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

 

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

Waterfalls – Revisiting The 90’s

“Waterfalls” , the hit 1994 Grammy nominated single was TLC’s hard hitting portrayal of how people chase intangible dreams without sparing a thought to the consequences of their actions. The words remain true even today.

Lisa-Lopes

A lonely mother gazing out of the window
Staring at her son that she just can’t touch
If at any time he’s in a jam, she’ll be by his side
But he doesn’t realize he hurts her so much
But all the praying just ain’t helping at all
Cause he can’t seem to keep his self out of trouble
So he goes out and he makes his money the best way he knows how
Another body laying cold in the gutter
Listen to me

The first verse of the song describes an inner city mother & son relationship. The mother knows he is chasing “waterfalls” (money and respect by dealing drugs), but worries for him because she is all too aware that the actions of his son cannot end well. She tries praying it all away but to no avail and so the helpless mother is in a painful place.

Don’t go chasing waterfalls
Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to
I know that you’re gonna have it your way or nothing at all
But I think you’re moving too fast

Little precious has a natural obsession for temptation
But he just can’t see
She gives him loving that his body can’t handle
But all he can say is, “Baby it’s good to me”
One day he goes and take a glimpse in the mirror
But he doesn’t recognize his own face
His health is fading and he doesn’t know why
Three letters took him to his final resting place
Y’all, don’t hear me

The second verse depicts a man’s relationship with a woman. His “waterfall” is casual sex – he has a “natural obsession for temptation.” This could mean he is cheating on someone or the woman he is seeing is cheating on someone. Either way, he contracts HIV and dies (“three letters took him to his final resting place”). As a matter of fact, TLC were big on AIDS awareness – Left Eye would often wear condoms attached to her clothes and in her glasses to promote safe sex.

img

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

 

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!

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

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

Peace Love Rock n Roll

I was away in the mountains, for a while. When I came back, I had an engaging conversation with my mentor. We realized the importance of making a little money as we were behind on all our bills. It was a motivational conversation. I prepared myself. But then I became sick and ended up watching House of Cards and Homeland. I still got two episodes of Homeland remaining. But that’s beside the point.

I realized, ‘One never enjoys doing things they ain’t fond of.’ So here I am, writing. No longer do I feel sick, nor do I feel the need of watching a thriller.

Tough days always fall. Life’s a ride, there’s always this thrill for a small while, followed by a mundane, lousy, disciplined spin. But tough days do make you miss childhood. Life was simpler during those good old days. Most of us fancy kids. (Few of us hate too. But I won’t talk about them as I have been requested by my editor to stop the Neo-noir bullshit and do a little, toned down, commercial writing.)  We fancy pets too. Do you know why? Let me tell you. The one and only plausible explanation behind wishing a kid/pet are to be around someone whose emotional energy is overwhelmingly powerful.

Your wife is having an affair. Your Boss just fired you, just now, a few minutes ago. Radio says the prices would go up. The weather forecast is storm and war.

You come home to your kid/pet and yell, ‘I am fucked, dude. Totally fucked!’ The kid/pet stares at you calmly and asks –

‘My question to you is, are we going to play ball in the park or not?’

And there it is. All your worries go away for a second. Then you beat the pulp out of that kid/pet. Drink whiskey! And sleep like a baby.

There you go. It’s always good to have something like this around. I guess that would be it for this afternoon. May God bless you this Ramadan. May God bless you. He no longer blesses me but I surely pray for you. And Google is reviewing my website so no talks about sex till next weekend. I apologize. We changed our theme from –

Sex  Drugs  Rock n Roll

to

Sex  Green-Tea  Rock n Roll.

 

Let’s Call this Love!

I know. I sure do know. You guys are gonna start screaming that why am I talking about Love. I am well aware some of you have left your lovers because you believed in my saying that love is an illusion. I still stand by that statement.

But I too deserve to act stupid at times. We all get to have a little fun. Yes, In a longer run mostly everything turns to shit. And so does Love. Something which initially starts as a tiny funny feeling in your lower abdomen metamorphoses into a pain inducing tumor in your head towards the end days and then becomes cancerous and kills you. Then you slowly and gradually pick the broken pieces and then start looking for someone else to make you feel whole, for a little while, again. This basically sums up everyone’s love lives.

But let’s focus on the first few days. To clearly explain why love is so addictive, I am going to present to you my LSD trip notes. Love is as addictive as any other drug and has exactly the same effects. Here is love explained for all of you.

You start seeing colors. Your lover takes over your consciousness and you feel aware after a very long time. You no longer feel the need of being lonely. You start believing – Experiences are more enjoyable when shared! You experience a surreal time shift. It feels your world is slipping beneath your feet and is being replaced by a bright yellow light. The light of freedom, with a shade of captivity . You make paintings which capture how you feel because no amount of words can explain this divine phenomenon. And no fucking blog can tell you what it feels, when you on LOVE. Remember ‘ON LOVE’ not ‘IN’. It’s a fucking drug.  The colors dance and they talk too. 

That’s how the initial days feel like. And then –

‘DEATH – That’s what happens to every FUCKING BEAUTIFUL THING. IT FUCKING DIES. WE KILL IT’.

Didn’t the Ancient Mariner kill the poor naked Albatross?

Anyways, I am in the initial days so let me have fun. Atleast till EID! And guys a fact which you might not know cause you do not use all your senses, all the time – Women’s Vagina and a freshly made Painting smell alike. That’s it for this afternoon.

Delhi – The Rape Capital

It’s 07:45 am. It’s a beautiful Sunday morning in the capital town of India, New Delhi. New Delhi is the capital of India. India is a great country. Though it is a ‘bit’ overpopulated, where ‘bit’ is being used as an understatement inducing agent.  India is also a very just nation.

Because Delhi is world’s worst places and natives of this place are really evil, Indians decided not to outcast Delhi but reward it with the title – Capital. Being a capital city is a great responsibility. You need to make sure you are overpopulated and scarce of resources. This in turn would hike prices and people would work hard and earn less. The city would get costly and to an outsider would glitter ‘RICH’.

A Rich place is a good place. Lights should always stay on. You should never sleep. Delhi never sleeps. It works 24/7. In between naps it robs, kills, scams, whores and rapes too. Delhi likes raping. India enjoys rape. India makes rape a frequent activity. Indians believe every women has a secret desire to get raped. The world also shares a similar belief.

India rapes in Delhi, Noida, Gurgaon, Surat, U.P and before you tell me to stop stating that you know this and you choose to ignore because things like these are depressing. I would like to state the real fact. Yes every women has a desire to get raped. And that is not at all a secret. And as shocking as it would hit you, every man also has a desire to get raped. The entire human consciousness has a desire to get raped, wherein rape stands for losing control over self and let the universe run it’s own course. Rape means not to try and control anything because it’s a futile attempt. Rape doesn’t always mean a sexual crime, you depraved society! That would be it for today. Have a nice day.

It’s A Long Way To The Top If You Wanna’ Rock & Roll!

 

It’s a long way to the top if you wanna Rock&Roll!

 

What the fuck is wrong with you people? I am asking this assuming, some of you might know.

Don’t you have something better to do?

 

How about television? Common, don’t be shy. It is your favorite pastime.

Not today.

Did no one make plans with you? Go to some movie or a little shopping, a little clubbing maybe. No?

That bad. Hmmm.

You can play some games, they are pretty involving. You can listen to those stupid tracks saved in your phone, you call it music. Check your FB, maybe post a selfie on INSTA. These things matter.

Isn’t that right?

You can always color your hair. Try that new shampoo you bought after seeing that commercial. Groom yourself a little. Get those yellow stained teeth cleaned. You not going to look any younger or any better. But try.

You can always sleep. I am an insomniac since the age of 14: The day I first saw a pair of titties. A 40-year-old milf neighbor showed me the doors to heaven. You call it child sex abuse. At my time, it was called fun.  Haven’t had any sleep since that day. But you love sleeping. Don’t you?

If you are hell bent on reading this, I must warn you. Nothing would change. You would read this, appreciate, get enlightened. And then the very next evening, you would go and buy something more entertaining. Who reads books? You do not get laid by reading books. Be honest.

They call me Goat-boy. I am a musician. No, no!

They call me Goat-boy. I am an artist. Oh, shit, no!

My name is Goat-boy. I am a recovering sex addict. Fuck this shit!

Okay, so my name is Goat-boy. I am diagnosed with chronic Insomnia. I am also a recovering sex addict. I play guitar. Shit man!

My name is Jack. I am an artist. Maybe. Maybe not.

But I like calling myself one. I create music, at least try to. I am not too good at what I do but seeing the current logistics, who is? Is Trump a good president?

You only need to be good to do great things: To make money, mediocrity does the trick. Look at you, you make money and good is a very distant expression for you. You are shitty and clumsy but still, you make good money. Don’t you?

I never wanted to be a musician but an interesting mix of life events landed me the trade.

 I won’t admit that it was easy but yes it wasn’t so tough either. My doctor asked me to channelize my sexual energy into something more meaningful than watching porn and wanking. He suggested me to try writing, painting, dancing… I thought a lot. None of these people get laid, a lot.

Writers, they are fucking sex starved delusional.

Painters, they are fucking sex starved crazies.

Dancers, they got no energy left to fuck.

Rock stars, You know the glamour. You would get laid, why won’t you? You are a Rock- star!

So I thought to try my hands on creating some original rock music. Apart from playing music, I also enjoy burning shit.

“Burn It To The Ground”

I was listening to the Radio. Nickelback was playing. Music always pleases me. It makes the voices in my head go away. You should also listen to music. But just wanted to advise you that, “Char bottle Vodka, Kaam uska roz ka” (Four bottles of Rum, Bitch drinks every day…. Please show me how she pukes and shits d pain away.) is not music. These lyrics are not thoughtful. If you listen to this kind of music, I am sure your God would save you. The same God whose idols you purchase for $50 at your nearest place of religious communion – A shopping mall!

I focused on the lyrics.

Well it’s midnight, damn right, we’re wound up too tight
I’ve got a fist full of whiskey, the bottle just bit me
Oh
That shit makes me bat shit crazy
We’ve got no fear, no doubt, all in balls out

We’re going off tonight
To kick out every light
Take anything we want
Drink everything in sight
We’re going till the world stops turning
While we burn it to the ground tonight

Suddenly doctor “UD” came. So, our doctor, an unattractive male in his 40’s, never got married. He got laid the first time when he was 28 years old and got his first job. That too because the nurse had a bad breakup and wanted a rebound. A decent doctor worked for her.

Now, he always had an issue with nervous ticks.

For the STUPID: Nervous ticks, are involuntary muscle movements caused by stress and anxiety.

Doc: Goat-boy, You know why you here?

Me: Yes sir.

Doc: Then you also know that if you do not stop lighting fire to financial institutions, they would send you to a prison. They are only acting patient with you because of your fan following.

Me: No problem. I would light the prison on fire. Lighting fire is my passion. I like it.

Doc: No. It’s a medical condition. You are a delusional and an Arsonist. You need medical attention.

Me: Okay Sir. As you say. But did you ever think why I only burn Financial institutions?

UD: Tell me!

Me: Financial institutions make money. Money is historically an emergent market phenomenon establishing a commodity money, but nearly all contemporary money systems are based on fiat money.[4] Fiat money, like any check or note of debt, is without use value as a physical commodity. It derives its value by being declared by a government to be legal tender; that is, it must be accepted as a form of payment within the boundaries of the country, for “all debts, public and private”. (For the stupid – Money is just a piece of paper and it has no value because it has no great saying or quote written over it. It’s abso-fuckin-lutely of no value.)

UD: Got it. Now make sure you buy your prescription from the shop outside. And also book the next week’s visit by paying $250 advance. Get well soon, Goatboy. We love you! 😊

Let’s get naked and run through the Jungle!

Let’s get naked and run through the Jungle!

 

A thought just came to my mind. A minute ago. Let’s get naked and run through the Jungle. I know what you are thinking, “Aa gaya pagla phir se.” (Here comes the crazy again.) But then in my defense, I have all the facts with me. Please hear me out for two minutes. I won’t rob you off your wealth. Corporations and religions are for that purpose. I just need two minutes, please. And also, “Insanity is just a state of mind like sanity. Who knows who’s what? I certainly don’t (#mostdef)”

My question to you is, “Why not?” We are clothed and civilized because we are supposedly social beings. But are we? I don’t see many social things being done around. I just see few people making money and others buying the goods made and sold by them. Then I also see Television, (fuck Television – the kind you watch. I watch RT.com), which has a propaganda content airing 24/7*365. Everywhere they teach you how to buy things and how to make money to buy em. No one teaches you to achieve freedom and not to willingly submit to slavery. A wise man said –

Don’t let the ones that want to steal your dreams 
They’ll steal your dreams away 
Just laugh and let it go 

So you’ve tried to pass along your doubt 
Oh you need somebody’s ears to hear you shout 
All your wasted and days and twisted ways are up 
So now it’s time to see the cards you dealt 

Don’t let the ones that want to steal your dreams 
They’ll steal your dreams away 
Just laugh and let it go 

A wise one said. Not me. I am the crazy one. So, the point being made is, “What’s the point of a consumerist society?” Why fight for it’s thriving? Let it perish and rot away in oblivion. Let’s just orchestrate a Phoenix event. (In the historical record, the Phoenix could symbolize renewal in general as well as the sun, time, the Empiremetempsychosisconsecrationresurrection, life in the heavenly ParadiseChristMaryvirginity, the exceptional man, and certain aspects of Christian life”.[3]). We no longer need to buy things. All of us who want things to change and pave way for a better tomorrow, Let’s just sell our possessions. Buy a ton of books. Buy a backpack. Burn our identifications. Become no one. Because “It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.”

