Category Archives: illusions



Dreams Uploaded

The smiling tears

The happy ache,

Winter with warmth,

Summer with sun,

Hands with hands,

Love, love and love,

Life of fun,

Heart gets pounded,

Greenary surrounded,

Sadness grounded,

Happiness founded!
Dreams downloaded,

Smile fake tears,

Pain gain vain,

Limitations unlimited,

Life, love fixated,

Season cloudy gloomy,

Rush mess fuss,

Showy fancy unreal,

Heart cold feel,

But However Nevertheless,

Run ruin Race,

Pretend Act Face,

Allowed with Grace!


Till Five


Till five the eyes are closed

Before that it is open 

Open till each circle

The stick makes,

But sometime the eye fakes,

And shakes, takes rest,

Sometime the body takes,

A heap of lovely baked cakes,

But sometime the brain just makes,

Unusual stuffs that just bluffs,

Sometime the whole being feels like a Parvenu

Placed, attached, glued

In a very wrong venue,

But all the time, through out past, present and future…

The venue was self chosen,

The venue is right since the beginning

So many lives it is sustaining

And the question arises…

Now, the self not chosen or imposed,

The venue and the self not proportional…

Both are negtively un-dimensional

Suddenly, it is Five thirty…

The eyes are open,

The venue and the self disappeared,

Then, I wake up accepting there is not a single thing to be feared!

Nature’s Call


To read and to write,

Definitely, not a basic need,

But to know the human side,

So intricate and yet delicate,

Need becomes indebted to creative seed,

To eat and to drink,

Definitely, a basic need,

But to live a blissful life,

One’s heart must learn to suffice,

When comes a time of happiness,

One must learn to share the space,

And to cry or to laugh ,

Shake hands that are soft as well as tough,

There’s so much to take,

Even when one’s life is at stake,

Difficult to make us awake,

We, only know how to fake,

Love manufactured in our human hearts,

We are the only ones,

Responsible for fortune cookies to bake,

And make the rotten humanity a Happy Cake!
Most intelligent of All,

With computers and buildings high and tall,

We’ve exceeded beyond the Great Fall,

Living in a bubble, Assumptions of mother earth as party hall,

The forgotten fear, the limited wall,

One must open eyes,

Hours later the party ends,

The hall to be emptied with sudden Nature’s Call!!!



Hope always follows her. It was not only a word that kept her living but a source to drive away the loss. What can be a terrible loss for her that made hope follow her everywhere she went. The terrible loss that was beyond itself. She would stand and strand herself with the saddest life she has got but she would look back for some happiness. And Hope gave her that happiness, that light.

She was a lovely person, a caring human. The wind that blows in the wrong season became the happiness for her when she a lovely, lovely person. The sense of living was felt in her smile. Anyone  being near to her would be blessed with her touch. A divine being, she was. The world is filled with people gathered to themselves, but when she gathered to herself, something changed in the Air. She was denying but she could change something in the Air.

Home could not be better without her. Home could not be warmer and cozy. She stumbled here and she bubbled there. She was happy. And she was her own life. Taken into the blissful scene, she would beautify the nature. She just could do something with the Air. It was like her hair would blow the hair of air, just something opposite. Air would get obsessed with her power to change something in it. Anything but something was there.

Dancing made her wild. To free the body and to free the mind. When she started to dance, she closed her eyes and dropped a music from her mouth. After that something came from a distance above the space, dropped to her feet like the meteor and started the music loudly. She could do just something with the Air. When she danced, she made an alternate self, her transparent self dancing right besides her. Her both self would make a right combination for companionship. She was a creator of herself.

Her eyes would even lure God to eat The Apple. Her eyelids were strong and slim. Her eyebrows were like the shapes of mountain, her  glowing eyeballs were just two stars taken from the universe and fitted somehow. The lust anyone could find in her eyes were just too much majestic.

And when she would smile, she could do even more with the Air, when she spoke she made the Air faint in its way inside and out. The slow motion of her lips would attach the breath in such ways that it forgot to breathe. She just could do something with the Air. She could tranquillize the air and make Breath forget to Breathe.

Her heart was of an enormous size. Like the television box would fit into her heart. Heart of heaven, she had. The pumping of blood through her heart’s veins and ventricles was like the serenity of waterfall. Her veins and ventricles, her nerves and bones were the inevitable paths to Peace.

Her body was not perfect. She was just a being who could change how the Air moved. She could make the world seem small, in front of her majestic miracle.

