Dear Bangalore,

I have known you for peace and tranquility.
Unfortunate reasons today, you have been chanced upon
What wrong have you done to anybody ?
Why is the world turning so barbarian?
Why are you targeted?
Who's the one who can't tolerate your growth?
Answers, Any? all the world is just muted
Who ever did this to you, deserves to be called a coward !
Yes, a coward ! an apostate!

Converse' De-Tox !

Well there has always been trouble to open a conversation. Hesitation breeds so fast no one even gets to notice. Minds jab gibberish lingo, let alone me, nobody else can understand. Silence slowly devours the bright evening while it spills into darkness. Sitting by the beach in a shoddy little joint. You are best dressed for the unexpected rendezvous, expecting your attire to do all the speaking. Scented candles just been lit, wick burns black, it spews light, while the glow slowly creeps on your skin, seeing you in bleak uncanny light, not all of you though. I can see the tip of that sharp egoistic nose. The rest of it looks like big brownie dunked in plain white hot chocolate. (OMG! that's your hair, Wet look for the evening)

Now the quietness seems to plot a murderous night, it is time to push those tiny little words strewn way past down in your throat, push hard, harder way up to your tongue to make little sound. You are still zonked and wondering, will those words split part your lips and reach the intended audience or not. To your dismay it turns out to be a petite squeal. As always your effort goes unnoticed. Brave solider you are not a traitor; you wouldn't show your back and run. (I know how badly you wish to do so). You feel like millions of minute insects are tingling in your tummy. Your plastic smile, sheepish grin, inquisitive looks, pink blush and unintended gush have savagely ravaged entire evening. Time to break, tear, shred, shatter, blow the point blank silence in its face! Open your bloody mouth and speak!!!!

You look straight into the hazy darkened figure in front of you, clear your throat and go for the kill, “It's a nice place isn't it?” (Yuppie! kudos! Clap... Clap... you scored, you scored! And that’s a goal) you now eagerly wait between the split second for your audience to respond. You slowly lean a little forward to get a good look , the moment you waited for all this long ( there you go!) you hear....... “Excuse me! Are you talking to me?” Hmm...Well, you are decent person, you don't and can't behave like the drunken hooligan (right now! all you want to do is scream loud pull you hair and run like mad bull out of that joint.) “I am sorry, was I loud? Please ignore me, I was talking to my self.” You said what you had to. This was destined to happen, wasn't it? You have been sitting all night at the shack, waiting to catch a glimpse of early morning sun. While you sat where you are sitting ever since, least did you realise that you had 4 large Antiquity on the rocks and smoked your brain numb since last evening and all you said was "Muhje meri tanhai se baat kar ne do"

Gibberish

Creative plunge, I did take.
things, prose or poetry making sense to thy self alone.
I seldom care for the world, if world did care any less
Satisfaction gleam, soulful and ample contention
while I key those letters, words flow seamlessly.

Effortless embodiment of thoughts.
Manifest feeling into words and phrase,
vocabulary ransacked and plundered,
emptying mind,pumping void stillness
and let the brain numb

No dope made me this high, no caffeine ever did
poetic and prose license, words mined out

a sense,
a lie ,
a truth,
a will,
a thought ,
a feeling,

Creative plunge that's all it is, it takes one.
while I call this art, let the rest call this crap.