|| शरारत ||

कद ६ फुट 

सीना ५६ इंच

उम्र २६ साल ९५ दिन

इसको  छेड़ दूँ

उसको  छेड़ दूँ

पूरी दुनियां छेड़ दूँ  ।

आँखों में शरारत

दिल में बेचैनी

दिमाग सोच में

क्या कैसे किसको कब छेड़ू !

हर समय चलता एक विचार

किसको बनाऊ अगला शिकार

कौन है मेरा सानी यहाँ

एक ही हुआ है मुझसा यहाँ !

सबको हँसाने का है ज़िम्मा मेरा

सच बोलके या झूठ

कौन करे इसकी परवाह ।

कोई हँसता

और कोई रुठ जाता

कोशिश में इसकी

कभी कभी हू मैं  हार जाता ।

पर कोशिश नहीं छूटेगी

एक दिन ये दुनिया याद करेगी

वो जो हँसाता भी था

और साथ में मारता भी था ।

Shocketry a.k.a Shocking Poetry!

It’s really heartning to see that the first post by me received such great response; thank you guys! You always manage to make me feel extra special! :D

I would like to begin with a leetil sorry to Stephen. It actually skipped me that you can only post older posts on weekends. So that won’t happen again. However, this is good news for YOU guys, the readers, if you like reading my writing. You would now see one NEW post here every week especially for this place. And on the weekend, you would also be able to witness one of my older, more popular stories. That makes it atleast TWO posts from me every week! :D

Since this is a new place, I thought of doing something NEW for it. At this moment, I hereby coin a new form of poetry: SHOCKETRY! I define Shocketry as nothing but Shocking Poetry. It can always be a good shock or a bad shock. The only condition is it MUST have shock value! Your boyfriend growing horns. The school teacher turning into an octopus. Anything. Wild!

The Pumpkin’s Revenge

It was late at night

And Jack sat down

On the night before Halloween.

With knife and pumpkin on his lap

All ‘ready’, if you know what I mean!

For years together,

 Jack always made

Lanterns Big and Small

And during Halloween, Jack o’ Lanterns shone

In the houses, one and all...

So on this night

Without a fright

Jack poised his knife on top

Before the blade could make the cut

He heard a grave voice say “STOP!”

“No more lanterns!”

The pumpkin said,

“We have taken this all too long!”

And before Jack knew, the pumpkin broke

Into a pumpkin song!

The song now over,

And Jack quite frozen

The result was very strange

Jack spoke not a word, nor did any gesture

For both seemed out of range

Next morning when

the villagers came

to take their lanterns home

It seemed just like any other Halloween

The way the years had known.

“This one looks like Uncle Jack!”

A child squealed looking at his piece

The villagers giggled

and praised crafty Jack, saying

“I think we should pay his fees!”

Jack now hangs

Outside a door

With a candle in his head

And if the poem scared you bad,

Make sure you don’t wet your bed!

P.S.- The facebook page just crossed 200 LIKES!! Fresh music uploaded today! Make sure you check it out here. My De-scribe blog also crossed 200 followers! Do check it out for fresh stories and great music! And in-case you want to write your own Shocketry on this blog or your own, make sure you put a link to my blog! Have a great day...see you soon! :)

Pain - Migraine

And again, migraine strikes,
inflicting agony with metal spikes.
Medicines don't work,
cigarettes but irk.
Wounded I am more with every thought,
what should I do, smoke pot?

What thoughts bring -

Tyrannous kings.

Feckless things.
Trembling strings.
Broken wings.
Nightingale sings.
Abandoned rings.
Music clings. 

Independence

Our spirits soaring,
Our voices roaring.
In unison, we prepare;
National anthem, we flare.
Yes, we are independent.


With poverty, corruption;
Through strikes, disruption.
We make our country glow,
In dirty shades of yellow.
No doubt, we are independent.


Drowning in debts of billions,
And breeding at the same in millions.
Catastrophes we cannot deal,
But four brave lions adorn our seal.
Bravely yes, we are independent.


