The Capture!

“You don't make a photograph just with a camera. You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.” 
― Ansel Adams

COME FIND ME!!!!

Come, find me. If I am to be found...

Lost in the translation of intuitive dreams to oblivion...

Do I always have to say it? The ridiculousness of psyche.

Better escape to wander more from self-recognition

Waiting under the invented serene tree, for becoming comfortable in discomfort...

Violent, cruel, pitiless, brutal, sadistic... INSENSITIVITY!

Are you coming? I can kill you... maybe no, but yes! I hate to be found.

I didn’t know what I was doing, neither do I know now and I hate to explicate too.

Who you are to me? I won’t talk to you... you say things I don’t say to myself.

I look beautiful when I go out, but so ugly too... you know how I hide that undercoat of blood? No you don’t! How can you... I don’t talk to you... I think I have beaten you in this game, maybe no. But I don’t care.

Don’t you dare come near me? I am trying to find peace or maybe no I am not. But I don’t want your fucking peaceful words of sanguinity. GO FUCK YOURSELF you peace of filth.

I command you to never impel me to reveal my demon... I suppress it because I like to over-rule it.

Your fucking sanity gives the impression of being insane to me... I don’t want to confess my anguish... I don’t even want to confess that I don’t want to confess. STAY AWAY!

Your concern over my potential rub up the wrong in me... I go madder or maybe maddest within self. I become immoral than you can ever even think of. I won’t admit that you know me; I hate you and your fucking sweet God like understanding.

Biting nails unpleasantly and even the pink soft skin till I realised I am eating my own self. I know you want me to realise that. BUT SHUT THE FUCK UP! I WILL DO THAT, MAYBE NEVER OR MAYBE SOMEDAY; BUT I DON’T KNOW WHEN. AND DON’T EVEN THINK OF ASKING ME.

I am trying to behave wise... I think for moments I realise it... The conscious and sub-conscious meet for moments but for how long I wonder. WHAT IF IT WON’T BE LONG AND I WILL LOOSE EVERYTHING AGAIN? Is that’s what you crave? Because you don’t have a fucking idea of how fucking scared I am or maybe I am not... I’ll think about it. But there is something which stops me, AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS!!!

Don’t try to talk to me and fondle me with your care... I DON’T NEED LOVE; I DON’T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY. WHY CAN’T YOU JUST STAY NORMAL? Or even if you stay normal I don’t give a fuck. I JUST HATE YOU.YOU BETTER NOT EXIST. But that’s not in your hands, that’s why I IGNORE YOU!   

But I guess I know what you want... but why don’t you understand it’s not easy or maybe if you do then why don’t you help me the way I want you to. I know I scare you and repress you and hold you deep back inside and make you numb BUT YOU ARE ME.

 You can’t lose. YOU JUST CAN’T LOSE!

I think I am just a thought! Not a reality. I have to meet myself. I don’t know when but I will. I WILL MEET YOU! TRY TO FIND ME. I ALLOW YOU DEMON! COME FIND ME. I FEEL ASTRAY!

I feel!

And then I sat there for hours, not that I wanted to but because I wasn't able to feel my feelings anymore... the only thing I could feel was blood... blood raging in my brain over n over again. Like I was some deceased body and that hustle of blood brought me back to senses every time.

I tried to think something, but I was wedged to nonbeing... that numbness was so surreal that maybe my conscious would have felt scared but no one was conscious there.. That dead drop silence was stabbing my ears like that maddening echo of water droplet... like that echo of lizard in the dark... like that echo of timepiece.

I have felt numbness earlier but certainly not like this where I can’t even feel that I can’t feel. Then abruptly I feel something... like thousands of eyes are scrutinizing me n I am in the center of them. Like that bottomless black water hole in the middle of the ocean where you fight to survive but sink instead.

I overlook that feeling slickly because I am connoisseur in that. I move my hand down and rip off my clothes. I feel the wetness in between my legs and start stroking myself. I like that sound and hotness and wetness.... I pinch myself brutally so that I could feel the pain but I fail... I knock some more mercilessly... I turn hotter n red n wet ... I begin to feel pleased... my legs and veins become stiff... my hands pain... I feel the pain but I don’t hold back... I stroke n rub n fondle myself more n more until I drew blood on my hands... Then I pick up a wooden stick n stab it deep down until I feel deaden with pain. With pleasure comes a beautiful pain and that’s all I feel. I feel contented when I see blood running down through my legs... I identify my feelings eventually. 

Jaante hai hum bhi!

Ese tabaah hue bethe the jese maut cchu k nikal gai ho, mayusi itani ki jese kabrr par paav padne se pehle hi billi rasta kaat gai ho, hare nahi the puri tarah… par jeet bhi nahi paa rahe the… itani mushkil nahi zindagi hum bhi jaante the, sabke kandhe pe dukho ki bori hai hum bhi jaante the… par aaj us macchaan pe bethe the jahan mehnat haar jaati hai… Hazaro sapne dekhe bethe the hum bhi sabki tarah… par ek sapne ki aag dil me jalae bethe the, par duniya valo ki kya btae_chale aaye uspe bhi gangajal chidakne.

Jante hai hum bhi ki mana lenge is baar bhi khud ko… ek haar or jud jaegi jama-khatte me… jee hi lenge is baar bhi jese ajtak jeete aaye hain… lekin ye haar ka darr bhi to badi bhayank chiz hai, jab lagta hai to raat ka intezaar nahi karta… or fir har baar ye dukh cchupaya bhi to nahi jata; aansu to chupa lenge… bacchpan se chupate aaye hain… par is dafa haarna nahi chahte… bharose k saath saath jaan bhi nikal jaegi. Bas isilie bethe hain is tarah…!!

