23 December, 2014

Tanka of Nights



Eyes blinded by black,
cheese comes in vicinity,
as sun shies away.
Unrelenting eyes, unseen,
by nature, sight to behold.

My light reveals way,
a journey by dray or foot,
through the frequent paths.
Cryptic sea relents, but cloaks,
to heat of wood, on passage.

With mirror hung there,
fire flies up in distant sky
man's gazed eternal.
Fable and lore's seed, I dwell,
devil's mystic time, the night.

Arcane times of world,
esoteric beings rule,
when kings become prey.
The hours of death and darkness,
Nights are never what they seem.

Eyes closed yet open,
a walk in the numinous,
fear instilling nights.
I am a citizen in
the empire of the great owls.


More about Tanka, the poetic form.

Thank you for reading the post.

04 October, 2014

The Hesitation - Pollination

Sorry for taking too long to post a new work.
I have been busy in making submissions and planning a series.
I will be posting the series here, once I start writing it.
As for this story, I had sent this for submission and it was rejected.
Is that a wrong thing to say? I don't know.

Hope you like and understand the work.
Thank you for your support.
And please voice your comments
(They mean more than you'd think they do)

Did I mention that the blog has now got over 1500 hit.
A special thanks for that one too.

Sun shone kindly upon the greenery, enabling them to have their fill for the day. Exotic flowers in the garden of the world filled the minds of the onlookers with effervescence. Glory of nature did not restrict itself to one specie alone. The fragrance of the flowers in full bloom reached the receptors of superior beings too. It was not long till those butterflies reached the place, illuminating the place with their bright colours.

One young insect rested on a leaf, with its tired wings closed at the back. Admiring the delicacy and the winsomeness of nature’s piece of art, it lost track of its work at the place. It was lost for good. The rose petal lips, with green sepal as curving hips of the gorgeous lass and those two protruding stamen, indicating that it was mature, made the butterfly freeze in awe.

The admiration took the being into reminiscence of the past beauties it had met. One led to another and so on till it reached the present. The reality of the present and the importance of its duty struck. It eyed the flower once more. The virginal beauty was something it could admire only in the ignorance of the lustful hunger and the monotonous duty it had to follow.

A beauty so ravishing, it had to be preserved as such. Conserved. For the world to cherish it and savour that moment of adoration. An exquisiteness to be immortalised. The butterfly, that was lost in that moment of veneration yearned for that alone.

Nonetheless it comprehended what had to be done. The moment it enters the bloom, it makes contact, it penetrates the open door, the pure countenance and the manifestation would get sullied. The flower of that moment would cease to exist. It would be gone. The semblance of the art change. The perfection debased.

It sat there looking at others entering various flowers and tarnishing them. The elegance in the flower before it, was gone in those flowers. It too was supposed to enter the flower. It had to or another one would. Yet it sat still making no move towards the flower.

That was the order of nature. To create and then to destroy. But the destruction was not absolute. It paved way for more creation. It was a transformation more than destruction. And that transformation bore, in its own way, a beauty and a perfection the insect could not comprehend. Whether others loved the new expression, it knew not. It didn’t even fathom that others never noticed any beauty at any point amid their hurried lives. But it loathed that metamorphosis. The flower would at first lose its freshness. It would be fertilised. Later it would turn into large and succulent balls that would then be devoured by another being, which would not have known of this virginal beauty. Traversing into eternity, the winsomeness would go unrecalled.

Nevertheless that was how it was. It was only natural for the transmutation. There was a part for it to play in the larger picture. And that transformation was mature’s order. It would not pause, for anyone or anything for such pause would lead to the natural extinction of the beauty. All that should be done is savour the artistry at that moment and appreciate it. Therein lies the joy. Withal, every being seeks only joy in their joy forsaken life.

After one last look, devouring the refinement of the flower, the butterfly flapped its wings and went into the flower to gather nectar.


14 June, 2014

Those Blue Days

Have you seen those Blue days;
Heavenly waters making ways;
Clouds hiding the sun's rays;
Vision blurred by ravishing rays?

Sky, blue in colour,
Cold is the climate,
Joyous is my heart.

Dew on the flower,
And world too quiet,
When did sprinklings start?

On Rivers of rain
Paper ships do sail,
Keeping hope all up.

