Cherry Trees and A Man Apart

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The Land Of Opiate Lions

I walked slowly,haltingly,each step an impossibility of action,of thought.The road was an amalgam of loose soil,blown fleetingly from Kotal-e Salang,and asphalt,a trickling example of modernity in civil engineering.The air was dry and barren,much like the state of affairs of its nation.I felt tired and defeated but primarily disgusted at my own impotency to change anything.War evokes this feeling in the most deadened of hearts,but this was not war,i mused,it was a bloody extermination;of men,of tradition,of culture and the world had turned a blind eye to it.I walked on,each step a symbol of my personal Waterloo.What was it that i had thought that i could change in this fate less nation where death enveloped men not with a quiet dignity but with a hound's blood lust?I was ordinary and the world did not respond to the ordinary;it responded to men of power,but men in power wanted wars and tumbling economies so that they may build their own empires of wealth.Money which came from thriving opium business and the global arms race.What could i do in this world which was governed by laws i could not understand?

Kabul was feverish;with disease,hunger,deaths and grief.Men looked on with hollow eyes at the debris of their spiritual essence,of their homeland which has served as a foster battleground for the mighty of the world.Afghanistan's beauty lies neither in the sheer magnificence of its virgin land and nor in the towering Hindu Kush mountains which serve as its pseudo guardians;it lies in its resilience,its solitude and the indomitable spirit of its people.There have been days when i have cried like a child looking at shards of humanity in this god forsaken land ;where men risk everything for one another,where each day is a battle not for survival but for hope.Kabul was resilient and that was all that mattered to its people.The by lanes of fear,the army rangers patrolling the area for security and the Presidential Palace in all its magnanimity were sights of assurance that helped keep life going on.When i had set foot in Kabul,i was excited and interested in the state of life,now i felt devoid of all emotion except for a confused state of rage and helplessness.I was not alone in my sensitivity,there were many who were aware of the turmoil the nation was in but like me,could really not do anything worthwhile.


I was an outsider but the Afghans welcomed me with open arms.The hard humor at the US Army bases goes as-An Afghan embraces you only to stab you in the back,i do not believe this to be true and a certain level nor do they;but the imperialistic discourse in their foreign policy is unmissable.They never came here looking for terrorists.They came here for a stronghold over Western Asia,a potent strategic location.What is audacious and overwhelming so is America's sordid belief in its exceptionalism and fundamental sense of righteousness that it fails to acknowledge cultures and traditions apart from his own.Afghanistan has/had(can't really place a finger on it) a rich culture and one finds delight and finesse intrinsically layered within its various art forms,something that is disappearing for no apparent fault of theirs;for one cannot really expect them to preserve art when they are struggling to preserve their life?I was certain their must be a logic,a finality of thought that could explain this spectacular holocaust but i was certain no man alive could fit all the pieces together.While i drift towards philosophy,the battle weary Afghans contemplate existentialism,i gather a local translation of Camus would do them some good.I walk some more,inhaling the stench of dry sweat and absorbing the contours of a nation that is fighting since time immemorial.Generations of men have fought for a freedom whose essence they themselves have forgotten.

To quote an old cinematic Afghan about the enemy's prayer-"May God deliver us from the venom of the Cobra, teeth of the tiger, and the vengeance of the Afghan."

My story is not yet over but i cannot write anymore for i fear sheer despondency may force me to abort my endeavors of chronicling my journey of this land of opiate lions.

A Muse And Specks Of Dust

Dorothy Parker And The Concerned Universe

Indifferent Lovers And Lonely Muses

Dorothy came and went
her words
and indifference
strewn like ashes
in the river of my life.

She is neither here
nor ever will
but should i not want
that cannot be mine?
she came and went
far away,not forever.

For she left her words
poetic verse
obtuse,true
like a child
of the masters
and the slaves alike.

Understand you not
life and laughs.
and what burns on
your cheeks,
are not just my tears
nor even yours.

What you left
you know not
and nor do i.
but you still know
a bit of this and that
while i still don't.

You cannot return
nor can i
for fate binds us
along with words
some you use
and some i.

Gone you are
away and far
but you taught me
a thing or two
about life's flair
yet never to care.

