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

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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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.

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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 ?

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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 .

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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.

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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

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So much divinity.

Which bit is mine?

Has my own god has lost faith?

Or have I lost my revelation to my selfishness.

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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

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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??

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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

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   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?

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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

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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 .

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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 .

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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.
  

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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??

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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 .

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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.

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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 .

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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 .
:))))))

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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 )

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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

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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
and Nights are brighter
where deity reside in wrinkled smiles
Home sweet Home

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Ok this book is awesome.
It is really interesting to know why certain traits are considered attractive and how evolution shaped our idea of beauty.

And the most interesting part of this book is the Idea that Its Our Evolutionary Psychology which shapes the basic difference between men and women.

Women tend to choose financial success and stability over looks in a mate
Men tend to choose beauty over all else.
Men generally want to be practical, shrewd, assertive, dominating, competitive, critical, and self-controlled.
Women usually want to be loving, affectionate, impulsive, sympathetic, and
Generous.
One in three men said they had fantasized about having sex with more than a thousand women in their lives.
Women overwhelmingly fantasize about having sex with a familiar partner.
People unconsciously score each other during their social interactions, rating relationship values for the future.

Exercise – Please rate all the men and women that you have come across for your future relationship.
Kindly mention following points
Your idea of a perfect partner
What are you searching in relationship?
1. Emotional Need
2. Financial need
3. How much social acceptance plays a role in your Decision
4. Your Social status (Middle class. Upper Middle Class. Upper Class)
Who is the most familiar person that you fantasize about.

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Why the Fuck you ask questions??
When you already have all the answers.

I am not a fucking Pawn to authenticate your existence .

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Essence of myriad Dreams
In His quest of Vanity
Went to a valley of Passion
There was no splendor
But Just an Eve
With her carnal serpent
And wrath of irrational divinity

So he lived his curse

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“IT” shaped “HE “
And to tame Him
To limit Him to “I”
“IT” fashioned “HER”

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Dreams have undulating graceful pattern
Like musical node of my existence
Blurred and indistinct illusions
Beyond my insecurity of future
and burden of Past.
Liberty from the slavery of butcher epoch

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She is a Pretty Kid, like a crispy sandwich with Just 19 mysterious springs which have caressed her innocence. We share the same stairway at the same time, wishing each other with different smiles.
Her smile is little timid and crimson, mine little dry and heavy, laden with a fake courtesy.
Well, I was told that those smiles at the stairway were coincidences only from my side .
Hmmmmmm.

O these drops of illusions
Falling from the haze of black desire
There is a temptation from Phoenix
Come, indulge in vanity

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He walked like a sinner
Limping
Wound of his gangrene guilt

His narrow eyes avoiding the
Bitter truth
His lost gaze, searching neverland

His jaw clenched with
Impatience .
He lived with penguins and polar bears
In icy cold world

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It’s a soggy world
Damp Like her guilty Eyes
Betrayed by her own maverick heart
Memories seeping in like evil droplets
Corroding my will

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May be my own intellect is playing games with me, may be I cant understand because I dont wana understand , may be I am slave of my own expectation and god is my expectation .I made god as unattainable and I love him that way.

If he is in everything then is he in ignorence too??

May be he is not anything or in everything .
May be he is beyond everything.
Even beyond my pain and my prayers.

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I am a leaf of the gypsy spring
Unattainable, restless at the mercy of egotistic ambition
Sometime silent summer visits me
Like an ignorant slippery youth
I live on foolish hope of her silent grave
Where I will perish with the fragrance of her memories

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On the sea of Innocence Lust is like a perfect storm
Don’t take that boat whose providence is condemned
Your desires will slay the saint
Stop, to cherish the divinity which we created,
And all moment of innocence between us,
Don’t follow the devil
One that will never be again

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This book questions the ways in which we understand what it means to be human, both scientifically and culturally. Using Knowledge of evolutionary biology and neuroscience, he portrays a very deeply pessimistic view of human beings. This book views humans as beasts or zombies.

The author act as a judge and demolishes all the good things which we have built to prove our existence. This book reminds me of you and your Opinion about me .

We as an internal being who would like nothing more than to manage the conflict of interactions with people and our own emotions ,are entangled in this web called life . This interaction of our life is always the victim of struggle between my moral ethical being and my beastly instincts . I can not be spared of the cruel sight of the moral dissecting table

But you as an outsider , as a judge ,as a spectator, surveying my behavior , dissecting my life shall remember Mary Magdalene and Jesus .

