An Untitled (Peace)

Its said a city of make believe is all we need,
A payphone and some chime coins..
Waiting can be long, I did not know.
Its longer than I ever thought.

Made a mistake and not cursed to say
I often fall short of words..Its something that makes me
.. a little less nervous.
This goes on , more than a night long.
Pet names and pet dogs. All are same.

Regressed passion and suppressed anger.
Waves of spice and a movie ha(u)l.
I never realized how it went on..
like a video streaming so fast.

I got hooked, to the lights
but kept digging into darkness
Found a hole and creep-ed in  deeper.
Dug a grave,just too flatter..
Surprise.
He went farther. 

The go'ers get going

A hill side road inside a crowded city. 11 pm alarm. The crowd bustles uphill walking towards bottles of gin vodka and mix. We move one side and move onto the left. High heels,short skirts and tall men. I see them all. Loud music, no parking and lot of chaos. I view it all. Horns loud, a text- leaving for a 'Saturday night party'. What does one do at this place? On the rocks for an UPPER middle CLASS.I notice, they are like different partitions of the same plate. Some full, some looking to get full by the night ends. They desire,they drive. They aspire,they receive. What is so wrong in that? Midst the crowd, just watching them walking towards pegs,shots and pints felt a little out of place. So its the place that makes(it) believe(me).This rush of bare shoulders touching each other, a few pushes, a little drink spills on your tagged dress. How many of them are every Saturday nighter's but Would love a photo story of  many a "Saturday Nights". It would be hypocritical of me to say I don't enjoy the music and the alcohol once in a while, but for me the weekend has a completely different idea. Week-END. Live the END. Relax till it ENDS.  This doesnot mean I am correct or the lifestyle I chose for myself is the best laid plan,no. But I would want to attempt to know what people derive out of drinking the same alcohol,laughing again and listening to some what the same music in a different ambience every bloody saturday.
 At some level I feel honey singh's song is pretty darn right. except for a few sexist comments, everything stands true. So, who is this "saturday night" party goers and why do they live this lifestyle? I am soon gonna be doing a photo story on the same.

Force

Plumber crack. Jump and splash. Dirty water fills your shoe. A pot hole,  like a black mole. In a moment, wings fly, fluttering heights. Some passer by's. Refused other,abused bare. Aroused of the shade and grossed out in light. It pricks, a twitch like prick. How? We know not. Three year fame, two gone by. Chain linked neck piece. Small broken slice. Taste some violence. Twist some arms. Discern's this thought. Learn to forgive. Forgive and unlearn. A lamp can fix. A glass of mix. Red Yellow and Blue. Pungent chat.

Raining Black and White. Linear-Parallel- Linear gauge. Loud music. Irritation. Lack of absorption &  Broken sentences. Unity and combination. Lets nominate her. She might see. The haze, a gaze. Of colors unsaid and discussions not done. Talk today. Create a mystery of fumes. Fog the fumes. Breathe. Images of a mirror. Barely move. Shaken not stirred. Bit of ice and a little rock. Thumps her feet as night gnaws. Golden Glitter with Silver Shimmer. Hex and hypnotize. 

Finish line.

  BUT

Continue.

The secret to life.

Meeting is a chance. Chosen is the stance.
Different obstructions lead to different routes. Rustling beaches of Morjim and sunset skies of Baga. We move ahead. Onto a new destination. Holidays to put you off present. A destination forgetting foot prints. Rendezvous in time. Lapse. Those waves refold. Composed others opposed. They smile and scare. Decompose yourself in that one hotel room.
Locked inside a bottle,fizzing out of smoke. We held hands together. Walking water on the feet, slips between your toes. On the beach. Away and in darkness,before the spectrum. Empty dance floors. 3 hour Bollywood haul. Fly away, feel ecstasy  I looked around, he held my hand. I looked around,again. He firmed his grip. I looked around once more, i saw her. A spark some smoke and boom. Then was a beach which was walked upon by her. Not alone. Not with me. With him. A week long memory. Although in this shes a part,forlorn. We love laugh live. We cry care caress. Two way train, away from all the pain. Little company but crowding seas. Flying around high, falling down deep. Jittering lights,cornered streets. Zipping scooters, loud silencers. Something to realize something to feel. A leg in two boats, detached - destabilized  Shoot is over,time to pack up. The lights are dim, curtains are closing and I stand still. This anecdote is a memory,a parody.