In fake optimisim we bask,
Adjusted realism is our mask.
Why don't we hoist ourselves up?
Like the flag, that flutters-
With the world, let's catch up.
Let's be independent.

p.s. - I wrote this for my brother's school assignment. :P

Aslo, posted on my blog. :)

Love You Mom

In the darkness of your womb

I was safe though I was numb

Came to the world naked & crying

I know with pain you were dying

Still you kept the smile on your face

Because I was fine with God's grace

The moment you held me first time

I was relieved and stopped crying

The first things I did were special to you

First smile or word uttered or a walk too

The nick names you gave me I still remember

Though with some of them I didn't resemble

Whenever I got sick you didn't sleep

I know you care with your heart deep

Sometimes I made you angry and fought

But each time I got a lesson taught

Your blessings are all what I treasure

You don't even show off your gesture

I pray to God that on my part I never cheat

And bring all the happiness under your feet

I love you so very much my Mom

Without you, our house is not home

Truly said that God can't be everywhere

So He sent the mother to take care

Replica...

Deepak

Once Again...

Once again, I feel that emptiness

raging intensely,

filling up my soul.

It reminds me of the promises

never made to be fulfilled.

Once again, the man in the mirror 

looks sad.

A fading shadow of a happiness.

I turn off the light to let that face

dissolve in the darkness of the night.

Once again, pour a million drops

of the rain of reasons to cry.

The earth swells with tears

falling from my eyes,

perhaps to touch her.

Once again, December comes,

colder than before,

sending shivers down.

I did not love the cold,

but it was winter in my heart.

Once again, a star fell,

as I wished 'let me forget'.

So many stars have broken since.

My sky is almost void

but her thoughts return.

Once again, I hear that note,

of the perfect music.

I stopped and listened,

to my favorite song.

Someone had called out her name again.

- The Lover @ SoulIntoxicated

The YOU That Pain Built

Brick by brick a pain builds,

nurtured by tears

nourished by the hurt.

A pain so sweet,

a precious treasure.

Fragrant like yesterday,

hopeful as tomorrow.

Pain nevertheless.

Sometimes just a whispering wind

or as gentle as a pinprick.

Often as thunderous as hailing stars

or an aching smile.

Sometimes like the grey in your hair,

or a bosom friend in despair.

Often like sand in your fist

seeping through the gaps.

Sometimes a relief

or unlearnt faith and belief.

In a small tiny prayer,

when you’re hurt and have some pain to spare,

thank your stars that you hurt,

You cried,

You rose.

Pain has built YOU,

brick by brick,

tear by tear.

As you stand on your grave,

never forget what you’ve buried.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Life is painful. Some people break apart and some people stand stronger. What kind are you? Will you bury the pain or let it bury you? Of course, never forget what you've buried.

- The Lover @ Soul Intoxicated

MEIN TO MARAA HUA HOON

पूचो  न  कुछ  मुझसे  यारों
में तो मरा हुआ हूँ 
जीते ही मार दिया था मुझको
बहुत डरा हुआ था में तो
कमाल की  वक़्त थी वह  जब
तुम और में मिले थे
बेकार लगती थी  सब कुछ
सिवा प्यार की वह बातें
पता ही नहीं था , प्यार होता क्या
तब तक, जब तक में तुझे खो  चुका था
तुम्हारे बिना जीना भी क्या जीना है
अच्छा हुआ, में तो मरा हुआ हूँ

Poocho na kuch Mujse Yaron
Mein to maraa hua Hoon
Jeete hi maar diya ta mujko
Bahut dara hua  ta mein to
Kamaal ki waqt thi wo Jab
Tum aur mein mile the
Bekar lagthi thi sab kuch
Siva pyaar ki woh batein
Pata hi nahi thaa, pyar hota kya
Tab tak, Jab tak mein tujhe ko chukaa thaa
Tumhare bina jina bhi kya jina hai
Achcha hua mein to maraa Hua hoon

Leftovers

I’m picking up the pieces,

confused between ink and blood.

I’m told not to speculate.

Categorically some spaces can be filled,

if you try hard enough.

I’m dusting a couple of unmeasured words,

and a defeaning silence untouched.

I’m corroding all the dusty stories,

that you will never tell.

I’m waiting for a “maybe later”

knowing it will never come.

I’m folding all the memories pleated.

They were only momentary

but I like to exaggerate.

At least my thoughts are elastic.

You leave like always.

I don’t want you to, like always.

But I never really had a say in it.

All I wanted was to show you the moon in my palm.

I am now picking up the leftovers.

