13 minutes.

It's so crowded here tonight.
The music is so loud.
It's pitch dark. 
The faint glow of the neons falls upon laughing, singing faces.
You're laughing.
I'm singing.
Song changes.
Everybody refills drinks.
Someone asks around for a light.
She calls out to the waiter for another 90ml.
The song progresses.
Everyone catches up and sings aloud.
"I don't mind spending everyday, out on your corner.."
You look at me.
I look away.
You should've known better.
You move towards me.
I make an excuse to her and move away.
"I'm feeling suffocated, I'll be back in two."
I'm drowning, don't think I'll be back soon.
Towards the door.
Push it open.
Step outside.
Resurface.
Take a deep breath.
Cold night breeze hits my face.
The tears sting.
Wipe them away.
It's cold.
And dark.
I can hear everybody singing along inside.
Happy.
There is no one outside here.
Only me and my cigarette.
As I light it, I look up.
You're standing there.
I'm cornered.
My senses heighten.
But I don't move.
I look down.
Pretend like it doesn't bother me.
I knew you'd follow me out.
It was just a matter of time.
I sit down, against the wall.
You sit there.
Breathing slowly.
Its cold.
We both fix our gaze on a distant light.
Its flickering.
Yet intense.
Its far.
Yet seems so near.
You begin by talking about a friend.
I stay quiet.
About papers.
I take a feel-good drag.
I stay quiet.
About a movie.
Another drag.
I stay quiet.
About a football match.
I stay quiet.
You stay quiet.
A deep drag.
I ask.
"Why are you doing this?"
Silence.
You look at me.
This time, I look at you.
Behind these eyes, I hide.
I hide from you.
Then you get that look on your face.
I've seen this face, once before.
Don't think I can do this again.
We had hurt each other with the things we wanted to say.
But never did.
I start to cry.
You know the truth.
I do too.
It's just a matter of time.
It's just a matter of failed goodbyes.
But this time, tonight, it is.
So we sit here, in our secret place.
The sound of the crowd so far away.
I close my eyes.
As the light flickers. 
And dies out.
The secrets will remain forever.
13 minutes.
Goodbye, my best friend.

Shotgun Opera Lock and Load.

The sun is beating, through towers and trees.
The air is filled with dust, kicked up by a thousand feet.
Marching through streets and breaking down gates.
We're dust, blood, sweat, tears and raw crippling hate.
The echoes of our silence, only the hearts pounding and boiling blood.
You can sense us coming from all directions, like fire, rain, storm and flood.
Only leaving defiance and affliction in our wake.
We've been hungry and cold, Giving all while you take.
But now we're too fast, too strong, too free to stop.
Itching in the brain, Rising to the top.
Unparalled rage; Fists, rocks and even words used to Break.
Are you tense and scared? Can you feel the ground shake?
It ends in only, but one way.
We will rebel hard, We won't fade away.
The roofs will collapse, and People will scream.
We're taking back whats ours, We're daring to dream.
I predict a riot, I predict a fight for peace.
We will let you down, We will bring you to your knees.

Twenty Five.

1. I have a strange aching desire to give up everything in life, money, family, everything. Move to a far off place, where I can sit and sort through my thoughts. And scale cliffs overlooking clean sparkly blue waters. Experience even more. Test myself against the most basic and bare human conditions.

2. I love taking black and white pictures.

3. "Shiny happy fits of rage".

4. Its easier for me to forget, than forgive.

5. I have horribly crippling OCDs. One OCD is to hide that I have OCDs.

6. Incorrect grammar puts me off. Bad.

7. Music is a drug. Need a fix every five minutes. Just like Haagen Das.

8. Yellow is a colour. And a song. ( = ] )

9. Smoking on my hostels sky-walk. Cool breeze. Silver moon. "Coming back to life".

10. Playlists with funky names are fun.

11. Art.

12. Detergent smells yummy. So do clothes fresh out of the dryer. They smell fan-fucking-tastic.

13. You have the right to remain silent.

14. We're all freaks. (For Nutella.)

15. "Ajeeb dastaan hai yeh. Kahaan shuru, kahaan khatam. Yeh manzile hai kaunsi. Nah woh samajh sake, na hum."

