Diablo

My first fully automated poem (directly typed, not written anywhere)
Keep guessing whats this all about

Free

Here I stand,
with all my life and my spiritual energy drained from me
and it happened not once but hundreds of times,
on this journey, that ends today, only for this day

Only reminiscence remains
of this enfeebling experience
because everything else is either destroyed or burnt up
and everything that lived on his will is rotting in its pool of blood

And there he lays, the lord of terror himself
He dropped not only his weapons but also his pride.
His kingdom, the entire hell, shook when he fell
and he was banished to where he came from

I remember the day when I came upon being,
carrying only a small shield in one hand, and a hand axe in the other,
two scrolls, one for the portal to town and one to identify something magical, in my sash,
four minor healing potions, and my biggest asset, my faith.

For I was called up from the mountains, to help the rogues
Trouble plagued the sisters and everyone living in the encampment
There was a certain foulplay, a certain evil which no one could explain
And it was taking life, of innocent human beings

I came for a little gold, and with a little thought to do good
But then my whole purpose of existing in this world changed
when Akara, the high priestess, gave me my first quest.
She asked me to get rid of the evil that was growing in a nearby den.

Never had I thought that I would see such horrid creatures
And never did I imagine I would confront the prime evils.
The creatures in the den were finished, and they taught me,
that what does not kill me, only makes me stronger.

I rescued my now best friend, deckard cain, from the clasp of evil
He helped me the most on this journey,
Lending me his immense knowledge, and helping me identify,
not only unknown magical items, but also my potential.

He told me that if the way to the eastern desert city of lut gholein is cleared,
trade can be reestablished between us and them,
Then I fought passionately against the monsters and the blacksmith
whose reclaimed horadric malus helped charsi imbue my greaves with magic

On my way here, I have fought many creatures of the dark
From dark ones to devilkin shamans, from misshapens and moon clans
to foul crows and burning dead archers, from undead scavengers and sabre cats,
to dead-raising elders and poisonous & freeze attacking claw vipers.

On my way here I have fought his minions,
like brutes, andariel, radamant, fire mages, duriel the stone skin,
sand and blood maggots, ulthirs, the stone smith, fetishes,
arachnes, venom lords, maw fiends, and the tortured soul of Izual the betrayor.

His hatred against me was intensified when I won against
his brother, mephisto, the lord of hatred,
and smashed his soulstone so that he doesn't reappear in this world again.
For that was when his plot of fooling us was demolished.

I had to face dirty politics of greedy people like gheed n elzix.
My sincerity and honesty were questioned when I was spending time inside
the harem of Jerhyn's palace, though I was only cleansing it of evil.
But I did win the heart of aatma, whose husband's and son's death I avenged.

I used the strength of shields like The ward, Steelclash, Havoc emblem,
and the protection usage of Demonhide sashes and plated belt of the mammoth.
I used rings like nagelring, eagle touch, stone spiral,
and amulets like angelic halo to help me on my ultimate quest.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I stood at the gates between hell and earth.
I had come all the way to a place called Pandamonium fortress
Which was the last bastion before his kingdom, and was made sacred by
the blood of thousands of holy knights of god, who died on the way to kill him.

I used Two handed swords, broad swords, and flamberges like demon sever.
To put an end to the misery of the Lake keepers and zakarumites,
I used mauls, hailstone scythes,and crowns like soul cowl.
And greaves like Vidala's fetlocks, and gauntlets like bitter fist and chance guards.

When I fought his mana draining specters opening the five seals inside the chaos sanctuary,
I could see that I was going to face him,
for he was running out of excuses to confront me, and running out of his minions,
He finally appeared, accepting my challenge, because I had made him do that.

The duel lasted an eternity, and shook, among everything, my biggest asset, my faith.
For he used terror among his weapons such as fire breath, freezing hands,
and his soul piercing shrill cry, and his expanding wall of flame.
I thought I would die and wanted to go back to the safety of home....

I had used up all the potions I had brought, and I was running out of strength,
and life, and options, for it was only one out of my ten dread-song-the-great-sword blows
that were making way to his acquired body.
But then I remembered.....

I remembered the faces of all the paladins and amazon warriors,
and sorceresses and necromancers, who had come here to do what I finally could do.
I could see them in a mode of prayer, I could see the faith they had in me, in their eyes.
That there will be no home to go back to, if I don't finish it now.

I mustered up and their faces doubled my courage.
With all my might and remaining life, I stunned him with a blow,
and without giving him a chance to recover, I gave out my battle cry.
It weakened his armour, and I could see it in his eyes.


He made his last effort, but my shield deflected it.
With the tip of my great sword, I finally put an end to his existence.
His horns had to make their way down to the blood drenched ground.
I know I couldn't save everyone, but I did give the remaining a chance to rebuild their lives, their homes and their faith.

