riveting hopes

How much more affinity can I have
with  a truth that even I find hard to stare
I keep on fidgeting as my hopes fly riveting
with every news I find  a mention
Once a rumor now a lost hope
But now some more pain can only subside this tension...
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As affinity bowls me happiness makes me lie
after all this is the reason that I would try
Fidgeting body jittery mind
deep down I know I can still be kind
Father to a radical mind son to a scrambled heart
Onlooker to a fallacy
or the supreme holder of a rotten legacy
All I can mention is that
she should have been a not been
Cause that only would have been
My meanest of means...
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And as I yearn for an affinity that has created  pain
a stench,a killer feels years after his moments of mention
Rebellious disgust,drastic measures messed up
For happiness which went only dressed up

I was the only one at the funeral
A funeral  happy for this death
Cause it was just me and the funeral
Me dead and the funeral happy
 for me being dead
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just wanted to see how these 3 words address my thoughts in different directions.
Want to know how others go after their thoughts while writing poems.
The words at 3WW this week are affinity,fidget and mention

~Harsha 

tiranga

Anybody with 3 colors and a circle

can't be me

Anybody who just wants to hoist me 

can't be me

I am not the money in a CWG scam

neither am I the rising onion price

I am not the one who wants to be unfurled in a reactive state

nor am I the spirit of the various terrorist attacks

I am not the building scam for politicians

Neither am I the Bofor's deal still fought in courts

How dare you to call me the bone of a 2G scam

How dare you to associate me with a state division's 

I don't belong to Mumbai attacks

I never was a part of the Godhra riots

What am I 

a conniptipon or a soul gone astray

Please,Don't take my name for a blame

that I never did

My colors don't justify religion

My spokes don't symbolise corruption

I don't have the glutton for boundaries

This year I am 61 

I am born again and dead at the same time

No,I am not dead but you try to maime me

kill me

every year

Not by snubbing me

but by hoisting me

year over year

shamelessly,seamlessly

By making me symbolise a country

which shows no sign of reform,remorse

But whose integrity itself has gone janky

I know that this day has come again

A day for me

Let me live from this year

With dignity,with respect

Promise me just once

Atleast for this year

Promise me

That when you unfurl me

You would take steps 

to scooch 

over the sad past

to eradicate,to end 

what has been there always

Just for once

No matter how small it is

but you would try

And then I would say

that any 3 colors and a circle

show me

Show that 

I am the tricolor

This week's words at 3WW being:

conniption; noun: a bad tantrum. One has a conniption or conniption fit.
janky; adjective: broken or functioning poorly or improperly; messed up.
scooch; verb: to move over, or to scoot.

I thought to write a story first but then today is India's Republic Day so thought to jot what India as an individual would be feeling as the voice of youth as me.

Image Courtsey:One of my friends-Prashant Mishra had painted our Indian flag's sorry state once.Hope we improve it.

~Harsha

the kill

beneath 
the surreality
the banter
the hogged lights 
the omnipresence


beneath
the twitched elbows
the gnawed nails
the blood puddles


beneath them all
was the success 
that could have come 
happily holistically
but now neither did any one notice
nor did any one care to acknowledge
the fact


that his move was not deliberate
neither amateur
the kill amassed once was still known
but his descent had started
not now
but back's back
like a track's crack
small at the start 
but deep as it greys


he still kills his kill
everyday
just in the hope 
that people would appreciate
just in the hope 
that applause will be his


what he has failed to appreciate
till now
is that he just needs to satiate himself
and not even one morose critic
not another country man
neither any of his family


then only his kill would be his.


The words at 3WW being descent, kill, surreal


~Harsha

whew,it was close

The words at 3WW are: harmless, moist, yelp

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Neither do I understand nor can I make people understand.

But I feel the urge to write when I am in the midst of my most important things as now.
But I am forced to remember that particular shot that had happened so clearly which could have very well changed my life forever.

Happily it din't.

It was the night of 24th of dec.There were just 15 minutes remaining for the gongs to sound and people to call hallelujah.
I had a hell of office work that day.I was choked to my head from the religious crap that I had been following since long.I could hear the sudden yelps my heart was muffling.
And after that long day I knew there were very few people meeting whom would give me the much needed respite.
And there I was all set to meet her.She had been to a party and had asked me not to come to pick her up as the night was more cold than the regular ones.

But,I insisted.

With gloves and 2 jackets on I was all set to capture the night.
With bike's engine revving up under me I set out.Me and this grim 2 wheeler always have been conqueror of sorts.
And this bike would turn even if I just said her to turn.
That was the camraderie that we shared.
That night too I came out with all hopes set high to break my mental barriers but something else awaited to be broken.

I was just 5 minutes out of the parking,on the main road when I came face to face with a big circular turn.
As always I coolly glided on that turn with the ace of the professional that I have always showed.
There was a bus going in front of me.i was planning to overtake it since long.Suddenly,the bus took a left.
The road being an extra large one and seeing the bus move towards its stop I pulled up the accelerator to a few more millimeters.

The bus moving to the left and I overtaking it from the right.Everything was perfect,perfectly harmless.In a matter of a few macro seconds I would have crossed the bus when suddenly the driver changed his mind.
In an instant the bus driver flicked his bus towards the right bringing it squarely in front of me.
I believe he did it cause there were no passengers to get down.

But that was when precisely everything pulled into slow motion for me.
first I saw the bus in front of me.
Then I looked at the other lane but there was a truck coming from the other side.Then with all my might I pressed the rear break and I knew that the collision was inevitable.
I was not able to believe that I of all the people would meet with an accident,me who never flouted rules.
With little options left I finally pressed my front brake.it was a disk brake.Within fraction of seconds the engine came to a halt but being on a turn the whole vehicle skidded and with it moved my body.
I could clearly feel my right leg touching the tarmac and then the bike.Within a moment I fell off from the vehicle.
I was seeing sparks flying from the bike and the bike kept moving from the bus.
If there was anything that was going through my head at that moment was the thought that this was not my bike and it was of foremost importance to me.

I don't know why but I looked at my left and I could smell the big bus tyres moving just on my side.
Slowly I stood up.I could feel all my limbs intact.With my pant half torn and superficial wounds which were blood smeared I slowly started hearing peoples voices.

They came to me running and said that it seemed that I would be dead by now.
Finally i was diagnosed with right leg limb rupture and some blood clots.
Things could have been worse,events could have been distorted.
Life doesn't come with alarm bells always.
But the few chances that we get can always be worked for a constructive future.
Sounds stupidly philosophical,boringly idiotic but still we should enjoy the moments that we have.
Or someday with moist eyes we would be looking at limbs which were once hands,a body which was once life..
I have met people who weren't as lucky as me.
But then life moves on.
Now while resting in this plaster cast I actually think that although my life doest seem to be changed but yes still it has.

~Harsha

you there

dabble, lean, utter


Deep within this shit,I thought that there would be hope.
I thought that tomorrow when the sun would set I would rise
Rise again with the rising sun
I would dabble with affairs that I had lost 
Lost in deep affirmative sorrows
My body agreed to lean on the shoulders of my hope
And hope agreed not to utter what was known
All my life I turned out to be a man 
who with time agreed not to be a man
A man when it was needed the most
A soul which pleaded most
Like a ghoul over the window
like a spectre over the sheet
like that aching beat
that guttural sounds,that muffled shrieks
That I had tried to suffocate,to annex
all but in vain
was but a stain
of a past that I could neither remember nor forget
A wish that I could neither desire
nor destroy
cause all that had been left in me was a man 
but yet not a man

The day is yours

"The enthusiasm is killing me." howled the kid down the room.
His mother too was jumping in leaps and bounds.
This day was no ordinary day and her gesture was no ordinary one.
This was the day when her son had FINALLY passed the 10th class.
Yes and that too after three unsuccessful attempts.
There was a party lined up today.
The whole family had been gearing up for a together at Atif's home.
It was not that Atif was not mischievous.
Yes,he was like every second boy.
But what he was bad at was studies.
It wasn't that he never studied,infact he gave in more efforts than the regular pupils.
But still he was never able to make the cut.
Three consecutive flunks shatter a young boy who hardly understands and who can even hardly tell.


Things like these happen most of the times.
Either we or our siblings or our friends or maybe our children have been in the shoes of Atif.
Imagine Atif.
Studying hard.Planning even harder.
With friends he too might plan a long summer vacation after the break.
He too would have dreams.