16. Spicy soap smells are turning on.

17. Placing people in "Top Friends" is not only sick and disgusting, but also rude.

18. Crocs are stupid.

19. Chocolate pancakes at Curlies.

20. Customising objects and articles of daily use is fun. And sometimes a terribly heart-breaking cliche.

21. Alcohol is good for health.

22. Choose Hash.

23. Posters are addictive. And there are never too many.

24. Writing is singing from your soul. And those who read, can catch a glimpse.

25. Shimmie Shimmie Yay. Shimmie Yay. Shimmie Shimmie.

Not-so-Orange Juice.

Real. Nature Fresh. Mixed Fruit Juice. The original goodness.

Hmm, really now?

I’m aimlessly staring at this carton of juice that’s lying on my study table. It’s small and blue. It’s empty, like the four other ones lying next to it. Hey, it’s a hot-ass afternoon.

I look around and I can see folded, freshly-laundered t-shirts. I can see text books, registers, and laptops, opened to the notes that we needed for this morning’s paper. I can see an opened, yet empty suitcase. And I can see my room-mate sleeping like a log. Gah.

I’m waiting for her to wake up so I can begin my packing. She’s supposed to supervise it, so I don’t lose my mind with the meticulousness. My cell-phone’s been constantly blinking for fifteen minutes. Hate to screen calls, but what can I do? You’re fucking boring, dude, your loan schemes just don’t interest me.

For those who don’t know, I stay in a sweet hostel, in Manipal. It’s not that god-awful. My room is big enough. I have my own bathroom, which is spotlessly clean more times than once. It’s at a convenient location from my lecture halls, and the campus general store, and all the other little places that fit oh-so-perfectly in this little town. I moved her mid-July to start my engineering. Was in Biotech initially and now upgraded to Automobile. Two thumbs up.

It’s not like I haven’t met people that aren’t from Bombay, or somewhere close-by, but since I’ve been here, staying with them is a totally different thing. There are students not just from all over India, but from all over the world. I have friends from Delhi, Hyderabad, Chennai, Mangalore, Coimbatore, Gujarat, Bihar, California, Haryana, Malaysia, Nigeria, Kenya, Pune, Indore, Faridabad, and of course Bombay. And to live with them, eat with them, study with them, just makes me realise how big this world is and how small we are. I’ve learnt a lot of good And bad things. 

Learnt that if someone’s parents decided to fuck each other, a year or two before mine, it gives them the unquestionable right to “rag” me. 

I learnt how to sneak out of my hostel and stay out nights, wander lusting. 

I learnt how to roll a mean joint and make a bong out of a coke bottle. 

I learnt how to stay up days studying, researching, solving assignments and manage to make it through the paper that matters. 

I learnt to tolerate people and control my fits of rage. 

I learnt to win a pen-fight. 

I learnt how to spend hours in the group-study hall, and have bitch-loads of fun fooling around with everyone. 

I learnt how to survive without a TV, internet, McDonald’s outlet, legit Subway for four months. 

I learnt how to play a good game of pool. 

I learnt how to debate with students from visiting colleges over important world-issues and what not. 

I learnt how to not use a “personal pronoun” and talk Without any eye contact (MUN code of conduct). 

I learnt that people may change, but will sooner or later realise who they are, and what they’ve done and then, what matters the most is that you forgive them. 

I learnt how to break a lock, this time without using a bob-pin. 

I learnt how to speak fluent Delhi Hindi. 

I learnt how to fix a alien charger with a soldering iron, and at the same time burn a pretty clean hole through a book. 

I learnt how to tackle hot-headed seniors and get by without getting a mean ass-whooping. 

I learnt dirt-cheap liquor and free-text messaging is plain Awesome. 

I learnt that shady little bars can be crazy fun on a Saturday night (Respect: Old Dee tee). 

I learnt how to live, in this independence, without self-destructing and actually being able to run the place. 

I learnt how to enjoy a 24 hour impulse trip to Goa and realised that sometimes even seemingly awesome situations can get fucked. 

I learnt how to be a boy. 

I learnt how to be a girl, too. 

I learnt that my obsession with truth is going to kill me.

Reminds me of the song by Gomez, called See the world. It’s a pretty well written song. The band has other several wicked songs, like Notice and How we operate. They’re brilliant. When I listen to such songs, I wonder why I couldn’t come up with a track like that. I space out when I listen to certain songs, and imagine myself singing it, or playing the lead-guitar, sometimes even the drums. Sometimes I space out and have to restart the song, to complete my little day-dream. I secretly listen to my iPod during my Basic Electrical Technology and Problem Solving Using Computers lectures here. The lecture halls are generally freezing, so I can slip the ear-phones through my sweat-shirt and pretend to be freezing my ass off, and listen to a good hour, or two of music. =]

I’m attached to my iPod. Not just in the emotional sense of the term, but quite figuratively. Some of my friends here make it a point to point out every time I run into them, as to how I’m listening to music. Constantly. Everybody else finds it utterly strange if I don’t have my iPod with me. I shit you not, but they stop and ask if everything is okay. Oh, boo hoo.

I try wriggling my toes, because I haven’t done that in a while. I look down at the bright yellow mini-socks. Why do I have these again? I spend way too much time on my laptop. Like when MUN was on, I thought I’d burn it's insides out. Transnational organised crime and drug trafficking: The agendas for UNODC. I represented India.  For fuck knows what reason. I could’ve slept through those days, and taken care of my ghastly stomach ache, but no. I spent three days on my toes. Literally. They made me wear heels. I looked like an air hostess.

“Ladies and Gentlemen please remain in your seats until Captain Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt against the gate. And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we'll open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal."

Which turns my attention to the blue envelope on my study table, which has my e-Ticket and scan-copy of my mum’s credit card. Need. To. Pack. Damnit.

Oh, she’s up. Got to start packing. 

Volatile Nebulae.

"No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own two wings."

- William Blake.

Floating through my dreams.

Like white children through a crystal prism.

Dispersing beads of excited vivid hues. Bounce and hop.

Scatter into a thousand shards of deadly colour.

Wide-eyed and grinning faces slipping through cold iron gates of my mind.

The sharp black tips of which glint in the soft fluffiness of twilight.

Innocent leaves, green clusters gathered close, so secure that the blue jay perched on the chocolate brown woodiness escapes the eye.

He whistles a sugary tune that fills each space with runny joy.

His reflection in the shiny ox-blood orbs of Eve, is filled with sorrow, which sinks into the ground and seeps into the towering flowers.

Raising their sensational crowns, they sway and swing and blot the earthy canvas with the fragrance of a hundred and score scandalized petals.

As I lay there inside the velvety glory of my mind, I stare beadily at the marshmallow ships with masts made of clockwork cotton-candy, sailing through the goodbye blue sky.

Little sailors with blue ties.

Blue, like the deep clear void of liquid silk, with astonished fish walking by.

Let’s sail through the sky, voyage into space, and cast our reels for deep purple dreams.

How delectable the sound.

Cruise control.

We backstroke through the sparkling milkiness and pluck pieces of cheese that melt on our fingers, as enormous dice go drifting by.

The modest princess on the moon motions us to the dark side.

Polaroids of ravens feeding on the sun, misplaced between bleeding pages of words that cry in ruby red.

So clear the sky, that the stars threaten to plunge like bricks into our sleepy minds.

Release.

They swallow us in their misty misty mist.

So hazy, that we cannot sense the cold steely pin pricks of asymmetrical multi-coloured snow-flakes that tumble down like threads from spinning reels of serenity.

We can't hear the blue words and red letters, fighting with the man with the thousand faces.

Faces with shiny jet-black stones for eyes.

Monsters.

You sinner, you whore, you lie.

Miserable, how you try to justify,

Your ways. Your worth

Is nothing more.

Your hands are bleeding,

And knees are sore,

From crawling to your questions,

With no answers to appeal.

Your strength lies in my hands.

You'd be blessed if I let you kneel.

You look around, you look down.

I look away and try not to frown,

At this mess you've made, 

This bed of nails, for me you've laid.

And I'll sleep, as, for truth my soul cries.

I can't see your face, its hidden by your lies.

Your perfect imperfections, bleeding through the light.

You aren't your reflection. Cry to sleep at night.

Truth is a whore, she won't let you sleep.

Your shallow lies won't save you from the deep.

You worship your lie. You wish and you pray.

But when judgement day comes, what will He say?

But no more now. I'm burning bridges tonight.

I'll let you think you've won this fight.

But when it comes around to one last chance,

I'll let you down. I'll practice ignorance.

So your perfect lie, as you pretend,

You fail to see that this is the end.

As you lay alone and cold at night, don't feel too sad.

But just remember, I'll be the best you never had.

You Make Me Feel

Like a warm cup of coffee.

Like the glow of a street-lamp.

Like a chocolate chip cookie.

Like the smell of freshly carved wood.

Like the beach.

Like a fresh poufy load of laundry.

Like laughing on an inside joke.

Like a cute person, checking you out.

Like a chance wad of cash in a jacket pocket.

Like a last box of cereal on a super-market shelf.

Like a rainy Sunday morning.

Like a new pair of comfy shoes.

Like a vintage branded tee in a end-of-season sale.

Like a genuine smile of a stranger.

Like a lonely walk in the rain, with your iPod.

Like in a nap, in the cool breeze, in the shade of palm trees.

Like a spontaneous party, one of the best you’ve ever had.

Like your favourite rock band’s tee.

Like a road trip with friends.

Like waking up beside the person you really care about.

Like cold November rain.

Like having someone tell you that you’re beautiful.

Like a fun day out with a bunch of friends.

Like play practice through the night.

Like a well-appreciated speech.

Like playing competitive board games for hours with friends.

Like an idea that saves the day.

Like the smell of fresh dirt after a night of rain.

Like a midnight phone call that lasts for hours.

Like a perfect picture of yourself.

Like a good hair day.

Like a new friend, who you’re really fond of.

Like a power cut-out on a stay over.

Like a cool shower on a sweaty stuffy afternoon.

Like an amazing dress that fits you just right.

Like watching a beautiful dawn in the cold.

Like a wakeup call from someone you love.

Like a nice complimenting comment on a picture you’ve put up.

Like an impulsive kiss.

Like a really good concert.

Like waking up and realising that you still have a couple of hours to sleep.

Like a new cell-phone.

Like a collage of friends pictures.

Like the video of your favourite song.

Like the perfect song, to define the perfect moment, with the perfect emotions.

Like receiving a text about a cancelled lecture the next morning, on a night-out with friends.

Like a good score on a bad test.

Like band practice throughout the day, in a basement.

Like the song you discover, being appreciated by everyone.

Like getting stuck in the elevator, with the perfect stranger.

Like something you’ve always wanted, half-price.

Like a happy high.

Like the perfect perfume.

Like I love you.

Like you love me.

Like its meant to be.

And The Saints Go Marching In.

Lost. Numb. Frozen.

How can you feel? How can you see?

When you’re blinded by self-satisfying rage.

When you’ve become someone you’re not, to be someone you want to be.

When you hide behind your eyes, your lies.

When you’ve sold out to the hypocrisy that you are.

When you’ve learnt the lies so well, word to heart.

When truth scares you, that you walk away.

When you stay “Stop”, when you’re the one running away.

When you take away the happiness, that was never yours, to make yourself smile.

When you stop running, will things stop following you.

Embrace it.

Be true to yourself. Cause rather than anything else in this world, truth is truth.

Life is too short to spend it living a lie and running away from reality.

Open your eyes, it’s all there.

I don’t want you to regret.

I don’t want you to hurt.

I don’t want it to go down like this.

And it doesn’t have to.

I believed that it matters most if you be there by someone’s side through their bad times.

Maybe this is what  it is.

Maybe you’re right, that I’m upset with myself.

I don’t want to grow cold.

I don’t want to keep away from myself.

I don’t want to hate love.

I don’t want to live the rest of my life with this burden on my shoulders.

I don’t want you to live the rest of your life with this burden on your shoulders.

Because life tends to tumble your heart around in circles.

And you need to forget.

You need to forgive.

If you believe that you need time to heal your wounds.

I believe that there weren’t any wounds to begin with.

If you believe that everything has changed.

I believe that nothing changes the truth.

If you believe the misunderstandings that is life.

I believe that life is a misunderstanding.

I have never believed in anything more in my life.

And I need this belief. And you need to believe this.

Stop thinking, start feeling.

Because one thing that weighs you down is the stone you throw around.

I want to make love to you under the stars.

I want to hold your hand and walk for hours.

I want to look into eyes and whisper the three words.

I want to just lie in your arms, in your warmth.

I want to take you away.

I want to kiss your lips, soft and gentle.

I want to blow bubbles on your tummy.

I want to make you smile, with baby impressions.

I want to take care of you.

I want to be protected and sheltered with your tight hug.

I want to be held tight and never let go off.

I want to be told that everything is going to be alright.

I want to watch a movie, but not watch it at all.

I want to ride through the night in empty streets, holding you so tight.

I want to see you looking into my eyes, while we connect.

I want to take your pain away.

I want you to kiss away mine.

I want to use my heart, not my head.

I want to blindly fall in love again.

Maybe I'll Just Sing About It.

Its the moment you regret that you thought you will never,
Cause desire will haunt you forever and ever;
All the lost emotions and memories you bottle them up,
But baby, watch out, your spilling over the cup.

Look what you've done, you made yourself cry.
You pray and you weep that its not the last goodbye.
You thought it would last but now its all gone;
No longer the dream, no longer the song.

Victim to emotion, ignorance is bliss.
You said you take all of hell just for that last kiss;
But that look and that smile will be only fer a while;
But look back, its been gone for miles and miles.

Strange as it may be, you've come a long hard way.
You thought there was nothing left to say;
But you could've, you should've, you did not.
Too late, now its become a part of your ocean of thought.

Just a thought.
You watch as that bird you held close flies far away
And your mistakes in ink have faded away
The mirror lies shattered but the song will still play
And the smile will stay.
And the smile will stay.

Close your eyes cause its not that last goodbye.
That beautiful memory will never die.
And that smile will stay as long as the stars shine.
We'll always be partners in rhyme.

Butterflies and Hurricanes.

The sweet gentle flow of the beats and the rhyme
The old man with the sax, weeping for gone time
The pain and the sadness in his beautiful song.
The man has grown old now, the scars long gone.

The soldier who lost the battle to gunmen of age
He’s lost all that we won, he’s finished the final page
He survived the war, just to see brothers die
Alone by himself, his bleeding heart breathes a sigh.

He’s 19 and just fresh out in life
He dreams of the time when she’ll be his wife
But a uzi in his grip than reason in his brain
Misguided and hustled to feel only pain.

He shoots and he scores and he shoots some more
Every morning when he steps out his door
His mother whispers a silent prayer, she cries
She wishes he’d be alive to sing lullabies.

His mind like a canvas, untouched and pure
He’s still a child, can’t take anymore
He loves them both, but their ego is high
Parents, look at him, he’s being murdered inside.

He bottles up and stores away, the tears and the fights
He lies awake through the endless nights.
And grows to be wary of love and joy
The canvas was stained, when he was just a little boy.

Look around, open your eyes, my dear mate.
We’re responsible as much, don’t blame it on fate.
Feeling and yet blinded by the sheer ignorance
The lure of the trophy life will only end in decadence.

Open up, let in and love with all heart
Be true and be kind, be the first to start
It’s not just a race, it’s not just a game
You think you’ll are not, but you’re all just the same.

Brothers in arms and no ammunition in sight
It’s a warm sunny day and a cool tempting night
It’s a peace-ridden world, with free love to share
Break down the doors, heavens right there.

Edge Of Seventeen.

Today the sky is crashing around me
But I don’t seem to care.
Things just don’t seem to go right
But I’m far from despair.

Left my cell phone on silent
Missed an important call
I’m late again, missed my train
But I got a smile on, even after all.

But I don’t care
If I fall right on my face
I don’t care
I know I’m gonna come first in this uphill human rat-race
I don’t care
If everything is not perfectly fine
I don’t care
‘Cause I think of you and everything is alright.

Papers strewn all over
Stereo blaring loud
Stumble outta my door in a hurry
But still hold my head proud.

Worn the torn socks in a hurry
Burnt my breakfast
Managed to make it on time but
Forgot all about my test

But I don’t care
If I fall right on my face
I don’t care
I know I’m gonna come first in this uphill human rat-race
I don’t care
If everything is not perfectly fine
I don’t care
‘Cause I think of you and everything is alright.

There seem to be too many problems
This just doesn’t seem to be my day
But hey, isn’t this life?
To me, it’s all gonna be okay.

I’m always tuned off into my own world
My iPod I just can’t seem to find
Then there are nights that never end
On second thoughts, I don’t mind

But I don’t care
If I fall right on my face
I don’t care
I know I’m gonna come first in this uphill human rat-race
I don’t care
If everything is not perfectly fine
I don’t care
‘Cause I think of you and everything is alright.