Intimacy with my ink pot

Setting Free

2011-10-06T21:34:00.000-07:00

He raised his hand to hit maa again
Sitting in a corner, it seemed darker than it was
Setting free a storm, my rage and inner rain
I jumped, tore him apart with my adolescent paws

I suffered his cruelty, a lesser wage everyday
Worked harder than a labourer, because I was
So I snatched his unjust prosperity and ran to the bay
For more meals and sins for my tarnished jaws

I didn’t expect life to be dreamlike so soon
She was beautiful, charismatic, carefree like me
We used to walk for miles and lay silently under the moon
But I had to let her go, for me, by setting her free

Lands and cars and ample lush in my pockets
Today, I have everything I wanted, I do
Even unwanted guns, missiles and rockets
But what I don’t have is peace, pride and you

It’s funny how I am still trying, trying to set free
From this loneliness, regret and shameful me
That’s what I need, not wealth, land or sea
I need some help setting free from me.

I need some help setting free… from me.

- Adarsh Munjal
[6th October, 2011]

The State of My Fate

2010-04-07T06:50:00.000-07:00

Returning home filled with joy
Holding that honor up close
I was jumping around like a toy
Chanting those expressions of prose

The stage was glorifying, so was I
Anxious, teary, conceited and famed
Standing there wordlessly, I try
To thank, and acknowledge being named

“Upbringing four, bordered by grime
Maa died soon, separating the rest
Convincingly I indulged in crime
Wrecking the right, failing the test

I chose what she mumbled on her deathbed
Clutching those words to decontaminate
‘Destiny is choice, son; not chance.’ she said
And I laugh, upon the state of my fate”

While sitting on the couch I stare, I pry
What an irony for this memento to fray
I wish it wasn’t true, particularly the wry
“Well played, well played indeed.” I say

And I laugh again, upon the state of my fate.

Speed Deed

2010-02-13T00:42:00.000-08:00

Kicking into a rising rage
Striding under those glistening rays
A frigid storm shivers my cage
And I hustle in many, many ways

Speed conquers us, additionally me
Racing across that preventable spree
Influencing dual momentum, I see
Is it me, us, or is it thee?

Letting the cage loosen today
Shrieking into wind’s serenity
Streets on hills, heaps and the bay
Fuming and firing, oh what a pity

Melody sways along every turn
Lyrics add grief to mood’s play
Burn a li’l more beloved fury, burn
Time for my speed deed, I say

Letting my arms free into the air
Overcoming speed prevails its cause
I collide, I realize, I pity, I bare
As I lay there and I hit pause

And I hit pause.

- Adarsh Munjal
[13th February, 2010]

Lost Love Dire

2010-01-21T13:05:00.000-08:00

Tossing down flowers on the aisle
She looks at me with trusted glee
Oh adorable sinned juvenile
I wish you knew, but so not he

I was young and blooded then
Topping felony with another
Confessions were bedridden
And I was gone far, far, further

Returned with sacred insanity
Continued the tale of misery
All I had was culpability
Sulk, sorrow, self-pity

Lonesome gruesome decade
I tried exploring a career and me
Shaken steps towards your escapade
Not mere guilt, but you, soulful thee

Still unsure, unholy, unfaithful
I, lucky to find you, alas not he
Following was obvious yet dreadful
Unsustainable enough to renovate, to see

Accepting this final redundant bond
Still clueless, still vile, but so free
Grasping consciousness, I sit by the fire
Forgetting, forgiving our lost love dire.

Our lost love dire.

Needs V/S Wants

2009-11-17T21:43:00.000-08:00

Get your needs and wants right.
When your wants meet your needs, it's worthy.
Vice versa, it's going to be unnecessary, temporary and hurtful.

You might want it, but not need it.
Not one bit.

I LIE

2009-11-04T21:40:00.000-08:00

Up she goes, down she comes
Giggling aloud while she’d sway
Battered by my envy, she stumbles
Maa shrieks, I lie, a guilty day

Beginning to indulge in enticing sins
Puffing all the pressure by peer
As the hour dies, I write nothing
Paa enquires, I lie, a guilty year

When love turned to pitiful fate
Serene and unjust, it did fade
Dusting out those letters of deceit
Jaan weeps, I lie, a guilty decade

Sinking solitude into history’s dire
I bought bullets and its prior
“You’re gonna be fine, Dad” She called
I nod, I lie, a guilty fire

Uttering few lifeless words
I grasp upon an unknown shoulder
“Welcome to paradise, Shorty”
I try, I can’t, I let go of my moulder

I sincerely let go of my decaying moulder.
And I lie there forever.

