Saturday, December 03, 2005

Surf The Dolphin Day

Its 11 pm in the night. Its cold outside. But we are running in our shorts
in the gentle softness the sand has to offer.
Its pitch black, almost unsafe and practically illegal.
But there is no real law. We have done it before.

A couple of beers, rajma and rice and the Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.
Somehow that inspired me the most. Jeph is waiting at the stony staircase
and screaming "Hail Hitler... Open Fire... Need a medic ".
DVD is all getting pumped up as he smokes the last remaining bit while
i am bragging about the selfish lives of people who reside in Bombay,
including mine... ( in a somehow good intended fashion ).

i have already entered in a trance or what we call our "Daily Algorithm".
Its not too complicated. The code was written years ago by some genious
and has been passed on through generations including Bob Marley who happily
said "Legalise it". So we coded it too and saved the file in our
beach house. And all that we do is run the algoritm.
Thats it. With just a click of a button everything falls in its
right place or what i say is a state of being Elegantly Wasted.

i am clinging onto my surfboard, kind of falling, not sure if i can even
swim right now, not to mention surf! But i move on slowly wading into the
water while its whiplash seems to be injecting crushed ice at a freeway velocity
onto my chest and my back, as i keep falling down, saved from being completely
submerged by my surfboard.

The waves are getting bigger, faster, louder and more electric with each step.
Pretty soon we realised today is not a "Surf Day" or better known as a "Dry Day".
We are just floating on our surfboards discussing the 100 most futile things
to gift a person you love, ex: An Ipod to your almost deaf grandmother or a razor to your

.... and then it happened

Out of sheer but obvious hysteria and paranoia, we started to flutter like a bird
trapped between the bloody hands of canned hunters. But then, emerging from the
moonlight that bounced onto this stormy ocean night, a grey coloured fin emerged from
all of this madness, and in a couple of seconds she was right in front of us say a couple
of feet away as i am mesmerising into a state of "float in air".

She pushed herself into the green water and in a moment of temporary illusion,
she was gone. It was a symbol of joy. It was like leaping into the infinite depths
of an abyss and touching the sky and reaching back on earth safely with a handful
of sunsets.
It was simply kinetic.
An overdriven uproar of energy.
An image of ecstacy

Friday, December 02, 2005

A painting on a wall

There is a smoke and a gift shop
Down by the muddy end of the road
An ocean that smells stronger than the cigar puffs
Accumulated in the thin air by those biker dudes
Two hundred twenty five BHP held on by those incredible tattoos
The leather, the whips and the chains
Horny girls with beach hair and all that beautiful cleavage
Surfboards, skates, short skirts and gorgeous legs
A slight disaggeragation makes room for another beauty
Not a real life depiction but created by one
There is a painting on the wall
An arch shaped entrance in a world of colours
I really cannot figure out what it wants to say
Don’t think I tried to find the meaning
It has an unusual color combination
Not flashy at all, not earthy at all
And yet it captures everything
Life, death, oxygen, water,
Real love, fake love, music,
Heaven, hell, hatred, greed, insanity,
“processed sanity”, lust, silence
Now I don’t mean to say the painting is talking about that
It just generates those feelings inside of me
Goosebumps pop up as I shiver with cold hitting wind
As I see the last flight of the sea birds for the post sunset evening
As I start to walk back home I am left with myself

Wonder what the painter went through when he painted that
Wonder what her bra size was
Wonder if there was a better cleavage than that
Or all good cleavages of more or less of equal temptation
Wonder how I am going to pay my long stock of bills
Wonder if Shreya has even mailed me the visa stuff or not
Wonder how complicated our lives are going to get
Wonder what kind of pleasures we are searching for

Wonder what kind of a paint brush the painter used
Wonder what his side of the story was
Is just a random mixture of colours
Or is it something that is so pure
That I can never interpret.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Messenger of Processed Insanity

My mind is dark and in hell
Fed by worms and an anathema spell
Hear the sounds of eerie voices which slowly fade
Into a deafening silence as they bruise me with a razorsharp blade

Gallop on this four winged horse with a red horn
Icy wind, in the southern skies I’ll ride till morn
Seven shades of dust covers my gray eyes
Another dying prey, I feel no more surprise

There is only death and danger
In this prison to which I surrender
A playground of an illusive sky
No one plays , they only die

A raging thunder, a terrifying scream
An Electric madness, a lava stream
Kill these worms, my senses blur
How I’ve longed for a messenger

Monday, November 07, 2005

Enter Life version 0.05

I like to walk the streets
Until I get lost
With an unshaved skin
And an empty bag
I like to drive
With slight carelessness
Backwards in a fog
Forward when the sign shows red
I like to study faces
In a shopping mall
Live my life as shattered
As a brick in a broken wall

I have lost
Everyone I have loved
I have dropped
Everything that was real
But here I come
Looking for a another chance
One final stand
Please come see me off.

