Mute God


Curly hair, big round eyes half roofed by his pupils, a sharp nose and an orange cloth draped around the body in a defined manner…God stood still in front of me. I mean his twelve feet idol did.

Just two days after the serial blasts had shattered the serenity of the sleepy town, I had a chance to visit the place. A vast greenery laden road on the both sides was the first welcoming sign of the small town. And so was the mountain range in distance, beyond the paddy farms…with cows browsing and birds chirping. A perfect bucolic sight!

Few feet away from the temple where blasts took place, I got down from the auto.  A very famous tourist place was greeting me. But there was something eerie about the place. It smelled of fear, disturbance and an awkward silence. It whispered to me a nervousness of locals around and a false sense of security being instilled in there. A place where people care to watch only one face…that is of the idol…was now sporting an odd number of people sitting there and reading my face as I walk with my bag-pack around.

And I look at God’s face. Calm, still and expressionless. He has always been like that. Over the centuries…he has maintained an air of calmness. Or indifference if I may say. I do not remember the day I became an atheist in the process of trying to understand God. The process that I horribly failed at. I failed to comprehend as to why God suddenly stopped showing up at the biggest party in Universe that he himself created – or that is what most of the religious ones preach us.

Even today the God stayed quiet and straight-faced to the dead bodies lying around. And mind you, most people have died in the name of religion, for religion and because of religion than anything else in the world so far. First to differentiate ourselves from animals, they created religions, they created rules and later on we found ourselves caged in it.

I wondered if there were any answers. And there indeed were, but disturbing ones. Disturbing because ignorance is bliss – ignorance of a possibility of having believed in something throughout the history of mankind, which probably never really existed. Those questions haunt every individual’s keen mind, but only few choose to be disturbed by those. Only few let their belief to be flirted with, rather than being shackled by the chains of blind faith.
The origin of life was never meant to be studied from ancient epics & manuscripts that did their job of ruling the herd of mankind over thousands of years. Origin of life was to be questioned, thought over and experimented rightly in the Large Hydrogen Collider as it is being done now. But then the question is – do you wish to follow what the masses do or let your mind do the independent thinking for a while?  Can let go of your imaginary friend and have only yourself to be praised or blamed at?

Because it does not take real genius for even kids to discover that, it is their parents who buy them gifts after reading the wish-list kids put in the socks on Xmas night. But then believing in an omnipotent Santa Claus is a much easier job to get what you want.

You, Me And the World War 3


The sound of gunshots has conquered the town,

Bombs are blowing it apart street by street.

Night is draping our city honey,

It is putting its mask of death onto it slowly.

News channels told me to stay inside the house,

And be with your family.

Danger lurking outside my door,

It felt melancholy to you suddenly.

There has come a day finally,

When we both figure out; there isn’t a way to meet our own selfish dreams.

The end is close and the night is long,

It is calling you out to be somebody’s.

You shall take a U-turn girl & come back to the same old place where we used to meet,

You shall moonwalk back in time baby,

Because you will find me there waiting.

We never could be the perfect two,

We never probably even wanted to be.

We are not the ‘two feeding each other at the town’s famous eatery’.

But we are what we need right now,

Because with you there isn’t anything to conceal.

I never feel naked a bit with my dark side stripped open,

When I feel you against me; when I have you with me.

And you are like my mirror,

My mirror that shows me, the remaining me.

Days are almost over now,

Let’s be together, for there couldn’t be another destruction-so sweet.

You tear down my heart and I will question your love for me.

We will back to what we are best at – our sweet old cruelty.

Because we’re the two pieces of jigsaw puzzle,

Made not for, but yet put together by a stubborn kid.

Trying to fit together, until the foolish child breaks us completely.

Broken that we are now, we can never fit anywhere sweetie.

Not for anyone else maybe, but for me you are the still the rest of me.

A sea of clouded thoughts


Think beyond your vacation once. Take a break as you ride your bike to the nearest beach, for there is an old house by the corner…kids playing on a muddy street by the lake. Look for familiar words in the language they speak. Share few smiles with strangers. And you’ll know that the place wants to speak. She wants to speak to you. Because she seeks someone, who is more than just a traveller. She longs for you to stay back, through the long night and not disappear by the dawn.

Goa is one place that smells the same, whichever day of the year it maybe. And it smells of happiness…a little sober…a little drunk one. An evening at a beach all by yourself turns out to be rather engaging. Because you are not truly sitting there all alone. You are kept company by the mammoth ocean in front, that convinces you into having a conversation with it. And the ocean doesn’t ask you any questions. He rather shares with you, the interesting conversations it had had once with the restless, lonely and yet enthralled minds that sat in its lap.

