Disguise

-cackle-
-swish-
-rustle of parchment-
Readers, regard 'you' in the abstract AND plural.

One.
“Aye.
Pity me to thy heart’s content.
Strew alms from thy lofty pedestal.
I am your charity, your prospect.
I, your chessboard, I, your spoil.
I am your gilded roulette table.

Pray robe me. In thy generous fabric,
Teach me words, give me ink.
Civilize me. I am anti-rubric,
A-form, anomalous, deviant,
I am the slack in your link.

I deny society.

Pity me.”

Two.
[If only I were in your vicinity
Now, you patronizing fuckface,
You would see my profanity
In my laughter, my homage.
How long? Your guess.

I am the forking serpent
In your Paradise.
Dishonest dice,
No FUCKING rice

In your famine.

I am bad rhyme.
Defaced dime,
Unholy clime,

Against your domain.

I am your foil,
I am your toil.
And once I boil
Over,

You are my disdain.
My BLOODY gain.

Amen.]

Three.
“My fears whet your reason
My tears wet your treason.
I am your receptacle,
Your prolific season.

Pity me.

Yet.
My eyes are nothing but orbs
Through your glasses.
And my tears are but cogs
Meandering your twisted passes.”

Four.
[FUCK YOU SHITHEAD.
Today.
I break your cuffs.
Smash your casino windows.

Today I freaking
Kill my rhyme,
Tear you off my pages.

My tears are not,
Were NEVER, real
You cuntface!

You bitch you goddamn fucker,
You. You. And you too.

Screw YOU. ALL.

All along have I known,
But have never let you know,
That I knew.
.....................For you knew that
I did not know.
.....................And, you see,
Letting you know, that I knew,
......................Would
......................Be

......................IDIOTIC.

Yea.
It would shatter thy complacent sadism.
It would make your observatory walls collapse,
Mist your telescope over, you asshole,
Grind your lenses,
Adulterate your fixatives.
And I, you see, wanted the experiment to end.

[Spineless hypocrite you!]

I had known all FUCKING along.
Don’t you see?
That you never did belong
In ruling ranges. You freak!

It has always- yes, always- been illusory. Elusive.
Newsflash, bitch!]

Five.
For,
I am you.
Your identity.
I am true,
I am your density.

I am what makes you opaque,
I am your form.
I am the leash around your neck,
I kill your norm.
Today.

Six.
Go pick on someone stupider, sucker!!

-crack-
-clink-
-splash-

-S…I…L…E…N…C…E-
_______________________________________________

Life update: I got a lip piercing so yayyy!! pics here.

To A Ghost Lover

....................................................I

The sky opens up.

How long ago was
The last time it did?
How long ago
Were the last rains?

The bolts are always
The same. Purple.
Blinding white at their core.
Sometimes the light
Enters the bedroom
And fuses with
The white heat
Of the tubelights.
It’s all electricity
In the end…

And how long ago
Were the last rains?

Not while you lived,
Not while you smiled,
Spoke, whispered and

Walked.
Not while you
Were you…

They say you still live.
They say you still
Get drunk
In the local pub…

They say that.

They also say You
Wander. Alone.
And they wait.
Tonight.
Like every night,
For you to return
Home.


II
For thus was it proclaimed at your funeral.

That you would return…
One night,
When the sky is so red
And so viscous,
And the trees so awake, (You Shall Return.)
That they shudder
And wonder…
Is it twilight?
Or is it dawn?

And they still know
That it is neither.

It is night.
And the skies have, now,
Shut their barrage gates…

It is night,
Quiet,
Red, luminous.

The equinox is approaching…
Dark merges into light,
Day, with night.
And the air waits…

III
Gases in the tubelights
Spark, flicker and waver…
The night is yet not dark enough
To kill the light with dark,
Not just enough.

How much more opaque?
They ask.
How much more opaque
Should the calm get
Sir?

IV
They have seen you.
You.
Frozen momentarily in this plane,
In headlights of
Car strangers, Strange
Cars… Strange.
Estranged.
You.