30 GB up in smoke!

If you lose your money
Then you have lost nothing

If you lose your health
Then you have lost something

If you lose your character
Then you have lost everything

But if you lose 30 GB of hard disk space
Then you fucking lose 30 GB OF HARD DISK SPACE

Dear Siddhharth Adelkar
Sell me your imagination
I aint gonna pay shit
Cause you owe me 30 GB

Damn PowerQuest Partition Magic
A new name for that sucker should be
CheapQuest Partition Spell.

Friday, October 07, 2005


When NASA first started sending up astronauts, they quickly discovered that ball-point pens would not work in zero gravity. To combat this problem, NASA scientists spent a decade and $12 billion developing a pen that writes in zero gravity, upside down, on almost any surface including glass and at temperatures ranging from below freezing to above 300 C.

The Russians used a pencil.

And its fools like me who cross the sea that pay the damn taxes.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Hey mumma

I’m dying
I’m dizzy
And I’m frying
My throat hurts
I think i
Should stay in bed

Cause I’ve got some kind of disease
And there are no remedies
Think I should stay in bed today
May be tomorrow go out and play
Its Friday

With ginseng
And some fresh squeezed juice
Or some dal rice
Or some hot chicken soup
That just might
Keep me alive
For a couple of days

Cause I got some kind of disease
And there are no remedies
Think I’ll try and follow timothy leary
A couple of doses, set myself free
Next Friday

Cause I got some kind of disease
And there are no remedies
Think I’ll put myself in a cryogenic freeze
The metro, the phony, the dusty breeze
Should have listened when you said beware
Of horny girls with Los Angeles hair
Last Friday

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Transformations From A Sleeping Room

Should i talk to you
or should i just disconnect
should i close the doors
or should i just leave them open for the cold
should i speak my mind
or should i just keep it buried deep inside
should i keep myself hanging
or should i use a knife
shoud i drink some water
or should i leave myself dry
should i worry that this wont happen
or should i just not try
should i beg the clouds for rain
or should i believe in god
should i take a detour
or should i handcuff myself on this track
should i wait for you
or are you gone and onto someone new

Am i loud and clear
or am i breaking up
am i dead asleep
or am i just waking up
am i living in a dream
or is this a disease
are we getting closer
or are we just getting more lost.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

One more murder , not a suicide

The subway shooting of Jean Charles de Menezes, an unarmed Brazilian man is bad enough. But to make things worse now the British authorities are insisting that they did nothing wrong in killing him.

Now where the fuck is the justice in that!!!!

Instead, they are defending their new "shoot in the head" policy to stop suspected terrorists.

(A policy that we have in the U.S., by the way)

In the name of peace , people get scared and randomly spill blood,
In the name of religion people not only kill , but destroy .
What the FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Bubblegum World

Paleness comes in two shades
I picked the wrong one up for myself
The earth behind me begins to shake
While I am already feeling broken
Cannot differentiate
Between whats real and whats for sale
The world is turning into a market place
I see you standing in the line every day

Turn around
I am a slave to your love
I am going down
Help me change my fate
Everybody’s standing
While I am falling down
Down down and I am falling down
Deeper and deeper
Through the hole
I make my way
To the unknown

My heart weighs a ton now
My heads open for anyone to mess
Money seems to be no cure
I choose a sickness , its so pure
Medicate me , I cant breathe
Sleep on dust and my own sweat
The world is turning into a market place
I see you standing in the line everyday

Turn around
I am a slave to your love
I am going down
Help me change my fate
Everybody’s standing
While I am falling down
Down down and I am falling down
Deeper and deeper
Through the hole
I make my way
To the unknown

You have time to kill
You fail and in stead you kill my will
I take time to hide
You save yours for another lie

Everybody's standing
While I am falling down
Down down and I am falling down
Deeper and deeper
Through the hole
I make my way
To the unknown

Paleness comes in two shades
I picked the wrong one up for myself
Trust and security are on sale
i see myself standing in the line everyday

Sunday, June 26, 2005

The Velvet Thorns Of Dirgenpale

Six strings of darkness on a guitar melancholy
I watch the mountains where the frost begins
The southern storm is rising , guiding me
To the forest , the genesis of resurrection

Silently the nightbirds fly
Their last scream , my eternal dirge
Under a pale full moon , a funeral of a soul
In the forest , the end of time

Still I walk with open wounds
The fourth is now rising
Through the ashes of a dying love
A new soul and a machine is born

Tall are the shadows that dance before me
Horned master now screaming with lust for blood
His final screams empower the dawn
The forest of resurrection , condemmed to sorrow

Chasing the wind
Like a spirit fly
Through the autumn trees
I ride towards the sky
Hoofs are pounding
In the clouds above
The chariot of sorrow
Watch me die

Feel the screams
So sad and blackened
Like a haunting breeze
The songs of Dirgenpale
Dream of the queen
The queen of roses

Now I am stealing her body and taking it home
My soul is on fire and all her lies have been shown

I must die
Through the sky
The forest of resurrection

Follow the wind
Ride south my child
The purest of winters
The darkest of feelings
The forest that never ends
There you’ll find your fate

And to the south I rode on the coldest of winds
I watched the mountains where the frost begun
No whisper or sight of the angels
Where death is all mine

At last I found the Throne of Bereavement
Grim and bleak raised to the sky
The Velvet Thorns Of Dirgenpale are mine
And so are death and solitude

In the garden of ice
My final sacrifice
In the trees my voice remains
Always calling , forever fading

Six strings of darkness on a guitar melancholy
Flowing tunes across the icy sky
The southern storm rests , keeps me
Tied into the forest , a slave of resurrection

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Grunge hat and a pair of Bohemian shoes--- The Irresistible outfit

All that was green and good once
is slowly turning into sand
just like the days slip
as the sun begins to fall asleep
yet i am wide awake
awake with nothing of interest
gloomy dark shadows creep across my wall
covering the acid proof bricks
while a roaring ball of lava
rolls over reality
until nothing's left but to quit and forfeit

watching trains and planes go by
the emptiest of feelings
with one eye i spit out the flames
and with the other i swallow the dust
she told me i could turn around
see the light but just for a while
i could not move
i had my eyes fixed into the swarming crowd
i had my mind fixed into her silk eyes
her eyes were swaying all around

have i gone too far away
to reach nowhere?
or am i still right here
with lack of care?

Friday, June 03, 2005

Above the ceiling,Under the roof

At all times I need
A brief glimpse
An opening in the midst of
An incongruous landscape
A glint of flashes in the fog
A dialogue of two passerby meeting in a crowd
That has a name or not
And I think that
Setting out from there
I will put together
Piece by piece
The perfect city
Made from the fragments
Of what is mixed up
But yet esoteric and with the rest
Of instants
Seperated by intervals
Of signals one sends out
Not knowing who receives them
Never knowing who sends them .

All these thoughts in my head last just as long as a cigarette or a coffee or a chocolate cookie or a five minute orgasm.
Its like you smoke the bud , drink your coffee , eat your cookie and cum till the fun just stops , you wake up in the morning you go for your fucking work , the same old mundane whether you enjoy it or you don’t , It is still fucking mundane. That is it , end of the fucking list .

I am not the only one
Having a utopia wrapped inside and around my head,
But then there pops in your head , not like a light bulb but a ray of darkness through which you can partially and fully see : the meaning of “life” .

But then again imagine living in a place you have absolutely zilch issues.
I would probably commit suicide .

Tuesday, May 10, 2005


Watching open blue skies
Wondering why there aint no vultures flying
Bubbles floating high above
Ripples swimming all around

Is it just that I’ve been dreaming
Or is it just that I’ve been thinking
Is it just that I’ve been shaking
No, its just that I’ve been breathing

Perfumed clouds race to the mind
Wondering what happened to the speed of light
Aimlessly catching butterflies
Bottles spin and expressionless eyes

Is it just that i’ve been dreaming
Or is it just that I’ve been thinking
Is it just that I’ve been sinking
No, its just that I’ve been breathing

Random conversations with a dog
Wondering how life would be if I was on this all the time
Superheroes and guns all made of light
Alphabets flying all around

Is it just that i’ve been dreaming
Or is it just that I’ve been thinking
Is it just that I’ve been sulking
No, its just that I’ve been breathing


Get me out of this town
I’ve been felling so down
Going round and round
In circles
Like a clown
That chases a cloud
So frail on the outside
Brown all the way inside

I’ve been mellow
Like the sun’s been on me forever
Yet I feel so cold
And old
Lost for love
All I find is a vacant home
Where the hell did I think I was
I am not sure where I belong

I am gonna drift away
I am gonna stay away
I am gonna drift away
I am gonna stay away

But do you even care
I don’t really care

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Strange Disguise

Dry out the pain
take turns to
be someone else
never alone
always by myself
cold aint killing me
you're here
take all the time
to displease me
i am easily satisfied
i hate everything

truth may come in a
strange disguise
lies will remain lies

control the night
brutal screams
swords and steak knives
she silently escapes
you crumble
you have no clue
shattered bruised
make it come alive
you're turning grey
lacking in sense of time
i am far way from what is real

truth may come in a
strange disguise
lies will remain lies

let me sleep
my tears wont cry
its been raining
but i am feeling dry
let me dream
dont let them in the drain
and in truth
your lies become one and same

She's the blade

She’s the blade

Behind her warm enchanting eyes
Deep beneath her enticing skin
Lies a shattered dream
A piece of broken glass
The one that slips into my eyes now
I’ve tried to stay away
I’ve tried to hide
What is wrong for me is the obvious for her
With so much ease , I see right through her
One of these days I am gonna lose my sight

She’s the blade
I am just skin
She’s the blade
She’s the sin

She can be my liar
She can be my pillar of bad dreams
Obsessed in her fire
Burning like a flame inside of me
Cursed by love so dire
Keep me hanging on this wire
Another noose to fit me right through
One more fuse blown that will not return
Starring straight into the sky, avoid the sun
Yet darkness blinds me, it would be so easy with a gun

She’s the blade
I am just skin
She’s the blade
She’s the sin

She’s the blade
She’s the tin angel
She’s the blade
Now she’s got a cain.