Thursday, 15 May 2014

Doomsday Premonition?

Evil reprises as dirt begins to fade
Love and hatred mate on sand
And burn along with sickle and spade
With worms squiggling with dying filth
And the Demons of dawn succumb
To the spreading of the plagues’ wealth

The blood is dripping from mouths platonic
And eyes are gouging with shame ridden low
Satan laughs as Hell crusades on the catatonic
And life becomes the apocalypse we all awaited for

The Gods are no longer there for us
They committed self-righteous holy suicide
The nectars and waters all filled with pus
As blood flies begin to feast upon our eyes

The day has come for madness to commence
As people will all disappear in the day
Life as we know will come to and end as
The dead will return to rule the realms of us mortals
And we will be no longer existing

As the minds of our selves will guide us to our sepulchers


The sinister mask of death that stares at my face with hollow eyes follows me beyond every checkpoint of my horrible nightmare. There must be a reason why the iron tree that I saw burning did not melt. Maybe it was the miniature particles around it that the birds dropped. All life shall end. Every angel shall be castrated and every demonic flame extinguished.
When light and dark copulate to populate our wildest fears, that is when we know the end is near. The gaseous residues that burn our world, the chemical warfare that we induce unto our own, that will be the end of us.
Paper wealth is nothing compared to the riches that Mother Earth was robbed off.
This is only but the first cycle of our nightmarish sleep.
Be wary my friend.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Wednesday, 14 May 2014


Why is it that we all make mistakes? Why is it, that we never want to learn from the mistakes of others? Is it so important for each and every one of us to make the same mistakes by ourselves and learn the lesson that someone so dear to us was trying to teach us?
Is it our ego that marks upon our decisions or is it our emotions? What controls them more? The Ego , the Emotions, or is it something more?
Why is it that every time we mug up for an exam, we remember most? Why is it that we get anxious over numbers that are imaginary and devised only to prove our worth, but mean nothing?
It is all a pretentious farce!
We live in a world that teaches us to live life in a particular way. There are rights and there are wrongs. No subjective viewpoints. That is the way the world functions. It is not by observation, but by being told. Then why, do we not listen to the more important things in life?
A blogpost is no place to find enlightenment, but you never know, what may strike you as inspirational. If I can find inspiration in a dead puppy, you can find it in a candy wrapper. Who is to say?
And what if we make mistakes? Are we wasting our time? Yes, probably! When we know it's a mistake and yet we pursue it. That is utter bullshit. Learn to live and not waste time. And learn the difference between recreation, leisure and wasting time too. You may be making a mistake in choosing the wrong option.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Tuesday, 13 May 2014


Strangulation. The tepid ropes of the vile education system curled themselves against the Adam’s apple of his throat as he lay writhing in pain from the fever that had engulfed his numb body. He was lying there, sweating profusely, crying silently over the spiritual disaster that was his life. For a long time the potholes of the princely societal acceptance had haunted his smooth ride in life, making every possible bump as painful as can be. Hell cannot even hope to be so sadistic. And his state at the moment was hell. Hell to the truest form.
The ceiling fan moved silently, like a ninja slicing the air around with its assassin’s blade. The air grew old and aged as time passed in the night. Beads of sweat swarmed his face, his body, his hairy legs. The bed seemed too small to hold in his big dilemma. The sheets too tiny to keep him warm to the fullest. He had covered his face, breathing the carbon that he had exhaled only a few moments back. The darkness of the night had only but profoundly bled out dry, only to leave behind dark bruises in the atmosphere that was his room. The same room he lived, no, the same room he existed. Living is a term debatable for this sort of life. An education that has no meaning, pursuing a piece of paper that holds your dignity and walk shamefully if it cannot be achieved. This is the narrow-minded lifestyle that they all lived. His peers. His perpetrators. His parents.
He fell asleep talking to his girlfriend, knowing that he was tired. But the fever that dawned upon him knew not its limits. It wasn’t just a physical ailment; it was much more. The scars and bruises were not left on the outer shell of the human body that was his self, but deeper inside. The scars lay on his mind. The bruises painted his soul. The stink and rot of a lustful craving for self destruction had been clinging onto his back forcefully kept there for a better status in society.
But what would these social bastards know of the pains and penance a little man like him would pay for that unchecked and adulterated dignity? What would his friends know of the agony of anointing ink in the wasteful use of thoughtless words? What would the very non-existent God do if challenged about the pains? There were no answers to these rhetoric doubts that flooded him as he lay, writhing in pain.
Was it the food that sickened him? The tiring day in a disgusting place full of filthy, despicable and tasteless fools who lived only because they had a life, exhausted his living strength? What was it that troubled his soul to the extent that the physical attributes attached had to suffer like Icarus who tried only to fly. It was this. The troubles and times of past that haunted him. Mistakes that had trodden him down before, that were in effect again, at a different pace, at a different magnitude, but mistakes nonetheless.  

