In The Dark Alley

'This city is afraid of me. I have seen it's true face. The streets are extended gutters. And the gutters are full of blood. When the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all  their dirt will foam up around their waists. And all the whores and the politicians will look up and shout "Save Us!"… and I will whisper "No."'

 

Rorschach's words from 'Watchmen' keep playing in my head as I lie in this dark alley-unguarded, unclothed and indignant. Ingratitude has crossed limits of my patience and now boils up anger in my head and I survive by downplaying others in my head to glorify myself-A fake existence. I have been stripped of my beliefs and my emotions and thrown to be laughed at, to be constantly judged upon and to be preserved as an instance. There is no humanity. There is only a crowd, walking with their eyes closed, unable to see beyond itself.

 

I have seen people change around me. I have felt time flow through my thoughts, my actions, my laughter and my denials. They say I am stuck in time. They say that they haven't changed. But I see change. I see selective honesty. I see superficial decency, apparent sophistication and narrower spans of human concern. I feel woken up to this truth. And raindrops fall slowly to my skin I look up to the sky to see dark clouds, tall buildings and even taller shadows. Shadows of people moving about outside the alley heavily ignorant of each other, ignorant of me. And I feel that deep sense of longing again, to get back a small portion of what I gave, what I sacrificed. I feel cheated. The foundations of my life shaken and a devotion of my life stands futile in the rains of deceit, double faces and mistrust. Rain drops fall on every inch of my skin as if exploiting the dryness of it. I have been crippled and I stand naked , my mind forcing me to accept the truth-the truth of real power which nests in it's craving. I am being linearised into the crowd by those which first made me stand out. I smile. Hypocrisy. But then man is not a hypocrite. Hypocrisy is us.

 

Déjà vu.

 

This has happened before. I have been here before.  I know what to do. And I suddenly stand, the rain forcing me down. I have to do what I did last time-find another one. I start scourging the alley but its too dark.  I am on all fours and scanning the wet earth with my hands. And then…I find it-The Mask. But I don't know what it looks like. I am apprehensive but I look at the rambling crowd outside and I pick it up. I find an overcoat and a hat in as trash bin. I put them on and dreading what I am going to become I put on the mask. It was cold and wet from the rain. I  put my hands in the pockets and start walking towards the street, my bare feet dripping water every time they rose. I reach the end of the alley and step into the moving crowd. Time slows down. 

 

People stop to see my emergence, bumping into each other, their bodies swaying, but their eyes fixed. On me. It takes a moment for them to stand still and the hitherto ignorant crowd, now cranes it's neck, first left, then right and then left again just to have a glimpse. They watch me with their ever-critical eyes roving up and down my body, judging everything from my bare feet to the ragged hat on my head, trying to see how I am different and how I am  a fool. Seconds are moving with the pace of a tortoise and the crowd constantly swells with people joining it in semicircles and I…am waiting.

 

 

PAIN

Pain is the truth

Pain is a parasite

Pain makes you all alone

Pain is a lie

 

Pain is death

Pain is life

Pain feeds on you alone

Pain asks WHY?

 

But

Pain can be hidden

Pain can be a secret

burning aways inside

what remains of you

 

But

Pain can be twisted

Pain can be moulded

to look like what

has become of you

 

 

But

Pain asks WHY?

Pain has to be answered

For

Pain cannot be avoided

Pain cannot be ignored

Pain can be ended

only by going through it

And one day it will end

And life will be sweet

But

It has not ended

For it has become

YOU

that funny smile(?) on his face

I remember the joker 

with that funny smile on his face

he was juggling empty bottles

children staring dazed

a round fake nose

on his white painted face

and in red was lined

that funny smile on his face

He played with the kids

as one among them all

riding them on his back

or balancing the balls

A naughty kid came up

and threw water on his face

laughed, he, on his prank 

and on that misfigured face

For the white paint had come out

the red smile slided down

that funny smile on his face

had turned into a frown

the kids started laughing

and they laughed out too loud

and the otherwise funny joker

was now suddenly in doubt

But seeing the kids amused

he widened his grin

which made his face look

like that of a joker crying

and the kids laughed louder

but i got into thinking

has he really widened his smile?

or is he...crying?

Good Day Bad Day

"Bad day" he thought angrily. "First in the morning. Now this."

 He looked down at the chain dangling from the hood of the pedal.

