to all the my critics- FUCK YOUUU!!

stay here here my love oor simply leave, dont cause any panic and dont make me grieve. for i scream out what i wanna say- so if u choose to stay here u might just have to pay!!! THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE DOLEFUL CITY THROUGH ME THE WAY TO ETERNAL GRIEF THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONGA RACE FORSAKEN........

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

a silent tribute...


We are already ex-students of Christ College now and since First Year of college many had left us to pursue studies elswhere or for other reasons. But the person whom I miss the most and who has left us forever is my dear friend Toto. He was probably one of those very few guys with whom I could discuss music, literature and art in-depth and at length without any qualms. I am grateful to him for having introduced me to underground Death metal and Black metal and of course 'Chemical Brothers'.

Today, me along with some of my classmates visited aunty (Toto's mum) and gave her something which was rightfully Toto's- his class sweatshirt. I am sure he would have had some comment to make on the design and how it could have been 'darker'. Its nearly two years now since he left us perplexed and in utter shock in a tragic accident. How can I forget those days in the food-court with him when he used to force me to share his awesome 'cheese-mustard sandwich'?

From 'quantum mechanics' to the philosophy of the 'ghettoes'- he was a great reader and a thinker. Sometimes I guess, such people just dont stay back for some reason. Anyway, here's to you my dear friend..... I miss you man and hope that you are somewhere where you can enjoy your music and your kicks. Love always.......... ANGIRAS TOTO VELLANI- Gone but never forgotten!

Saturday, February 25, 2006

......we were walking fields of gold.......


Dear Alma Mater(my mother),
Its not important if we have spent 3 years or 7 years in your womb. Its even even less important if we came here by choice or by chance...... Whats important is that if we were born today (25th of February,2006) sane enough and well developed. During our existence as humans we are born many times and seldom die.... but if we do die then thats an eternal state of purgation!We are born into this world from another, then we are born with perspectives sprouting within ourselves; we are born again too seek companionship and then we are born never to die again(as we were today).


This is probably the last time when we have played our final childish games of hide and seek on your lap- giggling and smirking under the shadow of your ever watchful eye. From now on its the game they call LIFE OF AN INDIVIDUAL. Till today we were searching for the REAL US. But now, within this short span of time we have to stand tall, ever sure of ourselves and never to fumble again. But if we do tumble and fall.... thats for the INDIVIDUAL to rise again as a phoenix.

In this ordeal of transformations, what do we call as our real self, where do we stand and call that place our own?? Its now.... its this place where we stand as the freshly moulded sculpture of flesh and blood but having the power to create and destroy everything around us. Bonds we have formed and some of them torn too.... but what we have never done is to ignore them. They have been preserved in our hearts in such a manner that every morning they are as fresh as wintry dew and as we embrace our second death..... its fresh still.

We were conceived into your being as nurtured hopes and dreams and now you have delivered us from our weaknessess, apprehensions, hesitations and fickleness. The pain you have taken to protect and nurture us all these years has seized to pain you any more, now that we step into this world and fight our own battles. The battle will be tortuous, treacherous and will every moment test our convictions, principles, desires and morals. But you have equipped us with insights and realisations strong enough to counter whatever weaknesses come our way. Should we fail, we will die an unrecognised death from which another being will never rise and the spirit of whom shall forever dwell in "Dante's hell".

We learnt and unlearnt how to love, hate, ignore and be ignored; all the while looking up in agony and maybe cursing a seemingly nascent God for our plight. But now that we look at Him straight in the eye, we know that the choicest of happiness and gloom seek to teach us how to make a meaning out of this mysterious existence of ours. We have existed and yielded among a sea of faces and beings and we have an unignorable bond even with those whom we have chosen to hate or ignore. How can we deny this when innumerable moments of our lives have been interwoven with everyone elses's and is thus frozen in time in a suspended and timeless world??

Hate is an emotion stronger than love..... thats what you taught us mama!! Thats the reason why we should use it very carefully and in degress which are measured so that we are not just left with the ashes of our past rather than its vibrant hues. But when we stop using hate, love makes room in our beings and gain power which can never be surpassed by hatred and ignorance. You have equipped us to do just this and now its upto us if we choose to die a suspended death or live forever...