TRANCE

My passion......

TRANCE

The sun is shining brightly upon my face.
There are too many people pushing me in this place.
The wind keeps blowing in my hair,
but I don't care.

I've been stuck in traffic for twenty mins now,
I don't know where have I reached and how.
There's smoke and stench in the air,
but I don't care.

The bus has stopped moving,
but my body is still rocking,
That lady keeps staring at my closed eyes at every chance,
but I don't care, because I am in trance.

All I feel is the ambient energy,
All I hear is the turntable spinning at one-forty
beats per minute, as gifted by my
gods like chicane, ATB and BT.

In my veins, I can feel the rush of adrenaline,
when the music takes me to a deep world inside of me.
after which comes a surge of soothing morphine-like endorphine
when jan screams "reach out for me".

It is pure, it is resonant,
It is psychedelic, It brings reverie,
It results in a headrush, It is bohemian,
It is a bliss, It is ecstasy.

It is the state closest to meditation.
It is the state I want to be in all the seasons.
It is how I attain complete isolation.
Thank you artists, and my voice gods and godesses.

march 5 2006

Yes, I was there....

This one holds a special place in a lot of my friends' hearts. Because the content is about the most beautiful time we spent in TCS. The Initial Learning Program, which was held in trivandrum. This is a little high context so perhaps not everyone will be able to associate with it.


Yes, I was there....

Where there were 4 coconut trees in every backyard
Temple's music instruments woke us up during onam mornings
where, to digest food, was very hard
Where we had TT, badminton & carrom sessions in the evenings

Where everyone could say "Good morning" in 3 foriegn tongues
And everyone addressed us as "chetta" or "chechi"
where milma milk shake & sharja were available in tonnes
We used to order it at 8 pm and get it at 8:40

Where outside food was very popular
'coz inside vegetables were made of coconut oil mostly
except the always in demand choco bar
and the coupon coffee we had on level 0 roof, happily

Where we used to throw paper around the class
or use them to write comments for fish pond
Feedback forms & project documents; we used to pass
with Gopal & Suresh, everyone sang at least 1 song

Lunch break was long, like the queues
In slot C everyone used to get sleepy
Where boys didn't go to the library for book issues
& in Reju's lectures, girls used to feel sweaty

Where on-pitch & on-stage efforts were appreciated
among hundreds of clappers during batch-leaving ceremonies
There were many tests in a short period, we felt being grated
Waking up late in night, we gave each other our company

Where we used to sit in a circle to sing
We wore casuals, positions varied on the hostel floor
We used to knock on everyone's door, for every small thing
We used to chat and play for hours, yet we always wanted more

Where we called Suresh transports thrice on fridays
Waited desperately for a strike or weekends
To reach back "home", we explored all the ways
Where we made close & lifelong friends

Friends with whom we used to share
our secrets, our desires, our passions & stories
Friends with whom we travelled everywhere,
danced at coffee beanz n did the laundries

Where 3 seas meet & a strong wind blows
Where saltwater becomes road & the beaches are long
Where over tea plantations, fresh water flows
Where indulging in nature never feels wrong

Where guys chased guys in night to give bumps on their birthdays
Where we had to remove our shirts & wear dhotis to enter a temple
Where our very first earnings, a company pays
Where we craved home food, yet ate in a hotel

Where inside class we played bond-building & evaluating games
Where meat, coffee, sun & rain were in plenty
Concrete jungle & techno jungle can never be the same
And never again in life can we be one/two over twenty

Words cannot tell how much I miss that place
Or my friends, whom I want to be with, still
These are the memories which the wave of time can't erase
That I will cherish, from the bottom of my heart, I know I will

Ironic

Another one in the lines of non-rhymers: (Kinda reminds one of the song by alanis morissette by the same name)



why is your favourite t-shirt available only in xxl?
why is that bachelor-you-have-been-eyeing-on for so long, gay?
why is the question paper full of things you left for the last moment
and asks nothing about the chapter you have been mugging all day before?

ever wonder why the day remains perfect as long as you are inside,
and it starts pouring as soon as you plan to soak in the perfection?
or why does the cable union go on a strike on the very day
you took a sick leave to enjoy watching a game of cricket?

when you are sitting inside a giant wheel it feels like,
you would be rather in the wave pool giving out a scream.
maybe it feels like a table full of forks when
all you want is a spoon to finish your melting ice cream.

