Author Archives: daakusaxena

“City, You’re Next”- ManUnited

11 Saturday Feb 2012

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You don’t tell us to go away,
Chelshit learnt this the hard way.
We made the Blues suffer the blues,
For the draw must hurt as much as it would to loose.

Now the Scousers were in our path,
We being Nineteen Titles and a fucking world apart.
Looserpool won’t shut their mouth for a bit,
So at the Theatre of Dreams, we made them taste shit.

And City-Shitty, here we come,
You’re our neighbours, but be very alarmed.
For you would suffer more than the rest,
Laid to rest, by a bullet at chest.

Be My Valentine

09 Thursday Feb 2012

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A long sigh,
A sly smile,
Walked up to me and asked,
Would you be my valentine?

Beautiful eyes,
Concealing secrets divine,
Long hair- brightly shine,
Could I be her valentine?

Does my face say it all?
That one is single and bear no more,
The pressures of the society cave in,
To get a date even if it kills from within?

Not there yet, told myself the year last,
Being single’s liberating, the motto of past,
Do I have to follow this stupid trend,
Asks me to the self, again and again.

There are so many better things you can do on a fourteenth night,
Watch some movies, fill your mind with delight,
For the others don’t know what they’re missing,
They are only on their dates, dancing and kissing.

One should be above that, the mind reminds the self,
Stupid pleasures, cupid the silly pest,
I’m so better off driving the highway alone,
The drink and the joint’s better than the partner in your arms.

I think of all this as I consider her proposal,
Not bad looking is she, could I do better?
And all those years of singleness come crashing down my eyes,
I fall to my knees and beg yes! I would be your valentine.

A life lived. A life that was. And of course, the Convocation which went.

01 Wednesday Feb 2012

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There comes a time in everyone’s life when the boundaries between white and black begin to fade, the color grey starts having a startling new dimension and the horizon appears a tad closer, from the assuming infinity it has acquired from time immemorial. Times like these, the bonds of kinship re-appear and the feeling of mutual respect gains a foothold in the already fluttering hearts. For some fortunate ones of us, all these combined at a single intangible time, in a single day, when everyone gathered at the barricades of what once welcomed us with open arms- for one last time.
The journey already being the stuff of legends, the gladiators looked erringly decent with the unmistaken air of success, but you could guess, from the body language, what had been so important between the time when everyone had bid their goodbyes and coming back- and again I say it- for one last time.
They say closure is important. Was the two-three day return, an escape from normalcy, a mere closure? It went more and beyond, reliving four years in two days- a mere forty eight hours ! One would expect a tirade in circumstances likewise, but what settled here was an effluent calm, a harmony of poles apart, brought in from messengers all over the country, who all came, to experience what cannot ever be experienced again- for the first and the last time.
One might have been out of his senses the whole time he was there, but you didn’t need drugs for a change to rake-in the high. The munificence of marijuana and the magnificence of scotch only added to the beauty of the occasion. The solemn smiles radiant in the eyes of the beholders only reminded the observant to what he/she is going to miss.
Rushdie says ‘what cannot be cured must be endured’. I disagree. And the bunch of people who have stood by my side over these years would disagree. For there is a hidden middle path. Of not giving a damn. That was what made us, this was what defined us. And these two days were a blatant proof of taking it all in, and returning it with a smile.
As Hank Moody puts it, “Sometimes its better not to touch your dreams. Take it from someone who knows.” We did. We all did tread on them, softly, subtly and often than not, in a hurry and the reminiscence of what all has passed will bring a sad smile. Of not being able to live it all again. For the parting went as sudden as the union. But there were no tears this time, for everyone knew before embarking to the place where dreams had been made that someday, dreams have to come to an end.

You and I will meet again

25 Wednesday Jan 2012

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Where the city sleeps and the oceans rain,
When everybody sane is lost in vain.
Where the merciless nature is devoid of pain,
There, you and I will meet again.

Where hearing aids the sounds of silence,
Where serenity complements the static variances,
When the need of the hour becomes a cause of grievances,
Then, you and I will meet again.

Where words complement the promises unsaid,
Where action gets ahead of the reason in hand,
At the time when the clock hits the eventful dime,
At that, you and I will meet again.

The glory days will be lived again,
When you and I will meet again.

These entwined roads should never end,
For you and I must meet again.

Immortals (Army of the living dead)

05 Thursday Jan 2012

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Army of the living dead

Between the adored and the adorer falls the shadow,
Roar sometimes, the children of the gallows,
They smite and they cry, in tatters the spirit inside,
Watching silently as time flies by.

Memory fails in the wake of being alive,
Giddily they forget, tenderly try remember what’s benign.
Thor the brave hammers down at them,
Medusa the great walks to give them the eye.

In vantage of the dark, the vintage occupy,
What’s not theirs to own, as the gist defines.
The grit, ever present, stands inclined for malevolence,
Leave at their wake, gnats and flies to feast at the fallen.

The spittoon carries venom, debilitates the prey,
Wrought as they come, come what may.
The need for rectitude is long lost,
Dilapidated the skin lags, bones as their hangers.

Opposition is anything but a charade,
Beating them would take an altogether different masquerade.
Till then, they lay waiting in the dark,
To live, to pain, to die, long for a feel at last.

Vengeance – Prologue

14 Wednesday Dec 2011

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[Scene: Flashback. Dark Street.]

“But who are you?”
“Me? I am the question in search of answers and I am the answer in search of questions. I am the light in search of darkness and I am the darkness in search of light. I am the sanity in madness and the subjectivity to your objectivity. I am that piece of the puzzle which doesn’t fit and I am that sign on the sidelines that you always seem to miss. I am the ripple in the silent sea and I am the name the cold wind brings. A clown in search of clowns, that is what I am miss..?”
“Rachel. They call me Rachel. Are you crazy?”
“I am but a conviction of reality. And truth, they say, is stranger than fiction. I am a vagabond who has no name. You can call me anything”
“It’s cold in here. I live nearby, would you like to have coffee or something?”
“Of course. When a pretty lady like yourself asks for anything, it’s difficult to say no.”

I blushed. He was attractive, his manners radiant, with a face as magnetic as the force itself. One thing led to another and I asked him if he could stay for the night. He went silent for a while, and then remarked,

“I will stay. For this night, and the night after this, and the one after and so on. I will stay as long as you want me to stay. I have only one condition, you tell about me to no one. You let me know, beforehand, if you are bringing anyone home. As long as we maintain our little secret, we can be together.”

I had been alone for a very long time. I acceded.

[scene: interrogation room]

“So. You do not know the name, any fucking thing about the person who lived with you for nearly six months. Is that right, Miss Rachel?”, asked Detective Gordon.
“Yes sir. That’s correct.”
“And are you aware that six murders happened since the night you met him and tonight?”
“Yes I am. It was in the papers, right! But they were all sex offenders. Aren’t you glad that someone is cleaning up the streets for you, detective?”
“NO!”, barked Detective Gordon, “Vigilantism is the last thing I want on my streets right now, however dark they are. Crime beds crime, and crime gives birth to crime. I took an oath to get rid of all the criminals the day I joined and the streets become safe again. And even if it takes taking out your boy toy, I will do that.”
“By the way, Miss Rachel, you seem to have missed out the part how exactly the two of you meet. You didn’t start off a conversation mid air on the street, did you?” remarked Gordon.
“He saved me from a goon who was advancing to take advantage of me.”
“Interesting. We did find a fellow unconscious in a pool of blood the night you are talking about and a steel pipe with no fingerprints on. Was your boy wearing gloves, or did he clear the evidence at the time too”, exclaimed Gordon, casually as he flipped through the pages of his file.
“What do you mean by clearing evidence at the time too”, cried Rachel. “He was an angel, he saved my life then and was a constant support. And now, because of you, he is gone. Far away. God knows when will I meet him!”
“Don’t worry. You will when we catch him.”, concluded Detective Gordon.

