Disturbed

After effect of failed love, a disturbed mind.
thoughts and feelings I suddenly discovered last night...

I can sense this distance
Growing slowly between us,
As the smoke passes my hair
Escaping bound of your lips…

The smell of your body is fainter,
So I take the other way around
Caressing a crying heart of my own;
It’s the time for me to let you go.

I wander in an empty space
Placed for me within a black sea
Of slutty dancers and scary clowns;
Shells crack under my boot, as I try to runaway.

The head is spinning,
Round and round so fast…
The body is crashing,
I puff and puff harder…

Don’t feel, just touch;
Put me on fire,
Cheers to our dead love,
And drink the warmth…
We’ll daze the winter, tonight.

Crooked mind inside a beating heart

Your tears have met the outfall
And one more drop for humanity;
The dull, damp lines of poetry - mocking sanity,
Deep inside dwells the murder conspiracy:
As your stoned hands grab my ribs
I search a safer room for my grimy dreams.
Darker nightmares n' psycho lady's wish,
A faint throb comes from the weary heart
Like after you've taken the happy pills,
When the sky seems to be falling on you..
And the world around you spins round n' round
With thousand buildings and countless stories
Of life, of people damned with cruelty and pain,
And you still remain thirsty for some bloodlike rain.

Rain fixed my Life

I woke up with a sense of cold; I could feel the gloomy and numb day ahead and decided to stay at home. No amount of hot noodles and coffee could make sure that I feel alive. I knew what was about to come and so it happened.
It rained.
Rain makes me sad. It reminds me of my futile love, painful treacherous people I trusted and my childhood’s rainy days; and it makes me a past-analyzing retarded person.
When it starts raining, I feel a sudden joy; and then, that feeling shows itself to me. The feeling of being alone in a crowd, the feeling of not being wanted, the feeling of being deprived of love cripples up my shoulder.
But still I love to feel the rain, let it drench me and tell me the stories of faraway lands. Then again, it also makes me feel sexually deprived. I mean seriously, isn’t it wonderful to make love on a rainy day? Well, err… that doesn’t mean I’m a frustrated virgin (one of my friend keeps telling me that)! I still believe everything has its right time and purpose. But, rain makes me feel so… :/
Life is messed up right now. Nothing is in the right place. Getting hurt by people again and again. Lost my phone as it went down the toilet and slept in the shithole.
Yet, right now I feel solace.
You know why?
Rain fixed my life.
Rain told me it was okay to be sad and alone again.
And I’m here again, back to my old days.
Example? I am blogging -__-

I’m part of this supposed rain,
I can’t love the bright sun up there,
It would just embrace me cruelly
And evaporate me to the sky again…

Hide the rum, fake a smile.

The more I look into this, the more it seems fake. Unreal.
Yes, I am talking about something you know.
Guess what it is? At least try? With your big head with a lil gray matter?
Well, let’s just spare you. It’s the world around us. Especially the world I am in.


Here it’s fascinating. Loud music, flashy lights, colors, amazing lonesome blues, smiles, tears, enthralling words, exciting guitar riffs, smokes, sex, life.
But sometimes a weird alcoholic solitude dissolves this dramatic life into nothingness.
You rummage through everything you have and realize you have nothing. Or may be you have something, but it doesn’t matter at the end.
Someone loves you? But you find it so unreal.
Your demand curve rises upwards, yet there’s no supply. (Here I talk like a prototype Economics student :| )
You sing to them “Take my photo off the wall if it just won’t sing for you”.
It’s like you are fooling yourself. But the truth is, everyone is in the trap, everyone is doing so. Nothing harms you. Yet your hear breaks to pieces, and you try to find the reason why.
Still, the rusty city calls you by name and you can’t avoid it.
Hope against thoughts, dreams against reality.
And someday… the frozen dead winter leaves gives you peace when it doesn’t rain for you anymore.

I cried because my Christmas was going to be ruined. But I somehow made it work for me with courage, some fun companions, chocolate pastry and Johnny Depp.
But I’m still thirsty for rum. I can help but curse that bar owner who didn’t let me in because his ping pong ball sized brain told him that I am not old enough to consume alcohol.
I’m legally adult you fuckface <_<
…
“But why is the rum gone?”
:/


P.S.- The title is worthless!

Blue bed, red shoes and my bokehs

Where words are hidden in puzzle of silence and pain,
and a shadow longs for existence,
I save some wet touches and a lil serenade
for my heart or the lost bodies of nameless solitude...
Here lingers no clean lenses,
dusty pictures of skeleton eyes.
Somehow. So many colors merged into black n' white.

Bokeh

A pain with no reason,
A metamorphosis of hidden love,
Undying feelings...
A blue bed of acidic dreams,
No one speaks a word,
Momentary smile, broken decades ago...

Buried deep
some silent souls,
whispers unveiled
as I walk down the passage
among thousands of dead...

And sometimes I wish the wheels stop spinning and dragging my life somewhere I don't want to go...

With my old red shoes and acoustic time, I would rather stay alone.

Unsequenced Beads

Well, I know, there is no such word like "unsequenced", still, err....it sounded good :/

As winter suddenly sneaks in:


Me: The cold November rain kills the autumn and steps on the frozen grass.
A hollow song is playing on, somewhere.
Feels like I'm behind the stage, dying, yet the sounds of claps go on...the show evolves. The world is somehow inside out....but I am too blind to see the truth!
Wanna go under the blanket and sleep forever in peace, with mystic magical dreams!


Kabir: And when your dreams reach a crescendo of your sensuality..... In that moment of eternal mysticism...when the magic peaks....freeze yourself into time forever. That way.....you shall have the frozen peak of sensuality.....preserved and to be relished forever.


Aritra: we wash away our make up
but to the world we remain a mere clown
we are just meant for entertainment
neither to feel... nor to frown....

-And it didn’t end, something came in the way…err.

Sea Diaries:
I went to the coast of Bengal, holidays you know… the trip was nice.
I sat at the sea shore, a lil’ away from the regular crowd, in the evening. The sea played an amazing music of solitude, a melody of some faraway land of dream.
I was so much submerged in the ambience; and in the momentary lapse of rumbling thoughts I could only find a discomfited peace that I never felt before. I let go the avarice of ache and detest I held inside.
The far horizon, where lil’ lights of fishing trawlers were tinkering, I kept gazing at it and seemed like I was sailing away, to eternity…
The sea stays alone, with lives smiling at its shore, it roars, shivers, cries in a hollow pain, and only some nomad toddling around the shore would hear it sometimes in its music of waves, the untold story of its hidden heart, longings and loses.
The sea scum whispered in my ears, words of lost love and ….i don’t know what…
But it felt good….really good.
I forgot the need of a smoke.


Snaps from the Sea Diaries:
[Click on the images to view larger size]