Pouring in chain,
Into empty pail,
Hiding is my pup.

Earth, now, coated in glaze;
Nature's splendour leaves me in daze.
Have you seen those Blue days,
Vanishing later without trace?

01 June, 2014

Awaken - Climb the stairs




                                                               A passion
An end


                                                               The crowd
The awake

                                                               A Life
The Universe

                                                               A reaction

                                                               The intelligent
The mind


                                                               A divinity
No! Sex


                                                               The man
The nature

14 May, 2014

The migrator

The sunlight, fading in.
My heart, breaking within.
Life has long lost its glee.
I walk into the hall
And see the birds of fall.

Leaving home, they fly away,
As I stand here in dismay.
How do you fly, merrily,
Unafraid of chores, bravely?

Do you not care of world around?
Vexed not of building nest again?
Afraid, as aliens surround?

You fly, unrestrained, past half the world;
While I stay, with belongings to hold,

Wishing to fly like you, My Migrator.

19 April, 2014

Rabid Dunces

The three men took their seats near one another. As the first one prayed for a safe journey, the second took a blank look at him. The third man let out a chuckle of contempt.

As soon as the prayers got over, he gave the third man, who sat against him, a stern look. Then, with his eyebrows raised, searching for acceptance, he looked at the other man. But that man looked undecided. Feeling the pressure of the four eyes upon him, the first man decided to let the cat out of the bag.

"I am a theist," his voice authoritative, "and you are an atheist, I suppose."

The third man nodded with a wry smile, curving the ends of his lips into a wrinkle upwards.

"And the days of the devil are upon us."

The wry smile vanished upon the unfriendly remark. The atheist felt the inside of his cheeks with his tongue.

"You still believe in fairies!"

"It is because of people like you that God chastens all men. You will bring his wrath upon us all."

The nod of the theist's head in penitence spurred his rival. As the sarcasm that was brooding over his face faded, the atheist pulled himself forward and bent, resting on his knees.

"And, it is because of ignorant men like you that decent conversations have become wanting."

The theist straightened up in alertness as the gibe inspired anger within his heart.

"How dare you say so?"

"Because I am not afraid of you or your creation. God."

"God created man. Not the other way."

"That is what fools, who barely know to spell science, say."

"Imbeciles, we may be. For in the eyes of the devil are men of god so."

"Seriously now. Do you have patents and copyrights for these creations of yours? God and Devil? Or are they free to be used?"

"Don't mock the King of all men or you shall molder in hell."

"And I thought this God of yours was merciful."

"He is. And that is what keeps you alive. Alive to change your path towards truth."

"Path towards an asylum, you mean."

Fuming with rage, the theist looked to switch off. As more and more rage made way to his head, he found it hard to think.

"Why do you guys still believe in fairy tales of God?"

A look towards the now serene and pitying face of the atheist calmed the man down. His rage subsided. He turned his view outside the window. His eyes were fixed on a large rock far away from their train, looking stagnant. A small light lit on his face.

"You men propose and believe in stupid theories of man coming from monkeys and universe being born from the destruction of a large ball, and you call the truth as a fairy tale."

The meagre pity in the man deserted him. His look was straight. He up righted himself and wore a thoughtful face.

"I have read the holy scripts thrice and I still believe the scientific evidences backing these theories. You are the guys, blind to the truths of the world, fighting and waging wars to prove yourselves as the greatest."

"Wars are fought, for men disregard the teachings of God. Because they forget that love is what God edicts. And the greatest weapons were not the creations of God. Science and men created them."

"It depends on the men who hold the object. A knife can also be used to murder. Holding the knife or its creator as convicts is madness."

"I never knew that nuclear weapons can be used to slice breads and spread butter."The theist was strongly gesticulating and frowning as he spoke. The other man was not much different. The gesticulations set them apart. But there was the third man, whom the others barely noticed, staring in bewilderment at the two contenders with noting more than a slight doubt on his face.

"Religion was superceded by science and that has brought more pain than gain to this world. We did not create vehicles to pollute the air. What right do we have to stop the birth of a God given child? What sin did it do to die before birth?"

The atheist hurriedly interjected as soon as the sentence came to an end.

