Drunken

The baby was crying, screaming it's little guts out. The father sat dizzy from the thirteenth peg he had just gulped down. He looked out to his wife, nowhere to be seen in the kitchen. He shouted out, adding to the baby's cries.

No Response.

More pegs were made, three bottles had fallen to this man's addiction. His wife seemed to have forgotten of his existence. But his hazed mind was far away from these troubles. His intoxication had reached a new level. After the twentieth peg, his insides gave up. The floor was in ruins.

After a terrible pain in his stomach, he rushed to the bathroom for unknown reasons. Maybe his mind was trained for these situations. He rushed and spilled his stomach out into the ceramic pot, not noticing his wife that hung from the kitchen fan.

After the third gag, he lay unconscious on the floor. The last thing he remembered was the horrifying silence.

The baby had ceased its crying.

Strange Ending

The wind gushed and the clouds roared. The weatherman said a storm was rising. If he did not reach home on time, he might never. His work had ended earlier; his boss was more paranoid than anyone else. However, his boss had a driver and a car waiting to serve his needs. His colleagues ran just like him, but their buses were frequent. His bus had a terrible frequency.

People were closing shop, others were hurrying home. The homeless tried to look for a tentative shelter. The animals were nowhere to be seen. Smart bitches, he thought. He looked around at the systematic chaos that presented itself. Religion had forgotten its enmity and rivals helped secure each other. Everyone seemed to be prepared, except him.

The road was emptier than before. Isolation seemed to be creeping in. He had to leave.

He decided that he would spend some extra bucks and travel by rickshaws. But as every Indian knows, these bastards never listen.

One rickshaw rushed away. He grew frantic. The skies began to wet the earth.

Another ignored his cries. He abused passionately.

A third said an unjustified no. He kicked the rickshaw as it sped away.

The fourth one's breaks failed.

The isolated road gathered pedestrians to help him, but he realised that the storm wouldn't be his bane. The people carried him to a shelter, an ambulance was called for. The driver of the rickshaw was beaten for his faults. The clouds roared and the rain had finally begun its heavy downpour.

He was convinced that his end would come. Either by the storm, or the accident.

Death had a strange way to find things. A mosquito landed on his wound.

Karma

"What is it honey?" he asked. He thought he'd heard his wife call out to him.

When no reply came, he thought it was nothing. Then it all crashed down on him. His house, his life, all engulfed by the flames inside his mind. Another migraine.

He fell down on the carpet and writhed in pain. The TV show host laughed at one of the gags and the recorded audiences giggled as well. 

Clutching his hair, almost ripping it off he rolled trying to understand why the pain felt different. That is when the crimson dripped down his cheek. He noticed the pool of red forming below his head. There had to be something wrong. How was this possible.

He looked up, and a silhouette stared back at him.

As she bent down, he saw the bruised face of his wife, eyes bloodshot. In her hands, she gripped a spade from their garden.

"HOW DARE YOU?" he screamed. If the neighbours ever found out, his name would be cast down. Their family would be in shame.

In reply, she kept staring at him. He had never seen her enraged. Every time she did something wrong, she would clam up and accept his beatings. That was the way society had raised them. Their parents did it, and their grandparents. But was it true? Or was it a delusion that only he lived in?

"I'm done!" she whispered, barely enough for him to understand.

A divorce was shunned upon in their society. His migraine worsened. And the moment he realised that the migraine was actually the hurt from the wound he had tried to ignore, the spade came crashing down on him.

One hit, his vision was hazy. Second and the pain worsened. Third, and his life flashed before him, numbing his senses. A Fourth and unable to bear the excruciating pain, he fell unconscious.

As life left his body, from the passage between life and death, he heard the faint laughter of victory.

His societal prisoner was finally free.

The bias against the Dark

Life and its various aspects do seem interesting. We try to figure out the many metaphors that can be fit into a frame of thought so that we can with ease reflect upon the beauty and complexity of life.

But does anyone talk of death?

Maybe the afterlife comes into the picture, but that too is the after-LIFE. Why can't we call it after-DEATH?

It's simple. People like to reflect upon the lighter aspects of light. The white is always preferred because white can be dirtied and stained with our prejudices and biases. Nobody sees the true colour that is black, kept pure and unaffected by the prejudices. In light, we see all the differences but in darkness, all is the same.

In life, we see so many metaphors, in death?

Why is it that we see death as disgusting? Why can't anyone see the beauty of death?

Maybe with a little more probing, our minds will some day accept that there is this concept that should be dealt with for it too deserves a better understanding. is it because of the people who use the darkness for wrong? Or is it a mere misunderstanding or misinterpretation of the dark? Do we realise that in either scenario, we are kept in the dark about the darkness that we think is so dark that we try to end the darkness with light? Words matter and their propagation matters the most.

Maybe it is this very bias of light and dark that my blog might not appeal to many. Understandable. I will keep hitting the keys on my laptop till the day they are heard by someone. Wonder how many people out there who have such unheard voices because of the technological darkness that prevails in our lives wish to be heard...

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Ixius... Coming soon...

It has once again been a while since I have written my last post. I don't have any excuses for it. I simply didn't want to. However, I was working on some other important stuff. I would rather not disclose everything that I was working on, however I may say this: It had been almost a year since I did something about my passion for films (making films that is). And finally, last Sunday, after a long vacation, Ixius Films finally shot its next short.

Again, this comes to my mind, why do I blog about all this?

Simple: because I love it.

Check out my films on any of the following links and well, I hope my next can outdo those.

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/IxiusFilms

YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/IxiusFilms

Well, I'm not a huge fan of Social Media but hey, sometimes you just have to keep yourself updated with the dying generation.

May Your Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Apocalypse Approaching....

About two weeks have passed.

Pressure and positivity seem to be in the lacking.

Oscillatory motions have begun to recede.

Convulsions and copulations are nothing but sins.

Anarchy is in the making.

Liars and cheaters rule our world.

Yes, it is the sad truth.

Probably this is the worst post yet.

Senseless, yet maybe something worthy.

End is near.

And yet we know it not.

People are dying.

Perfumed radiation.

Reactions are lethargic.

Obviousness is not that obvious.

And Swag meets Yolo for a date.

Common Sense is the most uncommon.

Hungover nights and memory imploding.

Improper life.

Never to be understood.

Good-bye fucktards.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Apocalyptic

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!

Strangulation

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.  

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. 

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 

Fear and other things....

What is it that keeps you up all night? What is it that kills the silence and destroys worlds in a matter of minutes? What is it that can seep into the darkest corners of your existential human mind and reap the benefits that were truly yours? What is it that hides under your bed and claws your back with icy bloodstained fingers, waiting for its next hunt?

Enough of questions. We all know what I'm talking about. It's fear.

FEAR!

It's not that big a word. But the enormity of it so sadly hyped and boosted that we all believe that it is a cruel monster. We name so many things that scare us, frighten us or limit us, restraining the demons inside us just because everyone believes that demons are to be feared and angels are to be good.

Who ever said that Angels are good and Demons are bad? Both are entities that supplement our soul. It is them that define us. They are not good or bad, it is only us that stamp them with tags of useless words. There are no Angels, there are no Demons, they are the same. It depends on what you see. Satan worshippers may say Satan is the good guy while most of us believe that God is the one to look up to. But what does an atheist say?

Don't give a rat's ass to any of these stupid annotations. There are only two things that you must seek in life. To nurture your love and to embrace your fear. There can never be any love without the fear of loss. There can never be fear without the love.

Duality is what drives our world. 

So choose your side. Don't take sides with another, just choose for yourselves and leave everyone else alone to worry about Demons and Angels.

It is not about Light vs Darkness, it is about Light and Darkness. Chose your side, or embrace them both. Do what will bring salvation to your lost soul.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

The Death of Death

Somewhere in the darkness there was,

A man so dead, a rotting corpse.

And with it were the maggots clean,

Feasting on the blood meat lean.

As time passed by the bones came out,

And all the whispers became a shout,

And Death came by with an evil grin,

To wipe the dead ones of their sin.

