Bloody Eukaryote

Me

2011-09-26T03:42:00.000+10:00

Me?

Is it who I long to be?

Is it who I don't set free?

Can I ever be,

Who I see, who holds the key, who is me?

Dance in me

2011-09-21T00:32:00.000+10:00

Pause a bit and let me grasp a hint of that smile. Let me paint those fingers on that delicate sky. Are you a colour or a mischief? Are you the dancing joy of those canaries in that smouldering puddle? How do you do that thing, hiding your face behind my shoulders? Those eyes, what are those really? Are those dancing gazelles? Are they silent glinting stars?

Did you just walk past me? Did you just dance past me? Did you just smile? Did you just brush your elbow on my back? Did you just paint me with your hair?

Who are you? What are you? Are you the salty touch of a ocean wave? Are you my inebriation? Are you my insanity? Who are you?

Am I with you? Am I without you? Am I a growing tide in the ocean that you have moved your eyebrows? Am I a gust of wind in the storm that you have unleashed with your eyes? Who am I? Where am I? Have you made me yet?

Come to me. Be that crescendo that makes me. Dance in my wilderness, dance in me.

You

2010-05-28T00:27:00.000+10:00

Listen
I wasn't in
But you could've knocked to see where I've been.

Hey
I wasn't sad
But you could've peeped to see if I was feeling bad.

Oi
I wasn't dead
But you could've called to check if I was out of bed.

Hello
It isn't November
But it would be really nice if you'd remember.

Je n'ai pas besoin de cette hypothèse

2010-05-15T00:57:00.001+10:00

Religions of this world piss me off at times. Generally, these are annoying bunch of superstitious beliefs, really. But when I see people otherwise progressive, all of sudden turning retrogressive due to their new-found or revived piety, it worries me. Nothing's wrong with a fantastic imagination, but leading your life on the basis of some medieval book of code doesn't seem sensible to me.

The main problem of religions lie within their inherent training of people to shun inquiries, inhibiting a free mind and encouragement of blind following. I know, some would come quoting their religious books trying to demonstrate some apparent encouragement of inquiry. Well, in those 'holy' books the approach is always, 'you are free to ask questions as long as you reach the conclusion that I've drawn for you; if you even dare to draw another conclusion, well, go to hell then, literally'. Bunch of crap really, if you ask me.

So many young minds have been corrupted with this training of blind, faith based following. Religions are faulty on their base for this alone, even before you go specific on the medieval crap the dwells in every 'divine' book.

I know stating the obvious against religions has become rather cliche. Plus, we are incessantly being told not to hurt the feelings of our religious friends. But, what about our feelings? Don't we have any right to get annoyed? Nobody seems to bother about the feelings of the irreligious lot.

Ode to Joy

2010-05-03T22:56:00.007+10:00

A lot has changed... in a good way, that is. This begs rejuvenation of this blog. I am hopeful that it would come about.

Now if I don't post that would be because I'm busy; NOT BECAUSE, I am lying there at the corner of the bed, thinking about every passing day bringing no joy, no progress, no aspiration while churning out minutes, hours, days to senility in a banal procrastination with vapid momentum of classic slow motion, yielding into bane memories of lost faculties sighing on a future that could be and what would be... phewww!

Sure enough, I am the same person. Just happier, busier and back on track :)

And yes, this post has been written with the intoxication of Ode to Joy.

Here, the exhilarating rendition by Mark Cruz:

The time of my life...

2009-12-31T01:51:00.005+11:00

I am restless. Restless like a river flowing in its mountainous run. But only back and forth, without going anywhere.

The thing is that I've got this long craved holidays that I so desired. And as it is passing by I am feeling like I am not doing it a justice. Soon enough it will be over and then a whole year of mental slavery would have to be endured before I meet this freedom again.

But now, I've already passed a whole week in utter laziness of doing nothing. Nothing means mainly doing stuffs that people do to pass the time when they are bored with it. But I am not bored. I don't want to PASS this time. This is THE time that I always crave for. This is not to be just passed. I want to cling on to it. This is to be savoured. This is a time to create, to flavour the insipid life that we usually endure.

Life isn't about anything really. It doesn't really have a purpose, contrary to the popular belief. It just is. Right there, out and about. But we, as each individual, have something somewhat unique that we want to carve our lives into; A feeling that makes us individuals. Each one different, some similar to the other but still different. For me, I don't know, I has been an incessant urge to create.

When I am given my own time, free as it is now, I'd (as I've been doing) at times 'waste' it by doing mundane self-entertaining activities; like watching movies, playing games, reading books. But does it really fulfil me? I guess not. To get the fulfilment, I need to make the movie, I need to write the book, I need to create photographs, I need to learn a language. That's what is me. That's what my existence is for; a purpose that I've created for myself.