Countless thoughts these waves carry along as they kiss the shore and tickle your feet. Thoughts of romance, depression, attraction, hope and dreams form a star-studded sky that gets reflected above in the dark night. Footprints of those who once sat there, is their baggage they purposely left behind in the custody of ocean…taking him for granted. And he says nothing like a good old chap and shoves your dreams and worries into his deep pocket of waves. He simply smiles back.

You can listen to him talk…if you care enough to hear his voice over the sound of waves wrestling against each other. But do not look for him in there. Look for yourself in that sea of clouded thoughts. And you’ll see a lighthouse that shall guide you towards me.

Naked’ us



Waking up to my smartphone singing its routine alarm tune, I stretched my arms wide and rubbed my eyes.

Putting on a T shirt, I moved to the bathroom and picked up a tooth brush sitting near the wash-basin. And…I dropped it as soon as I picked it up. Because – I saw something bizarre right in front of me in the mirror – A heart holding a toothbrush in its hands. A heart that was Me. I shouted in a shock and so did the heart in the mirror.

It was me, after all. I was my own heart as I could see it. Just the way they show it in movies, a red coloured heart, but with hands and legs attached to it. I moved my hands and so did the Heart in the mirror. I turned right and so did it. I turned left and it was doing the same. I pinched myself twice and realised it wasn’t the dream one could wake up easily from.

I put on a jacket and left my house. Strolling down the street, I realised that my dream/real life had just got weirder with everyone around being in the shape of heart. Hearts had flooded the streets, hearts were riding bikes, driving cars and there were even hearts waiting at the bus stop.

Amazed I decided to get away from that scene and have some coffee at a nearby cafe around the corner. Taking a seat at the far corner of cafe, I ordered for my usual Irish coffee and took a look around.

There were booths with hearts sitting in a pair on one side of the booth. There were few single hearts standing near the counter, holding the mug of coffee in hands and occasionally giving an askance look at hearts-couples giggling. I saw how cheeks of hearts went up and down with every heart-beat they had.  Hearts that engaged in a public display of affection wore a pink jacket of affection, while the ones at counter were sporting a cloth of fake smiles. There were few hearts around me, who wore bandages which seemed like they must have been carrying them from a long time trying to cover their scars. Some hearts had lust dancing all over their faces, while some seemed divinely happy being alone, as they relished their early morning breakfast.
While I sipped my coffee; my colour went from red to maroon with thoughts of her memories melancholy to that coffee smell. I looked outside to spot some hearts walking hand in hand down the street.

I could see it all – Hearts that were smiling, hearts that watched others & felt envious, hearts that laughed out hard together and hearts that lived a peaceful time by breathing in fresh air after a long time.
Today we were all naked. Naked to each other, unlike every other day when our hearts are eclipsed by the shadow of our faces – faces with an expertise in depicting what we wish to. But, today we lived as we were. Today was the day when our logical brains & minds were sent off on a vacation afar. Hearts had come floating down the streets, because it had been long that we escaped the houses where we were trapped by our merciless brains.

I wondered which shade I turned into when I spotted her walking straight up to me. I smiled and told her frankly that I was more than happy to see her – because after all I was a Heart. I did not need to lie.

Not so Gay


What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you see two guys walking – hand in hand? “Gay”? Well, then you’re not in minority to think so. Majority of people would stereotype them so in the first glance.

But I would rather like to go for an old English dictionary meaning for the word ‘Gay’ here which says – someone who is carefree or cheerful.

If you did notice, it is more likely that the guys that you see walking on the street hand in hand; belong to the small towns. They’ll be strolling the streets and gazing at tall buildings kissing the sky, while keeping close to each other or to put it the other way, always staying together. We all travel to new places and the first thing we do is to try and get oriented to it. While we do so, we depend either on few of our relatives staying out there, or on our smartphone as it lets us connect to seemingly important people talking random things on online chat applications or we simply depend on money in our pocket to make our stay and travel comfortable.
But for these two guys, the only support probably is each other. Because they are Best friends after all. Now again that term is not limited to small towns. I agree. But try and answer this question in one word – who is your best friend? Most of us would say more than one. And we would buttresses our answer saying it is so because we move from place to place, change our college and switch jobs. But then let me take you back to your school days. And suddenly you’ll remember how easy it was to answer this question back then. You might also recall walking hand in hand with that best friend. We loved it, didn’t we? We were each other’s support. We could cover seemingly long distance walking together and not be afraid of armada of vehicles racing on the street. Because our hand was held tight by our best friend as we crossed the road together. That was innocence and purity of that friendship.

But somehow we couldn’t hold onto that hand and let the innocence go as we grew up. And contrary to us, those two guys managed to keep it. They never came out of that naive relation and therefore are not bothered by our stares at them. Although I may never get so comfortable walking along with my guy friend, least I could do is not stereotype people who do.