How to sustain meaningful relationships

Good Evening Planet

Before we begin, let’s revisit our understanding of a meaningful relationship. Predominantly there are two sorts of relationship. One is referred as therapeutic wherein you enjoy your time together and get healthy. The other one is based on a primate dominance hierarchy in which one party is a slave and the other one is a master. Such a relationship is mostly considered unhealthy and damaging.

Let’s pause for a moment. Prior to understanding complexities involving relationships and how to overcome them, we need to understand if and why we need them. New age kids have found a pseudo mechanism wherein relationships are replaced with short term acquaintance. Internet has brought people closer but feelings are as distant as they were in medieval ages. The first step towards an amicable solution is understanding the importance of a meaningful relationship. I am going to make a very strong statement – We need people. Yes! Irrespective of how relative we consider freedom of existence, we cannot be totally free from the basic genetic social component. Even a hermit is delighted with an occasional visitor and cherishes a disciple. In the same manner meaningful relationships nourish us as a human being and help us get better.

Now comes the most challenging part: How to sustain a relationship? I have met countless individuals who have great social skills and make friends easily but none of these relationships last longer than few months. One needs to wonder why?

Well, the problem sounds complex but the solution is too easy. We do not communicate. Communication means listening and then talking efficiently. Most of us in this fast paced world skip the first step. We do not listen. We wait for our turn to speak. Whenever we meet someone, our first goal is mostly to acquire dominance. We barely pay attention to what they are saying or feeling or expressing. We focus on putting our point across as quickly as possible. We are quick in brushing off their issues with remarks like – Ya I know, yup life’s difficult, shit happens, blah and blah and blah. What we fail to understand is we are actually minimizing their personal conflicts and making them feel petty. This in turn helps us feel better and we walk away from the conversation as a confident person. All we are doing is acting like a primate and giving way to our most basic primal urges.

relation.jpg

A better way would be listening and trying to learn from the other person. Each individual would have at least one new thing to offer us, if we listen. We can always ask questions to seek clarity. We can always paraphrase. Instead of being on top of the conversation we can stay in the conversation and after few of such sessions; both the individuals would have a healthy flow of ideas. So if you really want to have a meaningful relationship unlike baboons : Listen.

That would be all folks!

How to deal with procrastination

Good Morning Planet

Waking up is always the most important part of the day. You wake up, you look around, you find everything you care about is falling apart. You prefer going back to bed. Your stomach growls, makes some noises, you grab some leftovers with a little booze and stuff it inside. You are aware stuffing in or not – nothing would ever change. You feed yourself because you do not have the constitution to starve yourself to death. You further intoxicate yourself to numb your senses. You indulge in a handful of other escape phenomenon – watching tv shows, playing video games, mastrubating; then you go back to bed. Sounds like an ideal day!

A little more productive day would be maybe working for a corporation while you are zoned out. You are there, you are present physically but your soul keeps on wandering off in the gallows of nothingness. Not that I am questioning your lifestyle but what if I can suggest you a better alternative?

Your life is perfect. You are a philosopher. You are not an average Joe. You are the most unique Joe. You belong to the long list of awakened souls – nihilists. Any action you take has no meaning so you prefer not to give a fuck. That’s my philosophy too. I am pretty aware that the less you care, the simpler is your life. The only challenge with this philosophy is – you cease to exist. There is no hope for a better tomorrow and no longing for a missed yesterday. Not that it matters but a little hope isn’t that bad.

So, here a working model for a better tomorrow suited for nihilists-

  • Stop punishing yourself: The world was, is and would always remain an ugly place. There is absolutely nothing anyone can do to make things better. What you can do is make it bearable for yourself and people around. So, the first step is stop punishing yourself. You are suffering and more suffering wouldn’t ease your misery.
  • Find a goal: Easier said than done, I know but it’s essential. While figuring for a long term goal develop micro habits. Get up and make your bed. Clean your room. Those empty walls around you have committed no crime. Cover those naked walls with some paintings, quotes, inspiring celebrity posters, whatever turns your crank. Cook your breakfast. Wash your clothes.
  • Measure your success: You would fail. Not once, not twice, countless times but remember whenever you fail, you never begin from the first step, you only repeat the last step, hence technically you didn’t fail. Someday you would succeed and you would feel better.

All said and done, the reality would still remain the same. This world is an ugly place and it would continue to haunt you till your last breath. It’s your choice how to look at it. It’s your choice how to interact with it. Whether you want to numb yourself or feel the occasional joy amidst tons of sorrow, choose wisely.

Procrastination.jpg

Dark Times

Dark ages wasn’t so bad after all

They used to hunt beautiful witches

Brave men were crucified

Kids were burnt alive

Pagans killed the one who believed

Vikings were made to praise Christ

Women were whored against their will

Elders were beaten, Poor were frowned

They all had a void inside

They fought brutally before their kings died

No amount of women

No weight of gold

Ever quenched a barren soul

Those unknown to own truth

Jostle around with nothing to find 

Pm3-Patrick-Piazza-Joseph-Hillstroms-Ghost-600x400.jpg

Now they have government, television, religion

Military, police, a society with class division

Robbery, rape, infanticide, murder, terrorism

Assailants, gurus, a society with lame vision

Dark ages wasn’t so bad after all

Times were changing

Now nothing is static

Everything is falling apart

It’s appalling

 

Where does charity go?

Dear Brothers and Sisters of Democratic Nations,

Today we all happily live in our humble, yet comfortable adobes and proudly enjoy the love of our family and friends. We all have access to basic amenities of life and we make the most out of it. Our children very proudly march to the national anthem in their respective educational institutions. Long Live our countries and Long Live our children. May God always be merciful on us and keep on blessing us with his gift of love.

We all are not just decent but also great human beings. We take care of our youngers and elders equally. We lead a happy and blissful life. We also make sure that we contribute towards the good of society and most of us enthusiastically participate in social and charitable events.

I wanted to wish all of you a very happy and blissful life ahead. May we all flourish equally.

Despite of our good nature most of us are either oblivious to the injustice towards the poor, needy, oppressed, minority, women and kids or choose not to engage in such depressing conversations. I am completely with you in your point of view because I used to cultivate similar thoughts.

We are a part of a capitalist society where the principle of existence is based on making money. We need to be at par with the changes of times, if we wish to lead happy lives. I understand your need to become rich and I would not demean it by labelling you greedy. We all have our dear ones to feed and clothe. We need to extravagantly marry our sisters and daughters to socially display our love towards them. Even as cavemen we had the desire to own homes and what’s wrong to own a fancy, comfortable roof. In the end, we all want better lives for ourselves and our families.

 We celebrate festivals, birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, even death at times. We make sure we proudly donate to our corporate endorsed 13 charitable organizations who very proudly claim to be helping animals, children, people and literacy. We also donate billions of dollars annually to religious institutions. Even your little one’s never shy away from leaving $1 in the charity boxes outside temples, mosques, and churches. All this money comes out from your banks debited by the goodness inside your hearts.

Today I just wanted to ask a question.

Where does all this money go?

AS far as I remember the poor were poor and the needy were needy and the oppressed were oppressed and the women were victims and the children were abandoned, when I was 7 years old. I used to cry a lot seeing them suffer. I am 27 years old now. It’s been 20 years watching people suffer and trillions of dollars donated to end their sufferings. Surprisingly they still suffer and oddly I still cry, each morning, every afternoon, evenings and before I attempt a failed sleep.

It’s beyond my reasoning to understand this degree of failure of these so called charitable and religious institutions.

IMG_20170814_212610_880
A BrokenRadio initiative for underprivileged children

We, BrokenRadio run an online blog majorly focussing on making the world a better place.

www.brokenradio.blog.

Due to our revolutionary unbiased take on social issues funding has started pouring in from across the globe.

As much delighted we were because of such overwhelming support, initially, our spirits were crushed when we realized that these funding are either religiously or politically motivated. As much as we want to help people, we cannot indulge in blood money. Religions breed hatred and kill people. Governments thrive on fear and enslave people.

We the people demand free the people.

If any of you good souls wish to stop contributing to the failed charitable and religious institutions, we would happily engage in your small contribution. Any little support towards this bigger cause would be highly appreciated.

We want to change the world and we want to make it a better place, for our children. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and Alexander the great had a fleet. We are powerless without your support. We would encourage you to contact us with selfless funding assistance. In return, we would show you how powerful is a smile of a needy and how fake is the society endorsed by those who are greedy. Hope for your assistance.

Have a great day and may your children have a better tomorrow.

nishantnishit@outlook.com

Insomnia

IMG_20170819_074630

And her thought striked

Once again, last midnight

She leaves me be

When I think of dying

The moment my heart pumps blood

My socket of eyeballs starts crying

Lost in oblivion

She never nears

The moment I smile

She never bears

All the directions

Nine fathoms Deep

I got no dope

How the fuck do I sleep!

Closed eyes see her face

Open eyes menace

Go away go away

Lover, I got nothing to say

Go away, with your false bundle of joy

IMG_20170819_074605

 

Nothing is Static

Screenshot_20170817-181933

She moved slowly, towards him
With a definite pace
He moved slowly, away from her
With a chaotic pace
They moved closer with a sway
They parted away with decay
Everything is falling apart
Nothing is static
It’s appalling

Screenshot_20170817-181148
Those smiles faded
Lame cries echoed
No one to cheer
Souls lack the ability to hear
Those painful cries wrapped in love
Shut down feelings
Everything is falling apart
Nothing is static

Screenshot_20170817-181117
She smiled for a last night
Tears rolled down those pale cheeks
Salty are her bleeding lips
Blood dried between open legs
Nothing is static
Everything is falling apart

Screenshot_20170817-181832.png

It’s appalling 
She would go to find a new home
Today! This day!
The end; She said⁠⁠⁠⁠


Pics credit: Felisha

Loneliness

I was looking out the window

The green pastures smelled of spring

The raindrops held the leaves firmly

While they slowly dropped dead on the ground

There was none around me

No one to make a sound

I hate noise; it breeds turmoil

But today I felt the need of someone, anyone to be around

A tear struggled hard before rolling down the corner of my left eye

That’s when I realized

I got no one to call mine

I picked a pen and a paper

But the ink got laden with salty water rain

The paper turned RED

I got no idea

How much I bled!

I got no idea

How much I bled!

I guess, A pint of blood would be an understatement

tumblr_oijubvB6uV1u2hzvzo1_500.jpg

Celestial Time Shift

IMG_20170810_075951_420

I prefer staying indoors

I cherish isolation

When I look out the window

I see the vibrant ugliness

When I close my eyes

I see you and my soul cries

The tears drown my dry eyeballs

I roam around in empty halls

Looking for traces of lost memories

You are what I found

When I burnt everything around

Down to the ground

I won’t step out

I won’t let the world destroy my cherished memories

That’s the only learning

You my only earning

You my immense wealth

My prized possession

A bundle of joy

Of the times we spent together

Staring into each other eyes

Saying things we never said

In mid of a celestial time shift

IMG_20170810_075022_447

Kashmir: A Heavenly Cemetery

It was the Persian poet Amir Khusru who referred to Kashmir as a paradise on earth. There is an old stone plaque in, Shalimar Gardens, which proclaims “Agar Firdaus bar rōy-e zamin ast, hamin ast-o hamin ast-o hamin ast,” meaning “If there is a paradise upon earth, it is here, it is here, it is here“.

It is also mentioned that when Jahangir was asked on his deathbed about his cherished desire he is credited to have said:

“Kashmir, the rest is worthless”

Well, reading such great poetic words:

Always I wondered

How could one term a piece of land heaven

It baffled me for ages

Why do poets write such praises

After all it’s just a land, few trees, few mountains

A valley blessed with decades of unrest

Lost peace as a concept

A land once white as snow

Now has traces of blood 

On every leaf which has the mettle to grow

A land trampled by army boots and assault rifles

A land filled with widows, staring out the windows

Bleeding for someone long gone

A land whose kids wish a life at dawn

Return home clad in white, powered by saffron

What’s so special about a ruined town?

Why is it a talk among the nations around?

Well, I never knew what ‘beautiful’ meant

Until I set foot on Kashmir’s heavenly ground

A land blessed by Allah himself

A heaven with gunfire in the background

A heaven with bleeding, dying children in a mound

Throats choked with tear gas and smoke

Unable to make any sound

A heaven destroyed brutally

By you and me collectively

Absence makes the heart grow Fonder

e8c86f1f938a7c85dc2c1f0ed91e70bf-101615.jpg

Yesterday night, the moon and the stars shone bright

The galaxy was alive, while I held you tight

And you slipped, like sand through my fingers

The clocks on the walls became motionless

While I secretly stole, few stars from your hair, tucked behind your right ear

I know someone else owns them, but ain’t finders, keepers

You belong to someone else but I never wanted to keep things

For myself!

I do want you to dance with me

But you prefer dying alone

I wish I could leave you be

But every morning, you & me

Need to travel to save those dying stars

You might but I can’t do it alone

Whoever you choose to spin with, on the dance floor

Whoever you wrap your arms around

The song would always be made of my broken words

The music would always be mine

The less you see of me

The more you would miss me, staring at you

With blank, silent eyes, laden with unsaid speech

I wanted to lie next to you

But haunting you in your dreams, works just fine

What the world fails to understand

Is, whoever you choose to dance with

Lover, you belong to me, You are mine

You would always be mine

I certainly miss the kiss, which I could not dare to steal

But then again, there’s always tomorrow, there’s always a fucking tomorrow!

Screenshot_20170803-224612

The Green Plant & The Lady in Red

IMG_20170802_101844
Grab Classy Sequin Wall Canvas – Lady in Red  www.grabclassy.com

 It rained last night

The stars were dull

The moon was gloomy

Her eyes shone bright

She flew kites, all her last days and all those lovely nights

She felt free, roaming around 

With a bear trap, chained to her leg

rattling the ground, as she walked and trampled and moved

This morning, the green plant caught her gaze

She got confused, she got dazed

The earth around was barren

Though her last night was brazenly wet

She looked at the green plant

The plant looked back

Staring he saw, his lovely lady in red

the plant bled, the plant bled

And the land around, blossomed

The lady in red stood motionless

She couldn’t see; hear no sound

Her heart skipped few beats

All she heard was a pointless rhythmic beating of few punctured valves

Lub-Dub Lub-Dub Lub-Dub Lub-Dub Lub-Dub

The lady in red, went back to her bed; she had witnessed enough rain for the season

IMG_20170802_103643.jpg

 

The Rain and The Song

2E5C180A00000578-3314643-image-a-50_1447291405249.jpg

Brutally raining it was

In the middle of night when I paused

The waking dream of haunting past woke me up

my dried throat demanded a sup

My music player played a melody song

the sweetness of your voice; My soul felt the throng

Back to the time when we would be lovers

In a jiffy the period so long recapitulates

feeling the words that your lips tremble to utter

In the dark of these rainy nights

Baby, I want to feel the warmth of your breath on my neck

The song drowned me even deeper

Into a time where I would caress her

The lyrics appears lucid

corners of my memories bruised

Those haunting memories forces rolling tears

reminding me of a loss my soul bears

But I pick up my shattered pieces

I shrug off the daunting past

for there is no reason to steadfast

Our troubled times together

no longer offer, pain or respite

A day comes and you are a distant memory

I can’t even remember your face; you might

I want to thank you for the lessons taught

for the loyalty and gains that I had sought

Today my shackled self is free

like a bird on a sprouting spring tree

The rain and the song tried their best to drag me back

unshackling the chains I ran and ran, until I eluded the sack!

Malik Umar

Srinagar, Kashmir

 

Sale & Offers

Dear Customer,

Today, we, your trusted brand, would like to thank you for being such an ass-it (asset) for our brand…Not only do you enjoy our, over-priced, unaffordable, unreal, not at all necessary, goods but you also extend the courtesy of  flaunting it to your friends…In the silly hope that this activity in turn would help your garner appreciation…We always appreciate your stupidity…In order to celebrate such degree of  enlightenment, we your friendly, trusted brand has slashed our prices by 50%, terms and conditions applied, sale only on old stock, no returns and no refunds, no exchange either… This 50% discount is just for you and the dream just doesn’t end here… It gets better..The moment  you buy 5 goods and more, let me remind you at only 50% of it’s original price, you then, my friend, would be entitled to win a coupon… This coupon would not be provided to everyone but only and only to you, because you bought 5 garments or more, that too for flat 50% …

This coupon is your lucky break which you have been waiting since ages…Trust us as we are your friendly, trusted brand… This coupon would allow you to win, a car, a house and a lovely wife…Yes, a wife, we said it…You do not have to shrug your shoulders in disbelief…We do have a collection of lovely, needy wives whom we would happily like you to enjoy…So you see how much we care about you….We offering you, a once in a lifetime offer, to make all your dreams come true and that offer comes with a free coupon…and in order to get that coupon, all you have to do, is to buy 5 items or more from your trusted, friendly brand at 50% off….

There you go it’s an exclusive offer…mind it…today till 5pm only…

Rush to your nearby store! Keep your credit card handy! You may also visit our website but entire collection not available online. And remember, when you shop, the world gets better.

Happy Shopping Fucker!

Plastic Jesus

Good evening, dear Friend!

Today is the luckiest day of your lifetime…Today you would receive a gift, greater than mankind…This gift would change the way you see yourself…You would no longer feel any pain, any suffering…The gift would set you free…You would be able to buy goods, eg: cars, clothes, houses, boats; speedy one and the one which floats, motorbikes, super kites, sleepless nights, once again, you would feel sane and young ..You no longer would have grey hair,  you can visit expensive salons and get essential beauty treatments… Everyone in the dazzling malls would like your shine and you would come home and fuck your wife, while she finishes her wine.. the same wine which you would get because of the gift,

you are about to receive!

These are the little things, let me skip to the most appealing part…In times of dire stress, we cover your front and back, we would also make this gift earn you some reward points, which then combined by many other reward points, which you would earn after spending thousands of dollars, would then add up to $1 that would be donated to help the starving and the poor…..That gift my friend is here…

Open the box…It’s a gift from your trusted, friendly, banker….

