Testimonial of a miserable delight

Losing the wisdom of loss
Gaining the morbid content ness
Where am I?
Lost like an objectivity
In the mass of subjectivity

Let me have my struggle
Of mighty existence
Give me some ache
And petite sorrow
I won’t lament

Communism

The police carried out a raid and closed a factory. The children, who were working there, were all set free. Some said: “We are orphans. To eat we need a livelihood.” The reply was swift and crude: “It is against the law”.
“Then we will have to beg”, they said, “or else we will have no food.” “That, too, is against the law,” the policeman in charge said rudely.
“If we cannot work and cannot beg, then we will die from hunger,’’ replied the crying children. “That you can do,” was the answer. “There is nothing illegal in dying”.
by Khushwant Singh




Communism survives on the tragedy of human life by exaggerating it . This exaggerated piece of tragedy is a good example of it .and once they achieve power they make sure that tragedy remains so that they shall have there significance .
communism have one answer for Poverty - Terror and intellectual bankruptcy.

Surrealism

Search of Realism arise from our sense of bewilderment from the existence which again is the result of struggle of our intangible mind.
Our mind which s the source of argumemt and counterargument, will never let us decide on truth .

Theologians want a realism , where they shall rule under the guidance of divinity .scientist wants realism where they shall dominate .

hence so called realism becomes the victim of our own slavery of ideology .

How can we find reality without achieving the the freedom of our mind from these ideologies ?

Amir Khan's Torch

Amir Khans Logic of Seeing Olympic games as different from Chinese Totalitarian regime is his foolishness . events like Olympic games are tools and Tools in the hands of Regimes becomes extensions of that regimes and its ideology .

These games are used by Chinese communists to proves the success of their Ideology .

No nation is perfect , but the nation and its Policies are different from the behavior of its People .
Gujrat Riots or any incident of human riots violation-by certain section is different from the policies of Indian State . Nation or governments are judged by its reaction and policies on these incidents and not by the behavior of certain smaller section .

Lost Buddha

Isn’t, not having any desire is also a desire?
Isn’t Desire makes us what we are, by associating individuality with emotions.
Isn’t Desire a reason for our duties and responsibilities and hence the basis of our civilization.


Who says that violence is the right of only evil?
This is how evil transcends
This is how evil defeats goodness by making struggle violent and making violence part of your guilt.

Stand up For the Karma
Pick up that pebble on the lost Path.
Make it your struggle. Make it your desire.

Headache

Humanity has no matter . it is a mind governed by its consciousness .
But what about people with defunct consciousness’ or consciousness over taken by slavery of any ideology ?

Why do we need someone else to stimulate our emotions to Guide our Mind to trace our own consciousness ?

Whether its religion with the brand name of divinity or Communism with the authority of foolish morality , we have always been lured in darkness.

Human history is full of these debauchery of arrogant , cruel ideologies .
whether its medieval egotistical monotheistic religions or modern slavery of Communism is USSR and China.

Is this a part of evolution of universal consciousness where struggle between ideologies to out smart each other and own the brand of goodness ?
and we Humans ? what about us ? how long will we suffer ?
How long will we be the pawns in this evolution ?

Individuals represent certain ideologies in there life span , same ancient ideologies which have taken birth and died million times , yet there is no final conquest .

Are we result of our own suffering or is this suffering result of our own "self"
Self always tries to transcend beyond its own definition , hinting towards a universal self , which unfortunately is a place of eternal struggle between these narrow definition , in quest of something beyond definition , beyond grammatical language .

Some day “I” will reach there .

I am slave of  silly optimism

Chinese Civilization and its Leaders

The problem is with the Chinese psyche .. they worship Power and Money and thats why communist have been able to lure their souls with materliasm and charm of iron fist . even their cultural revolution is the reflection of their willingness to accept the matter and not mind ..
They reflected the glimpse of vanity of individual souls in Confucius and Tiananmen square but all in vain .. its the long term ideology accepted by social and cultural psyche which shapes the generation and their priorities .

Their willingness to be accpeted and respected by the western world ( Power and Money ) has made them vulnerable to exploitation and Communism has done that beautifully ..
Where else can you see Communism behaving like a 19th Century Capitalist and offering its Poor People as cheap Labour to the factories for the consumption of western world without any basic right, without any social scrutiny .
Sometime Fox also change colors .

