Living in the 21st century, while being its tiny point like a still moment stuck in time, I often wondered about a world free from what my fellow men (and their women) created all this while, living in the entire existence for as long as we, humans, have existed on this planet.

This search has always been the focal point for many, true, again like etched in their own respective points, the spawn-focal centre of all what they call life. For them and for me, life only is whatever I experience of it. I am the creator of my own life, just like all these people are (I really do not know if they’re ‘alive’).

Countless hours have been spent in search for an alien world, perhaps the occupants of which will make us realise the grand reality after all! Scientists and top dollar machines are out there, searching for their own little worlds. In our ‘home’, this Earth of ours, artists dwell too. They’re searching for something; Some random moment of clarity, an unknown experience, waiting to be unfolded by them. They’re the observers.

While I sat and wondered about these little specks of dusts, strands of cobwebs floating about in air because someone’s lost their home, something happened. I was searching for a place perhaps, that space where I can finally spread my arms wide open and quite literally, fly; there I was – before I could realise what happened, there opened a wormhole with just a tiny bit of light managing to escape through it. Just bright enough to make me realise of its presence, perhaps questioning me, challenging me and asking me “Do you dare?”, yet with lips sealed but fostering a glistering smile.

Little did the light realise for those without nothing, even the tiniest of hopes is a great prospect; One that saves lives.

I was there, in a new world. Almost alien, yet so much like home. Home- Is this finally the reality with all its filters dropped away, or a world which I perhaps originally belonged to, much like Kal-El’s?

Darkest of the bluest of skies, I wanted to fly. In an instant, they embraced me and opened up their chests.
“Fly, this is your home, you’ve been away for a long time, but you’re home.”

Free willing and curious, I banked and turned, climbed and looped, descended into a spiral and finally came back to the assurance of a soft ground to lay upon; So much to grasp, I zoned out and surrendered. The fresh air fed me, kept me full. Fresh fruits and so much food! “You’ll never again be hungry.”

An alien world can scare a lot of us. But is it the world which scared me or was it my own assumptions, imaginations, perceptions of ifs and whats and of wants and of want nots? The uncertainties of how things fold are dangerous parasites. “What if it kills me?”

I can never know. No one can, for that matter. Unless the present gets all its undue credit, things will never pan out the way we ‘expect’ they would; And where’s the fun in that? As I relished this freedom, this space I called home, the magic of which defeats the most glorious of books ever written and movies ever made; evolves. This place grows. And I must too. Acclimatizing to the new world through skills learnt from before, I will evolve.

There’s an order to chaos; the entropy always increases. It grows. I sit here in a hope that light shines on these focal points, and they finally see what they secretly have always wished for – An alien world, much like their home, maybe better at times. The place where they actually find themselves, etched upon everything images of them in all their glory.

“Everyone deserves their beliefs to get materialised, be made real. Even if it involves aliens and their standing up to their own nightmares.”

(For more posts like this, visit: Waiting Room)


Why your ‘love’ failed. No, seriously!

Life, Love

“I love you, and I always will”

Funny how these three little words have always either been the backbone and the foundation stone for many stories or they’ve just been the laughing stock of millions of us. It’s true, how the notions of love have the power to influence a few. Yet this influence can enhance or destroy our beliefs in a second. Light up the sky or darken up the colours. But filters of reality, theories, studies, statistics and subjugation of nothing but distraught clarity only affect us for the worse; Unless someone comes along, someone who starts defining everything you’ve ever created for the better, like a patronus charm used on the death eaters, these beliefs mixed up with the ‘wonders’ of our ego just lift us up and put us in the gutter.
Failed relationships. ‘Love hurts, it just has to!’, ‘Love causes only pain’, “Oh don’t waste your time, just have fun and chill”, “Don’t be so serious, we’re only having fun”; Words like these and sentences strung around and woven with lust and flutter –

Does that remind of anything? A broken record maybe? A plastic piece of junk, the disposed crumbled Styrofoam cup, that puddle of muck and such a world which’s stuck in a limbo. And the shit just keeps hitting you in your face until you finally either realise this isn’t really love, or begin questioning love itself, the word whose meaning your f*cked up piece of sh*t mind can’t just get right in its true meaning.

