EMAHO

10th October, 2015: Dad is on leave and "beti ki shaadi karao" wave pressure is hitting high wavelengths. The true Indian mom: Sab ko naa, sab ko naa!! Kab tak humare upar bojh bane rahoge? Shaadi toh karni hi padegi. Aaj shaam ko ladka aa raha hai dekhne, aap yeh sab natak karke humari izzat mat uchhalo. Phalane Phalane logo ne bhi shaadi nahin ki, dekhi hai unki haalat abhi? (Tears following the melodramatic convincing) A true Indian dad: Beta, don't behave like that. You are educated and grown up. I expect you to handle things in a better way. A true Indian daughter who feels marriage isn't her cup of tea: In logo ko time kaise mil jata hai aise ladkiyo ko dekhne ka? Aap logo ko bhi bada interest hai ladkiya dikhane ka. Jiska jo hona hai ho. I know what I want to do with my life. Aur yeh shaam ko jo aa rahe hai, aane do unko, batati hu. Idhar kya koi "antique shop" khulva rakhi hai ki log aaye aur antiques dekhe aur reviews deke nilami kare? Th...

You are conscious, semi-conscious and comatose. My insanity of thoughts definitely has a swirling impact on you. I am curious. Why do you reciprocate with such sanity, when there is none? None.

Lemniscate is our fate and so are the certain arcs that frame us together in a loop, infinitely.  The first scene of the movie moans the life to emotions of Devi. Indeed, making love is an art and the curiosity of all the senses within us proposes it all. Vulgar is the way the world accepts it. Vulgar is the notion when it is not bound to commitment. Vulgar it is when it is made public. Vulgarity lies in the secrecy of it. It was love, undeclared. It was love, that died. The sensibility of portraying sexual encounter is so intact that it galvanizes the awkwardness felt by a couple when they make love for the first time, in close association to reality. The morality of cheap thoughts emerges when it is spitted on the character of Devi, "tumhari zindagi toh condemn ho gayi" after the police intrudes in their private space and films her nude.  As the plot progresses, the sheer simplicity expressed by Deepak as he falls in love with Shaalu takes us along to a diff...

WHAT IS RESERVATION? Reservation is a quota-based affirmative action which is governed by constitutionall laws, statutory laws, and local rules and regulations. Scheduled Castes (SC), Scheduled Tribes (ST) and Other Backward Classes (OBC) are the primary beneficiaries of the reservation policies under the constitution. A 21 years old affluent and influential face that has emerged as a powerful weapon of mass upheaval, is named Hardik Patel. Through a moustache on that young face and the rage in his eyes, I am surely supporting the cause of his leadership qualities which is capable enough to assemble a crowd of 25 lacs, stand on a stage and challenge the political system, let cause massive burn-out of public property, political figures and government servants by an arrest. Some might oppose me here with, "He is just the face and real game is being played elsewhere." I exalt, "It takes a lot to just be a face, in such situations."  On my political understanding, this...

They were. He loved her hands, much beyond astonishment. He loved her feet, much beyond splendid exceptions. She hated him, for everything that was not. She loved him, for all that counts unusual on a strong bond. There was passion that was not bound to the pleasures of the Cubist aesthetics. There were emotions to never depart, without the allegiance of thoughts. Still, they were. They were, eternal. Eliciting awe.

On the realm and thrust of musical energies, we can evoke life to the speed of our neural transmission through synapse, constructive damage caused on impact, amount of recovery framed in our id-ego-superego, and sometimes the range of loneliness. Trance: Acid, electro, dream,, psychedelic, progressive, futurepop, hard, goa, neo, uplifting, vocal and trances fusions. Blues: Afro, classic, bluegrass, british, country, contemporary, dirty, electric, Memphis, soul and R&B. Dayum, Hadouken.