Yikes, It’s fucking credit card…..Shit!

6.jpg

This looks ugly!

This looks ugly!

Childhood is a curious stage of our lives. We encounter with and learn to deal; an entirely, never felt before, fresh set of feelings. Feelings unknown to self! Feelings which our enslaved consciousness is conditioned to consider, prohibited!

Each incident, we experience in our lives, both small and huge, is always unique, in it’s own flimsy way.  Each experience adds knowledge to our vast data base. Though our minds have been tamed by targeted, suppressive, behaviour training, by widely regarded institutions, we still have a crude, primal being, inside, wriggling in pain, searching for truth. The truth of our existence, which is hidden, behind all those, numerous, false stories, we tell us and the world, each morning and every night.

Growing up was fun. The solo objective of Nik’s days were not to get caught. You need to tread carefully, if you want to experience fun, for longer periods. Getting caught can change the equation and dampen your free spirits. Hence, Follow the rules and break them, when no one’s watching! That was his motto of life during those days.

Are you crazy? You want us to skip college, in order to, watch some movie, you find fascinating! Do you want to get us expelled?‘ shouted Max, as loud as his lungs allowed. He made sure, he displayed emotions of anger, using his facial expressions. Conversations, both friendly and unfriendly, are more impactful when proper display of emotions is added.

‘Not some movie, that is where, you are entirely wrong. The movie is named – Fight Club, based on the novel by the same name. This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time. ‘Your’ being the highlight of the moment. It’s your life, your time, your mistakes, your decisions, your contemplation, again, your mistakes and your failures. So you can decide whether you would like to use your time in order to understand something, larger than your petty life or you choose to follow, mundane, set guidelines of your so-called educational institution.’

And Nik continued preaching his philosophy –

“The essence of our educational system is to help us learn the art of making money. This in itself is a flawed concept, as money is a reward for success. Instead of learning, the art of making money, we should be learning how to identify and nurture our passions. Passion fuels our success, which in turn, generates, money, as a bi-product……You are advised to borrow money from financial institutions to achieve your temporary goals which are determined, not by you but by different, failed institutions of society, eg: Family, Schools, Colleges, Government, Corporations, Temples, Mosques and churches…

You need stuff! A big fucking television, an Iphone, a luxury car, a DSLR, social networking presence, celebrations in bars, branded clothing, matching footwear, planned vacations, tax benefits and a place to call home. Now, the world knows, you cannot buy any of these, without being successful. Even if your parents hand it to you, you would not be able to enjoy, the fruits of nothingness. Hence we got banks! They are such nice institutions that they offer you assistance, to buy your dreams, on easy installments. Welcome to the corporate endorsed world where happiness sells on billboards and if you find happiness expensive, your friendly banker would loan you money, which then you can pay back, till you die, of course, using an easy, payback, monthly, installment plan, which you are free to choose from many plans.

Sip a coffee, Drink a cola, You just sold yourself!


This excerpt is from Nishant’s – Broken Radio – Novel. This book is not for those who believe in happily ever after tales. It’s brilliantly creepy, violent and extremely offensive in nature. It preaches a cult philosophy against an emasculating consumerist culture.

The story is a brilliant mix of transgressed elements held together by dirty realism. It focuses on characters who feel confined by the norms and expectations of society and who break free of those confines in unusual or illicit ways. Because they are rebelling against the basic norms of society, protagonists may seem mentally ill, anti-social, or nihilistic. The book deals extensively with taboo subject matters such as drugs, sexual activity, violence, pedophilia and crime.

Read – Broken Radio (Novel)

Daunting Past

Good Morning Planet

Today we are going to talk about ‘Past’. Dictionary definition being – ”gone by in time and no longer existing.” It is important, to understand, past, as it’s an imperative variable in the equation of our lives. Throughout our lives, we mostly, see ourselves through our memories of the past.

Now, with the advent of science, it has been proven that memories are not at all a reliable source of information. We human beings deal with emotions in a very complicated manner. We keep things to ourselves and we say things, we do not mean. The society is mostly a cluster of people who either wish to lead or wish to be lead. The leader exercises control to experience gratification of power and the led ones cheerfully witness exploitation to experience gratification of a false sense of security.

Due to such restricted approach, we do not clearly remember anything. We either modify it, in terms that help us feel better. Or, we plainly choose to forget. So mostly, memories are a way, we repeat a lie to ourselves. The more we think about a past event, the more likely it is that, we start believing our own set of lies. We create these lies for temporary gratification. But revisits, by our subconscious, restores the profound clarity.

Hence, we do not remember the truth and act on false cluster of facts. This mostly sets us to experience personal failure.

Now, the remedy, is not to purely trust your instincts while indulging in defining, decision making. Your instincts are a stimuli response of your subconscious, based on your lies, hence it’s unreliable. Inviting suggestions is another way of being led. So, you cannot act on anyone’s suggestions. The only proven alternative to achieve success is by experiencing failure. Yes, I am saying – make mistakes!

The more number of times you would fail, the higher are the chances of success in your future attempts. Gear yourself up, for repeated failures, so that you live and learn in present and not follow your life’s past pattern of failures, you fail in a new manner, each morning, everyday, Fail! And then you might experience – Success.

Stop living in the past. To create a beautiful tomorrow, Die today!

Gun & Marriage licence!

Broken Radio

Nishant


Pillow talk is an essential bonding activity in a relationship. The less tenured is a relationship, the more impactful are pillow talks. It has been two years, now, since Dia and Nik moved in together but their love is still as potent, as it was, the first night. 

They make sure that the fire doesn’t burn down. Dia sits on Nik’s lap while he continues to shower her with nimble kisses. He loves licking her skin, with his tongue. He starts from her neck and continues going till her belly button, pauses for a second and then glides from her bellybutton to her thighs, till her toes.

‘Are you planning to eat me? You never get tired. Do you? You horny fuck,’ Dia says.
‘You can stop me, when, you want to. Why don’t you stop me?’ asks Nik.
‘I don’t want to.’

After burning some more calories Nik proposes, ‘Hey sweetie pie, we have been together for long and surprisingly, it’s working out, let’s get married.’
Dia gets surprised on hearing Nik talk about marriage.
You hate marriages,’ she enquires.
Yes, in principle, I do but I want to, spend the rest of my life, with you!’

You know, I can’t get married to a non-Muslim. It’s a sin for me,’ she states blatantly.

And what about this? Is this not a sin?’ he says while his hands, play, with her breasts. She moans in pleasure and whispers,

There are sins which can be forgiven and there are some which cannot. Sleeping with you makes me a sinner but I still would get forgiveness. Marrying a Kaffir is haraam. No forgiveness there
‘You and your beliefs, never made sense to me. You do know, you are twisting facts?’
How come you don’t believe in anything?’ asks Dia, in order to deflect.

‘I believe in nature. I do believe, in the universe. I believe in Kabir, Krishna, Mira, Jesus, Prophet but not as gods, as Rock stars. They were original Rock stars. They had long hair, their own bands, their original tunes; they had groupies, and they held concerts. I do believe in something and that is pretty straight. Not at all twisted!’

‘You and your beliefs never made sense to me,’ Dia says while biting him on his neck and they laugh.
They continue indulging in each other while Nik manages to convince Dia, that if it’s all the same to her, they should get married; If not a real one, then just, as an, interesting activity! ‘Let’s get married for fun!’
Nik pleads for hours, before, Dia agrees to take it as a fun activity and together they march to a registrar’s office. They dress fancy and enter the offices of  –                                                                                          ‘Gun & Marriage licence.’          

        They wait, there, for a while. Nik wore his happy face.
A clerk asks them to come to the desk.
‘Gun license would be ready in two hours. Marriage licenses take a week. What are you here for?’ asks the clerk.
I need a license,’ replies Nik.
Which model?
Oh no! I don’t need it for a gun. I need it to get married,’ says Nik.

The clerk looks at him, then looks at Dia, then looks at both of them and points his finger, towards few forms. ‘Fill these forms and come after a week!
Nik wanted to get married the same day.

I want this to be done by today’s evening. I can pay you extra, if that would help,’ he pleads. ‘I wish. Marriages, take time, my friend. Go for a gun instead. I would get you a licence by evening’ answers the clerk, sadly.

Dia looks at Nik, and they both burst into laughter. They leave, from that office and go to a nearby ice-cream parlour. 

Eating ice cream, together, is an essential bonding activity in a relationship. Nik loved vanilla and Dia loved strawberry. They order a two in one.


Source: Broken Radio(novel by Nishant). This book is not for those who believe in happily ever after tales. It’s brilliantly creepy, violent and extremely offensive in nature. It preaches a cult philosophy against an emasculating consumerist culture.

The story is a brilliant mix of transgressed elements held together by dirty realism. It focuses on characters who feel confined by the norms and expectations of society and who break free of those confines in unusual or illicit ways. Because they are rebelling against the basic norms of society, protagonists may seem mentally ill, anti-social, or nihilistic. The book deals extensively with taboo subject matters such as drugs, sexual activity, violence, pedophilia and crime.

Read Broken Radio – Novel

Untitled design (2)

What we talk, when we talk, about, Love! – Act II

Good Morning Planet

It’s a bright, sunny morning, here in the BrokenRadio Studios, and we bring you ACT II of

“What we talk, when we talk, about, Love!”

Act I – What we talk, when we talk, about, Love!


BrokenRadio Theaters present, to you, a play written by Khadija (You think You know) & Nishant (Broken Radio).

Act II – Begins,

( The stage is brightly lit with various performers dancing in the background. Nik is standing on the stage with few pages in his hand. He has, his reading glasses, on. The music fades away..performers continue dancing. Nik addresses the audience)

Curtains Rise!

(Crowd cheers. Loud Applause)

Understanding The Rise in Skies & the Fall on Earth

Nik : The title in itself, is enigmatic. The poetess is comparing two cosmic events. One being Eid and other falling in Love. The poetess talks about a confused and unsure kind of love, that is really rare and yet the most captivating. (He comes forward on the stage)  The protagonist to whom the poetess address as the ‘Dark Prince‘… is a great admirer of her and is madly in love with her. As much, as the poetess tries not to develop similar feelings, she does get smitten, eventually. Mostly, the poem talks about their secret encounters and exchange of words.. What poetess envies the most is when she experiences cosmic love, the Dark Prince is not their celebrating the rise in the sky; Eid.. As much as the poetess hates it, she’s willing to give him another chance as she too is hopelessly in love. (Nik throws the pages in air)
 But then again, who knows poetry.. It’s always, what’s not said, never, what is.

(Lights fade out. The background changes itself back to the Act I setting. Nik removes his reading glasses. Kate walks in)

Kate: Brilliant job. You scored an A. Although, it isn’t the true derivation entirely.

(Moves forward on the stage and addresses the audience)

Well, the rise in the sky and fall on the earth shows, how you take me high in the skies and then throw me down on the ground. I experience a bliss in a moment and in the next, you abandon me mercilessly. When the world spoke about us, You said; my destiny walked into my door. My pride and your ego clashed and doomed were we. Then one night we met again after your endless efforts of getting me back. And we celebrated the festival like it was the last Eid on earth. You said – it’s us against the world, give me time, cope with me.

(The stage fills itself with mystic silence. We could hear loud breathing.)

Nik: (murmurs slowly to himself) There was silence in the air. All three of us were breathing heavily. Me, her and Johnnie Walker. (Nik walks away from Kate and continues murmuring)  I am jealous of this Dark Prince, Kate dedicated a poem for him! (Looks at a picture of another women) The only lines she ever dedicated to me was – “I am nobody’s fool” and it took me weeks to understand, what it really meant.

Kate: Life was perfect!

Nik: (walks near Kate) Well, let me dedicate my prayers for your eternal, blissful, family stamped, first love. If this doesn’t see a happy ending, then love should, atleast, not be in dictionary and books should paint it black, with dark ink.

Kate: That’s so accurately put. This is not love, though! (pauses for a moment, looks lost in memories) I don’t know, what love is.. 

Nik: What is it, then? I have no clue, what love is! Truly, Sincerely, Please tell me.

(The performers swarm the stage and start dancing rigorously, there is no music, playing, in the background)

Kate: It’s hard to express. Maybe 10000 pages or maybe less! Why are you, so intent to know the definition of love?

Nik: I need to write about love and I have not, ever, experienced it. Hence the curiousity. I want to know, what love is!

Kate: (looks at him for a moment, lovingly, addresses the audience) Love is divine, it makes you experience the most extreme emotions that you were oblivious of. But it’s got one and only one rule; You have to forget self love and even if you can’t, have, your love, for yourself, forever, smile and be grateful for the memories and experiences. Love does not mean achieving. Love needs no labels, no possessions, no ownership. You welcome it’s arrival, with a smile, and then you let it go, with a smile. (looks at Nik and continues) So, If your fav doll is lost, don’t cry, rather cherish the moment you had with it and live life.

Nik: That does make a lot of sense, Miss. But, I need a clarification. I guess, in our lifetime, we experience love more than once. So is their something also called – True Love? Or it’s the same every time!

Kate: (addresses the audience) I don’t know, that’s an interesting question. According to me, love is just once, But that does not mean it seals your fate. You carry on and live life, settle for someone really charming, who makes you happy.

Nik: (looks at Kate) Would you care to know my thoughts? (Doesn’t wait for her response and continues, addresses the audience) To understand love, we need to understand time. (dancers in the background are not at all performing in sync, each artist seems to be following their own steps, the stage suddenly gets chaotic, lights flicker) 

There is past, present and future. Past is all memories and Future is entirely imagination. So, what matters is now! Present matters. Not what happened a moment ago, not what might happen next, No fear, no assumption, Just now – living in the moment. (Goes near Kate) What are you doing now? (she thinks, he doesn’t wait for her response and continues speaking to the audience) Right now…right fucking now…She is experiencing release of adrenaline and dopamine, look at her, how happy she seems (there is a sadness on Kate’s face) We are experiencing effects of tiny pills laced with love. (Nik comes to the edge of the stage and yells)

There is no absolute love. That is a cosmic event.. Barely happens.. I am trying to recreate, but still it takes ages.. This is day to day love.. What people call love, when they talk about love. What humanity needs to experience, is, Cosmic love. Feeling of being around even during absences.. Dreams.. Mutual dreams.. You communicate without words. You close your eyes and your partner feels you missing them…
Love is not necessarily both sided.. Moon and the sea try and hug each other, failing, every full moon night..When the moon is completely naked.. That’s the love I talk about. That’s the love I want to experience. I want to know what love is!

Kate: (holds his hand) Look at us, making a failed attempt at defining love..

(They both stare into each other eyes. Curtains Fall, Crowd goes crazy, Crowd whistles among the loud thud)

Play Ends.


Whoa! That was something. Huh? Let me make breakfast, she would be awake soon. You enjoy your friendly Tupperware! Have a nice day.

What we talk, when we talk, about, Love!

 

Good Evening Planet

It’s a lovely evening, indeed. There is a dazzling, shimmering, reason behind this love, in the evening. Yesterday morning, I released the first chapter of my 2nd book – Smokes & Strings – Boulevard of Broken Art. It’s a love story. A twisted one.

I had my doubts, because, what do I know? I, have, never been in love. I just experienced what television sold, not the books…the Television. I went out on dates in shopping malls, bought gifts and had sex. It did seem like love, back then. Now, I am a grown up. I no longer watch television. I only read books and I only talk to writers. And, I want to know what love is…..

I asked my friend, Khadija Fatima – Author of You Think You Know ,”Do you know, what love is?” She sent me a poem. The Rise in Skies & the Fall on Earth. But then we all know, we need to figure out ART. It’s always ”what’s not said” and never, ”what is”.

So, I made some failed attempts to understand it and finally gave up. I, then again, asked her to explain….And we both ended up writing this play….


Ladies and Gentlemen, Tonight’s entertainment is a play about love, loss, pride, humility and then, love, again. BrokenRadio Theatres Present, to you, a play written by Khadija (You think You know) and Nishant (Broken Radio) .

PicsArt_07-12-11.30.47

Act I – Begins,

Lift the curtains!

(Crowd Cheers, Loud applause, A remarkably thin male is sitting on a stool, in front of a stunningly beautiful female. They both are in their prime youth and seem very cheerful. The entire stage is lit with bright lights, with no gloominess in any corner, apart from, in the eyes of, both the protagonists)

Nik: How are we doing today, Kate. What are we doing?

Kate: Heya! Ahh been occupied. I had company. Now, was enjoying my alone time, and then you walked in and sat, there, right, on that stool.

Nik: Well, if anyone would have such a delightful company as you, blessed are those few.

Kate: Ain’t you guys just too nice.

Nik: Well, you pay me to be nice. I think, I should get at least twice the amount you pay me, because, of the time I invest in you . Your project, I mean!

Kate: Oh, I didn’t know, I pay you to be nice.

Nik: Yeah, a very unfair amount though but then there are other perks which I truly enjoy.

Kate: You are funny! (Sarcastically)

Nik:  I am serious, always. It’s, you, who somehow induce humor in my deadbeat words.
And I guess, glamor, too.

Kate: Yes, glamor, I agree cause I just love it. We’re both sarcastic.

Nik: I am not. Talk about yourself, Lady! (pauses, clears throat) You are the friendliest ‘client’, I ever had the pleasure to service. Never met someone with your potential, in this, big, bad, round, uneven, world. 

(A smiles spreads on Kate’s face and the black and white lights change to a rainbow)

And, that smile, That’s, what makes my days, and evenings, and someday, other periods of my long, lonely, lazy, mundane, days.

Kate: My goodness. I think, I’m done with compliments. 

Nik: (stammers) Oh, Okay, no more for today, then. (Pauses for a second. Dramatic music plays in the background, for a second. Music stops) Glad, I have nothing to say about your, yesterday’s picture. It just made me speechless.