"Science has facilitated lives. There may have been some side effects. But that is negligible compared to the benefits."

"No. It has inflicted beastly characters within men. Because of the so called facilities that it offers, men have become savages; brutes, who go in sprees of sexual indulgence; wandering devilishly with conviction over contraception."

Atheist looked outside. At the speed at which the train moved, he was unable to clearly fix eyes on anything that was beside it. He was searching for something outside. Perhaps for some words to counter. He then returned with a calm demeanour.

"To say that religion has nothing to do with wars is to propose your heliocentric theory. The fights fought have been innumerable. There have been endless interreligious wars, intra-religious fights, riots and massacres. Why do you want to hide your sexuality? It is because of you guys that people are so inclined towards sex. A child born at a wrong place, at a wrong time and to wrong persons will suffer. Why should it go through such trauma?"

Glistening eyes of the atheist fixed upon the rivals face. A tinge of smile escaped the edges of his lips. Even if he had not converted his rival, he expected that he surely had converted the third guy. He sneaked a look at him.

"The Architect of fate would have better plans for the child. God never forsakes his children. We are minor beings. We do not know of his webbed plans for mankind, his children. You atheists are too conceited to accept that you are lower beings. That is why you are out to defile the lucid minds."

"If he never forsakes his children why do people die around the world of starvation and illness? Why is there so much pain and trauma?"

"As I said we are minor beings. Too little to know everything. I am sorry but you men are too smug to accept your inferiority in the universe."

"No. You guys are smug and believe that you are too special in this vast universe. And you have even said that you are God's favourite and that he has created you similair to him. It is you who should be ashamed of egocentric preachings."

The personal remark aggravated the so far pent up ego and hatred. His face shrunk even more deeply as the atheist looked with disgust at the man in front of him. He turned his head and spit through the bars of the window. It was perceived as a personal insult, which was what he had intended. Both their eyes met.

Suddenly, at the same time, as though already decided, both turned towards the third man. Their eyebrows rose, questioning him of his allegiance.

He shifted his eyes between each other. His mind doubtful upon whether to be out with the truth, "I am agnostic," he confessed, razing the men's ego and their flight of fancy.

"That is the worst kind. You guys are just plain cowards, unable to accept truths and want to play it safe. Afraid that you will come under barrage."

The theist then completed, "Yes. Like the bats in the battle, waiting to join the winner; afraid to declare your piety. Shame on you."

---The End---

05 April, 2014


In the heart, lies the wick of Curiosity.
And it burns for ever, sans any Ferocity.

Thy wick never shares, with mine, its flame,
For I am all wet, searching for flame.
Come here, with your flame, to light me up.
Let thy flame, dry my wick, rouse me up.
My wick does not burn, no spark has come.
Will thy flame stay calm, near won't it come?

In thy heart, lies the wick of curiosity.
And it burns for ever, sans any ferocity.

Lo! The fire arose, it came so close;
Sparks flew by, lit me up, piled my woes.
My fire hurts me, in ferocity.
Come teach me, to keep tranquillity.
I shame those in nigh, in arrogance.
When alone, I cry, in penitence.

In my heart, lies the wick of curiosity.
And it burns for ever, not sans ferocity.

Aloud it trumpets,  all that it knows.
Fire kindled clefts, have but piled more woes.
Alleviate me, of arrogance.
Thy flame showed me, the path of Patience.

In the heart, lies the wick of curiosity.
And it burns for ever, sans any ferocity.

28 February, 2014

Shattered Spectacles

From the Author:
It is great to know that you all have been following this blog for so long. Thank you for you support. 
It is notable that the blog has got over 1000 hits now.(A mark which people reach very quickly, unlike me.) 

But there are 2 important things that I want from you now.

Please refer this blog to your friends who may be interested in such short stories.

The other is, please comment on how the story is. Even if it is a negative one.

Thank You.
Enjoy your Reading.

The city was still in the grasp of the dense fog that had settled during the night, as Ram walked past streetlight after streetlight, prepared for another day of fight. He reached the place of work and with droopy eyes, fighting the sleep that was waiting to take over; he started arranging the desks for students to use.