Music is the soul and structure of our human existence and we all have varied choice to let in our ears to groove in our hearts. Music has developed through many genres and has been greatly influenced by the age of times, culture, traditions, musical instruments, languages, dance forms, individual identities of the emerging artists and the zeal to celebrate life. One such form of music which has always been stereotyped to melancholy and depression is the “Blues”. The lyrics of Blues is most of the time narrative to the enslaved selves, the social taboos and evils, lost romance, heart-broken and ditched love, gambling, magic, sacred ambiance, the racial dilemmas and the hard times the artist sees the world through. Having its origin to the Igbo people who are indigenous to Nigeria, this genre of music is based on African-American sub-dominant relationship. Blues can be considered both as a genre and musical form due to its versatile existence with country music, R&B, rock and r...

Uncontroversially, "Let's go Feminist" "Let's go Feminist" is a statement that would stimulate many manly ears, followed by seriously stirred and intellectual mockery. I so support that mockery because it is in the straight face. These feminist creatures are just a misnomer, same as saying that King Crabs are crabs but they aren't crustaceans. In simpler words, they are what they are but they aren't feminists. 1) She calls herself the Lady Gaga of Hip-Hop, goes to a pub which is playing "House". She tweets about how the "House" was her Hip-Hop. Why only the "man" DJing be confused about her choices of music? She, herself has the same right because she is a woman. 2) She would compete with the growing beards of guys around by pouting. Her lips might end up hanging loose if she doesn't loose that competitiveness, but why only men should have secondary features growing and hanging on their faces. 3) She can force...

I turned back to look at him and held my breath for he was making my heart palpate..I was being selfish because I needed that smile of his as mine forever..I stood intact and he was already walking towards me..Saw him so close and had the urge to close my eyes for him to kiss them..He held me by the waist, pulled me closer and looking deep into my eyes expressed,"Lets do some salsa rumba" ..  I have been dancing since then..on (Authorised Fiction).. 

As the world has moved ages ahead on modernity and practical indulgence, there are people who are held into the traditional system of love that as quoted by Robert Browning says, “Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!” We see our parents happily committed to their silent romanticism and comparitively we see ourselves struggling to understand eachother to fall apart when it is the time to commit on extreme phobia. We are loud and insecure to paste ourselves on social sites to prove that we are together and we are emotionally close. We look for gliterati and show-buzz in framing relationships. Love is seen as a restriction and the zeal to hold onto it as a burden. Nobody wants solutions but they are stuck onto the fact of self-fulfillment. It is a tick marked business now which examines compatibilty in the nam...

I am finally smiling my guts out even when I am all alone and feeling the happiness with smallest of the ventures. Getting up early, watching the birds before I meditate has become blissful. Rushing to the hospital everyday and trying to reach before 9:30, life has become a crazy time-deadline where I am just not letting a nick slip off my hands (Lapse of a second can cost someone a life). I smile at everybody whom I walk across because it spreads so much of powerful optimism within, especially when I am returned with a smile too. Knowledge which is the core of my existence has turned large-hearted on me as there is so much to learn and know when you deal with people.  I have reached home half an hour back with a thought of meeting my writing project's deadline. I have a plate of rajma and rice lying on my study table with a cup of tea which has gone cold. I am writing a blog and I am texting my freinds whom I missed communicating whole week. I am grabbing few spoons of my di...

She stood at a conclusion which was forked to the same existence which got up from deep sleep whenever it rained.  There were butterflies in the stomach on random thoughts and it just implied that she was given a strong will of genuine acceptance-of the world and the mocking life.  She slipped off the barren mountain and with the free falling motion saw the cold-hearted rocks standing still. A jolt to reality induced immense fear as she fell on the ground nearing the closed eyes.  The ground had grass and she survived. She saw the massive rock with extended neck and smiled, "It isn't so easy with me. I will tell you stories the next time".  By what it said,"Bygones are bygones. Our lives are entwined."

Always fascinated by "replication" in genetics and curious about the science behind it, I was rebounded by humans who are "replicas" living in denial. There is always substance of honour in being what you are and what you arent. Individualism is the word and I believe that all of us are born to be our ownselves, absolutely whatever we are. But in the quest of being noticed and seeming all different than normal or being someone who isnt themselves, few fellow humans start picking up thoughts, words, behaviour, attitudes and lives of others to stuff in their own and take credit of being a unreal hero or heroine. It is like someone who is everybody else but not what he or she can be, disregarding the originality of existence. It is like an orange lying in the fridge for ten days who is trying to look like the mango hanging on the tree.  Having come across random aspiring female writers who add random content writing guys saying "He is brilliant and I w...