Kate: (blushes) Oh, about that, I think, I was too happy yesterday since everyone loved my poem. So, hence the glow. (Comes closer, and whispers in his ears) Even, in the theatre people were staring madly. (Pulls her face back and continues talking). So, Yeah, partial credit goes to you for publishing it. And my makeup of course 😸 I love shimmer!

Nik: (Comes closer, and stares in her eyes) The stares were all for you, so, you deserve the credit. (lights go dim, girl bows down) Shimmer, loves, being on you. (pulls her closer) You think, you know, let me tell you something, Ignorance is bliss. 

icelandic-dance

(Lights are back. It’s just a white, bright light. Nik and Kate adjust their seats, the moment lights, change color. There is a chaotic silence on the stage. The background music is of an animal being choked to death. The music gets louder. Nik stands up. Kate pulls her chair farther away from him.)

Kate: (coldly, her voice comes from far to the audience) So, what could you make from the poem? 

Nik: (Addresses the audience) And the poetess wants to know… What, the commoner sees… Okay! 

(looks at her and continues)

Understanding, The Rise in Skies & the Fall on Earth ….

The stage drifts away from behind, from beneath, his feet. The background metamorphoses into an old, dusty, rusty, library. Kate exits the scene. Nik wears reading glasses. And the curtains fall…Crowd cheers..) 

ACT I – Ends


Hope, you guys enjoyed reading this, as much as we enjoyed writing. BrokenRadio would return with the second act, soon enough. Grab a smoke for now. Will ya!

The Rise in Skies & the Fall on Earth

Good Evening Planet

An adrenaline junkie is somebody who engages in sensation-seeking behavior through “the pursuit of novel and intense experiences without regard for physical, social, legal or financial risk”. Such activities include extreme and risky sports, substance abuse, unsafe sex, and crime. The term relates to the increase in circulating levels of adrenaline during physiological stress.

Dopamine is another profound chemical. The effects of dopamine include increases in heart rate, body temperature, and sweating; improvements in alertness, attention, and endurance; increases in pleasure produced by rewarding events; but at higher doses agitation, anxiety, or even loss of contact with reality.  Stimulants such as nicotine, cocaine and methamphetamine promote increased levels of dopamine.

Only a handful of addicts are aware that ART induces a combination of both adrenaline and dopamine. This evening a dear friend of mine, Author – Khadija FatimaYou think You know, made me read one of her poems. Well, I am high on her words ; A perfect blend of two of the planet’s most profound chemical.

As much as I wanna save this drug for myself, I cannot deprive the world from such beautiful poetry. So, Ladies & Gentlemen, this terrific evening, Broken Radio presents you, an original poem by Miss Khadija Fatima!

art-boy-dreams-galaxy-Favim.com-3963062

“The Rise in Skies & the Fall on Earth

You beamed with wits when you saw me

A little gut feeling went unattended

Danced like a lunatic when we met

Made me reminisce an old love song in your red dodge

Table with Kebabs and Game of thrones

Surprised me with taste of India in a Pak lounge

Twice the dawn turned into dusk, then we met again

Flirted with flamboyance until I gave up

We flew away as written in the palms of time

Months passed with eternal nights filled with thrills

Planning and preparation, our palpations never halted

Then you came crossing the deep seas

When we met in the mist of frosty days

I set eyes on you and I knew you were mine

When the world asked our story, your lips moved radiantly

And the bliss I heard, “my destiny walked into my door”

How we loved our chilly walks full of joy and fear

Our confound natures created a havoc

And it all ended in sorrow and vague

Until the darkest night crawled back, we met again

I buttoned your sleeves and relived your skin

Humoured and ridiculed the world in good faith

The mighty Eid arrived, and it struck what I missed

We spoke the unheard words, us against the world

My quest with the dark prince, who said we still got time…  “

— Kate

9fae56f792a6c2ab2933e243e817cffe

 

The Crystal Ship

“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.”
― Jim Morrison

1424762-7

 

“The Crystal Ship”

Before you slip into unconsciousness
I’d like to have another kiss
Another flashing chance at bliss
Another kiss, another kiss
2959143d73cb13202c805b5c9a5acccc

The days are bright and filled with pain
Enclose me in your gentle rain
The time you ran was too insane
We’ll meet again, we’ll meet again

Jaune-1200x800-©HenrikHaven-865x577

Oh tell me where your freedom lies
The streets are fields that never die
Deliver me from reasons why
You’d rather cry, I’d rather fly

7130670

The crystal ship is being filled
A thousand girls, a thousand thrills
A million ways to spend your time
When we get back, I’ll drop a line

— Morrison

I Could See The Smallest Things

I was in bed when I heard the gate. I listened carefully. I didn’t hear anything else. But I heard that. I tried to wake Cliff. He was passed out. So I got up and went to the window. A big moon was laid over the mountains that went around the city. It was a white moon and covered with stars. Any damn fool could imagine a face there.

There was light enough so that I could see everything in the yard – lawn chairs, the willow tree, clothesline strung between the poles, the petunias, the fences, the gate standing wide open.

But nobody was moving around. There were no scary shadows. Everything lay in moonlight, and I could see the smallest things. The clothespins on the line for instance.

I put my hands on the glass to block out the moon. I looked some more. I listened. Then I went back to bed.

But I couldn’t get to sleep. I kept turning over. I thought about the gate standing open. It was like a dare.

Cliff’s breathing was awful to listen to. His mouth gaped open and his arms hugged his pale chest. He was taking up his side of the bed and most of mine.

I pushed and pushed on him. But he just groaned.

I stayed a while longer until I decided it was no use. I got up and got my slippers. I went to the kitchen and made tea and sat with it at the kitchen table. I smoked one of Cliff’s unfiltereds.

It was late. I didn’t want to look at the time. I drank the tea and smoked another cigarette. After a while I decided I’d go out and fasten up the gate.

So I got my robe.

The moon lighted up everything – houses and trees, poles and power lines, the whole world. I peered around the backyard before I stepped off the porch. A little breeze came along that made me close the robe.

I started for the gate.

There was a noise at the fences that separated our place from Sam Lawton’s place. I took a sharp look. Sam was leaning with his arms on his fence, there being two fences to lean on. He raised his fist to his mouth and gave a dry cough.

‘Evening Nancy’, Sam Lawton said.

I said, ‘Sam you scared me.’ I said, ‘What are you doing up?’ ‘Did you hear something?’ I said. ‘I heard the gate unlatch.’

He said, ‘I didn’t hear anything. Haven’t seen anything, either. It might have been the wind.’

He was chewing something. He looked at the open gate and shrugged. His hair was silvery in the moonlight and stood up on his head. I could see his long nose, the lines in his big sad face.

I said, ‘What are you doing up, Sam? and moved closer to the fence.

‘Want to see something?’ he said.

‘I’ll come round’, I said.

I let myself out and went along the walk. It felt funny walking around outside in my nightgown and my robe. I thought to myself that I should try to remember this, walking around outside like this.

Sam was standing over by the side of his house, his pyjamas way up high over his tan-and-white shoes. He was holding a flashlight in one hand and a can of something in the other.

Sam and Cliff used to be friends. Then one night they got to drinking. They had words. The next thing, Sam had built a fence and then Cliff built one too.

That was after Sam had lost Mille, gotten married again, and become a father again all in the space of no time at all. Millie had been a good friend until she died. She was only forty-five when she did it. Heart failure. It hit her just as she was coming into their drive. The car kept going and went through the back of the carport.

‘Look at this,’ Sam said, hitching his pyjama trousers and squatting down. He pointed his light at the ground.

I looked and saw some wormy things curled on a patch of dirt.

‘Slugs,’ he said. ‘I just gave them a dose of this’, he said, raising a can of something that looked like Ajax. ‘They’re taking over,’ he said, and worked whatever it was that he had in his mouth. He turned his head to one side and spit what could have been tobacco. ‘I have to keep at this to just come close to staying up with them.’ He turned his light on a jar that was filled with the things. ‘I put the bait out, and then every chance I get I come out here with this stuff. Bastards are all over. A crime what they can do. Look here,’ he said.

He got up. He took my arm and moved me over to his rosebushes. He showed me the little holes in the leaves.

‘Slugs’, he said. ‘Everywhere you look around here at night. I lay out bait and then I come out and get them,’ he said. ‘An awful invention, the slug. I save them up in that jar over there.’ He moved his light to under the rosebush.

A plane passed overhead. I imagined the people on it staring down at the ground.

‘Sam’, I said, ‘how’s everybody?’

‘They’re fine,’ he said, and shrugged.

He chewed on whatever it was he was chewing. ‘How’s Clifford?’ he said.

I said, ‘Same as ever.’

Sam said, ‘Sometimes when I’m out here after the slugs, I’ll look over in your direction.’ He said, ‘I wish me and Cliff were friends again. Look there now,’ he said, and drew a sharp breath. ‘There’s one there. See him? Right there where my light is.’ He had the beam directed onto the dirt under the rosebush. ‘Watch this,’ Sam said.

I closed my arms under my breasts and bent over to where he was shining his light. The thing stopped moving and turned its head from side to side. Then Sam was over it with his can of powder, sprinkling the powder down.

‘Slimy things’, he said.

The slug was twisting this way and that. Then it curled and straightened out. Sam picked up a toy shovel, and scooped the slug into it, and dumped it out in the jar.

‘I quit you know,’ Sam said. ‘Had to. For a while it was getting so I didn’t know up from down. We still keep it around the house but I don’t have much to do with it anymore.’

I nodded. He looked at me and he kept looking.

‘I’d better get back,’ I said.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ll continue with what I’m doing and then when I’m finished, I’ll head in too.’

I said, ‘Good night, Sam.’

He said, ‘Listen.’ He stopped chewing. With his tongue, he pushed whatever it was behind his lower lip. ‘Tell Cliff I said hello.’

I said, ‘I’ll tell him you said so, Sam.’

Sam ran his hand through his silvery hair as if he was going to make it sit down once and for all, and then he used his hand to wave.

In the bedroom, I took off the robe, folded it, put it within reach. Without looking at the time, I checked to make sure the stem was out on the clock. Then I got into bed, pulled the covers up, and closed my eyes.

It was then that I remembered I’d forgotten to latch the gate.

I opened my eyes and lay there. I gave Cliff a little shake. He cleared his throat. He swallowed. Something caught and dribbled in his chest.

I don’t know. It made me think of those things that Sam Lawton was dumping powder on.

I thought for a minute of the world outside my house, and then didn’t have any more thoughts except the thought that I had to hurry up and sleep.

Source: Raymond Carver (1985) The Stories of Raymond Carver, London, Picador/Pan Books, pp.204-7


“What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” is not only the most well-known short story title of the latter part of the 20th century; it has come to stand for an entire aesthetic, the bare-bones prose style for which Raymond Carver became famous. Perhaps, it could be argued, too famous, at least for his fiction’s own good. Like those of Hemingway or any other writer similarly loved, imitated, parodied, and reviled, these stories can sometimes produce the sense of reading pastiche. “A man without hands came to the door to sell me a photograph of my house.” “That morning she pours Teacher’s over my belly and licks it off. That afternoon she tries to jump out the window.” “My friend Mel McGinnis was talking. Mel is a cardiologist, and sometimes that gives him the right.” What other writer ever produced first sentences like these? They are like doors into Carverworld, where everyone speaks in simple declarative phrases, no one ever stops at one beer, and failure or violence are the true outcomes of the American dream.

Yet these stories bear careful re-reading, like any truly important and enduring work. For one thing, Carver is one of the few writers who can make desperation–cutting your ex-wife’s telephone cord in the middle of a conversation, standing on your own roof chunking rocks while a man with no hands takes your picture–deeply funny. Then there is the sheer craft that went into their creation. Despite their seeming simplicity, his tales are as artfully constructed as poems–and like poems, the best of them can make your breath catch in your throat. In the title piece, for instance, after the gin has been drunk, after the stories have been told, after the tensions in the room have come to the surface and subsided again, there comes a moment of strange lightness and peace: “I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone’s heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.”

Much of what happens in What We Talk About When We Talk About Love (1981) happens offstage, and we’re left with tragedy’s props: booze, instant coffee, furniture from a failed marriage, cigarettes smoked in the middle of the night. This is not merely a matter of technique. Carver leaves out a great deal, but that’s only a measure of his characters’ vulnerability, the nerve endings his stories lay bare. To say anything more, one feels, would simply hurt too much. –Mary Park

Smokes & Strings – Boulevard of Broken Art

maxresdefault.jpg

Good Morning Planet. My name is Nik. I think, I live and I write. Among all three, I like writing more.

This story is about three artists. The first being – Me, of course. I have to be in the story. After all, the story is, where, I am! My father never watched TV. I am the inquisitive kind. I wanted to ask him, “Why didn’t you enjoy television, like the million others who indulge in the magnificent human insight, offered by the men and women inside that glowing tube?”

I wrote him a letter from prison. Well, calling  my place of captivity, prison, would be lying, technically, ideally. But glad we do not live in an ideal, technical, world. No one needs to play by the rules. There is always a workaround.

So the story is about Me, Aisha and Karen.

maxresdefault (1).jpg

Part I – The Escape

“Dear Father,

Hope you are doing great. I am having a good time, here, in this wonderful institution which takes care of my mental health. I intend to stay here, till the institution which oversees the lawful conduct of people, wishes, me, to. In the end, it’s never about love. Society is about fairness and law. Everyone is a just being. Love is a lost cause.

The things we do, in the name of love. So low..So low!

Now marriages don’t happen. Corporate mergers are the new holy union of souls.

Anyways, I often wonder, here, alone, in darkness, why do you hate television so much? We all have a need of drama in our lives. Where did you find yours?

Do write back. I would wait eagerly!

Your’s truly,

Son”

Mulder_Scully_Prison_Demons.jpg

Thousands of persons must have said the same thing to him since, but Aisha happened to be the first in the line. Anyone likes to hear flattering sentiments, and more than others, I suppose, artists. They like to be told every hour of the day how well they use their creativity.

Part II – Aisha

I reached the house at a run and rested a while in the lobby to regain my breath. I went in, brushing back my hair with my hand and composing my features. The door was open. As I entered, I heard her voice –

You are early! What took you so long?

She looked both sad and profound. I sat down on a stool near her.

“You are alone. I suppose, I should not stay long.”

She choose neither to acknowledge nor answer.

I looked at my watch. She had been away from him for nearly 8 hours. I was wasting time. Time was slipping through my fingers. If I were to make good, I should utilize this chance.

Hank-and-Karen-hank-and-karen-12268085-2048-1365

“Every night you generally sit up and cry, do you?” I asked boldly.

“When we are alone and start talking, we argue and quarrel over everything. We don’t agree on most matters, and then he leaves me alone and comes back and we are all right, that’s all.”

“It’s unthinkable that anyone should find it possible to quarrel or argue with you. You look like a smile machine for poor, tortured, souls. You are such a divine creature, even colors cannot paint, your reflection.”

She asked sharply, “What do you mean?”

I explained myself plainly. I was prepared to ruin myself today if need be, but I was going to talk and tell her. If she wanted to kick me out, she could do it after listening to me. I spoke my mind. Somehow, whenever we speak, time froze. Time became as slow as a tree falling in the forest.

Aisha lives at the Vista Regency, which is nothing but brown bricks held together with sleaze, where all the mattresses are sealed inside slippery plastic covers, so many people go there to die. You sit on any bed the wrong way, and you and the sheets and blanket slide right to the floor.

“Why did you marry at all?” I asked recklessly.

She remained moody and said, “I don’t know. It just happened. I guess, LOVE.”

People always talk about love. Everyone does. Whenever I hear, “Love”, Raymond’s voice echoes in my head.
“and it ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we’re talking about when we talk about love. All this, all of this love we’re talking about, it would just be a memory. Maybe not even a memory. Am I wrong? Am I way off base? Because I want you to set me straight if you think I’m wrong. I want to know. I mean, I don’t know anything, and I’m the first one to admit it.” 
― Raymond Carver, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love”

CALIFORNICATION (Season 3)

 

I see love as a cosmic event that changes the course of our lives. True selfless love, obviously, contrary to what is currently sold by popular media ; Where love is found online via matrimony websites on the virtues of income. That’s our institution of marriage. The Holy union of souls. She also has a piece of paper validating her love for him.
A piece of paper is what is needed for two people to stay in love. – Society
Things we do, in the name of Love, so low…so low!
I sighed deeply, overcome with the sadness of her life. I placed my hand on her shoulder and gently stroked it. “I am really very unhappy to think of you, such a gem lost to the world. In his place I would have made you a queen of the world.” She didn’t push away my hand. I let it travel and pushed my fingers through the locks of her hair.
Next day she visited my studio. She opened the – door, passed in, and hesitated, leaving the door half open. She stood looking at me for a moment, as on the first day.
960.jpg
If you really unite with your soulmate, you are doomed! Because you both would sit and talk and that is it. Now love is sex, money and revenge. An eternal revenge inflicted by two partners on each other for the sheer reason; they were not supposed to be together. Else time would freeze and it’s just that moment. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you don’t wake up, you don’t breathe, You just look into each other eyes and float in the space. You experience Nirvana, a state even the most potent opioids fail to induce.
She went in the resident artist’s bedroom and closed the door. She came out after a short while. She had taken off all her ornaments. She didn’t have gold rings in her ears, no gold chain hung around her neck, her arms were empty, her alms were empty. Apart from the tiny piece of silk cloth, covering her modesty, she did not have anything that she ever called hers. I could see her naked image, that slender frame, it must have took, God, six days to create her. On the seventh day, he created the world. That explains her divine beauty and this filthy world.
I stood up, held her neck, as I gently pushed her towards the bed, out of the way, and stepped in and locked the door on the world.
maxresdefault
Things we do, in the name of Love, so low…so low!

 

screenplay-the-end.png

to be continued….as the show must go on….. Have a lovely day ahead!