No more shall we present the excuses of our being innocent as children or of being as clean as the fresh morning rays of the sun because we have developed into such complex beings that even we ourselves cannot fathom its ever-widening chasm. But what we can do is to retain the flame we held aloft all these years so that when we look down, the depth doesnt seem bottomless but just another depression worth of being explored.

Yes when I write this, I myself am perturbed and apprehensive about the hopes expressed herein, but well how shall we know unless we go forth and " drink life to the lees?" I have loved enough to last a life time and hated enough to live on it, but what I will never do is to forget how I have loved and hated. Why? So that, I learn to love more those, whom I have loved and to know how I could have loved those whom I have hated. Impossible as it may seem, thats where I believe the meaning of our being entities of sentiments is truly realised.

Mama!! I have loved you and now ever more than before as we part and go forth to find the 'cause' for which we live now. If we do find it, then you my mother, would be the core of it. You who has sculpted thousands like us evr so painfully and without questioning. I know that when we come back as individuals with goals(some fulfilled and some yet to be) you will be as happy as my old lady at home who counts every breeze and every tear drop waiting for my arrival with accolades and ambitions. I love you mother.... and how can I ever be grateful to you but only by being what you have always wanted us to be??

Heres to you my old lady!! Today I shall venture forth while your shadow lingers on behind me........


Tuesday, February 21, 2006

my discoveries in a strange state.......


People claim to be sane at the oddest of times and think that sometimes being eccentric is glorious indeed. But for me, being eccentric is something I mostly am or maybe too normal... you never know.Day to day before yesterday at around 1 pm I was bombarded with sudden,immensely powerful and disturbing realisations. They just started sprouting in my head like some alien genes in a sci-fi movie. They were so powerful that the whole night thoughts kept bombarding my head of which I could record only a few (owing to their torrential presence). They are disturbing to me, even now because I havn't been able to fathom the reason behind this sudden happening and well, they are quite confusing now but at that time they were like well-calculated solutions to life's greatest equations. I had felt as if I had found the answers to those innumerable questions which troubles mankind every minute some way or the other.

I will list them below and if I have the energy, I will try to explain them from my perspective but if I cant then I will do so in my next post. They are as under:-

1) In my own incompleteness I always see a complete picture. Thats what is great about incompleteness.

2) The people who least understand Rock trip on it.

3) Every stranger has a name.

4) Every life treads a trodden road and every man stands where some life has lived before.

5) There is no philosophy explaining the meaning of another.

6) Everything is predictable; even unpredictability.

7) For every rationale exists a counter-rationale.

8) Music is a medium of multi-staged catharsis.

9) No one has anything figured out.

10) Indian Rock bands are the next big thing.

11) Everyone visits death at birth.

12) There is nothing called life, its just a prank of semiotics.

13) To every wrong there is a right, and to every right there is a 'me'. Thats the reason of all strife.

14) Every realisation has a medium.

15) Everyone think about the same things but at different times.

16) There is no centre to a centre. There is nothing central to/about a centre.

17) Every debate leads to another.

18) Existential dynamism is highly repetitive and monotonous.

19) Everything fades into prominence and anything prominent fades away.

20) Death is not our final destiny as says the scriptures- life is.

21) Every man creates his own God.

As Shakespeare has written in The Merchant of Venice : "How I caught it or came by it I ma to learn......." Its the same thing with me..... why it happened or how is a mystery but for now I leave you to ponder over these things and wait for my subsequent posts where I will explain them.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

just a song.....


People are strange, when you're a stranger,
Faces look ugly when you're alone.
Women seen wicked when you,re unwanted,
Streets run you by when you are down.

When you're strange, faces come out of the rain
When you're strange, no one remembers your name,
When you're strange, when you,re strange, when you,re strange.

No. This is not one of my supposedly nihilistic and dark poem. Its a song by Jim Morrison which sort of sums me up very skilfully. When you are a stranger to everyone, the supposedly sane people seem strange to you. Its true although unbelieveable that when you are alone or lonely and in dire need of a helping hand, then a presence of another person irritates you beyond anything.

