Bricks and Mansions



Stripping away time,

Priding in the name,

Embracing the glories,

Closeting the mistakes away.


Beginning with desire,

So ignorant, so innocent,

Unwittingly walking into chaos,

Of rational choices and practical thoughts.

Joining the many,

An urge, a necessity,

Into the abyss of blemished sorts.


Real is the toil,

That amounts to nothing,

Whilst soaring,

With ambitions above the ground.


Starting as stepping stones,

Laying patterns of bricks,

Moulding the flexible,

Into concrete so rigid.


Changing into the inevitable,

Building glass houses,

So fragile, so brittle.

Knowing they would break,

Hurling ethics its way.


Selling lies,

 So boldly, so freely,

Deliberately hiding,

The workings of the in-betweens.


Returning nowhere,

Blinded and unaware,

Visions of success,

So tall, so real,

Blinking at monuments,

Buried under the mansion of politics.

A rivers sorrow



Shedding no tears of grief,

Nor of reprieve,

Sitting there on the fringes of my existence,

Sipping your idealistic lies.

Travelling far and wide,

I breathe, I flow

With no qualms by my side.

Storing the floating images,

Of muddy, scarred, unreachable faces.

Making a path,

Not of wrath or destruction.

Arriving to known,

Unwelcomed like an inconvenience in my home.

Fitting me into moulds,

You tame me,

Imprisoned by these grey walls,

My identity is best unknown.

Lying dormant,

In these shackles of imposed towers,

Turning into snapshots of your whims,

Watched by the guards of your lair.

The blues of my beauty,

Shroud the reality,

Bleak and withered,

Willing to leave all that is mine.

I change, I burn.

Passing into a new phase,

Leaving the evidence behind

The corpses of your reminiscence

Showcasing your bellied mistakes

Hidden under what is rightfully mine.

With the turn of the sun,

I will be back ,

Holding no treason,

It isn’t death , I know ,

That your cries would fill me up , when I really go.

From the other side of the Window.


Waking up to another day
Peeping into another world
The same sense of sight, in a different light…

Looking at the buildings unbound
Trivialities, pluralities, facades gone
Measured instead by yard sticks of thoughts…

Walking through a mirage
Seeking spaces, inhabiting images
Perfect, seamless, useless …

Dead is the world around
Bound by a realm of rhyme and reason
Of aesthetics that fly with the season…

Strolling the streets of private perversions
Shopping for knowledge in dark boxes of collision
Switching loci from the insane, the absurd, the accidental… 

Squinting at tainted skies of distant dreams
Hopes, desires, penned by jargons trite
Struggling with windows of perception, of respite…

No intent, no purpose
Overwhelmed, groping the void
Waking up to reality…

…While consciousness sleeps



I recently watched the movie “the perks of being a wallflower ” after thumbing through the book. there has been a lot said about the movie , a lot more said about the storyline and even more so said about the cast and the crew.I do not have anymore to add to it.For me it was a good movie with some poignant moments that would be remembered only to be forgotten ,which is the beauty in itself.

It was something that Charlie said that I couldn’t forget ,”Right now we are alive and in this moment I swear we are infinite.”

I often wonder what it would be like to be infinite.Would we have corny lines to belt out ? or would be just bottle it up to let the moment be pickled in the reflections of our grainy memories?  I guess to feel infinite is to be ourselves (or not !). It’s not about throwing caution into the winds yet it is all about saying ” I  ” without others into the questions, with no comparison before or after.

There are not many moments of such pure infinite-ness in our memories and I should think we should be glad for it. The essential basics of  infinite-ness like  being yourself ,being absurd , being in love , being rooted and the world pass you by are all there . Our mind is already overloaded with so many categorizations ,that we shouldn’t burden ourselves with anymore of these.Perhaps we  should let it just be .To see and let it just be infinite with look at the dealings of life ,to challenge the mundane things in the most possible  screwed up ways and yet feel that ,this is there and it belongs to start and end right now, like a self combustible capsule. Everybody should be lucky to recognize that one infinite moment , and maybe if I were religious I’d just say , “hey there ! today I met GOD.”