Zero-Tolerance-To-Venomous-Talks

Zero-Tolerance-To-Venomous-Talks—

Raise your hand people, who all hate Poison-Dipped-Heart-Searing-Taunts. Good heavens! I’m the first to raise my hand, the highest, cause if you ever ask me the ONLY THING I really hate, it’s definitely Taunting, making it very clear that I myself don’t do the same in return.

To bring the required lucidity to their pseudo-facts regarding my take on it, let me elucidate, neither I’m the ‘Aladdin Ka Chiraag’, to which they can willingly keep rubbing their tartness. For they wouldn’t gain anything from it, in fact, it might bring into play the risk of waking up the ‘Genie’ contained, and trust me, it’s not that goody-goody, and won’t ask for their three wishes, instead might end up turning them, and their ego into ashes, or rather coal, for the sake of the only chance of them being useful to the humanity in any damn way. Nor am I that stoic piece of furniture that would bear their snobby banging every time they pass by, rather a finicky  cushion-with-springs that would bounce back into their snorting face, and blow it off.

Still, every time they vomit their sourness, leaving me baffled, as to question the place they were born and brought up. Do the farmers there, use too much of pesticide in the crop, that they end up feeding poison to the natives. I sense consensus.

Anyways, what has been done is now done, but it doesn’t mean at all that they should continue with this fatal issue in their system. I got a piece of advice…Eat chocolates! That not only shall sooth their Venom-Soaked-Ego and Narcissistic disorder, but MIGHT sweeten their tongue too, hopefully!

Concerning the matter, I’m being generally questioned upon, and sneered at is—Am I comfortable in my skin? Oh yes! I'm…I don't need the feel, or feel the need of changing myself, et al, even if I dress in the rugs made of pesky, snobby, loner, and immensely introvert fiber...Me-With-Me, with a do-not-disturb note on the door, is my paradise...Wish to get an aroma of my world?…Come! Sit with me under the roof of silence, hold the cup of patience in your mystified fingers, and drink my thoughts, at your will!

 PS—I'm not poisonous, hence you shall return alive <3

Make Them Count

Something so vital, so decisive, taken often for-granted. Definitely a grant it is, from your parents—from a mother, who carried her heavy-sweltering-self through nine difficult months, from a father, who’d never missed a single sleepless night despite of having a sure shot toilsome morning. What is that grant? It’s the breath, the same breath which you were granted long back, while you were resting in your mothers' womb. The same breath you hardly give importance to, not as much as you give to the piece of land, or bank balance, you have inherited from your father, or grandfather- a grant as well, isn’t it?

Don’t know how many times I’d breathed in and out, while I write here, though I’m writing about the same. Easily coming gifts are never treasured. An irony, isn’t it? We mock the greatest gift, while being too much fussy about loving the other mundane gifts, for instance, high speed bikes, furious cars, cigarette, beer, dirty flings, sex, all these things, and more, drive you crazy. While you’re chasing a sucking job, a hot girlfriend, and an elite life, the only thing neglected is, nonetheless, your breaths.

I often come across posts like- Moms' love Vs. Girlfriends' love—Whom do you love the most and who loves you back MORE…They freak me out, and irritate me as if burning in hell is far better, rather than reading such posts. On no ground can one compare the love of a mother to a Girlfriends'. Mothers’ love is selfless, pure and to-remain-till-last-breath kind of, and a Girlfriends’ is more of a passionate, intense and live-to-love type. No doubt, you give preference to the later. Won’t blame you for that, love makes you forget the world, and parents counts amongst the same. But, when you’re willing to sacrifice your breaths for your Girlfriend aka passion, think once of the owner of the same. Yes, they own it, because they're the ones who'd gifted it to you, your parents.

Love is profound with whimsical effects on your sub-conscious mind, but don’t ever let it over rule you. Keep a track on your life, judging the direction you’re actually moving in. Traversing from this world to that is quite easy—Few drops of  poison, a rope, a knife or a railway track, anything would do the honor, and trust me, without any guilt, cause it’s you who is losing something precious, they’re just being a means to it. Hence, know the worth of it, before loss teaches you the same. Sure, we can’t count our breaths, but can make them count, isn’t it?

*** Neither I’m watching any irritating Godly channel these days (Trust me, I hate them as much as you do), nor do I really love to preach. Noticed something, and felt like sharing my views on it. Hope, it makes a difference to a few, the intended ones.

Wish Love Was Asleep

Wish Love Was Asleep

From amongst the many scattered shards,

You throne me moon—chosen from stars

Dream-spell wasted—was it even worth?

You never knew, but I'd belong to dearth

You made me ‘that’, and you made me ‘those’

Oh, why you hold me special—why so close

Never did they whisper the touch—the feel

Plucking the smiles—making the joy kneel

None did delve into, to unearth the hidden

Sneak-a-peek into heart—read the forbidden

You held my hand, and glanced into my soul

To comprehend my silence—decipher it whole

Alas, could I have told the depths—dark 'n deep

Only to hold you back, till, love is in sweet sleep

Fancy Killing

Pretense preserved—

Swanking recouped—

Silence pervades—Words suicide

Mass of dumb-boorish-egocentric-shit

Does your soul carry the ear to hear?

Breathing in the sloshing vain rhythm

Feet stomp at the fake tunes of past

Yearning to stuff your uncouth mouth,

Benign-words-dipped a piece of paper

Suffocate the void gasping of stale air

Sapped lungs emote your somber head

When your fidgeting arms drop dead

I shall—

Slit the icy-blue skin open,

To delve into your heart

To find you alive then,

Its’ a bewitched start…

Cracked-Rusted-Faded

The crack in my Vision

Saw its half burned face

A snap of my faded eyes?