They have caught
The whiff of your
Drunken breath
In winter fogs
And summer hazes.

They have smelt the tobacco
Felt the look…
Your gaze…

But only I
Have felt your lips on mine.
I have felt your touch
On my neck.
Your arm around me,
Fingers entangled in mine.

Not a thing has changed
Since you
Became one
With the yew…

Not a thing…
Except,
I cannot see you.

V
And tonight,
That shall be redeemed.
You never really died.
The world,
Our world,
Knows you shall return.

And they hope.
Tonight, like every night,
They HOPE.

But tonight,

I.
KNOW.

VI
My love…



My love.

Pain

[I have run out of pronouns.
I hate ‘you’, I hate ‘I’.
How then do I talk?
Nay, not of you and I… for, I disown my you.]


They say,
Where blows the wind, there grows the poppy.
The Opium poppy.
They say,
Where grows the poppy, there shows the day.
Another day.
Not a new one. An Other one.
Of the other kind, running parallel
To our days.

They say,
Where shows the day, there bows the rain.
There bends the rainbow.
They say,
Where bows the rain, there vows the gold
At the root of the rainbow.

Wonder then: Have they looked for it?

They say,
The wind kills.
Kills in ecstatic raptures.
Kills a painless death.

Nay.
Are memories painless?
Even the golden ones?
The Death is painless,
Not the grave.
For the Grave is more real than the Death?
{Some wounds are ever so beautiful,
Dealt with such swords as one would die anyway
To be hurt with.
Death from such wounds
Is painless to say the least,
Blissful.}

The numbness that follows
In the darkness of that cold clam
Six feet under
Is Pain. Incarnate.

How strange are feelings
When wounds spell numbness
and even joy,
But the afterlife
Spells unbleeding Pain.

Rejoice then.

Is death validated
When emotion-spirits
Still hover?
Is death validated
By that painful sense
Of Existing through feeling?

Pray then

For a rain that washes off
The mud on the Grave.
Pray for a rain
That brings another rainbow
Arching from the Grave
To the Gold.
Another gold in another life.

An Other.

Life Shall Then Stand Alone.

Life Shall Love,
But not Yield.

Yield, the Mud Shall.
The Body Shall Push Daisies.
The Earth Shall Yield Crop.
The Grave Shall Yield the Spirit.

But Love Shall Not Yield.
And Neither Shall Life.

Egoisme a deux.
Amen.

Thy Will Be Done

Amor fati: let that be my love henceforth! I do not want to wage war against what is ugly. I do not want to accuse; I do not even want to accuse those who accuse. Looking away shall be my only negation. And all in all and on the whole: some day I wish to be only a Yes-sayer.” –Nietzsche

I do not wish to leave it to You Oh Mighty.

Not now

Not ever…

I do not wish to surrender to Your omnipotent will

You are all that I have, all that I will have…

Yours the only will…

So be not my nemesis.

Destiny, almighty,

I do not wish to believe You tore me apart.

I will not be reminded of Your despotic rule,

Even so,

Be patronizing for one moment in Your billion light years…

For,

I wish to believe-

And I will all of that wish to perceive-

That I had to be taken apart,

Even if You had not intervened

(If that were possible, that is,

For You are All, and

‘All’ does not intervene,

Instead, has to be intervened in…)

Let me believe then

That You were guided by the Greater will

Of Your own inevitability.

Give me one reason then..

One reason.

And I swear I will…

(And so I will my curses-…)

So give me one reason to despise.

[Amor fati is a Latin phrase that loosely translates to "love of fate" or "love of one's fate". It is used to describe an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one's life, including suffering and loss, as good. That is, one feels that everything that happens is destiny's way of reaching its ultimate purpose, and so should be considered good. Moreover, it is characterized by an acceptance of the events that occur in one's life. It is almost identical to the Jewish concept of Gam Zu Letovah (this too is for the best). ]

bye bye orange pie.

The dusks are gone.