For The Times To Come

Goodness is incomprehensible.A stain of divinity.Perfection beyond the realm of thought,surpassing action and motives,confusing the world to the point of turmoil.What you call beauty,what you worship as your gods,what you feel as divine is the Absolute Good.Undeviating truth,like a child who sees the world through wondrous eyes,it is our innate goodness that the world takes away from us bit by bit.Don't fear the world,it can be fooled.I have done so.The art lies in deception.Its paradoxical that one must use deception to preserve the very seed of goodness.Act as if you are evil while nurturing the child of goodness within the womb of your soul.The world will hunt you,men who call themselves your brothers will feed upon you if you betray an inkling of your goodness.Show the world that you are brutal,devious,cunning.Only then you may be able to save goodness from its impending doom.



They say its impossible to be good.It is not.You gave up too soon.The world is not bad.I pity it.I see the cosmic joke.Each one of us projects an image.An image of our faults,of our follies so that we may be seen as plausible victors in this universe of duplicity.Drop the mask.Be good.The universe exists in the hope that we all will share a common brotherhood,of love,of tolerance,of beauty.Don't disappoint it.





Men destroy goodness in the light of the day but they weep for their actions in the darkness of night.Gloom settles on them as the world snubs them with the gaze of envy and loathing.You run after love,after wordily possessions,after a sense of complacency.Leave it all behind.You can only reach divinity through acts of goodness.Pure and joyful.The last thread that co joins us to humanity almost like an umbilical cord.Snap it and civilisations will fall.You know the pinnacle of happiness through acts of goodness.You have felt it.You know the sheer brilliance of our poetic selves.We are all creatures of delight,possessing potential for acts of paramount kindness.You will not live to see a thousand suns.But you can illuminate this place with a bit of your own inner light,the very flame that flickers a bit too brightly by the joy you give to the world.You are your own master,your own god,live life as a human being,secretly spreading joy and love,but be always on your guard,for the world should never know that you are essentially good.

*And he smiled and smiled.*

Midnight Rendevouz

Bored as usual,bored of french opera music,of cinema italiano,of endless cups of bittersweet coffee,of reading unmentionable books back to back;i decided to go out.It was almost the middle of the night,an hour to go perhaps,that i contemplated the destination of my midnight escapade.It had to be someplace where i could find solitude,an escape from ennui,from nothingness to nothingness.I had to be quiet or it would be really weird trying explaining your parents why you were fully dressed(not that its otherwise) and trying to tiptoe out of the house in the middle of the night.I had apply all the stealthy moves that i had subconsciously learned from the likes of Bond and Wile E Coyote.I was feeling reckless and bored,a dangerous combination for a quiet,chilly and foggy Delhi night.


I clocked around an average of 122kph and reached the heart of Delhi in about twenty minutes.Connaught Place is a lovely,my kinda place with its obvious Georgian architecture and obscure history.Obscure not in the historical sense,of course,but about those countless stories that make up the place and give it an ethereal charm.So i reach the place somewhere around 12 and am felling pretty rebellious for a change.I drive a bit around,hoping to find a nice place to go to,when i suddenly realize that its been a long time since i indulged myself in a bit of luxury.Well i don't drink(as of yet),so no point in going to a pub and sipping cranberry juice.Both the Meridian and Shangri La are close by but i decided to go to the Meridian instead;a bit of nostalgia with that place,not to mention familiar terrain.I was almost there when i thought that tonight is not the night to do tried and tested things,tonight is the night to try new things,to live life dangerously.I admit going to Shangri La isn't dangerous one bit but such are life's dearies!

I was ushered in Cafe Uno discretely and politely.The ambiance was excellent and so was the coffee.Lost in my own amusing thoughts of how my definition of a midnight snack had changed over the years,i suddenly noticed someone looking at me intently.Now this rarely happens to me and i am usually the one giving people long piercing stares.She gave me a small coquettish smile and i trying to look all suave and confident,gave her an inviting,charming smile.She walked over and said,

'Hi,Do you mind if i join you?'

'Of course not,rather i would be quite glad',standing up suddenly as a proper gentleman.A bit of chivalry doesn't really hurt anyone.

'Aditya, right?'

'Um....yeah but how do you know my name?',i asked,utterly perplexed.

'I am surprised you don't remember me.Hi,I am *****,we met at Vaibhav's party.'

'Oh,Hi *****,i am so sorry.Its been a long time and it was kinda dark at his place',i grinned sheepishly.

'Oh that's all right though i guess his place was dark for a reason.'We both smiled and then laughed.Her laugh was more of giggle but in a cute sort of a way.

And then we talked.We talked about life,about love,about the world at large.It was strange,talking to someone whom i had met met just once before but it felt absolutely brilliant.We shared the same tastes in books and movies though we were at polar opposites when it came to the question of Shobha De;she found her over rated ,i did not.Apart from our opinions on Ms De,we both had the same fantastic tastes!!!

