Cast Away

I have lost them. Forever. Time has taken them away from me -- changed priorities, changed wants, changed importances. They are no more close enough to share warmth, or tears, or fears. They have all left -- leaving the darkness to me. I have been trying to cope up for some months. I have lost my bubble and froth. I have lost my laugh. I kept wondering what is amiss? What is wrong? Why is it incomplete when it shouldn't be? So many selves restrict a relationship, a bond or maybe none at all that existed. I  dont know what to think and how to cope. I loved them all so much. But then, love is naught, love is the shade of fire. 

I burn now. I am almost dead

Sexual Abuse of a Baby Boy

Once upon a time
there was an orange boy
who lived in a fruit basket.
He had beautiful orange skin
juicy flesh and a rotund happiness.
Then one day someone came along
and peeled him off.
He lost his orange skin and was bare.
Slowly he lost himself
One by one, bit by bit
His seeds were spurt across.
He lost his tender skin, his juice, his all.
An orange he was, an orange small.

POEM

Hurry hurry my love
Hurry to my arms
Fly away doth your hues
Fly away your charms
Life awaits none my maid
Life only awaits the end
Love love let me my honey
For I am your beloved fiend.
Eyes eyes over me baby
Eyes on my earthly face
Lips lips on you bunny
On your lovely grace
Be not so coy my hun
Be not so foully shy
For if thou shalt do so
Then, I will bid good bye.
I am essentially male my love
As male a male could be
Come and deck my heart my love
Let's build a memory!

Take my heart, my soul, my all
Take my feather shape
Feel my throbbing veins my man
Feel my cloudy nape.

No time for all that silk my hun,
No time for all the play.
Save time before we die
Give me a roll in the hay!

My man, my golden gilted man
My man of gift and gab
You know not what a woman wants
You are naught but a crab!

A lemon balm of love and want
An ensemble of pearly times
A man who would for me bring
The gold dust of ancient time.
I give him all, my bod my soul
For him my heart can crime.

Forget it lady, adios I say!
Farewell my senorita!
I want not all, your bod not soul
Give me just my platter!

Adios signoir, I wish you may
Wake up from your dream.
Life is all -- body and soul,
Love is but the cream!

The Vanishing Duck

To his Love

And you thought you know me well!

You would never know what's going in my mind
Right Now
You would never know that I wrote for you
Some times, at times, always.
You would never know that I loved sweetcorn soup
Not the chicken one you liked.
I love hot  spicy, I love white roses, I love sugar candy
You would never know, you have forgotten
Perhaps, must have ...
You would never know I used to wake nights
Waiting for the morning to come, you to come,
How I would day dream about you, fantasize
You would never know.
Neither would I.
It's all an old story now, a bleak past that we should
Forget
And let things blow down, as per norm, towards null.
You would never know how deep I loved you

But it doesn't matter now, dear.
You barely have ever known me as your own
Barely looked into my eyes and seen your image

Darling, how does it matter now?
Whether I loved you so madly then?
What matters now is,

I love the new lady whose photo you see on my bed
She is my goddess, my sin, my wine now
The adders run on my sheets
Yellow sunflowers shining on my sill


Ah, and you thought you know me at all!

A View To the World

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxseuREiuQA&feature=autoplay&list=PLE70C74165CD09B13&index=63&playnext=2



I loved Mexico!  :P  and ofcourse Turkey  :)  They sure know how to accomodate! 

