the beauty...
Close your eyes,
see the grass
grasp with the vivid colors,
dance around, drowning yourself into the very depths
of smell, visual, hears
Smell the grass
The moving waters,
And the jubilance of jingling beauty
All around in the corners
Jingling is the beauty,
keep a finger on your lips,
and linger.
ii
Finger on your lips,
hear the noise of jabbering jaws,
and the rush and hush
of the nature all around…
Close your eyes,
Hear the car,
hear the bus,
hear the cycle,
Smell the dust,
and the deteriorated lust
hushing movements
laments of terrible life
And the jubilance of jingling beauty
All around in the corners
Jingling is the beauty
keep a finger on your lips
and linger for always.
III
What was the last time you saw a beauty?
There is no difference between ugliness and beauty...
It matters if you see the cyclers going on the wearied roads, sunshine dancing through the sprinkle of leave, or the smell of earth flourishing, flowers of all hues and tones, it matters if you see clearly the beauty of simplest things , because beauty lies on beholder of eyes.
It matters on you, it is the irony who loves the piece of building when lost in forest, it is irony when he loves piece of nature lost in building, and it is irony how we love the opposites, always.
It matters on you, your hue and color behind that mask of skin, red or blue, yellow or blue.
It matters; on one simple thing...the beauty and ugliness are same things.
IV
I am sitting here, on the verandah of my house and yellow sunlight splashes all over, on my brown pants, my white diary paper and my slightly oily hands... throwing out the thousand words, binding each other... I make an image. I can see everything from here. A world's melodrama before my very eyes. The cycle creaks as it move on the dusty forlorn roads... the sound of police car just roaming around the roads having nothing to do... a mother's scream for the child's disobedience, the crystal clear soft chirping of the sparrows, perched on the tree and the horn… ear striking horn of the impatient driver… I hear mosque’s Allah! Allah!... a cooker is whistling… I see a vain trail to find salt, I feel impatience, anger… someone complains about the weather… someone complaining about how short is twenty four hour day… whoosh of wind… horn of car, all are screaming for their potential for normalcy. This is unendable... world's melodrama. A beauty in simple things.
V
White birds small like a fairy
tree sings that every breeze, every tone anew
Even without any companion, I do not complain, I am not alone.
Life buzz echo flow around me, in rays almost seeable
silence almost drownable
and me and me and me almost saying
"I AM THE KING OF THE WORLD!!!"
VI
Listen to the rain
and the feathers of the penguin flying to dry
and the splatter of drops on fluid
dew forms on your window
blurring the picture
we so form
Cracks of destruction will dim
every scene ever seen
I
And on the dust full forlorn I walk,
visualizing, deducing, the man’s eventful history,
spiraling through the eyes of world’s profound
splashing onto the books,
the wars, the towns, the cities, evolving
Deceptions, Loves, Cruel-s, Sad
the reforms, the laws, the world, the myths
all vanishes and comes through the seventy nine ages
II
Destroy into thousands of crack
tremble destruct, turn away!
You will not stay apiece...
cracks of mirrors destroy with your every scene...
DESTORY into thousands of millions lakhs of pieces
powder into crystals of glass...
tremble DESTRUCT... turn away...
You will not stay apiece...
cracks of mirrors will destroy every feel every truth...
Everything never remains...
III
It is all silence. The wind is roaring with pain and dust. In a distant time ago, there were beautiful buildings and chattering townspeople standing here, but where they have gone? The time and wasteful wars have destroyed everything and left behind dust, blood, and ghosts of memories… A crow sings in his croaky voice, singing a cacophony of greed, revenge and jealousy. I am curious… why people travel so great a length for self-achievements?... I rubbed my finger on the sand… All what they get is dust.
IV
She stands there
dressed like a ghost.
She drench herself in the water and sound of the falling rain
she cries as she see
the ruins and blood of the past war
drifting endlessly all around her
Stony broken tired ties
claustrophic clashes of sword sound
army screaming like thunder clouds
arrows throwing death.........
Those memories echoed in her ear
in a pain pressure to her drums
and comes whoosh of wind
throwing around the dust and storm of memories
vanished in a blink.
V
I looked upon that mirror,
and I,
I saw myself to my eyes
and those eyes matched to the eyes of a memory,
which looked upon me myself.
That memory happy or sad it may be,
but it still echoes
through valleys and mountains and sky.
That dawn of laugh
behind which is the night,
and a moon of longing
longing for the days behind.