What's in your Camera?

I have never been a movie watcher. Movies leaves one with a great impact about anything, possible everything. But I haven't been one of them. I would never take extra efforts to go watch a movie. I watch serials but I majorly into pretty worthless ones too. Nothing that would actually change my mind except till the time I watched this documentary Born into Brothels by Zana Briski. My love for photography made me watch this. I googled a documentary not because I have an intellectual flair of watching/critiquing the same but because they are short. But I was amazed at how this was shot. The photographer actually lived with them in those conditions. It makes me wonder how situations force people to act and become in a certain manner.They adapt themselves to this bubble, a non porous one, unbreakable one. Its almost chilling to your spine to see kids who would leave a good environment with cleanliness, hygiene and positivism and go back into the dingy dark lanes of body odor and squalor. This documentary also highlight a few flaws in our national laws. Prostitution might be a crime but the children born out of this, are not criminals.They are as innocent as others. Hence I see no reason why they should be denied education or right to have a fresh start.
This film pushes you to go beyond your own parameters of tolerance , to see the blurry red lights which have more stories than those high rise buildings. The services offered are same at both places. One approaches the raunchy and elite but the other one goes to the distressed and laborious.

I don't know what I wish to tell you here. Its just a documentary, but I think you should watch it.
Adios !

Recipients Of Revenue

Savings and Expenditure. I had a conversation yesterday about how the west is a place where fortunes are built by their own hands. Mainly because they don't save for anyone and live off what they earn. By not saving, it doesn't mean you live on debt and credit cards but living life on the edge. Not everyone has the power to keep their fists clasped as soon as they deposit a cheque, see the rising account balance and do nothing about it. I mean necessities are fulfilled but we don't spend on our wishes, thinking we might not be able to afford it ! So there are two types of people,oh actually three.
1 : People who don't spend. At all. They spend their lives saving up and ultimately they die mediocre and pass on all their hard earned money to someone else.
2: The off spring of (1) who spend their ancestors money lavishly and save and invest their own in turn becoming economically a comfortable class.
3: The off spring of (2) who has been raised and ruined by this very society which has provided them all the comforts, but not the wit to make their own legacy. They want to but they can't.

These are of course not the only kind of people who earn money but it pretty much relates to what I wish to talk about. None of my points might be perfect but I think I fall somewhere between being a no.1 and no. 3
I want to save money before I spend it. I have a wishlist,a huge one and I might have the money at some odd times but not the heart to spend it impulsively. I have been called a miser sometimes and a shopaholic. But having seen the people around me. Baah. Not a shopaholic. I have often found myself contemplating whether  the things I desire are worth the price tag on them! I dig down a beautiful dress which would have the perfect cut, the perfect sleeves, probably 10% overpriced but generally worth the look and bang when I am about to hit the pay button! I stop and calculate: Cost of Cloth + Cost Of Stitching + Cost of Travel and Effort = I can make this dress on my own in about half the price. *Perks of having a good tailor*
BUT, the but is I never do and that makes me 1. Not having the dress 2. Lazy.

Coming to the (3) type people. When I find myself contemplating over a Rs 1000 dress.I see others my age, probably richer[because of (2)] but that's not the point. I see them buying off a freaking "eye pencil"  for the same amount,without guilt instead a deep sense of satisfaction. Now how does (3) make money? Because at some point in life, monetary help will stop and you have to make money by yourself. To what I have noticed, these guys make money by others, by fooling innocent people and taking undue advantage of many kinds of ( 1 &2 )'s in their lives. They will not want to utilize you for your own gain and show you down about how you messed up. They have a self satisfying ego which will keep boosting and boasting their futility. These people are selfish and cannot live without monetary support, they take to binge expenditure etc. I cant judge them but I can say no one should take advantage of anyone. Or even if you do, have grace to respect the other. Also, a loss is shared in the same way as a gain is. On that note, my new year resolution is : Self Respect is Earned and Taken not given or distributed.

Walk into trouble

FIRST ATTEMPT AT MAKING A VIDEO.