“Bad Day” he sighed.

 

Awake.

He had woken up suddenly. Only too realise it was 11 and he had already missed the class. It was not that he had some penchant for attending classes. It was only because he got to sit with this girl he liked in this particular class. He thought of the guy who must be sitting with her now. Fifty minutes in ES class (with that pathetically slow professor) is enough for any guy to make a nice chance.

“Competition everywhere” he murmured in a kind of irritation that could only arise from waking up to bad news.

 

“What!” he exclaimed over the phone.

He looked at his watch. It was five minutes to five. He shot up from the chair pulled up the jeans lying on the bed, strapped on his watch and got out of his room to bang on the door next to his.

“Wha...?” his neighbour murmured in a semi-conscious state, his eyes puffy.

“cycle key” he said.

His neighbour swore loudly and pointed to a key on the table. He picked up the key and ran shouting:

“Please lock my door too. You know where to keep the key.”

He heard his neighbour swear again.

 

Locked door.

He was looking at a locked door. He was panting, his hands on his waist. He looked at his watch. Two minutes past five and he had no idea how late he was.

 

Girls giggling.

This was something he hated very much at these times. He had just missed a grade perhaps by about two minutes and all these girls can do is giggle. And for apparently no reason at all. Or was it because of his foul mood. Was his mood showing on his face? He tried to make a normal face. He reached for the lock in the cycle and unlocked it. He climbed the cycle and pedalled too hard perhaps. He heard a loud snap. And girls giggling.

 

And now 15 minutes past 15, he is walking with the cycle in one hand. He was thinking how stupid it must look to carry a cycle like this. He had always found people carrying their cycles like this amusing. And now the joke is on him. And as if all this was not enough the group of guys whom he very much disliked were walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the road. He avoided making eye contact but couldn’t help. They saw him and acknowledged in the most minimal way possible. He gave his weakest smile and saw a twinkle in their eyes. Or was he imagining? He didn’t care. Enough had happened already. But apparently that was not the case. As he turned around the corner, he saw the girl from his ES class standing with a guy. And it was not just any other guy, it was him. It was his neighbour, Ankit. He couldn’t understand. When he had left him, he was positively swearing and puffy eyed. Now he looked fresh and in the prime of his life and with the very girl he liked. Was there something going on between them? ‘Or they just met?’- an excuse as old as language. He looked for anything, a gesture or a smile that could tell...Oh wait!...they were holding hands now! No they were not. Ankit was merely giving her something. He couldn’t see what. But still there was a definite brushing.  This was it. Seeing them together had branded his day to be the worst in the recent times. He so wished that it was he who was holding her hands. He looked at his hands and felt their desperation. They were black.

 *** 

“It’s a good day” he thought happily.

“First in the ES class and then now.”

“Good day” he sighed happily.

If his neighbour hadn’t woken him up for the cycle keys, he, perhaps, wouldn’t have got the chance to be with her. The strange irony about it was that his neighbour had to play a part in this fortunate meeting. But he had to be cautious of his neighbour. If he found out...he shook his head and turned around. His stomach curled. His neighbour was walking with his cycle in one hand and was staring at at them. No, he was staring six feet to his right. One couldn’t tell from this distance. And what was wrong with his cycle? He tried to find out but couldn’t see anything. But there were more important things on hand. Karan was definitely not going to like him and Natasha together even if they just ‘happened to meet’.

“What happened?” Natasha asked simply.

“hmmm....” he turned around. “nothing. It was just Karan.Look.” He pointed at Karan. She turned around flicking her hair. He liked it.

“Of course, he is” she said with a smile. He didn’t like it.

“Why didn’t he come to the ES class today?” she asked with a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“er...I don’t know. He was sleeping perhaps.” He said maintaining optimum innocence.

“You are sideys, right? You could have waken him up.” She said.

Of course, it was so simple for her. He smiled sarcastically. She suddenly turned serious at his smile. He made up a normal face and decided to answer her question.

“Oh..ummm...I had another class.” He said and cleared his throat briefly. Meanwhile he could feel Karan coming closer. He had come close enough for Natasha was looking on his right and smiling.

“Hey, Karan” she said. Ankit turned around to see Karan coming with both his hands determinedly holding the handle bar.

“Hey Natasha” Karan replied. It was his turn now.

“Hey Ankit”  he heard. But that was not bitter. He expected to be bitter. In fact it seemed positive, a little too positive.