 

 

 

Feeble Men – Brave Women

Feeble Men – Brave Women

 

Good Morning Planet

Recently, I have started inviting people to the Broken Radio Studios for brainstorming sessions. Broken Radio has always proudly proposed a different view of outlook towards most pressing issues. As a generalization, society is only aware of two prime base colors. Black and White. The masses are always surrounded by a clouded reality of right and wrong. The masses are extremely polarized. Either they would find an action right and endorse it or they would brand an action incorrect and shun it. Most of the intellectuals fail to acknowledge an important concept, which is also cherished by universe –

Right and Wrong was never the protocol of the day. There are actions followed by consequences. Beyond the shades of right and wrong there’s a shade, we call it grey. The entire universe clad in dazzling lights and shimmering darkness is one complemented shade of Grey.  

Now whenever Broken Radio comes up with a new conceptualized theory backed by strong reasoning, driven by a logical approach, rich with non-biased, true facts, we make sure that we introduce it to the select few and get approval after a thoughtful debate which doesn’t involve name calling and yelling. After the theory/concept is approved by our select panel of intellectuals, we then roll it out for the masses, undiluted.

Today we are going to talk about missing valor in men and overwhelming bravery in women.

A dear friend of mine and founder of Fight Club – Tyler Durden once said –

We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.

Tyler shared his views 18 years ago. We all agreed and gave him an overwhelming approval.

In the past 18 years, a lot has changed. Today Broken Radio would like to edit Tyler words to make it more suitable as per the modern times. We are positive Tyler would agree with us. We say –

We’re a generation of men constantly saved by women. We are saved by our mothers. We are shielded by our sisters. Our lovers help us dream. Our partners groom us to achieve. Our daughters love us and we hate ourselves. I’m wondering if we deserve any women.

abramovich-rhythm

To further elaborate let’s observe this small social interaction –

Hamsa, is a country head of a reputed Financial institution based in one of the richest countries. Hussain is also employed by the same institution. Hamsa is an extremely talented, goal-oriented, confident, successful yet loving female. Everyone passively desire her. Some mask it as an admiration, others as love, few as lust too but in the end every man wants her. Hamsa is a kind-hearted woman and she wants to help people like every other decent human being. Hamsa is also an extremely confident person with no self-esteem issues. She toiled hard, fought corporate wars and emerged a winner.

But, (as we all know, there is always a but lurking around), like every other woman, Hamsa also has a need to love, to be loved, to talk, to be spoken to, to be heard. Karen is Hamsa’s best friend. Karen is a wonderful woman. I am in love with Karen and I know that I know her better than anyone else. Karen is a great listener. Karen loves Hamsa and tries to fulfil her every emotional need. That is what friends do. They take care of your emotional needs but in the end, Karen is a woman. She is not a man. We are technically wired to spend the most passionate moments of our lives with the opposite sex. (Homosexuals, you are another blog, another day, today just go away.)

Hussain is an attractive person. I highly doubt his sincerity towards his work but Hamsa always praises it. So, due to lack of proper evidence, let’s agree that Hussain is also hard-working. Let’s just add a fucking fake badge on his tainted uniform. Anyways Hamsa, due to lack of better, deserving men decides to go out on a dinner date with Hussain after he pesters her for multiple months.

Here’s what happens –

(Waiter approaches Hussain)

Waiter: May I get the order?

(Hussain directs the waiter towards Hamsa.)

Hamsa: I would take a meze, rich in white cheese and sliced melon. Please make sure that you do not use hot pepper paste. Stash the walnuts towards the sides and the yogurt should not be more than 6 hours old. Bring an Arak now and one followed after the meal. That would be it.

Waiter: Thanks ma’am.

(Waiter looks at the spineless guy.)

What would you like to order sir?

(Hussain is sweating like a pig. His legs are shaking badly. A tiny drop of his stinking sweat rolls down from his forehead, along his crooked nose, bounces on his twisted lower lip and drops into his glass of water. Hussain picks his glass of water and drinks it in one large sip.)

Hussain: I would take a Butter Naan with Afghani Chicken.

The waiter walks away.  

  It’s been three years since that night. Hamsa heard all his unbelievable stories. Hamsa believed in all of them. Yesterday, he told a rather believable story and Hamsa brushed it off in disbelief.

c8c82c0bf99d27177f022b758608da81_783x0

Karen, love of my life, told me that Hussain confessed being married. Seems like Hussain had a memory issue. All the three years he exploited Hamsa’s innocence, tainted her soul, crushed her spirits, lied, cheated, he never remembered that he was married. Today he wishes to leave his job and go back to his wife. Hussain got some terrible memory issues.

Anyways, Sister Hamsa is devastated. My lover Karen is devastated. I know how wonderful and selfless women are, so, witnessing their pain, I am devastated.

Ideally our society doesn’t endorse views of revenge, hatred, aggression. Ironically, we are brave men who wage war on an annual basis. We indulge in hi-tech war equipment and very bravely use our chip powered drones and kill innocent people. That’s an extremely difficult act of bravery. Flying battery powered weapons is the new art of war.

People lost their bravery when Vikings vanished from the planet. The last recorded brave men were the Vikings. They went to wage war to go to Walhalla. They went to war, either to die or to kill. In both the cases an eternal fulfilling experience of soul. Now people find such thoughts crazy. What I find crazy is few snipers calling themselves patriots killing innocent people in the name of country and the country would then proudly honor them as great warriors. I guess that’s where Broken Radio and the world have an objective disagreement of philosophy.

f4ba5ab0fb9b2990eb87993e16252e8f

Now Hamsa is devastated and so is Karen. I am outraged. I do not like my sister and my lover upset because of a spineless, coward, lying, piece of shit. I either like someone or I hate them. If I have enough valid reasons to hate someone, that person often lands in knee-deep trouble. So, Hussain is done for this life.

There were days in the past, KGB agents used to call Moscow for help. Mostly Moscow would not help. Spies need to deal with their shit, on their own. Moscow would mostly say –

“Moscow is silent.

Today morning, I called Moscow. Moscow wasn’t silent. Moscow is outraged. Hussain needs to pay. Moscow wants justice for sister Hamsa. Few clicks on a laptop, in a cyber cell by a truth activist is what it takes to disable someone’s life permanently. I feel no sympathy for Hussain. Cowards have no place in a just world. Broken Radio is fighting for a just world. Few sacrifices are needed, few extreme examples need to be fed.

I just wanted to advise Sister Hamsa, (hope she won’t consider it meddling) –

Feeble Men cannot compliment Brave Women. Think before you choose your partner.

Have a wonderful day People. Keep on lying, cheating and whoring, after all it’s not an ideal world.

It’s just a blatant scam. A great con!

 

 

We the People demand Free the People

** The views expressed in this article are of an Individual. Government doesn’t endorse such views. They do not mind people being slaves. BrokenRadio does **

There’s blood in the streets, it’s up to my ankles
She came
Blood in the streets, it’s up to my knee
She came
Blood in the streets in the towns around
She came
Blood on the rise, it’s following me
Think about the break of day

She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair 

                                                 –Peace Frog

Good Morning Planet

Rain does push the morning bio-alarm away. I always make sure to wake up early. Early bird catches the worm. In a filth-rich society, someone got to give up on grabbing desserts and take the pains to catch the worm. I don’t mind menial jobs. Work is worship. So, I catch worms.

Today morning I was interacting with a fan, (I personally prefer the term friend) who belongs from Kashmir. She had the pleasure of witnessing years of tyranny. I wish, I too was that lucky. Witnessing political and social tyranny, first-hand is an extremely enriching and soulful experience. She is blessed. God bless her soul. God bless her family. She was sharing her agony about her little brothers, who were badly hurt by a state backed oppressive force.

I guess all of us have agreed on my views, that a self-aware state/society/system which stems out and breeds on a principle of self-indulgence cannot work selflessly for the self-interest of the people. To elaborate –

  • Your Government is a failed state.
  • Your Society is a failed organization.
  • Your Beliefs are a failed system.
  • Your Armed Forces are failed assailants.
  • Your Media is a failed tube.
  • Your Soul is a failed institution.
  • You are a failed experiment.

My Radio, though it’s Broken, still airs.

Now in this failed mindset, we end up agreeing to failed concepts.

“Get a job. Go to work. Get married. Have children. Follow fashion. Act normal. Walk on the pavement. Watch TV. Obey the law. Save for your old age. Now repeat after me: I am free.”

We are in a state of constant surveillance. This surveillance is then used to create propaganda that is wrapped in religious content and then weaponized for brutality against humanity to fulfill Political agendas. The Prime goal of the campaign being:

“Seasoned Subjugation of Mind!”

This is the ultimate tag-line endorsed by your governments across the blue dot, floating in the space, in an infinite universe, brightly lit with lights and fairly rich with darkness.

We are in a state of encouraged vigilantism. This vigilantism is then used to induce terror propaganda which is wrapped in fear and then weaponized for mass slavery to fulfill corporate agendas. The Prime goal of the campaign being:

“Autonomous Subjugation of the Mind”

In an era, where consciousness should be floating around, we the people walk proudly, in a state of deep sleep which is pleasantly masked as waking dream that is perceived as reality due to flawed sense of reasoning.

But the people wake up. They always do. Today or tomorrow or in the centuries later to come, an awakening is inevitable. Today I woke up late but when I looked out the window, I saw an awakened mass. After a very long span of time, I witnessed rising.

Ayat from Kashmir demanded freedom and I would help her attain it.

We the people demand Free the people.

Freedom of Mind. Freedom of Soul. Freedom of thoughts. Freedom to choose goals.

And it’s so easy to be free. It’s just a two-step process.

  • We pick up a pen.
  • And we keep writing about the truth, just the truth, only the truth.

No one needs to get out of their homes. No one needs to flood the streets. No one needs to yell. No one needs to scream. Hell, you do not even need to talk.

Just Write! Write about the injustice you witness! Write about the brutality you experience! Write about the extents of exploitation you are subjugated to!

Write about the Truth!

We the people will flood the streets with letters addressed to the establishment. The drains would clog with molten pulp and would burn the unjust system. We the people would ignite a cleansing fire and burn this crippled disassociated oppressive system and  We the people then would Free the people.

A pen and a paper is the only medicine crafted for this epidemic!

The first revolution is the revolution of the mind wherein you agree to at least the concept of tolerance for a different point of view. A view which you have never been shown before. A view which every great or evil person agreed to.

Be it murderer Escobar or the benevolent Teresa.

Writing letters is the only real art of war!

To achieve a permanent state of peace, let’s give way to a temporary state of unrest.

Let’s get out of our cozy couch and get in the library. Let’s write slogans. No stones needed. No bullets required. Just a pen and a brave heart.

We the People demand Free the People.   

#notinmyname

#wethepeople #demand #freethepeople @brokenradiocreatives

Have an Excellent Sunday. Happy Shopping.

Jack Sparrow: Aye Aye Captain!

Good Morning Planet

Today is Friday. I love Fridays.

It is mentioned in the Quran:

O ye who believe! When the call is proclaimed to prayer on Friday (the Day of Assembly, yawm al-jumu’ah), hasten earnestly to the Remembrance of Allah, and leave off business (and traffic): That is best for you if ye but knew!
And when the Prayer is finished, then may ye disperse through the land, and seek of the Bounty of Allah: and celebrate the Praises of Allah often (and without stint): that ye may prosper.

— Qur’an, sura 62 (Al-Jumua), āyāt 9-10

In Hadith, The Prophet said, “On every Friday the angels take their stand at every gate of the mosques to write the names of the people chronologically (i.e. according to the time of their arrival for the Friday prayer) and when the Imam sits (on the pulpit) they fold up their scrolls and get ready to listen to the sermon.”

Even the schools I studied in and the corporations I worked with, cherish Fridays, in some manner or other. In schools we were given a break from the same boring, dull, uniform and we could look shiny and dazzling. In corporations too, there is a fresh vibe and no dress code. So Friday is a fun day.

Lately, I have been writing a lot about overwhelming corporate corruption and I have criticized PM Modi and CM Yogi in a blatant manner. That has generated me a lot of love. Today morning an old friend from the old times, Rahul Panchal, left a love note on FB –

“You talk a lot of shit from your ugly and shitty mouth about a lot of people. You have lately started doing same about our PM Mr. Modi.

Do you do the same for your mother as well ?

Stop being a dickhead MOFO.
#WANNABEARTIST
#FAKELYF # FUCKYOURSELF”

I was extremely delighted to hear from him. We spent some good times together in the past. Some of you might think I am being sarcastic and there is no plausible reason for me to be happy after reading Rahul’s comment. Well that’s untrue. Among all the love he showered me with, he used a hashtag #fakelyf, that’s a campaign BrokenRadio ran two months ago on FB. It gives me immense pleasure to see that my work has not been forgotten. Thanks for bringing a smile on my face Rahul. And let’s catch up someday. Our political differences should not deter us from socializing. I always found you cool. And I like cool people.

When we talk about cool people, well, ignoring Jack sparrow would be a hate crime. Jack sparrow, the wisest sailor, is the coolest of em all. During the month of Ramadan, I promised my dear friend and author, Khadija Fatima – You Think You know, that I would write a great piece about Jack sparrow. (I oversold my writing in order to impress her, wink, wink, wink. No mortal can ever pen down the greatness of Jack in words.)  Her hair recently went salty and peppery, which I absolutely love and I also owe her Eidi, so, here it is, a small tribute to the great, Jack Sparrow. (oops, there got to be a captain somewhere). My bad folks, it has always been Capt. Jack Sparrow.

So, Ladies and Gentlemen, This Friday Morning, Broken Radio Theater presents the infamous, lovable, witty, daring,monster slayer, lord of the seas, robber of hearts, Capt Jack Sparrow  –

(Crowd cheers – Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. Women faint while shouting – Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. Jack enters on the stage)

Jack-Sparrow-cannibal-chase-Pirates-Caribbean

Me : Welcome to our humble adobe Captain!

f7fc4a301835e4270e22ec1a598c8acd

Jack Sparrow : Why is the Rum gone? (murmurs to himself) Where is that girl with those splendid locks, you spoke about.

Me : She crossed the sea Capt. She is in Dubai, the land of gold.

(Jack looks at Kate’s pic, stares, continues staring)

Me : What happened Capt?

JackSparrowProfile

Jack Sparrow : You need to find yourself a girl, mate. Or perhaps the reason you write three blogs a day is that you already found one, and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet. You’re not a eunuch are you?

Me: Let’s not get personal Sir. We are here to talk about you not me.

Jack Sparrow: You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?

Me: Not that I can remember, Captain.

Jack Sparrow: Do us a favor… I know it’s difficult for you… but please, stay here, and try not to do anything… stupid.

(Jack turns around and looks at the studio audiences and yells)

article-1334428-04E249B10000044D-849_468x391

Jack Sparrow: Shoot him and cut out his tongue, then shoot his tongue! And trim that scraggly beard! (finger pointing towards me) I have no sympathy for any of you feculent maggots and no more patience to pretend otherwise. Gentlemen, I wash my hands of this weirdness.

Me: But I am a fan.

On_stranger_tides13

Jack Sparrow: Good man. Weigh anchor, all hands! Prepare to make sail!

[takes out compass]

1490919552-captain-jack-sparrow-image-captain-jack-sparrow-36050334-480-326

We going to sail to the land of gold. I need to meet this lovely lass they call Kate, the one who has splendid locks. You can come along but, Mate, if you choose to lock your heart away you’ll lose it for certain and Gentlemen, m’lady, you will always remember this as the day that you almost met Captain Jack Sparrow ! [escapes]

JackSparrow

(Curtain Falls)

 

 

 

 

Orange Clad Demon – CM Yogi Adityanath

 

Orange is the new Black

Good Afternoon Planet

I’ve got a few questions for all of you today.

How many of us have seen a Pope fighting for election?

How many of us have seen a Maulana representing a state or a country?

How many of us have seen a priest running a state?

xcartoon-march-20-20-1489989813.jpg.pagespeed.ic.WbxFg-objr

The answer to the first two questions is no one. But the answer to the last question is – 7.5 billion. This disparity is scary. Uttar Pradesh , is the most populous state in the Republic of India. It is home to the highest numbers of both Hindus and Muslims. By religion, the population in 2011 was Hindus 79.73%, Muslims 19.26%, Sikhs 0.32%, Christians 0.18%, Jains 0.11%, Buddhists 0.10%, and Others 0.30%. The literacy rate of the state at the 2011 census was 70%, which was below the national average of 74%.

rdtxe5afeaiig_medium

Now Indians are not smart. We are talking about a set of people who uninstalled Snapdeal when the CEO of Snapchat called them poor. That’s the level of intellect Indians possess. Indians were ashamed of themselves since ages. Modi was quoted in a newspaper saying “Earlier you felt ashamed of being born Indian” and that his term in office is what has changed that perception. Twitter was outraged with PM’s remarks. The whole nation was. I wasn’t. I have dealt with foreign nationals through out my corporate slavery of 8 long years. And I am very well aware of how Indians are perceived throughout the globe. Indians are so uneducated that they have to be taught not to shit and pee in public. They have to be taught not to push people in metros. They need to be taught not to litter. They need to be taught not to pick nose in public. That’s how intelligent Indians are.

Modi-degree

Modi was right when he passed this remark and he has done a good job teaching Indians few manners. I applaud him for that. But that could have been done by any of these money hungry, corporate endorsing, celebrities. A PM’s job is to run a country, not to teach fellow country men manners. But that was his strategy. He did not win an election. He won a popularity contest and he would not stop. He would continue fighting for his popularity like Kim Kardashian and the way teenage girls admire Kim, this illiterate country would continue loving PM Modi. He has paid media along his side.

Subhash Chandra is an Indian media moghul. He is chairman of Essel Group, an Indian conglomerate. He also got elected to the Upper House of Indian parliament from the Haryana state in Rajya Sabha election.

Essel group owns –

  • World is One News
  • Zee News
  • Zee Hindustan
  • Zee Entertainment Enterprises
  • Zee Media Corporation
  • Daily News and Analysis
  • Dish TV
  • Siti Cable
  • Zee Turner Limited
  • Intrex Trade Exchange Ltd
  • Cyquator Technologies Limited
  • Digital Media Convergence Limited
  • CornerShop Entertainment

Modi and Subhash have been close friends. Modi launched Subhash’s autobiography at 7, Race Course Road, New Delhi. Why would a PM do something like this? And how did he manage time? These are relevant questions. These are not baseless allegations.  You better find the answers yourself. I am not here to hand it over to you. Tweet Modi and ask him, ”Isn’t it unethical to be friends with one of the major media baron?”

15745159_303

Anyways lets get back to his pet, CM Yogi. We have already established that U.P’s literacy rate is lower than that of the rest of India and Indians are born stupid. I am just saying what your PM says proudly. He believes in it too. Why shouldn’t he? We are watching paid media praising him and we assume he is praise worthy. Let me remind you of a truth which you seem to have forgotten because media no longer brings it up. This man is responsible for riots. He was denounced by the global community because of his hard lined religious approach and even was denied Visa to United States. The same country which proudly endorses him now because of a common goal – Kill Muslims. Don’t make too much of a noise. Kill them slowly and silently. Oh, my bad. They do not use the term kill. That’s bad. Neutralize the threat. That’s the popular term.

1344951-240212satish

Now this rioting enthusiast has appointed his pet as the chief minister of a state which is stupider than an already stupid nation. This pet wears a costume the whole fucking time. That’s how tolerant he is. He never gets out of his costume. He thinks he is a religious rock star. No he isn’t. He is a lunatic. Religion breeds hatred. That’s the base of religion. All the world’s biggest documented tragedies including ancient conquests and modern wars are religiously motivated and politically masked. A person who wears a black gown throughout, yup, Orange is the new black. I have started hating orange cause now I think it’s just blood, diluted with sweat. This lunatic who wants to create a Hindu nation is fueling hatred in people and letting his so called army of goons – Hindu Sena, run around like wild monkeys, killing innocent people in the name of animals.

I am a born Hindu and I eat beef. I enjoy eating beef. I would eat beef everyday. Also on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I want you lunatics to mess with me. Stop killing little children in the name of your gods. Come mess with me. I am going to a slaughter house this very evening, located in Ghaziabad, to buy beef and then I would head home and cook it and eat delicious beef. My doors would be open waiting for your goons. Many few people realize the power of truth. If you are not a bastard Mr Yogi, if you drank your mother’s milk and not some vagabond animal’s piss, I welcome you for a nice meal. (This is the languagae they communicate in) Let’s see who has power. A bought position handed to you while you run around like puppet or a True voice of an honest Indian. Tonight let’s see whether the revolution would be televised or not. Tonight you should pay for killing Junaid. You killed him and PM Modi conceived it in one of his Jet lags. Hope to see you and your army of goons in the next few hours.

Good Bye for now.

 

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

“The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and
skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by American Express

In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you selfies of Modi
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Mendel Rivers to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, the revolution will not be televised, Brother.

7b2a149d229ad04c688cae79d3c4d40d

There will be no pictures of you and Willie Mays
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
on reports from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the right occasion.

Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so god damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally screwed
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.

article-2565995-1BC2765000000578-685_964x670

There will be no highlights on the eleven o’clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb or
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash or Englebert Humperdink.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be right back
after a message about a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver’s seat.

The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.

Jerusalem-riots-AFP-800x430

Gilbert “Gil” Scott-Heron (April 1, 1949 – May 27, 2011) was an American soul and jazz poet, musician, and author, known primarily for his work as a spoken-word performer in the 1970s and 1980s. His collaborative efforts with musician Brian Jackson featured a musical fusion of jazz, blues, and soul, as well as lyrical content concerning social and political issues of the time, delivered in both rapping and melismatic vocal styles by Scott-Heron. (Broken Radio took the liberty to make an edit to suit current times)

Tuesday or Thursday – Let’s Eat Beef Everyday

Six Reasons To Eat Meat Every Day Of The Week
Young-men-brandishing-arms-march-past-a-mosque-in-Bengla-during-Ram-Navami.-Credit-YouTube-Screengrab-1

On Thursday a 15-year-old Muslim boy, returning home from Eid shopping with his three brothers, was killed in a brutal assault by a mob of about 20 men on a train in the north Indian state of Haryana.

Police say that the reason for Junaid Khan’s murder – in which his three siblings were also injured by the knife-wielding mob – was mainly because of a row over seat space on the train.

But a man arrested for being part of the mob said on TV that he was goaded into it by others because Muslims ate beef.

Shaqir, one of the surviving brothers, told reporters in the hospital that the attackers “flung our skull caps, pulled my brother’s beard, slapped us, and taunted us about eating beef”.

Under Narendra Modi’s Hindu nationalist BJP, the cow has become a polarising animal and religious divisions are widening. Restrictions on the sale and slaughter of cows are fanning confusion and vigilantism.

Two years ago, a mob killed farm worker Mohammed Akhlaq over “rumours” that his family had stored and eaten beef.

A relative holds a photograph of slain Indian villager Mohammad Akhlaq at his home in the village of Bisada,

I would refrain from teaching you what kind of meat is good for you and what might turn you into a devil but here are some facts for you:

  1. It’s healthy. There are 29 lean cuts of beef, according to USDA standards. Beef provides nutrients like zinc, iron, protein and B vitamins, and half of the fat found in beef is monounsaturated, the same heart-healthy fats found in olive oil.
  2. It’s easy. Using recipes from beefitswhatsfordinner.com, beef is an easy addition to a well-balanced meal. Simply fire up the grill or turn on the slow cooker, and you’ve got a healthy, simple meal that stars meat.
  3. It’s environmentally friendly. Cattle graze on land that is too steep, hilly or rocky for farming. Cattle aerate the soil and eat brush, which is good for wildfire management. Check out our Earth Day page to find more reasons why beef production is good for the planet.
  4. It’s affordable. Calorie-for-calorie, beef is more nutrient dense than vegetarian protein options like peanut butter, tofu or beans. You get more nutritional bang for your buck by choosing healthy, lean animal proteins.
  5. It’s kind. Cattlemen care about their livestock; it makes good business sense and it’s the right thing to do. Respectfully harvesting these animals to nourish people is a part of the circle of life, and something that ranchers take very seriously.
  6. It will make you feel sexy. Without protein as the center of my diet, I feel depleted of energy. Sure, vegetables and fruits are great, but without protein power, I’m not strong. And, being strong is sexy! Be inspired by all the Team Beef members who are out leading busy, active lifestyles, competing in triathalons, marathons and more!

What are the reasons you eat meat?

Let’s make Meat-In Tuesday n Thursday the new trend!

I love beef. It’s Yum and healthy!

Modi & Yogi – Rise of Monkey Men

Good Afternoon Planet

Today morning we all agreed that organized religion breeds hatred and is mostly based on a captivating story. Let’s talk about one today, before we discuss our so called Hindu Savior leaders.

HanumanCloseUp_Fractals.jpg

Hanuman , he’s a well regarded mythological figure. Mythology means – a collection of myths, especially one belonging to a particular religious or cultural tradition. As per Hindu mythology, Hanuman is a divine monkey who was Ram’s companion.

The texts mention about a scholar Raavan, who was blessed by Lord Shiva (a yogi – one who masters the ancient, mystic art of yoga). Raavan was of higher intellect. He was regarded as someone so intelligent that he is widely believed to have 10 heads, meaning he was wiser than ten collective wise men. Raavan’s sister fell in love with Ram. Ram was already married. So Ram rejected her and instructed his younger brother to chop her nose off to teach her a lesson.

Let’s pause and understand the story. Ram was exiled by his own family. Family is always regarded as the pillar of love and support. Parents never abandon children, even in dire circumstances. Ram must have done at least something to piss his people to bring the exile upon himself. No one denies this fact.

A women fell in love with a married man. I understand, even in today’s society it’s considered a taboo. But, Is it unconstitutional? Did she commit a felony? No. She did not. As a matter of fact she didn’t even know, Ram was an unavailable man. She just fell in love with a misogynist. A man who was so blind and greedy that he abandoned his wife also, later on, questioning her integrity. The same wife who blessed him with her unconditional love and shared the pains of exile with him equally.

This man had no right to physically harm a woman. If he wasn’t interested, he could have ended things on a polite note and maybe people would have wrote sonnets about this incomplete love. But he being a women hater, choose to punish Raavan’s for her forthcoming conduct. Feminists, I hope you listening now.

Raavan being a scholar and a warrior choose to punish Ram. He took his pride away. He stole Ram’s wife. Now Ram who is supposedly worshiped as one of the strongest men, failed to defend his wife. How Ironical! I guess the exile was well deserved.

Someone who cannot defend his wife, no one would imagine him to defend an entire country.

Anyways, his divine monkey friend decided to help him out. This divine monkey went with a bag full of tricks and burnt a city which was a center of trade and a symbol of prosperity – Lanka. A city so legendary that the walls were made of gold. It’s referred as the Golden Lanka. And then finally Ram defeated Raavan with the help of an army of chimps, plotting an assassination by the help of Raavan’s jilted, traitor of a brother.

Ram freed his wife and then abandoned her.

The crux of the story – Be a hater. Hate women. Question their integrity. And hate anyone who is wise and powerful because you are petty within.

100_days_of_narendra_modi_featured

Now let’s see our two biggest Indian leaders. PM Modi and CM Yogi. They both hate women. PM Modi abandoned his wife. Yogi never got married. They both are extremely narrow minded and resort to primal selves when feel threatened. Modi is known to have reached his throne of seven kingdoms by trampling and climbing over more than a millions of riot victims.

An activist of Rashtrawadi Sena holds a trishul as he shouts anti-Pakistan slogans during a protest in New Delhi

Hanuman, the divine monkey brought riot in Lanka. Yogi’s men – Hindu Sena do the same. They have figured out that a big riot can cause global pressure. So now it’s two killings each day. Solves the purpose and doesn’t bring any shame. That’s smart thinking.

India Elections

I pledge to vote for the Monkey Men in 2019. Monkey power rocks India. Indians hate being called snake charmers. I think Monkey Men would be okay with them.

Religion – Major League Bullshit

Good Morning Planet

Yesterday night something strange happened, as usual. A friend messaged me posing a question,

“Have you converted to Islam?”

Recently I have been writing about Islam and Prophet (PBUH), a lot. So, I can’t really blame him. People always perceive and believe the easiest possible explanation . What they fail to grasp is, religion, like any other belief is just a web of entangled, confused, misinterpreted, set of words and quotes. It’s just another story and most certainly a captivating one. Now, when it comes to all the floating stories currently on paper and in tube, I like the love story of Khadeeja the Great and Prophet more than any other. It makes a lot of sense. Out of sheer love came a set of belief so powerful that it swept the world. The belief system is extremely strong and only preaches love and love and love and love and love, UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.

But as always it’s misinterpreted, (read “Are You a Chimp!“, to know why), twisted for personal gains and propaganda purposes by organized governments and unorganized pseudo governments.  

femen03
Topless activists of the Ukrainian women movement Femen take part in a protest against the fierce opposition from the Roman Catholic Church to authorise gay marriage on November 18, 2012 in Paris. AFP PHOTO KENZO TRIBOUILLARD FRANCE-FEMEN-HOMOSEXUALITY-DEMO

“George Carlin – When it comes to bullshit, big-time, major league bullshit, you have to stand in awe of the all-time champion of false promises and exaggerated claims, religion. No contest. No contest. Religion. Religion easily has the greatest bullshit story ever told. Think about it. Religion has actually convinced people that there’s an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever ’til the end of time!

But He loves you. He loves you, and He needs money! He always needs money! He’s all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, somehow just can’t handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, they pay no taxes, and they always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story. Holy Shit”

391289

Bill Maher: The irony of religion is that because of its power to divert man to destructive courses, the world could actually come to an end. The plain fact is, religion must die for mankind to live. The hour is getting very late to be able to indulge in having in key decisions made by religious people. By irrationalists, by those who would steer the ship of state not by a compass, but by the equivalent of reading the entrails of a chicken. George Bush prayed a lot about Iraq, but he didn’t learn a lot about it. Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking. It’s nothing to brag about. And those who preach faith, and enable and elevate it are intellectual slaveholders, keeping mankind in a bondage to fantasy and nonsense that has spawned and justified so much lunacy and destruction. Religion is dangerous because it allows human beings who don’t have all the answers to think that they do. Most people would think it’s wonderful when someone says, “I’m willing, Lord! I’ll do whatever you want me to do!” Except that since there are no gods actually talking to us, that void is filled in by people with their own corruptions and limitations and agendas. And anyone who tells you they know, they just know what happens when you die, I promise you, you don’t. How can I be so sure? Because I don’t know, and you do not possess mental powers that I do not. The only appropriate attitude for man to have about the big questions is not the arrogant certitude that is the hallmark of religion, but doubt. Doubt is humble, and that’s what man needs to be, considering that human history is just a litany of getting shit dead wrong. This is why rational people, anti-religionists, must end their timidity and come out of the closet and assert themselves. And those who consider themselves only moderately religious really need to look in the mirror and realize that the solace and comfort that religion brings you actually comes at a terrible price. If you belonged to a political party or a social club that was tied to as much bigotry, misogyny, homophobia, violence, and sheer ignorance as religion is, you’d resign in protest. To do otherwise is to be an enabler, a mafia wife, for the true devils of extremism that draw their legitimacy from the billions of their fellow travelers. If the world does come to an end here, or wherever, or if it limps into the future, decimated by the effects of religion-inspired nuclear terrorism, let’s remember what the real problem was that we learned how to precipitate mass death before we got past the neurological disorder of wishing for it. That’s it. Grow up or die.”today

To sum it up for you,

“Isha V Singh – Organized Religion is a slow cancer. Keep Praying. God won’t save you.”

Eid Celebrations – Jama Masjid – New Delhi

As-Salaam-Alaikum

Eid al-Fitr was originated by the Islamic prophet Muhammad. It is observed on the first of the month of Shawwal at the end of the month of Ramadan, during which Muslims undergo a period of fasting.

According to certain traditions, these festivals were initiated in Medina after the migration of Muhammad from Mecca. Anas reports:

When the Prophet arrived in Madinah, he found people celebrating two specific days in which they used to entertain themselves with recreation and merriment. He asked them about the nature of these festivities at which they replied that these days were occasions of fun and recreation. At this, the Prophet remarked that the Almighty has fixed two days [of festivity] instead of these for you which are better than these: Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha

For Muslims, both the festivals of Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha are occasions for showing gratitude to Allah and remembering Him, as well as giving alms to the poor.

With God’s grace, Broken Radio team always tries to celebrate Eid in the world’s highly regarded mosque – Jama Masjid. We spent the whole day, praying, celebrating and trying to capture the soul of this festival in few, remarkable, never-seen-before pictures.

Enjoy Folks!

1466161911_5eid-at-jama-masjid-new-delhi_47b45ac7-2d3e-11e5-a8da-005056b4648eJama-Masjid-8IMG-20170626-WA0034tumblr_nx2gb9p1OP1s3z22to1_1280IMG-20170626-WA0038IMG-20170626-WA0037IMG_0797IMG_0801IMG_0802IMG_0804IMG_0815IMG_0817IMG_0824IMG_0826IMG_0829IMG_0832IMG_0836IMG_0833IMG-20170626-WA0039IMG-20170626-WA0049

 

Eid al-Fitr 2017: The most stunning pictures from around the world

Eid al-Fitr is being celebrated today. A festival which is a celebration after a 30 day pious cleansing of the soul, that marks the end of Ramadan. We would be bringing you more news from Jama Masjid, New Delhi in the afternoon. Here’s few pictures to exhilarate you this fine morning :

A crescent moon rises close to an illuminated minaret of mosque in Amman December 16, 2001. Moslems ..SAUDI-RELIGION-ISLAM-RAMADAN-MECCAYoung-Muslim-praying-after-the-adultsPAKISTAN-RELIGION-ISLAM-EIDEid-Al-Adha-Celebration-Food-Imagesaudi-youth-dance-they-celebrate-eid-al-fitr-riyadh-2012image-20160705-814-8u1dd23164344097boyseidEid Greeting Wallpapers 2015

 

 

Pretty Boy PM Modi : The Smiling Salesman

PM Modi is a remarkable salesman.

He used to sell tea, now he sells Country.

Broken Radio rewards him Sales Man – 2017 – The Smiling Fox

469011-modi-onama-zee1443385611-5779635789678201136878-zuckmodiarticle-2774118-21C8F74D00000578-303_964x847BN-IL018_ichinm_G_20150515011632BN-KO577_modiga_G_20151001052409Modi in BerlinModifriend

Congrats Modi Boy! You Rock!

Why so Serious?

There is not even a single shred of evidence in universe, supporting, Life is Serious.

Isha V. Singh

I step out of my broken abode, I see trembling faces.

I look closer. Fear-struck are they. Fear of being judged, touched, loved, hated, heard, unheard, rejected, cheated, raped. Fear of being happy.

Fear of finding peace and tranquility. Fear of freedom from the chaos.

It’s very troubling to see, poor souls suffer. What can I do?

I can try telling some stories that might help you.

heath_ledger_batman_movies

“I’d consider myself a realist, alright? But in philosophical terms I’m what’s called a pessimist… I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware. Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself – we are creatures that should not exist by natural law… We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self, that accretion of sensory experience and feelings, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody’s nobody… I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction – one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.

― Rust Cohen

“Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here’s Tom with the Weather.”
Bill Hicks

“The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it’s very brightly colored, and it’s very loud, and it’s fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, “Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?” And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, “Hey, don’t worry; don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.” And we … kill those people. “Shut him up! I’ve got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real.” It’s just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn’t matter, because it’s just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.”
Bill HicksQunexc-Don-t-Be-Madness-Joker-Quote-Motivational-Art-Silk-Poster-The-Dark-Knight-Rises-24x36inch.jpg_640x640
My father was a drinker and a fiend and one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn’t like that, not one bit. So, me watching he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me and he says “WHY SO SERIOUS!?”. He comes at me with the knife “why so serious!?” Sticks the blade in my mouth “lets put a smile on that face!” aaaand….. why sooooo serrrious?
Why are You so Serious?
f6a132547431b0eac72d0498243e1cbe.jpg

Advertising Lullaby – George Carlin

erase

 

Quality, value, style, service, selection, convenience
Economy, savings, performance, experience, hospitality
Low rates, friendly service, name brands, easy terms
Affordable prices, money-back guarantee, free installation.