It took some time and then students would start pouring in for the class. A strong aroma of flora filled the room as a girl entered. He left to take care of the attendance. On passing a boy, he noted the raw fragrance arising from him. As the boy disappeared into the class, Ram smelt his shirt. A tinge of stink filled his nostrils. He shook his head vehemently. Making a mental note to buy a 50-gram detergent, he sat down with the attendance register.

Broken Glass

Students came in trendy and fashionable outfits. He was counting the legs that passed him to note the number of students who attended the class. He could not get himself to look up at them. Realizing the shabby and worn out clothes he wore and not to mention the slippers, holes of which he covered with his feet, he classified himself in a different league.

Soon, the class was full and the teacher had arrived. As the class began, Ram walked into the room and listened to the impartations of the professor with a giant eagerness. His eyes narrowed and ears widened as he tried to decipher every word he heard. He was poor in English.

Ram heard some chatters in the room. Two boys started chatting with disrespect to the man who was talking. Ram turned his head to have a look at them. Walking towards them, he signalled to maintain silence. His comments went unheeded as the boys continued their activity. Their persistent murmurs made it difficult for Ram to understand what was being said. His old dreams resurfaced.

He ran outside and sat near the stairs. Ram’s eyes were red waiting for the water to breakthrough his eyes. He covered himself mildly so that no one could easily find out what he was doing. All his dreams had shattered the moment he started to work leaving his studies. No one came forward to help the orphan to pay the fees to continue his education. His dream of being a doctor had burnt and slipped through his grasp as smoke would.

Salty waters from the red eyes stained his cheeks. The harsh reality of life had hit him hard, pulverizing his vision through the spectacles of dreams. The shattered spectacles of glass was unrepairable. He had come crashing down. With just a high school certificate, showing his brightness in studies, he was accepted only for menial jobs. He had accepted defeat at the hands of the money-driven society. He was poor.

And here he saw rich people wasting their lives gossiping and chatting despite being offered the priceless chance to study. They seldom appreciated the precious opportunity they had been offered. He wiped the cheeks dry and turned around to find the two boys who had been talking come out of the class halfway through. He inferred that they had been shunted out of the class.

It was as every day. He was left crying by people who never understood but abused their expedient positions. They neither enjoyed their privilege nor helped others like him.

After all, he was just a high-school dropout in the eyes of the society.

---THE END---

17 February, 2014

Suicidal Instincts

Every country has laws. Three laws are constant among all. All nations. All men.
  • Man shall not kill any other man.
  • He shall not kill himself.
  • He shall not put in danger the life of another man.
The three rules of human existence. More like the three rules for robots that science fiction harps on.’

‘Any man, when asked, concurs with the piety of the view for the greater good of humanity and world. Synchronous terms they are, world and humanity, for them. But it takes a deep mind to spot the actual…’

FingerPrint Editions

The waitress’ emergence disturbed my flow of thoughts. An espresso it was. Double. Quite sour, actually. The dark drink flowed over my tongue, through my mouth and I felt it passing through my oesophagus. An effect of pure science. The taste buds were activated. Brain received the signals from them. And a sour taste I felt, that of the coffee, on my tongue.

It was just a signal from the brain. All it needed was an alteration in the brain to make it taste sweet. Placing the cup on table, I looked into the Chinese cup with stern detailing given to the artwork, at the five-star hotel. I preferred my evening drink at the restaurant rather than at the sober room of mine on the third floor.

My mind drew itself to the thought that I had left behind before as I started relishing the sapid taste on my tongue.

‘With those rules in mind, men are born, they live, or more precisely, exist and die. The only exception to these rules is the state. The government. The law. It alone reserves the right to kill a person. The real reason for prohibiting murders and suicides can only be understood upon keen analysis of the same.’

A couple came in making a little too much noise between their intimacies. Their happy and smiling faces assured that they were ignorant of the travails of the world. A nerve of mine twisted as I tried to look at them. It only made my mood worse.

‘People just don’t kill others directly. Their actions kill many indirectly. What wrong did a person born in Africa do to suffer all his life despite the hard work put forth by him all through his life? Not many among other nations can live a day doing his work and feeling his pain. What great deed did a person born in a developed nation do to live his whole life in luxuries that escape a hard worker in the third world? Isn’t there even a single person in the developed nation who doesn’t deserve the luxuries he has been bestowed with?’