Religion and Spiritualism

There is and will be a contradictory difference between religion and Spiritualism

Religion Starts with "I believe ".
Spiritualism starts with "I have a question" (I don't believe ).

Religion is accepting.
spiritualism is rejecting and starting of a search which is beyond the limits of accpetence.

Religion is masking Truth with Perception .
Spiritualism is unwrapping of perception from eternal Truth.

Religion will always need a clergy to force and implement the belief.
Spiritualism is a Solitary Journey , Guru is Just a guide.

Spiritualism leads to Wisdom .
Religion Leads to Politics .

Religion Signifies Law of Entropy
Spiritualism defies Law of Entropy

Beyond Idealism

Idealism is cowardice
Faith is inhuman
Struggle Fight, conquer.
Buddha is transitory
like an inert purpose on the boulevard
rinse the soil with blood of divinity

Before time consumes you

Against Monotheism

Religion is also an ideology .. so Blaming "other" is an escapist route to run away from the responsibility and truth .

A religion or ideology has to be based on Larger Philosophy because the Philosophy will wrap Myth around the underlying basic tenants of philosophy and present it as religion. and if these basic tenants are wrong the religion will fuel hatred .
you have to understand that every religion or every idea shall be judged with Human ethics which is lacking in Islamic world . criticism is not allowed. criticism acts as an balancing tool to weed out wrong things and evolve new .

The basic idea of These Monotheistic religions is that they define "good " within the narrow bracket of religion so you are right just by following Islam or Christianity and everyone else is wrong and will be punished by sending them to hell . So Baba Amte and Mahatma Gandhi will go to hell and will be punished just because they are not Muslim or Christian . This ethical fallacy of these Monotheistic ideology will give birth to arrogant radicals .

China and India

Capital needs labour to Survive.
Government uses Labour to smother character.
Intellect needs labour for autopsy .
Bourgeois needs labour for selfish experiment.
Pitiable, wretched , Labour .
When will enlightenment flourish and become liberated from clutches of arrogant intellect and uncaring spiritualism.

May be never .. Life itself becomes the reason for its own pathetic cowardice.

in the world where Faith is contrary to self introspection , labour itself wants to become either capital or government or intellect or maybe bourgeois .. who cares for self...

Man

the only one and within!
.. Asked his chariot ..
what do you want?..
Man enslaved by the sloth within
choose indolence ..
Man , that chariot ..Scared of loosing his mirage
Desired blindness of siesta
Only one and within
.. Smiled
and gave him few Prophets ..
A Jesus. A Mohammad .. a silly arrogant Buddha
And million qualms carved from stones

and Man suffered in brutality of his own
Ignorance ..

Vivek Ananda

Vivekananda's essay East and the West


The Vedas were the first to find and proclaim the way to Moksha, and from that one source, the Vedas, was taken whatever any great Teacher, say, Buddha or Christ, afterwards taught. Now, they were Sannyasins, and therefore they "had no enemy and were friendly and compassionate towards all". That was well and good for them. But why this attempt to compel the whole world to follow the same path to Moksha? "Can beauty be manufactured by rubbing and scrubbing? Can anybody's love be won by threats or force?" What does Buddha or Christ prescribe for the man who neither wants Moksha nor is fit to receive it? — Nothing! Either you must have Moksha or you are doomed to destruction — these are the only two ways held forth by them, and there is no middle course. You are tied hand and foot in the matter of trying for anything other than Moksha. There is no way shown how you may enjoy the world a little for a time; not only all openings to that are hermetically sealed to you, but, in addition, there are obstructions put at every step. It is only the Vedic religion which considers ways and means and lays down rules for the fourfold attainment of man, comprising Dharma, Artha, Kama, and Moksha. Buddha ruined us, and so did Christ ruin Greece and Rome! Then, in due course of time, fortunately, the Europeans became Protestants, shook off the teachings of Christ as represented by Papal authority, and heaved a sigh of relief. In India, Kumârila again brought into currency the Karma-Mârga, the way of Karma only, and Shankara and Râmânuja firmly re-established the Eternal Vedic religion, harmonising and balancing in due proportions Dharma, Artha, Kama, and Moksha. Thus the nation was brought to the way of regaining its lost life; but India has three hundred million souls to wake, and hence the delay. To revive three hundred millions — can it be done in a day?