A Thought on Life

I was once told, that no matter what you do in life, you must always be the best at it. Even if you end up being a mere gardener, be that gardener that people would pay craploads to hire. And they would not hire you, they would request for your services. That is the kind of person you should be, that is the kind of professional you should be!If you cook, be that cook who can overcharge for his skills and never be questioned. Be that filmmaker whose expertise can never be questioned and whose work can seldom be criticised. Be that person who works not for other people, but whom other people wish to work with.Professions are only a way to spend your time, earn your money and waste your life in. But if you do something you love, something that doesn't feel like a chore and something that can give you and your loved ones enough time and resources to live a happy life, that is all you need. At least, that is all that I believe you need.Who needs a sports bike or a super car? You can walk, spread less pollution, and live healthy. Who needs a housekeeper? Learn to wash your own dishes. If you weren't brought up in that kind of environment, make sure you make that kind of environment when you come in control of your life. After all, your life is under your control. Your influence is what will shape the lives of the people around you.To be happy, choose what you must, but choose wisely.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Monday, 12 May 2014

The Dog

Ever wonder what dogs think of when they stare at the sun?
Their lost families, their old days of fun?
The time they young and in size they were small,
Protected and loved, a litter after all!
And then one by one, each lost its way,
One adopted for love, another given away,
Some find homes, others remain astray
Like that dog who stares
At the ending of another day
But is the day at end?
Or is it her life?
The sun fades away
The day turns to night...

He had Won

He walked alone, on a desolate street, thoughts of joy churning through his mind. The sky was gloomy but his mind afresh. Filled with emotions of jolly, his feet carried him towards his destination. Stars revolved around his head, as angels and demons danced to salute him. His was a victory of pride and honor. He had earned it. He had been in utter disgrace and now, he had won.
He was a lad from a happy family. No worries or troubles even meddled with his peace. But then came that little idiot of a boy. What was his name? Aah well, it’s not necessary anymore. That Idiot, as he would always refer to him, made his college life miserable. It was his first day in college when this Idiot met him. Idiot was a senior and so, he respected him. But little did he know, that this Idiot, meant to rag him.
Well, that was in the past. That Idiot was dead now. And he killed him.
Yes, this boy who we are reading about, walking towards his destination, well, yes. He killed him.
His destination?
Insanity. Yes, it was insanity. You didn’t believe that this story was going somewhere good did you? Oh well, too bad. He grinned as he walked towards insanity.
A tiny door opened in a house at the end of the street and a wrinkled gray hand gestured him inside. He walked in. Inside was an abyss with nothingness surrounding him, with a silent deathly aura and an aroma of filth and reeking flesh. He kept smiling. He had won.
A million spider webs shot at him, entangling his limbs and body into yielding. He knelt down as huge hairy apes slapped him red and raw. He kept smiling. He had won.
Why they asked. No reply. He kept smiling. He had won.
Was it so bad? The Idiot had driven him to insanity. Yes, it was the Idiot who had tortured his whole living mental state, so much that he resorted to a mind of blood rather than beauty. Can ragging actually take you to such extreme limits?
I don’t know. Ask him! Ask him all you want. All he will do is smile. But of course, what can we say?
He had won. 