A Letter in Dust

Leaves brown on a dusty path
Swirling in the twist of air
Dreams latched to every breath
Every drop of hope lay there

Silver lines disappear in silk
Creamy moonlight floats on milk
Dreams tomorrow on a child's hair
Every drop of hope lay there

Summer honey suck in gold
Flowers blossom leaves grow old
A lonely book on a rocking chair
Every drop of hope lay there

Garden elves and fairy songs
Wrongful rites and rightful wrongs
Life inside us burns to dare
Every drop of hope lies there

Fragrant Joys

The earliest joys of life lay in simple things like fragrances, touch and tastes. You would love the taste of your pencil or a toy or a bottle cap, a lemon or maybe a wax-stick and would blissfully chew or suck on it till your mom came running in screeching at the top of her lungs. You got scared and let it go. Then times changed, your tastes changed, from bubble gums to cigarettes to the flesh of your woman and other eatables, your tastes went higher and higher till you banged on a tumbler of whiskey and dropped out. But some old joys remain quintessentially the same. Well, it happened for me.
I was particularly attached to the fragrance of soaps from my earliest days. I still remember my white Johnson's Baby Soap bar, it had a soft fragrance and I particularly looked forward for a bath. I also had a green tub, I remember, where I used to be tucked in. Then there were all sorts of soap bars and I was addicted to the fragrance of soaps. I had collected many soap boxes and I used to smell them from time to time. Glycerin soaps were a wonder -- transparent soaps? O my God! Then with the years came the other solid joys. Fruit fragrances and citrus and rose-scented soaps, antiseptic soaps and the cologne scented ones. They used to be a soap called Lecance which had a pink oval foot shape and a peculiarly new smell. It was withdrawn from the market somehow. Supermarkets and departmental stores keep a huge collection of floral-scented soaps and I smell them there, I dont buy them. Lux has brought out so many different versions which all somehow vary between the dehydrating and anhydrous type. Nothing new except the pretty colours. A bath with a pleasant soap simply makes your day. Whenever I have had a bad day, I buy a new soap and go for a refreshing shower. Cools me down. I have been freaky too. I even tried using detergent soaps on my body, even the dishwashing soap. They were coarse on the skin, which went very dry and developed flakes, not to mention the aweful smell. I had to bathe all over again after the experimental bath. I even used shampoo as bath gel, doesnt help, except that  you feel slippery ;)
Talking of bath-gels, bath-salts, body-scrubs --- I dont like them. A soap is a soap, a tangible form of the beautiful fragrance that invades your nose and lets loose a horde of good-feelings, positive hormones and well, a pure delight. A tangible form is like a belief, a foundation of your well-being. I love soaps of all sizes and shapes. I especially dote on fruit-scented soaps and lemon soaps.
By the way, my father had discarded of all my soap boxes and didnt even pay heed to my .... never mind.

M F Hussain

A man -- scorched in the heat of controversies, an old man who has faced fire and never bowed down. He took exile since 2006 as he left India and lived away from the land of his art. M.F Hussain reminds one of W.B Yeats' famous line -- "An old man's eagle mind". The power that Hussain had in his imagination showed itself in his actions, decisions and his unbent attitude towards his actions shows the immense respect he had for his own paintings that brought him fire, rage and caused him to leave his land. What gave that man such confidence? He had been accused of insulting the Holy Gods of India. He had painting the deities naked and had painted sexual union with animals. What we must enquire is the nature of imagination of an artist. What we see as nakedness is not necessarily nakedness to an artist. Eroticism is an expression of creativity, of wild ecstasy as well as divine frenzy. while the deities symbolise the divine prowess, magic and endless probability, the sexual union shows raw creative power. Why then bring on the unnecessary points?
Hailed as the Picasso of India, Hussain's artistic technique is indeed similar to Picasso. But Hussain was intensely versatile. His style ranged from the Impressionist mode to the more disciplined styles of the European Art. Cubist techniques were employed in water colour which is quite laudable. The usage of the guache technique as well as usage of repoussoire in the Oil paintings which uses brilliant vibrant colors and experiments with dimensions are an artist's delight of creation. The light brush strokes as well as the perfect Chiaroscuro that reminds one of Rembrandt's art. While the bold yet adumbration of the contorversial figures have made him the horned satan to certain sect, M.F Hussain remains the man of unsurpassed glory in Modern Indian Painting.

while such paintings showcase the man's sheer artistic excllence the following had caused haywire in India.   

 Why should Lakshmi-Ganesh be not seen as expression of the Ardhanarishwar painted along the diaphragm?