Advaita Vedanta -I am Confused

Physics tells us that the observer determines the observations. The observer determines the observations because the observer is hallucinating, fiction. So what Physics is trying to tell us that life is our mirage.

Question -
So why should the mind, and its life, change its ways from sleep-dreams to when it hallucinates that it wakes up every morning, to study the likes of physics?

As Advaita Says that thoughts had universe-vanishing gaps between them. These universe-vanishing gaps made it universally impossible for thoughts to be connected to each other.Thoughts were not only disconnected but they were totally unpredictable. As Science would call this unpredictability their Uncertainty Principle.

Question -
Is mind just a collection of thoughts just like a book is a collection of words. And thus sleep-dreams and life are made up of the same thoughts, the mind

Question -
Is life and its physics, and universe, does not need a Big Bang to start? or end? the story of life , because it can start and end just as EFFORTLESSLY and quickly and totally as can any sleep-dream start and end

This chimera, or invented story, fantasy, we call the mind/life which advaita called Maya. And this Maya makes everything that appears certain, “real,” into karma

Question -

So there is no doer, that can agree or disagree. And this simple fact – that there is no doer, that there is no other -- makes the best joke, called mind, really-really amusing.

Question -
“there is no other” called God ?Is god just the creation of our Mind ,just another character for our fantasy of life?

New Year

I wrote this Last year and posting it again . looks like Time repeats it self .

Like Every thing else in this Universe , Time is also a victim of our rainbow perception. There are two ways of seeing the mighty Time

1) Time is part of the fundamental structure of the universe, a dimension in which events occur in sequence .

2) Time is part of the fundamental structure of Human intellect within which we sequence events, sequence the duration of events and the intervals between them, and compare the motions of objects.

We can measure time and classify it within our selfish emotions of happiness, ecstasy , sad, melancholy , and many others or time measures us within its cycle of Tretayug, satyug and Kalyug as described in Hindu philosophy and make us as just a helpless victim of time .

So whether this so called New year is real and exist and is a measures of our existence or just an illusion created by human intellect , we cant deny its existence.

So let’s wish ourselves, rest all of you and the also the authoritative time

Assassinated

Feathers fall
Yet the bird shall soar
high, beyond the dreams
riding on the soul
of that fair feather

Rants of Mumbai

December arrived by the creaky door .
I couldn’t sense the nippy steps of winter.
Mumbai is unadorned with the complexity of human emotions,
Every thing is taken for granted here ,
Even Tragedy is for barter .
This dream is dry , like a canvas painted with grey .
Like a devotion without his idol
This metropolis is too simple , too candid ,
too level-headed , too cruel .
She exist like a whore, without lies, without heartbreaks,
No fallen leaves to be trampled
No breeze with nippy memories

No leftover petals in unfinished pages of dreams

"Neti Neti"

Let there be "NOTHING"
but can there be "NOTHING" without "EVERYTHING"?
or may be without "NOTHING" itself ?
or is there "NOTHING" already there
Somewhere
because of "EVERYTHING"

To Adiguru

Lost

I lost few apologies somewhere
To a name
Like a blameworthy virtue
Unacquainted
Those fallen pearls of moments
Scattered in my shrine heart
Beggar without bowl
Monk without repentance
Existence without delusion
Remind me
Before they turn into illusion

Cinema Paradiso

Edward Copeland has posted the results of his poll, along with some great pictures and lots of comments, I dont know if I can agree with this list or not as I have seen only few of these and are part of my collection .perceptions differ .

http://eddieonfilm.blogspot.com/2005/12/foreign-art.html

Confusion

razor blade of ambiguity,
beautiful nightmare perfectly rendered with illusions,
ancient, reckless dictatorship of time,
opium of optimism,
sappy and manipulative coincidences,
False Fantasy of procreation called love,
Exquisite' sham of self pity,
and mastery of bourgeois deity.

Confusion

This sleepy narrow dungeon
Gloomy, unspoken, Insane
I have lost the path to my heart
My fingers chatter these eternal ramparts
Struggling livid bricks guards

From a generous split
Creeping roots , mocking solitude
From the orifice of dilapidated moments
There is a glimpse of same sun
It walks with morning
It strolls with Afternoon and
sleeps with evenings

Who wants freedom..??
Me or my desire?
Who wants desire ?
Me or my freedom ?

Worth

Few Precious things are Fragile.. They cant stand the test of Human faith.
But if they cant resist the uncertanities of this existence and keep the faith intact ..then they  cant be Worth .