Saturday, 10 May 2014

Photography Project

So this is my Photography project that I did a few months ago for college. I have used some of these pics in some of my blog posts, but I thought, hey, let this be a a separate blogpost where I can share all my pics as they are meant to be. So here it is.
For the assignment, we had to take up any social issue and make a 10 pic photo essay. I will not say more about it, I'll let my pictures speak for themselves.
Do comment your thoughts.

...The Choice is Yours.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Friday, 9 May 2014

Writer's Block

There comes a time in every writer's life when he or she cannot produce what is most precious or prepossessing. This vile time is better known by the term, 'Writer's Block'.
I call it something else; I call it: The Lazy Mind Syndrome.

You don't have writer's block, you're just looking for excuses to not write. Probably you have a lot of distractions that you are intentionally succumbing to. Maybe it is just a simple 2048 game or a gigantic family reunion that you just can't afford to miss.


Nothing can be an excuse. You don't write once, cover it up, but don't ever put the blame on someone else! It isn't your dog, or your neighbour! Not even your girlfriend/boyfriend! For gods' sake, it's you!!! You are the block to the writer inside you!

And honestly, this Lazy Mind Syndrome is applicable to almost every  different kind of work that can be imagined. I mean, yeah I have never heard of Pilot's Block, but you get the point. I hope you do.

Why I made this post? Well, because I myself am going through some sort of a Lazy Mind Syndrome. I hate it that I haven't written as much as I should/could have. I am almost a month behind schedule. I hope you all are faring better than I am.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

A Reflection of Perception

I bet you all have read something in your lives. A card, a TV newsflash, a newspaper and of course, a book. We read this magnificent and complex combination of 26 letters that bring out the most beautiful of emotions and vivid pictures in our minds. A simple 26 letters that are placed in several sequences that mean something to someone, yet differ in their effect.
What is beautiful to some is pain for another What is trash to one is another's treasure. What is a murder for one is redemption for another. Perceptions guide us everywhere. Through the Light that burns us and through the Darkness thats haunts us, it is our perception that makes us who we are.
Life is but a Reflection of our Perception.
And this reflection of life in the beauty if Art is what makes Art soulful. If you must refute that art is made without soul, then there is nothing wrong, for that is the way your soul perceives the reflections of every other soul that passes by.
Simply put, a lovely picture is only lovely if you believe it to be lovely. For others, it may be but a pathetic explosion of colours.
Reflect upon what you Perceive and watch how your Perceptions have Refections on your Soul.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

Dead Puppy

So, this is something that I really encountered in my life. I wrote this quite some time back. It isn't the most conventional thing that can invoke a creative piece of of anyone but hey, I'm not like everyone else. I don't know if you'll will get the essence of the poem but when you really think about it, maybe you'll reach closer to what I felt when I saw this cruel scene...

Today I saw a puppy die 
I saw its dead body
I don't know why
I saw it

I saw it dead
Flies buzzing
It was dead and stinking
I don't know why

I saw a dead puppy
So young
Barely a month old
I saw it dead

I don't know why
I saw it dead
A puppy lay dead
And then I understood why
Life is meaningless 

Thursday, 1 May 2014

Utilitarian Nugatory

Ever contemplated over the convulsions of a contorting whale that swims in the simmering serenity of the violent waves of an element so beyond the existential understandings of human psyche that the planetary alignments alter the affections and afflictions while vaporising the valiant viles of our repulsive refractory residual senses that are but a part of what we call the whole. Sensibility is but the legitimate tag stamped upon what is understood by the most shallow parts of a deathly abyss that is the mind of human vivisect. To understand the very psychological patterns that we as humans seem to exhibit, try and understand that whale that was once mentioned not so long ago but a few lines prior and you will be mesmerized how senselessly stupendous this all seems, yet your elitist ego will want to find meaning in this piece so bizarre yet so cluttered with random abrasions of thoughts and ideas that may or may not hold a riddle of the eternal truth that we all wish to find but never know where to start looking from. 

May Your Darkness guide you to Your Light!