Coffee was brilliant.Our conversation was even better.But as Nelly Furtado sings,All good things come to an end.They actually do.She had to go and i had to leave.We exchanged numbers and i wrote my blog address on her hand.She walked away and suddenly i felt the chill in the air.

I reached home,tip toed back to my room and thought about the evening.Life is one big coincidence and i am waiting for it to happen again.

If you are reading this,then i ll be there waiting for you,same place,same time.If not,i ll still be there.

PS- ******,you are absolutely brilliant and fantastic.

The Murder Of Sherlock Holmes

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Alea iacta est

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An Answer

'Why don't you talk to me properly?'

'I am talking to you properly ,i am courteous,i am polite ,i am ..'

'Shut up.I am not talking about social mannerisms.Things have changed and you know it.Did i say something wrong?Cmon tell me.'

'Oh there is nothing of such sort.'

'Fine i too won't talk to you.'

'OK.'

*Moments pass*

'Doesn't it have any affect on you?'

*Sigh*

'I did not want to be blunt or rude.We have been friends for a long time but i am sorry but i cannot continue talking to you anymore.I gave you hints but you ignored them.Its over.I am sorry.'

'Why?'

'If you haven't understood by now,i won't ever be able to explain it you.But always know,i have known pain,tasted defeat but being with you is a trauma,a finality that i cannot explain.You are so precious to me that i cannot bear to even look at you or hear your voice,because every time i do that i see my life as a failure.Understand and forgive me.'

'You always spoke in riddles but if it makes you happy then i won't see you again.'

'Bye.'

'Bye.'

To give away oneself to another is the most sacred and vulnerable deed.To be thwarted then,is the most painful.The two most powerful emotions known to man are-love and hatred.When both fail to reassure,a new emotion takes over to compensate for loss of pride and mental anguish:indifference.Indifference is chiefly the only thing that will help you sail over rough waters.

Let the world burn to ashes and i won't bat an eyelid.

Taut Warning

Anarchy must end.

I do not talk about political or institutional anarchy,I talk about human beings and their insatiable desire to conquer everything.When Darwin came out with 'The Descent Of Man',he did mention the part about us being descended from apes but forgot about the massive inferiority complex we suffer from.Every human craves and desires,barring of course some monks,yogis and dopers.And each of these sweet and justifiable desires merge together to form a collective desire or collective guilt as my professor would put it.Egos have inflated and brains have rotted.It often astonishes me how people maintain healthy decorum in this world underlined with violence.From language to religion to culture,all that lies beneath is violence.Pure vicious violence.Outside our conceited selves exists everything that actually matters;the universe,nature,gods and polar bears;and they are angry with us.The bright side is that they are forgiving and patient.You cannot repair what you have damaged but stop now.

Stop and the gods will smile.Don't and they might not.

Don't push it.

Ad augusta per angusta

When i sit alone for hours in the darkness of my room i am numbed with joy.It is bliss beyond measure.

Delusion coupled with procrastination.

The irrevocable paradox of my existence.Happiness is remarkably chameleon like,swift to change its colors like passions in the abyss of the self.The mind is a cocoon where i concoct my streams of reality.I am mad by society's measure.Its exhilarating.Peaks of ecstatic joy are often coupled with sadistic morbidity.Its is the ultimate hallucinogen.It is the ultimate high.

The world or atleast a small part of it should be scared.Scared of the fact that if i come to power i will flow with the flow.Flow of spiritual depravity.Seems funny to use the world spiritual.Opiate of the masses anyone?

I am complex.I am proud.I am the man who breathes many lifetimes in one life.I get high with my thoughts.They are scary.Plunging deep in the oasis of redemption is all i seek but i need to cross the deserts of my sins first.

I can win wars of cataclysmic proportions with my indifference.Mix that with devious eloquence and you have arbitrariness of human existence.Power works both ways.It takes you to the cliffs of numbing pride but in the claustrophobic premise of life.You live and die everyday.Kings and lepers,my friends,kings and lepers.

I d rather destroy myself than let anyone else crown me king.I am a puppet but every now and then,i pull the strings back.Moral relativism is the next best thing to pragmatism.The final question is:Will you be remembered by posterity or are you another life sucking organism who is the product of minutes of urgent copulation?

Think about it.

'I' is a just a piece of eclecticism.

Ours is not to choose.