- Adarsh Munjal
[5th November, 2009]

My life according to Coldplay.

2009-10-11T11:50:00.000-07:00

I took this quiz on Facebook recently and found the outcome interesting.
Thus, posting it here.
Enjoy!

Using song names by ONE ARTIST ONLY, cleverly answer these questions.

Pick Your Artist:
Coldplay

Are you a male or female?
Animal(s)

Describe yourself:
Bigger stronger

How do you feel:
Low

Describe where you currently live:
In my place

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Violet Hill

Your favorite form of transportation:
Strawberry Swing

Your best friend is:
The Scientist

What's the weather like:
Yellow

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
Life in Technicolor

What is life to you:
Trouble

Your current relationship:
A rush of blood to the head

Breaking up:
The Hardest Part

Looking for:
Daylight

Wouldn’t mind:
Amsterdam

Your fear:
Cemeteries of London

What is the best advice you have to give:
God put a smile upon your face

If you could change your name, you would change it to:
A message (Sandesh - if it's ought to be an Indian name. LOL. :P)

Thought for the Day:
"Now My Feet Won't Touch the Ground"

How would I love To Die :
Gravity

My motto:
Viva la Vida (Live the life)

- Adarsh Munjal

The Wealthy Truth

2009-09-18T15:34:00.000-07:00

You know what they say,
When you’ve not laughed at all
It’s the most wasted day
I see it, I’ll try, I shall

The way it’s trickling on me
It’s more than blood, much more
Happy is all I’m trying to be
I feel it, I’ll try, I lore

I’m eloping out of nothing
Stuck beneath the wrong right
If you can hear me, do something
‘Cuz I hear it, I’ll try, I fight

How could it surmount my soul?
Isn’t a thought an uninitiated deed?
I can’t find the water in my bowl
I can survive it, I’ll try, I feed

Eminent, loved and spirited – I was
Blind, numb, hungry and deaf – I am
Wealthy, wealthier, wealthiest – I was
Unfortunate, pitiable and worthy – I am

You know what they say, is true
The greed living, the man dying
And he has wasted many, many days
Oh, it’s true

It’s true.

- Adarsh Munjal
[0408 hours
19.09.09]

The Inner Voice

2009-05-06T09:39:00.000-07:00

Descending into the silence
I can hear the clock ticking
As I sit across the bathtub fence
My inner voice starts pricking

An unknown rage begins to rise
How can she do that – I think
Is this the negative me or the wise?
I drown my head into the sink

Staring at my own reflection
Noticing black spots on the mirror
I begin to initiate an undue notion
Now those thoughts, fated to be fewer

Placing the phone on my ear
I start cursing my heart out
You’re such a slut! – I tell her
I wrath, I hate, I cry and I shout

Punching into the brittleness
My blood soaks into the water
No voice now, just the quietness
It does, it definitely does matter

Now the mirror is spot-free
What did I lose or rather gain?
No, tell me, is this the negative me?
Here, the inner voice is back again

- Adarsh Munjal

Escalating

2009-05-05T06:42:00.000-07:00

The city possess two traits,
One on the road, other on the rise
With contrasting fates.

Each playing upon life’s dice
Protecting themselves with barricades,
From shabby cots of jute
To sharp metal gates

High, refined, wealthy and peaking
Still escalating for a further height.
Low, earthy, deprived and seeking
But escalating, to grab a bite.

Still escalating, to grab that daily bite...

The Death of a Dead Woman

2009-05-05T03:08:00.000-07:00

She had died.

She now lay on her back in bed, with closed eyes and calm features, and her white hair tied carefully in a knot, as if she had groomed it just five minutes ago. She had encountered death without any pain and regret, as she was a woman whose life was sacred and spotless. She was a nun serving the neighborhood church for decades, extending the learning of God. Her pale existence in the room was so peaceful that one could still feel that sweet soul which dealt in her body.