Or, a fissure in tainted glass

It was there, and

Then it was gone

It would have sworn

On my dull thoughts

Dry Whisper echoed

As if it never existed

And, hummed sharp—

“All is now wasted”

Holding my hand loosely

Drew shapes on my palm

It gave me tingling then,

And now I set to qualm

Still have my open hands

Fingers warped to hold,

The invisible—the intangible 

Evening winds flowing past the town

Mourn the bent hooves of rusted gate

Gate guarding the stained glass walls

Friend, then lover and now a stranger

Carrying a fragile foliage of questions

What, when, where, whom—Oh, Alas! 

Yes, an Ode to You...

Here, embrace this little gold-key

Clutch it close to set my heart free

A key you always need to keep safe,

And turn at the motion of love-wave

I trust you with the treasure of my life

At your feet, breathing love to thrive—

Oh, ensnared girl, I'm a locksmith,

Keeper of all hearts, ruling the zenith

Sparkling keys crawling underneath,

Kissing, and bowing at my dark feet

Glare of my eyes can keep them still

Twist and turn, at the wink of my will

Direction that suits my mighty mood

As the time wings by, keys turn crude

Junk that I don't keep to ruin my castle

Rusted Iron-keys, a triumph too facile

Things of no use are better off to trash

Ticking clock knocks to offer afresh…

Excerpt from something called 'SOMETHING'

“I'm trying my limits, and thinking, how deep should I go without letting you know”

“You can go any length, till you don't drown yourself”

“I won't drown myself, because I'm familiar with it, may be a little less for now, but soon shall touch those damp darkened corners”

“Help yourself, they won't bite, the only thing I can assure you of”

“And, what if I drown?”

“You won't, if you trust me…”

“And, what if I really want to?”

“It isn’t worth drowning--not et al”

“Huh, you bet—Sweetheart?”

“You see the chasm…so do I…It can smell our fear--fear of loosing the grip, and falling into it, for ever”

“Does falling hurts?”

“It does, if you can’t resist the charm of it and plunge yourself deeper into the pain”

“I would love to taste it, the pain”

“Don’t lie, I see it in your eyes…you are afraid of something, may be”

“May be?—this is how you define Ambiguity”

“I would rather call it ‘Inhibition’”

“Call it anything, that wouldn’t change the extent of my longing”

“What is that I see in your eyes then? If not the fear”

“Of course it is fear”

“Fear of?”

“Not knowing you—losing you—forever—sweetheart”

“Oh, I love the way you play with your words”

“I love you too”

“Pardon?”

“What—oh, did I say ‘you’, whoopsie...I meant ‘yours too’”

“Mine?”

“Yes, you play with your words better than anyone I have ever known”

“On that note, I got something for you…want to hear?”

“Of course sweetheart”

“Here it is—Ransacking my clear-as-water thoughts, however deep you dive...swimming through the tides of my mood might seem easy and fun-to-do for now but, what if I tell you...Dear…the depth you fathom is still too shallow!”

“Oh my, I love it…I got something for you too…see if you can comprehend it, my love”

“Bring it on, and save ‘Love’ for later”

“I can, surely. Here it is—A hurried tryst of lips, burning in melting desire, exploring anything and everything coming in the way… to taste the heaven in each others warmth, the honey of passion, dripping and folded into much love and lust....a moment when they become one, to leap the physical boundaries...when the rest of their body is crying in sublime pain, pain of ecstasy that drives the urge to shun their rugs and let the velvet rub against each other...the moment when they wish to dive into each other’s depth to grab the most beautiful feeling, to jump into the chasm to catch the bliss of touching the stars on the seventh heaven ...to dissolve into each other’s arm…till eternity…”

“You’re impossible!”

“Come-on, call it what?”

“Jerk!”

“I call it a ‘Kiss’—Sweetheart”

***Sadia***

~ Yes, now I vision … ~

~ Yes, now I vision … ~

“I love your Almond shaped eyes,

Hazel of it rebounds the sunshine”

He said the words for the sixth time

Shunning the dull skeptic thoughts,

It again curved my lips into a smile ..

How guileless are his loving ways

Manifesting a bemused reflection

“Should I give my love-luck a try?

Falling for his words worth a shot?’’

He wouldn’t mirror the image of those,

Who, once called me their eternal muse

I’d breathe it much an incessant time

Betrayal doomed, trust took to slime ..

He wouldn’t parade his biceps or sedan

Dear clock ticks-tocks holding my hand

Sweeping away the nip, memory thresh

Oh, yeah —

His eyes look through my dainty flesh

Into my scared soul ... and beyond …

Yes, now I vision,

He makes me whole …

He makes me whole …

To-Be-Felt-Only-Thing

It is incandescent,

Luminous is its skin

Viral, its peculiarity

As in,

Creeping the thick wall

Tapping the hollow part

And,

Seeping into the cracks

The dampness of paint

It renders,

Scream and shout..

Mind play games, and

Tells you to hold it back

Mind's eye fools around,

Not letting you to fathom it,

For the depth boasted about,

Is still too frail and shallow

Hold my fingers and,

Let me enlighten your

HOW?

Fold that neatly into a half, and

Place your right onto your left

Feel the rhythm, the heart steps

If it's the To-be-felt-only-thing

Steps shall soon turn into flight

Fly to shy the wings of butterfly

Blood shall sing the godly odes

Of Purity banishing vanity,

And eternal platonic knots

Of forced parting and,

Chosen betrayal paths…

Romancing my Muse

@@@ROMANCE@@@

I'm listening to my heart,

To get to the right path

Why does it make you wince?

Pain-struck, chopped and mince

Why you say I got a squint,

And I'm chasing the flawed tint

Damn you-Darn you

God forbid

Is this all about you?

No, it's not

It's me and my muse..

So, just leave us alone

Cause

We're romance prone…