“Let’s be a part of the great Rainbow Family. Let’s get naked and run through the Jungle!”

Follow me at – https://www.facebook.com/nishantnishit

Subscribe to my blog for propaganda content towards a movement against consumerism and PEACE.

‘Advisors’ – A Pseudo Rap

I hate myself

I always have..I always will

But I hate you more

‘ Cause YOU just wanna’ make me your money churning whore.

 

‘Do this not that, censor your words’ ,  you say

And all I gotta’ say is ‘Nay nay nay’

 

I am a survivor, I won battles

I stood up with broken ribs,

I sew my own stitch

I take what I want… I ain’t the one who calls ‘DIBS’

But to you, that is my ego talking

‘Cause in reality,

I am just a billboard ,walking  & talking

Ain’t that true ?

Ain’t that true ?

I wanna’ get mum

Get me some of Capt. Jack Sparrow’s RUM

I had a compass..I dint need anyone

I was lost but I was not in pieces..

I was one..

Crush me more..Why have pity?

I need it for my art, said he.

You Killed Cobain

A long time ago, Freud made the world understand that every child is the same. A blank  Copy. And then the society starts the imprinting procedure. Every moment, incident,event, occurrence…it all leaves an everlasting impression on the kid’s consciousness.

No one’s a born rapist, murderer, robber. Everyone is a bi-product of this damned society. You are only capable of doing things that you have experienced or witnessed.

Many see Cobain as a genius and some as an addict. Well, he was neither. He wasn’t a brilliant artist nor was he a rock fuck-up. He was you, me…maybe your best friend, your neighbor. He wasn’t special or extraordinary. He was the same nobody we all are, made out of organic compost. Like you, he was an all singing, all dancing crap of this world. But thanks to you and the pain you injected in his veins.. He became a Demi – Fucking-GOD. It’s been a long time since he abandoned this place. But he’s immortal.

Doesn’t he still inspire us? Don’t we talk about him and worship him. All of that is cool!

The question is, when would you guys stop. I mean someday you would. He thought so too. But you din’t. You were not just entertained with him wriggling away his life.. You weren’t happy seeing his soul melt away in darkness. You wanted to see the end….Yeah…And you had no fucking patience! You could’t wait for him to die. You had to hand him a shotgun and very cleverly made him pull the trigger… And termed it a suicide…You savages…

All he wanted to do was to be left alone. Don’t we all? We all want to be who we are and not what someone else wants us to be.What gave you the idea that you are right, in chasing money and commodities that never last, are never enough and term Cobain wrong for chasing ART which is invaluable. You just don’t get it.

You can’t put a value to ART cause you’re just not there yet.If I give a blacksmith a RUBY, what the fuck would he do?… Give me a sword in return…Won’t he? He has no fucking idea what a Ruby’s worth is.But if I get it to a queen, She’s gonna’ fuck my brains out. Won’t she? OK only if she’s horny. Let’s all be reasonable.

For Mr. Stupid : – What I am trying to say is, the world  doesn’t understand ART. It’s like teaching a toddler, unable to walk,  the very Law of  Physics.. and why stop there. Try Astronomy too. Artists are people who have been rejected by society. We are never understood ’cause we do not fit in the defined matrix of society. We understand ‘the scam’ and once that happens, there’s no going back. Why would you get conned, intentionally? I have a broken phone.. I, for instance,have been suggested by posers to get an I-phone. But why an I-Phone? Because, they tell you, ‘If you don’t have an I-Phone, you don’t have an I-Phone’! What???Are we really that naive, that dumb that it’s so easy to create a need among us for something we don’t really need all that much, by simply telling us we need it because we don’t have it? Gimme’ a break!

 

 

Coming back to Cobain.. Why the fuck din’t you leave him be. He just wanted to perform. He just wanted to create ART. You had to love him so much.. that you wanted  a piece of him every day.. You slowly chopped him and cooked him and ate him…You retarded cannibals…

 You wanted him to be the way, you think was right..Hello.. Are you crazy? Why am

I even asking? I know you are.. I am sure you are…

%d bloggers like this: