After a Long Time..

People nowadays think that sunrise has lost its mesmerizing capabilities. Old people are never fed up of telling the coming generation about how life was, and how it has changed over the time in recent times. Nature, being one of the prime topics of such conversations, according to them has not been so much promising for the generations to come, surely I mean, and it of course hasn’t. How could it be? We, who were called the future of the mankind, have not at all preserved it. Anyways, leave this topic here itself. What I wanted to point out is that the sunrise, the always refreshing time of the day has not at all lost its touch of revitalizing the spirit and mind.

And here I am, experiencing one more beautiful, sunny winter morning in Bhopal. Oh yeah, Bhopal, that is my home town, is a simple and a very peaceful city at the heart of India. It is often called the city of lakes, though not universally known by this name, which you will get to know soon why, at least we Bhopalis like to call it this way.

And this time I am actually sitting on the now abandoned bench situated at the remains of a watch tower at the hill surrounding the upper lake. This upper lake, the second largest fresh water lake in India was once a very popular picnic spot here in Bhopal. Staring at the red-orange rising sun always give me a feeling of nostalgia. It gives me such a free and tension less time, that is automatically force me to think about the things happened in the past, both good and bad, memorable or not.

Among the memories I think about again and again, prominent ones are those which involves me as a mere puppet. A puppet in the sense that I am unable to change the things happening, and not that I am a mere spectator in my own memories. I mean, those memories were great, in every way. They happened for a reason I suppose, of course which was unclear in every possible way it could have been. The reason obviously is still unknown for most of them.

Ok, I am here this morning because I am awaiting something special to happen today. I think that today is going to be a good, great day. Oh, and yeah, I think that nearly everyday.

I will meet her today, as I do every other day.

Amin.
SataniEnthu!

Flow with the wind.

Yes, the cattle walk. The obvious situation with demands none of your sense. Just do what others are doing. Yes to a yes. And probably a no to a no.

While I was traveling in a bus the other evening, I imagined a small world inside that bus. No one was telling anyone where to get off or where does this bus (read world) end at. All were busy with their own small world, which of course was a subset of this bus world.

Now while I was imagining this small world in front of me, a whole new entity came into living. These were characterized by the voices everyone (or at least I) heard. They weren’t exactly calling me, but instead were just a mere indication. Indication which I felt was like a small unused corner of a world that no one cares for.

I was forced to look at what I was ignoring. I went through each and every possible remembered instance. I actually wanted to question myself on the authenticity of these indications. Thus I flowed with the wind.

I was taken aback by the reality that the winds believed in. it was not as if someone asked them to do this. They were just random. They do what they believed in. short term may be, but still they just did it.
In other words I felt like they were just like me. But. Not that they flowed with the wind. The wind just flowed with their minds/instincts or whatever actually.

A little more caring and the world would have been different. Very different. No wind to follow. No mind to think. Nothing to care of.

Amen.
Satanicenthu.

Beliefs and Promises.

Probably can be two of the most powerful words English can ever produce.

Everything – Feelings to actions, Understandable to the most amazing phenomenon.

Beliefs bring people together. They bring revolutions. They bring changes.

Promises make things happen. They move the world. They keep the spirit alive.

The best way to live this life shall involves these; promises and beliefs. A way to create memories, lot of them. Way to cherish life.

Its part of your life that no one cares, except you. Except that you ought to believe and keep up to your promises. One of the fun parts of this is to laugh at your own beliefs and still pursue it. Still lead it to end. To an end which shall bring in with it lot of effort, lot of care and a hell lot of learning.

One can even try to fold all your beliefs into an envelope and keep it. Keep it for the time to come. Only thing you need to be is strong enough for that. And funny enough to laugh at them.

Make idiotic promises and have stupid beliefs. Believe unendingly and promise ferociously. That’s one way to make this life interesting.

Amen.
Satanicenthu!

Tomorrow, my Brother!

