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.

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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

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

We Grew Up

Somewhere between
“ 7 pani puris for 1 rupee” and
“1 pani puri for 7 rupees”,
we grew up!!
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Somewhere between
“Ground mai aaja” and
“Online aaja”,
we grew up!!
Somewhere between
“stealing eclairs of your sis” and “Bringing Silk for her”,
we grew up!!
Somewhere between
“Just five more mins Mom” and “Pressing the snooze button”,
we grew up!!
Somewhere between
“Crying out loud just to get what we want” and
“Holding our tears when we are broken inside”,
we grew up!!
Somewhere between
“I want to grow up” and
“I want to be a child again”,
we grew up!!
Somewhere between
“Lets meet and plan” and
“Lets plan and meet”,
we grew up!
And as we grew up, we realized how, silently but surely ,
our lives have changed…

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!

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) .

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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. 

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(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 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

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“The Crystal Ship”

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

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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

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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

Smokes & Strings – Boulevard of Broken Art

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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.

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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”

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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.

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“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.
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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.
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Things we do, in the name of Love, so low…so low!

 

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

 

 

 

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.

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“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.”
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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?
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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.

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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.

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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.”
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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

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!

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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.

Financial Meltdown Nov 2017, An American Express dream!

Financial Meltdown Nov 2017, An American Express dream!

Tonight, Broken Radio presents to you, a teaser of upcoming Financial Meltdown, releasing this Nov 2017. The theater stars you, of course. This entire planet is possible because of you and a guy named Greed. It also stars President Trump, PM Modi, and Amercian Express. It’s written by a team of brilliant writers led by Ken Chenault.

Before we begin, I wanted to offer you a little background. Billions of years ago, there were two people. Adam and Eve. I hope no one would ask me to prove this stated fact. I hope so.

There was no money. Few more centuries later, there were many people. There was no money. There still was a fair exchange of goods and services termed as barter. But there was no money. There was also a good king.

The good kings didn’t stay good. This is referred as a natural phenomenon called ‘Decay’. They decayed morally. Shit happens!

People were robbed of their minerals, gold, and silver. Gold Seize, they call it. And were made poor. Next few centuries later, there were kings, few rich people and then you. You are essential to this story. This entire planet is possible because of you and a guy named Greed.

Now you have no gold left. But you still have mouths to feed. What would you do next?

Barter!

 You go to a rich fella and ask him some money. But you need to offer something in exchange. If you offer your home, you would have no place to live. You already quit your ways of being a nomad because the king asked you to do so. You are confused about your next steps.

But that’s because, you are a decent fella. You do not understand earthly shit.

The rich guy is awake. He has all the answers. The rich guy would then suggest, you pay him a very small sum of money each month in exchange of believing you. But if you miss that payment, then he would take your house.

“Listen to him, dude. He’s your only friend. He is giving you money, without any fuss. You would have your home, wife, kids and you can always work a little. And keep on paying him a small Riba”, says the town whore.

Riba can be roughly translated as “usury”, or unjust, exploitative gains made in trade or business under Islamic law. Riba (Interest) is mentioned and condemned in several different verses in the Quran.

So even religion dislikes it.

Now, in present times, let’s take a look. You have a leader chosen for the people by the people, The King. Your friendly Banker. Media Whores. And You.

This entire planet is possible because of you and a guy named Greed.

So having shared you an interesting background, let me begin the trailer of  Financial Meltdown Nov 2017, An American Express dream!

The American Express Company, also known as Amex, is an American multinational financial services corporation headquartered in Three World Financial Center in New York City. The company was founded in 1850 and is one of the 30 components of the Dow Jones Industrial Average. The company is best known for its credit card, charge card, and traveler’s cheque businesses. In 2016, credit cards using the American Express network accounted for 22.9% of the total dollar volume of credit card transactions in the US. As of December 31, 2016, the company had 109.9 million cards in force, including 47.5 million cards in force in the United States, each with an average annual spending of $17,216.