Two of her children sat besides the bed, on their knees, weeping over this unacceptable and unfortunate incident. Her son, Leonard, was a lawyer by profession and her daughter, Sister Emily, had followed her mother’s holy footsteps.

Their mother, from time of their childhood, had fortified them with firm morality, a religion without weakness and a sense of duty without any compromise. At present, the son possessing the weapon of law punished the weak and happily stuffed notes of corruption into his pockets, indulging into unforgivable mistakes in her mother’s opinion. While the daughter lived with the virtue that bathed her in this holy family, and also had become the spouse of God, through severe disgust with men of course.

The children barely knew their father except the fact that he left them when they were mere toddlers, increasing the amount of unhappiness in their mother’s life. The nun passionately kissed one hand of her dead mother, which hung down lifelessly, a hand of ivory like that of Jesus Christ in the church. While the son unfolded the other hand which was found grasping the bed sheet into a crumble, leaving behind small creases as a memento of those last moments before she slipped into motionlessness.

A few light footsteps at the door caused them to look up as the Priest entered the apartment. He had got the news just a few minutes ago while he finished his dinner, with a dash of Irish whisky poured into his coffee to vanish the fatigue, which unfortunately still escaped his breath into the air of the apartment. But he seemed to be really unhappy over this incident, unlike the usual-generated-sadness of the Priest for whom death is a livelihood.

He too sat besides the bed, made signs of the cross and chanted holy prayers in a very soft whisper-like tone. After commencing his professional gestures he said: “My poor children, I have come here to pass these mournful hours with you.”

But Sister Emily rose up and replied: “Thank you, Father. But I guess, it would be nice of you to let us spend these last moments with her, only the three-of-us. Just like the good old days, when…” A flood of tears had conquered her face and the sobs choking her, making her unable to complete the sentence.

The priest bowed down again and chanted a few prayers followed up with the cross-signs, but with an uncanny drowsy look on his face as he was thinking about his own bed.

“Just as you please, my child” he said.

And he rose and gently walked away, murmuring before stepping out:

“She was a saint. God bless her soul.”

The lawyer was still kneeled down with his head pressed against the bed sheet, in a very muffled and heartbroken voice he exclaimed: “Maa! Oh, Mamma! Say something Maa!” His sister was on her knees again, slightly banging her head on the wooden leg of the bed while they both slipped into a sorrowful fit of shrieks – “Jesus, Mamma – Jesus – Maa – Mamma!”

And both of them after being shaken by the storm of grief, huffed with an unsettling in their throats as the fit gradually seemed to subside. They now wept in a less violent manner.

They both went down the memory lane, recollecting all those sweet, benchmarking and special moments shared with her. They recalled various words, smiles, a few typical phrases she used and also this one movement of hand, peculiar to her when she spoke. By the end of it, they realized how close they were to her and they developed a feeling of love for her like never before.

After a while of soft-hearted silence, Emily stood up, placed her hands on her brother’s shoulders and said: “You know, Mamma used to always read her old letters. I think they’re all accumulated in that desk. Shall we read them, to refresh her life this night by her side? It would be kind of a road of the cross, like making the acquaintance to her journey of life.”

They withdrew a bunch of tiny packets of yellow envelopes which were placed together in the drawer. They scattered all these envelopes on the bed and started opening those envelopes, which had various titles engraved on the letters inside, such as: ‘My dear child’; ‘My beautiful little girl’; ‘My dear daughter’; etc.

The nun, Emily, began reading aloud the history of her dead mother while Leonard listened carefully with tearful eyes glued on her mother’s face. And the motionless face suddenly seemed happy and smiling.

After read a few letters, Emily got into an odd thrill and exclaimed: “We must put these envelopes in the grave with her! This is so pleasant and touching!” And then she picked up another envelope with no address or rather not a single word written on it. She removed the letter hastily and began reading it loudly.

“My darling”

The siblings exchanged a quick glare at each other.

“My adorable little sweetheart, I wish the amount of love I possess for you could be express in words. I know it was just yesterday when we met, but I simply could not resist writing to you. Since the time you’re gone, I’ve been in this turmoil of impatience and dullness, enforcing the craving for having you besides me even further. I can still feel the warmth of your breath, the passion of your eyes stuck on mine and I still have kept the taste of your kisses in my mouth. You’ve made me go mad! I love you! I love you! I…”

The lawyer rose up and his sister stopped reading. He snatched the letter from her hand and turned it over to seek for the signature at the end of it.

