My White World. August 24, 2008

I would live in a white house. The rooms would be painted white inside and white walls would surround me. The windows would be sealed to maintain the interiors clean and white. I would want some walls to be glossy and some walls to be matte. The floor would be white, maybe polished plain white marble with no stains on it. Clean, pure, white. They would all have to be the same white, not off-white or cream, pure white. Everything in the house would be white too. I’d have white carpets below my white couches and tables. The furniture will be elegant and simple, no fancy curves or fancy borders. Simply white. I would want everything to be perfect, the corners of my furniture, the corners where of the walls meet, they should all be perfect. No cracks, no signs of wear, no aging, no hand prints, no odd marks, no dust and no dirt. My backyard would have white shiny plastic trees, and I would have thick white carpets in place of grass. There would be a thoughtfully placed pond with crystal clear water. It would have white leafed white lotuses, and white water lilies floating in it. In my living room I’d place white frames with glossy typographic art printed on matte white paper. My library would have all books with white hard-cover, and stacked neatly, alphabetically organized on my white book-shelf. My bathroom would have soaps, and bathing liquids, and other items in white containers of the same shape and size. The kitchen will have white drawers with clean white utensils. My dinner plates, silverware and napkins will be pure white no fancy prints or silly colors. My bedroom will have a white bed, white work-table, and white posters. There will be a beautiful white guitar, and I will be sitting right beside it wearing my white suit, admiring the beauty.

pig. August 17, 2008

im sitting here on my soiled matress, uncovered and muddy lying on the floor. ate tuna, and drank lots of water. nothing else to do, but think about mundane facts of my existence and how i always will remain wishing for more. the windows are all broken, and the cheap blinds rattle in the wind. the ducts carrying cool air are rustling, and their screws have come off. the room smells of boxes and old paper, and i can see a patch of brown in all of my vicinity. the fridge has stale vegetables and rotting chicken. small drops of frozen blood from the uncooked steak paint its interior. the carpets need cleaning. it has a stain for every story that was made here. but i’m fine. i like these smells and the pungent odors, and i have a feeling i’m going to miss all the shit i’ve loved eating all this while. see you second home. can’t wait to get started with my third. grunt. oink.

Universal Soul June 30, 2008

This existence is like a glass of liquid with millions of undissolvable particles floating around in it. This state of the solution is the instant of existence that we classify as ‘living’ or ‘life’, agitated, lacking direction, something that seems to be completely driven by randomness. Eventually, the particles settle, and collect at the bottom of the glass, and join to form a single mass of matter there. This is the after-life, all of our souls unite to form this single universal soul, it knows all, it knows what you ate for breakfast today, what I ate for lunch, who you’ve loved, whom i’ve hated, your bad and good, my bad and good, it knows all. You, I and all of the ‘living’ creatures become this soul when each of our earthly existence comes to an end. After we become the soul, we realize everything, as we will know everything that has ever happened. If A stole something from B, the universal soul will have the memory of both A and B, it will remember what it feels to have something stolen from, it would know what it feels like to live with the guilt of stealing. It will exist in pain because of all this knowledge, but everything balances out, and so it remains motionless, stiking down at the bottom of the glass.

ribbons around plastic blocks June 29, 2008

you are a child,

you know nothing,

your subconscious mind takes you to worlds

not of this earth

not of this organization

but you are growing

and you cant stop it

although you currently don’t want to

you want the cells to multiply

your brothers have taunted you

and your sisters have pinched you

because they are bigger and dumber

you are vaguely confused

you are fuzzy

you are growing and you’re beginning to like it more and more

you are now connected to this earth

and have lost all your connections with the other, better known worlds to you

but you don’t care anymore

because you are amazing at forgetting things

but you have not forgotten one thing – the tower

you have been building this one tower with thousands of blocks of plastic

building it by placing one block over another

one block every day

hundreds of blocks a year

you have lost count now

but you are doing it as they told you

placing blocks and tying ribbons around them

the tower is so tall

you can no longer reach the top

now is the time to destroy the tower and build a toy for yourself with the pointy pieces of plastic.

but you have been converted by plants and leaves and chlorophyll

you have no other urge but to continue building this tower

its cracking

you can see it

the blocks at its base which you placed when you were enjoying colors

is now cracking

hear it

its rattling and gravity always hated you

but you are still tying ribbons – colored white and brown

you are also using plastic tapes now

but strangely, you still don’t know why you are building this

its not the greatest thing ever

everyone has their own,

why do you think anyone’s going to look at yours?