Mod (hindi)

12 Monday Dec 2011

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Aankhein abhi bhi nam hain,
Manzilein hain kareeb phir bhi thoda gam hai.

Khinchi hui hain lakeerein peshani ki,
Kho gayi hai kahin chah kucch paane ki.

Gum hai muskaan door kisi kone mein,
Zinda hai umeed kho ke khush hone mein.

Umang hai, ehsaas nahin,
Sarovar hai par pyaas nahin.
Shuruwaat hai, buniyaad nahin,
Kahaani ye kaisi antt jhalkaati nahin.

Nasha sharaab mein hota to naachti bottal.
Khushi sacchai mein hoti to jagmagaati hakeekat.

Naa raasta, naa manzil, naa chah, naa sacchai,
Chal chale hain kiss raah par,
Har mod pe toofan,
Har mod pe khaai.

Altered Realities

08 Thursday Dec 2011

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The boy was young. A face with no features, hidden tears and stolen smiles. Well versed in the art of getting by.

The boy was floating in a sea of answers with no obvious question. He knew the ways to go around a problem, arrive at the conclusion, but taking the final step, getting beyond the solution seemed jinxed.

There is a way particular to every life. There is an inherent subtlety to achieving greatness. And there is a method to madness.

He was mad. He was angry for so long he couldn’t remember when he was not. He wanted to vent it out, he believed he could. And he wished he did, for the fire within consumed the self, part by part, time by time. Looking for a savior, he was tired. He had to evolve, the self had to grow, the barriers needed to be broken, the distance remained to be traveled. Life as he knew it had to come to an end.

His heart was hindering his advances, he learnt to let it go. His visions were blinded by what could have been, he embraced the mistakes which were made. What might have been was a different story altogether, the truth was but a shadow of the real self.

Went into oblivion, he took a new self, a new name. The face remained, but with altered realities. That was the first step. The hidden pieces of the puzzle revealed as consequences of what could not be achieved.

He learnt to hide. For he knew to laugh when a smile seemed hard to come by. He stopped searching, for he realized his questions lay in the answers themselves. For every path chosen is a journey in itself. And the romance lies in the journey, the destination sans it, inconsequential.

nadaan parindey (ghar aa ja)

17 Thursday Nov 2011

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The title might be confusing, I do not generally take a line as blatantly, but couldn’t help myself this time. A.R. Rehman has delivered a gem with this, thank you.

chup gaya tha baadalon ke peeche,
ek parinda thaka hua.
chot lagi thi kahin usko,
khud se tha wo dara hua.

thak chuka tha apni udaan se,
ek chaanv ki talaash thi.
muskuraahat apni kho chuka tha,
uss manzil ki raah pe.

aaine mein dikhta chehra mukhauta tha,
peshaane ki lakeerein batlaati thi.
labhlabhaati aankhon ka sailaab,
akele mein jhalkaati thi.

nadaan tha jab usne mooh moda tha,
ghar se door nayi duniya se rukh joda tha.
udd gaya tha uss panchi se saath,
ruka tab khud se anjaan tha.

aaj na dil hai saath naa udaan,
naa hai ghar naa hi wo sheetal chaanv.
bhool jaa sab, ik baat maan ja,
naadan parinde, ghar aa jaa.

Goodbye

06 Sunday Nov 2011

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Meet me once before you leave,
Promises one may find hard to keep.
Don’t just smile and leave in a haste,
Our journey will be incomplete without that last embrace.

There have been time when we were apart,
Tender touches, the laughs did last.
Do I turn the page, or do I sit back and lament,
How to start afresh when the baggage is a little too laden.

Do not forget me when I am gone,
One only starts as a rookie and struggles on.
The destination looks fairly attractive,
But what about the romance of the journey that lingers long.

My epitaph will be bold and bright,
Enough to earn a spot in the wide black sky.
If the mention of my name sparks a smile in your mind,
I’d consider the purpose served, and that’ll be my goodbye.