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O White willow tree of Jerusalem
Don’t Proclaim Halleluiah
Holy Ghost is imprisoned in your Past
And Prophet has left your streets

O White willow tree of Jerusalem
Don’t moan for redemption
You are the serf of your naïve blindness
The son has been crucified on your cynicism

O White willow tree of Jerusalem
If truth knew the street of eyes
You would have been the yellow spring

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Now that the Prophet have crossed the dark valley
He realized that Love is ethereal as Hope
Like ashen Clouds, Lost in eternity of blue
Found in insincere Perception

Now that the Prophet has the glimpse of sea
He realized that Love is fragile like existence
Like a Gypsy wave fated to extinct on the grey shore
reborn for Perpetuity of Existence

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LOVE
Plato :Only the idea of something is perfect.
The reality is just a shadow of that perfection.

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Whats makes the woman authority in Pain?
Why woman always claims to be on the fairer side?
Why woman always claims to be victim?
In this self obsessed existence,marketing thyself is a feminish Skill

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On the silent sea of eon
Waves of night whispers to cold moon
Vanity visits my dreams
On the chariot of twinkling stars

Wanderer of your Love
Lost in stillness of Night
It’s the flame of your vanity
Which reveals the boulevard

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Yellow rain
Drops of memories splashing on my heart
Washing away Reminiscence of warmth
Damp loneliness embrace like serpent
Few disobedient drops
Sneaking in my citadel

My heart Gaze beyond the drenched streets
Beneath the shade of the lonely drenched nostalgia
Where you have taken shelter
With few fallen gloomy leaves

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Religions based on One Mans Proclamations of divinity always suffer from insecurity. They lack the maturity to undergo the critical scrutiny of apprehensive nature of Man.
They suffer from self obsessed gods
If Mr. Pope thinks Christianity have eternal right to buy the free spirit to convert them to sheep then let him know that his shepherd is false.
Wish His God bless Pope with little commonsense.

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The forlorn Voyager of slippery epoch
Wrinkled passions wrapped around his blue soul
Dilapidated dreams of his ravaged heart
Scattered in gloomy nights

Cruel destiny that engulfs all ambitions
Waiting for me to embark
For parting the eternal thoughts
So that they pester other reality

Let me pack my Dead Sea shells,
Frostiness of my spirit,
And gratitude for that pain
Which reside with my being

Let his graves not be bare
Let his arrogance not be forlorn
Let his debt be paid
Let he thrives in my sorrow

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Shit!In this Brahmanical society the so called upper castes always want the so called Low caste to remain in abject poverty.After all,who would do the human scavenging & other dirty work of brahmins,if the OBCs,SCs& STs make use of quota & become educated???
Dear Warning
Society is what you make of it .. You shall not justify any sin by our medieval ignorant past. every human shall have equal opportunity if not equality irrespective of his caste , creed and religion . I strongly feel that affirmative action or reservation is justified for SCs and STs but I would like to question this concept of OBCs . they have been intentionally been bought up because of their large numbers in Indian Democracy to get vote .
A pandey right!so you talk like all your dastardly brahmin whore slaves.
I can understand you better .
Look at the statistics(of course,brahmins have always manipulated History to suit their own needs)-OBCs,SCs,STs make up more than 50% of the total population.So,why shoudnt there be a fixed % of seats for the depressed class-they are more in number,they deserve it.Its the so called upper caste which is a minority.
People are the asset of society and the society develops and flourishes by internal competition among its individual . with our will to outsmart other individual and quest for rewards People have contributed to develop our modern society . look at the human history and you will realize that from Rome to Modern USA its the merit of few individual who have made us what we are . if the demography is a criteria to reward individual then you better look at Former USSR and China and May be yourself .
I will copy paste the exact stats from a reliable source-you can go & check it.
No need to show stats ,Ignorance always outnumber the enlightened
Keeping the so called low castes under subjugation-right???
No right of equal opportunity , and yes I firmly believe SCs and STs shall get reservation.
Who is a pimp?Arjun singh?Mandal Commission?
Anyone who sells soul of my mother land for his own selfish momentary personal benefit
WARNING-i can sue you and take you to court by booking you under the Atrocities to SC,ST,OBC prevention Act,1989 if you dont delete this cowardly post.It will be used as evidence against you.

Go ahead .

You are a coward with a mob mentality-you like to show your superiority by jumping onto an issue which is under controversy.
Read your comment and see who is coward with a Mob mentality . its you who is anonymous . I have given my email and name .

