i'll cal u when the water recedes.
i'll cal u when the fire stops.
i'll cal u when u smile, with all your heart.

Nur ein L├Ącheln dort, wo sonst keiner lacht.

Ode to "Diwali"

"That best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love."

- William Wordsworth.
a friend posted this brilliant link on facebook.

n this photo also, he uploaded some days ago.

a very clever n diplomatic reply to a biased negative comment of mine.

sometimes I wonder, what on earth have twisted my way of being optimist.
do I sound like a clinically depressed self-obsessed freak?
I hate my brain.
Blessed is not the one who have got his ego unconquered,
Blessed is the ONE who have gotten rid of it.

I wish I was the ONE,
But Im too much of a fuckin human.

Shantaram - Man of Peace

"It is very beautiful, isn't it?" Johnny Cigar asked, sitting beside me and staring out at the dark, impatient restlessness of the waves. "Yeah" I answered, passing him a cigarette. "Our life, it probably began inside of the ocean," Johnny said quietly. "About four thousand million years before now. Probably near hot places, like volcanoes, under the sea."

I turned to look at him.

"And for almost all of that long time, all the living things were water things, living inside the sea. Then, a few hundred million years ago, maybe a little more -- just a little while, really, in the big history of the Earth -- the living things began to be living on the land, as well."
I was frowning and smiling at the same time, surprised and bewildered. I held my breath, afraid that any sound might interrupt his musing.
"But in a way you can say that after leaving the sea, after all those millions of years of living inside of the sea, we took the ocean with us. When a woman makes a baby, she gives it water, inside her body, to grow in. That water inside her body is almost exactly the same as the water of the sea. It is salty, by just the same amount. She makes a little ocean, in her body. And not only this. Our blood and our sweating, they are both salty, almost exactly like the water from the sea is salty. We carry oceans inside of us, in our blood and our sweat. And we are crying the oceans, in our tears."

and I closed the book and cried out the ocean inside of me, literally. I was alone, it was a cold night and there was no reason, yet I let them fall on the pages.. sometimes when I open this particular page, and touch those tiny dry wavelet circles engraved by sunk salty water, I feel ocean. the ocean inside me.

A must read for the ones, the lucky ones, who can laugh, cry, smile, feel and understand.

Fuck, Im gonna go to Leopold's and drink my hell out!!!!!


"Sixty years ago, on such a shiny day, a little boy, holding hand of his father, walked this street. and as the years passed by, father was replaced by friends and eventually by a woman. but through the twists n turns of this straight road, everyone seemed to vanish, one by one. rain poured, floods rushed in, sun burst, still, the windows remain silent and kept the secrets, til it hurt. and for the days to come, the tired old man, will walk the same old street, with mind full of unsettling thoughts about lost world, lost hope and death."

Photo Credit goes to an engineer-turned-photographer, journalist cousin of mine, Nimish Sawant.
its kind of a privilege to have a chance to write somethin bout such an artistically captured n delicately crafted photo.

heres the link to his blog : http://shutterbugged.blogspot.com/
Abr mi barad-o man shovm-e az yar-e judaa
Choon kunam dil becheneen roz zedildar judaa.
Abr baraan wa man-o yar satadah ba-widaa’
Man judaa girya kunaan, abr judaa, yaar judaa

The cloud weeps, and I become separated from my friend -
How can I separate my heart from my heart’s friend on such a day.
The cloud weeping – and I and the friend standing, bidding farewell -
I weeping separately, the clouds separately, the friend separately.

a beautiful poetry by Amir Khusrau.

didnt know how it feels until that day
I guess I'll miss my friend.
Ive come to this conclusion about greatest of the artistic expressions. there is a strange relation  between some kind of crisis, be it personal or social or anything and the most touching piece of art.

im talkin bout those little horrifiying moments captured in a photo, the wails and turns in a song, hues and shades in a portrait, pages of a book which blurs the eyes, the things which gives you the hardest throat choke.

