Has social media made us lame communicators?

Communications is key for any relationships to thrive. In today's age of social media, read FB with 2000 plus connections, Insta Love or Retweets, one can bet on our connections beyond comments. The truth is that we have lost the art of harnessing relationships or communications skills when everyone is suddenly gung-ho about their social media achievements and one can wonder on the number of friends on display. The moot question is: Who are our real friends, with whom we speak regularly. 

Wanna bet! There are few who are our true friends in this virtual world and the whole FB triumph has made us lazy when rather than picking up the phone speaking to a friend or planning a lunch meet, we end up sending a WhatsApp forward. This whole forward or virtual e-greetings for birthdays, Diwali or New year has made us lame communicators where deep inside this fear of not meeting and bonding physically has become our new truth. I often wonder whether we are for real in the first place or just turned into some digital robot, typing greeting or Whatspps whenever it suits us.

For instance, I may speak loads to a Whatsapp contact or on social media but may be, will be at a loss of words in meeting the person. I think this says a lot on the communication skills suffering and reason why we should meet more often with people not only to break the ice but also getting to know each other. Time for us to loosen a bit for the digital world has stiffened our souls. 

 Do a test and just drop a genuine Hi to your random FB connection beyond comments, asking to call them or catching up. The answer is simple: There are very rare cases when you will get a reply and forget about meeting up for we have become remote-controlled by the world of Insta that works like another version of friends with benefits. Basically, you like my posts and I like yours. Honeymoon over. Sadly, that's how the entire things pan out.

 Of course, there are few people who became good friends on social media and despite we haven't met physically, we make it a point calling and speaking endlessly on the phone. But, I can count on my fingers the number of such connections but blame it not on others but ourselves for we are busy beyond words but too selfish in making the effort in expressing love or appreciation beyond the world of status messages or Tweets.

Beauty and the plucked rose

Beauty is delicate,

plucked rose losing sheen,

dollop of spark waning,

the moment beauty gives in to passion and love,

lost fragrance,

beauty radiates when exposed to the sun,

what to make of love?

Complex,

layered,

intense,

misunderstood,

directionless

love is,

similar to beauty,

the chasm and miasma unexplored,

a stranger lover is clueless,

in the intriguing night,

leaves shorn off in the new season.

 

Say hello to Hope

I shall tell a secret,

invest in love, friendship,

every single thread of relationships,

cornucopia of emotions,

equate the heart with goodness,

bare it all open and unfiltered,

discard the past,

empty the vessel for it carries no worth,  

paint the universe with love,

say hello to hope,

celebrate success and smile at defeats,

leave everything behind,

eliminate the scars,

vanquish demons of the past,

accept the shortcomings,

as you say bye 2018.

Where have the years gone?

Where have the years gone?

dreams and passion,

guilt free,

freedom to romance,

devouring life,

to love and lose,

heartbreak,

when pain was pleasure,

exploring lust,

eyes filled with aspirations,

unquenched thirst,

once every small thing mattered,

it took decades,

the lost times surfaced,

when pessimism vanished,

scar was just a world,

freedom above everything,

dating was fun,

routine of falling in and out of love,

the heart knew no defeat,

conquering the soul wasn’t vain,

never shy to take risks,

time change us as a person,

roughen the child inside,

why?

are years such an evil?

taking the self away,

hold tight to the spark,

embrace innocence,

be that person again.

Xmas delight

Colorful bells,
gifts wrapped,
toys in forms and shapes,
twinkling eyes,
tiny toes,
cuddled by dolls,
a little princess,
a boy leaping with happiness,
greeted by magic,
cars and wonder city
Santa's fantasy,
where is him?
little hearts unveiling the eluded fantasy,
hiding behind curtain for a peak,
the old man missing,
the delight felt by the heart,
Xmas tale,
Make merry.

Love
V

A day in life

 An atypical day in my life makes for perfection, efficiency and super productivity but a rarity, thinking of the ass whipping exercise to achieve this feat.   Confession: For quite some time, haven't done it but when it does happen. high on fulfillment.

1. Lie on bed and meditate for five minutes, closing the eyes, palm open, breathe in and out to seek calm.

2. Drink a glass of warm water which is the best way to start the day for it removes all toxcins.

3. A cup of chai to start the day while coffee makes for the second or third beverage. ,

4. Read materials online and FB is used as a diary for I keep sharing a few stuffs so that get to read them or else they are lost in the feed.

5. Check office emails, Twitter and other Linkedin notiifications.

6. Sit in the room or alternately travel by bus to office for a couple of hours to sort out stuffs and work. Yes! I am a freelancer with a company and got this facility of hanging at home for the daily tasks.

7. Hit the coffee shop where time is spent reading on the I-pad, a book or magazine that one will normally find in my bag.