Spend $100 and make yourself look rich! March 9, 2008

1. give it to me – by paypal if you are net savvy.
2. punch holes in your t-shirt armpits and patch it with the bill
3. 2 holds good for socks too, if you plan to walk shoe-less
4. make pin-hole eye-glasses with the bill
5. ask a retard to smear paint on it, then u have a 100$ worth painting for the restroom door
6. chop the bill and toss it on the salad when friends come over for dinner
7. shove it in half way through in your garden to make a money plant
8. cut it in thin strips and curl them to make money eye lashes for your girlfriend
9. drop it in an un-flushed public toilet and see who falls for the bait (this should  be fun)
10. stick it in your ears and say “hey! i have money coming outta my ears!!!”

A Colorful Melody November 22, 2007

The door’s closed, and the lights are dim, just like how I asked for. The music so fine, ringing in my ears. The chords, and the string solos all make so much sense now. The day has just begun for me, and I am already overwhelmed with the huge list of things I have planned to do today, not because I have to, but simply because I want to. It’s hard to tell if I am really here. In this place where everything feels good, and everything looks colorful and cheerful. The golden grass around my feet shine, to reflect the vividly colored sky. I can see a few glowing butterflies swarming around me. They mistake me for a beautiful flower. Things turn to gold at my wish. I feel like King Maidas. Have I been transformed into a magical soul?

There’s a cool breeze blowing in from the west. It brings along with it the heavy blue clouds and the smells, flavors of food and fine women from afar. The piece of cloth on my body flies in the wind. I am in pure bliss. My feet are well above land. And I feel the cold air even beneath my feet. It’s not love, not hate, just the way things seem now. Fine as a masterpiece He paints. It’s becoming me. And I am a part of this now…

negative hunger September 29, 2007

the black boxes have been playing the same frequency all day
a goat has been sitting here with complicated books and calculators
occasionally paying attention to what the jockey has been murmuring
the ‘others’ in the farm are busy as usual
they fly in simulated worlds and talk about numeric connectivity

brown rust deposited on the stove is hissing as it cools
water dripping from the silver tap forms a certain 9/8 rhythm
there’s music is in the air. it’s deafening

the fourth guinea pig is being mutilated in an asylum of white rats
his monotonic topics of discussions have been well explored
leaving him with his tongue twisted, and rendered useless
the surrounding is so pale, and it shall remain so for a while
he knows this, but doesn’t change it
not because he can’t, just because it’s already late
too late, like always, even this time, simply too late

his journey so looks like a rainbow to all who visit this farm
but for the creature, it has been just as tasteless as his breakfast
the techniques of heating and mixing is unknown to him
the plate is left empty, cause the others have already had remains of the previous produce

the lazy grasshopper is singing with its noisy voice as usual
the wise ant is moving sugar cubes from place to place pointlessly as usual
this is the new world? or just another faulty remake of the old black n’ white reel
with the same flaws and the same plots
a story that’s predictable, and characters made from striped socks and fingers
the show will go on, as promised. stay and watch as everything melts
one by one. please watch.

Night falls September 24, 2007

…And then again, you find yourself, walking on that same dim-lit street. You can see that same road below  your feet. And yet, it amuses you in more ways than ever. Those cracks, and the stagnant rain water trapped in between form interesting patterns, and the grainy tar road makes it look like a blurred painting. You look hard, and then your eyes focus to picking up more details from the dark atmosphere. You begin to see the reflections within the stagnant water. The light from those old orange colored spherical street lamps bounce off the water surface, makes it look like its glowing. You try to look away, but nothing around you is moving and nothing grabs your attention more than the ground below. You continue to walk on that street. The patches of moist green on the sides of road, along the side walk, and the white line becomes your guide. You can hear nothing, but yourself breathing. You can feel the veins on your fore head and behind your ears pulsate as your heart continues to beat heavily…

The shadow that’s been following you for the past ten minutes appears more darker now. You look at how it distorts your body, as you walk across the street lamps. You extend your hands and see how your shadow interprets your fingers. Skinny and long, like alien hands. You move your fingers as if you were grazing them over a bed of flowers. Imagine the garden. You can almost see it in the darkness ahead. You can almost smell those flowers. Some bright colors, and a million shades of green. You keep on walking. You just can’t stop, even if you wanted you. You just can’t.