I was unhappy with myself, blamed, cribbed, complained and fretted over almost everything.  I didn't like to see the mirror because it made me look ugly. I was seeing myself as perfect and detested reflections. I swung abuses and hurtful words because I "thought" my silence isn't working. I was raged, held grudge, I judged and was tactlessly blunt.  I cried being short-tempered because I needed sympathy from people. I went to the beach to see the dirt, neglecting the vastness of the gorgeous sea behind. I was not letting go being insecure. Nothing was enough. I fought to get what I "thought" I deserved. I was creating blues. (self-destruction) I was rebounded, fell flat on my face, was kicked, was spitted upon and mocked upon ruthlessly. I laughed, "Oh!!, this life does give birthday bumps on no birthdays at all." ;) I was enjoying the mess. (acceptance) I looked at the world around, had an insight, accepted the re...

It was a dark room with grandeur of creativity, The poet sat with a pen and read through his own lines, He was depicting the depth of emotions held within, He stared at the contemporary aura outside, Struggling to find more depth, With the pen name, he died. “Gila hai, shauq ko” -Mirza Ghalib.

She held herself back from falling weak in the thoughts but broke the chain feeling nostalgic today..She made a call which was left unattended and as she sighed, her mobile buzzed on vibration..Yes!!,he called back.. She calmly said,"If you don't recognise my voice,it's me here" and he replied,"I do recognise your voice"..The silence had set it's aura and it seemed that the two were looking deep into each other's eye being very close in proximity to each other..There was a sudden and strong sensation in each cell of their bodies..The silence was getting louder and emotions were getting silently bold.. He finally initiated to conclude the depth of belonging by "Thank you for the call..Take care of yourself"..She gathered herself back and smiled with moist eyes as she witnessed the silent conversation end.. They curled into themselves as they felt the silence wear off as soon as the call was disconnected,as their souls felt that pain..

She tried to bound herself but she was always set free to spread her wings..

Be in the world, materialistic clutch or the self. I would deliberately pull away and it wouldnt be romanticism, it would be me breaking free off the moment. I would snap back in the present keeping the distance away. You would see me standing happy away from you, you would curse me on the outside because you are unable to loose yourself away and I always manage to drift off. That is how I define detachment, n., "Being in the moment and not being in it the next". It is like keeping the sentence incomplete mid way or keep staring at the presumed half-painted wall in the dark or withdraw when you are about to kiss him with closed eyes. It is terrible. These incomplete things are terrible.  Amidst your grave thoughts, I would think about you and cherish the undetached moments. Atleast, I wouldnt keep you on the blind side. I wouldnt let you know but I would glance back at you in the opposite direction standing afar, unapologetically. I would want to hold interactio...

Intellect knew no romance and it was said that introverts couldn't express the internal art. The scientism was said to be pale and didn't define the law of nature.  There was a gorgeous dilemma when the transparent air reflected the blue colour of the sea and the sun dipped red through the distinct horizons. The prism described the colours with wavelengths and depth. There were waves of low and high tides after the sun set. The waves that left sand on the feet as the water on the shore subsides. There were massive ships that anchored the depth of considerable heights. As Isaac Newton expressed, "What goes up must come down.”

Explicitly, the masculinity being talked about here has a great eye for women viz in all sizes, age and colours. That isn't how I would define females, but he surely does in varied desperation (Desperation to talk, text, touch and go). ;-)  He notices the tattoo on her neck to the nail paint on her toes from far distance. A charming walk, impressive use of words, patience on ears as his groin sweats and pseudo passionate eyes to kill her(s) emotions- hunting tools to be used repeatedly. Well!!, as monotonous as his need from women.  He loves images which flash womanly flesh with social media to neighbours as his territorial expertise. Well!!, women do want to feel appreciated on mass hysteria. :-D I don't blame the pitch as law of attraction states the need of immense attention and obviously the hunter knows it all. A maestro who can design a connection with three women at a time, he is the best example of time management and quality organisation. He drifts on and off his emo...