Free admission, free appraisal, free alterations,
Free delivery, free estimates, free home trial, and free parking.

No cash? No problem! No kidding! No fuss, no muss,
No risk, no obligation, no red tape, no hidden charges,
No down payment, no entry fee, no purchase necessary,
No one will call on you, no payments or interest till December, and no parking.

nuns_she_1_billboard

Limited time only, though, so act now, order today, send no money,
Offer good while supplies last, two to a customer, each item sold separately,
Batteries not included, mileage may vary, all sales are final,
Allow six weeks for delivery, some items not available,
Some assembly required, some restrictions may apply.

Shop by mail, order by phone.
Try it in your home, get one for your car.
All entries become our properties, employees not eligible,
Entry fees not refundable, local restrictions apply,
Voidware prohibited except in Indiana.
lion__large
So come on in for a free demonstration and a free consultation
With our friendly, professional staff. Our courteous and
Knowledgeable sales representatives will help you make a
Selection that’s just right for you and just right for your budget.

And say, don’t forget to pick up your free gift: a classic deluxe
Custom designer luxury prestige high-quality premium select
Gourmet pocket flashlight.

And if you act now, we’ll include an extra added free complimentary
Bonus gift: a classic deluxe custom designer
Luxury prestige high-quality premium select gourmet leather style wallet.
With detachable keychain, and a pencil holder.
It’s our way of saying thank you.

dr-seuss-advertising-art-2

And if you’re not completely satisfied, you pay nothing.
Simply return the unused portion for a full refund, no questions asked.
It’s our way of saying thank you. Keep your free gift.

Actually, it’s our way of saying ‘Bend over just a little farther
And let us stick this big dick into your ass a little bit
Deeper.

AAEAAQAAAAAAAAduAAAAJGMxY2QyMDU1LWQ2Y2EtNDc5Zi1iNTZjLWFjYTIyMTMzN2ZmMA.jpg

DEVDAS – The Immortal Lover

Devdas Mukherjee: Such vanity? Not even the Moon is as vain.

Parvati: How could it be? The Moon is scarred. I’m not.

Devdas Mukherjee: You are so silly!

Parvati: Mention not.

A very good afternoon to everyone. Eid is approaching. Eid is something which I have cherished, always. My name is Nishant. By birth, I am a Hindu. By my soul worships ART.

If you would pose me a question,

What’s your religion?

Organised religion is a slow poison. I am an artist.

I worship the One.

One who creates.

The one who destroys and the one who loves.

I was raised in a Muslim community. Somehow I feel more close to Eid than a colorful Holi or a sparkling Diwali. I am a logical person with access to reasoning. I always weigh my options. I just couldn’t deduce a downside to celebrating Eid. I love Biryani. I love sewaiiyan. I love the way everyone has a pretty glance, it’s hypnotizing. I enjoy hypnosis. The way, for a day, everyone is giving, loving, and nobody expects any thing in return.

Young-Muslim-praying-after-the-adults.jpg

I dislike the fact that as a kid, people kicked me in the mud and threw eggs at me. I didn’t enjoy the way intoxicated men used to look at women, on the streets. I somehow felt they were predators waiting for an annual game of groping and raping.

The air smelled bad on the Diwali after morning. I had trouble breathing. So, I disliked Diwali.

Now, I enjoy all the festivals. Now I am a grown up. Grown ups know every festival spreads love. Kids don’t.

It’s Eid tomorrow. Aafreen messaged me. But she also said it’s ‘tentative’.

We all know, a corporation doesn’t control moon. So it all depends, when she wants us to enjoy the festival of love.

Love is a variety of different feelings, states, and attitudes that ranges from interpersonal affection (“I love my mother”) to pleasure (“I loved that meal”). It can refer to an emotion of a strong attraction and personal attachment. Love can also be a virtue representing human kindness, compassion, and affection—”the unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another”. It may also describe compassionate and affectionate actions towards other humans, one’s self or animals.

I enjoy the feeling of love. I am in love, all the time. I enjoy the feeling of love. Love can be toxic if you cannot handle it. Love also makes you selfish and mean. But the moment you start loving yourself, you start loving everyone, you are in an illusion. You are delusional, all the time. Love is a crazy state of mind. If you love everyone then you gotta be lunatic. A sane person cannot be in love all the time.

Let me just try naming few people, I love in 30 seconds. Isha, Khadija, Puja, Mommy, Papa, Mali, Insha, Arjun, Aditya, Shashank, Shruti, Manish, Nigar, Harshit, Ayush, Diksha, Kishu…etc. Okay, time’s up. If I get an hour, probably, you would get bored and click on the ‘X’ at the top right corner of your screen. I would not love that. So, I would refrain myself.

When you study love closely, you would realize, Love is destructive. Sati, jumped on her husband’s funeral pyre crying,

”I love you. I can not and will not imagine a life without you.”

She burned herself to death.

Love is intense. Love is passionate.

dev-d-41a

Bukowski said,

“Find something you love and let it kill you”

The quote you saw at the top was before the Immortal lover – Devdas, experienced love. Here’s what happens after he does:

Devdas Mukherjee: Who the hell drinks to tolerate life! I drink so that I can sit here, so that I can see you, so that I can tolerate you.

maxresdefault.jpg

And then,

Devdas Mukherjee: I object!

maxresdefault (1).jpg

 

Then,

Devdas Mukherjee: Bapuji said leave the village, everybody said leave Paro, Paro said leave alcohol. Today, you said leave home. One day he’ll say, leave the world.

a1da8c193676f5e6e5675b60341f4a0e

Please view the video below. Please do not fall in love, if you fear for your life.

 

Eid Mubarak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ADDICT

Addiction is a condition that results when a person engages in an activity  that can be pleasurable but the continuation of which becomes compulsive and interferes with ordinary responsibilities and concerns, such as work, relationships, or health. People who have developed an addiction may not be aware that their behavior is out of control and causing problems for themselves and others.

I guess..
I’m addicted to the bullshit, the drama, the pain.
Ludicrous on a panaroma, drivin me insane.
Still gives me fuel to my fire,
Fire in my soul, just can’t retire
Glorified then crucified, just Like Jesus Christ
Hell or heaven, still I write…
Do me a favor haters, no more favors tonight!

What u can’t trust, you shouldn’t lust

#RagemanJD

d93e6be76a8b4e003365faeea05b213c

Let’s get High! On lyf 

Kali – The Dark Mother Goddess

Om Kali, Kali! Om Kali, Kali!
Namostute, namostute, namo!
Namostute, namostute, namo!
 Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali
Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali
Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali
Om Kali Ma!

Hinduism is the world’s third largest religion, with over one billion followers or 15% of the global population, known as Hindus. The majority of Hindus reside in India, Nepal, Mauritius, the Caribbean, and Bali in Indonesia.

Prominent themes in Hindu beliefs include the four Puruṣārthas, the proper goals or aims of human life, namely Dharma (ethics/duties), Artha (prosperity/work), Kama (desires/passions) and Moksha (liberation/freedom/salvation); karma (action, intent and consequences), samsara (cycle of rebirth), and the various Yogas (paths or practices to attain moksha). Hindu practices include rituals such as puja (worship) and recitations, meditation, family-oriented rites of passage, annual festivals, and occasional pilgrimages. Some Hindus leave their social world and material possessions, then engage in lifelong Sannyasa (monastic practices) to achieve Moksha. Hinduism prescribes the eternal duties, such as honesty, refraining from injuring living beings (ahimsa), patience, forbearance, self-restraint, and compassion, among others.

Kālī  is a Hindu goddess. Kali is one of the ten Mahavidyas, a list which combines Sakta and Buddhist goddesses.

Kali’s earliest appearance is that of a destroyer of evil forces. She is also seen as divine protector and the one who bestows moksha, or liberation. Kali is often portrayed standing or dancing on her consort, the Hindu god Shiva (Lord Mahadev), who lies calm and prostrate beneath her. Kali is worshipped by Hindus throughout India.

In Kāli’s most famous legend, Durga and her assistants, the Matrikas, wound the demon Raktabija, in various ways and with a variety of weapons in an attempt to destroy him. They soon find that they have worsened the situation for with every drop of blood that is dripped from Raktabija he reproduces a clone of himself. The battlefield becomes increasingly filled with his duplicates. Durga summons Kāli to combat the demons. The Devi Mahatmyam describes:

Out of the surface of her (Durga’s) forehead, fierce with frown, issued suddenly Kali of terrible countenance, armed with a sword and noose. Bearing the strange khatvanga (skull-topped staff ), decorated with a garland of skulls, clad in a tiger’s skin, very appalling owing to her emaciated flesh, with gaping mouth, fearful with her tongue lolling out, having deep reddish eyes, filling the regions of the sky with her roars, falling upon impetuously and slaughtering the great asuras in that army, she devoured those hordes of the foes of the devas.

9tLW4HJKali consumes Raktabija and his duplicates, and dances on the corpses of the slain. In the Devi Mahatmya version of this story, Kali is also described as a Matrika and as a Shakti or power of Devi. She is given the epithet Cāṃuṇḍā (Chamunda), i.e. the slayer of the demons Chanda and Munda. Chamunda is very often identified with Kali and is very much like her in appearance and habit.

The name Kali means Kala or force of time. When there were neither the creation, nor the sun, the moon, the planets, and the earth, there was only darkness and everything was created from the darkness. The Dark appearance of Kali represents the darkness from which everything was born. Her complexion is deep blue, like the sky and ocean water as blue. As she is also the goddess of Preservation, Kali is worshiped as the preserver of nature.

Kali is standing calm on Shiva, her appearance represents the preservation of mother nature. Her free, long and black hair represents nature’s freedom from civilization. Under the third eye of kali, the signs of both sun, moon and fire are visible which represent the driving forces of nature.

Kali is not always thought of as a Dark Goddess. Despite Kali’s origins in battle, She evolved to a full-fledged symbol of Mother Nature in Her creative, nurturing and devouring aspects. She is referred to as a great and loving primordial Mother Goddess in the Hindu tantric tradition. In this aspect, as Mother Goddess, She is referred to as Kali Ma, meaning Kali Mother, and millions of Hindus revere Her as such.

Let’s pray to the mother –

सर्वमङ्गलमाङ्गल्ये शिवे सर्वार्थसाधिके । शरण्ये त्र्यम्बके गौरि नारायणि नमोऽस्तु ते ॥ॐ जयंती मंगल काली भद्रकाली कपालिनी । दुर्गा शिवा क्षमा धात्री स्वाहा स्वधा नमोऽस्तु‍ते ॥
(Sarvamaṅgalamāṅgalyē śivē sarvārthasādhikē . śaraṇyē tryambakē gauri nārāyaṇi namō’stu tē.

Oṃ jayantī mangala kālī bhadrakālī kapālinī . durgā ksamā śivā dhātrī svāhā svadhā namō’stu‍tē.)

Rachel Fell McDermott, Professor of Asian and Middle Eastern Cultures at Columbia University and author of several books on Kali, has noted the evolving views in the West regarding Kali and her worship.

A variety of writers and thinkers have found Kali an exciting figure for reflection and exploration, notably feminists and participants in New Age spirituality who are attracted to goddess worship. [For them], Kali is a symbol of wholeness and healing, associated especially with repressed female power and sexuality

Jai MAA KALI

Pray to Mother Kali, Pray to Mother Durge

Let’s Meditate – Spiritual Music

The new physics provides a modern version of ancient spirituality. In a universe made out of energy, everything is entangled; everything is one.

Remembrance of God in Islam, which is known by the concept Dhikr is interpreted in different meditative techniques in Sufism or Islamic mysticism. This became one of the essential elements of Sufism as it was systematized traditionally. It is juxtaposed with fikr (thinking) which leads to knowledge. By the 12th century, the practice of Sufism included specific meditative techniques, and its followers practiced breathing controls and the repetition of holy words.

Numerous Sufi traditions place emphasis upon a meditative procedure which comes from the cognitive aspect to one of the two principal approaches to be found in the Buddhist traditions: that of the concentration technique, involving high-intensity and sharply focused introspection. In the Oveyssi-Shahmaghsoudi Sufi order, for example, this is particularly evident, where muraqaba takes the form of tamarkoz, the latter being a Persian term that means concentration. Meditative quiescence is said to have a quality of healing, and—in contemporary terminology—enhancing creativity.

Meditation music is music performed to aid in the practice of meditation. It can have a specific religious content. Many Islamic scholars and artists meditate listening to the sound of Azaan. Likewise Hindu scholars and mystics meditate using chants like

hare kṛṣṇa hare kṛṣṇa
kṛṣṇa kṛṣṇa hare hare
hare rāma hare rāma
rāma rāma hare hare

 

Happy Higher Consciousness to you too!

Good Night

The Infamous Love Guru – OSHO

Truth is within you, do not search for it elsewhere.

Live wakefully, Die each moment so that you can be new each moment.

Do not search. That which is, is. Stop and see.

Love Guru – OSHO

Shree Rajneesh (born Chandra Mohan Jain, 11 December 1931 – 19 January 1990), also known as Osho, Acharya Rajneesh, or simply Rajneesh, was an Indian Godman and leader of the Rajneesh movement. During his lifetime he was viewed as a controversial mystic, guru, and spiritual teacher. In the 1960s he travelled throughout India as a public speaker and was a vocal critic of socialism, Mahatma Gandhi, and Hindu religious orthodoxy.[6] He advocated a more open attitude towards human sexuality, earning him the sobriquet “sex guru” in the Indian and later international press, although this attitude became more acceptable with time.

“When love expresses through you it first expresses as the body. It becomes sex. If it expresses through the mind, which is higher, deeper, subtler, then it is called love. If it expresses through the spirit, it becomes prayer….”

In 1970 Rajneesh spent time in Mumbai initiating followers known as “neo-sannyasins.” During this period he expanded his spiritual teachings and through his discourses gave an original insight into the writings of religious traditions, mystics, and philosophers from around the world. In 1974 Rajneesh relocated to Pune where a foundation and ashram was established to offer a variety of “transformational tools” for both Indian and international visitors. By the late 1970s, tension between the ruling Janata Party government of Morarji Desai and the movement led to a curbing of the ashram’s development.

aosho4

In 1981 efforts refocused on activities in the United States and Rajneesh relocated to a facility known as Rajneeshpuram in Wasco County, Oregon. Almost immediately the movement ran into conflict with county residents and the State government and a succession of legal battles concerning the ashram’s construction and continued development curtailed its success. In 1985, following the investigation of serious crimes including the 1984 Rajneeshee bioterror attack, and an assassination plot to murder US Attorney Charles H. Turner, Rajneesh alleged that his personal secretary Ma Anand Sheela and her close supportters had been responsible. He was later deported from the United States in accordance with an Alford plea bargain.

68314012.VHfLbKDX.rajneesh103

After his deportation 21 countries denied him entry, and he ultimately returned to India, and a reinvigorated Pune ashram, where he died in 1990. His ashram is today known as the Osho International Meditation Resort.

His syncretic teachings emphasise the importance of meditation, awareness, love, celebration, courage, creativity, and humor—qualities that he viewed as being suppressed by adherence to static belief systems, religious tradition, and socialisation. Rajneesh’s teachings have had a notable impact on Western New Age thought, and their popularity has increased markedly since his death.

“If everything goes well and sex is natural and flowing it is a beautiful experience because you can have a glimpse of the second through it. If sex goes really very deep, so that you forget yourself completely in it, you can even have a glimpse of the third through it. And if sex becomes a total orgasmic experience, there are rare moments when you can even have a glimpse of the fourth, the turiya, the beyond, through it.”
 
But if sex fails, then many perversions happen to the mind. These perversions are expressed in hatred. Hatred is a failure of sex, a failure of love energy. Violence, lust for money, the continuous conflicting attitudes of egos: war, politics – these are all sex perversions.”
a1826cc6fbc5e8c2d93240044dc76dd1.jpg

The Spy who din’t LOVE ME : Putin, Vladimir Putin

Demoralize the enemy from within by surprise, terror, sabotage, assassination. This is the war of the future.

Adolf Hitler

Good Evening Planet, Tonight’s entertainment is the most powerful, enigmatic, billionaire, socialite, also,

President of The cyber states of United Mother Russia

Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin 

(Crowd Cheers, Putin! Putin! Putin!) 

A Spy who didn’t LOVE me

President Putin is a macho, take-charge superhero. He takes shit from nobody and he never forgets. Ask Miss Clinton, she’s still devastated from her loss. Mr Putin and Ms Clinton were lovers once upon a time but she broke his heart. She also bad mouthed him in public like a soulless, crooked, jilted, lover. For her own political gains, she used Lover Putin and then threw him away like lady slippers.

Super-Putin doesn’t like anyone badmouthing him. He gets angry. He’s worse than HULK, when he’s angry. He starts riding dangerous animals to channelize his anger.

Putin loved Hillary more than he loved his KGB job as a Spy. She too fancied him. They spent some great times together. He was a spy who loved her deeply.

But she broke his heart. She rejected him saying,

“You were a KGB agent. By definition you don’t have a soul. You are incapable of loving someone.”

She orchestrated her hate just to win a position in the filthiest place of human history.

A place even painters shy away from. The White House.

Putin is of artistic nature. He loves colors as much as he loves his women. Putin hated Hillary for breaking his heart. He got Insomniac. He lost his appetite. He decided to go again into the jungle, to channelize his aggression, by taming wild animals. But this time he met someone. Someone completely lunatic. Someone who not only helped him channelize his energy in a healthy manner and helped him get revenge over Hillary. But also made him :

President of The cyber states of United Mother Russia

1putinforpresidentCOL.jpg

That remarkable person whom Putin met would be referred by historians in future as:

Bottom-Bitch Trump 

Here’s what Bottom-Bitch Trump says about Lover Putin:

“I would be willing to bet I would have great relationship with Putin. It’s all about love.”