 Why can the Devi, the spirit of creation can not be seen as the Coleridgean picture of the poet? if Kali's nakedness is the exuberance of her power, why should Saraswati's nakedness be sexual?

What is so impure about this picture of Parvati? Is it not an expression of artistic brilliance?

The concept of the Pasha-game and the Vastra-haran of Draupadi is painted so beautifully, so symbolic, and this is ignominy of Hinduism? Womanhood?

If Ram could leave Sita basedon the accusations of sexual relations with Ravan, isnt this picture a sign of the protest from an Indian bhakt?

India, along the lines of a woman's body, is perhaps the best representation of Bharat Mata. A mother's breast is celebrated, sign of nurturance and the woman's organ is the Janam-dwar. What does this show about the sectarian mentality of India? They eye their mother's body as an sexual object? A mother is as bhoggya as a mate?

Does MF Hussain require a Bharat Ratna now? He can only laugh. 

Cast a cold eye

On life, on death.

Horseman, pass by!

A thought

Breakers in the sea. Washing all the shores apart. Connections made in void. Some dreams that broke away. Silence that spoke in numerous words and words that failed. Where do we put our pains? Where do we hide our sorrows? Is it that easy to forget someone? Those people who had meant so much? Those who have let ypu alone? The green tops of high trees remain silent. Sway in the Mongolian breeze. How do you show someone that you dont care? Avoid them? Avoid eyes? Make a grimace? Make a hard face? Escape? Then chew on the fleeting image you have gathered in that past second? Tears forgotten. Lonely nights and sighs in the sun. It's not that easy to break away. Histories remain, somewhere. Love, friendships, pain ... who cares? Everyone.

Tomatoes

I give my first post to the beautiful gift of God -- tomatoes. God is very kind and merciful. That's why he made tomatoes. Tomatoes are a kind of fruit, red, juicy, sumptuous and so beautiful. Its redness gives me a high whenever I pass by some tomato baskets at a marketplace or departmental store. OOOOh tomatoes! How I love Tomatoes.
Solanum lycopersicum is its scientific name. Solanum reminds me of Solar or sun, the beautiful tomato-red sun on a beautiful naked morning and ofcourse lycopene is a good thing which saves you from cancer of various sorts. The better part is, on cooking the level of lycopene increases than in raw tomatoes or uncooked ones. Yes I do not like green tomatoes. Tomatoes are an ideal component for all kinds of dishes, savouries and all sorts of things except dessert.I should be dessert hunting with tomatoes on the dessert list next.
Ummm, can chutneys be considered as desserts? Gotta give that one a thought.
Tomatoes are native to South America. The Peru, Mexico zones. No wonder then that the Mexican dishes use a lot of tomatoes in their beautiful spicy dishes. The Spanish colonization of the Americas spread the Tomato-regime all over the world in due time.
Its not for nothing that I called tomatoes the gift of God. The Aztecs in southern Mexico were cultivating and consuming the beauty by 500 BC. They believed that those who witnessed the ingestion of tomato seeds were blessed with Godly powers. 
Taste drives people nuts. I am nuts about tomatoes too. I buy my chips in tomato flavour. My ideal lunch is incomplete without some salted and peppered pieces. And I use lots of them when I cook.
When I buy a dog someday, I will name him Tomato. Yeah, if you can call him Tom why not Tom-ato?

A No Beginning

Oops! I just opened a Blog. I have been reading a lot of them and now I have mine too. But what should I write of? I can hardly write. I know nothing. Then that's what I will write about. NOTHING!!! I have lots of nothings to say and nothings to float around in. Who will read them though? No one! so? That's a bit of nothing too sweetheart! This world is full of nothings! So here I embark on a nowhere journey from nowhere, with a bag full of nothing and loads and loads of nothingnesses to bear with. Infact the most difficult work in the world is doing nothing! Come on, dont gimme that frown, I did not say it. Rabindranath Tagore did. Blame him