It is different colors of life
And thousands other emotions
I
Seven elements come, mix,
to the power of heights, dare say or not,
to the power of heavens, dare say,
to the power screaming through your mind…
sloshing, slipping, trembling waving…
in looping slow waves rounding…
and going through yours mind’s sides
playing the music’s heights…
II
Happy you are
so much you can be
every tooth filled smile
may you share be
And he, before you
will return your gift
with another smile alight
And with that smile
travel that every mile
don’t fear nor complain
don’t be scared and face
the greatest of your dread true
with that tooth filled smile
and sing along that road
bordered with every substance and rock
many trouble to crack
many tunes to mumble
in that road
III
Anger is the fire
burns the bearer
All those near
with fire and crack and dust
You, the bearer of the anger
never will know,
where anger will take you…
Narrowing the roads,
bending it goes,
and never you know where you crash
Make you heart of ice,
so to make the fire take more height,
to burn you alive
The first of crack of the fire,
r /> the famine of forever
Sad is you are,
Sadness will freeze you heart,
frozen bone will paralyze…
make you the loner
drown your life….
Cry your heart out for once, dear
leak out those tears
Then remove your load from your back
that load of grief, sadness and madness…
Tear the Tears from your eyes,
says the second---and move on, drying your cries.
Confine yourself to yourself
Self-inside you…
and flutter your senses into the waters,
woven upon you…
feel the peace, playing its keys,
just like a melodious song…
Feel the rest, slower the pace
of the time itself…
peace, let it clench you,
let it clench you hard on its warm lap,
and cuddle you with warm hands.
The third trembles: Peer inside the mind’s insides,
drown yourself into its whites.
III
Torrents tore across the terrains
Clouds, angry, furious, ranged down...
Into the whirlpool of tear and torments I drown.
down and down and down
Speak, what the happiness sadness have left me
for the peace I long for time so long
But the see the romance of god's wish.
I see it in all I have, or had.
IV
And as I walk through the lanes I see,
I see the melodrama of the thoughts and feelings,
and the mask of deceptions and hypocrisy,
which generally say different from what they think.
V
And so, I remain, now the isolated stranger…
for none I know, for none I can care,
I stand here in the dark deep
impenetrable coal driven diamond skies and below me…
I remember for the last time end…
the rivers of blood mingled with tears,
Me here, there still till I stand
flows in the overflowing bounds of the cruel bank.
rhythms with the beats thumping jumping
and my strangling in the impenetrable
for what I done, I did, or I doing so,
is me, me, and me fault.
VI
Lust and hush
silver skins
thirsty saliva
for love.
VII
Dust.
Drowns.
Infinite roads
I alone.
for eternity.
without support.
VII
The third step you have taken
and as you move to the thousand others,
you may cry,
you may try,
you may red,
you may living dead,
you may drown,
you may row,
you may sow,
you may lay low,
you may hide,
you may tide,
you may sing,
you may silence,
you may melody,
you may monotony,
you may ruddy,
you may lost,
you may host,
you may dread,
you may read…..
it is different colors of life
and thousands other emotions
Indescribable.
I am here
so dazzled
in the world and itself
so much
that I blurred
I
I
i
Coffee drinking,
went to walking
then to home'est
and to my melody
seventh symphony
To the work
eight hours done
left and deserted
in the dark path'us
and to my melody
seventh symphony
Then to the tea drinking
relaxing and all doing
the day passes
in the dark room'us
and to my melody
seventh symphony
Consumes me sleep
the night passes day comes
gives time only some
to the unlighted previous day’us
and to my melody
seventh symphony
ii
Time starts
sun starts
with a laugh
a smile
time starts
brush
bath
bus
busying
buzzing
fussing
in the office
or the school
a world so boring
a world which is
something same everyday
coming home
tired
tried
fired
fried
relaxing
opening
a book
words making a world
which is something other
everyday
keeping the book – away
in a relax
in a fix
opening
remote-ing
some bastards in huzzy voice
kicking your drums with that noise
seeing the tv just to pass
that time
then opening yourself into the radio
dos with the kick
of energy
or just peaceful
relaxing
cracking
into a dance
Then asking yourself
live became a shit
work's like a hard hit
on the head
Time ends
good night
playing
working
time ends
iii
Times
changed
lives
banged
dears
departed
death
arrived
life
begin
again
in minds
to live
the time
lost
a death
ago
II
Think twice, that person is wearing a frayed cloak of lies and deception.
His words and he being thrown down in the sea.
He himself is not as you as you see him, perceive him or take him.
Not everyone is like you.
III
i
There is nothing left in me and you to apologize on. We both are lost somewhere in this distant land. Let us find out our way. Let us find our way to the hole through which sunlight can pass through, let our sore eyes and thirsty throat see water and light, which we long from the time we came into the world. Let us make our path so as it can go to the water we so longingly want. Let us not be distracted by thousands bold colors brushed by our own consciousness. Let us raise our head high, look forward and run and run and run and run, without any tire, without any other want. We can run, till we fly and world long for us.
ii
Lost in the valley of time, dear? That old fool time. It always stabs at the back.
Then we remember: We are born to die.
iii
Death may be the last truth, but it is inevitable, because it is point of living.
You may question, if death is my point of living, then why I should live, because life, in the very end, will be taken from my body.
And then we can question the existence of big bang planet and the existence of us. It is the difference of zero and one. It goes in the realms of mathematics, Zero is nothing, and one is something. If you put an apple on a basket, the basket has one apple. I
f you remove the apple, the basket is empty.