I was sick of being Judged and Pointed at my imperfections every Day .
So one fine day I tried to judge the judge .
and IT was hollow .

Roads to Hope

Revelation is betraying my heart,
With its millions boulevards to sunset
Somewhere afar the perspective
Sun is melting the ache with his bright smirk .

Remember,
These millions roads to horizon,
They don’t return
And that inane sun
Like a fidgety pitiless destiny
Will fall soon too.

So think, think once more
Before you cuddle hope.

Million Journeys

I strolled down that sentence
Stumbling on the pause
Slipping in the commas
Bewildered with the unsaid Meaning
Those caged words , struggling for the choice

May be I am enchained with my narrow perception
Or is it yours icy selfishness

Web

So much divinity.

Which bit is mine?

Has my own god has lost faith?

Or have I lost my revelation to my selfishness.

Reality and Hope

In the city of small shadows
I walk within my self
Slave of my rigid perception
My dreams are like an orphan beggar
My Existence is lost without definition
They sold me few expensive lies
For all the life I have
So my moments are indifferent
To everything except this sham

But old angels
With wrinkled knowledge
Whispered to my sad heart
butterfly will lure me
Away, to the bliss orchard.
So I am waiting for the yellow spring

Conversation with a Woman

Her words has patterns, purpose and colors. Somewhere they were searching herself in that conversation and I could see that bewildered quest in her restless eyes .there are flickers of inquisitive selfishness, but hey beware you are not allowed to invoked your curiosity .

Whether the topic has any relevance to you or not ,is not her problem. After all this is a woman’s world, but my dear make sure you make her feel important and interesting . Look into her eyes and swim in her soul , let her feel every stroke of your admiration.even if her words are betraying the context and the purpose of conversation.

Never be honest, they love honest lies . truth is a virtue which will steal her selfishness so remember mendacity is an attire to enhance her vanity . You can never find a great woman Philosopher in the pages of human evolution.

Listen to her complains. Yes she has abundance of those. They are the most torturous experience but hey man listen , she doesn’t want you to solve them because in reality , there is no problem .

How much we have to spend for this sexual evolution??

PLAY

In this Play,
Every character proclaims to be the protagonist
Every Part proclaims applause
Every Tear proclaim triumph
Lechers of slavery
Sway on the strings of scarlet Master
That Eternal Torturous Life
Who, with its strings of Emotions,
With its drama of lust,
Giggles

Spartacus

   Pink stranger, come close
  More closer, let me radiate my heart
  As it is an organ with inferno
  Let me have a glimpse of your soul.
  Oh no you are just another slave
  Lost, drifting near my spirit
  You are not the Spartacus
  Was it my optimism which cheated me?
  Yet again
  Go, go away and toil in the fields of destiny
   And reap the shackles
  So I collapsed in my dreamy dungeon.
  Spartacus with never come?

Prayer

Afar the enchantment
Where moon molests the naive stars
Vanity conceives evil and giggle
Monsters are born with innocence
Death dies with birth
Birth dishonored with death
Freedom lusts for wounds of chain
And every sun is a mortal hero

Raven dwells in traits
Dreams have seduced conscience
Manuscript have lured indulgence
Angel steals the white drape of truth
And Swastika preach insanity

Black wine drips through the curves
And nectar remains with immortals
Destiny steals the ashes of phoenix
Lustful fetuses roam the time
Devour me O naked Father
Devour me

Wall (Mind)

Time is liaison between the different changes.

I don’t like anger , it leaves me ugly and guilty and it also gives me excruciating Headache.

It’s the invariable struggle of this existence to Paint this wall with Pristine white but like an stubborn malevolence chameleon it has been altering colors, from culpable grey to immoral black , from lusty red to rapturous yellow , from sly Pink to idealistic purple , but not that elusive Pristine white.

I want it unadorned, without any designs , without any piece of art because with art comes lecherous yearning for recognition and attention .

In its vast realm of egotism it has infinite lusty spiders with million legs, making cobwebs of desires in those inaccessible corners where they have entrapped and devoured my innocence.

This wall has been beguiling me to enchain my will to tame my aspiration , with its sarcastic laugh it has been ridiculing me, in all my effort to seek harmony .

They say Bodhisattva painted it White, Pristine tranquil white.

Its is 4.00 AM in the Morning, so I slept.