After you analyse the market graph in depth and invest in
your company of dreams, why is the whole town, from a scam, rocked?
Why does the motor company announce its discount on the range of cars
one week after you bought one from those stocked?

the bike skidded off and the rider suffered injuries to his head
the first time he forgot to wear his helmet
the computer professional saved the life of a hurt animal
because all his life he wanted to be a vet

perhaps only those drown who are afraid of the waters,
and only those catch diseases who take the most precautions,
maybe you get what you don't want, so that you want beyond what is up for offers,
and maybe life controls only those who take no controlling actions.

22 jan 2006

jab dard kahin aur se uthe (my first hindi/urdu one)

jab dard kahin aur se uthe

vo hamari aadato ka mazaak udate hain
hone wale dost ko hamsafar samajhte hain
ek haseen lamhe ko dekhkar
zindagi bhar ka khwaab dikhate hain

har mauke par unke naam se chidhate hain
unke sambandh se gaana gaate hain
har lamhe ko tabaah karne ko daudte hain
kaam ke liye saath bhi nahi baithen dete hain

shayad vo khud bhi yahi chahate hain
dabi hui tamannao ko aur dabate hain
aur us anokhe-sanjog milan ke mauke ka
khwab dekhte hain, par hame vo lamha jeene nahi dete hain

I make you.....

I Make You....


On one fine day, I set out,
to find out who are you
although experienced, but without
any clue, and perspective too.

You could be beauty, or joy;
you can be grace, or wonder.
You may be one fragile toy
or a path to tread on, or simply desire.

I derive that as I drive forth,
you are neither hunger nor satisfaction,
you are neither pain nor comfort.
You are definitely not salvation.

You are neither flame nor the wind,
there is no stance, nor innocence
in you, there is but essence.
You are not vicious, neither kind.

Not a concept, definitely not obscurity,
you are neither the search, nor its result,
You have neither warmth, nor enmity,
Associated with you - is neither motivation nor the guilt.

You are a biased treason,
oozing out power and lust.
For some, you are the reason,
being impartial and unjust.

Yet you are the hope, the freedom,
the knowledge, of honesty
or other wise. You demand fiefdom,
belief, envy, yet offer no treaty.

Inspite of this, I have faith in you.
You instill solace, and memory.
I search for the answers - and questions in you
for you are the perfect story.

And as deeper I foray,
into me; you are neither black
nor white, you are grey;
you are the tallest stack.

For you are neither teacher nor the taught,
neither intelligent nor played with.
Neither experience, nor realisation is fought.
Neither my id, nor ego is entertained with.

You are neither dream nor accomplishment
And I could be the force, the sum.
We are the journey, the achievement.
O life! You are what I am.

A Water Fountain

I have given birth to this baby from the 26th of the april to the 28th.. The credit for the title goes to Amishi.

A Water Fountain....

There she stands, so serene, so befuddled
Sometimes in the arms of purity, thrown.
Sometimes isolated, sometimes huddled.
At times surrounded, but mostly alone.

She attracts all those who are thirsty,
for water, spirit or truth,
and never does one soul remain murky,
for she quenches from head to foot.

She has a story to tell,
She's no ordinary stimuli,
She's an archive, a distinct smell
of man's life, unwise and holy.

She stands on the literal 'royal' garden,
created by a sweet, honest endeavour.
On her shoulders she carries a burden
of man's sins, deeds and flavours.

For the people who are seeking solace,
She tells that it hasn't changed from
the times there were kings; the grace,
the beauty, the faith, the consortium.

Indeed, for those who can accept life,
she has a very different version to speak,
Yes it hasn't changed: The same strife,
the diplomacy, the beaurocracy, the slink.

There is a plethora to learn from her.
How not to desire, how to give.
How to distribute love, how to nurture.
How to flow through life, and how to live.

My stupidest poem, Isha sweets

This is a poem that i wrote on 14th march, 2003. The situation was as such...I had asked setu to give me a topic on which i could write any poem. He started giving me the names of laila-majnu couples of my class. Obviously, i demanded him of a topic on which i need not be diplomatic. After all this, he couldn't come up with any better idea than a tiffin box that was lying there (it was used by the people to make a robot for our college tech fest). The tiffin box said, ISHA SWEETS. And then i came up with this in about 20 minutes...

ISHA SWEETS

When I told my friend,
that i went to buy a pen,
from a shop near Isha sweets,he said,
"Ya, Isha's sweet".

"Which Isha are you talking about?" I said
"Which one do you want to know?"
"The slim one, or the one with a pout,
I've seen you with both of them, you know".

"Maybe 'Isha' is an abbreviation for
I'm Supposed to Have All". He said.
"You've such a dirty mind, you dork"
What a bad remark, I made.

I thought he's becoming more of a crook
Although, it was true, what I heard
But he was talking of an Isha Publication book
Imagined him a jerk, he turned out to be a nerd.

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