subconsciously we connect to those colors, words and struggling music notes. its the inner conflict, about our fears, insecurities, ignorance, helplessness, baggage of hurt ego scrambled with self destructive frustrations. over the years, the conflict makes us able to understand those beautiful artistic expressions. just like you have to train your ears for some genre of music like classical or jazz, your emotions and psychological being must be mature enough to resolve and enjoy the hidden expressions.

and thats the reason why i love the ache and sadness more than happiness, even if it kills slowly.

take a shot
a fake smile or a genuine tear.

if it was possible i would have traded my libido for another pair of ears and a multitasking brain from mother nature. i kno the two ecstasies are incomparable, physical and psychological. but at least i will be totally self dependent, if nature is ready for the tread-off.

my last engg exam up tmr.. was cherishing the memories of the past that has receded like a drifting cloud. drilling through the 4 years, i met some of the most wonderful n crazy creatures who held the common grounds with me. some of their statements, u c, got tattooed on my heart. it is astonishing, how deeply romantic n mysterious friendships i had. this very moment, its a bittersweet feeling of parting ways, u kno. all those laughs, looks, joy, arms, seashores, raindrops, trains, benches, tea n cigarettes, thoughts..... we shared. fuck i cant really think of anythin now, its like an avalanche of thoughts running down my heart. tomorrow, last engineering paper, at 2 pm, im gonna get outside the exam hall, jus gonna take a look at them n pass a smile.
a smile that holds thousands of unresolved tears n unspoken words.

so long.
recently, i got my hands on this book by Dr. Prakash Amte, about his life n the way he n his family worked in one of the most remote areas of Maharashtra, near Gadchiroli. was really moved by his love to educate those literal homosapiens who didnt know that clothes do exist.. hah.

n whats our take on it?

no, we cant do that. we are too weak to control our obsession with the earthly world. we want a black Mercedes, a high paying job, a grand house, frequent trips, imported vodkas, jockey boxers blah blah blah.. fuck.. its pretty contradictory to write this thing just after the last post of mine.. werent they selfless? im as confused as the baby cuckoo in the crow's nest.

long past in 4th sem, while i was sittin in some lecture, gazing outside, i remember, i was thinkin bout a documentary, which told stories of little children amid the chaos of war n conflicts. it was disturbing n it did pluck my string very harshly. this is what my pen delivered..

" When eyes go blur with salty water, everything just fades away
there used to be a smile on the face of an orphaned kid
father, died in bombings, mother was taken away by soldiers
and now,
under this big blue sky, alone at the edge of a dried river,
he is smiling.
he never shed a tear for his parents, u kno, he died inside.
there is nothing left to burn, but he still smiles.
but we, we can not know how it feels,
the echoes of screams n cries colliding inside head.
dried in river bank.
just like his smile.

and we are here, sitting in this shithole class, dreaming of a bright future."
while comin back from a medical store jus 2 hours before, some strange voice diverted my attention. a 30 somethin lady was holding a tree near a footpath n vomiting. maybe she was pregnant n might have came to doctor. i did notice her but passed her by as if nothin has happened, jus the way everyone was. i passed another street, but she lingered on my mind, the inactiveness of others n myself was pissing me off. i stopped, maybe an immediate uncontrollable signal from my brain ordered my muscles to freeze. i turned, hesitatingly walked to her n asked her for water. she was not even capable of sayin yes. she nodded. i bought a bottle from the same medical store, opened n gave her. she stood up weakly n washed her face n drunk that icy water. She wanted to thank me with her heart but she was too exhausted to say. she jus smiled. u kno, the truest smile u could ever get from someone. i replied with the same n came home.

it was not about helping others. not about making them smile. it was not about altruism or any other romantic notion of selfless act.

it was all about a selfish human being caring about his inner peace.

can i sleep with the disturbing thoughts of an alone woman vomiting at late hours?
with me leaving her helpless.

believe me, these small moments, they own you for eternity. i can still feel the intensity of her eyes when she looked up.