- The Lover @ Soul Intoxicated

Dead Poet

He once wrote of love and of passion,

of happiness and of faith.

And they walked into his life

like his words upon a page.

His poetry held the right meanings.

There was no need for caution,

  as he never imagined her to be a mere wraith.

The grasp of fantasy was rife.

He didn’t expect it would assuage.

His poetry spoke of no ends, just beginnings.

But the pages burned as his love departed

and slowly the meanings changed.

He now wrote of hurt and of pain.

He wandered in the dark, lost.

His poetry spilled tears of loss.

He changed the way his poetry started,

He wrote of lovers estranged,

of tears and of rain,

and of the many ways to accost.

His poetry had words in chaos.

He realised he had made a mistake

and tried to write his story.

He wrote the first line

but his love was reluctant

to be stripped naked to the world.

Persuasion only gave him a heartache

and he had never been more sorry.

He decided to consign

all that his words had meant

to a parade of love’s mockery unfurled.

He never wrote of love again,

gave up on hopes of a promise

and the dependence on his heart.

His poetry held no meaning anymore,

even the ones of love belied. 

He no more let himself be in pain,

something in him had gone amiss,

as if he was this way from the start.

He made sure words would no longer pour

and quietly, the poet in him died.

- The Lover @ Soul Intoxicated

Broken

I did not make a mess of myself,

just for the sake of drama.

I did it to facilitate my survival.

It makes no sense to anyone

as to how I lived the way I did.

But why would I want this?

The reality is such that I cannot comprehend myself.

It is broken now, if not from the start.

Why should I be in need of you?

When I have abandoned myself,

what can I possibly expect

from your vixen psyche

except to push me off the cliffs

or to stomp on my fingers as I grab the edge?

It was broken in heaven, if not in hell.

Yet another cordon of irony in my way,

every tribulation was crafted by you

and convoluted by your spite.

After every stumble, every fall,

I heard your incessant laughs.

You try your best to make it unbearable,

to make my nightmares come alive -

apparitions of affliction, messages of pretense.

It was broken for better, if not for worse.

Your façade sucked me in,

while you became the instrument of Karma.

What goes around comes around sharper

piercing through my chest when I least expect it.

I’m still whole, yet a mere shadow,

with no existence of my own,

zilch without the light.

It was broken in joy, if not in sorrow.

Call me callous if it satisfies your pride,

calm your nerves with my defeat,

but I wouldn’t change a single thing.

I’d rather go through every ordeal a million times more,

before I give up the luxury of my last smirk.

The only stain on my conscience

is the fact that I actually loved you.

It broke swiftly, if not painfully slowly.

At the end of things,

before I dissolve into oblivion,

you rejoice and celebrate on the eve of my downfall;

but in vain, all in vain.

It is my victory, satiation for what’s left of my soul.

I did this to myself.

Now go and gouge your eyes out.

I’ll console myself for an eternity with this one thought.

You did not break my heart; I let you break it.

It broke for the last time.

- The Lover @ Soul Intoxicated

Old Age

I think of those eventful years
When I was at my Prime
Life looked so beautiful in all its Glory
With all the Tact and skill
I wrote the pages of my Story
Never did I stop to think all this could end
I was in a dream that took me places
Never remembered all the phases
That came and went in my Journey
When I woke up and stared in the mirror
Found an old man looking like a smear
Aha, this is the phase when you have all the time
To ponder upon your deeds and triumphs
I Blog@ My Musings

Childhood Bliss

It was so wonderful to just Laugh and play
Not a care in the world, its true I say
Hugs and kisses were all that I got
In return for all my smiles on the trot
With my chubby cheeks and dimple chin
There were none that I could not win
Wish I could always remain that way
As a little Baby and keep my worries away
I Blog@ My Musings

Frailty thy name is Woman

How lovely were the times when you were so nice
Fresh as the morning mist and tingling as the Ice
The walks we went through the pine wood forest
Holding your hand , we seldom needed rest
I held you in my arms and looked into your eyes
River of desire I could never fathom in hundred tries
Ever a mystery you remained for me till date
When you left me I could blame no one but Fate
I Blog@ My Musings

One Single Impression Prompt - Colors

Like the changing colors of seasons
We are making changes too
To appreciate all the colors of life
We are letting go of….
few things in our life too!

TV has been deemed broken
No fairy can fix it for you
My twin girls are exasperated
But they will learn soon

Colors that had faded from life
Are again being added
Some artwork together
Some reading of books together
Some family time
Are being added to the menu

Yard needs care
We need to go ride that cycle too
That lovely radio
Needs to be switched on
Yahoo ‘little kidz tunes’
Rocks on!

That closet needs to be organized
Summer clothes need to be put away
Lord Krishna must be wondering
Where his devotee went away
Need to start chanting again
When and why did I stop?
I need to give up waste
And color my life again.


Shraddha

Face of psychosis

One Single Impression Prompt 82 - Fog


This fog of ignorance
Denies me to understand
Where is that thin line that divides
Spiritual awareness from psychotic tendencies?

Image by Zenilorac at flickr

Don’t get me wrong
I am a seeker
Don’t get me wrong
I am a believer

But too many cases I have heard
Where psychosis takes an ugly turn
There were no divine messages from TV
Nature was not telling anything at all
Did you connect dots that were irrelevant?
And set up yourself for a free fall?

Photo by Nyki_M

This ugly truth of Psychiatry
Baffles me
Disturbs me
I want to understand the subject
Understand it more deeply
I want to see that thin line
And understand
When it’s a disease?
Or
When someone is touched with angels?

I have myself felt the bliss
When in touch with nature
But I do not want
This silent thick fog of ignorance to engulf me
To consume me in ‘spiritual materialism’
I want to stay open
I want to stay alert
I want to increase my ‘spiritual quotient’
But I want to understand Psychiatry first.

Shraddha @ The Self Love Project

Letter

Prompt @ Carry on Tuesday

He had got the phone call already
He knew she was dead
She wanted to be a soldier
Fight for her country
So she did
But she was dead now
Two babies in his arms
And
That letter that she had written
.... for his birthday
It had come by post now....
That letter sat before
him, unopened,
propped against a coffee mug



Photo by Nukeit1 at Flickr

Other Cool blogposts that i liked in this meme

Anthony North

Swapna

BryAntics

Gemma

Heavenly Longing

Pearly moon, show thy face,

Reflect thy light on these waters;

So halcyon they are right now.

Lead me to him who awaits me,

A star by your side was my love.

Rising tides embracing the wind,

Take me when enraged is the sea;

There many miles below, a dock.

A vessel so fine, rests there alone,

My love waits there, for wedlock.

Dark night, I pray, engulf me,

I wish not to see the light again;

My wait, it shall not end soon.

Only a star, I wish now to see,

It is he, smiling beside the moon.

Wedlock in heaven, for us waits,

Just get to his side soon, I must;

For his wait has been very long.

Just a moment more, here alone,

Then by his side, where I belong.

Word Count: 133

I Blog @ Figments of Imagination

Submitted for WL Moonlight Picture Contest, Poetry  and crossposted to my blog.

Cut out my tongue

Cut out my tongue so i could taste the blood.
Pulled out my eyes so i could see past the hell.
Sewed my lips shut so I couldn't lie.
Bound my arms so I couldn't reach out,
And tied my feet so I wouldn't walk out.

I'm not fucking going anywhere
Keep cutting me up,
The pieces don't move by themselves.

So odd how my dreams come true.
The nightmares, the fantasies
They're all the same to me.
Chains wrapped around my neck,
you tell me, is this happy or fear?
What emotion comes to your head?

I'm holding in this last choking breath
Cough, Cough, its gone.
Well damn that sucks, I guess thats too bad
Sucking in water instead;
Through the thread keeping my mouth closed
Won't say any words I don't mean,
Won't say anything.

Purple circles underneath these sockets
No cash flow in these shallow pockets.
Wanna pat me down,
Don't have anything to hide
Cept this mind of mine full of the sickest shit
Mother fucker, you don't know the half of it.

Cut out my tongue so i could taste the blood,
Pulled out my brown eyes so I could see past this hell
Sewed my lips shut so I couldn't lie.
Bound my arms so I couldn't reach out,
And tied my feet so i couldn't walk out,
but you threw me in the ocean to drown.

(something which i ain't proud of, nor my style, i guess first and last of this thingy)




Check out my blogs for more:

• Beyond The canvas
• Beep Beep Its Me
• Rickety Arts