“He who adores you,
George.”

Their father’s name was Hector. He definitely was not the same man. Then the son, with a rush of blood by anger, rapidly explored that particular packet of envelopes and letters. He opened a few others which had titles like:

‘I miss you more than you can imagine’

‘I can’t live without you any longer’

‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to me’

Leonard crushed these sheets of paper, and stood up like a judge does, after passing sentence on a criminal and gazed at his sister’s face in a rage. Then he crossed the bed where her mother lay lifelessly, slowly reached the window, drew open the curtains and gazed outside thoughtfully while sunlight beamed into the room.

“Our mother is dead.” He said.

“Let us leave now, Emmy.”

[End]

*The following piece has been reframed.
Original source: 101 French Short Stories*

- Adarsh Munjal

Renovating

2008-08-03T02:38:00.000-07:00

Jumbled thoughts fencing inside,
How, when, what and why?
Sitting alone facing the sea
Experiencing the dual high tide

Unknown fury dwelling,
Accompanied by a weep
Thoughts maintain their existence
And the mess continues blending

The unnamed emotion peaks
Restless, puzzled and drained
Enclosing the atmosphere
Outside and inside, it finally rained

Awaiting the exertion, I rise
And I gaze at that tide again
With sweet silence and immobility
Untying the mysterious pain

I scream into the breeze
And explodes a splash,
Into the sea and in me
There I am, melting the freeze

That unknown emotion still existing
But here I am, renovating
Still renovating.

-Ady
(1st August,2008)

Atypical Transition

2008-08-03T02:22:00.000-07:00

A boy, unnamed
A little ignorant
A little lazy
And a little more than imperfect

Would misplace almost everything
Often himself as well
Very careless and forgetful
Wounded, and again he fell

Towel on the bed
Two different socks a pair
And never on expected time
Disoriented, unorganized and despair

Responsibility lacked existence
And so did his presence where necessary
Unappreciated, humiliated
Usually dazed and hardly merry

Up came the downfall
With sudden forced opportunities
Different city and finally responsibilities
Endeavor he shall

Incomplete approaching completion
Cocoon slowly exploding
Welcome atypical transition
Replace, alter and renewing

A boy, now a little named.

-Ady
(10th June, '08)

Lost Myself

2008-02-07T03:20:00.000-08:00

In this complicating cobweb
Caught between the trap of helplessness
An unknown rage is boiling
A different character within, is evolving

The puzzle seems to be easy no more
The glimpse of joy, existing no more
Crawling between the narrow ends
Escape seems to be possible no more

Am I trying to console myself?
Am I trying to hurt myself?
Is this insanity?
Why isn't anything in the sight of clarity?

Inumerable parts of me
Conquering the exterior of me
It's like a coating, an outer-shell
Am I ever going to be let free?

With folks I'm someone
With others a different somebody
It's my loss of individuality
I ask again, is this insanity?

Where am I?
Nowhere.
I have lost myself.
Within myself.

- Ady

The Beginning Of An Initiative

2008-02-07T02:36:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted to do this. I always wished to have a huge collection of "HINDI" DVDs with the huge pile of english DVDs overflowing out of my wardrobe! So today I took an initiative towards it instead of deciding to just keep wishing for it forever. Well, as this is the beginning I thought of not injuring my pocket too much, and going with the cheap DVDs from the Moser Baer "HINDI" collection (Except for "The Passion Of The Christ") . Here's a list of DVDs I purchased today (plus a many more to go):

Jab We Met
Johnny Gaddaar
Namaste London
Munna Bhai M.B.B.S
Dil Chahta Hain
Vaastav
Rang De Basanti
Lage Raho Munna Bhai
Golmaal
Josh
Fiza
Lakshya
The Passion Of The Christ
Kal Ho Na Ho
Mother India
Yuva

PS - Please ignore the 'weird' ones. I've been trying to figure out myself, why I managed to pick them up.