But the corpse so dead was missing now,

And no one knew of when and how,

So Death for search of it does go,

In the highest mountains and lowest low,

Till it found what it was to see,

The dying corpse of Death it be!

Existential

What is it that keeps us going on?

Is it the curiosity of the next moment?

Or is it the reward we have been dying to achieve?

The springing happiness or the end of sorrow,

The lively smiles of long dead ones!

What is it that makes us live in this orderly chaos?

What is it that we tread on in light when our goals lie in darkness?

Why must we live on terms of other people?

When we are the only ones who know ourselves the most!

What is it that is running in your head right now?

Is it about the Life we live?

Or is it about the Death we desire?

Indulgences

There is one thing that we all have in our lives, one thing that we all suffer through. Indulgence. We all indulge in various addictions, big or small, that cause us harm irreparable. Why must we do so? Is the high really that great? Is it worth the million tears that we will never see? Is it worth the suffering we impose on ourselves and our loving spectators who try so firmly to convince us to give up, but fail terribly?

To be true, we are masters of our own lives and we have the right to choose what is good and what is bad for us. But what can it be in that little cancer-stick that attracts such a big crowd of passive suicidal maniacs? Well, I cannot say for I have personally stayed away from these cravings, as much as I can. I won't lie that I haven't given in to these, but yes, I have managed to keep true to myself, not letting them take a hold of me. I have seen many and more fall prey to them. But there are those who are strong enough to refuse the prolonged torture they might have inflicted upon themselves.

Of course, this issue will keep going on for ages and eons to come. It is for you to decide what is right and what is wrong. Be it a mild sugar addiction to a heavy crack craving, it all needs to be kept under check. But this again, is subject to individual perception. Do what the right thing is, or fall deep into the lustful pit of torments. It is up to you. For yourself, and for anyone who you love.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light!

Demons

We all have demons inside of us. Demons that haunt our lively days, and lie eagerly under our beds for us to creep into their hazardous darkness. A darkness that we only see in our dreams as they, in their abstract and bizarre way, guide our epileptic subconscious from its Penrose stairs to its Belvedere. Children have these demons. From their childhood till their puberty, from their adulthood till their death beds, these demons will haunt you all for all that this physical life holds for you. But what are these Demons?
Wights?
Monsters?
Spirits?
Energies?
Whatever they be, they are a personal entity, a deity that only an individual can experience. So, shoo away, or embrace your demons, for they are mere parts of the Greater You. Who knows, what wonders these Dark things may have kept hidden under their cave under your bed?

For those who are unintentionally ignored....

With the backing of the truck you hear a radiant and disturbing noise. The reverse alarm that sends us wondering who even bothered to invent such a thing? But you know what? When you see an ignorant truck driver backing onto a poor little animal, say a dog, cat or maybe even their little ones, you'll understand what the alarm means to some. "Back off losers. Or I'm going to run you over." Be it an adult or a little kid, the smashing of the skull and the exposing of the entrails are nothing to the truck driver who probably won't understand his mistake, leaving behind a bloody wheel track for mourners and apathetic by standers to know of his route. But was his ignorance, intentional? Probably not. This is the very crux of the idea, to be taken for granted. The dead are taken for granted. The living are taken for granted. Be ignorant, or aware, you too will do it to someone. Just make sure that they don't own a truck, or any other means of murder. But don't worry. They probably won't even tell you about it. They love you too much. So the big question: is it Their fault, or Ours?

Whatever your answer is, it may or may not be right. There is only one answer. So do the 'Right' thing. Not what you feel is right. This post is for every person in my life who I have unintentionally ignored. It wasn't intentional. It is just a sick part of life. Maybe someday I will learn to manage it well. Maybe I too need some sort of a siren. For now, I just have this blog, trying to reach out to all the ignored ones. What will you do for your set? Keep thinking till I go live my life.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light

Celebrating Existence

Just my last post, I mentioned the first anniversary of my film ‘Désespoir’. Today, I’ll mention something even more intimate. Today I finish 20 revolutions around our lovely sun.