Long ago
When they were almost inevitably, invariably,
And happily there,
The setting sun
Smelt of cigarettes and ice cream,
(Almost as a promise of days
That would return,
Like a blissfully tired brain…)

The smoke is still there.
And the cold.
Only not the orange…

I sacrificed my evenings to a meaningless cause,
As meaningless
As forced poetry,
Sheer stockings under jeans,
Persuasion and blames,

And push-up bras for fifty-five-year-olds.

I live.
And shall yet
Assign aims to objects,
Objectives to aims…
But never meanings to paralysis,
For there are none.

stupid.

It is said thou art too wise,
It is said
Thou canst not be deceived.

One score years ago
It was announced…

“This creature that is born
As the firmament doth pour down its sighs
In a dejected rain,
This creature that is born with
Talons,
And the high broad brow
Of a scholar,
Shalt be cursed forever
With a vision
Too clear to trust,
A heart
Too hardened to surrender
Even when it is necessary to.

This creature of chance
Shall be forever incapacitated,
For it may never willingly
Suspend disbelief,
And hence, never comprehend,
Nor assimilate, poetry.

This creature
Shall be at once cursed
And blessed
To never participate,
But always be the interested
And unattached observer,
And hence,
Always be alone,
But never suffer the infliction of company.”

One score years after this was prophesized
Lives
The creature that knoweth not trust,
Or love at its purest;

A creature that knoweth not complete blind surrender,
But wishes it did.

the age of enlightenment...NOT.

["Down, chemical sacrament.

Blasphemous prayer,

Deliver me from this

So serene apocalypse.

Just make me fucking numb,

Deaf, blind, and fucking dumb,

Return to sacred sleep.

This could be my requiem,

And I'll feel no pain.

This could be my requiem,

But don't bury me too deep."

-Lamb of God,

Requiem.]

.

.

.

Take away my reason for a change
I know I have no heart. I was created false.

So take away, for a while, that one thing that has made me run.
Like a toy train. My reason.

Or

Switch it off. Atleast for a day or two,
(I’ll need it again I daresay.
I’ll always need it and I’ll always have it.)

Just do not let it be my master.

I was created false.
I have no heart.
Let me be an idiot.
For a day or two.

So let me survive,
Grant me this and no more.

Leave me not the chair anymore
Let me not Judge.
Let me not pray,
Let me not seek
Balance.

Somewhere out there is the master blueprint.
But I shall never know.
I am a copy,

A counterfeit.
Perhaps one of many.

So why endow me with Reason beyond
What a clone needs

To function?

And yet,
I’ll need it again
Only to curse it again…

[Sometimes I really hope I were a poet.]

stitches and stakes.

i.
I bathe you
And embalm you.
For I love you.

All ready for the funeral;
Lovelier in death;
In repeated deaths
There you lie.

I know you shall wake up.
You always do.
Death is not death to you.

Every last rite
Is just a stake through the heart
(Your heart.)
Incompletely driven.
And They shall never kill
The undead.

And yet
Every time you die.
I am the chosen embalmer.
Preparing that lovely body
For a resurrection.

Another Death.
Another resurrection
Yet another death.
Wake up.
Sleep.
Wake up.

Sleep.

Shall I be there when
You wake up
For the last time?
No matter,
No one ever saw me.
For do you not always walk
In death as in life?
Or do you?

ii.

Who knows you better than I do?
I ,
Who have lived with you,
Laughed, wept,
Dreamed with you?
Looked for shelters with you?
Howled at the moon
With you?

They drive that stake through you.
I stitch you up, every time hoping
The stitches shall be strong
Too strong for Them
Perhaps
This time, at long
FUCKING last...

iii.
And
The nodes between any two lives
Remain incarnations of the same battle
Between thread and wood.
Stitches and stake.

iv.
There is a security

A numbness

In death.

Each death rattle brought relief.

But my work is not done

Till I close your eyes after the rattle

Rattles.

And my work is not done

Till I embalm you

And resurrect you

Only to see you die again.

And I am not free

Till you are.

v.

So set me free.

vi.

In death
As in love
I am yours. Forever.
And this time
I shall not let them win.

You have to live.
And smile again.

