Death by choice

Image courtsey: the_wishing_pool_by_moni158

Yes Sahib, be patient soon we will have a view of the lions, said the mahaut (the elephant rider).
Sahib I was atleast in these woods and it felt good to be called so.

It was sheer cooperation that would have been the key.
As the sun became brittle and the westerlies were still moving we never thought that the jungles would still remain at their enticing best.
A few minutes ago the wind was playing havoc and I never knew that you would be even ready to move out for a round of fun exploring these lions.

You had been crappily irritating, but then that was then.
You nagged and made me realise that hell is very near and it all depends just on the partner you choose.
But yes that was all before.Days have changed is what they say.
I tried my best to not think of those days.

I can hear the birds flying suddenly, the packs circling as if they have the lead of something close.
The simple sounds of monkeys swaying from the gulmohurs is good enough to catch the excitement of any one.And for a group like ours which has been just to savour the pleasure of a lion feasting in front of us, this doesn't seem a wrong moment.
When Anita first told me of this safari I wasn't much excited.
Even the whole idea of trekking in the open on an elephant with just the mahaut and no other safety dint excite me.
She said that this would be our retribution, of going away from the past which was lonesome and scary.
When we had distrust and disregard for days at a a stretch.Maybe this was the reason for which we never had children.

But I never was the one who cheated. It was you and you alone who was with Romy, the so called Ramesh all these days.
On days when I used to cry for her she used to cry with pleasure while lying in the arms of him writhing like a snake.
The shame was too much and maybe the end was too small.
I gave her too much and yet wanted too little.

But after these years she seems to have repented of her sins.And when she asked me to come here I couldn't say no.
And once when I saw these jungles I couldn't say no.Spellbounded by the majestic thicket that they had.Light had diffculty coming down from the dense cacophony of trees.
Land lay moist of the marks of predators we shuddered even to think.And always the tranquil sound of the river flowing nearby.
I immediately fell in love with the place and all over again with Anita.
This was supposed to be my best vacation ever.

I don't know if this excuse was as lame as the others cause yesterday night I saw something which I shouldn't.Somehow her mobile lay near me and the urge was uncontrollable.Even the time when we were together she was virtually with Romy.Even the things I told her were going at the speed of light to him.They were having fun on behest of me.
This was more than enough with me exactly knowing what to do, now.

I had bribed the mahaut enough knowing that there are not many needs of poor men.
Now all that was needed was the arrival of lion.One small push and the rest would be history.Nobody would ever know how and what happened.The only thing known would be a vacation gone terse.
And lo behold what I see is not one lion but a pack of lions raging a war with hunger.
There have been cases of man eating animals and this was evident by the way they were charging towards us.
Just any second from now the lions would have their fill and I would have my revenge.
A small thud it would be and Anita would be what she is, nothing but a dead remorseless body.

Soon,the thud was heard and death was seen.There was a lot of tearing of flesh and gnawing of bones.The beasts showed why they were called the beasts in the first place.
Even before help could come the body was torn beyond recognition.

When the resuce team came nobody could tell what happened cause the plan was buried with the dead man, the man who was the progenitor of death was devoured by death itself.

Anita knew that even a poor man had needs and she had made sure that even his seven generations would live happily.The mahaut dint take time to change sides and to push the sahib off the elephants back.
Cause Anita had given him a lot more than money, she had given him a piece of herself as well on that day,now both were party to the crime.

Written for 3WW for the words: Cooperation, lame and terse

~Harsha

Sparks

Image credits: Spark Saw by *Burning2Sleep

See it is just that moment which begins with a spark and this and only this moment which can burn a nation like wildfire.
I was wondering why sometimes words fail me while sometimes unknowingly failure begets poetry.
I was breaking my head bad and mad all over me but whatever I wrote had to be deleted.
Nothing seemed to make any sense to me.It was just void, dull insignificant psychotic void, present but still insignificant.
Something that we all have become.From one angle we all feel  as if we have reached heights but then we all know the hollowness that we still live in.
It was this very moment where sense prevailed over absolution.
Something which came out pouring of my school prayers:
"Where knowledge is free and World has not been broken up.....into dreary desert sands".