“ey” he replied back, his throat suddenly constricted. “What happened to the cycle?”

“Oh! I am sorry yaar! The chain came off. I think I pedalled too hard. I tried to put it on but the hood wouldn’t let me.” Karan said. Something in his voice told him that Karan really meant that.  Ankit was a little taken aback. Karan was not the type of guy who would feel even the tinsiest bit of sorry for a cycle chain.

“That’s okay.” Ankit replied “It do comes out once in a while.” Karan nodded.

“So what are you doing here?” Karan asked Natasha. Again Ankit felt bitterness missing in his voice. “And you...” Karan rounded on him “How come you are here? I remember leaving you half asleep”

There it came! He felt a little bitterness.

“well...you woke me up so I came out for some...fresh air” he said again the constriction in his throat blocking his voice. He cleared his throat loudly. He felt Natasha move away from him a little.

“yeah...”continued Natasha with a little extra zeal “I was returning from a class. And I really needed my pen drive which Ankit had.” She held out her hand. Karan looked at the pen drive resting on her palm. Ankit felt for a second that Karan was looking at the pen drive with too much interest. His eyes had definitely brightened for a moment.

“So you slept through ES today. You should have come. He started a new chapter.” She said with a funny smile on her face. Ankit now suddenly felt very insecure.

“Yeah I slept through ES today. But how did you...” Karan asked but was interrupted.

“Oh! Ankit told me.”  She said quickly.

“And did Ankit tell you why he didn’t wake me up for the class.” Karan rounded on Ankit. This was it. This was the proof that Karan was disturbed seeing him and Natasha together. And he deliberately framed this sentence in a way that was bitter to the core but dipped in mischievous curiosity. But then Karan’s face assumed a kind look which again put him into doubt.

“I had gone to SPM class” Ankit said. “Today.”

“You don’t attend...” Karan asked quizzically.

“yeah..I generally don’t.” Replied Ankit looking at Karan. But Karan’s eyes were boring into him. So he turned around to look at Natasha who was smiling mischievously too but suddenly pursed her lips when he looked at her. “But I went today.” He said and turned around to face Karan again who to his surprise was smiling very kindly at him. “I wanted to keep up with what was going on in the class...you know.” He finished.

“Yeah. I Know.” Karan said. “And thank god for that. Because I really needed  that sleep tonight.” Karan said kindly and smiled. He believed him. He believed him? Ankit looked carefully at his face expecting a twinge of mischief in his eye but did not find any. He felt a little relieved and at ease.

“Okay. I have to got to go.” Karan said.  “I need really to have a bath.” Karan added and smiled sheepishly.

“How long since your last bath?” asked Ankit.

Karan turned around. So did Natasha who started smiling. He had asked the wrong question. Yes, he had asked the wrong question. This was the problem. He just can’t control his mouth when he suddenly feels at ease. Karan eyes were boring into him again with a strange look that he could not comprehend. What was it? Ankit became impatient. He was smiling so were his eyes. But there was a shine in it. The shine gave him a feeling of contentment. But he wasn’t speaking anything either and all that Ankit wanted was for him to answer the question and end the tension (if any).

“Good try Ankit, but I had a bath yesterday?” Karan said pointedly. Ankit relaxed. Natasha was still smiling.

“Okay I will go then. See you Natasha.” Karan turned and nodded at her “And you” He turned to face Karan and held up a hand. Ankit got confused. It was unnatural for Karan to hold out a hand. They lived next door.  He was smiling with a child-like anticipation in his eyes. Ankit held up his hand and shook it with Karan’s. He felt his palm stick to Karan’s. It felt strange, very strange. He looked down and tried to pull his hand. But it was indeed stuck. He looked up at Karan and muttered “What the...” but stopped on seeing the mischievous smile on his face that was slowly turning into a laugh. He lifted his had, thus lifting Karan’s with him, to find the answer. Grease. Karan pulled off his hand and showed both of his hands to him and Natasha. They were black with the grease. Natasha started laughing too. Ankit stood there stupidly. He did not know what to say. He wanted to swear loudly but had to settle with a meek “kya yaar...”

 ***

Karan was looking at Ankit with the utmost satisfaction. And Natasha’s slow but conscious laugh made him even more happier.

“Not a bad day after all.” He thought.

 

 

 

 

 

Joker's Delight

Fictional Decency

Fictional Morality

Patience is a mask 

to hide the insanity

Fickle Promises

Fickle Relations

it can't be given 

without expectation

Futile Efforts

Futile Feelings

chance should be the one

accused of stealing

False Dreams

False Fantasies

Hope is a tree 

that shades reality

Frivolous Commitments

Frivolous Sacrifices

thousands die behind

unseen to the eye

Fake Characters

Fake Life

the World's a stage

for Joker's delight 

A Letter To A Friend From Another World

My dear friend

from Another World

seperate though

our worlds may be

and not often do

each other we see

but a thread of life

do we share

inspite of the distance

we do care

though long left

I had you world               

an awkardness in me

had unfurled

this world being

different from yours

          

had alienated those

which made me yours

so a different though

I may a little be

the same child is 

alive inside me

from this letter

I hope you feel

what has changed 

is the way to see

I am, as always,

your loving friend

from Another World

I see her everywhere

on the shady street

as people pass by

a familiar face

catches my eye

my heart beats hard

my eyes eager

only to find that 

it's not her

and the flowers still spread

the fragnance in the air

and golden gets the sky  

when I see her everywhere

when Romeo sings 

his heart's song

to a patient Juliet

who smiles along

and a blink later

the smile is replaced

by a familiar grin

on that gentle face

and the flowers still spread

the fragnance in the air

and golden gets the sky  

when I see her everywhere

as darker gets the night

and lost gets the mind

in the emptiness of it 

the eyes go blind

her face crops up 

and gently it reminds

there are two ways

for one to go blind

and the flowers still spread

the fragnance in the air

and golden gets the sky  

when I see her everywhere

Poverty

In the unreached corners of the city,
And by the side of a vast road,
Exists the dark side of mankind
And prosperity, struggling for survival
The inferiors of the superior
To exist in their only challenge
Neglected by their own;
Living under the tents of rags,
Naked children playing around;
Searching the garbage for
Leftovers, man & dog alike;
Wishing to die every night
In sleep only to be
Woken in the morn to lead
Another day of lifeless life.

(written in the 11th standard)

Poison in my head

silence instills fear

noise gives hope

poison in my head

I am poisoning myself

trivials incite doubt

accidents seem provident

poison in my head

I am poisoning myself

genuinnness seems fake

doubts create truths

poison in my head

I am poisoning myself

fact denies want

want defies logic

poison in my head

I am poisoning myself

smile still disarms

eyes still intoxicate

poison in my head

I am poisoning myself

mind is a prison

thoughts are poison

poison in my head 

I am poisoning myself

The Opponent

For him it was always a mind game. It was finished in his mind before the actual end. It was about maintaining the balance in his mind. More than winning it was about learning the game, enjoying it. It was about playing in the best way possible. The opponent was always on the other side only. Inside the mind it was always about how to play that shot better, how to place that ball better. But tonight was a big and important match and so was the opponent. Tonight it was different. He turned around to look at his opponent lining up his bottle near the foot of the chair. His opponent had a burly built. He had bulging biceps and calf muscles. The physicality of his opponent’s game disturbed him. It was not the way he played. Neither would it let him play the game his way. He realized that his opponent’s physicality was, in fact, the only solution to the game he played as the only way to fail your opponent’s strategy in this game was to play accordingly to it and not giving up. If your opponent believes that you could not play that particular shot, the only way to break his belief is to go ahead and play that shot. It was as simple as that. Though most people did not give up but simply failed to play accordingly. But this one, here, had so much of physical stamina and power that could fail the best of the strategies. His opponent destroyed his mind game by sheer physicality. And as he rose from his chair he realized that that was what was happening here. He had tried everything and his opponent had risen to almost all occasions leaving him with a dearth of ideas. This had disturbed his balance. And he was reminded almost forcefully and unpleasantly of their previous meeting when he had lost very narrowly. His opponent was becoming a force, a reality which he had not yet faced. Over the years his opponent had improved and had become the anti of his game. As he thought deeper, he felt as if he had a large hand in creating that opponent who was now standing on the other side of the court. And as he bounced the ball to serve in the fourth game of the last set, he realised that his opponent was no longer an opponent and no longer existed on the other side of the court. The opponent had become Rafael Nadal and was now in his mind.

-after watching 2009 Australian Open Men's singles Final between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal