Tuesday 11 February 2014

Our Little Infinity

As the rhythm echoes in our tiny space

Your fingers reach out for my face

My feet hang in mid air

While I lay on you and stare

Into your soul, tender and pure

Obscurity cowed by the lightning cure

Torn between a ridging togetherness

Devoured by a cosmic semblance

Floating like a simmering dream

Above. Below. Beyond. And in between.


Sunday 24 November 2013

Another Afternoon


A voice she loves
Reverberates
In a place she lives
Alone
With million musings
Confused
About the tidings
Impending
Departure of light
Steadily
Casting shadows over
Reflections
Of a woman lost
Under
A reminiscent song


Tuesday 16 October 2012


From Outside.

Bless thee not, Oh earthlings.
Know not the time thy liveth in.

Thy buildings so tall and close,
like a block, hath denied access to stars.

Thy rage for money and power,
the abuse of substance, bestrides thy threshold of real.

Thou behind thy stone age minds,
dwell in the past, Modernity, a disguise well worn.

Thou insignificant pawns of societal labyrinth,
Nature, thou calleth mother. A superior hoax.

Breathe not this air, turn to me.
Cause I belong not to this world.

Thy sun, my flower
Guarded by tentacled hands. A figment of me.

Open thou eyes to reality, 
Power lies at places unseen, unravel and unfurl.

So burn my wings, oh earthlings.
Make me one of thee, be saved.

Wednesday 5 September 2012

Little

Through the hands like lose sand
Slithered a thread so slender
It left a trail of oozing blood.
And a memory short lived, to remember.


Then I soothed it with the gentlest touch
And wrapped it with a ribbon
It healed as fast as fleeting sand
But left a scar, too tender.

Thursday 19 July 2012

Temptation

The direction of happiness leads to evil,
Befalling on me illusions of misdeeds.
A cactus can grow flowers too

When in the roots lies misfortune,
Only forbidden fruits grow on trees.
Temptation is hard to defy

Caught up in the sight of perception,
Tormented by measuring tapes of mankind.
Every step calculated, every step compiled

Covered ears with speech that you own,
Redressing voices which should be known.
A halo is hard to form

A frog breathes life into a dying ground,
Taking you in the head and your hand in its own.
The forbidden fruit eaten forbids the frog, and,
Kills the princess

Saturday 14 April 2012

Save Water


AD for Bingo Chips.


Choose to save life.

The delicate topic of abortion remains unspoken about, as it talks about the choice of a woman against that of a defenseless being. Its a monstrosity and should be stopped. Be educated. Stay away from ever being faced with a choice you do not want to make.The following video is an attempt to make an ad on the subject.  



Its all the same.

Caged by the manipulation of diamond seeking devils
With a tongue of sweetened poison and rainbow tears of deception
Sucking knowledge piece by piece from the mosaic of my burning life
Guarded by the eyes of my sleepy mind.

The pixels of my desire form a beauty spinning a web
To strangle the dove which I so patiently raised
Beliefs are shot down by skeletons in armor
Leaning on shrines made by religious bombers.

The golden shark attacks the city of mirth
Extracting ecstasy off men ruled by the tetris of birth
The bigger players hide in bottles designed for their game
Pumping the weak up the hose of destruction like a snake.

The dream is changing as I face a golden dragon
Protecting the gates of a lost serene garden
The path of which will be found after finding a magic lamp lost in space
The probability of which is more than finding peace in the world of today.

The button of reality will open my eyes.
Alas! To the same place.

Day

The leaves played stencil for the rays
As shadows danced on the ground
Forming patches of various contrasts
Shuffling at the touch of the wind.
The trees are deep in conversation
While the birds chirp in no unison
Creating a throng that can save a dying soul.
The soft murmur of the world
Had me too drowned to notice a serpent slithering
Lurking in the dancing colours of the day
Poisonous or not, only a bite will tell.
I don't even want to know.

It's quiet, it's beautiful and exceedingly calm
Even in the atrocious din of a busy city
Peace can be found in nature's heart
Far from the hustle of the main road
On the stairs of an empty home.

A creepy man walks silently to and fro; to and fro
It makes me uncomfortable how he stands and stares
As I decide to stand and leave
The spring cries a thousand tears.

Clutches

While the mechanical roots of the world seep deeper
Into the system of nature's creation, rising up
Taking over the eyes to see the motorized civilization
Battling with the brain until it succumbs to logic
As emotion had long lost its war.

The child was smothered in the minds of men
Even before it was conceived in the womb of life
Drained of any energy that could achieve peace someday
Swallowed by knowledge used by corrupted imbeciles
High on the drug of pride.

Where the loyalty of dogs' cannot be trusted
In a world transcended by rotting fungus
Selling illusions of prosperity to the brains
That crave for dreams to satisfy their hunger
For the paradise is forever lost.

We live in a world where the space of thoughts is priced
Where a molded mind is everyone's birthright
Where even birds know no sky
A world between the clutches of mankind
Existence being the synonym of life.

Tuesday 6 March 2012

Only if our actions were meant to please others,
We would not be living our lives, but theirs.

Friday 17 February 2012

The Actor.

The sunlight played its part
When the wind blew the curtain
And threw light on the lie
Sitting pretty on the high chair
Of immorality and distrust
Smiling with a halo shining red
Disguised in the semblance of an angel
With a frippery soul for existence
Which knows no heart or its viand
Living in a world balanced on a pin
Playing an execrable role innocently
With the prowess of an actor on stage,
Like the rest of us.
In the same plot with different scripts.

Tuesday 7 February 2012

Momentarily.

My stomach, for now, has the attention of my fickle mind,
The weight of material wealth amuses gravity like clouds on a starry night.
A train of thought gets tangled in the web of transcending rhyme.
Where will it go next? A step forward or one back in time?

Sunday 5 February 2012

Tuesday 24 January 2012

Bang Bang

One night I couldn’t sleep and it was 5 o’ clock in the morning. I had done my regular holiday routine. Had dinner, watched television with family, caught up with friends, watched a movie, read a book and off to dreamland but sleep never came neither did dreams. I was restless. Tossed and turned. Did a few calculations for nothing in particular and thought a lot about what to do next.

I was in the middle of contemplating a movie which I could shoot and edit myself when I heard my parents’ room door open and shut with a bang. Someone was in a rush otherwise who would let the door bang so loudly so early in the morning. Should I be worried? I thought to myself and before I could answer that question. Bang! Bang! Gunshots??!! The first of my life, of my real life. On screen they sound so different, so harmless, but this was something else. So close. So loud. So frightening. Who could have fired a gun in my house? Then I realized, my parents’ room door hadn’t opened from the inside but someone had gone in leaving the door to bang shut with two bangs ten seconds later. Could it be? I let that thought die as I had to act fast. I locked the door, turned off the lights, curled into a ball and hid in the cupboard. I was shivering unable to comprehend what just happened. What could have possibly gone wrong? We had no enemies. Didn’t owe money to anyone. Weren’t in any political hassle. We were good people. Then why? Who was in my house? Who possibly… I didn’t want to admit this but it was possible. Someone had shot my parents and I was hiding in the cupboard. It was all so wrong. There was too much anger, fear and hurt for a small cupboard. I had to do something. How could I hide when someone had shot my parents in their sleep. Couldn’t sit there like a frightened cat. I got out. Climbed the bed rest and opened the ventilator. I always thought that the person who designed my room was really stupid to put the ventilator so close to the ground but today I thanked him. I climbed up and jumped out to the garden and lay flat on the ground.

As I lay there I scanned the perimeter and saw a strange car parked in front of the gate and a familiar silhouette waiting inside. Who was that? No time to think, had to act. But what next? Do I wake up the neighbors or call the cops? At 5 a.m. Indian cops?? No time to joke, I told myself. Had to do it myself plus I wanted to kill whoever was responsible for robbing me off my parents. What were the killers still doing inside? Whatever it is that they were upto I was not going to let them go free. I slithered towards the car like a snake and peeped from the back window.