Tell my mind what is to be believed. It thinks one of the day is falling down. It’s going down.
And all this well, might happen any coming day. He says the best part is yet to come. The fear on your face. The patience in your arms is slipping away. Well, what piece of energy that was.

We all tend to the least possible energy. That’s why we shout, fight and eternally try to die. My mind is the only one afraid of that. He knows this much energy slipping away clearly implies his death.

Oh, is that why he keeps me reminding of the near to dying tomorrow? A classic example for the common belief of people, accelerating themselves to the cause of something, just because you think that that was the only cause. For your demise, that is.

I read the above lines around an hour ago after I wrote them. I waited for a while for these words to talk to me back again explaining them. No one ever came. So I published all this here, so that some time in the future they may want to come to me and speak up.

Amen.
Satanicenthu!

Anesthetize

Is this independence for real? An imaginary phenomenon people die for? Or it’s just the vibrations of some unhandled energies in unison? What a life sir? Near sighted stupid people shouting for some low level vision that boasts of idiosyncrasy and false pillars of equality.

People now have limited vocabulary. This constrain has instead lead to an even more humorous situation where people not just are able to understand each other, but as a matter of fact they just don’t feel like expressing themselves.

Strange, and true till the purity of layer of dew on green grasses, I admit today of the absent-mindedness of our over intelligent race. Not to be generic, I must now get back to not so exceptional case of me. I have been thinking lately about the overrated functions of a beginning and an end. And while debating with myself, I was not able to find out the answer to this: Does a new beginning always demand an end to something?

I never quite believed my eyes till I saw one. Miracle is what I consider that. Nightmare is what people call it. The butterfly flying.

Some people say pain is the life’s only way to make you feel small. Rest is what God considers trash. You and me.

Amen!
SatanicEnthu!

I should have seen it coming

I still remember the days when all this I am seeing here was trees. Oxygen producing and fruit bearing trees. And I still remember when all inside my mind was innocence and truthfulness.

Now it’s no more than a chaos room. Things exist without knowledge, affecting the daily activities brutally. Life has become blurred and opaque. I should have seen it coming.

I should have cared for it more, just like our priced books that we keep even after reading. I should have nurtured it the way farmer loves his crop. I should have closed the openings to my mind just like plumber fixes the water system. I should have repaired the broken parts timely. And I should have seen all this coming all the way.

I allowed it to wander, I allowed it to fly. I allowed it to follow the butterfly and I allowed it to cry. Now here are the results. How could have I ignored it? I should have seen it coming.

-
Amen.
SataniEnthu!

Random, here and there.

Random thoughts have always been my distinguishing feature. I can randomize randomly.

People think that this ain’t real. This haphazard and arbitrary state of mind is unreal. They say that I can’t see the butterfly. I can’t tell the colors of her ever changing wings. Wings flutter for a change.

Brownian motion was an interesting principle. The point that people did not get from it, is the principle’s existence for human thoughts. They wander random, they come up arbitrarily and they never repeat the pattern.

Random is by far the purest form one can achieve. No, it does not mean someone lack the capability to organize them and deliver them in a desired manner responsible for a profound conclusion. It means that…you should actually get that.

I sip my tea and I watch the sun set. I gear up my inlines and go for a small fly. I stop anywhere and see actions of children. So random, so pure these children are. I make paper planes for them. Boats they know how to build.

I dream throughout the day. Most of the nights I can’t sleep. So I hear to random night’s silence. This makes me feel, the world currently lacks haphazardness. So I assume I play a pivotal role in bringing the world to more random state.

Someday I will walk away, assuming that this world ain’t no more a place to be. It somewhat disappoint me. No, not this world, but me. Me, seeking the answer to my randomness.

“Hey you! My boy. Come walk with me. Come close to me and I will tell you how to fly. After all, that’s what you are looking forward to, eventually. Isn’t it? “ , I said, laughing all the way.s

Amen.
Satanicenthu!

I went out for a kill.

And I went out for a kill. That was a rage driven act. Losing senses sometimes is easy and excusable. So I suppose you would understand this.

I left myself exposed from the left. From the side my heart belonged to. Creative side of the brain was still intact. I went for it. The kill.

Never close your eyes, I remembered someone saying to me. Not to close your eyes at the time. See the oozing streams of blood. The dark, red, viscous and filthy smelling liquid. life.

Hear the screams. The sounds which signify pain. The lifeless corpse’s crashing sound to ground. The sound of blood flowing.

Feel your heartbeat banging against your chest. The tremor that pass through your body when the sword cuts the flesh. Taste the blood drop on the sword. Sweat coming off the eyebrows.

What was devilicious was not the brutal kill. But the smile. The smile that followed the kill. An out of the world, eternally satisfied soul’s laugh.

The time was here. I already rehearsed the act uncountable number of times in my mind. Unexpectedly a tear came out of my eyes on its journey with a meaning. It had a great fall. On my wrist it landed. I looked at it, and then at the sword. A little shining piece of metal. Messenger of death. Merciless weapon for the final blow.

A final note to myself, “ I am here for the kill”. and I went out for the kill. With my eyes closed. And with my left side exposed.

I heard the sounds, I saw the blood and I closed my eyes. This was enough, I thought.

Amen.
Satanicenthu !

No Words.

Do we really need words to express life? Often we have heard phrases like eyes speak all, or the silence was all that was necessary for the moment.

On my way to home, I often stop at the small tea stall by the road. I face the sun, the golden orange colored sun partially hidden behind the clouds. All it takes is a blink sometimes. I am not alone most of the times, as a number of other people try the same.

A voice called me from behind, “how much does a cup of tea cost?” Uninterested I answered, “eight Rupees”. I turned a couple of minute later to see who it was actually. An old man in his late sixties most probably with his granddaughter was watching the sun just like me. The only difference was the perspective with which we both faced the sun.

His eyes spoke of the life he had been through, the world that no more exist and about the beliefs and promises he stood for. It didn’t take me a lifetime to feel this; just a moment of exposure to his radiating energy was enough.

World has its strange ways to delude you he said. The life that was, the life that was supposed to be, they all turned out to be different, very different. Even then there were no tears or regrets. It looked to me that he wanted his granddaughter to preserve his point of view. He didn’t want her to carry on his teachings or lessons, only his point of view.

The question which I put in the beginning just changed. Do we really need even something like words to feel someone’s thoughts? I think not.

And I sipped my tea; the sun was not visible and smile was all mine.

Amen.

Satanicenthu!

Tomorrow is the day.

I believe in something doesn’t mean that I want it to be.

I believe this world will end today. No one will be alive tomorrow. Everyone will die. No you, not at all me and no one for that matter, will be there for tomorrow to come.

But just when the above thought flashes in my mind, a number of things had made their presence felt there. What to?

I suddenly started looking for deeds I have to remind myself before dying. The diary, the paint brush, the post-it notes, the messages in bottle, the photographs and my memories were all over the room flying randomly. I could just not believe my eyes. This all was happening. I was panicking too early I thought. I got hold of a paint brush flying pass by. And ran toward a wall, seek some shelter.

Turning towards the wall with head in between the knees and hands over my eyes. What to do was the only question.

I took my notebook and started scribbling something. Imagine there is no heaven. There is no gravity left. My tears get detached from the eyeball and are now exactly in front of my eyes. It seems they are at a high energy state confused which side to disappear to.

Uneasiness surrounds me; I just kept my eyes closed. The walls started falling apart. Everything that I wrote, painted, scribbled or tried to encrypt on those walls thinking that this would not fade with time was all a myth. My analogies, my thoughts, my letters all were flying. May be this was what at last I wanted for them. To fly!

I can see my world, when I close my eyes. I see only what I want to, thus my world. Am I too late to understand that? Just like a caterpillar thinks before converting into a butterfly, what is this change going to do? More beauty, more freedom or just for the butterfly effect?

I believe in something doesn’t mean that I want it to be. I just want to believe in them.

Amen.

Satanicenthu!