Yes, I’m talking about each and everyone of us here. We’ve been all there, yes. Stuck with wrong a*s people, together sh*tting on each and every thing that gets ‘thrown’ in our ways. It’s simply like this – Neither you, nor your ‘partner’ ever grasped what it really means to love. Does it pinch you? Oh you poor baby. F*cker. Slap yourself out of it before you not only will continue swimming in your own pile of miserable experiences, dying a suffocating death where even a wee bit air will seem like Nirvana.

Instead, all what you do all this while is build up notions and beliefs; based on the absolute horror of a guide which is our ego. You say it’s our personality.It’s ‘who you are’. Listen to me, you’re nothing but bullf*ckingsh*ting yourself.

What else has this peculiar though depressed a thought process to live your ‘life’ has ever brought you? Heart breaks? Betrayals? Oh she cheated on you. Well la di f*cking da.
Have you ever wondered instead of looking out for answers for what she did and what you did because of what she did to you, a very interesting (for the creative kinds of you) way of going about it would be to think(only because as jobless f*cktards as we are, who just love sitting and thnking all day) “What did I do to myself to go through an experience this macabre?” Only thing which comes to an average mind (yes, we all have been there, most of us still are) is another creation, another deathly foundation to more misery; Wrong belief system about relationships and love itself.

It’s the same thing with everyone to be honest. Every relationship, hook-up, affair, ‘thing’ which begins, beings on happiness. Everyone is happy. But soon, you begin tumbling down. Thing is, your life’s been so miserable without this one person that the happiness you get out of realising about them, being with them is alien to you. And you’re terrible as f*ck at even grasping this single fact. You’re just not capable enough to take up this energy upon you, and you crumble. You succumb to ‘darkness’, to misery. May is it love then, and simply put, you’re just not worthy of being able to hold it and hold yourself to be able to stand up under such immense enlightenment.

Until they all began going out with you and you called yourself a ‘thing’, were you not alright about each and every thing about them then? Everything was fine, and you ran after them. Chased them because you still wanted to be them. Until the moment arrives when you two become a couple.
And then, begins the rounds of ego bouts. ‘Let’s hit each other with all the force, all our ego and see who wins’. I hate competitions. It f*cks up the foundation of the thought how every one is equal and all are One.
Anyway, you pile up and throw sh*t at each other. Put your beliefs upon them. Force them, choke them and deep throat them. And then, you get bored. Why? Because they’re just not listening to you and doing as you like? Like? Hahaha! (What are we smoking seriously?)

Your likes matter, but to yourself. Which is why they are YOUR likes. It does not matter if they like the same school of thought. They’re not OBLIGED to you.
Oh and by the way, all this while mind you, you think and you’re so sure, so sure that you keep saying the same thing over and over again: “I love you”.

No. You don’t.

Love means surrender. You pick everything up that you have, wrap it around in a bubble wrap, and just hand it over to your partner. If you can’t do that and are not ready for it, or simply are just insecure and need a back up, an escape route, emergency exit, you’re NOT in love. Simple as that.
When you surrender, the forces protect you, because these forces in material form, in flesh and bones, are you! So basically, all this while, you’re keeping yourself protected by surrendering yourself. Whom do you surrender to, and why? Good question. Simply because the person in front of you is nothing you yourself. (Remember how everyone always ends up saying we all are the same, and then we go home and take a sh*t and flush every good thing that you just came home eating after?)
Love, then simply put,is everything that there is. Likes, dislikes, hurt, happiness, everything is self created. Whereas love, it just is. Perhaps an act where you are so kind and truthful to yourself that you don’t let even your own actions get the better of you and you protect yourself. When you do that, you only attract what you really are – Love itself! And when you come across someone who understands it, you don’t feel they’re anyone else. They’re just the exact replica of you. And you push towards more love, in all its truest forms!

Which is why there’s growth. You grow, and so does your partner. There’s a flow; remember how you just surrendered to this flow? If the flow stops, stagnation, boredom occurs. Doubts, misunderstandings, growth of ego takes place. It’s a dynamic thing, just like how galaxies evolve, we take birth and die, just how the time keeps passing by. Love, in itself, simply grows. Anything short, well my innocent ones, it’s just a dirty stinky lie.