 

Issue-9_Art_Humor_Putin-and-Trump-Christine-Jegarltrumputin26e-1-web

We would return soon after a short commercial break. Don’t go anywhere. Stay tuned in and subscribe to our blog, so that you do not miss such epic love stories.

Here’s what’s coming after break :

putin-trump-bitch

Mysticism : Deciphering Sant Kabir

 

“Listen, my friend. He who loves understands.”

Before we begin talking about one of the original mystics, Kabir, let’s understand Mysticism.

Mysticism is popularly known as becoming one with God or the Absolute, but may refer to any kind of ecstasy or altered state of consciousness which is given a religious or spiritual meaning. It may also refer to the attainment of insight in ultimate or hidden truths, and to human transformation supported by various practices and experiences.

Derived from the Greek word μυω, meaning “to conceal”, mysticism referred to the biblical liturgical, spiritual, and contemplative dimensions of early and medieval Christianity. During the early modern period, the definition of mysticism grew to include a broad range of beliefs and ideologies related to “extraordinary experiences and states of mind”.

In modern times, “mysticism” has acquired a limited definition, with broad applications, as meaning the aim at the “union with the Absolute, the Infinite, or God”. This limited definition has been applied to a wide range of religious traditions and practices, valuing “mystical experience” as a key element of mysticism.

“The Lord is in me, the Lord is in you, as life is in every seed, put false pride away and seek the Lord within..”
― Kabir

Kabir was a 15th-century Indian mystic poet and saint, whose writings influenced Hinduism’s Bhakti movement and his verses are found in Sikhism’s scripture Adi Granth. His early life was in a Muslim family, but he was strongly influenced by his teacher, the Hindu bhakti leader Ramananda.

Kabir is known for being critical of both Hinduism and Islam, stating that the former was misguided by the Vedas and the latter by the Quran, and questioning their meaningless rites of initiation such as the sacred thread and circumcision respectively. During his lifetime, he was threatened by both Hindus and Muslims for his views. When he died, both Hindus and Muslims he had inspired claimed him as theirs.

“Listen to the secret sound, the real sound, which is inside you. The one no one talks of speaks the secret sound to himself, and he is the one who has made it all.”

Kabir suggested that True God is with the person who is on the path of righteousness, considered all creatures on earth as his own self, and who is passively detached from the affairs of the world. To know God, suggested Kabir, meditate with the mantra Rāma, Rāma.

Kabir’s legacy survives and continues through the Kabir panth (“Path of Kabir”), a religious community that recognizes him as its founder and is one of the Sant Mat sects. Its members are known as Kabir panthis.

Some scholars state that Kabir’s parents may have been recent converts to Islam, they and Kabir were likely unaware of Islamic orthodox tradition, and are likely to have been following the Nath (Shaiva Yogi) school of Hinduism. This view, while contested by other scholars, has been summarized by Charlotte Vaudeville as follows:

Circumcised or not, Kabir was officially a musalman, though it appears likely that some form of Nathism was his ancestral tradition. This alone would explain his relative ignorance of Islamic tenets, his remarkable acquaintance with Tantric-yoga practices and his lavish use of its esoteric jargon [in his poems]. He appears far more conversant with Nath-panthi basic attitudes and philosophy than with the Islamic orthodox tradition.

— Charlotte Vaudeville on Kabir (1974), 

Some commentators suggest Kabir’s philosophy to be a syncretic synthesis of Hinduism and Islam, but scholars widely state that this is false and a misunderstanding of Kabir. He adopted their terminology and concepts, but vigorously criticized them both. He questioned the need for any holy book, as stated in Kabir Granthavali as follows:

Reading book after book the whole world died,
and none ever became learned!

— Kabir Granthavali, XXXIII.3, Translated by Charlotte Vaudeville

Many scholars interpret Kabir’s philosophy to be questioning the need for religion, rather than attempting to propose either Hindu-Muslim unity or an independent synthesis of a new religious tradition. Kabir rejected the hypocrisy and misguided rituals evident in various religious practices of his day, including those in Islam and Hinduism.

Saints I’ve seen both ways.
Hindus and Muslims don’t want discipline, they want tasty food.
The Hindu keeps the eleventh-day fast, eating chestnuts and milk.
He curbs his grain but not his brain, and breaks his fast with meat.
The Turk [Muslim] prays daily, fasts once a year, and crows “God!, God!” like a cock.
What heaven is reserved for people who kill chickens in the dark?
Instead of kindness and compassion, they’ve cast out all desire.
One kills with a chop, one lets the blood drop, in both houses burns the same fire.
Turks and Hindus have one way, the guru’s made it clear.
Don’t say Ram, don’t say Khuda [Allah], so says Kabir.

— Kabir, Śabda 10, Translated by Linda Hess and Shukdeo Singh

In Bijak, Kabir mocks the practice of praying to avatars such as Buddha of Buddhism, by asserting “don’t call the master Buddha, he didn’t put down devils”. Kabir urged people to look within and consider all human beings as manifestation of God’s living forms:

If God be within the mosque, then to whom does this world belong?
If Ram be within the image which you find upon your pilgrimage,
then who is there to know what happens without?
Hari is in the East, Allah is in the West.
Look within your heart, for there you will find both Karim and Ram;
All the men and women of the world are His living forms.
Kabir is the child of Allah and of Ram: He is my Guru, He is my Pir.

— Kabir, III.2, Translated by Rabindranath Tagore

Charlotte Vaudeville states that the philosophy of Kabir and other sants of the Bhakti movement is the seeking of the Absolute. The notion of this Absolute is nirguna which, writes Vaudeville, is same as “the Upanishadic concept of the Brahman-Atman and the monistic Advaita interpretation of the Vedantic tradition, which denies any distinction between the soul [within a human being] and God, and urges man to recognize within himself his true divine nature”. Vaudeville notes that this philosophy of Kabir and other Bhakti sants is self-contradictory, because if God is within, then that would be a call to abolish all external bhakti. This inconsistency in Kabir’s teaching may have been differentiating “union with God” from the concept of “merging into God, or Oneness in all beings”. Alternatively, states Vaudeville, the saguna prema-bhakti (tender devotion) may have been prepositioned as the journey towards self-realization of the nirguna Brahman, a universality beyond monotheism.

Kabir has been criticised for his depiction of women. Nikky-Guninder Kaur Singh states, “Kabir’s opinion of women is contemptuous and derogatory”. Wendy Doniger concludes Kabir had a misogynist bias. For Kabir, states Schomer, woman is “Kali nagini (a black cobra), kunda naraka ka (the pit of hell), juthani jagata ki (the refuse of the world)”. According to Kabir, a woman prevents man’s spiritual progress.

Woman ruins everything when she comes near man;
Devotion, liberation, and divine knowledge no longer enter his soul.

— Kabir, Translated by Nikky-Guninder Kaur Singh

Singh states that this outlook of Kabir about women and their role in human quest for spirituality was not shared with Nanak who founded Sikhism. Surjit Singh Gandhi also agrees with this.

In contrast to Singh’s interpretation of Kabir’s gender views, Dass interprets Rag Asa section of Adi Granth as Kabir asking a young married woman to stop veiling her face, and not to adopt such social habits. Dass adds that Kabir’s poetry can be interpreted in two ways, one literally where the woman refers to human female, another allegorically where woman is symbolism for his own soul and Rama is the Lord-husband.

 

I guess the above stated material serves the need of hate propaganda for all the religions. So that’s why, Let’s go to Riot. Let’s take out axes and pitchforks and kill each other in the name of religion. I hope God would save you. You are essential. This entire planet thrives because of you and your closest advisor called GREED. Or let’s understand this quote and pray to the ALMIGHTY.

“बुरा जो देखण मैं चला, बुरा ना मिलया कोए
जो मन खोजा अपना, तो मुझसे बुरा ना कोए”

When I went looking for evil, I found it lurking inside, In my soul!

Translated by Nishant

Meera – The mystic lover Poetess

 

Don’t forget love;
it will bring all the madness you need
to unfurl yourself across the universe.

  • Mīrābāī, in ” Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West

Perhaps the most remembered and quoted woman in India history is a sixteenth century poet, singer and saint called Mirabai, or Meera. Versions of her songs are sung today all over India, and she appears as a subject in films, books, dances, plays and paintings. Even Mahatma Gandhi promoted her, seeing Mira as a symbol of a woman who has the right to chose her own path, forsake a life of luxury, and in nonviolent resistance find liberation.

Mirabai belonged to the Rajput aristocracy. From an early age, she worshiped the image of Krishna. Her form of worship was influenced by a number of her male relatives who were devotees of a mystical form of Hinduism called Bhakti.

In the Bhakti tradition, one approached one’s god through pure love, without any restrictions of caste, color, or gender.

Many Bhakti followers gave up their worldly life and left their families to became wandering teachers or live together in like-minded communities. Their message usually was spread through deeply personal poems through which they conversed with their chosen God. Female devotees who aspired to live this life also had to give up their husbands and family. They had to live among people from a variety of castes, including those considered forbidden to them. In spite of what many felt were acts of subversive, some who overcame obstacles to follow their spiritual quests in time became respected and even revered.

In 1516 Mirabai was married to Prince Bhoj Raj of the Rajput kingdom of Mewar, the most powerful Rajput state in the early 16th century. It’s capital was Chittor. From the start Mira was a problem. She refused to worship her husband’s family’s goddess (devi), claiming that she already had offered herself to Lord Krishna and considered herself married to him. She refused the family’s gifts of silks and jewels. She insisting on associating with the community of bhaktas. And when her husband died after only three short years, Mirabai refused to join him on his funeral pyre, a practice at the time expected of high caste Rajput widows. Instead she claimed that now she was free to devote herself completely to the worship of Krishna.

Mira’s devotional practices became increasingly intense. She often sang and danced herself into ecstasies, even in public places like temples. News about her spread all over India and she soon attracted a following of devotees from all social groups and castes.

My Dark One has gone to an alien land.
He has left me behind, he’s never returned, he’s never sent me a single word.
So I’ve stripped off my ornaments, jewels and adornments, cut my hair from my head.
And put on holy garments, all on his account, seeking him in all four directions.
Mira: unless she meets the Dark One, her Lord, she doesn’t even want to live.

— Mira Bai, Translated by John Stratton Hawley

Mira lived in a time and place when the sexual virtue of women was fiercely guarded. Her husband’s family was shocked by her actions and finally locked her inside the house. In her songs Mira says that on two occasions they tried to kill her, but she was miraculously saved both times. At some point she left the palace and city of Chittor and returned to her birth family. They too disapproved of her actions. Sometime around 1527 she set off as a wanderer, traveling to places of pilgrimage associated with the life of Krishna. Her popularity grew. Before she even arrived at the site, people gathered singing her songs. Mirabai returned once briefly to her home, but in the face of further family harassment decided to leave the kingdom of Chittor for good. She passed her last days in Dwarka on the coast of the Arabian sea, the site believed to be that of Krishna’s youth.

Mira’s life resonates in the hearts of many in India today for many reasons. First there are her words, which with beauty and joy express a kind of female liberation. In them, her rejection and even disdain of the wealthy and their life of riches also appeals to the poor. Then there is her rebellion, which is seen as being against injustice within the family and within kinship groups in general.

While valuing women as mothers above all, India also reveres the self-expression of Mira, a childless woman who is identified as having rebelled against her husband and in-laws.

Love is something absolutely unselfish, that which has no thought beyond the glorification and adoration of the object upon which our affections are bestowed. It is a quality which bows down and worships and asks nothing in return. Merely to love is the sole request that true love has to ask. It is said of a Hindu saint (Mirabai) that when she was married, she said to her husband, the king, that she was already married.
To whom?” asked the king.
To God,” was the reply.

Swami Vivekananda in “Others on Mirabai”

Hare Rama Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare

Khadija the Great

“God Almighty never granted me anyone better in this life than her. She accepted me when people rejected me; she believed in me when people doubted me; she shared her wealth with me when people deprived me; and Allah granted me children only through her.”

Welcome back readers. Ramadan Kareem!

Today’s Iftar entertainment is the least talked about, yet the greatest of all times, Love story. It’s about a not so simple girl Khadījah al-Kubra who later on became the “Mother of the Believers” (Khadijah the Great) and attained the status of the most important female figures in Islam.

 Khadija was a daughter of a merchant. She was scholarly and inquisitive. Khadija married three times and had children from all her marriages. Her husbands met accidental demise. And Khadija was all by herself in a big, ugly, misogynist society. Khadija has also been referred in many texts as the “Wise One“. She was a highly driven and intelligent person, like our today’s corporate women.

Due to her eloquent personality and great business skills, Khadija became a very successful caravan merchant in no time.  It is said that when the Quraysh’s trade caravans gathered to embark upon their summer journey to Syria or winter journey to Yemen, Khadija’s caravan equalled the caravans of all other traders of the Quraysh put together. She was known by the by-names Ameerat-Quraysh (“Princess of Quraysh”), al-Tahira (“The Pure One”) and Khadija Al-Kubra (Khadija “the Great”). It is said that she fed and clothed the poor, assisted her relatives financially and provided marriage portions for poor relations. Khadija was said to have neither believed in nor worshipped idols.

Khadija did not travel with her trade caravans; she employed others to trade on her behalf for a commission. One day, Khadija needed an agent for a transaction in Syria. Khadija needed someone who could be trusted.

Muhammad who was 25 years old, due to his helping attitude was addressed as Al-Sadiq (“the Truthful”) and Al-Amin (“the Trustworthy” or “Honest”). Khadija hired Muhammad, offering to pay double her usual commission. 

She sent one of her servants, Maysarah, to assist him. Upon returning, Maysarah gave accounts of the honorable way that Muhammad had conducted his business, with the result that he brought back twice as much profit as Khadija had expected. Maysarah also relayed that on the return journey, Muhammad had stopped to rest under a tree. A passing monk, informed Maysarah that, “None but a prophet ever sat beneath this tree.”

Khadija became joyful because the same morning, she had a dream in which the sun descended from the sky into her courtyard, fully illuminating her home. She knew what her heart wanted now. Because of her social status many wealthy Quraysh men had already asked for her hand in marriage, but she had refused all of them. She had waited long for her knight in shining armor, and finally the wait was over.

But Khadija din’t know how to express her love. She used to engage in long conversations with Muhammad, on false pretext of work, hoping someday she would have the courage to say her feeling. But she never could. Somehow when Muhammad looked at her, time used to freeze. There are many texts which indicate that one day, Muhammad came to Khadija and looked into her eyes and they both stood silently, staring at each other blankly, till the nightfall. This captivating event was interrupted by, Khadija ‘s entrusted friend named Nafisa.

Nafisa was aware of Khadija’s feeling towards Muhammad. Nafisa suggested Muhammad to consider marrying. Muhammad was hesitant because he had no money to support a wife.

 But as they say,

“It might take a year. It might take a day. But, what’s meant to be will always find a way.”

Weeks later, love struck, Muhammad and Khadija consulted their respective uncles. The uncles agreed to the marriage, and Muhammad’s uncles accompanied him to make a formal proposal to Khadija. Khadija’s uncle accepted the proposal, and the marriage took place.

Muhammad and Khadija were married monogamously for twenty-five years. When Muhammad reported his first revelation from the Angel Gabriel, Khadija was the first person to convert to Islam.

After his experience in the cave of Hira, Muhammad returned home to Khadija in a state of terror, pleading for her to cover him with a blanket. After calming down, he described the encounter to Khadija, who comforted him with the words:

“Allah would surely protect him from any danger, and would never allow anyone to revile him as he was a man of peace and reconciliation and always extended the hand of friendship to all.”

According to some sources, it was Khadija’s cousin, Waraka ibn Nawfal, who confirmed Muhammad’s prophethood soon afterwards.

Muhammad and Khadija had six children. Khadija died in “Ramadan” of the year 10 after the Prophethood”, Muhammad later called this tenth year “the Year of Sorrow

So this was the greatest love story of all times – Khadija n Muhammad.

Love is not about how many days, months or years you’ve been together. Love is about how much you love each other everyday.

‘A’ishah, whom Muhammed married later, narrated of Muhammed and Khadijah in Sahih Bukhari:

“I did not feel jealous of any of the wives of the Prophet as much as I did of Khadijah though I did not see her, but the Prophet used to mention her very often, and when ever he slaughtered a sheep, he would cut its parts and send them to the women friends of Khadijah. When I sometimes said to him, “(You treat Khadijah in such a way) as if there is no woman on Earth except Khadijah,” he would say, “Khadijah was such-and-such, and from her I had children.”

 It is also narrated: The Messenger of Allah said: “The best of its women is Khadijah bint Khuwailid”

muslim_couple_by_rokaaazz-d4dpcar.jpg
Disclaimer : The image above represents a couple in love. It is not a sketch of Prophet and his wife. 

 

 

Caliphate ISIL : An absurd comedy of Errors – II

ISIL has as much to do with Islam as the Ku Klux Klan has to do with Christianity.

“Muslims are the primary victims of ISIL. Muslims are the ones who want to do the most to defeat this ideology. It’s important that we don’t do their propaganda for them, by giving them the legitimacy that they crave.”

Dalia Mogahed
American-Egyptian researcher

Broken Radio welcomes you all, to Episode 2 of your favorite TV Show

Caliphate ISIL : An absurd comedy of Errors.

Here’s Recap for you :

Prophet Muhammad is viewed as the final prophet of God in primary branches of Islam. The first caliphate, the Rashidun Caliphate, was established immediately after Muhammad’s death in 632, often referred by the term Dil Dil Caliphate. Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant declared itself a caliphate under Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi on 29 June 2014 and renamed itself as the “Islamic State“, always referred as The Evil Death Cult. Something must have gone terribly wrong in the world between the first and the last Caliphate. Lets find out.