Once in a while you turn your head around to look at silent strangers and noisy cars cruising along the street. The headlights from the cars blind you for a second, and the cold winds blowing in your face makes you wanna drop down. Maybe sit down for a while. You are exhausted, and your feet are just about to give up, but you just can’t stop, because you know that your destination is close by. Very close. You plan out things to do as soon as you get there. You make an efficient list of things and chores to do and end this day as soon as you possibly can. You plan to heat up the mashed potato curry you cooked last night, and have it with warm rice. Just the way you like it. Served on precious china, which the elder sibling bought you last month. That blue rimmed dinner plate, and the matching blue cup filled with your favorite brand of orange juice. And then a glass of milk. White, creamy. You love to blow it cold and sip it. It feels nice. So nice.

It’s just a painting, and so it shall be. It never speaks, but says so many things. About itself, its owner and its creator. It’s just a painting, it will never speak. Just look at the thousands of thoughtful strokes and tune your eyes to the million hues. Interesting. Don’t you think? This is a part of the painting. Framed. Beautiful frame.

diamonds in my eyes! August 23, 2007

WOW! i just can’t seem to get past that word! wow! ahem. well, almost two weeks in paradise now, and still the surprises and gifts keep pouring in from all directions. let’s see. lemme jus check my list again..

job – check
get a cute chineese girl’s number – check
pay all debts – check
have great food – check
get in bed with a red head – hmmm…

well, looks like my dream’s coming true. all this while. but the worst part is, the more closer you get to fulfilling your dreams, your dreams keep getting bigger and bigger. it’s like that atomic subdivision or something, where things get done only to half of what remains.. or some crap like that. and that would mean things would never get done completely. right? god… wow! there i go again!

lost in a map August 17, 2007

he’s right above me, all day long. with all the power vested in him, he tries to burn my skin and set my hair on flames. he loathes me for some reason i guess. he loves to torture me with that supreme divine power of his. ugh! i pray. i pray hard, for this fire fury to die. i dream of water plunges and dim lit corners. shady trees and flowery bushes. and then it happens. the fire is washed away. the water goddess shows herself, with her sticky wetness, and muddy puddles, the chilly nights and some juicy fungus. did she kill the fire? hell no, she hasn’t. he’s right behind those black cotton mountains, waiting for that opportune moment to let go that stored up mass of energy and dessicate one and all.

after a while you get sick of these gods and goddesses and their petty stories of conquest. and you tend not to care about what effects they have on your physical existence. i guess am reaching that state now. in a week or two perhaps. and then they’ll all seem the same. on either halves of the globe. they will look alike and stink just as bad. i await. my body tolerates. and tolerates. the mess is unsettling. but.. whatever!

and then you have those micro-prints. with the most important things mentioned in micro-prints, life just keeps getting better AAAAND better! ooh yeah! kick me right up my ass. and enjoy watching me falling face down on a poison ivy bush. fuck ya! ok. back to microprints. in short – it’s probably a tricky way to keep you in vain, until you figure out things on your own and no longer depend on those squares, rectangles and other odd-shaped geometric figures drawn in the most complicated way on an A4 sized paper. to make things a bit easier, they add numbers and alphabet sequences…and ironically, end up complicating things by ten folds. and then, everything goes up in the air, and sweet randomness takes its ugly birth. now it begins to look like a shredded dictionary with all of its pieces stuck up to the wall, and as if someone took a picture of this artwork with a 5$ poloroid camera and photo-copied that with the cheapest printer in some part of southern tribal kolapur, and then gave them away as charity to poor people so that they can help themselves around.

well, that’s easy…right?