Time doesn’t change anything .

Night

On the dilapidated dream sits the melancholy pessimism
With its eternal resort to conquer truth
Insatiable soul waiting for a defeated dawn
And its tragic myth of life.

O voyeur silence of night, dont cry so loud
Wishpering Moon has seduced the loneliness of existence
memories howling like the western breeze
Some lost moments passing by

So the mighty grey ponders over the juvenile Crimson
Why was he when he wasn't?
How can I be, when I couldn't?
so its Just the eternal Night and its slave Dawn .

Keshi's Question

Keshi have asked a very interesting question and I thought about it .
So here is my answer.

If you were the opposite sex just for one day, what would you do in that 24hrs?

• I can be proud of being a bitch.
• I will always have someone to blame.
• I can see few colors, which as a male I never thought existed. Mauve, lilac, Lavender.
• I can cry .
• And not feel embarrassed about it.
• I can be dumb and interesting at the same time.
• I can enjoy sex without doing anything.
• I can sit and Pee.
• I can emotionally blackmail men to listen my never ending blabbering.
• I will understand what “shopping and chocolate “ can do to our existence .
• I can complain without feeling guilty.
• I can understand what these K serials are all about.
• I can defeat and enslave men without fighting.
  

Shock

It was a Sunday evening stroll when I saw him on the pavement of four bungalows, near my house. He was sitting in front of Manish nagar market
Poor, Old and fragile, with just and loin cloth to cover his wrinkled existence.
But he was a human, a man possessed by love. Love for another man. He was hugging him, kissing him, smooching him.

Yes I know homosexuality is normal. Yes I Know that in modern society its is accepted. But I am still so fucking confused.

Is the carnal bribe of this being so overwhelming that we cant escape the immorality??
Or morality is just a weapon to tame the power of humanity? Is morality just an anomaly of human insecurity, made to defeat individual and let the mob triumph??

Dreams Voyage

From smoke to haze
From haze to silhouette
From Incongruous to consistent
From delusion to reverie
From lies to faith
From opinion to existence
From existence to emotion
From emotion to passion
From Passion to tears
From tears to frozen nostalgia
Thats how she finished her journey
On these primeval boulevards .

Pujo

Pujo , thats how they use to Pronounce it .
That vigor , that ecstasy in kolkata’s breeze .
Those sugary smiles on Bengali faces .
Those new attires on reincarnated souls.
Seductive baudi’s in their Dhakai sarees
Large , alluring vermillion dots of vanity .
Juvenile grins on adult Hearts .
Ancient fragrance in modern breeze.
Medieval devotion with communist inspiration

Wish I can go back to Kolkata.

My Dream

Like the disobedient spring, tucked on scarlet Petal.
Perched between tangible illusion and fake certainty.

Like the obstinate summer, floating on a restless heart
Bewildered between an ecstatic snuffle and a gloomy grin

Like the impassive winter, drowned in a dew drop
Flourishing between disastrous truth and amusing lies

Like the traitorous monsoon, heavy with sincere remorse
Combating childish desire and the lazy surrender

That’s my dream .

Lets smile again

Moments wept the tears of betrayal
Emotions descended in the valley of gloom
Dreams swept away by the twister of destiny
Sky was petite and pale like a lost faith

But then fatality struck
And consumed the timid tragedy
Yes nothing is eternal
Now the heaven is azure again
Dazzling like her mesmerizing smile

So I am smiling again ..although its a little shy smile .
and yes you idiot ,I am going to try alcohol tonight .
:))))))

How Long

It feels shit
Hanging on mortal Optimism
Patience humiliating almighty will
The transparent ache
Like thousand venomous serpents
Wrapped around this existence
And masculine aloofness betraying
The human soul.

How Long????

No I will not Burn out
I will hang on ( No Fullstops )

Its Never Goodbye

It’s never farewell
You will stay forever where no one dwells
Beyond the juvenile pragmatism
Where Time have lost its Purpose
Where moments are imprinted on cold memories
Like fatality embossed on this existence
Where a grey cloud has lost it path
Where two dimples and a smile
Hum eternal melodies with heartbeat


It’s never goodbye

Home

My Home
Beyond the cold sorrow
Near eternal Dance of Ganges
In the warm quilt of winters
And calm white bed sheets of summers
In the love laced anger of my Father
In the grey curls of my sweet Mother
where sun rays are milder