November's Stain

The tranquil sea is red today,

Fade it shall to beautify another day,

A meaningless war you want to spark,

But defiant Gandhians shall melt your heart.

We shall meet your guns with outstretched arms,

Our hope and patience will counter till - your bullets have had their fill,

Same tomorrow you shall find a billion few,

Jaded and dazed but working anew,

Guns for guns is what you advocate,

Keyboards and books will be the path we take.

The candle will burn long after your judgment reruns,

Born again, maybe you will, in the family whose tears shall never chill,

A handkerchief you shall offer then,

Never knowing it’s because of you the tears fell,

The irony will never be lost to your Gods,

In the name of religion faith will be lost.

Dare you besmirch the name of the Mohammedan?

Or Hindu maybe, if that what yourselves call,

Don’t forget the Taj Mahal still,

From love it rose and love can never kill,

The Sufi Saints spit on your souls,

Do you have any, the error behold.

Go back to your turf, where hate lies,

And lies those scheming human demise,

Give them this message and say it clear-

The country of India knows not fear,

Integrity and peace is all we know,

And to fight terror new hands will grow,

The joke’s on you, can’t you see?

India the superpower shall oneday rescue thee.

Where To?

I. I start with ‘I’ because I think that that’s what blogs are for. It is a place where one can shoot one’s mouth off without caring. It’s like the shoreline or a top of a cliff, you don’t care if anyone listens or shouts back, but it’s a place where you can just scream your lungs out.

What is it that I would like to share with you, the reader? I have not one iota of idea. I don’t know if it shall be a personal (ahem) diary, a place of literature (many people coughing) or a place of “here’s the things I like from other people’s writing”. Maybe I shall write about myself, maybe about other people, maybe about social issues, maybe poems or songs even if the rhythm permits or maybe about art house stuff. The point is I don’t know. That’s the main thing I want to write about in this post. I have no damned idea. I like that. Meaningless babble or otherwise there are a few things u might expect, things that distinguish my writing - ‘style’ if I can venture forth that word!
1) Metaphors and the like – there’s one in the opening parah and boy will u find more.
2) My Pretence – something real or otherwise. Don’t try and separate truth from fiction, I seldom know myself.
3) Grammatical mistakes- aah well….
4) And yeah – you shall frequently find my mind stoned.

I hope to start a journey here, where it shall lead me I know not. Whether I shall continue with it, I know not. Maybe I will make friends at the end of it, maybe not. I know this, there is a riot in me, there are things that concern me, there are things that I care about, people that I love – I want to attempt to physically pen down my thoughts. Thoughts that are like wisps of smoke, I try and catch it and it vanishes. Dreams that I have trouble remembering – I shall try, it’s my struggle and if…..

A friend recently told me that it's a place that you escape to, a place where you find solace... Let's give this fairyland a try then....
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I want to run - I want to hide -I want to tear down the walls That hold me inside -I want to reach out And touch the flame -Where the streets have no name (Where the streets have no name, U2)