Well, this might seem like a ‘Hey its my Birthday. Give me attention!’ post, but its not. I had some thoughts that churned in my mind. As the day passed by, with the societal rituals being followed, candle, cake and gifts being happily consumed, I began to think of a more deeper issue. I had finished almost 20-25% of my life, assuming that I would live to be at least 80 in this disease trodden world. With that, I understood, I entered a new phase of life. One where things will, and I too should, get serious. A new Phase. A new Chapter.

So many have been born on this very same day. So many have died as well. But I spend the day in lovely companionship with my friends, not caring about any of that. And no matter how dark and black I may be on the inside, I cannot but help it. I love them all. They got me the best gifts ever. A tiny army knife, many books, and loads of other things. To be true, these material gains I received have terribly overwhelmed me with a great wave of happiness and joy.

And as these thoughts cross my mind, I believe that the coming year is when I will, and I definitely should, begin my steps, from walking to sprinting, towards my goal. This is the second time I have done the same type of post. But this one is mainly to thank my friends for their blessing good wishes and to pay gratitude to the Gods that may or may not exist, for all the good and bad that has happened. For I am what I am because of everything in the past.Today, I truly do celebrate. Not the anniversary of my birth, but I celebrate my very existence.

The Past be a Prequel,

The Present its Sequel,

While the Future, an announced production,

That has yet to be planned.

It cannot exist without the Present’s presence,

Which in turn is nothing without the Past’s existence.

Life is a cyclic force, living with rules of causality.

It is our Dharma, it is our Karma,

To be what we must,

And to seek what we are,

for better or worse,

Through the Darkness, that envelopes us,

To the light we all seek,

But you mustn’t look for light,

Instead, embrace the darkness,

For Life is exactly that,

A meaningless concept,

That is full of Abstracts.

A Year Later...

Time so flies, like dust and its grain,

All seems meaningless, yet nothing goes in vain.

Exactly on this day, one year ago, I did something very close to my heart. I uploaded my first film on YouTube. Titled ‘Désespoir’, the film was our most ambitious and probably our best piece of work in the whole of last year. As I sat today at Cutting Chai, watching several films in their film events, I realised the fact that an entire year had passed since I had done something so fulfilling. One year and five films later, Ixius Films, our production house, was standing idle, waiting for it’s next project to come by. And today, it struck me what I wanted. The films I saw at the festival, that wasn’t what I wanted to do. I could not picture myself making any of those films, and even if I was, the film would turn out to be very different that what I saw. Something was amiss.

A year ago, I was naive, going through an existential crisis, just overcoming it by the turn of the year. Last year began with a great surge of positive energy. I did so many things. But had I moved away from my own path towards something just flashy and appealing? No, what I find appealing is very different from what mainstream and hipster culture features. I don’t like to see what stupidity the masses worship. Neither do I want to do something corporate like the very education that I have been unwillingly pursuing. No, I want to spread ideas, emotions and evoke harmonious horror into peoples’ lives. Not being sadistic, but I have a different perception of things that can get people to think, to explore ideas in an unconventional way. Then what went wrong?

Nothing went wrong. Sometimes you need to go through a dark tunnel to understand that the light you live in is actually a precious gift. So think twice before you blow it up with your ignorant godforsaken soulless endeavours. I cannot explain the purpose in life for our lives to be true are meaningless. And maybe that is the pursuit of life, to find meaning in that which seems meaningless. To fill the void that you have yourself created for your own sake. Live for whatever time you must and do so, without once diverging from thy path. And if the divergence is needed, well, it is but an experience you need, for it is important for you to grow and evolve into what you must be before you depart for a place much larger and higher than our own.

And so, with such not-so-dark thoughts, I begin this blog. I always wanted to do so. This is my step forward into doing what I have always dreamed of. This blog has no meaning, and yet is full of it. Understand and it is good. Don’t understand and well, it matters not. For now, I must say, to whoever bothers to read this, ‘Death is the Ultimate goal  of Life. So Die, but only after you have done Justice to your Life’.

May the Darkness guide you to Your Light