Melodic Passion

Man, youve given me so much to believe, for my own insanity. Ive been to those places in my head.

My sweetest friend Brain,

Its been 21 years, Ive been with you. Sorry to say, but i cant take this badge anymore, i gotta leave now.

you and your crazy thoughts, you have always discarded my dreams as if it was a garbage. you always stopped me from being simple and forced me to pretend like a complex mystery to impress and attract unknown faces who are insignificant to me. the times i wanted to cry, u stopped me because everybody was there, it would have embarrassed you. the times i was happy, you were never contented. you have always been chasing something to fulfill your never-ending greed for respect and recognition from social circle. im sick of all this blaming and complaining.

I understand, we must be cunning, smart, intelligent enough to win the race, no one really cares who is the loser, no matter how good and noble he is. it is the winner, who gets glorified. now that im leaving, i wont be there to pull u down, you will be strong enough to be a winner, ull never break, ull never loose your confidence, ull never fear anything, ull never cry and most of all, you will never feel lonely. it was me, who caused those smallest tremors to turn into the biggest earthquakes. the more i ponder, u c, the monster inside, it grows huge. im confused, puzzled and estranged with this world.

Look what have u become? playing ego games, overpowering others, trying to pretend wise, plastic smiles and all that shit. i dont want to be a part of this whole system, where u say all this shit is necessary for us to survive. fuck it. when you are done with your chasings, break that circle, liberate your soul, look out for me. it might take you decades, you might be leading a dead old man with white beard and handful of trophies. ull find me free and isolated, gazing at the stars at night, under the moon on a distant island, where the ocean wont make any sound.

Ive got scars, one for every tear ive wasted. Im not meant to be here, kind of a social misfit i am. its a mad world, you are taking me to. leave my hand, I dont belong here. I fear the competition. I fear the people around.I fear myself.

nevermind me n my pissed off depressing ways.


Only Yours,
Bloodstained Heart.

P.S. : wouldn't you miss me?

If I can

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

- Rudyard Kipling

We had this poem in 10th, it was amongst the most boring text because i never understood it. but now its like something, i deeply believe in.
a friend of mine said to me once
"Life is a big fucking chutiyagiri"
the more im trying to prove it wrong, the more im getting it clear that somehow he was right.
everyone arguments, everyone blames, everyone wants to prove that they are right, everyone wants to prove that the person in front is wrong. along the way they forget basics, n why they started talking.
they all want attention, respect. i kno, we all want it, but plz dont get addicted. noble view gets leaked out of mind as if theres a black hole outside, they all want to win the argument. they dont know what is the solution. its total war of words, theres no respect or peace. they read newspapers to gather information so that they can throw it on their opponents face. they stay updated to win the arguments. everyone wants to win. who will solve? they never step back, even when they get to know that they r on the wrong side!!! their ego barks like a testosterone driven dog. why not help each other, develop mature, understanding and noble relationships, find answers n solutions, together?

n where do i stand in them? gotta get rid of some shit that has accumulated over the years of harmful social brain programming.

once upon a time, a baby goose denied to go with its flock. he died of cold n hunger that winter, alone.
this time, theres another baby goose, being stubborn to fly away with them. I wish he lives forever.

Shades of Gray

Stop, Look Back

Think, Choose


Sometimes it rains, sometimes it pours but most of the times, it doesnt.
just so simple. I used to like movies with happy endings. but now, somehow I love stories with sad endings.
melancholy is like some silent ocean water. it makes no sound but its so deeply bluesy.
Today, after a long time, I saw a butterfly. those orange, white n black wings,i used to run after,12-13 years ago.
but this time, this time I didnt.
it left me with a sense of freedom and a serene smile.

theres a song called "Little wing" by Jimi Hendrix.
n im so in love with it.