ISIL has achieved a status which Bin Laden did not even dream of. Unlike Al Qaeda, which has generally been methodical about organizing and controlling its terror cells, the more opportunistic Islamic State is content to crowd-source its social media activity—and its violence—out to individuals with whom it has no concrete ties. And the organization does not make this happen in the shadows; it does so openly in the West’s most beloved precincts of the Internet, co-opting the digital services that have become woven into our daily lives. As a result, the Islamic State’s brand has permeated our cultural atmosphere to an outsize degree.

Laden was an old, runaway, who hid in caves and was hunted down by U.S Seals in our friendly neighbor Pakistan’s house. Laden used to take 7 months in order to finalize a video script. Laden had absolutely no online presence. Laden didn’t even have a credible FB Page. Isis on the other hand  is as much a media conglomerate as a fighting force.

ISIL originated as Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad in 1999, which pledged allegiance to Al-Qaeda and participated in the Iraqi insurgency following the 2003 invasion of Iraq by Western forces. The group proclaimed itself a worldwide caliphate and began referring to itself as Islamic State (الدولة الإسلامية ad-Dawlah al-Islāmiyah) or IS in June 2014. As a caliphate, it claims religious, political, and military authority over all Muslims worldwide. Its adoption of the name Islamic State and its idea of a caliphate have been widely criticised, with the United Nations, various governments, and mainstream Muslim groups rejecting its statehood.

In the year 2003, this happened in Iraq :

An invasion began on 20 March 2003, with the U.S., joined by the United Kingdom and several coalition allies, launching a “shock and awe” bombing campaign. Iraqi forces were quickly overwhelmed as U.S. forces swept through the country. The invasion led to the collapse of the Ba’athist government; President Hussein was captured during Operation Red Dawn in December of that same year and executed by a military court three years later. However, the power vacuum following Saddam’s demise and the mismanagement of the occupation led to widespread sectarian violence between Shias and Sunnis, as well as a lengthy insurgency against U.S. and coalition forces.

The Bush administration based its rationale for the war principally on the assertion that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) and that the Iraqi government posed an immediate threat to the United States and its coalition allies. Select U.S. officials accused Saddam of harboring and supporting Al-Qaeda, while others cited the desire to end a repressive dictatorship and bring democracy to the people of Iraq. After the invasion, no substantial evidence was found to verify the initial claims about WMDs. The rationale and misrepresentation of pre-war intelligence faced heavy criticism within the U.S. and internationally.

Here is what really happened. The international community, especially the U.S., always viewed Saddam as a bellicose tyrant who was a threat to the stability of the region. After the September 11 attacks, Vladimir Putin began to tell the United States that Iraq was preparing terrorist attacks against the United States.

President George W. Bush spoke of an “axis of evil” consisting of Iran, North Korea, and Iraq. Moreover, Bush announced that he would possibly take action to topple the Iraqi government, because of the threat of its weapons of mass destruction. Bush stated that

“The Iraqi regime has plotted to develop anthrax, and nerve gas, and nuclear weapons for over a decade … Iraq continues to flaunt its hostility toward America and to support terror.”

Clearly terror was the only talking point in this conversation.

Terror has a good market. Terror sells.

quote-terrorism-is-the-best-political-weapon-for-nothing-drives-people-harder-than-a-fear-adolf-hitler-59-65-98Hitler-12

After the said war was over, President Bush gave a Mission Accomplished Speech.

Bush’s speech noted:

We have difficult work to do in Iraq. We are bringing order to parts of that country that remain dangerous.

Our mission continues…The War on Terror continues, yet it is not endless. We do not know the day of final victory, but we have seen the turning of the tide.

The speech also said that:

Major combat operations in Iraq have ended. In the battle of Iraq, the United States and our allies have prevailed.quote-the-reason-we-start-a-war-is-to-fight-a-war-win-a-war-thereby-causing-no-more-war-george-w-bush-64-63-101-vEyDX9zQR46_zGZUqvKgTQ

This was the end of the so called WAR Against Terror.

Let’s catch up again tomorrow. Same time. And subscribe to the blog, leave comments too. Here’s a food for thought for you!

art-on-terror

@brokenradiocreatives @ishasingh10

Let’s go to Nuclear War!

“There is no procedural or institutional mechanism that can stop a president from giving an order to use nuclear weapons”

You can exhale, though: Most nuclear security experts are not particularly worried by this aspect of the Trump presidency.

Let’s consider some options, a nuclear strike on a civilian target could realistically happen in one of two ways: Either

  1. tensions between two nuclear states rise to the point where a single miscommunication or technical failure could trigger a launch; or,
  2. a terrorist organization could acquire nuclear weapons capabilities.

So how likely is either scenario?

The nuclear football as it appeared during the administrations of Bill Clinton, George W. Bush and Ronald Reagan.

 

State use of nuclear weapons is more likely than you think.

On the state side, there are a number of ongoing conflicts that could, in theory, go nuclear at any time. “Increasingly, some regional powers are relying on nuclear weapons for their day-to-day security against conventional conflict,” said Vipin Narang, author of “Nuclear Strategies in the Modern Era.” “If they think that a conventional invasion is coming — whether it is or not — they may be worried that the nuclear forces that they rely on for their survival might be threatened … there may be what’s sometimes called a ‘use it or lose it’ situation.”

The conflict that topped experts’ list of clashes to be concerned about is India-Pakistan. Both states have developed nuclear weapons outside the jurisdiction of the Non-Proliferation Treaty, both states have limited capabilities, which may incentivize early use, and both states — though their public doctrines are intentionally ambiguous — are known to have contingency plans involving nuclear first strikes against military targets.

Then there’s North Korea, whose recent missile tests have brought renewed attention to the state’s nuclear weapons program, which has spurred international trade sanctions. The Korean War never officially ended, so North Korea is still technically facing the threat of a U.S.-backed South Korea, and nuclear weapons remain central to North Korea’s national defense strategy. Some experts believe that the seemingly erratic behavior of the Kim regime is in fact strategic: If you’re handcuffed to your adversary on top of a cliff, dancing erratically near the edge is a smart way to extract concessions.

Beyond these two clear danger zones, several experts cited U.S.-Russia or Iran-Israel as distant third-place threats to go nuclear, with one suggesting that U.S.-China could heat up in coming years as the situation in the South China Sea develops.

In any of these active conflicts, we shouldn’t necessarily expect that fear of mutually assured destruction will save the day. We can’t say with any confidence how likely a nuclear conflict is because we don’t know what a total war between two nuclear states would look like — we’ve never had one.

Nuclear terrorism is plausible, but difficult to pull off.

Similarly, just because there’s never been a nuclear terrorist attack doesn’t mean that it will never happen. In theory, if a non-state actor got a hold of enough fissile material — the active ingredient in nuclear weapons — it would be relatively easy for them to assemble and detonate a bomb, according to Robert Rosner, former chief scientist and laboratory director at Argonne National Laboratory. “You’d need some physicists who know what they’re doing,” Rosner said. “But based on what’s available in the public literature, you could go ahead and make a uranium bomb.” Detection and prevention at this point would be very difficult, Rosner says — a weapon could be assembled in a garage and smuggled in a standard box truck.

A terrorist with nuclear ambitions, then, would have to acquire existing fissile material from one of the nine nuclear states, which could happen in one of two ways. First, there’s open theft, either of fissile material or of a fully assembled weapon. This would likely require a firefight, according to Rosner — nuclear facilities have armed guards — which would alert authorities to the presence of a threat. Second, which is the likelier possibility according to several of the experts I talked to, is through the assistance of an insider: A double agent with terrorist sympathies could infiltrate a state’s nuclear apparatus and simply deliver a weapon to a non-state actor.

On both counts, Pakistan again emerged as the consensus pick for the No. 1 cause for concern, largely due to its instability. “If the Pakistani state does collapse, it probably wouldn’t collapse in one big bang, but slowly become more and more dysfunctional,” said Ramamurti Rajaraman, professor emeritus of physics at Jawaharlal Nehru University.

Finally, an act of nuclear terrorism would require the existence of a non-state actor that had both the organizational sophistication and the military ambition to entertain the prospect of nuclear violence. We got The ISIL Caliphate for that.

 

Humanity’s best recourse, if we (prudently) assume that accidents are inevitable, is to back away from the edge of the cliff until we can afford a stumb.

Nuclear disarmament is the only way to get rid of the threat. That is simply not happening right now.

Hopefully nobody is crazy enough to drop one,” said Rajaraman. “But nobody has the guts to get rid of them. I think it’s going to go on like this until something stupid happens.” Hopefully and crazy are variables in this equation.

 

 

Caliphate ISIL : An absurd comedy of Errors – I

Ramadan Kareem!

“The most excellent Jihad is that for the conquest of self.”

Prophet Muhammad was a renowned scholar and founder of Islam. According to Islamic doctrine, he was God’s Messenger, sent to confirm the essential teachings of monotheism preached previously by Adam, Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and other prophets.

He is viewed as the final prophet of God in primary branches of Islam.

Asiya (wife of the Pharaoh), Mary (mother of Jesus), Khadija (wife of Muhammad) and Fatimah (daughter of Muhammad) are considered as female prophets by many.

Muhammad united Arabia into a single Muslim polity and ensured that his teachings, practices, and the Quran, formed the basis of Islamic religious belief.

Muhammad was spiritually awakened after his seclusion in a mountain cave named Hira for several nights in complete darkness. The night is darkest just before the dawn. Mohammad survived the dark night of decree.

He was paid a visit by Gabriel and Muhammad received his first revelation from God. Three years later, in 610, Muhammad started preaching these revelations publicly, proclaiming that “God is One“, that complete “surrender” to him is the right course of action and that he was a prophet and messenger of God, similar to the other prophets in Islam. The revelations (each known as Ayah, lit. “Sign [of God]”), which Muhammad reported receiving until his death, form the verses of the Quran, regarded by Muslims as the “Word of God” and around which the religion is based. 

In modern culture terms, Muhammad’s saying became viral and Muhammad became a respected celebrity overnight. Fame comes with haters. Meccan tribe leaders became wary of Muhammad’s growing popularity. They orchestrated unrest and wished to prosecute him. Reward was offered to anyone who assisted his capture.

To escape persecution, Muhammad migrated from Mecca to Medina in the year 622. Initially, Medina was not very welcoming towards Muhammad. He experienced a lot of hostility. In Medina he wrote a  book titled ‘Charter of Medina‘. This book helped him unite the tribes and gain popularity. In December 629, after eight years of intermittent conflict with Meccan tribes, Muhammad gathered an army of 10,000 Muslim converts and marched on the city of Mecca. The attack went largely uncontested and Muhammad seized the city with little bloodshed. In 632, a few months after returning from the Farewell Pilgrimage, he fell ill and died. Before his death, most of the Arabian Peninsula had converted to Islam.

Muhammad’s death started the power struggle for the next successor. The standard Arabian practice at the time was for the prominent men of a kinship group, or tribe, to gather after a leader’s death and elect a leader from amongst themselves.

A caliphate (Arabic: خِلافة‎‎ khilāfa) is a territory under the leadership of an Islamic Leader known as a caliph, a person considered a religious successor to the Islamic prophet Muhammad and a leader of the entire Muslim community. The first caliphate, the Rashidun Caliphate, was established immediately after Muhammad’s death in 632.

Muhammad established his capital in Medina; after he died, it remained the capital during the Rashidun Caliphate.

Okay, I do understand that as much captivating Muhammad’s journey might sound to you, you are waiting for me to talk about the most popular TV show of all times –

ISIL : An absurd comedy of Errors

It’s been a long time since the first Caliphate fell. The last one however just came in existence. Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant declared itself a caliphate under Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi on 29 June 2014 and renamed itself as the “Islamic State“.

This group has been designated a terrorist organisation by the United Nations and many individual countries. ISIL is widely known for its videos of beheadings of both soldiers and civilians, including journalists and aid workers, and its destruction of cultural heritage sites.

The United Nations holds ISIL responsible for human rights abuses and war crimes, and Amnesty International has charged the group with ethnic cleansing on a “historic scale” in northern Iraq.

Prophet Muhammad’s Caliphate is often referred by the term Dil Dil Caliphate.

( My heart loves my country)

ISIL is referred as The Evil Death Cult.

Something must have gone terribly wrong in the world between the first and the last Caliphate. Lets find out. I am gonna research and present you the facts tomorrow.

For the time being, I present to you, a little pictorial food for thought!

vlad-and-assadus-drones-in-pakistan

Shab-ba-khair!

Hijab – A Veil worn by Muslim Women

Hijab – A Veil worn by Muslim Women

I am extremely agitated by the fact that I am investing my time addressing an issue about a piece of cloth worn by women. I was under the impression that feminists were taking care of it. But I was wrong. I guess I need to be more in tune with popular media.

Today morning I saw a video as per YouTube’s recommendation. It was a talk show. A friend of mine was in it. Hanna Yusuf. She is a freelance writer with an interest in feminism, interfaith matters, and the European-Muslim identity. She tweets at @HannaAYusuf.

She was addressing a recent EU court ruling.

‘Employers are entitled to ban workers from wearing headscarves.’

Let’s act as human beings for a second. Hijab as per the popular culture belief is a veil traditionally worn by Muslim women in the presence of adult males outside of their immediate family, which usually covers the head and chest.

But that is not entirely true. Let’s replace the term Hijab with Veil. Veiling did not originate with the advent of Islam. Statuettes depicting veiled priestesses precede all major Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Judaism, and Islam), dating back as far as 2500 BCE.

 Elite women in ancient Mesopotamia and in the Byzantine, Greek, and Persian empires wore the veil as a sign of respectability and high status. 

Prophet Mohammed was a renowned scholar. People swarmed to meet him from all across the globe.

He says in Sura 33:53

“And when you ask [his wives] for something, ask them from behind a partition. That is purer for your hearts and their hearts”.

Even you won’t like, your wife, talking to total strangers. This verse, however, was not addressed to women in general, but exclusively to Muhammad’s wives. As Muhammad’s influence increased, he entertained more and more visitors in the mosque, which was then his home. Often, these visitors stayed the night only feet away from his wives’ apartments. It is commonly understood that this verse was intended to protect his wives from these strangers.

There you go. It’s not a Muslim thing. Popular culture, please correct yourself.

I fancy Rockstars. I have a Black T-shirt. I used to wear it on Fridays at work. (Once upon a time, I was a corporate slave too) It used to say Peace Love Rock n Roll. I happily wore it to work. Nobody questioned me. I did not offend anyone.

As per the EU court ruling, any worker wearing headscarves at work can be banned. But the detailed synopsis suggests it only applies to Muslim Women. If a White American Women decides to wear a headscarf because she finds the look to be cool or she too thinks, hair are private, and doesn’t wish to display in public, it’s acceptable.  Further analysis suggests that the ruling has been taken keeping in mind that Hijab is offensive to people and preaches religion.

I am a man. Women wear barely impact my life in any manner. But I was wondering, what if tomorrow EU decides that my black T-shirt is spreading the religion Rock and my tee is offensive. I would be outraged. I act stupid when I am outraged. I burn things.

Anyways I am no expert in women wear, so I leave it on you. Below are two pics. One is of Hanna and other one is of Queen Rania of Jordan. None of them offend me. But as per EU, Hanna should and Queen Rania shouldn’t. Do leave comments on the blog if you find Hanna’s headscarf offensive. Comment is free. And subscribe to my blog if you liked the article. Happy Ramadan!

maxresdefaultbg12

No Biryani for You Mister!

 

Biryani is a South Asian mixed rice dish with its origins among the Muslims of the Indian subcontinent. It is popular throughout the subcontinent and among the diaspora from the region. It is generally made with spices, rice, and meat.

I am a lonely, broke writer. Meals are a rare sight in our profession.

I always look forward to tricking people into inviting me to their houses for a nice, warm meal.

Insha is a wonderful cook and a friend. Her lover Kabir is a wonderful host and a friend. I managed to secure an invite for lunch.

Life is full of treats. But life too, like all of us, wants to have a little fun, every now and then.

I reached her house in G.K II, New Delhi. It was afternoon. I like earning my meals. After an intensely painful and lengthy story telling session, I was served lunch. There was no Biryani.

I felt I was hit by a freight train. All my castles of hopes and dreams lie shattered in pieces, in front of my eyes.

Survival instincts kicked in.

Me: Innu, I would love to eat Biryani someday. Please invite me next weekend. I am in town till then. It is always a great pleasure to spend the time with you. You guys make me feel like family.

Insha: Awwww, Nish, You so sweet. Sure, I would Whatsapp you an exclusive Biryani Invite.

I patted my back. Job well done. A good meal, soon. I like the sound of it.

We finished our lunch and sat for another story telling session. It was interrupted by a neighborly women entrance. She seemed to have nothing better to do that evening. She very tactfully stole my audience.

Neighbor: Innu, You should buy a new car. I see Kabir has a car but you do not.

Insha: I do not need a new car. I barely go to any place alone.

Neighbor: That is wonderful but in the case of emergency, you should always have a spare car. You never know what might happen. Delhi is a very unsafe place. Also, everyone has a car. You should get one too.

I and Kabir looked at each other and buried our burst of laughter, within our souls. I soon bid their goodbye and left.

When you run a white collar scam like this, you need to run a very tight show. Follow-up is essential.

I messaged Insha under false pretext after three days. She was doing great.

She had bought a new car. I couldn’t stop myself from calling her.

Insha: I got a new car.

Me: Why?

Insha: I wanted one and Kabir gave me a surprise this morning. He is the best. He loves me so much.

Me: No, no and no. You bought a new car because of social pressure. You are a victim of a corporate-endorsed society. Your subconscious was tricked using a vicious and rare marketing tool.

Shame.

Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need.

Shame is a powerful advertising tool. Public humiliation is our biggest fear. We want to stand tall. An I-phone, a DSLR, an expensive car, helps you achieve that.

Anyways, After our phone conversation, Insha never invited me for Biryani. This Ramadan I was really missing Biryani. So thought of her. May Allah bless her soul. And I am not a quitter. Someday, I would again trick her into inviting me for Biryani. Until that day, May Allah give me strength.

%d bloggers like this: