The world is a different place than it was a century ago.

Her will: Let Shahid (My father) be the one who lowers me in my grave.

'Ina lillahe wa inna elaihe rajaun'

The Pockets

“I’m jealous of children. I envy them.”
You said.

I asked you why.

“Because their pockets are empty. They don’t need to carry anything. No cell phones, wallets, car keys, cigarettes, lighters, iPods… you know what I mean? They’re free. As we get older, we give ourselves more and more things to worry about. To lose. Reasons to pat our pockets in a panic in case we’re missing something. A list to run through in our head before we walk out the front door. That’s why I envy children.”

I nodded and finished my cigarette, wondering if I had my wallet with me.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

The story of Bobilina 'The Ugly' Jelly Bean. (Utterly random)

Once upon a time, there was a big shoe. Someone wore it, and walked away. BUT that is not the point! The point is, that there was once a Jelly bean. Yes, a jelly bean! Yes yes, I know your surprised with the 'o.O' expression.

So anyway, this little jelly bean lived in a.. bean bag? Whatever. Wild, naked turnips lived in that area too, and they called him Bobilina. And that was really, really embarrassing. So one day, this little jelly bean decided to go visit his grandma, who was a witch and was convicted of boiling Hansel and Gretel, but who gives a fuc.. chilly, about them. Bobilina wore a red hood and took off with a basket of grenades and rocket launchers. He wanted to give his granny a big surprise by supplying her with military aid. Granny McDoodle waged war against her neighbours, the 3 bears, a year ago. They held Goldikeys hostage because, apparently, the idiot was found licking their pillows.

While making his way through the Canyon of Nana-nana-nana-nana, Bobilina came across Fred the mole. Fred the mole walks up to Bobilina and says,"Sup?". To which, Bobilina says,"No, YOU tell me what's up!!" So the mole goes all,"No, YOU tell me what's up?!" To which Bobilina says,"Imma whoop your tushie, FOOL!" The mole goes like,"Oh no, you di'int!" "Oh yes I di'id!", "Oh no, you di'int! "Oh yes, I di'id","Oh no, you di'int!" "Oh yes I di'id!", "Oh no, you di'int! "Oh yes, I di'id","Oh no, you di'int!" "Oh yes I di'id!", "Oh no, you di'int! "Oh yes, I di'id"..

Meanwhile, Tarzan-ia was having trouble pinning up his diaper. He had a long day.. Well, let's not go there! What he did not know, was that he was being stalked. Red-Indian headhunters followed him to his nest and.. BOOOM!!

*Haha, no, they did not shoot him. Dont cry.*

Cartoons dont die. Gayness. Remember?

Thursday, May 26, 2011

What Today Gives You

Today, no planes flew into any buildings.

Today, there was no fire falling from the sky.

Today, there were no riots in the streets.

Today, the news was mostly just about famous people.

Today, no shaky footage was recorded of children running from a burning village.

Today, not one person stood in front of a tank.

Today, no one put flowers in the rifle barrels of guns.

Today, you will check your mail.

Today, no shots rang out over a black cavalcade.

Today, there was no negotiated revolution.

Today, no flags were burned.

Today, sport will be played and people will be upset over the outcome.

Tomorrow however, is a new day.

Monday, May 23, 2011

The Interrogator Knows Me

Someone was throwing a can away when it happened and the can just hung in the air. A man was getting into his car, turning the radio on. A shopping bag was stuck in midswing, carried by a frozen shopper. Birds in the sky just stayed where they were. Light hits the eyes the universe gave me. Time throws slow punches but they hurt all the same. You are a secret I can never give up.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Hol-ly Shi-it!

So maybe I've been watching Discovery channel for a few days, and I've come across this remarkably ingenious person. Stephen Hawkings. Same level as that of Albert Einstein. Difference being: He deals with the universe as a whole.


P.S: No disrespect to Einstein or Hawkings.

The universe ended and I watched

There's no noise out here.

Unless you listen closely, in which case, you can still hear the echoes of the first word.

There's no reason to be afraid of shadows.

Unless you've seen where they keep them.

There's no mystery in your blood.

Unless you remember your minerals and metals all come from the ghosts of distant stars.

But other than that, nothing.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Social ghost

I am: select sex. It's free and everyone can join. Keep me signed in for two weeks. Invite your friends. Two of your friends have a crush on you. You are at the last photo. 

Save your changes. 

Remember me.

Saturday, April 16, 2011


I'm sorry I don't write much these days. Reasons: My exams start early next month, my computer is busted, and that I do not get time for my blog. But no, this is not my swan song. Not yet.

It is a pleasure having you around. Thank you for keeping a check.

Corners Of Your Mouth

And you asked why people always expected you to smile in photographs. And I told you it was because they hoped that in the future, there would be something to smile about.

The Bubbles Are Your Friends

And though the waves might bring you down and though the currents might pull you under, the sky is always still right above you. And your friends will show you the way.

The Seconds Can Be Days

This moth lives for just one day, and yet, you will never see it fall to the ground and curse the futility of its existence. Nor flowers weep when winter comes. Nor the moon sigh when dawn approaches. We are only ever given just so much. But it is always, all we need.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The meaning we give to words.

And I'm sorry if I haven't written to you in a while. It's just that life gets in the way of living. It's just that my fingers were stuck together. It's just that all the paper in the world caught fire.

You'll forgive me if I haven't written in a while. It's just that time stopped ticking. It's just that all the ink ran clear.

My apologies if I haven't written in a while. It's just that words ran out of letters (these are the last in the bag). It's just that language isn't perfect. It's just, me.

The Title Screen

Just pretend you're in a movie. Be as brave and as full of love as the main character. Because we all need to believe in movies, sometimes.