Camphor Ball

June July August and now September.

Three months and no posts. I have been learning magic for this while. Well anyways this post is about the world and our default learned behaviour that never wants us to know that we are all we need. What is simple always doesn’t become the obvious answer, why ? Because we are the complication. We unnerve everything around us and ourselves as well because simplicity always begets contempt in how easily it’s available, there are no forms to anything but many, limited by our visibility. It is the visibility that manifests itself in our future and present, in what we create recreate or destroy. Everything we see, everyone we meet keeps triggering our defaults and we can’t change the pattern because we either do the same thing or the opposite when we are afraid of old results. How we can resolve this to follow our conviction with simplification of thoughts. In such thoughts I feel like I am absorbing the universe and maybe we all are always doing the same just unaware of it. Cheers to those who understood 👆

Camphor ball

Reduced by whiff of trust lethargy of hope should not take me over
or else
how to see the monotony of vigour?
where facts derive me out from sweat of procrastination and take future out my hands before
I had dwelled deep and dug all the corpses of brain but couldn’t touch the past
as if
I didn’t exist there and memory just absorbed what it found in the transcendence of mind
an lon an anion
kept what it felt in the friction
a negated packet
a hyped paradigm
a dusted love
absorbs me and expends me
I absorb the world in return and expand me per breath
traveling in my own brain

a camphor ball.

a infinite task

I zero one down to
two and then to
three and four..
create infinity.
speechless, with infinite sounds
I utter nobody’s
the basic fundamentals
find and kill rudimentary emotions
so that judging cowards can cry peace
they like each other
and break me free
on the leash.
the river flows of my destiny
going forwards
it takes me back
I seek I keep I repeat
the uncounted unuttered inexistent numbs
count me
and I count it to thee.
then I say four three two one..
it’s fatal to try and
reverse infinity.

Common Single Disease

I kill the cradle
and ancestors of the wild being in me
call me to end an era
of everything
with wilderness humanity will go
without desire the senses
with numbers the age
without sound your name
with death the pain
the dents of history will call for
another life to suffer
I will again rush to offer
another death in another life
another wisdom in another knife
another love in another life
wheel reinvents itself
and history is new
past kills itself
in between the time gasps
present perfect is continuous till
infinity dies again to be renewed.
You are my infinity
will you die early or slow?
rotting or in a blow?
will you kill me before slowing down?
or slow down to kill?
And then when your cradle kills me
my ancestors will call
the numerous me
and the numerous them
we will kill the misery of repeating history
mellow ourselves down
leaves will hustle
we will ignore the infinity in us
and will die in peace
cured in death of
a common single disease.


Because people give up by now,
wiping off the mopped floor, squeaky clean,
marble white,
I reflect.
Painted the windows white, walls red,
no bloody stains here.

Furniture is white,
dining table round and of pine,
this is where I dine,

they say 1 day at a time.

Because people give up by now,
cleaning brownish-blackish gunk on the stove,
over flown, forgotten, I scrub, clean it bright,
I cook,
I surprise.

Because people give up by now,
killing, poisoning, stumping on other roaches.
In corners quietly they repair who pretended to die,
I put my makeup,
got few more lives to live.

A rusty old watch I clean, memories creep,
speak, have you forgotten me, I am low.
This time I don’t pack it back.
I let it hang, in my sight, with a lighter mind,

they say 1 step at a time.

Because people give up by now,
pretending to be cursed,
pretend what you may.
In plain sight, I have let it go.
They are they and I am me.

1 day at a time,
1 step at a time,
1 life at a time.
Because, most people give up by now.

Skip a heartbeat

My heart skips a beat..

Thomp. and everything goes down again

as in the second’s distress to move

forward on the clock it pushes itself back

and I rush to pump it again with all I got

it becomes a matter of minutes to level

the things put to rest

from where hours turned to dust

of days spent in hunger

for the skipped heartbeats

where heartbeats skipped people

by skipping a few hearts.




Dear Friend

My friend,
let me find you again,
in the broken links of your wired past.
we all were sinking in that age of glory,
and it’s ok if all your pieces didn’t last.
it is the 30’s now,
you know what you shouldn’t do,
let me just take back the fears from you,
don’t be whole – preserve yourself,
but let the sceptiscm of those first mistakes pass,
keep the lessons,
but don’t let the punishments last,
let me find you again in the familiarities of our masks,
let me look at you,
via your heart,
past through the troubles of this world,
where you learned to keep faces as an art.

Meme evenings

neural efficacy it dictates

carving replicating transcending 

subatomic space of the peripherals where

it was killed, alive again 

dusted by hands of now a celibate brain

niching into the broken links

of surviving neurons 

to expose hide reside in a scarred alley

trying to invade again 

breaking open the bubbled spaces

you. yet again a meme of everything prefect 

I. an uninspired host


I am painting you a picture 

on the canvas of your eyes 

what you see is relative

and depends on your insight

like when night tells dawn

I am too a morning to few life forms

they who can see will change their colours 

those who saw black and white

still how do you rush when you are viscous

and how do you flow when you are rigid

but you will and think about the 

underperformance of everything else 

inside all of us we ourselves dwell. 

this way The mundane project of me

keeps getting more and more pointless

in my own stoic face I am baseless

the vision that I will anyways create

amass project reiterate 

is just a changing proposal of my past

when digged to the core of anything

everything lasts. 
Thought: most changes are selfpreservatory  in nature without our realizing it and even if we do realize that we need the change, we also crave for an acceptance of our negatives or worse we stop caring. How legit is the change then? sometimes us ourselves being unaware of the real depth of it. 

The revered God of odds

This is a call to create me because I don’t exist

and seeing my life I think I may be the one

who walks past the dreams and desires 

skillfully in a bliss remembering the odds on how these existed without the pain

but then I am proved right soon 

leading me to think I created them

but if history of people would talk they would have the same walk

still I am blamed not to live through it with patience

and patience they say some don’t realise they already have it as a character 

while those who don’t are often seen demanding it

I am familiar with this cycle

but I am in the odd

with about everything 

and the slipping society

who will soon think of me 

as a non conformist 

and while they don’t know what they are conforming to

I have to mix in a haste

of being left behind I have to join soon

I see among me other few who are confused the same

and they talk themselves into it each day

this predicament becomes society

and I a social person

and those who live on to carry my burden

and don’t conform

they become my God

of all my odds.

Until the batteries die

Fake respect of fear 

evades into the 

time which runs on clock 


battery dies

of the charge person 

has in life 

after that 

character of memory


and love 

no matter how strong 

loses its will 

in losses

and in fear of loosing

a lost love

and everything familiar

life continues

in that time

that runs on that clock

until the battery dies.