O mighty pen! Bless me with some peace Bestow on me some solace Shower me with some fluidity That your ink prides itself on, That keeps you going over, above and through Sharpen me at least some, I won’t compete with your nib, my word, It is the point where old lovers meet Grant my backbone some Strength and audacity you abound with To stand … Continue reading A love story..!
What if the world is going the wrong way? Is it mandatory for me to do anything? Wouldn’t I be dead before the world dies? Do I owe something to my next generation? Will anything I do really make any difference? Will the difference be sufficient enough? Do I have what it takes? What else do I need? Am I studying, exercising, practicing … Continue reading Questions
I knew I was going to write A book on love, a book of love Almost a hundred years ago Its unwritten draft has been Luring and tempting me often In small scattered moments Moments that have been Difficult to capture and frame Fleeting and flying fast Moments weaving their way Through your smile, your frown Your dagger, your crown Moments … Continue reading Anniversary of togetherness
Write Erase Write Tear it up Write Burn it down Write Shatter the pen Write Sever the finger Write Soak up the blood Write Cut the arm Write Crack the limbs Write Mince the body Write Smash the skull Write Fry the brain Write Set it ablaze It? What is it? Nothing remains. Still.. Write… What is it that writes? still…?? – Makarand Continue reading What is it?
As the day ends I will rise and throw all these rubbish scraps of paper into the small fire still ablaze and they’ll burn won’t they? along with the words scribbled onto them like oppressive scars on the flawless skin sweet revenge will that be on words who malign the smooth blank faces of paper with their scary shapes and uncanny habits words that run … Continue reading Words, ghosts, fire
This is such a strange sensation. It is like running continuously without even stopping to breathe. Or like swimming underwater without an oxygen cylinder and mask and without surfacing for a long time. Or like going through the hordes of tasks without sleeping or eating or shitting or drinking or even listening to a piece of heavenly music. Or like…hell…let me at once make clear … Continue reading Quest
I am a chronicler. I write. I scribble. I see and I hear. I scratch and dabble. I seem them dying, more than living I see them crying, more than laughing I see them wasting more than they eat I see them buying more than they need Few ask questions and fewer explore People despise – them and the lore Priorities are almost … Continue reading Chronicler of Confusion