I think freedom to think would embroil everything when we would be free to understand freedom.It is a misnomer of sorts, of discussions of debates.
I hate debates nowadays. I debate but I know that my debate is only as strong as the source from which I read my facts from.
And a lot depends on the facts fed into these papers.Cause what are facts but a winners carnage.
Anyways I somehow still am never satisfied by what I ever write.
But sometimes at least it is passable and sometimes people try to pass it and I know it stinks during those times.
But then still atleast still I am able to uncloth the reason of why, why sometimes we can write while sometimes words feel molested, mishandled.
And everything then fits into where t should fit.
It is that spark, that moment which makes the whole sense.
I would be happy if we all could bolster courage to copulate more with these sparks of ours.

~Harsha

Kasauli

What could actually be more beautiful than this place known as Kasauli.

I don't know what but there is something which just made me feel like going back home.

Not that as I have lived or loved in hill stations. Infact this was a first time for me.

But you see this place had that creepy smouldering effect on me as if I belonged here.

You could sniff the clouds right through your room inching from the windows.

A dab of freshness always lighting your rooms.

That cup of tea which tasted as the biggest single malt ever conjured. I remember those strolls clearing the clouds as I moved further.

My detours into the cobbled lanes. Breakfast being made on order. The luscious roads.

A place which made me feel that you don't need people to make you happy but happiness alone would make you happy.

I was not only reading my choicest of books on those mountains but all the books buried inside me were fluttering to come out.

The place made me realise the writer I was.

The long walks where I contemplated with nature and we both teamed up against me made me realise the beauty of solitude.

The railings still fresh with dew filled moss would make a killing for a location.

The place made me realise the traveller I was.

Of lands unknown of souls untouched.

Sitting with the locals and chatting over topics unknown.

Death was never so young and life never so morbid,

See there are times when you feel that insignificance is the highest level of significance.

That was one of those times.

I realized once more that you don't need a god to tell you what ought to be done but it is you and you alone who will be taming these so called gods and demons alike cause none of them ever existed and would never will.

You know how it feels when the distance rings of the songs that you never knew but always enjoyed, when peace prevails and you dont know that things existed, which could eat your fears your aspirations.

Days when you realise that there are things and people and feelings better suited better booted.

When you realise that you have a bigger calling than whatever big you ever dreamt of.

That was one of those days.

Kasauli we will meet more often.

~Harsha

sidekick's lifetime

Image courtsey:'The rocket bile' by Zafs91

Life has been a sickening sidekick all along.

I cant fathom whether it is the joy of working, or waiting for constant reshuffles.

Whether it was the incorrigible studying where layer by layer I was peeled.
Starting from the start where every class was worshiped and every exam dreaded. I hated going to school at 8:00 in the morning, entering late just to be kept waiting in the ground for the prayer to be over and then the public shame of running in the field.
Slowly the dread turned into distrust and then into arrogance.
I never knew when I left studies.The thirst got doused albeit instantly.
It was just a simple rising when I wanted to study no more.The classes progressed as usual, my age multiplied with the same clanks but the only difference was that I dint study any more.
Looking back I think that I was intelligent atleast to sail through cause I actually sailed through.
I saw friends being completely written off while some of them standing at pedestals which were considered so big that we saw them as cheap.
But somehow I survived.
Life moved on but the ailing sidekick still grew stronger.

Love, it was even a bigger vice. 
It shone its head whenever it got chance and I with open arms kept on getting bitten by it only for the sheer pleasure of the process.The process which itself was so finicky and so unplanned that the subtle chaos kept me on toes.I even loved the prospect of crying as it kept me grounded in a dream world.
My heart changed hands many summers.
For most of the parts I kept on pushing it from table to toes.
People rarely seemed interested in what they were holding, sometimes they even forgot that this small thing was supposed to be pumping blood in someone's veins although naughty in its forbearance but still the progenitor of life.
But then I was happy just with the fact that it was moving and hence could pump more of the elixir.

Maybe this wasn't the end.Job changed hands. Sometimes for good and sometimes for bad.I kept on converting the sad times to happiness.The conversion was so varied that one presence almost paled the other. Scams and sagas were written all over.Job security became a misnomer and uncanny abilities a reality.But with this came new people new friends and new love.
Adored stranded and uncalled I took everything.
This again delved deeper into phase 2 of my studies.
But then this was something that I loved and for this I had my sword all cleaned and brandished.
I had sharpened and filled my quiver long enough to last till the end of Duryodhana's deatha and Arjuna's penance.
This was the time when melancholy too started feeling happy.

Time seems to have moved a 360 degree turn again.
All has always been so fast that rarely I ever thought about them.
Maybe because of this I never cared and before the impact could happen I moved on to a newer realm.
But now when I sit stay and think I realize that this unceremonious exit, this winding end that distant dream were everything which cut the pain, tranquilize the soul.

