(Good)bye

(Good)bye

The wind flushed in strings of memories attached to his past, as the drops of sunshine and rain illumated his present.

“Arunav, come fast the auto is here” said Arvind 

The voice of his brother seemed familiar, like his mother calling him out to have dinner with his cousins.

The red raging eyes when he revolted against everything, the wall he had built to fight against the preying eyes of his relatives seemed too high for his loved ones, his mother, his brother, his father all blocked away by the bricks of his silence.

The sound of the horn slowly fades into his awareness…. *Beep Beep* *Beeeeep*

“ARUNAV” 

“What are you doing man? Everyone is waiting for you” said Arvind.

As he got up from the wet pedestal, his feet comes out of the cold water, the wet footsteps left marks of his existence as he walks, waiting to be erased by the wind and time.

The rain has stopped, it seems…

The darkness of the dawn from his past roll like a cinema real in front of his eyes, his mother lying there stiff and still as a fly sat on her inflinched pupil…

As he sat inside the vehicle, taking him far away from his past, to remember once again the trees, the rivers and that wind that never lasts.

Lost In Time

Lost In Time

Walking ino the burning wood, the ceiling cracles, the sound of the cinder numbs his senses.

“HELP” “PLEASE HELP”

The voice gets louder and louder clearing out the silence, expanding like a ripple in the lake.

“HELP, SOMEONE….. ANYONE”

Rushing in, lifting the burning logs aside with his bare hands, the fire stings like a needle, leaving a mark of it’s existence. Sparking wires hanging from the ceiling, breaking the cracking down.

“No time!”

He runs as fast as his legs could carry him, the child hiding under the table, afraid, terrified and waiting for death, alone sitting there accepting her faith accepting the reality of the demons deep within her.

“C’mon Child” The fear in those hazel eyes, terror struck pupils.

*No Time*

Pulling the little hands as her fingers slip away, he walks out with the infant in his arms, back from the death resurrected back to live.

Slipping figures, slipping death, the dream like no other, the crackling cinder echos in his past like dream lost in time.

A Dreamless Slumber

A Dreamless Slumber

The collective of all thoughts, a big bubble of consciousness, like a blanket holding every idea and creation itself, the scattering rays penetrate the end of time , tracing the future, mapping the past, watching over the now….

Dhanush opens his eyes, the glare of the sun itching his eyes, reminds him of a morning lost in time, “Get Up Da? എത്ര നേരം ആയി?” venkesh said.

 The force of gravity seemed stronger than usual, the subjective reality collides with the objective, the mind plays tricks like a wizard imprisoned by his own spell…

*Ting Tong* 

“It must be the garbage man” said Venkesh, expecting his friend to get up and take the garbage out.

Pushing against the mattress, fighting against the infinite forces of nature that remain stable… “Stable? Or ever collapsing each second?”

*Ting Tong* *Ting Tong*

“Da? Take the garbage out, I’m taking a fat shit here man, and where are all the roach clips? I just burnt my finger”

Pain, the prisoner of sanity, the sunlight from the window burns his face, slowly with each second, killing millions of atoms in a second, so much chaos but it feels peaceful, it feels complete, how long would it take for this sun light to burn his whole face? A thousand years! Rationality measuring time out of its reach, fading away into the bottomless pit, the body drifts away into time…..

Chimes

Chimes

The ceiling fan rotates slowly gaining speed with each second, the brown fins slowly dissappering in time, the shrill touch of the waves as it hits the bank of the ocean, touching the sand in the infinite pool of the liqu….

“Hey Devansh” said Vaishali, It’s been years since someone called him by that name, his mother used to call him that, DEV-ANSH a part of God as his mother had told him… “Is Vipul around? said Vaishali, He always hated her voice, the high pitched shrill of a noise she made,the black mark on her neck like a cancer eating her away…

“No! He is…” “Out yeah! That’s what you said the last four times I asked you” As she invited herself into the dimly lit room, the slow creaking of the door itching his ears as she closed it behind her. 

“I’m hungry” she said as she grabs the box of Chinese food, slurping the noodles, the tiniest drop of sauce falls on her perfectly white skirt, the perfect imperfection, causing you, making you, making this, now…  “You don’t like me do you?” Said Vaishali!

Was he stupid not to like her? The perfect pretty face, the canvas of god’s creation, he hated her with a dash of lust, funny how emotions mix like suspended paint, the countless times he pictured her naked getting undressed, as he ejaculated.. “No it’s nothing like that, you are…. Umm…. Ok!” he said as he searched for a better word “OK?,Well…. ” As she reached out to the table to find the half lit cigarette, “You can’t smoke in here!” 

*DING* “It must be Vipul, I’ll get it” 

That Awkward Moment

That Awkward Moment

Bursting out into this bloody mess out of the vagina of a woman who wears a badge,the name tag “Mother” it says.

The feeling of suffocation the effort to breathe, to stay alive. The warm big home of the newborn floating in the fluids without effort feeling the process of creation, feeling the sense of feeling as it grows.

She smiles the woman who wears the name tag as she holds him, smiling over the suffering of the child, a monster, the mother.

The moment of birth, the first breath, coming into this universe or coming out of it? The magician’s creation walking with time, till the last breath holding onto it. That awkward moment between birth and death.

Emotions, feelings, senses all fade away as he lies there. “He is 91” said the maid looking over him holding the hinges of the metal bed.

You see your children they say, their smiling faces, the beeping sound slowley fading away ,the last thought stuck in the back of the mind like a suspended  chime clinging unsaid from the breeze.

The G.O.D Delusion

The G.O.D Delusion

Diviation, the cure for the insane, the medicine for the painter. 

Colliding realties, expanding possibilities, dissolving logic, scattering cultures, the pure form emerges from the garbage of human thought, the untouched potential of the unknown lying beneath us, the eyes look for the answers, close them once and experience the sight.

“The world ends so do I, I end so does the world” The mirror of ontological reality reflecting the fickle image of the biagoted absolute of the watcher’s  sight sitting on the throne of ignorance as he looks down upon the the diminished seed of self.

Don’t give into the astonishment, the realisation that reality is but a matrix of perception -Terrence McKenna

The passport to the numinous lies within, the GOD lies beneath this body, the cluster of ignorance and material ideas holds us off the sight of the ONE.

THE ONE

THE GOD

THE YOU

THE I.

Transcending and pearcing through space and time, defying logic I go. The darkness over the horizon grows as I fly over the infinite oceans that flow. Beyond the expansion of the unknown I land watching over time as it unfolds.

Life becomes a diminished dream of my childhood as I see, the force of love and evil scattering and colliding with me. I become the shooting star a million light years away, I become the last glimpse of a dying old man as he fades away.

Asteral 

Asteral 

The sound of water droplets as it falls on the chair outside, tiny spheres of suspended droplets scatter into thousand tiny particles, splitting like an atom, scattering like a star.

“Comeback”

Lying down straight, the tention in the spine like a life long itch, the cushion under the head, penetrates the skull.

Chill of the winter freezes the movement, actions ends, thoughts become symbols of inert words, floating in the vacuum of the mind.
The mystery in the letters that stand together, holding the plastic meaning of the abstract feelings; love, anger, frustration-mere symbols of human sounds, language becomes the barrier to the emotional realm.
‘FOCUS’

*Breathing in*

The cool air glides into the nose, into the chest, expanding body, creating it, maintaining it, keeping it alive.

Lying there, in the moment, in the present self, slight itch on the tip of the nose, the test of the body.

“Mind awake, body asleep”

“Mind awake, body asleep”

“Mind awake, body asleep”

Accepting the sting like sensation on the nose as it branches out, accepting this reality as it is, bringing it into the comfort zone, bringing it to becoming me.

Each breath shorter than the last, as the body gets heavier with each moment, the breath slowly fades away, releasing the pain, relieving it from the struggle.

Sudden vibration, the terbulance of separation, the last attempt to stop the self from leaving.

“Mind awake, body asleep”

“Mind awake, body asleep”

“Mind awake, body asleep”

*POP*

Floating, as the breeze of time flows through me.

There it is, the body, lying in the reality of suffering and pain.

I’m free

Free to go, free to be

Just as it is, just as ME!