The old leather jacket.


The roots stretch out, after being cut over and over again, ever succeeding in reminding the world about how futile it is to resist and perhaps to give in. The forces of the universes govern in such a fashion that every permutation, every combination, those random events which we shrug off and all of those things which put us to one simple question: Do we believe in magic?

I’ve always believed there’s some element that we all over look, no matter how hard we try to see. This element, entity, force, thought, belief, call it whatever you want to; It is hidden in the moment when a single drop of sweat traces the back of your neck as you get nervous, the light in your eyes when you see a loved one and all the goosebumps associated with it. How can we see it? Certainly an experience it is then, yes? Or perhaps the very fabric which this world is made up of, and we, material beings, look under our shiny microscopes and through our highly advanced telescopes,  trying to find it. Does it not bring you to a laughter when you realise it just cannot be something physical?

It’s the innocence in children’s eyes, and that girl who you just walked past by. It’s in us, and oh how dormant it stays unless we simply start believing in its existence. Look at her, as she smiles at me, after countless days spent reading her words, trying to find my own existence in them. And how beautifully they all fit, like a physics’ definition; every word having a meaning, an existence, a need for it to be there. It all fits. She’s still smiling, as I continue being that insane nut, hoping again how she’ll summon up all the magical words she always is searching for, and put up a pretty story to this very moment. She’s still smiling at me, mind you. There are forces at work here, magnetic, dark matter floating through this space, working about its own magic and creating the world as it passes by. They tell you the story, and like the perfect handwriting to mesmerise the reader’s experience, her smile fills up the world around me, and that’s it. Everything, right there. The past, human existence, dinosaurs, the bloody milky way; They’re all here, and you’re aware. That fucking smile assures, like that hand on your shoulder, like the air traffic controller’s voice in a distress situation for the flight crew. (That makes me wonder about MH370 somehow, fuck it)

We all have those notions, things we’ve always wanted to do. That inkling feeling of something new to do. We hold that wish tight, and unless we find it, we rarely give up. For these ideas, thoughts define us. They’ve made us what we are. Made me what I am, right now. And yet, falling on the tips of the pine leaves how the rain drops find a perfect place, it all fucking fits! This universe has been moving, doing its own magic. We, walking on the ground, stuck onto it, lost in our useless chores, always doing things and running around, never realise it. What we see, is pictures. In a world fucked up with selfies, still moments, we’ve all lost the sense how everything is always moving. They’re making and creating the world for us while we merely witness the change. And foolishly, like drunken buffoons, think we’re the ones responsible. Of course we are, but through our actions. It in no way should stop us and make us limit our awareness to the mess around, and instead, stop and simply look up at the sky. Lose ourselves in its grandeur and its own magic. It only will come before you, if you are looking for it, that too, with all the belief. No room for doubts and back ups, here. There’s no “But what if we’re wrong?” You have one job. One fucking job. And it is to have a belief system, and to stick to it with no doubts whatsoever. In a place of doubts, fear arises. And once that happens, it plagues and kills.

Why can a simple smile not have the magic about it that it can’t fix up things?

All these thoughts and a billions of lifetimes later, one does eventually realises and just ‘gets’ it. So don’t worry, if not now, maybe a few cycles of life and death later, we all will too. This world, this universe, works on magic. Hold this thought, I said to myself. Hold it dear, nestled tightly upon your chest, clenched between your arms, embraced right next to your heart. Hold this thought. And what do I see? This Universe works for me! I am creating my world as I go on, and simply laid upon this simple thought, everything simply works for me, and I sit back and enjoy as it unfolds upon me. The universe this way, through me, is learning a very tiny aspect of its own creation. It’s learning itself. Like those permutations, I am one. And so are you. Maybe someday this universe, she’ll smile down upon you too. And assure you, that it just all fits.