Do you have a standing of your own in society to call a minister a Pig?Who are you?a VIP?
Yes as an Individual who chooses these Minister I have all the right . and My dear if you have read George Orwell’s Animal Farm you will understand what is a PIG
You wont even have the courage to put up my comment on this blog!And if you want to have a talk with me personally,i am ready.I dont need to hide like you and remain Anonymous-Just give me a sign & i will come out to deal with wimps like you.
Dear anonymous lets talk here I am ready for it .

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Woman is accumulation of all the things that I want and all the things that I don’t want,

The optimistic view of Mother hood for a woman is known to all of us . well the pessimistic is quite interesting , it says that motherhood is a way to achieve a emotional slave for a woman , the child become purpose for her and the extension of her existence and in a way that child looses some of his own individuality . so you cant deny that we all men are in someway extension of our mother and the not the perfect man which we are capable of .
The beast in man can accomplish more then the child .

Hmm
Woman

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Pimp of my Motherland
Rein of his Idiocy
His soul less khaki dogs
Ravaging the melody of her soul
Decadence, cowardice
Molesting her generous vanity

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This man is stripped of his vanity,
Darkness of his eyes betraying the masculinity of his existence.
His Tense gaze and determination in his apprehension
His baldness mocking the world with sarcasm.
Youth of his face is like a slippery rebel revolting against the cruelty of time.

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I have been judged and labeled as the person who is fit to be hated without any reason.
People have stopped conversing with me without any fault of mine.
My views have been seen as the rambling of an arrogant man because I question.
People have advised my friends and loved once to get rid of me.

And none of them have ever met me.

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I am slave of my emotions , they molest me and my individuality . I am just a pawn in the chessboard of Life. I am a Poor prophecy of cruel destiny .

In these rare moments when I see glimpse of shining spark between the chink of that dilapidated pane of my intellect, I weep at my own slavery.

I am learning to be an obedient slave.

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Today its exactly 12 years when I have left the warmth of my house.
Wandering like a gypsy chasing that beautiful dream which seduces my very travel till now.
This snap was taken when I landed in Bangalore station for my collage ID card . Time has traveled, yet past visit sometime.

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Raiders of selfish passion
Vulnerable existence
Seduce and lay mighty to dust
Tomb of their emotional dictatorship
They steal your seeds
To cultivate slave of motherhoods
Shackles of their egocentric Love
They howl
And call it Love

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This is a reply for a bloggers view is her own words .

Prisoners of
Ignorant, selfish Passion,
Escapist of existence
And the beast within,
Women grow thorns
Of self obsessed Universe
Till numb black clouds
Rain red sadness
Huh silly utopia

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My Ego is not pseudo. this whole question of ego for a man is very complex .

Firstly I don’t believe there is any answer in this world , there can only be opinions so let me try various opinions as an options for your question of Male ego.

1) - ego is the psychological trace of our beastly evolution. after all we all men compete for genes and ego acts as a weapon of aggressiveness’ and act as our competitive edge in this whole game of Procreation (a honest but a sick Opinion) .

2)- ego is not what we think we are , but what this world around us makes us to think what we shall be . (So in a way you influence him to make him egoistic)

3) - there is very thin line between ego and self respect and with this world which is not fare and just and which is laced with too much of Adrenaline , we sometime cross the line.

4)-Women love adrenaline (which means ego) , now don’t be an feminist and deny that .

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Melting Hope
Heavy Existence
Betrayed Optimism
Shivering light
Flickering Rays
Weary deity
Merry tragedy
Thirsty death
Collapsing flame
Wilted wings
Stripped soul
End of a book .

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Shall I amuse my existence at the cost of misery of this humanity Or shall this humanity amuses itself at the expense of my existence.

I thought of Me, as something that remains constant in the midst of all the Bloody Turmoil , Everything that I thought of me , however, was of a fragile moment.

In our gloomy and lonely existence, out of cold words directed at us, assumptions of others about us grow up and they gaze upon us,morose and gray.

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The Last parting Kiss of Maa
Still vibrates in my soul! It chimes like a Tear in my heart
Her solemn tears will shake my giggles till eternity
Her trembling pain which shakes the stillness of night
Her deep tender eyes hoots its sorrow to midnight moon

Her departing lad chasing the slimy dreams
Away from her warm embrace
She finds me in all the door knocks
She finds me in all the love she cooks

Away from aspirations strong jaws which has strangled me
I will redeem all my dreams in her smiles
Someday I will.

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