Stench

Stench, that odor, flaring up my nostrils

Suffocating, poisoning my inside parts. 

What rotten flesh, what burnt-down body

Could emit such a smell, I wonder which.

The pungent odor refuses to leave

Chicken left too long to simmer, broken eggs.

Vegetables left to be scavenged by rats

Those rats consumed in the evening broth.

The bride set to fire, warm kerosene

The bride now sits here, emitting fumes.

She'll live with the stench throughout her life

What life is this devoid of beauty.

Forget beauty, no greeting flowery scent 

That scent lost, doused by pure flames.

Those flames have now reduced to soot

The poor soul, she sits there mute. 

I wonder what travesty occurred

It claimed her tender, child-like skin. 

I wonder what drove her, or any other

To play with fire and dance with it. 

Maybe she lit the final flame 

Vengeance took over, maybe she sinned.

Or maybe the classic case, the ill of dowry

Nothing to give, nothing to gift.

The men in fading pinstripes, jeer and cheer

While I sit tight, pretend to forget. 

I ramble on, I wouldn't know a thing

Except the morbid, dead, pungent stench.

Shame.

Eyes wide open, the pondering gaze
Look right through me, bow down in shame.
That shame, that gaze replaced by a sham
This age and world not worth a damn.

That shame again draws me closer
Closer to the eyes of the beholder.
Those eyes again, they drive me mad
They seem so sure, depth, them sad.

That shame that seems so lost on oblivion
That shame I wonder when it left us Lord.
Instead we're greeted by unfocused eyes
That shame we crave for, that shame be mine.

Shameful.

Someone

I want to meet someone interesting. Someone new. Someone fresh. Someone who'll make stop thinking about everything else for a while. Someone who reads books. Not just bestsellers and the Harry Potters and the Tolkiens and the Salman Rushdies. Someone who listens to music that isn't pop. Someone who can make stories out of music that has no lyrics. Someone who remembers the lyrics to good music. Not loud and blaring music; something soft, something you can get lost while listening to. Someone who liked Fight Club; who can't get over the awesomeness that the movie was.

I want to meet someone who loves actors and not just admires them. Like not just their acting but the person those men with the masks are. Someone who admires Daniel Craig's rawness and the way he says fuck; someone who is awed by the beauty his wife Rachel Weisz possesses.

I want to meet someone who truly loves the things they love. I want to hear them go on and on about the things they admire; admiring every tiny detail, the beauty in the detailing. I want someone who won't get bored with me, someone I won't have to make an effort to converse with. Someone who I'd feel like talking to; someone so interesting that I never forget our conversations.

I want to meet someone who's undecided. Undecided in what they want, what they don't; undecided in life. And I want them to be okay with that, because it's alright to be undecided. It is. When my mobile vibrates with their calls I don't want to get annoyed, but smile. I want to meet someone who's not afraid to think; and stand by the things they believe in. I don't want them to be clamped in their little world, but to reach beyond and feel limitless.

I want to meet someone new. I do.

Close to 7 billion people on this planet. Some of them have to be interesting and not just average.

I just want to be stimulated; to get out of this rut. Break this machine that I've become a gear of and just become a rubber tyre, free to to roll wherever I want to. Not bound, not chained. Just free.

I want to meet someone interesting. And I want them now. 

From One Drug To Another

There comes a time when you get this realization... this epiphany... this intense moment where God decides to kick your nuts and the pain is so extreme that it travels up your body and gives you a splitting headache. 

The splitting headache in turn spreads across your body; converting into a full-fledged body ache. 

But somehow the pain seems to be concentrated on your back and in your mind.

This has to mean something right? There has to be some sort of connect between the mind and back I suppose. Something beyond biology and all that jazz. Something a little more deep, a little more meaningful. 

My theories and the ideas of other people that I respect, often make more sense to me than the scientific bullshit I've been fed throughout my insignificant existence. 

I understand that you may be curious as to why exactly the fan rotates and what makes it move.

I'd say fuck it; I switch on the damn button and the fan moves. End of story.

Maybe I'm just not scientifically inclined. But then again I love science fiction. Isaac Asimov; what a charmer. 

Epiphany time - I just realized. I would have learnt all of that scientific stuff if it had been taught with the kind of beauty a science fiction novel is written. Even a sci-fi movie's charisma would do. 

I digress. 

When you enter a new life, when you become independent, live in your own establishment that is your home and not your parent's, live with strangers who become your friends, do things you wouldn't dream of doing a while back, things your parents can ever dream of you doing, you fuck up, get into trouble, survive, get into shit again, bounce back and so on...

Until that time where there's a road-block. It's not the end of the line. It's not something that is going to stop you from being who you are and doing what you want and doing who you want. But still... it hits your eye.

There is this moment of clarity where realizations decide to make a visual appearance. And it doesn't happen rapidly, in a fast beam of energy. So fast that you can't make head or foot of it. 

It happens slowly, gradually, giving you time to think, helping you realize. 

It's like this little lady by the lake is telling you that the water is too deep to dive in. She tells you that you can try to swim across the lake if you desire so but it is dangerous. You might make it, might not. She knows that you're a daredevil, a rebel of the highest order; probably without a cause. She wants you to understand that you don't have to prove it all the time. You don't have to jump in the lake.

Not when you can't swim.

Moving on, from one drug to another. 

There is no scenario where you will not like this song.