Einstein was riding on his bike in a planetarium and had an insight about wormholes. By relativity he went to the shore to evaluate the open space.. On positivity and negativity of stance, he saw a kite flying amidst the loud lightening from the dark clouds.. As he calculated the concept behind the scientific curiosity, Franklin Bejamin introduced himself and made him fly the kite.. As the lightening struck (being a bad conductor of electricity) Einstein accidently got that hairstyle.. #EinsteinontheBeach..

"I have not been handicapped by my condition. I am physically challenged and differently able." - Janet Barnes - recognized as the longest living quadriplegic incomplete (Guinness World Records) There is pity, sadness, grief and sense of incomplete existence when we look at people who are termed as "crippled" by many of us who are not one amongst them. Does anybody even think of going further than the accumulated thoughts of our own mental blocks towards their physical challenges? We would all chuckle to a "NO" because we find ourselves too superior and fulfilled in every aspect of life. Ohkay, lets talk about HELP-POTRAIT and it's relation with our subject-matter. It is a world-wide event conducted on every first saturday of December where all photographers, hairstylists and makeup artists will find people in need, take their pictures, print their pictures and deliver it back to them-free of charge. Just clicking the photographs was a little...

14 billion years of human kind and it's evolution on cosmos-visualising the dark space erupting with bright speed of colors under gravity and powerful projection. Imagine the universe as the most massive and dense structure with yourselves floating beyond the troposphere. Imagine no spiral and elliptical galaxies as we remodeled them to 5D octagons where each side and corner has different species of genetically altered homo sapiens. Some with lesser libido and some with extreme masculanity of wearing tattooed jewelry. Imagine Jupiter spinning cold and hot when you touch it with bare hands. Imagine a roller coaster ride on the rings of Saturn. Imagine Pluto closer than the unimaginable light years. Imagine the Big Bang Theory happening again and making Earth the new Sun in the system. Imagine stars going dark and the sky reflecting bright. Imagine "Gravity' and "Interstellar" being hybridised by the scientists from Mars. Imagine your eye-lashes longer than the h...

Health care sector is a field where there is no chance for rectification because human lives are involved and people come to hospitals because they are already suffering. Having experienced the current organisation, I have learnt the most out of the declared sense of immense power-"middle level managerial position, being an administrative head or leading major revenue generating departments in the hospital" at this young age. It is about having a position where many others would aspire to be. Short things first, "What glitters, isn't gold"..;-)..When the interviewers (CEO, Centre Manager and HR Manager) say that they are expecting a highly motivated employee who would make a change-"It just means that in coming span of your life you would be taken in for a high toss". I swear, in the span of two hours I had started feeling the jolt. No in-house consultants, improper infrastructure, lack of consulting cabins, scattered resources, wierd employe...

She has the most colorful, breezy and abstract trunk of clothes. Her tresses are always tied into a casual bun that don't go well with her over sized aviator which cover the deep koeled eyes. There is always a bag on her shoulder having strange vibe of archaic things. A rusted book about bold ventures, wierd anklets, rusty earrings, beautiful scarfs, often a small copper box with some Mary Jane and bundle of forgotten cash in the chain. Unusually by her stance, she turns heads around on her. A deep shallow thinker, she spends hours lucid dreaming. Her cheeks are always puffed due to the sleeplessness as she spends the night gazing at the stars and wondering Mayan. She blows it all away in the smokes and fags. She isn't always intoxicated but is intoxicating by her worldly intellect. She is just fine as a woman and finer as an existence. She isn't street smart but glows. She just lives the way she lives. She wears her own boho.

The wind beneath my wings.. The smoke through my synapse.. They said not to smoke up the joint without the roach for it burns your kisses and jitters the touch which may give goosebumps on her skin.. I mean, the joint without the roach wouldn't let the resin hit the orgasmic trip.. Roach is the real cannabis experience because it saves your lips and fingers for the next joint..  High, hyper, hippie.. Roach and TDC.. (Purely fictional as the writer doesn't smoke up)..