The fate written for the young boy to survive…
Suffering embracing the soul deprived…
Will thwarted by the plague of the world…
Misery borne… the hapless preferred to die…..
Mused and abused…
Used and noosed
Bearing the brunt..
Sore like a cunt...
Laughter filled with fantasy to kill..
Evaded respite and faded guilt…
Wounded mind…bleeding jilt…
Haunting moments those brought him to this world…
Orphaned and alone, bruised and cursed
Hunger and despair befriended his self,
Begging and craving for an ignorant help,
All through his age, he ate rotten and stinking,
The child within sinking its face in the bins…
The world sacked him for a reason not to be found,
Sometimes, this boy, left with the bloodhounds…
Snatching bites from the mouth of the dogs,
He grows up with his head full of smog…
Never to surrender, the boy makes a stand…
Gory for the god, blood to the land….
Blasphemy blessed, butchered at birth,
Licking the perforated pride that hurts
Corrupted with thoughts of kill and rage,
The boy turned predator, annihilated the cage,
The cage of humanity that held him for long,
The demon breaks free, the evil turns strong…
Laments no longer shackle him back,
Hunting for existence, deceiving with black,
Swinging sword laden with despise..
Falling corpses and he begins to rise….
Savoring the taste of his revenge,
Celebrating every sinner’s demise,
No longer the sin of his birth, he has to bear,
Never the ones, who punished, will again hear…
The cries that turned into fuming hate,
The sufferer no longer takes the fate,
The affliction that once stalked him for long,
The pain that no further to him belongs,
He gives back the heat to the world again…
Once water in his eyes, it’s now the blood that rains….
There he disappears into the woods of the dark,
Waiting…for another soul….that has to depart.
For he has become.. the lord of his own..
And takes over the work of the god…
Yes, no longer the human in him survives…
This is a story of a man… who stalks the humanity….
Because the humanity once helped his soul die….
Monday, July 28, 2008
Someday i won't have you on my mind.....
The day haunts me with the memories of the past
The night bleeds the inside on something that could not last
And I lie on my bed devastated and numb
Half awaken eyes praying for a miracle to happen
And there I go again…crying a flood for you…
And you… long gone…will never know…
And I will never show…
I think about you all of the times,
what I did wrong what I did right,
did I give my love enough chances to survive,
or was the night the darkest before the light,
you could have waited, you could have trusted,
you could have been here right by my side,
was the reasoning not enough for you to believe
that I want you all my life, what is that you could not see
longing for an effort from your side,
to hold your belief , what did I have to fight
these handful of questions storm through my mind,
I tear my head apart, but they refuse to die,
I hurt myself to the point of being numb,
But they are back again, and I’m stacked again,
I see my hand, red with the strikes of the blade,
I see my face, blue and black, by my fuelled rage,
And the void never seems to fill within,
And I miss you, like suffering a punishment for a sin,
And you long gone…will never know,
Yes you will never know
I know I can’t mend this damaged myself in the coming days,
It will pain worse, maybe more than I can take,
Maybe I’ll go crazy with you running all through my mind and soul,
And one day I’ll drop down dead, will lose all my control,
I’ll cry a river for you, I’ll bleed an ocean for you…
People will mock me to crap, call me insane,
Abuses, insults, foul words, and I will still be the game,
I’ll fight the whole world to defend you existence in my heart,
I’ll fight the whole world, to make them realize, with you I will find a start,
Then I shall drown in these fake hopes of mine,
And realize they will never come true…
And I’ll die to hear your voice, to see you again…
But these feelings would just remain…
And you will never know, because I will never show,
Maybe I’ll rot and rust from inside,
Maybe I’ll drag myself closer to suicide….
But one fine day, ill wake up with you gone…
One fine day, I’ll wake up with something else on my mind,
One day, I will feel the air going down my lungs,
One day I will feel myself, kicking and young
One day all the questions will die,
One day the past…will just remain a past…
One day I’ll leave you behind…
Someday I’ll wake up and won’t have you on my mind…..
The night bleeds the inside on something that could not last
And I lie on my bed devastated and numb
Half awaken eyes praying for a miracle to happen
And there I go again…crying a flood for you…
And you… long gone…will never know…
And I will never show…
I think about you all of the times,
what I did wrong what I did right,
did I give my love enough chances to survive,
or was the night the darkest before the light,
you could have waited, you could have trusted,
you could have been here right by my side,
was the reasoning not enough for you to believe
that I want you all my life, what is that you could not see
longing for an effort from your side,
to hold your belief , what did I have to fight
these handful of questions storm through my mind,
I tear my head apart, but they refuse to die,
I hurt myself to the point of being numb,
But they are back again, and I’m stacked again,
I see my hand, red with the strikes of the blade,
I see my face, blue and black, by my fuelled rage,
And the void never seems to fill within,
And I miss you, like suffering a punishment for a sin,
And you long gone…will never know,
Yes you will never know
I know I can’t mend this damaged myself in the coming days,
It will pain worse, maybe more than I can take,
Maybe I’ll go crazy with you running all through my mind and soul,
And one day I’ll drop down dead, will lose all my control,
I’ll cry a river for you, I’ll bleed an ocean for you…
People will mock me to crap, call me insane,
Abuses, insults, foul words, and I will still be the game,
I’ll fight the whole world to defend you existence in my heart,
I’ll fight the whole world, to make them realize, with you I will find a start,
Then I shall drown in these fake hopes of mine,
And realize they will never come true…
And I’ll die to hear your voice, to see you again…
But these feelings would just remain…
And you will never know, because I will never show,
Maybe I’ll rot and rust from inside,
Maybe I’ll drag myself closer to suicide….
But one fine day, ill wake up with you gone…
One fine day, I’ll wake up with something else on my mind,
One day, I will feel the air going down my lungs,
One day I will feel myself, kicking and young
One day all the questions will die,
One day the past…will just remain a past…
One day I’ll leave you behind…
Someday I’ll wake up and won’t have you on my mind…..
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Why Nathuram Godsey was justified in killing Gandhi?
Blinded by the hypocritical facts and distorted truth, we Indians majority of us, tend to believe This man Nathuram Godsey was unjustified in killing gandhi and it was good that he was hanged to death. But most of us, refuse to see the reality. It has been fed into our very blood that he was a sinner a murder and hence was a criminal. But have we ever cared to look beyond the apparent. Have we tried to unfold the unseen? No, we haven't and that's why people like Gandhi and Nehru are still considered stars, icons, saints, while people like Bhagat Singh are termed as terrorist. It is a great shame on us. Anyways, let us take a look at some of the points mentioned in the self prepared document by Nathuram Godsey and open our closed eyes.
1. As I grew up I developed a tendency to free thinking unfettered by any superstitious allegiance to any isms, political or religious. That is why I worked actively for the eradication of untouchability and the caste system based on birth alone. I openly joined anti-caste movements and maintained that all Hindus were of equal status as to rights, social and religious and should be considered high or low on merit alone and not through the accident of birth in a particular caste or profession.
2. I have read the speeches and writings of Dadabhai Naoroji, Vivekanand, Gokhale, Tilak, along with the books of ancient and modern history of India and some prominent countries like England, France, America and Russia. Moreover I studied the tenets of Socialism and Marxism.
3. All this reading and thinking led me to believe it was my first duty to serve Hindudom and Hindus both as a patriot and as a world citizen. To secure the freedom and to safeguard the just interests of some thirty crores (300 million) of Hindus would automatically constitute the freedom and the well-being of all India, one fifth of human race.
4. In fact, hunour, duty and love of one's own kith and kin and country might often compel us to disregard non-violence and to use force. I could never conceive that an armed resistance to an aggression is unjust. I would consider it a religious and moral duty to resist and, if possible, to overpower such an enemy by use of force. [In the Ramayana] Rama killed Ravana in a tumultuous fight and relieved Sita. [In the Mahabharata], Krishna killed Kansa to end his wickedness; and Arjuna had to fight and slay quite a number of his friends and relations including the revered Bhishma because the latter was on the side of the aggressor. It is my firm belief that in dubbing Rama, Krishna and Arjuna as guilty of violence, the Mahatma betrayed a total ignorance of the springs of human action.
5. In condemning history's towering warriors like Shivaji, Rana Pratap and Guru Gobind Singh as misguided patriots, Gandhi has merely exposed his self-conceit. He was, paradoxical as it may appear, a violent pacifist who brought untold calamities on the country in the name of truth and non-violence.
6. The accumulating provocation of thirty-two years, culminating in his last pro-Muslim fast, at last goaded me to the conclusion that the existence of Gandhi should be brought to an end immediately.
7. If the country wanted his leadership, it had to accept his infallibility; if it did not, he would stand aloof from the Congress.
8. He alone was the Judge of everyone and every thing; he was the master brain guiding the civil disobedience movement; no other could know the technique of that movement. He alone knew when to begin and when to withdraw it.
9. Gandhi's pro-Muslim policy is blatantly in his perverse attitude on the question of the national language of India. It is quite obvious that Hindi has the most prior claim to be accepted as the premier language. In the beginning of his career in India, Gandhi gave a great impetus to Hindi but as he found that the Muslims did not like it, he became a champion of what is called Hindustani.
10. The charm and purity of the Hindi language was to be prostituted to please the Muslims. All his experiments were at the expense of the Hindus.
11. The Congress which had boasted of its nationalism and socialism secretly accepted Pakistan literally at the point of the bayonet and abjectly surrendered to Jinnah. India was vivisected and one-third of the Indian territory became foreign land to us from August 15, 1947.
12. This is what Gandhi had achieved after thirty years of undisputed dictatorship and this is what Congress party calls 'freedom' and 'peaceful transfer of power'. The Hindu-Muslim unity bubble was finally burst and a theocratic state was established with the consent of Nehru and his crowd and they have called 'freedom won by them with sacrifice' - whose sacrifice? When top leaders of Congress, with the consent of Gandhi, divided and tore the country -which we consider a deity of worship.
13. One of the conditions imposed by Gandhi for his breaking of the fast unto death related to the mosques in Delhi occupied by the Hindu refugees. But when Hindus in Pakistan were subjected to violent attacks he did not so much as utter a single word to protest and censure the Pakistan Government or the Muslims concerned.
14. Gandhi is being referred to as the Father of the Nation. But if that is so, he had failed his paternal duty inasmuch as he has acted very treacherously to the nation by his consenting to the partitioning of it.
15. I do say that my shots were fired at the person whose policy and action had brought rack and ruin and destruction to millions of Hindus. There was no legal machinery by which such an offender could be brought to book and for this reason I fired those fatal shots.
16. I now stand before the court to accept the full share of my responsibility for what I have done and the judge would, of course, pass against me such orders of sentence as may be considered proper. But I would like to add that I do not desire any mercy to be shown to me, nor do I wish that anyone else should beg for mercy on my behalf.
Think about it!! nyways you can view the whole document on http://ngodse.tripod.com/defense.htm
1. As I grew up I developed a tendency to free thinking unfettered by any superstitious allegiance to any isms, political or religious. That is why I worked actively for the eradication of untouchability and the caste system based on birth alone. I openly joined anti-caste movements and maintained that all Hindus were of equal status as to rights, social and religious and should be considered high or low on merit alone and not through the accident of birth in a particular caste or profession.