If there is nothing in the basket. Then, what is the purpose of the basket without apple? Will people notice it even exist?
Will people think about basket to get an apple? And this, apparently basic answer, applies: We exist for existence.
iv
The Technology ahead may give us the powers of new life. We are made from pieces of non-living particles. If we are entirely made up of non-living particles, then why do we call ourselves living? If all our thoughts are simply a chain of chemical reactions in the neurons, then where is the place for the soul here?
We are non-living objects. We can interact with our environment, and the environment will cause a chain of reactions inside our brain, which will in the end, do not occupies a place of the soul, but quite a complex system of pieces of atom and physics, working in harmony, like clockwork, and making the object's mind to the objects of the universe. We are in this sense, a son of the dust of the magic of universe.
But we are here, and you are here reading this article, because you are here and I am here typing this article.
It may be joke, that when you asked for what is life? I answered, it is life.
IV
i
Burn the skies with the clouds
trees drown me, in a minuscule part of the world
mountains eat me, and no one knows
Burn what is left of me,
and no one notice.
ii
Flower yellow sun,
reflecting yellow in all the lake
like a wild fire roaming around
and I see how similar I am
to that fire, which burns and burns
and just roam around
purpose less.
iii
Cloud that last place
blind my eyes to the iris
so that I cannot see....
there's no place I go,
nowhere to find the end of world.
V
i
See the river
in the moonlit night
she is smiling
she is cheerful
But swim in her depths
this water is cold
so full of sorrow
her laments in the cheers…
ii
See the shell, white and strength,
her each reflection glory of peace,
she is peaceful,
she is strong
But look inside her depths
the creature of agony
frail and weak
the fragile strength
iii
See the sand, hot and blazing,
and on each sand grain you’ish walk,
but even when your feet covered with burns
but even when you fell, tired,
you are unable to find your identity
so lost in melodramas
But uncover its depths,
the sand solidifies,
there is water,
quenching your thirst.
VI
Dark me with your very eyes
brass inside the wavelengths,
splashing upon me to great heights,
death is not what you wrights,
but see the ocean so singing bright,
it is nothing but so much right,
great is the man who sang that song,
for so high and so long,
it is the life sides,
tide comes on to the beach,
and the boat crashes in so many piece,
the crumple of the sounds
splash all around, loud
Finger on your lips,
and I give you a tip,
so is the fear to go,
may you live through the ages to go,
inside the cocoon of nature
VII
i
I may have written many articles, stories, reviews, but this is a special thing. Did you notice the rush of time? I want this lowered as you read each and every word, gasping the new face of meaning in each, as all people do not have same imagination.
Your heart will speak, then your stars will speak well. I am a hefty straight person, whose conversation is not tangled by any thoughts, well a little uncommon, and as it is in deep realms of my character, I cannot remove my straightness. Nether less let us get straight to the point. And after realizing there is no point, and if we gross over the actual views of life, we will come to know that we are here for a theater for views of gods, they are seeing us being played. Let us play the best, and please the god. Let us take in as much view of this good theater with such much closeness, as we are going to do that for only one time.
And in this show, lives sanity and insanity. And like minority, sanity always have to get the big price, but later on, it is sanity and only sanity in mind and soul, which get a greater role and these are who remembered by even a few or more than few after their death.
Why sanity get the big role? Did your heart ever leapt, crushing a cockroach under your feet? Thieving money without permission? Kicking and teasing beggars who are blind. Did that heart ever leapt?
All people have same hearts. It matter how we use it.
Malign tend to malformation. Sanity tends to another good decade.
ii
Sometimes author fails to describe emotions, with words. The human psychological emotions are too complex. But an observant can catch behind-the-back teasing, pranks and promising false promises.
What could happen to a person if his loveliest most, turns out to be an object of deception, An object that throw knifes on your reputation behind your back? And after showing his true colors, that object could not even talk to you.
Imagine, Imagine, that person will be crestfallen and depressed.
But one shouldn’t be understand that life is not fair.
We can make it fair.
VIII
i
The world's filtered with sunlight so warm,
and still, even though bright it is,
it blurs, with thousands of stories, thousands of they,
and it deteriorates, with thousands of me.
As I walk, as it becomes my art
I observe what me shows me,
the pattern of the randomness,
the taste of tastelessness.
Why I cannot see the hidden everything behind those eyes.
ii
And as I walk through the lanes I see,
I see the melodrama of the thoughts and feelings,
and the mask of deceptions and hypocrisy,
which generally say different from what they think.
iii
I delight as several people delight with me,
I scream and shriek in my mind with that happiness,
but like a shadow why they dissolve in the mist,
vanish and smoke, the history they became,
and came what I know is loneliness and dust.
iv
And oh again, those gigantic buildings fall away
spiraling into a hidden eye’s view
And I, I went further and further away
into the world’s askew
IX
i
As I move,
They laugh at