Well, this part is intruiguingly true although its not been realised by me in my life- completely yet! I am talking about when you are unwanted by people around you and whom you crave for, even a soothing touch of a woman(both aesthetic and physical) fails to liberate you of your dire straits(women can take the liberty of chnaging the word into men). You are not aware of yourself when you walk the busy streets and the people aong with the aspahalt road just runs you by like a blizzard.

When you are strange, opinions come out when you least need them let alone expect them and that too from someone who feels like your alter-ego. Faces comeout with sharp opinions and criticisms when you are already soogy wet with your own rain of problems.

When you are strange, no one bothers to remember you by, as you could not be one among the established flock and you lived your life differently on your own terms and conditions. For them you are a criminal worser than a deserter.

Its an irony that when you create a distinct identity and ground for yourself then you become strange, when you hum a different tune and do not crow like the crows you embody an unacceptable species altogether. When you are strenge, even strangers hurl and pelt stones at you thinking that you are some insane fucker growing like a cancer on the face of this society called WORLD.........When you're strange, when you're strange, when you're- straaaaannnggggee

Just an explanation of the song which I took liberty to put down. If it sounds autobiographical then I should be exempted from being under scrutiny as I did not mention that its me here.... hehehehehe!!!

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Rock my cradle



I have a dream. I have nurtured it since the time I entered college. It had been my soul entertainer during those innumerable lonely nights(still is). Sometimes over a bottle of rum or vodka, or sometimes a cigarette to go with it..... butI never fail to live my dream time and again everyday. It has been a cathartic dream rather, to express what I feel towards certain people and that too through all my might with a touch of gentleness. Everytime and everyday the same thing makes me cry with ecstasy and then due to the futility of it because its pseudo-real as its not happening the way it should.

Before I wander off into that dream world of mine I would like to set the records straight. Its one of the deepest secrets of my college life and something which has kept me essentially human (how much ever that is). The locations of the dream vary; sometimes in college, sometimes in Woodstock and sometimes even at a place with a million ant-like heads dancing like an untamed wave.

Its my dream to sing and perform music in front of a huge and quality audience. But mostly I don't know why, I have dreamt and created imaginary situations where none other than my classmates are the audience. I can see Bhomi, Dj, Anu, Sneha, Neethu, Danny jiving and clapping while I sing numbers like Hotel California, Two Steps Behind, Stairway to Heaven or even the whole Back in Black album(ac/dc). It gives me so much of pleasure, contentment and joy that its unparalelled by any experience- to the truest sense. I can see Anu acknowledging my jives along with the music and singing along with OOOOOHHHs and AAAAHHHs, Dhanya shouting,"Common maxie!!!", Dj just smiling his bunny rabbit smile and following the beat, Sneha just giving me a cheeky smile and Unni and Sid acting as backing vocals and guitar accompaniment. I always end up seeing Mr. Naresh Rao sitting on the last row with that polite and humbling smile on his face but nonetheless enjoying the whole faisco. It happens at the quadrangle and even the birds' park where our seniors had their wonderful farewell.

Me with the mic singing on our farewell.. aaaaah!!!! What can be more rewarding than that?? Nothing at all... nothing ever..... Well I never call these the figments of my imagination because that kinda puts my feelings and emotions down. But as usual this whole phenomenon has a string of pain attached to it.... and that is I will never do what I do everyday in actual life. I will never sing in front of those people whom I wanted to sing for and I will just nurse it as an unborn child of a dream. Why?? Simply because it wont happen and cannot happen. When I didnt do it in all these three years when I surely could then I just dont see any possibility now.

It just happens that way you know...... when I get home at around 10 or 11 pm..... I just sip my coke and put on my earphones and thats the beginning of my mad band's concert into ecstasy. When I seem to gather myself up again.... I look at my watch and its mostly 2:30 am in the morning. I sleep contented like a Jimmy Page or a Brian Johnson who has had his moments of satisfaction while making a crowd of thousands dance and jive insanely and thus it has continued since the first year of college.