Us khidki se..

Us khidki se dhoop aya karti thi, aaj bhi aati hai par ab chubhti hai.. raat ko soye the chadar se lipat k, socha tha k naya sawera milega… jab aankhe khuli to paya vahi kaali raat hai abhi… na janne kya dekha tha un aankon ne, bheegi hui thi halki si.. us chaand ko dekha to kuch keh raha tha.. uski vo roshni kuch kehna chahti thi.. jese bta rahi ho ki har raat me ek roshni hoti hai.. har zindagi me khushi hoti hai. Tum chaho to bas raat hi samjho.. magar  tum chaho to roshni bhi dikhegi.., har karvat ek ehsaas dila rahi thi,.. jese sab kuch aata jata rahega safar me fir dheere dheere gehri neend bhi aaegi. Takiya naram tha.. sukoon sa mil raha tha.. jese vo raat itani lambi hojae ki sukoon na jaee… ankhon me ek yaad dabbi thi,, hoth bhi to muskura rahe the… shayad mann dheere dheere shaant horaha tha.. waqt guzra or ehsaas sa hua ki jese gehre paani me kho gae ho.. itana gehra ki mann vapis nahi ana chahta ho.. vahi doob jae bas us sukoon me..!!

Cogito!

When you sit beneath a shady yellow light with a book in your hands and thinking about the story it tells you… have you ever though how lucky free man you are who taste different worlds sitting at one place with so many determinations to create own world one day.  So full of enthusiasm but lying on floor purely thinking and staring things like a fool. Watching ants passing with food and saying hi to every ant they meet on their way… seems so very interesting. I wonder sometimes where they are going… they come from nowhere and end up nowhere. But that’s how it works… people also come from nowhere and meet us, say hi… drag stones of life with us… some drag them for long time whereas some for short. Some perhaps fall in gutter in-between because they disappear like they were never there.

It’s quite fascinating how we get excited about a great movie but never wonder how our own life is a movie itself since childhood to end… isn't it the longest movie? And the most interesting?

 I wonder how stupid I was as kid… and how stupid we think our young ones is now… that’s why our parents laugh on us… when we tell them we are mature enough.  I guess we are never grown till the day we die. We are a character who is born to learn and grow daily.

I wonder sometimes… that everybody is an artist in himself. Everyone sketches stuff on books, some on desks they sit, some on sand, and some just imagine clouds or walls as figures. Everybody stare their favorite food like a dog… everybody dance In front of mirror and think they are the best… everybody is suffering with some kind of psychological madness, everybody is trying to prove his existence worth something.. Aren't we all the same? I guess we are! We just come from different places.

We are all running… we all are… sometimes we know where to run but mostly we don’t. We run with all our abilities like an ant to show that we got something and we’ll do something bigger than we have ever done. We’ll carry food heavier than our own weigh and we’ll try not to die under it. We have started running with the crowd… but we’ll end up reaching our own destination.

I wonder sometimes that everybody if doesn't do everything I do; for sure wonder like me. Because this is how it works. We all pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe.

ME and I

Am I a winner or a loser…? I can witness no calm in me but I have seen them crying…  In this game of love and shame I am so tired that I can’t even sense it. I am benevolent for them but I keen to see them crying… my mind is the master and I chase the devil with grace… he will kill you before you try to make him puny…  don’t try to recognize this fire… you’ll be surrounded by flames… respect him and you can reside.

I sing love songs, I hold your hand, I kiss your lips and thus your neck… I tell you I am devil… I will smash you into dark… I’ll lock you in a room and beat you to hell but don’t leave me… maybe this is how I am or maybe I want to show you my history of where I have been… maybe I want you to smell my walls of blood… maybe I want you to hear my screams inherited in the floor... i'll might tie you in that old black chair with a chain but don’t just leave… I want to give you a chance to know who I am… maybe I’ll show you everything I had… maybe I’ll show you I didn’t choose me. Don’t just leave me. 

My devil threaten me all through this… he commands me to kill you before you throw a knife, but I believe you… I believe that you won’t… he throws fire on me and make me numb… he torture me so that I won’t feel anything… but I don’t know why I feel he is always precise, I don’t know why I feel defensible  in being miserable… for being stuck… maybe he loves me… he can’t see me pathetically weak… I owe him everything… he atleast love me… my devil in me.

I know a woman… I like her smell… she smells like me or maybe I smell like her… she know me from the ages of darkness… she was there always but never near… maybe she wasn’t faulty… maybe she wasn’t late or maybe I was in hurry to see how sunset break… she forgot to tell me what to be and I became what I had to be later she told me what I should be but I was grown enough to turn back and be. I hate her devil and she hates mine… when she love me… she leaves me desolated and when she doesn’t she leaves me the same. I don’t know what is wrong and what is right between us… I just know I can’t leave her neither she can leave me.  

I am devillious and live alone but I am happy because I don’t know how not to be… my master teach me well. He is really hard on me… he beats me… he is all cruel on me but he never leaves my side… he know what I want or maybe he doesn’t…. maybe he is just stuck being a devil… but when he holds my hand and walk with me… I feel tough and that’s what he wants from me… I may have lost every game but I have won respect.