American Express is full of go-getters who are highly imaginative. That’s one of the reasons behind their success. American Express realized in Q1 2015 that in an event of another recession, the largest lender would be rewarded a Federal Bailout package. So they decided to be one.

Since 2015 they are flouting various financial laws and up-selling credit through their unorganized and poorly regulated offshore contact centers.

 But that’s not it. They are up-selling credit to people who are sure to falter on repayments. They are giving money to people knowing their imminent non-payment. Clearly, flouting the rules of an already rigged game.

Now would be a good time to ask me for some proof. Well, I worked for this amazing institution for 5 long years. I am well familiar with the way this institution operates. And I was a part of this theater too.

Let’s me also tell you what’s gonna happen next. Come November those non-payments would cross an imaginary level and would start shaking the global economy. The waves would continue rocking the world till the next 2 years.

Banks would fire few mid-level employees. Amex India and Manila has already started the cleanup process.

 A year from now, ATM’s would start drying and the banks would declare themselves bankrupt. American Express won’t. Because the moment they would file for bankruptcy, the entire global economy would collapse. Remember, they would have achieved the biggest lender status by then.

So someone would offer them a bailout package and Ken Chenault would sip a cup of coffee with PM Modi and President Trump in a lounge, laughing at you. You are essential.

This entire planet is possible because of you and a guy named Greed.

Now don’t panic. Yes, I told you, you are soon to face a crisis, but I got a fix. Money is limited. If you withdraw all your remaining money tonite, after paying every bill you owe, you would be partially free from this magical chair of a show called the economy. When the music would stop, you do not have to worry. Yes, you would again lose your job but you won’t have many bills to pay.

 You would survive.

Now your question:

What would I do with all my money which I make till this happens?

Keep it in your home. Do not buy stuff on installments. There is no smartness in that.

What if someone steals it?

You have a government body called ‘The Law’, to protect you.

Oh, You do not trust them. You think they are crooks.

Wow!

You think Bankers are your friend and Cops are your enemy. In that case, Who am I?

A madman leading the blind!

 

Deep Hindu State – India

DEEP STATE

 

After the great and commercially overwhelming success of ‘Are you a chimp?’ and ‘Peace Love Rock n Roll’, what did you think I was going to talk about? My beautiful trip to the Himalayas! Of course, not. You knew this was coming. You knew it. Half of the nation has already termed me a bat-shit crazy conspiracy theorist, I need to live up to the expectations.

I always wished to be an infamous writer.

Let me tell you a fact about my childhood superhero Charles Bukowski. The FBI kept a file on him as a result of his column, Notes of a Dirty Old Man, in the LA underground newspaper Open City. That’s the level of infamy I wish to achieve.

Scandalous NiK! 

(I like the sound of it.)

Enough about my hopes and dreams just wanted to let you know, plainly and simply that this article is an attempt to win a place in the tracking servers of the intelligence agencies.

Okay then, where should we begin? Let me start with expressing my anguish over the fact that I wanted to write about PM Modi but I was advised to tread carefully by my closest advisers mostly located in Russia and Iran. Few of them are also based in L.A, California. (I like them more)

So do you understand what this really means?

I don’t like to bad-mouth great men. Modi is one. So is Trump.

Do I have the guts to say ill about Alexander the great?

Fuck not! He fucked up, in the end, that’s true. But who are we petty humans to judge someone so valiant and powerful. I can just think about a popular Indian saying – Aukaat me raho (Stay within your limits). But these are not the times of Alexander the great. Modern popular culture has introduced a great pseudo mechanism of mind control. They allow you to say crazy shit online. And then use the metadata to keep an eye on you. And also for propaganda purposes. Yeah, that’s jibber jabber. Let me further simplify. (And read my book Broken Radio, it’s on Amazon. It does explain all of this using a captivating story-line.)

You are Miss Z. Miss Z hates Trump. Miss Z leaves comments, shares, likes propaganda content against Sir Trump.

But Miss Z doesn’t hate Trump’s Wife.

Now Imagine this, a highly intelligent person, like me, gets access to this lump of raw information.

What can he do?

He can use a cyber boiler room and flood Miss Z’s virtual world with Melanie’s good work and a tiny message to vote for Trump. Now comes the voting day. Miss Z is staring at two faces on an empty wall. Both are full of hollow, empty promises. Miss Z knows, at some level, they both are full of shit. Suddenly her subconscious pops Melanie’s face in front of her and her fingers twitch. She doesn’t even know what happened but there it was,

 A Vote for Donald Trump.

 She comes out, forgets about the whole shit and starts chatting with her girlfriend.

That was my best. No one on the planet can explain you this crazy shit in a simpler manner.

Now let me tell you how you feel. Most of you understand and agree. But you think, none of this affects your pretty lives in any manner.

That is where most of you are wrong. It does. Let me quickly tell you how. Even I am short of time. I need to prepare breakfast for my girlfriend. She would be waking up soon.

The concept of a deep state suggests that there exists a coordinated effort by career government employees and others to influence state policy without regard for democratically elected leadership.

Sounds familiar.

10 Janpath behind PM Manmohan

RSS behind PM Modi

Amazon behind President Trump

You all know what I am talking about. But things just got worse. This is deeper that Deep State. As I explained initially, I was advised not to talk about PM Modi. I also explained how Deep State uses Social Media to manipulate you. None of this is my concern. My issue is PM Modi.

He’s a great man. I do not question anything he does. But I know he wants to see a temple in his name somewhere down the line, maybe 300 years from now.

I wanna make fun of him, a little. I wanna spread some smiles.  Every other country allows it. You made fun of the last one, PM Manmohan. It was disgraceful. I didn’t even smile. But you were allowed. Nobody roughed you up. So, my question to you is, Why the fuck can’t I make fun of PM Modi? A little laugh. How is that demeaning? And if it is,

What about last time?

 Did you guys fuck up?

I am not liking this totalitarian approach of the government to so strongly monitor people and manipulate social media with pro-government propaganda content. I am hating the way the government is using the intelligence agencies to use your cyber metadata to manipulate you. I am not liking this pseudo-censorship wherein Google would not run Adsense on your blog and FB would deny your ads if you write Pro-Islam content.

I hate PM Modi clicking selfies while he sells the nation for a bag of gold and a dream of becoming a God, someday. You are PM for god’s sake. What else you wanna become? PM of America? They don’t have those, over there.

The most powerful man on the planet! Donald Trump! Here’s what he recently said:

“I would be the greatest jobs president that God ever created”

Here is something I like from your PM Modi :

“I will make such a wonderful India that all Americans will stand in line to get a Visa for India”

I would drink tonight. Cheers, to a truly wonderful India.

And also, I know about boiler rooms because a close friend of mine, based in Russia runs a 1200 seater cyber boiler room. I joined FB on 6th Jan 2017. I am a bestseller author and an internet celebrity today. How do you think it all happened in 5 months? I orchestrated it through social media management with the help of my foreign friends.

Don’t judge me. Judge Trump! Judge PM Modi! Get ready to judge India’s next election!

 I am a small fish. I just wanna get infamous. Be a little bad boy. Marry a stunning, gorgeous, yet intelligent writer. (I recently found one.) Settle in the beautiful, heavenly, valleys of Kashmir. Have no kids.

And a request to government agencies –

In case you wanna set up a surveillance on me, I just wanted to make it clear to you, I intend to visit Dubai for some personal affairs this Eid. And Kashmir when I return. So, Please do not cancel my passport or put me in jail. December would be a good time for that.”

That’s it for now. Enjoy your weekend!

 

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.

And Then It Is Winter…

You know. . . time has a way of moving quickly and catching you unaware of the passing years.
It seems just yesterday that I was young, and embarking on my new life. Yet in a way, it seems like eons ago, and I wonder where all the years went. I know that I lived them all. I have glimpses of how it was back then and of all my hopes and dreams. But, here it is… the winter of my life and it catches me by surprise… How did I get here so fast? Where did the years go and where did my youth go?
I remember well, seeing older people through the years and thinking that those older people were years away from me and that winter was so far off that I could not fathom it or imagine fully what it would be like. But, here it is…my friends are retired and getting grey… they move slower and I see an older person now. Some are in better and some in worse shape than me…but, I see the great change… Not like the ones that I remember who were young and vibrant..but, like me, their age is beginning to show and we are now those older folks that we used to see and never thought we’d be.
Each day now, I find that just getting a shower is a real target for the day! And taking a nap is not a treat anymore… it’s mandatory!
‘Cause if I don’t on my own free will… I just fall asleep where I sit!
And so…now I enter into this new season of my life unprepared for all the aches and pains and the loss of strength and ability to go and do things that I wish I had done but never did!
But, at least I know, that though the winter has come, and I’m not sure how long it will last… this I know, that when it’s over on this earth…it’s NOT over. A new adventure will begin!
Yes, I have regrets. There are things I wish I hadn’t done…things Ishould have done, but indeed, there are many things I’m happy to have
done. It’s all in a lifetime.
So, if you’re not in your winter yet…let me remind you, that it will be here faster than you think. So, whatever you would like to accomplish in your life please do it timely! Don’t put things off too long!
Life goes by quickly. So, do what you can today, as you can never be sure whether this is your winter or not! You have no promise that you will see all the seasons of your life…so, live for today and say all the things that you want your loved ones to remember…and hope that
they appreciate and love you for all the things that you have done for them in all the years past!
“Life” is a gift to you. The way you live your life is your gift to those who come after.
LIVE IT WELL! ENJOY TODAY! DO SOMETHING FUN! BE HAPPY!
REMEMBER:….
“It is health that is real wealth and not pieces of gold and silver”
LASTLY, CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING:
TODAY IS THE OLDEST YOU’VE EVER BEEN, YET THE YOUNGEST YOU’LL EVER BE, SO – ENJOY THIS DAY WHILE IT LASTS.
~Your kids are becoming you……
~Going out is good. Coming home is better!
~You forget names… But it’s OK because other people forgot they even knew you!!!
~You realize you’re never going to be really good at anything…. especially golf.
~The things you used to care to do, you no longer care to do, but you really do care that you don’t care to do them anymore.
~You sleep better on a lounge chair with the TV blaring than in bed.
It’s called “pre-sleep”.
~You miss the days when everything worked with just an “ON” and “OFF” switch..
~You tend to use more 4 letter words … “what?”…”when?”… “what?”  “where?”
~Now that you can afford expensive jewelry – it’s not safe to wear it anywhere.
~You notice everything they sell in stores is “sleeveless!?”
~What used to be freckles are now liver spots.
~Everybody whispers.
~You have 3 sizes of clothes in your closet…. 2 of which you will never wear.
~But Old is good in some things: Old Songs, Old movies, and best of all,
OLD FRIENDS!!

My Shining Ray Of Hope

I wish to wake up now

It’s been really long

I must break free of this chain of thoughts

an ambiguous dream gone wrong

I can swim no longer in this deluge

Can no one hear my silent cries?

There’s no land in sight where I may seek refuge

I’m drowning, no matter how hard I try

My cries for help fall on deaf ears

I wonder why my own have forsaken me

The splashing waters wash away my tears

I search within for the faith in me

What stays afloat is my spirit strong

& the distant light I see

It’s a tiny ray of hope and frankly

my only reason to be

What if the light is just an illusion?

An oasis in the desert for the lost being

If only I could touch it once

I’d know that it’s something real I’m seeing

The need to join the light is strong

I seek the faith in me

I cannot hold this up for long

I must break free

I pull all of my being together

To make this final dive

I just need the light to keep shining bright

& I know I will survive

 

My Lonely Spirit

There was a bad stench in the wind,

my nostrils flared

the fellow passenger

seemed to care                                 

“what’s wrong?” asked he

“that smell, can’t you see?”

“what smell, i have never felt a more pleasant breeze

my nose twitched, I got pissed

“stop fucking around, I can’t breathe”

calmly he said, “I aren’t kidding buddy, maybe it’s within”

“within what?”

he looked into my eyes

and stared into my soul

he picked his belongings & ran away

he ran away,

while I stood there

I shouted, “buddy! please wait”

I heard his distant voice, “apologies mate, but I need to flee”

but why, I couldn’t figure out

At times, during lonely nights

a thought prances in my head

was that stench real or was it inside me?

I don’t have an answer,                                               

things have been hazy since I’ve been dead…

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!”

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Are you a chimp?

Are you a chimp?

 

Darwin told you, a long time ago that you were a chimp! You agreed, Didn’t you? But he made a small error. Yes, I said it. Loud and clear that Darwin made a mistake. Great men make mistakes too. That’s why Rome fell.

Darwin said you were a chimp. No motherfucker! You still are. Yes, you evolved physically but then that’s about it. You did not read books. You thought it’s too much of work. Let’s just look good and dress well, design an economy which resembles musical chair. Someone would always lose. It’s a musical chair. Those are the rules. And then you decided to fuck nature up and you enjoying, having fun. Just like chimps do. Break twigs, shit, puke, fuck, steal, at times hunt too. That’s your whole fucking story.

So, you still are a chimp! You were a chimp and you are a chimp.

I know some of you are laughing right now thinking I am joking but no I am not. I am damn serious. I am as serious as you were when you decided to nuke Hiroshima to make a point. A very small point. That you were a better chimp. Not so long ago you also decided to eliminate a breed of fellow individuals. One of the alpha male of your esteemed chimp community, ‘Sir great chimp – Hitler’, decided to kill Jews. You just stood there in shock and awe and I don’t know what as I wasn’t born then.

In my time another chimp, ‘Sir Donald fucking Trump chimp’ is doing the same. He wishes to kill every Muslim brother. That’s how chimps do it.

Now some of you are thinking what is my propaganda behind writing this. Am I a Muslim? Am I a naturalist? Do I have a PhD? How am I so confidently stating the but obvious truth. Well, for your chimp brain let’s just assume that I am Charlie Marvin, seventh great-grandson of Charles Darwin. And I also talk to the universe, because I am a human being, not a chimp! Unlike you.

So, please pay a very close attention to what I am saying. You are a fucking chimp! Okay! And you accidentally got the gift of language. You are not supposed to know the language. Because you use it to spread hate. You do not use it to spread love or peace. You should only communicate in sign language. Because you are a chimp and chimps are not supposed to talk.

And then came the shittiest moment in human history. You chimps got access to Inter fuck it Net. Holy Fuck! What’s gonna happen now? Every fucking chimp got smart devices. LMAO! LOL! Killing fucking language. (Smiley Emoji).  Because you don’t understand language. You are not supposed to talk.

And all of you who are thinking right now that you are a human being. Well, you are wrong too. You are also a chimp! Because you don’t understand, ‘Where there is will, there is a way’.  You don’t understand,”Honesty is the best policy“. You don’t understand,”Time and tide wait for none“. You don’t understand,”Find something you love and let it kill you”. You don’t understand,”Go all the way or don’t even start”. You don’t understand,”You are a piece of shit”. I don’t know why am I wasting my time talking to you. You won’t understand.”You are a chimp!“.

Please don’t buy a book. Go buy an I-Phone.

Charles Marvin seventh great-grandson of Charles Darwin.

Artist ¦Naturalist

The Lame Game Life!

I’ve been crushing some serious candies

I’m busy on virtual streets,

I grow veggies in my fake farm

I’m even friends with gaming freaks!

I have alienated my friends

by sending them game requests,

I’ve no clue why they won’t oblige me

& just help me in my quests.

You see, it’s a matter quite serious

my avatar is in constant need

My fish would die if not fed in time

my crops would turn to weed.

My journey would suddenly come to a halt

if you don’t send three tickets

And if I don’t buy golden coins

the enemy would kill my picket

Who would rescue my pets from danger?

If you don’t send me bonus lives

How would I run my restaurant?

If you don’t help me buy the forks & knives

What would I do with the city I built

If you don’t stop by once in a while

How am I to deal with the birds I anger

If you don’t help me fling them a mile

Instead of judging us poor gaming souls

come join this crazy ride

just quit the army of online trolls

& pick the whimsical side

We’ve got cops & thieves , detectives & chiefs

entrepreneurs, gem carvers & tour guides

All we lack is a life that’s real

But that’s alright,

we’re not missing much

Our lame game life would suffice.

A Happy Mothers Day To The ‘Other’ Kind Of Mother

Happy Mother’s Day Mom,

From your ugly looking, least favourite son…

 

I always wondered why they need a day for mothers,

Mothers are divine, all of humanity does succumb.

But I guess today I figured this shit,

What kind of mothers deserve this gig…

 

It’s for YOU Mom, It’s for YOU..

When I stole a penny at 8, I just wanted an ice-cream stick,

I think you could have just made me understand,

You didn’t have to practise JIHAD and burn me…

 

When I was raped at 10, You blamed it on me

It was my fault, I could have ran away… I understand…

But MOM you knew I had a broken knee…

 

You made me feel shitty ‘cause I was not a pretty child,

Your brothers didn’t shower me with love and were unkind.

I remember your older brother threw me on the floor..

Just ‘cause I had farted.. But I was 12..

Kids fart… I wasn’t 24.

 

When I started earning, It was never enough

Everyone wanted a house, a car and a lifestyle

What about me?

You didn’t even let me buy a book about Van Fucking Gough..

You hated my girlfriends… I didn’t complain,

You hurled abuses, you hurt them

But couldn’t you see , I was in PAIN

 

I filled your account with whatever little I could make,

And now That I needed a little help

I was shocked to see your take

I just took a plastic card

You got ill ‘cause you thought

Your son ran away with your life’s worth !

 

Now I can’t love any other woman,

‘Cause I loved you deeply…

Every woman I’ve been with,

Looked like you

Isn’t that something, even Freud dint see..

 

Anyway, I guess this is the end

I wish you luck and Oh yes!

Happy Mother’s day…

 

Happy Mother’s day Mom…

From your ugly looking, least favourite son.

 

Moment Of Truth

I cannot recall each story I read,

each story I heard, during childhood

but I do recall that each implied

in the end,  bad succumbs to good.

 

I never questioned the truth of it,

until most recent years

as tales & fables gave way to the real

& disenchantment led to tears.

 

For if this was true,

then it made no sense

for my honest display

to fetch pretense

 

I cannot, for instance, for a second believe,

that my hope deserved a stab more than once

the first time I thought it was fate at play

on what do I blame the second chance?

 

Is it that I’m blind to my own faults?

I think it not to be the case,

for each night before I sleep,

I turn my own worst critic, for goodness sake!

 

I make amends, I fail again

I win myself over each day,

I realize I may have hurt a few,

but that’s a debt I most repay.

 

 

None of the fairy tales I heard,

had parts full of such despair

wherever I look, whatever I find

misery, heartache, resentment, are there.

 

It’s only now, that I realize

that what they taught was a thought mislead

it is never good that wins over bad,

let me replace that word, in every book I read.

 

For people are never good or bad,

they are either honest or they’re not,

for what prevails is not good, but the truth

that’s what life always taught.

 

The truth uncovers itself,

in manners most perverse

it hits you when you’re least prepared,

to make matters worse.

 

So I end the game of charades today,

as I gain a new meaning to life,

goodness is an illusion, it is truth that shall prevail

With that, I end my longest strife.

 

 

 

 

 

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