I never could form a band which I always wanted to... maybe because there were better singers or maybe because I was lost in my own world and did not take any initiative... or maybe both. I do not know how to explain the feeling of joy and exchange of vibes when a singer sings to an audience or a band performs. So what if the audience is imaginary??? It still is an audience alright???!!! Thats the reason why during Darpan or In- Bloom i simply refuse to get up and go anywhere during the western acoustic and electric performances and sit right in front of the sound-wall. It makes me feel as if I am the one who's on stage with an audience in front of me witha mad guitarists and the drummer playing in-sync with me. I am sure that I can simply electrify the concert at that very moment.

Maybe my love for music is to blame or maybe my expression is in dire need of numerous vents and therefore such 'bizarre' happenings. Well whatever is the case I would plead the readers to laugh to themselves how much ever they want as this whole thing might sound funny and even insane. But to me it is one of the deepest desires I have ever nursed and lived again and again and I would really appreciate if 'a drem' is respected.

So next time you wanna catch us live in Christ or in Ozzfest or even in Woodstock, just buy a ticket from Lucifer, sign in blood and be a part of the Metalloid's Army (Metalloid is my imaginary band)!!! You will surely meet the like of Harris, Bon Scott and Jimi Hendrix and Me too.................. So all you people out their say ,"Haiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!! Rock n rolllllllllllllllllllllll...................

Monday, February 13, 2006

"A Nothing about Debt"


Ok this is a sinful confession to make but I will go ahead and do it! I am awfully broke this month(by 13th?? phewwww!!!?!) and moreso because I am saving up 1000 bucks to pay my fine towards my attendance shortage....... Some life eh?? I am feeling pretty guilty about it (as ususal but more painfully now) because I had got 9 thousand rupees this month towards my expenses and justly but sadly had to pay off my debts to my ever helpful pal along with an array of shopkeepers whom I pay at the end of the month. So now apart from my house rent and the thousand bucks I have nothing left but a mere 200 rupees in my kitty. Its a vicious circle and its getting worse every month now... debt in one month, repayed next month and due to which debt in the same month and the ordeal continues.........

Sometimes I question myself (as if I am God!!) about the origin of the practice and concept of the word 'Debt' and the coinage of the term 'Intebted' and its various variations. This vice has been an integral part of my college life. My father- most blameless is he for having sent me the 'required' sum every month and i personally believe that the amount is fairly enough. Then where does this ever widening and pitless gyre called "extra need" lie? I havn't been able to figure that out although I have an incling that the abrupt and forceful spendthriftness on food is the root cause and the peaking bills at the cyber cafe!

Etymologically speaking, the word "debt" has been derived from Latin and the Merriam-Webster Dictionary says thus:- c.1290. from Old French. dete. Lat. debitam. "to owe", "keep something away from someone"! Sheeeshhhh!! Then again the lexicon had adviced to look up the meaning and etymology of the word "habit" (ironic or sarcastic?) and it read thus:- c.1225. from Old French. habit. from Latin. habitus. "condition, appearance, dress, demeanour". originally past participle of habere. "to have, to keep, to hold". base sense is 'to hold' which is either in offering or taking. Punishing man!!!!

So whenever a friend gives another a debt of honour, the debtor is actually holding the tangible article or even keeping it away from the rightful owner. English language is really very punishing sometimes, changing the the feeling of a friendly gesture to one of inferiority and even conviction. We among friends and loved ones put sooo many things in debt- feelings, promises, moist secrets, fun-times and even love(tumhara pyaar mere paas rahenga...phikr mat karo!!! boo hooo) but in actual sense of the word its a sort of ethical crime as the person in debt has actually robbed off the giver of something precious or even indispensible.

Feminists would definitely say that its a highly patriarchal word (debt) having its roots in the male concept of domination(refer to the lexicon explanations)n and snatching away something rightful from a seemingly 'weaker' counterpart (women). Even they might go to the extent of saying that it dates back to those days when infant males were taken away from mothers by the rulers men for training them in the arts of war. Likewise Sasuure would have explained the term in the light of semiotics and Derrida, Lyotard et al would have denounced it as a grand narrative.

When an authority in the language (read Merriam-Webster) relates the word to 'habit' then i suppose there is a lot of stigma attached to the concept. There can be two types:
a) The first one being debt as a perpetual habit of finding means to please ones habit of spendthrifness or other excesses
b) The second one is a more radical one saying that it possibly means owing to Darwins theory of Survival of the fittest, it can be described as an attempt to drain a person of his/for essential resources in order to sustain ones own life in its various connotations!! Morbid, utterly baseless.....


Well ok, I am sorry for having writen so much about nothing at all but just think, where would we be had it not been for the timely borrowings to save our existence in this world which runs like a locomotive driven by materialism? A mother giving away her child to a childless couple or a friend saving the life of another friends daughter or to speak in my terms where BJs contribution pulls me out of trying times, all these are forms of debt in some sense. So is English language baseless and worthy of the blame of fragmentising and frugalising feelings, emotions and life?? My loyalty says no but my being screams,"Maybe.... you bloody idiot- beings of a colonised culture!!" Its an irony that I am writing this in the very same language am sort of decapitating. Here I would take the help of Syed Amanuddin and Mahesh Dattani. The former says" I am a poet. For forty centuries I have lived under various names, I am now Amanuddin", and the latter saying, "Thats what I do." i.e. writing in English.

Well God, if you exist, why do we have to communicate in scripts or words and why isn't there any higher level of communication?!! Bah!! Some weird and foolish dream..........


Sunday, February 12, 2006

What poetry is to me....


To me poetry is all that which cannot be expressed in simple words or even when I do not want to express anything but within myself. It is what gives me my identity and moulds it to accomodate different levels of understanding, realisation and thought. It is what I want to be and it is what I am; notwithstanding opinions. Poetry for me is a "spontaneous overflow of emotions" as Wordsworth has said but not when recollected in tranquility. It pervades all situations and scenarios. I keep making and breaking verses and rhymes in my mind even when I am in the ficklest of situtions. Anything and everything can be written about and its just a matter of interest in me which makes me write about certain things.

I had started wrting when I was 16, but I had the notion that they were not worthy enough to be preserved and thus had burnt a huge stack of them in my hostel loo with tears in my eyes. I feel that poetry to a poet is like a child to his parents. You see them grow, you nurtutre them, give them form, condition them to your flow of thought and it ends up sharing you identity. Thus, when i burnt them, I had felt like a juvenile and helpless father killing his children for a greater purpose and I am a criminal till date for that crime. Although now I have written quite a number of them but still, my present somehow ceases to act as a balm for my past follies. This was what prompted me to write the poem called,"When it comes to me."

The first poem I had written in Bangalore is called "The land of the morning star", and since then I have been writing more or less in a consistent maner. Sometimes people ask me if I would publish them, and i say that I would but when the time is ripe. Different poetries of mine have different backgrounds to them, the only common feature would be negativism, spiritualism, dark humor and the helplessness of man. I am really indebted to life for having brought forth so many different experiences with different hues and tinges that makes me a part of this noble cause and gives me a rare identity.

I am also thankful to those few people who had read my poetry and who always had an opinion about them (good or bad). There lies a poets' success and failure as well. Success because your poetry never fails to draw opinions and failure because a poet cannot possibly work on all the opinions and imbibe them in his work. Thats simply not possible. Whenever I feel pain, or abandonment or even hatred, it makes me write and write till theres no tommorrow. Its like a self-consuming fever or an orgasm which make thoughts and ideas torrential enough to be put into words and verses. When at last I finish writing one, I slump down like a passionate and satiated lover yielding in ecstasy.

All this might sound a bit high-handed or even false...... but yes, thats what poetry does to me and thats why it has been my only lasting relationship. There are times when I write poems which seem highly revolting and 'nihilistic' to others but I just have to say that poetry is what a poet makes of it while writing and a reader after that. Its not necessary for the reader and the poet to compliment each other but what is necessary is the flow of though and a subtle exchange of it between them. I am often self-contradicting in my thoughts and thats because I am still striving to attain a balance between different schools of thought and to understand them which evidently is an impossible task to accomplish.

There are times when the softest and purest of emotions and institutions are depicted in my poetry in an utterly dark and pessimistic light. The excat notion behind it is a bit complex. Lets take the example of God in any form or means, I have mostly written against Him or have highlighted the falsity or his non-existent nature. It was not a conscious effort to spurn or hurt sentiments but simply to put forward my the then perspective on the issue. I agree that they change from time to time and that is where the potential of poetry or rather any form of art lies. Contradiction and counter-contradiction brings about such an image which includes both but does not compliment each other. Thus, i seek to achieve a balance but withought compromising the thrust of these.

I am influenced by the smallest and the most 'insignificant' of things and remain unperturbed sometimes when larger things conspire. That is undeniably present in my poetry and one can say that I write about trifles when the world is rotating faster than ever before. This opinion is completely baseless because a seemingly small issue sometimes deserve greater attention and has greater potential of influence and the bigger events sometimes have their solutions rooted in the smaller ones or are blown out of proportions.

There are poets who are different in their dealings with the society as compared to their poetry but I have chosen not to do so. I believe that poetry should express ones genuine thoughts and emotions and should not be a whore to those few who bask in the crowning glory of being pseudo-intellectuals. I do not dare to call myself an intellectual, because being an intellectual has its immense responsibilities to the greater cause of human existence which I am unable to bear till date but nonetheless am trying. Thus, when poets write poetry hoping to clinch a crown studded with appreciations or brandings, the sole purpose of poetry is lost and the poet is DEAD!
Poetry itself is the key to the realisation of ones innate qualities and the corresponding possibilities and when it is not respected, it causes more harm than one can imagine.

I have put my poetries for everyones perusal not for the reason that I want fame and compliments but rather to fish for some new ideas in the pool of comments made. Thus , poetry to me is not an emancipated profession but a noble discipline which has to be respected and to be used with genuineness and selflessness. If criticisms or compliments come as a consequence then bask in them and never feel that you have wronged because if you regard poetry as sacred then it will compliment you in the same manner. By this I mean to say that like or dislike for your poetry is desirable and commendable but when you put forward a work which has hidden notions of attracting opinions(selfish) then its better that you do not write poetry at all.

Poetry pervades every inch of the human fabric, collectively and otherwise and therefore should be derived from every quarter of human thoughts and notions-'sinful' or not! Therefore, although this piece is small enough to express the importance of poetry in my life as a human, I am sure that I have cleared some doubts and raised a lot more regarding the same. My subsequent posts will deal with the same as I myself have certain doubts in certain quarters which is evident.

drink from a sinner!!


ok so i am here too..... well this is my second blog and i am kinda relieved! thats coz i hav dedicated http://forsaken-gods.livejournal.com solely to my poetry and therefore i thought that it will be a nice idea to have another blog where i can say whatever i want to without being a poet and using poetic connotations..... today is a very eventful one coz there is already some upheaval happening. i just came across an interesting comment by an anonymous reader at my poetry blog which read thus:-"
FORGIVE ME FATHER FOR I HAVE SINNED... IT WAS TERRIBLE! MAX I DUNNO WER UR COMIN UP WITH THESE STUFF BUT IT IS KILDA CREEPY!! UVE NOT YET STARTED THE JOURNEY OF LIFE AND ALREADY SO MUCH CONTEMPT AND LOSS OF FAITH IS NOT HEALTHY MACHAN!!! LET THE PAST GO FOR THER IS A GLORIOUS FUTURE AHEAD." hahahahahahaha.... i was so amused at this that i have actually led someone into sin by my writing.... well what can be a better compliment than this coz i believe that anything negative holds more power and thrash than the positive (kinda morbid eh??). i replied to this saying:-"wel... i dont have any strife with the glorious future and rather i am eager to embrace it.. but as far as my writing goes.. it will never take a turn which i feel is against what i feel about issues. i simply dont abstain myself from evaluating issues and writing it the way i want to.... but its kinda creepy according to u and hey i reall really am thankful coz i take it as a compliment.....it really has gven me a theme again to write on.... and well i donot boast of having lived my life already but yeah if u live ur life in seconds i live them by the grains of sand."

i dunno whether that person will read but i kinda like the comment and also despise it...... but i cant deny the fact that its anonymous nature intruiges me. it has become increasingly clear to me that certain people DO NOT understand what u wanna tell them through poetry and therefore u have to descend onto the podium and blurt out CLEARLY what u think and therefore this blog of mine!!at this juncture i choose to make one thing clear that love my blog...... hate it, stay here if u like or else FUCK OFF!! and to all my critics:- fUCK yOuOuoUouOuOUou!!!!!