Makes me realize now that this sickening sidekick has been a companion however much I hate it.
Only this effervescence would be permanent.

So once again I don my cape and tie my robe to go disorient some one with my fidgeting sickening sidekick.

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Written for 3WW : This week's 3WW are Douse, Naughty, Pale

The hero

Courtsey: The Warrior ~by Nuhuup

I seriously thought that the race was over.trophies spluttered the drawing rooms of those odious clans.
All this happened when I kept on walking in the empty rows collecting scrumps of food left by viewers who had been watching the race.
This day was not any different.after my mental scribbling I folded my baricades to sanitise myself again to victory.
This was then that somehow I felt anguished on the death of heroes.and it was not heroes alone who were dead,but also dead were the romantics,the go getters and the idealists.
The gentleman I once knew who offered his seat to ladies,his smile to kids and support to the needy now acted as if grotesqued by his own appearence.


He seemed dead now.


But then why had I killed him,maimed him beyond recognition.
His sautered wounds still throbbing kept glancing those awkard silences at me.
And then I realised that this day had to be different and not only different but awesome.
Why should I think myself as a second fiddle to myself.the bromide has caught me too soon and too much.
But now it had to die and not me.


Enough is a word which when used threatningly can make one reach unimaginable proportions.
Now I had everything although with crippled limitations but even then everything.then why now I don't romance the way as the protagonist of those movies.why I don't find myself as the leader moving further in his office but as a man who would wait for instructions to be thrown at.


The time has come for me to die and for the hero to rise again,from my ashes,yes if he demands so but then he has to rise, alone.

~Harsha

sanity

Courtsey:-sanity is dead by Vickie666

"What are we with the end of end.said he as he silently moved out of the room."

A disbelief froze in front of the tyrants,of those who lived on poaching ideas,succumbing to asymmetric synergies.

A bigger question now gapes through the wound.Has it to be perfection that will control happiness or is it the half satiated ego always yearning for more.

Is it the greed,the lust which has consistently pulled us off our tethers or is it the same irrevocable lust, the sneering disdain which would eventually keep us sane.

Soon it was felt that sanity was the most disillusioned word ever created.

In the garb of sanity we as a collective are promoting the lack of action.action which has been lost over the horde of thoughts.where when every night we tuck ourselves in bed with the satisfaction that we have achieved what we could have.we have belied what was ours.

The one line had spoken volumes and if even know we are proud to be sane then nothing can actually move us,from this death.

~Harsha

that world

sky_house_by_matrix

Aye the naysayers have suddenly started speaking,

And as we held the days they squirmed and squished

But were we going to leave them, no not really.

Leave we did, the happiness the willow

The chatter and some fights with the pillows

The harvest lay dead between puddles of blood
 Betrothed crown, lost jewels torn gown

Are not signs of despair but of power

Of the idea that the real power exists but not here

That the real minds dwell but not here

As the gong strikes ten and

when even hickory dickory dock would be striving for a pen

It would be then just then

When we would be weaving poetry out of thin air

Falling like a deck of carcasses peeled lair by lair

And then those tongues will wag and the tails would sway

Cause oozing stories would belittle sexual fantasies

Happiness would be the malaise and forlorn songs the maladies

Entwined together as bodies with uncles and aunties squirming in their undies

Would we be liberated, maybe, but would they be liberated, definitely

The more the vulgar the shows become the greater a belly now can the audiences fathom

Tarts would no more be misnomers, eunuchs would be respected

Being gay would be vanity, and same sex marriages a sanity

Religion would then no longer be an obligation

Capital would have let gone the punishment

The word rape would only be left in role plays

Mediocrity would create a new merit

Cause happiness wont be subliminal

As and when this happens the world would be out of its rucus

Sadness would not be an alibi

and democracy no more a nude show on exbii

then the thwarters would thwart and critics be criticized

cause that would be then when we would be damned

A hullabaloo of suggestions would now no more be a commotion
A battle of emotions now no more a shame

Infatuation no more a joke but instigation, yes it would definitely be a joke

We would hold hands cause holding hands and kissing wont be a disease

Your caste my caste wont cut us even if we don’t taste the same

Yes our votes may exist with differential agreements like fluid and flame

Bellowing will and wallowing vessels cause my darling

Then  , then someday we would be damned, damned till oblivion

Aye the naysayers have suddenly started speaking,

~Harsha

Written for 3WW