Before we begin this ride, grasp your belts. Be ready for failure still, for this ride is better experienced than read in miserable words, another failed human attempt to express themselves in the truest forms. All the Shakespeares and Tolstoys, their written wonders or just tales of spoken joys, none of the created illusions of an experienced soul can ever be laid down in words, take any langauge at that. And if you’re still persistent, be my forever welcomed guest.
As my beloved Pink Floyd plays in the background and sings songs about rebirths and a brand new day, this is really about beginnings. Changes. The ever succumbed wounds to which souls have even perished, and how they have found their place in this spectacular galactic staged drama known as this life. They’ve been here, where I stand today. And oh just years of yearning it builds its foundations upon, the glorious present which if you’re careful, in all its honest forms has always been here. Yet look back and you see the days dreamt away in afternoon naps and awakened nights. Full of horror and plights. Centuries of unawakened trust and milleniums of foul cries, all beyond and gone, I stand here now telling you that this place still is only as beautiful as you want to see it. We build our own nightmares.
In a missed heart beat that can forever clear your doubts about what lies beyond this point in time, your life can disappear forever too. Why not make of what you’ve got now? Lost in the tiny seconds that tick away while you’re busy noticing how ugly someone looks, lies the reality that basically sweeps you off by your feet that you fall flat faced on the floor, bleed and die. All the pain you burdened yourself with, experiences haunting you like bullets forever stuck inside you, disappears and you’re born again. Phoenix reminds you how that’s what you’re destined for, and you find your muse. You appreciate its presence, see the shiniest of lights. They take you home, while the trance that is this very creation of things material and beyond matter alike sways you away and you flow with it. The synchronized motions of limbs, the movements of the very atoms that make up air, all being controlled by a divine presence that aids all of the time and space. Divine, because it is flawless. Beyond measures of body, mind and matter, governed by forces that surround us and are the clockworkers playing with us jewels.
Trance continues. You’re lost. Yet aware of each breath that you take. This surely is love, and it’s divine. You see the stars, and they tell you tales. You hear them at nights, when with empty hearts and unfulfilled desires the yearning exposes itself onto you. Yet you smile, because you know all what exists, ever has and forever will continue to, is all here. And like jumpers between the planes of existence, you make the jump, and decide where you want to be. The senses deceive and like puppets, without a heart and a soul, dancing to the cacophony that surrounds, unaware and morbid, existed I have. Time and its continuum ever so gliding ahead, breaking the very laws within which we restrict ourselves, answered echoes of a calling I have. The joy within us which we live on our lives by without being aware of stays dormant and dead unless you break the laws. There lies a world beyond the one which we are so used to, a world full of love and no greed. Only truths, acceptances, yet heartbreaks over come by only the sense of love, the love which hides within us, a world so beautiful that you weep for hours. And yet the embrace, warmest of the geysers emerging from the very bosoms of the planet which we otherwise consider dead and a thing.
Within these embraces lies a land of hope, utter peace and the truest of homes.


Awakening, Life

“Follow me down to the valley below
You know, the moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul”

As I sit here, in an absolute admiration, unerring awe of every moment that passes me by, all I feel is this undiluted, unmitigated love for you. Because its in you that I see myself. All my fears. All my worries. All my laughters, tears, falls, victories, achievements and each and every moment that I’ve sat here, bewildered if there’s an end to this seemingly endless sorrow that plagues our world. It’s in you that I find the courage to carry on. Hope. And dream. You after all, the very construct of my world. The world as I see it, experience it in each breath that I take. Each wrong turn that I make. Every summer when I sweat and every winter when I shed my old skin and take rebirth. Rejoice. It’s my world after all.

The very strain of this world is embedded with this very love that I speak so highly of. I’ve experienced it. I’ve wanted to express it, when I saw you curl up into a ball and cry. When you sit by the window and watch the world go by. In every heart break that you put through, in every grain of sand that moulds you. Those long, empty hearted walks on a dark, cold, november night, When your walk had been too long and the sun shone above your head, lambent up high. The rainy nights when you’ve achhoo’d, in every judgment you mistook. I’ve been there. Witnessing it, watching my self unfold through you. I love you. I always have. We share the same fate, do we not? We’ve materialised our souls into this world, at the same time, to work together for our growth. To rescue ourselves. From ourselves. Through our very selves. It’s why we’re here. In this very time. Together, existing, getting reborn in every second. Because all what’s there in this world, in this universe and in this very physical, material creation, is this very moment.

There IS no past. There’s no future. It’s all but a construct of our minds, the way we’ve perceived our experiences, how we’ve understood them. And how we can expect them to be like, depending on our very actions. It’s nothing in there but pain and misery, because our actions themselves haven’t been up to the mark. Do you feel the guilt? You see the moments you’ve lied flash before you. Times when you’ve stolen something. The truth, from someone. Love, too. When you haven’t shared how much pain you’re in, how you wanted the time to just pass by. When your dreams ceased to materialise. Cried, a lot, haven’t you? It’s funny how we all share similar themed events which just take place in different times in our lives. Because in all these parts we’ve lived within each other. Experienced the world in the same way, however briefly. Because it’s our world that we share after all. Why must it all yet be different in the end? We weren’t born at the same time. Neither will we die. But these moments, which have faith in our souls, recreate us, give birth to us and reassure us in a peculiar way, that it all seems very comforting; That we’re here now. And we must work together. Embody each other, engulf in an eternal, just, endless, truthful, faithful love. Ever so working for each other, through each other because we MUST realise that all these moments have put faith in us, that we’d work exactly the way it all does. Through these forces that are beyond our comprehension, forces that give us courage, faith and an everlasting sense of happiness when we work for each other.

Sit, one day, at notice someone in an endless pain. Look at Mrs. Drudgers. Her husband’s left her. Her kid gets bullied at school and the teachers don’t help either. Her sister’s married to a hotelier in Hawaii, and hasn’t called ever since she got married. The employers don’t pay enough to live through a winter without having the heater bills over due three times. Observe how she sits at the fireplace which hasn’t been lit since forever, staring blankly at the charred, broken tiles at the back and wonder how her life’s turned out the same way. Wouldn’t you want to just hug her and hold her hand, reassuring how you’re here now? Let’s walk a bit. Let’s breathe. But wait. Here’s little Tim. He’s 13. He hasn’t seen his dad. Ever. His little brother can barely talk. His mother, Mrs. Bates, slogs 10 hours at a cloth factory to barely provide her kids 5 days’ meal. Her husband went out to get milk one night and never returned. They learnt he was stabbed 18 times that night. But Tim, he’s a strong lad. He comforts her mother, he sees and connects with the same pain. He bites his lips so hard sometimes that they bleed, for he mustn’t shed a tear. He’s strong, he knows. He likes to read though. But he’s just one book. Never has he had enough money to buy one. He gets his pocket money though, yet he puts it in his piggy bank, to save for his brother’s treatment. He sits in the playground at school, near the cherry tree, while the other kids play football. He sits, he cries. Here he can, no one’s watching him.

You relate to these events. It makes you wonder of all what seems like injustice in this world. But would you rather sit and continue to wonder without arriving anywhere, or get up and take little Tim to his favourite football club’s match and buy him ice cream? It’s in our very nature to love, because we connect. We’re here, bridged and sewn together in every tiny second, being mere puppets, dancing to the tunes of the very source that governs us, governs all eternity. You and I are the same thought, idea, just expressed in different ways. In order to be perfect, everything must cater to the better resolve of this very creation, every deed done in harmonious way. Through love. Through its own self. Why must we be any different? Well, we can. But then we’ll perish, like everything that has failed to understand this very thought. It is this perishing force which allows our egos to act instead let our very core soul take control. It is then we begin focusing on the outcomes instead of the very force which creates. We lose sight of our actions, we hurt each other. Individualise. Don’t let your ego take a hold of you. It’s not your true nature, which is of eternal and unbound love and acceptance of each other. It’s this acceptance of each other which contributes towards, and enhances this pious grand scheme. After all, through this very oneness do we Evolve. And isn’t evolution the very way everything works? The very world that we share evolves in every breath of ours. It would cease to exist the moment there’s no exhale to your inhale. Love, would you rather not then? Be mesmerised, and yet constantly materialise into a better being, experience this love through the act of loving itself? It’s a beautiful world that we’ve got, only love feeds its soul. Let it Evolve.