2. I have read the speeches and writings of Dadabhai Naoroji, Vivekanand, Gokhale, Tilak, along with the books of ancient and modern history of India and some prominent countries like England, France, America and Russia. Moreover I studied the tenets of Socialism and Marxism.
3. All this reading and thinking led me to believe it was my first duty to serve Hindudom and Hindus both as a patriot and as a world citizen. To secure the freedom and to safeguard the just interests of some thirty crores (300 million) of Hindus would automatically constitute the freedom and the well-being of all India, one fifth of human race.
4. In fact, hunour, duty and love of one's own kith and kin and country might often compel us to disregard non-violence and to use force. I could never conceive that an armed resistance to an aggression is unjust. I would consider it a religious and moral duty to resist and, if possible, to overpower such an enemy by use of force. [In the Ramayana] Rama killed Ravana in a tumultuous fight and relieved Sita. [In the Mahabharata], Krishna killed Kansa to end his wickedness; and Arjuna had to fight and slay quite a number of his friends and relations including the revered Bhishma because the latter was on the side of the aggressor. It is my firm belief that in dubbing Rama, Krishna and Arjuna as guilty of violence, the Mahatma betrayed a total ignorance of the springs of human action.
5. In condemning history's towering warriors like Shivaji, Rana Pratap and Guru Gobind Singh as misguided patriots, Gandhi has merely exposed his self-conceit. He was, paradoxical as it may appear, a violent pacifist who brought untold calamities on the country in the name of truth and non-violence.
6. The accumulating provocation of thirty-two years, culminating in his last pro-Muslim fast, at last goaded me to the conclusion that the existence of Gandhi should be brought to an end immediately.
7. If the country wanted his leadership, it had to accept his infallibility; if it did not, he would stand aloof from the Congress.
8. He alone was the Judge of everyone and every thing; he was the master brain guiding the civil disobedience movement; no other could know the technique of that movement. He alone knew when to begin and when to withdraw it.
9. Gandhi's pro-Muslim policy is blatantly in his perverse attitude on the question of the national language of India. It is quite obvious that Hindi has the most prior claim to be accepted as the premier language. In the beginning of his career in India, Gandhi gave a great impetus to Hindi but as he found that the Muslims did not like it, he became a champion of what is called Hindustani.
10. The charm and purity of the Hindi language was to be prostituted to please the Muslims. All his experiments were at the expense of the Hindus.
11. The Congress which had boasted of its nationalism and socialism secretly accepted Pakistan literally at the point of the bayonet and abjectly surrendered to Jinnah. India was vivisected and one-third of the Indian territory became foreign land to us from August 15, 1947.
12. This is what Gandhi had achieved after thirty years of undisputed dictatorship and this is what Congress party calls 'freedom' and 'peaceful transfer of power'. The Hindu-Muslim unity bubble was finally burst and a theocratic state was established with the consent of Nehru and his crowd and they have called 'freedom won by them with sacrifice' - whose sacrifice? When top leaders of Congress, with the consent of Gandhi, divided and tore the country -which we consider a deity of worship.
13. One of the conditions imposed by Gandhi for his breaking of the fast unto death related to the mosques in Delhi occupied by the Hindu refugees. But when Hindus in Pakistan were subjected to violent attacks he did not so much as utter a single word to protest and censure the Pakistan Government or the Muslims concerned.
14. Gandhi is being referred to as the Father of the Nation. But if that is so, he had failed his paternal duty inasmuch as he has acted very treacherously to the nation by his consenting to the partitioning of it.
15. I do say that my shots were fired at the person whose policy and action had brought rack and ruin and destruction to millions of Hindus. There was no legal machinery by which such an offender could be brought to book and for this reason I fired those fatal shots.
16. I now stand before the court to accept the full share of my responsibility for what I have done and the judge would, of course, pass against me such orders of sentence as may be considered proper. But I would like to add that I do not desire any mercy to be shown to me, nor do I wish that anyone else should beg for mercy on my behalf.
Think about it!! nyways you can view the whole document on http://ngodse.tripod.com/defense.htm
A True Hero - Shaheed Bhagat Singh and the sissy mohandas karamchand gandhi
"Inquilab Zindabad" (Long live the revolution)
Shaheed Bhagat Singh, the true indian martyr who is now cited as a terrorist in some places in india by some of the most digusting and corrupted minds of our so called leaders. And yes, not to forget Mahatama Gandhi is still the father of the nation, who left no stone untured in getting this martyr to death and then relentlessy masacarring India into two halves. And we the people of India call him Mahatama. This emanicated man who turned majority of India into a bunch of enunchs by telling them to plead the enemy to get out of their homes while our Bhagat Singh insisted on beating the hell out of them because its our land, our country, its us.
Some of the the most admirable aspects of the true hero:
1. He underwent a 63-day fast in jail, demanding equal rights for Indian and British political prisoners. Despite the use of violent and forceful feeding, the hero never gave up. He still insisted on hunger strike. I bet gandhi wud have died within weeks, he neither had the guts, nor the courage to withstand such a move. Even there he would have pleaded and licked the feet of jailors to get good food and clothing.
2. His legacy prompted youth in India to begin fighting for Indian independence. Not like gandhi who insisted on offereing both your cheeks and pieces of your butts to the aliens.
3. Avenged the killing of Lala Lajpat Rai by killing Saunders.
4. On April 8, 1929, Singh and Dutt threw a bomb onto the corridors of the assembly and shouted "Inquilab Zindabad!" ("Long Live the Revolution!"). This was followed by a shower of leaflets stating that it takes a loud voice to make the deaf hear.[ The bomb neither killed nor injured anyone. They could have escaped, but they chose to surrender, for whom? For us, for us to realise the need and importance of freedom. To awaken us and arm us with strenght. Not like sitting somewhere along the beach and telling Britishers we will not wear your clothes. He infused courage and motivation. He wanted us to stand up and fight for our rights.
5. At the time of trial, Bhagat Singh offered no defence, but utilized the occasion to propagate his ideal of freedom.
6. He never wanted to come in the way of Gandhi, on the other hand gandhi was the one who always condemned him.
And the worst gandhi could do to the country and this true hero
Gandhi had an opportunity to stop Singh's execution but did not. Gandhi was someone who was strongly at odds with Bhagat Singh and did not oppose his hanging. A variation on this theory is that Gandhi actively conspired with the British to have Singh executed.
And after that this wicked and horrible creature said ""The government certainly had the right to hang these (as if Bhagat Singh was a terrorist and this asshole was a saint) men. However, there are some rights which do credit to those who possess them only if they are enjoyed in name only.
Today, when i look back, i strongly believe that the assasination of gandhi was necessary, and after reading nathuram godsey's views, this man should have been killed earlier. We call him Mahatama. Look what this Mahatama has done. Divided the country, and still we are paying the price of his self contained decision.
The Hindu-Muslim unity bubble was finally burst and a theocratic state was established with the consent of Nehru and his crowd and they have called 'freedom won by them with sacrifice' - whose sacrifice? When top leaders of Congress, with the consent of Gandhi, divided and tore the country -which we consider a deity of worship
The same country he supported has become our biggest enemy. Its been more than 50 years and we still pay the price for his selfish mistake. His fake, hypocritical inner sense, has led us to our downfall.
One of the conditions imposed by Gandhi for his breaking of the fast unto death related to the mosques in Delhi occupied by the Hindu refugees. But when Hindus in Pakistan were subjected to violent attacks he did not so much as utter a single word to protest and censure the
Pakistan Government or the Muslims concerned. Such was his hunger for an image that wud ensure his permanent place in minds of indian people.
Long live the hero
Shaheed Bhagat Singh is and will always be considered one of the finest and courageous leader who fought for the country and the people. Who told us to stand on our feet and fight for our right. Who told us to earn our independence and not just beg for it. Who taught us to be one - Indians. I salute this hero with all my deepest respect. Long live the hero.
Shaheed Bhagat Singh, the true indian martyr who is now cited as a terrorist in some places in india by some of the most digusting and corrupted minds of our so called leaders. And yes, not to forget Mahatama Gandhi is still the father of the nation, who left no stone untured in getting this martyr to death and then relentlessy masacarring India into two halves. And we the people of India call him Mahatama. This emanicated man who turned majority of India into a bunch of enunchs by telling them to plead the enemy to get out of their homes while our Bhagat Singh insisted on beating the hell out of them because its our land, our country, its us.
Some of the the most admirable aspects of the true hero:
1. He underwent a 63-day fast in jail, demanding equal rights for Indian and British political prisoners. Despite the use of violent and forceful feeding, the hero never gave up. He still insisted on hunger strike. I bet gandhi wud have died within weeks, he neither had the guts, nor the courage to withstand such a move. Even there he would have pleaded and licked the feet of jailors to get good food and clothing.
2. His legacy prompted youth in India to begin fighting for Indian independence. Not like gandhi who insisted on offereing both your cheeks and pieces of your butts to the aliens.
3. Avenged the killing of Lala Lajpat Rai by killing Saunders.
4. On April 8, 1929, Singh and Dutt threw a bomb onto the corridors of the assembly and shouted "Inquilab Zindabad!" ("Long Live the Revolution!"). This was followed by a shower of leaflets stating that it takes a loud voice to make the deaf hear.[ The bomb neither killed nor injured anyone. They could have escaped, but they chose to surrender, for whom? For us, for us to realise the need and importance of freedom. To awaken us and arm us with strenght. Not like sitting somewhere along the beach and telling Britishers we will not wear your clothes. He infused courage and motivation. He wanted us to stand up and fight for our rights.
5. At the time of trial, Bhagat Singh offered no defence, but utilized the occasion to propagate his ideal of freedom.
6. He never wanted to come in the way of Gandhi, on the other hand gandhi was the one who always condemned him.
And the worst gandhi could do to the country and this true hero
Gandhi had an opportunity to stop Singh's execution but did not. Gandhi was someone who was strongly at odds with Bhagat Singh and did not oppose his hanging. A variation on this theory is that Gandhi actively conspired with the British to have Singh executed.
And after that this wicked and horrible creature said ""The government certainly had the right to hang these (as if Bhagat Singh was a terrorist and this asshole was a saint) men. However, there are some rights which do credit to those who possess them only if they are enjoyed in name only.
Today, when i look back, i strongly believe that the assasination of gandhi was necessary, and after reading nathuram godsey's views, this man should have been killed earlier. We call him Mahatama. Look what this Mahatama has done. Divided the country, and still we are paying the price of his self contained decision.
The Hindu-Muslim unity bubble was finally burst and a theocratic state was established with the consent of Nehru and his crowd and they have called 'freedom won by them with sacrifice' - whose sacrifice? When top leaders of Congress, with the consent of Gandhi, divided and tore the country -which we consider a deity of worship
The same country he supported has become our biggest enemy. Its been more than 50 years and we still pay the price for his selfish mistake. His fake, hypocritical inner sense, has led us to our downfall.
One of the conditions imposed by Gandhi for his breaking of the fast unto death related to the mosques in Delhi occupied by the Hindu refugees. But when Hindus in Pakistan were subjected to violent attacks he did not so much as utter a single word to protest and censure the
Pakistan Government or the Muslims concerned. Such was his hunger for an image that wud ensure his permanent place in minds of indian people.
Long live the hero
Shaheed Bhagat Singh is and will always be considered one of the finest and courageous leader who fought for the country and the people. Who told us to stand on our feet and fight for our right. Who told us to earn our independence and not just beg for it. Who taught us to be one - Indians. I salute this hero with all my deepest respect. Long live the hero.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Break what you have built.....
The love and the sweat,
Feelings that never met,
Wandering eyes searching for truth,
What you witness is a bitter truth,
Broken by the stings of unreciprocated love..
Lamed by the hate, fated with bluff,
Insanity taking over reason and senses,
Black is the world, black is bliss,
Tears for that long gone someone,
You crave and die, but you are forgotten,
You built the house with dreams of the best,
And one fine day you are labeled as a pest
Thrown out of mind, thrown out of heart,
And you crawl like a lame fuck, oblivious of another start
A life comes to an end, suicide without guilt,
Law of love…break what you have built
What matters the most, now has to be forgotten,
If you cannot lie, you gotta pretend,
That this life moves on, like some creaky water out of the blues
Keep your sulking eyes open, for some good news,
To come your ways, why should we obey?
When we know deep inside,
It still bleeds and hurts, the feelings never die,
Like the most turbulent storm, the past crumbles the very present,
Blinded with suffocation of misery, there is no way to tread,
Everything sucks like the monotony of waking up every damn day,
Why won’t this infection of the past, ever go way,
Pick up the stones, pelt the stilt,
Law of love….break what you have built
Forget the love, forget the care,
Forget what you did, forget what you dared
Deny the existence of someone in this world,
Forget the name, forget what was shared
Forget those eyes, forget that stare,
Forget what you have known,
You fucking act like a clown,
You try to swim, but you can only drown,
And to please everyone around, hide your frowns,
Jammed between the stoic present and bleak ahead,
What’s the use of suffering like this, try and tread
On the paths of the unknown where uncertainty embraces you like a long deprived widow,
Hold the hand of solitude and darkness begins to glow,
Lost in your world, lost in your thoughts,
One day you find yourself in asylum, secure and locked,
Coz they said, you could not recover from the loss,
Your presence is unwanted, your proximity is gross
Because all you wanted was love, what you received was jilt.
and you could not live by the law...
The law of love….break what you’ve built..
Feelings that never met,
Wandering eyes searching for truth,
What you witness is a bitter truth,
Broken by the stings of unreciprocated love..
Lamed by the hate, fated with bluff,
Insanity taking over reason and senses,
Black is the world, black is bliss,
Tears for that long gone someone,
You crave and die, but you are forgotten,
You built the house with dreams of the best,
And one fine day you are labeled as a pest
Thrown out of mind, thrown out of heart,
And you crawl like a lame fuck, oblivious of another start
A life comes to an end, suicide without guilt,
Law of love…break what you have built
What matters the most, now has to be forgotten,
If you cannot lie, you gotta pretend,
That this life moves on, like some creaky water out of the blues
Keep your sulking eyes open, for some good news,
To come your ways, why should we obey?
When we know deep inside,
It still bleeds and hurts, the feelings never die,
Like the most turbulent storm, the past crumbles the very present,
Blinded with suffocation of misery, there is no way to tread,
Everything sucks like the monotony of waking up every damn day,
Why won’t this infection of the past, ever go way,
Pick up the stones, pelt the stilt,
Law of love….break what you have built
Forget the love, forget the care,
Forget what you did, forget what you dared
Deny the existence of someone in this world,
Forget the name, forget what was shared
Forget those eyes, forget that stare,
Forget what you have known,
You fucking act like a clown,
You try to swim, but you can only drown,
And to please everyone around, hide your frowns,
Jammed between the stoic present and bleak ahead,
What’s the use of suffering like this, try and tread
On the paths of the unknown where uncertainty embraces you like a long deprived widow,
Hold the hand of solitude and darkness begins to glow,
Lost in your world, lost in your thoughts,
One day you find yourself in asylum, secure and locked,
Coz they said, you could not recover from the loss,
Your presence is unwanted, your proximity is gross
Because all you wanted was love, what you received was jilt.
and you could not live by the law...
The law of love….break what you’ve built..
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Last poem i write tonight...
And perhaps, on the melancholy notes, I think of her face
And when the sun sets down, I still drown in that craze..
When the twilight sang besides the love swept ambiance,
It was you, it was me, and it was us..
When the rain falls down on my tears…
I still miss your arms around my trembling body
The warmth of your smile, melted my fears
Now on the lonely paths of pelting showers,
Feelings flow like blood from a freshly cut wound
Down that drain of the black, where time stops and moments freeze
And then its just you, its just me and its just us…
The sun kisses my face like you kissed me at the dawn of the day,
I can still feel the moist of your lips on me, just like the fresh dew sets delicately on the flowers..
And I when I inhale the first breeze of the morning…I still feel the scent of your body going inside me….
Settling deep….wandering free…
And the moment I touch the wet grass, I can feel your body in my hands….
Oh you were so beautiful like the precious gift of the god…
And now when I look at the orange painted across the blues of the sky…
I still feel you are with me…running your fingers through my hair… and then you smile..
It seems the days stretch beyond the fringes of forever, and how I cannot break from this wicked spell of bitter truth….
That never seems to end… and stays on like that air in my lungs…
And then… its just you, its just me… and its just us..
When I lie down on the empty bed..
And the blank stares searching your face in the void of my roof…
And I look back at my pillow…
Where once you lay besides me….hugging me tight
As if holding onto me until eternity…
Like your eyes looked deep into me and pulled the deepest of secrets
And I felt complete with you…in your arms..
Never wanted anyone…just you, just me… and just us…
And tonight I write this poem for you..
Because I still miss you by side…
I still…miss my love…the one I used to shower on you
And I still miss the way…I used to make up for the fights..
And I still miss going on the way…that led me to your home..
And how I came flying… with the deepest of passion and love that turned me blind..
And I saw only you…only you…
And how words stammered to beautify the charm i witnessed in you….
I write this poem for you…in my saddest thoughts..
When I want you to be here…more than ever before..
But you are long gone…and I’m forgotten,
And I feel the need of hugging you… like I never felt before..
But the warmth has long gone…you took it away from me…
And how I still love you deep inside me…I still miss you..
But today…I write my last poem for you..
Today I feel the saddest…more than the extremes of blues..
And maybe I shall die tonight…with this paper in my hand…
And maybe what I have just said…is going to come true…
And when the sun sets down, I still drown in that craze..
When the twilight sang besides the love swept ambiance,
It was you, it was me, and it was us..
When the rain falls down on my tears…
I still miss your arms around my trembling body
The warmth of your smile, melted my fears
Now on the lonely paths of pelting showers,
Feelings flow like blood from a freshly cut wound
Down that drain of the black, where time stops and moments freeze
And then its just you, its just me and its just us…
The sun kisses my face like you kissed me at the dawn of the day,
I can still feel the moist of your lips on me, just like the fresh dew sets delicately on the flowers..
And I when I inhale the first breeze of the morning…I still feel the scent of your body going inside me….
Settling deep….wandering free…
And the moment I touch the wet grass, I can feel your body in my hands….
Oh you were so beautiful like the precious gift of the god…
And now when I look at the orange painted across the blues of the sky…
I still feel you are with me…running your fingers through my hair… and then you smile..
It seems the days stretch beyond the fringes of forever, and how I cannot break from this wicked spell of bitter truth….
That never seems to end… and stays on like that air in my lungs…
And then… its just you, its just me… and its just us..
When I lie down on the empty bed..
And the blank stares searching your face in the void of my roof…
And I look back at my pillow…
Where once you lay besides me….hugging me tight
As if holding onto me until eternity…
Like your eyes looked deep into me and pulled the deepest of secrets
And I felt complete with you…in your arms..
Never wanted anyone…just you, just me… and just us…
And tonight I write this poem for you..
Because I still miss you by side…
I still…miss my love…the one I used to shower on you
And I still miss the way…I used to make up for the fights..
And I still miss going on the way…that led me to your home..
And how I came flying… with the deepest of passion and love that turned me blind..
And I saw only you…only you…
And how words stammered to beautify the charm i witnessed in you….
I write this poem for you…in my saddest thoughts..
When I want you to be here…more than ever before..
But you are long gone…and I’m forgotten,
And I feel the need of hugging you… like I never felt before..
But the warmth has long gone…you took it away from me…
And how I still love you deep inside me…I still miss you..
But today…I write my last poem for you..
Today I feel the saddest…more than the extremes of blues..
And maybe I shall die tonight…with this paper in my hand…
And maybe what I have just said…is going to come true…
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Very much in love and very much in hate..
Through that open window of the shattered glass, I can still sense you coming to me…
Running, screaming, panting… longing for me…
And this sudden thought feeds the dying love once again…
Very much in love….I am very much in hate again….
I still miss you by my side…when I lie alone on my bed…
I still miss your arms around me…the momentary love that u fed..
and I still miss those eyes that looked deep inside..
and I still miss the fantasies that went for a ride…
and I still miss those talks that never seemed to end…
coffee at odd hours…making love…beautiful was that each minute spent..
I still miss kissing your eyes before you went to sleep..
I still miss you with every breath I take…
Within me you dwell so deep…
And there came that day… your ego disgraced my love..
And I still remember…me…broken and bluffed…
And I still remember…I was labeled as a pest..
The one who feasted upon your time, space and your fucking friends..
And I still remember…how much unwanted I felt..
Loser to the core, despised when knelt
Once again…I still miss the way you made me laugh…
After those long hours, I cried and craved for your presence with me…
And I still miss your touch…when you hugged me tight and whispered me in the ears..
that you love me..
how we spent those sleepless nights…looking at each other
the time used to fly away.. and it never seemed enough..
And I still miss…those moments that never seemed to last…
Turning off the light…and that slow dance…
You sacked a thunder at me… the way you knocked me out..
Out of your life…out of your mind…
And I still remember…how you said it never mattered
And I still remember…every moment I was shattered
And I still remember…all the times you said I quit..
And I still remember…all the times I begged…cried and trembled…
And I still remember…my creeds unheeded…my despair unheard…
My misery undone…my life spurned..
I still remember…
The battle between the heart and the mind…seems to go on and on…
Split up inside of me…what is right…what was wrong….
I still miss you my love… for I loved you for you being you
I still long to see you with me…together and new..
But I don’t want you anymore…for my love was scorned
Mocked to the depths…of no returning back..
I still cry for you… in the lonely hours..
I still love you…no matter how far..
But I hate you for what you have said and done..
And I hate you for leaving me undone…
Cursed my life…sealed my fate..
Very much in love...I’m feeling very much in hate…
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
One of the best Sad Poems
By Pablo Neruda
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
Monday, May 19, 2008
All i have to do is take my mind off her...
And all I have to do is take my mind off her..
And all I have to do is forget her…
Sharp words daggered into my heart…left my soul to bleed.
It felt heavy and hard…as it fell on me, my most cherished creed
Love they say is accompanied by madness and is blind..
But my love had eyes, they saw the blade….it left me to the grind..
Every emotion thwarted and smashed against her hate…
She stood tall as ever…and I lay down and dead…stretched straight..
Her thoughts questioned and inquired my efforts
Her sanity….blamed me…spoofed my insane guts…
Utter refusal was the answer to my every endeavor..
Denial was the repercussion to my ever-longing behavior..
She pulled the moments out of my soul…
Examined, analyzed and dropped them on the floor..
Black was the reward to the rainbow of my love..
The cost was counted and it left me feeling like a whore…
The echoes were quite…the lull prevailed..
The storm had struck…my care was nailed..
And I felt the pain…down to my heart..
She came.. and finished me up… while I was looking for a start..
Fights.. had gone worse…taste of the bitter began to sprawl..
the walls that guarded the love…began to fall…
the damage was maximum this time..
it left no traces of trembling hopes..
which held us back after every nightmare…
no more were those ropes..
the world has counseled me to move on….
My silence counseled me to move on…
My brain counseled me to move on…
But the journey has already come to an end…
Fate, luck, charm….nothing on no more I depend..
The lines seem to vanish away real fast…
The numbered breathes…preparing for the last..
Sleepless eyes… chasing away the night from the window of the room…
The day begins to mourn…my unspoken doom….
It has been days now…life is slowly crawling towards death…
I can feel them getting tired…I can feel my exasperated breaths..
And still… they try to wake me up from my past..
And still they try to make me believe I should last…
And I still remember they speak the same words as ever before…
all I have to do is take my mind off her..
And all I have to do is forget her…
And all I have to do is forget her…
Sharp words daggered into my heart…left my soul to bleed.
It felt heavy and hard…as it fell on me, my most cherished creed
Love they say is accompanied by madness and is blind..
But my love had eyes, they saw the blade….it left me to the grind..
Every emotion thwarted and smashed against her hate…
She stood tall as ever…and I lay down and dead…stretched straight..
Her thoughts questioned and inquired my efforts
Her sanity….blamed me…spoofed my insane guts…
Utter refusal was the answer to my every endeavor..
Denial was the repercussion to my ever-longing behavior..
She pulled the moments out of my soul…
Examined, analyzed and dropped them on the floor..
Black was the reward to the rainbow of my love..
The cost was counted and it left me feeling like a whore…
The echoes were quite…the lull prevailed..
The storm had struck…my care was nailed..
And I felt the pain…down to my heart..
She came.. and finished me up… while I was looking for a start..
Fights.. had gone worse…taste of the bitter began to sprawl..
the walls that guarded the love…began to fall…
the damage was maximum this time..
it left no traces of trembling hopes..
which held us back after every nightmare…
no more were those ropes..
the world has counseled me to move on….
My silence counseled me to move on…
My brain counseled me to move on…
But the journey has already come to an end…
Fate, luck, charm….nothing on no more I depend..
The lines seem to vanish away real fast…
The numbered breathes…preparing for the last..
Sleepless eyes… chasing away the night from the window of the room…
The day begins to mourn…my unspoken doom….
It has been days now…life is slowly crawling towards death…
I can feel them getting tired…I can feel my exasperated breaths..
And still… they try to wake me up from my past..
And still they try to make me believe I should last…
And I still remember they speak the same words as ever before…
all I have to do is take my mind off her..
And all I have to do is forget her…
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Story of a Sucker!!
Blames, questions and madness…eating away my soul
Feel like a sinner in this life….left to just crawl..
Creeping towards the shadows of the dark,
Empty mind…wounded with words so stark…
Bleeding thoughts poisoning the sanity within..
As the world combines to annihilate my mark..
Sitting alone on a broken porch…
I hate myself for being alive….
And what I hate most…is the fact that I cannot die….
Falling again…and again…because I want to stand tall..
Damned is my every wish….my every want walled…..
I lived for those… who hate me the most..
I cried for those…who hurt me the most…
Guess I was born to be bashed..
Or may be I surrendered my self…in a rash…
Look at me now.. a piece of dismantled dignity..
Creep as I call myself, a wasted reality,
Drink and drop… and wish that I just don’t wake up again..
Loosing all the times to this self made game…
Hating myself every day and every night..
And I deny to see all your wrongs and rights…
The cloud of insanity taking over me…
It makes me feel useless….it makes me feel free…
Sometimes I even try to starve myself to death..
But this inflicted body wants to live through the rest of the hell..
Strange world and strange thoughts surround my mind..
Delusions taking over me…and I feel so blind…
Last night I heard people calling me insane..
I even remember the word jerk… as they called my name..
I guess its another sob story…in this world of ruins..
Same old crap…wrapped in a different kind of news..
But I didn’t mean to wake your mind up..
I didn’t mean to write this and make you come and ask me..ssup.
Maybe my last confessions before death…
Confessions...or I believe my obnoxious naked reality or maybe u can call it crap..
Bbye..world…..i never meant to hurt you…
And I wonder why…why every time u knocked me down
Why every time you gifted the wounds…
Why every time you made me suffer..
Why…was I termed…a bloody sucker….
Feel like a sinner in this life….left to just crawl..
Creeping towards the shadows of the dark,
Empty mind…wounded with words so stark…
Bleeding thoughts poisoning the sanity within..
As the world combines to annihilate my mark..
Sitting alone on a broken porch…
I hate myself for being alive….
And what I hate most…is the fact that I cannot die….
Falling again…and again…because I want to stand tall..
Damned is my every wish….my every want walled…..
I lived for those… who hate me the most..
I cried for those…who hurt me the most…
Guess I was born to be bashed..
Or may be I surrendered my self…in a rash…
Look at me now.. a piece of dismantled dignity..
Creep as I call myself, a wasted reality,
Drink and drop… and wish that I just don’t wake up again..
Loosing all the times to this self made game…
Hating myself every day and every night..
And I deny to see all your wrongs and rights…
The cloud of insanity taking over me…
It makes me feel useless….it makes me feel free…
Sometimes I even try to starve myself to death..
But this inflicted body wants to live through the rest of the hell..
Strange world and strange thoughts surround my mind..
Delusions taking over me…and I feel so blind…
Last night I heard people calling me insane..
I even remember the word jerk… as they called my name..
I guess its another sob story…in this world of ruins..
Same old crap…wrapped in a different kind of news..
But I didn’t mean to wake your mind up..
I didn’t mean to write this and make you come and ask me..ssup.
Maybe my last confessions before death…
Confessions...or I believe my obnoxious naked reality or maybe u can call it crap..
Bbye..world…..i never meant to hurt you…
And I wonder why…why every time u knocked me down
Why every time you gifted the wounds…
Why every time you made me suffer..
Why…was I termed…a bloody sucker….
The Eleven Satanic Rules of the Earth
The Eleven Satanic Rules of the Earth
by Anton Szandor LaVey ©1967
1. Do not give opinions or advice unless you are asked.
2. Do not tell your troubles to others unless you are sure they want to hear them.
3. When in another’s lair, show him respect or else do not go there.
4. If a guest in your lair annoys you, treat him cruelly and without mercy.
5. Do not make sexual advances unless you are given the mating signal.
6. Do not take that which does not belong to you unless it is a burden to the other person and he cries out to be relieved.
7. Acknowledge the power of magic if you have employed it successfully to obtain your desires. If you deny the power of magic after having called upon it with success, you will lose all you have obtained.
8. Do not complain about anything to which you need not subject yourself.
9. Do not harm little children.
10. Do not kill non-human animals unless you are attacked or for your food.
11. When walking in open territory, bother no one. If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, destroy him.
Friday, January 4, 2008
umm!! crap or something like that..
In the wake of lonely morning hours..
The stillness in my room makes me sick, sicker
Resting on a perched piece of wood, my thoughts begin to fall down, quicker
Open eyes and beating heart adamant against the death that knocks on the door
And I don’t have a life left to get up and open
My childhood shook me against the grey colors of wasted moments on ma terrace
One black tire of a car, and a stick in ma hand,
Away from the world, oblivious of friends
Hours rolled with the tire that rolled with me.
Plucking the dried leaves from a tired tree that stood for long,
Wanting to break down, wanting to fall apart just like me,
Always lonely
Bullied against the innocence that I possessed
The world after my silence, and my mind could never rest
Friends who mocked, people who thrashed,
When their fun was celebrated, I was trashed
The dust and the me,
Friends together, all other enemies,
Never to stand up again, we lay on the ground,
Hugged each other tight, free of the frowns
Love that escaped my very presence
Hatred that bred against the feelings
Ignorance that wiped out hope
A lover boy left reeling
And now as the disdained epitome of misery
I build my own ground
I build my own grave
I build my own death
Life has really not been sweet, so I’m being the same to death
But it doesn’t matter now, the sun is coming is coming down
The bottle of wine is empty now,
No money left with the me, who just broke down
Sleep my friend, the fainting sanity whispers in my mind,
For tomorrow your eyes shall again be awake,
And I just wish they don’t
And how I wish they just don’t
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Denial of acceptance...
Clinging onto tattered pieces of betrayed past
Confused and dazed into feelings of hopelessness that have amassed
Resonating thoughts of a willful suicide
Symbolic mourning of a life…in water drained eyes that cried..
Constant invasion of devastating emotions
terrible love for a murderous malignity has begun…
Survival of vengeance amongst feelings that have died..
Bleeding soul embracing a wounded pride..
Lips sealed with an utter refusal against words
Silent screaming and deafening silence have allied
Numbness taking cover over already frozen blood
Torn apart every time at the shore of eyes the searing and billowing flood
Suffocating the sighing marks of already gagged memory
Severing the ties from the enchanting and the beauty
The resonant waves of resurrecting vengeance
Fills the soul with the burning black of the coal
Emotions flashed across the face like the sweep of sun-rent clouds over a quiet landscape
The insanity of a wild storm starts to cement the breeding hate
The Gone Haunts like the memory of some former happiness
Uncontrollable mourning just like the rage of the lust
The denial of acceptance banks across the stagnant water of life
Suffering grows creative, canvas becomes the body, the brush becomes the knife
voice like mournful bells crying on the wind
deafening trumpets for the rise of failure playing through a perennial stint..
Standing two steps behind the free fall of death
The incorrigible agony the agonized heart caressed
The hand waves a final goodbye to the useless sham of the world
A soul that lived death.. dying like a life at last blessed..
The impregnable emotions pushed to the fringes of deception
Loyalty has been proven, with misery emerged the best liaison
Nothing to lose after the loss of life that happened in the past
Prejudice against life into the creeping death has already begun fast
The autumn sweeps the dead leaves on the face of a dead man, mocking
The denial of acceptance….they say can still be seen, stalking…
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