Only then, this time of freedom, this fabled time of relentless existence, this glorious period of liberty, will be served for.

Now, who or what will rekindle my creative zeal, that's another story altogether.

There's one song and that is mine

2009-11-14T01:47:00.003+11:00

There's a song and that is mine
In every number with digit nine
Random, absurd, plentiful
Himalayan lofty ridicule.
A glass of flower, a vase of wine
There's this song and that is mine.

Who knows when I string a pain
Drop some rain in local drain
Gallop through whiny windy clouds
Put some grapes on cotton shrouds.
They won't know but that is fine
There's one song and that is mine.

Some smaller bits of uber fun
Nine assignments, not yet done
Tagore's ardor with Ghalib's sigh
Neruda's query to make me high
Some teen spirit and one feline
That's the song and that is mine.

Snore

2009-11-02T14:48:00.001+11:00

This blog ain't dead; pretty much alive. It just sleeps a lot :)

Drumroll

2009-10-14T23:08:00.002+11:00

Stencils and a few of aerosol cans
Rainbow colours and misdemeanor
All for an artist with rigour.

Some are artists, some are inspiration
Some are blind, some are hard to find
Some are dark metallic recreation.

50 years back or more
A poet wrote as we read
We listened, I waited.

A big or rather small headphone
In my head when I don't see
World is all blur yet
the poetry is sharp
Colours are bright,
Vivid is the insanity

A broken glass of wine
Went missing with a closed eye
Some chilli flakes on the eyeball
Garam masala tears
And killer is the sanity.

I You We He She They that are fingerprints

2009-09-01T21:46:00.011+10:00

I've known myself, lets say, for whole of my life. I am one of those few individuals that fit that category. Sigh! Such mundane banality that encircles us... However, yes, I too am a fingerprint: distinct, original, singular. There is not a single other creature, thing or existence that is me. I do what I do, the way I do. None other than me thinks like me, feels like me, functions like me. Nobody can ever be me. I am me, and solely I am myself. I am unique.

We all are fingerprints. We all are capable of putting our unique impressions on this collective existence that we sum up as life; synergy of lives that is this perceived collective existence. There's nothing beyond this perception. This perception is what is existence. This is the way we all are artists; each one distinctive. I am an artist, you are an artist, she is an artist, he is an artist, they all are artists. Question is, do I know that you are an artist? Do you know that you are an artist? Do you know that I am an artist?

Do I know that I am an artist?

A few creatures and a planet full of fingerprints

2009-09-01T11:56:00.005+10:00

Oh the monster called Morning! As much as I crave the sunshine, lately the mornings on weekdays have been nightmares in broad daylight. Every morning my body feels like that colossal monkey who refuses to give up his weight and move. Not that the monkey really exists but you get the picture. Just in case you don’t, it is more like King Kong having a bad day and refusing to budge. This monkey does exist, but only fictionally. So let’s say like a blue whale in a fatigued repose on the seabed. Again, not that the whales actually do that, but they do exist in reality… In any case, those creatures are just the parable for my body in the morning which goes with the willpower and strength of a sloth. In a nutshell, it is a horrendous feeling and I haven’t been hyperbolic here. There you go, I have ranted; and rightfully so!!!

Now here’s what I say today… we all are like fingerprints.

Eh, what? Nothing...

2009-08-23T23:18:00.006+10:00

As usual it's been a while... I came to this page again after a long time. It is almost like an unfamiliar feeling; more like being in a room with unknown smells; not strong, not pungent, not repulsive, not even noticeable; but just unfamiliar. Yet it doesn't bear the novelty of a beginning. Why would it? It isn't a beginning...

Few days back, I had decided that I won't be vague in my blog. It would rather be a straightforward 'fun' blog. Fun and funny isn't the same thing. I can have fun, but me being funny is a funny concept; even though some people do find me funny. But don't fret, you are not one of them...

Anyhow, I gotta start from somewhere. Hence, my vagueness ruled the first half and will keep on dominating for a while and may never rest. So hope, if that matters. Hopefully you would be hopeful enough to have your hope ending up being hopeless and still would be able to hopelessly hope. Ya, I rule in my brain... eh, what? Nothing...

Hapless

2009-05-17T03:21:00.004+10:00

Change of song
Guitar riff
Blank stare
The letters
Jumbled up together
In words
Loud... verbose
Belief.

A God's arrogance
Passed on to man
And me
Thoughts
Tired within myself
Blank Stare
Cogito
Ergo dumb
Nirvana
I think I'm dumb.

Arrogance
On the screen
Blank stare
On my part
I think I'm numb.

Make me a weather

2009-05-01T13:24:00.003+10:00

Make me a weather
With all you can gather

Heat
Scorch
Burn,
Chills at every turn

Moisture of dew
Shuttering winds anew
With its stormy harsh tether.

Be it feeble touch of rain
Or hails of frigid pain,
Maybe unexpected jolt
With spark of a bolt;
Let me feel rather.

Please, please and please
Please make me a weather!

Hard question

2009-04-29T23:19:00.003+10:00

16 minutes of battery left on my laptop. Is that enough?

A lady from Scotland...

2009-04-18T01:19:00.005+10:00

It is Susan Boyle who brings me here tonight. She has filled so many eyes with tears; she has put smiles on so many faces. Her's is a human story on stage. It is a tribute to life: uplifting, awe-inspiring, enlightening. The crescendo in her performance takes me to the pinnacle of my being.

Susan Boyle on the stage of Britain's Got Talent is like living a life in its entirety; and what a life that is!!!

A privilege.

Random, but I'm here!

2009-02-22T13:58:00.008+11:00

Once on a lazy Sunday morning a friend of mine ranted to me asking why everyone is expected to aspire to become rich, successful etc. why can't someone just decide to stay poor and be left with it; Quite a valid sociological inquiry, if you ask me. One might argue, this is easier for him to say as he never really was poor or anyway near it. His father owns a few factories to say the least. In his defense, he hasn't really lived an extravagant life; but that is more due to his persona, not for the lack of means. Anyhow, I digress into his reasons or lack of it but that is not my point here. I actually wanted to talk about his original comment.

So why aren't we allowed to embrace the sufferings in order to relieve ourselves from all the efforts that we need to put into living. You know what, I am not really interested into discussing that either right now.

I guess all I want to say is that sometimes one just needs to make a random comment like that. Those are more out of our random frustrations with life than with the aim to invoke a philosophical inquest. Just as sometimes one needs to shout in the train on (or off) a mobile phone. Or sometimes one feels compelled to yell at an ex partner at a random bus stop over some child care dispute.

And perhaps sometimes on a lazy Sunday morning, one just needs to cry.

US

2008-11-19T22:43:00.002+11:00

Goodness in human makes me feel like... err... human. It is still there, it has always been and it'll always be...

Apology

2008-08-22T21:19:00.006+10:00

I would like to apologize to the Cancer Council Daffodil Day crew at Flinders Street Station for inadvertently ignoring them while passing by. I was just preoccupied with my bemused thoughts, as always. I did want to buy a daffodil but it just didn't register in my mind that it was them before it was too late... like, I was home.

Go to sleep you fool

2008-08-17T23:56:00.003+10:00

With the clock ticking with a bias towards midnight, looking towards an early wake up routine task of weekday mornings, I feel a sudden urge to put something in here. It's been a while; so be it...

Come on. come on... sleep now; just to wake up again.

Things may seem odd

2008-07-31T22:24:00.001+10:00

The blog is going through major layout renovations... I feel restless.

Humanity needs a lesson from here...

2008-07-29T00:03:00.003+10:00

Emanation

2008-05-27T22:34:00.003+10:00

In a crescendo I live
Take I more than I give
Swift
Sharp
Abrupt
I stand here and forgive.

My tears are from heaven
Nectar of gods you believe
My elation is my being
I rock, I sing, I conceive.

Just to be me all over again

2008-03-16T03:10:00.006+11:00

Hey, here I am; no, not going anywhere. I still close my eyes and see all. I still feel the warmth in that tremulous old lady's feeble smile. I still am amazed at that curious laughter. I still wonder about giggety gig and dippety dip. I still take some mood swings towards the melancholy lane. It is still easy to annoy me with all little silly things. Anger still invades me with a moment's notice. Lethargy still overpowers me at all inopportune moments. Yes, all that there is, all that there was. Yes, I am still what I am, I am still what I was.

But I am trying to find a way to be reborn again. As me and nothing but me. Again to be what I am. Again to feel what I feel. Again to say what I say. Again to do what I do. Just looking for a way to reincarnate. All it needs is a moment. A moment of my beginning once all over again. An abrupt moment in eternity. A moment of thousand possibilities. Rather simply, it can start from a stranger's kiss...

I hope you had the time of your life

2007-12-22T05:49:00.000+11:00

So, here we are, staring at the end of another year. Celebrations all around... Nothing's like brushing off the past and move on. Plus, with the ever jubilant occasion of the birth of a prophet, what else do we need? Well, I'm still waiting for a daughter of God; but that's another story.

So another year has past, well almost. We grew, we loved, we loathed but most importantly, we lived. We sucked, we fucked, we ducked, we mucked, we chucked and yet we bucked. So friends, fellow humans and jungle birds, melt some chocolate in your mouth, take a gulp of the booze that's in your hand and sing in that inebriated voice of yours; be it in an unbearable harmony or in a blissful cacophony... For the lack of my own, I borrow the words of Green Day...

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.