‘Why should this man in Africa be in the dark about the technologies of the developed nations? Why do not nations share their technology with other nations? Is it because they are afraid of other nations overtaking them and becoming supreme? What do you do when you come to that spot? Number 1. Push over the petty nations for money, land and oil.’

My hands were trembling as the thoughts poured without a break. The waitress walked past my table looking deep into my heart. The poor woman must have felt cheated. The chances that she guessed my intentions were too negligible. The coffee in my hand had spilled. I took the tissues placed on the table to wipe it off and continued.

‘Why isn't there any substitute for oil? If the amount spent to extract and then convert crude oil into petroleum had been invested on research, many new alternatives would have existed. Some greedy capitalist probably lobbies for Oil Companies, so that they all remain wealthy. After all, weren't there people who produced arms and induced wars among nations to make profit in the Century of War?’

The cup was empty and the waitress came to clear the table. I asked for the bill and stared around the restaurant. There were few takers for the morning breakfast in this part of the world. At least at this hotel. Not many had come down to the restaurant. ‘War.’ My eyes fixed over a photograph hung on the wall of the restaurant. The photo showed a big zeppelin with some description below it boasting the massive machines men had built while it should be signifying shame.

‘Billions have been spent on war and armaments to kill people while the amount spent to keep people alive in the third world is alarmingly negligible. Despite an international body to uphold peace, love and peace have become almost non-existent. Many people envy their neighbours and plot against their co-workers. Who bothers about that unrelated anonymous person standing next to you? Who bothers about his survival and sufferings? If we are not bothered about this person, why would we be bothered about that poor person in an anonymous country in Africa, Asia and America, who earn not even a single unit of currency a day despite his hard work all through the day?’

‘A person in Africa earns not even a dollar a year, while in developed states people's entertainment costs runs over billions. Millions are being spent on a sports star. Isn't a life in Africa worth even hundred dollars an year? People are happy to spend in thousands to watch a sport at a stadium but cry the hell out of their lives to give something to another man. Countries are ready to spend millions for space exploration but they are crying to spend to save the world from pollution. They are crying to spend even a small percentage of what they spend to destroy the Ozone. Doesn’t this ultimately equal to people killing others?’

The waitress produced the bill. The coffee was blasphemously dear. Selling price, at these high profiled hotels, are so high mainly because of their brand value and image despite their poor quality and taste, yet people come here to have one, for the non-existent entity called ‘Status.’ I took my wallet out and placed the tender of the bill with some tip for the waitress as customs demand, for her shrill look at me moments ago.

‘Money. People have fought, killed and committed suicides over these unworthy notes of paper and fibre. Such innocent looking artefacts, these things make or break a person. Selfish people still make up most part of this world. Some realise it and some do not realise it.’

I checked my pockets for the room key and proceeded towards the lift. It was at my floor. Boarding it and pressing the button, I noticed the couple beside me glaring at me. They probably had not brought a paper and pen with them for an autograph. I couldn't smile at them. I just proceeded as soon as my floor came.

‘It is for this same reason that people put barriers on murders and suicides. Selfishness. What will happen if the person murdered turns out to be the next Einstein? What will happen if the person committing suicide finds out something so precious that it would save the world? People. Always expecting others to help others and themselves. They are seldom ready to take up the mantle and support others but critique every person who comes forward to help.’

‘In the end, they all say that no man has the right to end life but knowingly or unknowingly they do just the same and kill others and force them to commit suicide. So much for living in this world.’

As I opened the door to my room my mind wavered over the decision I had made.

‘Maybe I should try to continue writing. It might affect the world.’

But another voice lapsed over it. ‘No. There is not much you can do now. All that is left is for you to die. Better sooner than later. Such a high profile death will surely rock the world. All thanks only to the last literary award.’

I walked into my room and fell down on the bed. Red stain spread over the pillows. I closed my eyes to sleep resting assured that the media would take care of things from where I left. A sleep that would take me past all the agony and the travails of the world.

(quite literally)

Thank you all for your repeated visits. I have taken a long break from this blog but your continuous readership makes me to continue my works. If not for you all, I know not how my life would have gone through the changes it has gone through.

Do comment your views and opinions.

Hope you all Like the new space and site.

Who am I? Or is it Who I am?