Ode To My Family by The Cranberries

2007-12-16T22:56:00.000-08:00

I have always loved you, papa.
But I've never been able to figure out the reasons beneath your hatred for me.
We stay together, but I still miss you..

This one's for you Dad.

Ode to My Family by The Cranberries [Lyrics]

Understand the things I say
Don't turn away from me
Cause I spent half my life out there
You wouldn't disagree
D'you see me, d'you see
Do you like me, do you like me standing there
D'you notice, d'you know
Do you see me, do you see me
Does anyone care

Unhappiness, where's when I was young
And we didn't give a damn
'cause we were raised
To see life as a fun and take it if we can
My mother, my mother she hold me
Did she hold me, when I was out there
My father, my father, he liked me
Ol he liked me, does anyone care

Understand what I've become
It wasn't my design
And people everywhere think
Something better than I am
But I miss you , I miss
'cause I liked it, I liked it
When I was out there
D'you know this, d'you know
You did not find me, you did not find
Does anyone care

Unhappiness was when I was young
And we didn't give a damn
'cause we were raised
To see life as fun and take it if we can
My mother, my mother she hold me
Did she hold me, when I was out there
My father, my father, he liked me
Ol he liked me, does anyone care

Does anyone care?

Teri Talaash

2007-12-03T22:59:00.000-08:00

In anjaan raahon mein,
Bejaan fizaaon mein,
Yeh sehmi-sehmi si aankhein,
Na jaane kisey dhundh rahi hain…

Un beetein hue palon mein,
Chotti chotti si galiyon mein,
Har waqt ki aahat mein,
Na jaane kisey dhundh raha hoon main..

Iss lambey safar mein,
Shor ke beech sanaatein mein,
Kagaz aur syaahi ki uljhi hui baaton mein
Na jaane kisey dhundh raha hoon main..

Meri Sisakti hui in saanson mein,
Rooh ki pukaar mein,
Yeh khaamosh zubaani mein,
Na jaane kisey dhundh raha hoon main..

Chubti hui in aankhon mein,
Gunjhti hui in raaton mein,
Bheegi-bheegi si yeh palkein..
Na jaane, kyun niraash hoon main..

Tu shaayad yahi hain,
Yahin-Kahin hain…
Lekin mere paas toh koi bhi nahi.
Kahin mujh mein hi kho gaya hoon main..

Teri talaash abh bhi adhuri hain..
Na jaane kisey dhund raha hoon main.

-Ady

Celeb-Similarity (Looks)

2007-11-29T09:12:00.000-08:00

http://www.myheritage.com/collage

Hatred

2007-11-26T00:18:00.000-08:00

Lying down with the most numb, empty and lost eyes…
The rhythm of my heartbeat has disappeared, yet it never dies.

The explosion of my fiery blood, thrashing into my pale veins…
I feel more helpless than a prisoner crowned by thorns, grabbed forcefully by chains.

The feeling of betrayal has left me trapped into walls of stones...
So dull, brittle, raw and echoes of agonizing moans!

The question WHY occurs repeatedly into my void mind…
Lot of inner-noise haunting me, nothing’s left for my deaf ears to find.

My soul’s ailing, baring sufferings n’ endurances through her rigid guns...
That soul aint no God, instead belongs to the race of humans.

I don’t want to abandon this esteemed journey of LOVE.
But how do I reciprocate this buried HATRED for her…

"I hate you."

-Ady

Pieces

2007-11-22T23:46:00.000-08:00

It all began when the sun of faith was going down
And we started wrapping stronger frowns

Those harsh words pierced my chest
In all silence; were my tears at rest

She doesn't love me anymore, that i know
And all my love, I couldn't even show

The body within had withered out it's life

She wasn't my love anymore; nor my lifelong lovable to-be-wife

I drowned into priceless memories and shed another

But all I wanted was her; entire lifetime further

Pieces; Picked one..

But shattered so tiny, could re-build none.

Could re-built none .

- Ady

Initial note

2007-11-22T23:36:00.000-08:00

Let me begin with the words i often land up writing on the initial page of every notebook.

"Likhu aaj kuch..

Yeh waqt ka takaza hain..

Dil mein dard, abhi bhi taaza hain..

Gir padte hain aansu mere kaagaz par..

Lagta hain, kalam mein syahi kam aur dard zyaada hain."