I had a chat with Atif once.
I could feel the pain in his voice.
I remember the last time when his result came and I could hear his choked voice on the other end of the phone.
It was me whom he trusted the most and so he had asked me to check his result.
When I told him that he had failed he just asked me to recheck the result and said that it couldn't be true.
That was the biggest panic that has ever set in me.I could visualise the immediate outcome.
From that time to the time I reached his home I just wished that he din't do anything miserable.
I called his parents and just asked them to be with him.
Times like these are so fragile and life so vulnerable.
I am sometimes like nowadays enamoured of Atif.
I keep down weighing for my failures.
But when I see the world from Atif's view my failures have been nothing.
Imagine knowing that there is one more year wherein you can't do anything else but the same old process.
You don't even know what went wrong the last time.
You GAVE your best everytime.
You would continue to do so even now,but till when??
Add to this the shame when you meet your friends.
The humiliation your neighbours shower you with.


I have always said one thing-
Even at 3 am at night if their is some one who would take you with open arms is your family.
Be THE family,the treasure children want at these times.
Show them that you trust them.
Tell Atif that there is still life it was just a bloody exam and nothing else.
Remember that Atif is  a lot more broken about this than any one else in the whole world.
It was his result after all.
I too have not been a  standing pillar for Atif.
Misunderstanding his failing as his notoriety.


Let Atif see the light of the day.
Hopefully today is the party Atif had planned for,since three long excruciating years.
Let's raise a toast for Atif.
The day is yours.


Something on the same lines:-  in the mind of a dyslexic


Note:
Every 100 minutes another teenager will commit suicide.
Suicide is the second leading cause of death among people between the ages of 14 and 25 in the United States.
The following statistics were taken from a recent survey of college and high school students by the CDC:
Twenty-seven percent of high school students said they had "thought seriously" about killing themselves during the past year. Eight percent said they had actually tried to kill themselves.
Ten percent of U.S. college students admitted serious thoughts about suicide. Seven percent had a suicide plan.
More than 30,000 Americans commit suicide each year, and 5,000 of these people are teenager
Read more: http://www.livestrong.com/article/13945-suicide/#ixzz14rxxu65W

Thousands of children commit suicide all over the world just because of flunking in exams.

The time has come for change

Written for 3ww
The words being:-gesture, immediate, treasure


Photo Courtsey:

Sanitarium IIby =aR-Ka

~Harsha 

my 2 cents

A sandstorm hit my view as I clobbered my own failures.
I knew that somehow I had agreed mutually with my self that even at my wit's end that this road was now a dead end.
But somehow I looked back at those grapes turned sour.
A constant question had kept popping since long but I had always hushed it away.
Today I just HAD to give the answer.
The solution was to either live the barricaded life engulfed in a cyst of my own existence or fight back for my greater self.
Greater self: The word itself resonates as a satirical joke on myself.
Where has been your greater self?
Let me rephrase it.
Has there ever been a greater self for you,Harsha?
You are nothing but the outcome of the inflated expectations that people have said just cause they had to say something.You are indeed that balloon that has always thrived on waste hot air.
You are that pimp outside a brothel who is projected as THE PIMP but in fact is a prostitute for THE prostitues.
What are you,Harsha.
You don't even have a proper ego.
Do you remember that jab that you had on your jaws in your first ear.
Does your blood still curdle at the thought of that fight.
Do you still know the taste of the blood that was trickling down your nose then.
DO you remember your failures Harsha.
Have you ever thought of replying back to those silent assassins,those vampires that have been sucking your pride since I don't know when.
Have you thought of living a life you want and even more a life you deserved.
When failures miraged you,you just stopped trying for those things.
Harsha tell me one major achievement that you can boast of.

Tell me a single milestone in your life that you can say you have put your blood and grit in.
Have you ever felt sweat trickling down your forehead,veins throbbing hard in your arms and eyes tired but still sparkling with the glow of success.

When Harsha when you would be the Harsha you want to be.
When would you stop this crap-a-homa.
When would you love your work.
When would you live your life.

I put 2 options in front of you:

First one being what all do.
Start loving your work.Start making starts.Get into the groove.
Respect everything cause with enough grit this is also the place where I have seen marvels happen.

And 2nd the path less travelled-Have faith,not in god but in your abilities,master perfection,infuse passion,be deaf not to the people but more importantly to your self.Kill that under achieving bastard in you.
And I dare you and beg you at the same time be that change that you have only admired.

One last question Harsha doesn't your blood still boil,you Bastard?


~Harsha

Photo Courtsey:

to fight or notby ~anatheme