I wanted to kill goodness when I saw what I saw or rather who I saw in that car. Our old servant  Shyam sitting there probably drunk cause the car reeked of alcohol. I couldn’t believe a person who worked for us for 35 years. Someone who helped raise my father, my brother and me sat there waiting for my parents’ killer. Why did he bring this upon us? Was it because he had to be thrown out for stealing for his cheap drinks. He stayed in our house. Ate our food. Watched television with us and then stole from our pockets ‘cause he needed more alcohol and now he had my parents killed. I was boiling with rage and in that rage I picked up a small rock, opened the back door and Shyam turned around.  He didn’t get time to react as I hit him with the rock with all my might, with all my fury, with all my hatred and with all my sadness for my loss. I hit him countless number of times and screamed my lungs out as I did so. People started coming out of their houses. Shyam lay like a stone as I was pulled out of the car by some neighbor. I felt nauseous but I was uncontrollable. I tried with all my strength to free myself and hit Shyam one last time. “There’s someone in the house with a gun. Someone shot Ma and Pa.”, I screamed. “Someone shot Ma and Pa! Ma and Pa!” my scream got muffled in the chaos. I was passing out, exhausted, shocked. I had probably killed someone. “Someone shot…Ma…..Pa… shot...” were my last words before I lost consciousness.

I woke up in my bed, alarmed I rushed to my mom n dad’s room. No one was there. I ran towards the dining room with my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes. I reached there to find my grandparents and parents sitting there and merrily enjoying their breakfast. “You’re up early! Did you sleep early?” exclaimed my mother. Well I passed out in reality for the first time that day. So much for romance on a sleepless night.

Wednesday 28 December 2011

Tunnels of life.


There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Do you actually believe in it? Do you step into the tunnel believing that there is a brighter side? Do you step in thinking that it’s the end or there will be a beginning? Do you step in believing in the positive but it fades as you go deeper? As we keep moving in, the darkness overpowers the light and our fears over-shadow our faith. The darkness engulfs us and our shadow is no more ours.  Do you then give up and retreat or sit right there defeated by uncertainty and fear? Or you let your faith guide you not letting it disappear like smoke in air. Do you set fears at the base of the anchor of your boat and let it sink in the ocean of uncertainty or do you take a leap of faith? Can you still see the light at the end of the tunnel?

Another year comes to pass. End to a chapter. Beginning of a new page in the book of life, as we exit the tunnel of yesterday and embrace the light of tomorrow.  Everyone has come a long way since the beginning. Facing various challenges, defeating several demons, helping different lives, giving meaning to new faces and burying unnecessary burdens. We have made it through and it is that time of the year to reminiscence. To forgive and to forget. To accept and to let go. To finish and to start. To believe and to love. Tear the pages which tell tales of despair. Tear pages of distrust and hate. Burn the sheets which remind you of bad times and keep the ones which will forever bring a smile. As you see the light approaching, don’t rush. Walk slowly, turn back and see what you have overcome. Be proud of what got you here as it’ll never come back. Embrace the light with open arms. Bask in all its glory cause you’ve left the darkness behind. You’re out of the tunnel of yesterday and a bright today welcomes you with a gleaming sunrise overlooking an exquisite panorama of promising tomorrows. 
Happy New Year!!

Sunday 13 November 2011

Does everyone believe?

Till when will we believe
In the truth of reality
The work of destiny
The improbability of impossibilities.
Till when will we believe?

Thursday 10 November 2011

Setting sun.

           Often we find ourselves chasing the wrong things; wrong friends, wrong parties, wrong dresses or even wrong words. We are always looking for something that will please us or calm us or give us that feeling of satisfaction and when we get it, it feels.. well obviously wrong or we might enjoy it for a while but as time passes we realize this is not it. This is not where we want to be or this is not who we want to be with. This is not what we thought it would feel like, then we turn around to the right things but see them fading away with the sun, darkness creeping in with all its might.

           Try running but we never get there in time to save ourselves from all the mistakes. As cliched it maybe but it gets late to set things right. The chance that we had, we blew it and all we're left with, is remorse but then there is always a silver lining and somehow its never too late to do the right thing. 

           To look at the bright side, now we know how different wrong looks from right. How different wrong feels from right. So next time you see right staring right at you, go grab it and smother it like its all yours, was always meant to be and there will be no regret. You will turn back and see a bright sun setting with all its glory and even if it rains, you will still see a rainbow.

Wednesday 14 September 2011

Fear

Darkness is frightening
In the lonely hours of the night
The moonlight plays hide and seek
The clouds quietly weep.

Rain tries entering
Through the slits and cracks
Shadows creep in slowly
The wind moves the fan.

The window shuts with a bang
And there is a long silence
Thunder chills every bone
And lightning holds the balance.

The sound of life is distant
And pleasing to the lonely ears
Who only wish for a whisper
Or a quiet knock on the door.

The wind chime plays a song
Of the beauty of neverland
In the darkness of the moment
Fantasy has no upperhand.

Reality is in the howl of dogs
The sound of wind between the trees
Reality is you're not in a dream
Your voice is muffled in a silent scream.

No one can hear you
Apart from the lizard living free of cost
Or the mosquito who makes his own music
Paying no attention to your thoughts.

Your thoughts they battle
Win, lose or inter twine
Cause at this hour of the day
Its difficult to see in your own mind.

While you count your breath
And wait for sleep to come
You hear footsteps
It over shadows the humdrum.

There is a whisper in your ear
And you feel at peace
But the darkness is still frightening
Even when there's another heart-beat.

Tuesday 28 June 2011

And...?

In a world of war and tyranny, what will you choose:
 Freedom or Peace?

Wednesday 1 June 2011

Make me an Ad.

No idea about video editing.
No idea about movie making.
No devices to do the job.
But I had 2 make an ad.
This is my ad campaign for nike

I Run for Me.

How close are we to God?
How close to what's within us?

Tuesday 31 May 2011

Painting in the sky.


Talent - A Mortal.


The walls were finally closing in and there was no escape. She tried everything to make a run for it but the walls of her mind collapsed and the beautiful child died.
Standing in the midst of a thousand people this girl felt lost but it was only the beginning. She knew she’d find herself sooner or later. Carrying on with the normal everyday life she found herself in writing. A born storyteller she’d concoct different tales about people, places, lives, of ups and downs, the miracles and tragedies, of sorrow and joy, of hope, of love and she knew she truly existed. Words just seemed to flow from her pen and fill pages and pages of fiction effortlessly.
Everyone loved reading her as they liked to get lost in the stories she built but every time in the everyone there has to be an exception or two and so was in this case, the critic. For a writer a critic is very important. The feedback is a stepping stone towards better writing but what happens when the stones become boulders and form a mountain and you’re stuck behind it? She knew she was good but the constant criticism on everything she wrote got on her nerves in the beginning and then started to break her down. She wrote and wrote and the critic found flaws and disgraced her every piece for reasons unknown. When the critic wasn’t there to criticize she could hear him while writing, disgracing every mark from her pen. She’d even dream about him laughing at her in front of a large crowd while she stood alone with her head bowed down in prayer for mercy. She couldn’t comprehend the situation and started to believe that she wasn’t good enough.
The girl wasn’t just a girl; her heart was that of a beautiful child. Tender and innocent. Such harsh realities pierced it with cruel intentions and made it bleed a thousand times. The child felt unworthy. The girl was lost again. She wrote and wrote but this time there was no tale to tell just words of help and cry for inner solitude filled the pages and no one liked reading it. Too much for a girl with a sacred heart, she sat in her room trying to console herself and keep the flame of faith burning but she’d seen and heard too much and nothing seemed to help. She cried herself to sleep and woke up in misery. Tried to paint the world again with her words but black ink spilled all over the floor and she knew there was no going back.
She tried to keep her mind open to new possibilities but the candle of hope was burning no more and darkness took over control. The walls kept closing in while she tried to push them away. The battle was lost and she lifted her hands in surrender.  The walls collapsed, killing the mind of the girl with a child inside.

Product Photography..



First attempt at product photography and ad making.. me likey!!!