These are insanities which my mind floods out at a certain mood.
I am not responsible for the things I write here
but my mind is...
To the awry and incomplete propositions, he fights knowing that its for nothing. The enlightened slavery of this enigma which pounce upon him with acute itches which may open up a deep wound if scratched. He asked which way I should lead you. There was no reply. Silence prevailed paths. The decision is about the path not about him. Was it ever?
My impromptu views promptly decayed by the unrealistic realities. Thousand dreams and thousand wishes, each ends in a tragic reality. Who made the mistake? the answer is always we. Everyone and everything else is just reasons. The sarcastic miseries of life playing anomalous tyranny on me. The dominance which cannot be pacified by the outcries of obsolete present. Framed by words, framed by emotions, framed by distance, the result is all the same. Pulling down the deep proportions of the past, the dilemma still remains. Its all the same, echoing through the heart. The author cried, hold me tight, hold me to heart. I am falling, catch me. Crucify me for the imminent mistakes, bury me for the misleading comments. I may not resurrect, I may not phoenixfied, but I may lay down in the memoirs as a hateful memory.
9% or 8% which is more. chimay acting up fast. What should I say about it. “Peres Trappistes”. Perhaps I wished things be true, perhaps I didn’t. So the more you ingest or infect yourself, less the chances to escape. This is a story about my friend. He told me the story and he died. He gave me the consent to spit it out before everyone. Perhaps those who know him will understand. He believed or in his words, “I Hope”. Hope was everything for him, his life, his career, his love, his dreams. He believed it was because of his hope, he survived all those years. So started betting on his hopes. He believed he was the chosen one, the one made to do things, the one made to have things. He was in a dream world of hopes, if he hope… he will get it. He was hope struck. When ever he talked to me, he used to tell me about a simple hope but a complex outcome. He never wanted anyone to know about it till the outcome. Since he hoped the outcome will be always in his favor, he never bothered about the negative outcome. So he always was adamant and want to surprise everyone. But he was hopeless this time. It struck him so badly that he forgot himself. He forgot what hope was. He forgot what he hoped for. Never mentioned, never noticed… he realized.. he was nothing.
Everyone writes about love and compare it to their heart but no one bothers to say the other way. Here is something for my heart, which is my love.
Postulation, prayers for a dying heart…
Humbly I bow down before thee my beloved heart. The days are less, the hours are less. Oh my dying heart, you had a small life. 7 months like 7 years like 7 centuries, can you survive another battle. Injecting the rays of hopes whenever the heartbeats are low. Thy shall live for ever in my mind and soul. The memoirs of my heart, the impulse feeling, the low pressure moments, the bloodless battles, the shy full introverts, the paralyzing hardship. Thy arteries and ventricles commands the mind and soul. Why thee have to die, why thee have to go.
Be the snow white and resurrect the day I kiss you, enchant the soul and mind. Increase your beats, increase your pressure. Let the mind go inane, let the soul go insane. You are the one, the only one, the heart, the beat, the pulse. Break the soul, break the mind. escape from this eternal life. Thy bloody veins pinching the soul, thy scruples pulses hurting the mind. Let you rest in peace, let you resurrect from the blood. Don’t let this hopeless hopes be remembered as heartless hopes. I am concerned about you my heart. Who will cremate you, who will bury you, who will give you the kernel of life. The sanctity of heaven, the analogue waves of thee is reluctant to reach my mind, my soul. Its the days of digital life. Send me a digital heart and be my digital pulse. Thy shall be my love, thy shall be me. Oh my heart, resurrect from the perish. You are the one, revoke the scars, revoke thee from the diminishing pressures, from the lowering pulses.
The Añejo Blanco smell smearing inside. The visual effect of the vehement fever. The cocktail defining the conglomeration of sweetness. There is no hatred, there is no war, there are no lies… just love. It looks like a mountain in one of my photographs… far far away, neither revealing itself completely nor forbidding itself from being tasted. Ya yes the taste of bitter sweetness or sour bitterness. Brilliantly trying to hide the prominent ugliness of mind. I walked today with face towards the mystic sky…. drizzling down on to my face. Was it the tears of happiness or pain. I didn’t look at the cross section, I didn’t bother about the bright light of vehicles revealing my rabid face. Forcing myself to pray for something I hate most.
May be it is not the time yet. May be its high time. Its been on and off in my mind, bit by bit, byte by byte. thoroughly. The undefined deviance of life..
Still it didn’t rain. He was there always, all the time waiting for the downpour. The wind blowing with its chill piercing the thin layer of cotton, he thought its a prologue. Stopped half way in that lonely road and the uncertainty made him return and again walking through the same, he hoped it may rain. He was looking at the sky every now and then…Suddenly a drop of water fell on his cheeks, it started!!! Then nothing..was it from the sky or from his eyes, he wondered. The phone rang, he eagerly checked as if it is a forecast of rain…an acquaintance eagerly asked “is it raining??”.. mockingly, he smiled in vein and replied it may snow as there is no defrost. At every turn he was sure it will rain by the time he reaches the next and the next then again the next..Still it didn’t rain.
The jokes of wind on the windows and the door made him rush outside, he was eager to engulf the smell of the rain. Hopelessly slithered by the parody, he hoped it may… Smiling through the night dreaming the white flower glazed by the drops, he hoped in the morning… His solitude became hornbills sat along with him waiting for the rain.. Still it didn’t rain.
It was a Sunday I was walking thinking of something or other towards the hotel. Hunger making protests on my slow walk and the thoughts further slowing me down. Contradiction everywhere and on everything. The moon was full and bright, hmm… might be a full moon day. Checking a Sunday with full moon, I might be able to identify the exact date. Oh no use, dates are all the same. I remember when I was in school, I used go for tuition.
Once a guy told “Today is a bad day”.
Teacher asked ” Do you believe in god”
“ya of course”
“Do you think everything is created by god?”
“ya yes”
“Since god created everything, he created days too, so all days are good right”
Ya true about non living things. I think humans are created by evil may be in between it creates some one good for a change.. 
Saw regular dogs, getting ready for a furious night. A groups of puppies which suddenly appeared from nowhere from last few days hanging around their mothers breasts, 1,2…5. Five of them, wondering how many breasts a dog will have. The mother dog on all four, back legs spread to accommodate all 5 puppies. What will be its feeling while feeding? Sometimes it moves forward, the puppies run behind and fighting to get milk. They might be biting. Do they have teeth at this age? Do they have milk teeth like human. Moving ahead I saw another group of puppies, smaller ones. These are new one. Very small just sitting in front of a car without knowing what to do. Mother dog might have went to fill its stomach. Don’t think these puppies started eating, may be just liquid food. May be some food given by the mother dog after making it soft by chewing. I wonder where these dogs are delivering the puppies. May be the said to be future park near my house. Enough space for all the dogs to deliver….
To be continued….