Words shall no more mean
Anything.
Neither will portraits.
(Once
A new one foretold
Every death.
Every time.)

Never again.

So wake.
Wake up.
I shall attend no more wakes, no more funerals.
This time
You have to live.

Bog

A flame.
That is all. They say
Life is a shade of grey
They say
Here and There
Now and Then
Forever and Away…

No.
I say
Life is a marsh
A bog, stretching away.
And despair
Worries
Anxieties
Part of its fabric. Like moss.

L’ennui
The wetlands.

They’re not new.
Not the boredom,
Nor the despair.
Blah.
One gets used to them.
Like
You get used to life
Say?

And the Whites
The Lights
The roses
The Goods.

LIFE. (not life. LIFE.)
Only will-o’-the-wisps.
Fluttering
Flickering
Momentary
(Perhaps momentous).
Elusive all the same.
(mofo long words.) :

Ignis fatuus.
Foolish fire.
Yes
We’re all fools.

-flicker-
-flicker-


Poof.
Amen.

kweshchun aansaar,

or, the LO.....NG TAG!

tagged by anurima.

First name: Priyadarshini

single or taken: :wicked grin: Never you mind!

sex: Female

birthday: September 17th

siblings: Younger pesky bro.

hair colour: Dark brown.

shoe size: 6

height: 5'4".

innie or outie: Innie. Ahem.

what are you wearing right now: Nightdress. Woke up half an hour ago ysee.

righty or lefty: Righty

can you make a dollar in change right now: I’m utterly worthless. No.

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relationships
------------------------------------------------------------

who are your closest friends? Ah. My music I guess.

do you have a BF or GF? Well. Or, as Facebook puts it, it's complicated.

best place to go for a date: Olypub. :D

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favourites...
---------------------------------------------------------------

favourite place to shop: Planet M!!!

favourite kind of pants: Skinny Low rise Jeans!

favourite colour: Duh!! Black.

number(s): Eeee!! 67. Hmph!

animal: CAT!!!!! CAT! CAT!!

drink: Water, Vodka.

sport(s): Hate is a strong word. I wish I had a stronger word to describe my feelings towards sports.

fast food place(s): KFC.

month: September and October. The Autumn months.

current movie: Watched Quantum of Solace a couple of days ago. I don’t generally have the patience for movies. Go figure.

juice: Mango.

finger: Wha? Ok. Black nailpolish, skull rings, silver rings. All of them I laik.

breakfast: Heh. Brunch.

favourite cartoon character(s): Shin Chan!!!!
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have you ever:
----------------------------------------------------------

given anyone a bath? Nah. Ugh.

smoked? Hell yes!

bungee-jumped? Nope.

made yourself throw up? Who hasn’t?

gone skinny dipping? No.

eaten a hot dog? What? WHAT? YES! Is that even a question?

put your tongue on a frozen pole? Blagh. No.

loved someone so much it made you cry? Nah. Jeeesus!!!!

broken a bone? Nope.

played truth-or-dare? Dammit yes.

been in a police car? No.

been on a plane? Duh yes.

been in a sauna? No.

been in a hot tub? Yeah.

gone swimming in the ocean? Snorkelled. GUIDED snorkelling morelike. I can’t swim.

fallen asleep in school? Yes. In college too.

ran away? :scowls: No. Would LOVE to though!

broken someone's heart? I suppose so.

cried when someone died? Yes.

cried in school? Heck yes!!

fallen off your chair? Off my chair, no. But with my chair, yes. More than once, having tilted the chair back on the two back legs a degree too much.

sat by the phone all night waiting for someone to call? Hee!! What asshole does that?

saved e-mails? The new Gmail!! HAHA! Unlimited storage haha!! :D I’ve starred important/interesting mails AND chat transcripts. ;P

fallen for one of your best friends? No.

made out with JUST a friend? Yep.

used someone? Ooh yes.

been cheated on? Nah.

----------------------------------------------------------------
what is...
----------------------------------------------------------------

your good luck charm? Blah. Luck has never been my strong point.

the best song you ever heard? Everytime I die by Children of Bodom.

the stupidest thing you have ever done: LOADS. Can’t begin to count. I headbanged to Dani California for instance. Then I wore blue nailpolish to school when I was 14, and got my hand shown to the entire class by the dickheaded teacher with the words-“She’s looking like a witch!!”

what's your room like? Eee! Shared with bro. :| Awardwinningly messy!!! With the usual essentials, PC, books, guitar.

the last thing you said? “Why me!!” after I had to wake up at 10:30 to close the door after the maid had left.

what is beside you? A random pen drive. :thinks, and gives up: I don’t know who it belongs to.

the last thing you ate? Assorted fruits. AM eating actually.

what kind of shampoo do you use? Schwarzkopf Smooth. Rs 575.

the best thing that has happened to you this year? Growing up. :) I'm still far from being a proper adult mind you, but still.

the worst thing that has happened to you this year? Uh. Isn’t that rather rhetorical a question to ask a hopelessly adolescent idiopathic depressive? ;)

----------------------------------------
have you had..
----------------------------------------

chicken pox? No.

sore throat? Bleh.

stitches? Na. I was always a quiet and shy child.

broken nose? Fuck you.

-------------------------------------
do you
-------------------------------------

believe in love at first sight? NO. Anyone that does is dumb.

like picnics? LOVE them.

like school? Not. At. All.

--------------------------------------
would you/what is
---------------------------------------

eat a live hamster for $1,000,000 : No. Could chop YOU up for $1000 though.

if you were stuck on an island, what people would you want with you? Alexi Laiho. Hee.

who was the last person that called you? Tanay.

who was the last person you slow-danced with? One of my earliest traumatic childhood memories is when I got left out of a performance coz I couldn’t dance. Now, though, I can dance better than most fatassed bitches.
And anyway I’d rather headbang. :D

what makes you laugh the most? Reema, and any random thing she says. Also my bro. Also ShinChan.

what makes you smile? Metal. Rock.

--------------------------------------
who is the last person
--------------------------------------

you yelled at? Mom.

who broke your heart? No one did.

who told you they loved you? Dabba. Last night.

who is your loudest friend? Nilanjana!!!, and quietest, Anu.

------------------------------------------------------------
do you/are you:
------------------------------------------------------------

do you like filling these out? Erm. Not really, but I get something to post on my nearly-dead blog.

do you wear glasses or contacts? No.

do you like yourself? Oh I’m the best! I LOVE myself. :)

do you get along with your family? Yeah I suppose.

stolen anything over $50? Never.

obsessive? Always.

compulsive? Sometimes.

anorexic? Nope.

suicidal? Have been. Occasionally. Not right now though.

schizophrenic? I wouldn’t know. ;)

--------------------------------
love life
-------------------------------

do you have a crush? Have had. Not infatuations mind you. Mere crushes.

if so, does he or she know? Bleh. I don’t care.

have you truly told him or her how you feel, face to face? Wtf!!! My crushes have always been superficial!

what is so great about him or her? All of them looked good. Fullstop. I’m the kind that runs behind 1. Love for metal, 2.Looks.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
this or that
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

coffee or tea: TEA!

phone or in person: GTalk owns man!

are you oldest, middle, youngest or only child: Elder.

indoor or outdoor: Indoor.

--------------------------------------------------
final questions
-----------------------------------------------------------

how many people are you sending this to: Er. Anyone that cares to?

what are you listening to right now? Eat of the Dead by Nile. Technical metal at its best!

what did you do yesterday? Went to college. Scored 7.5 out of ten on a paper. :D And then went to Olypub and guzzled down beer. Was supposed to study with semester exams less than 5 days away, but no.

where do you want to get married? I don’t want to! The max I'd go would be a live-in, in a cosy lil flat.

if you could change anything about yourself, what would it be? I’d love to be a person who didn’t get half as much worked up over little things as I do.

are you a good driver? I can’t drive. Happy?

are you a good singer? I can do some Death growls. But no, I’m not a good singer in the conventional sense of the expression.

what do you dream about? The last dream I remember was about Cobain dying. And I woke up crying. No seriously.