And suddenly the loss began to overpower. The loss to take her from heaven to hell. The loss to make her journey from heaven to hell shattering, very suffering. Like the meteor that she made drop from the universe for her music to dance, she dropped even more fast but the pain remained slow. But still she could do something with the Air. She did, but the pain slowed even more. Her enormous heart just shrank like the airless balloon and she just could not stay up in the Air, she dropped to hell just like the light drops to earth from the sun. Her star like eyes closed because of the force. Her majestic body freeing dance incarnated to be a stone, rock like stone. Her fall became even more quick, very fast and very much furious. But the pain was nothing but very serious and slow. Her hair did not flow anymore, rather it breaded itself like three snakes cuddling each other. Her smile, simple and serene ruptured into scream, vicious and vast. At that point, she just wanted to look back at Hope and make her land at least; even it is hell, land or anywhere. But Hope like others did not leave her, he gave her a Light and before she could land, She just Forgot How To Change Something In The Air!

The Director’s Dot


Trance! Trance! Is what I call! Hypnotic just super hypnotic is what I answer. It’s not that I talk or I am talking about a state of trance when you are drunk lying somewhere in a crowd full of drunkards or its not even that, that I am talking about some process of hypnotism by a well known whoever does that kind of stuff. Totally wrong dictionary I have, not literal, not meaningful and not even with any iota of sense.

Imagine! Fantasize! That I am in my bed, trying to sleep certainly but sleep does not come so easily to people to those who think much, certainly does not. I am , I am awake, I am literally staring at my ceiling, preferably wooden ceiling, I have my hands folded and rested upon my heart with not much of delight, and now I think and I enter to the world of images not real but absurd and digital images. It feels like the brain has pressed the button “play” and the movies are playing, where I play the role of a director, an actor, screen boy, cameraman and everything. A whole film set is inside my head. Sometimes, in my mood I would like to do funny things. I would introduce an actor, a characterless actor and give him a role, nothing much, a funny role. I would like to make him a tiny man with beard, small hands and stupid face and hair longer than himself. Director would praise me, for the innovation of never seen funny character. “Marvelous” – a wild imagination. Then, many times in my non-mood, I would turn the pages and subconsciously write a script, that goes nowhere, that stands nowhere, that connects nothing, that is senseless and absurd, a script that a mad person would write in his peak of madness or a street boy would write in peak of his hunger. A script, personally, I would like to call, Blank. A script that starts with an invisible dot, and ends at the same, a script inside which lies a dot, inside which lies my life! A script that tells the tales of my life, happiness, sadness and illusions.

Now, the director is in serious mood. More philosophical and more focused, where does this dot lead his story? Where does it end? What does it do in the middle, in the process to end? He asks me, as I am him and he is me, I answer, he answers, it all ends to death, it all ends to ashes, it all ends to nature. Everything we see in and around us has life; it’s just that we don’t want to see it. They all have passed the dot process; the dot story already is complete for them, so now they are part of blissful life- a natural life. The director and I would say we are lucky to be alive here, but our minds and hearts would say, unlucky creatures living a life that is nothing but an uncompleted dot. I would like to complete the process, the director says, but this time the actor would give him a reply. “To complete the dot, you have to die, Are you ready Mr. Director? Are you… Are you… Are you ….almost coming near to his soul… are you ready to die…D.I.E…

He shouts, “Mr. Director?” And the director says “And “Cut”, “Great scene we might try it again in next plight as well”. The actor is stunned to death, surprised as hell; it was no movie scene, no filmy speech, real real dialogue, no script, and no fake lines. The director is in many moods of abyss and the ambience of his face is well colored like the modern piece of painting. In his happy mood, his actors work so well- act so well, put the real life dialogue so well and he praises the actor so well. But still the director has not forgotten the Dot process. He asks, the actor, would you like to complete the process- you know the dot process. He replies, “No”, I would first like to live my life and then die. The director orders, if you can act so well, you can also die very well, can’t you Mr. Actor… can’t you! “Yes, Sire Me can… I surely can’. He answers with a sound that is audible to only microscopic insects. Then the director asks every other person in the barren set, and asks as if threatening them, Are you ready to die, for the dot completion…are you? Are you… Do you all like to be the parts of blissful nature …do you?

He is mad now! I can surely tell by his expression. Then, when I was in the crest of my indifference, he turns to me and screeches “are you ready?” Then, with all the apathy left in my presence I answer, “I am a readymade death if you can see through me, Mr. Director, I am ready to die now, if you want me to, but Forgive Me I don’t entertain anybody’s wish or wants and Mr. Director the dot is in climax of its completion or should I say Termination BUT ITS NOT MINE ITS YOURS! CONGRATULATIONS!!!