Some strokes from life

Okay, before you people judge me, please note that your’s truly is a person of words, a writer by profession, and has never gone through any art training in his life. So apologies to the hurting eyes of the ones with evolved tastes and likings.
But just like singing, and tapping of feet, drawing come naturally to all of us. The good, bad or ugliness is of course individual.
So here are few of my afternoons and evening of nothingness, but an art pad and HB lead graphite pencil 🙂

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Awkward. And uneasy…

Uneasy thoughts crawl through my spine
Let it go, let it be
I say, I scream
Unscathed it moves back and forth

Dark as death
Blue as the unhealed wound
The uninvited makes way into the mind
Liberated, uninhibited it walks naked

Marking territory, it’s marking its territory
All over my dead face
As a single song plays deadpan in the head
Laughs pointing its dirty fingers at me

Reminders of the past days
Baggage of the future
Suffocate the present
As it all passes by slowly

Hovering around the corner is a known face
Leering behind it are the known mistakes
The moment when life gets busy giving others a fuck
Silence fills in the room with the stench of awkward truths

Make it your scent
Wear it wherever you go
Let people know
Where you have been and where you will go

Seeking solace in meaningless words
Fighting uneasy urges
Making way through the crowded alleys
My face in awkward strangers

The Pursuit of Happiness. Step 3 – The Rebellion

Most of us were rebels when we were teens. And most of the time it was without a cause. In retrospection, we can blame in on the hormones, and move on with our set life & lifestyles.

But what do you say when a guy, who’s speeding head-first towards mid-life crisis, suddenly turns rebel. A rebel against almost everything in his life. When he starts questioning every basic thread holding his ‘culture’ & ‘society’ together. When everything that he has worked for, for the last 7-8 years seems worthless & unimportant, and when he knows in his heart that it’s time for a radical shift in his personality, profession & outlook to life. What do you say to such a person who just can’t f**king care less.

That person is me. And I’m bloody pissed at everything right now. And I want a change. A radical change, and NOW. I want a dictator who can put things right in this country. I want a joint entrance exam for politicians to enter and run this country. I want quotas to be ‘Financial Status’ based & not ‘Caste’ based. I want hardliners to be shot dead, and I want me to be a part of the shooting squad. I want people to wake up to the RTI rule & start using their rights. I want men to start feeling scared of women and know what we have been doing to them for this long. I want cricket to give way, and people to honk less. I want people to give way to ambulances, and dogs to have a better life.

But more than that I want to get my life in control. To make a difference, and not just by making the logo bigger. I want to get all my good men together and set them free. I want to be able to be more than a corporate stooge. I want to do good work, not just hard labour, and I want to do it at my own time. I want to have a say over my own time, and get rid of imbeciles sitting on top of my head and dictating terms. I want to keep the writer alive and kill the man-hour counting revenue chasing idiot. I want to keep the child alive, and kill the man. I want to be curious and kill the smug know-it-all jackass who keeps talking in my ear all the bloody time.

And to achieve all of the above, I am shedding my baggage and moving on. I’m letting go of the fear of failure, getting over this comfort level of a ‘JOB’, mocking the ‘it should be like this’ culture. In the worldly sense, I’m all set to be an irresponsible bum. I don’t care anymore. I want my life back, the one that inspired me to paint all afternoon long and sit by the lake watching snakes play in the water alongwith small fishies. I want my sun-coloured days back. I am done being grown-up. I wanted it, I had it and today I know that it pretty much sucked big time.

Besides, what’s the point? It’s all the same everywhere. Buildings full of handicapped faces, suffocating, dying in handicapped spaces. So, that’s it. I want my voice back, so that I can scream out loud when I want. I want my legs back, so that I quit crawling and run out whenever I want. I want my eyes back, so that I see more than a cabin space and artificial lights. I want my soul back, so that I can talk to it once more. I want my balls back, so that I can start taking calls on my terms.

This life of corporate diligence and dexterity is not for me. I am going back to being rebel. I am going back to everything nice in my life. So if you want to join me, c’mon in boys, the water is just fine :)-