8. Back home for a nap, jogging twice a week and 30 minutes of yoga practice done either in the morning or evening.

9. Reading, blogging and attempt to write, fiction or non-fiction.

10.  Watch Netflix and Amazon Prime. Just finished Sacred Games and still on Mirzapur, both kick-ass sitcoms.

Things can't leave the house without!

You know this feeling right when it suddenly hit home that the laptop charger has been left behind at home when scampering to the office? There is a little you can do, except pray that the work is wrapped in time and laptop turns into a good saint doling free love without expecting anything in return. A tale of counting your chickens before it hatched.

This happened to me last Thursday and felt like a dejected scientist on a mission to save myself from The Big Menace looming. I almost turned into a zombie to wrap everything in a jiffy but wasn’t meant to be. The laptop went dark.  I went blank. We stared at each other.  A moment of silence that seems pretty much like the videotape ejected from the VCR which is buried in the past.

Now, that’s quite a story knocking on several cubicles at the common office space to be turned down,  pretty much like asking girls out who outrightly rejecting me. I was lucking for two dudes sitting in their cubicle saved the day as good Samaritans. Finally, business was done in half an hour courtesy the borrowed charger. It makes me wonder on the things that we normally make a point to carry with us every single day and a tube light moment when it slips the mind, a matter of life and death.

What would happen tomorrow if I forget my phone at home rather than the laptop or the plug in? I would definitely freak out, thinking I have lost the super expensive i-phone or the risk of passing out, making it more painful than leaving the laptop charger at home. Things I can’t do without right from the smartphone, an extension of the office with emails and countless applications such as social media to the spectacle and wallet, books or magazines carried in the bag.

How can I forget my personal agenda diary in this digital age? The diary makes for something very precious and personal to jot the agenda and as much as I try to be media savvy, can’t do without the former for it’s the ultimate lifeline. Just can’t live and without the prize assets surrounding lives.

This feeling, that sentiment...love

This feeling,
that sentiment,
paradise nest,
you call it love,
it may not be!
crevice,
a heartbreak,
bruise,
nursing scars,
in past and present,
rewinding the emotions,
plugging in fast forward,
what we could have been?
walking past you,
nothing could have ever existed between us,
had we made that choice,
you tell me,
pretending nothing existed,
better to love and lost,
your shadow loomed,
belonging to the buried past,
we destroyed each other's presence,
i like it that way,
strangulating the feeling,
zilch,
just a trace of water,
when the stormy night has waned,
and dissipated with the new season.

Flash Fiction: The end of it

Blinkered eye scanned the black BMW X 5 series speeding on the deserted road in the outskirt of Mumbai, jettisoning past the railway station and stumbled on the dingy alley, in the middle of dilapidated buildings, a lone tea stall lit by a torch and cows grazing on the muddy field.

The luxury car stumbled and screeched that stirred the fearful residents cooped in the two square, flipped towards the end of the lane, reaching the main road.  A computer-generated voice told the driver, “You are being followed.”

Dim light and red shadow surfaced coruscating on the narrow edge of the road. The car slowed down and the driver fixed at the rear window, observing the slightest ruffled movement on the deserted road while watching ahead at the same time. In the fleeting seconds, a barrage of gunshots fired at missile range grilled the car, descending on it like speck of arrows blustered on the window and steel.

The car twisted in circumference like movement, stumbled and trundled on the pavement blipped to speed, was tailed by the behemoth of cars closing on its heels. Ball of fire unleashed and thwacked the BMW on the roof, back rear, door and window splintering into jagged pieces.

The array of cars firing bullets and canons, banged against the BMW leaping ahead and pacing out before gaining the upper edge. In a strike of second, the driver lost control after wagging the sniper battle for a harrowing hour and spun in a circle of fire crashed on the edge of the bridge, hardened blocks and concrete jagged in the air with thwack like sound.

The car flew past the bridge and cascaded inside the river, exploding like wildfire.  A man was hanging on the bridge and a group of armed men run towards him that gave a shock and expression of disbelief. A configured robot was driving the car and oscillated in the air, speaking the language of humans, “You are fucked.”

Writing in a diary

Blank pages stare at me in the same fashion as an unfinished manuscript, half empty emotions waiting to be poured and undeclared love. Writing in a personal diary is a very therapeutic exercise to empty the cup like they say. The old age diary is taking an entire lifetime to be filled and I am just halfway through.  

First entry was penned in January 2010, the same time I bought the diary.  It’s been eight years from now and looking like a half-empty glass.  I’ve just finished Preeti Shenoy’s book, ‘Love a little Stronger’ where she speaks on the many wonders of the diary in capturing the soul and writing in the moment to not lose the flow gathering in the mind. I am a procrastinator and yet such a loyal friend asking to be loved talked to or spilling the secrets, emotional tribulations and thoughts that can’t be shared with the world. The diary is this friend.

Every friend is special. Keeping a diary in the digital age is a must, I strongly feel and there are many like-minded souls keeping one for companionship. But, what holds us from penning regularly, if not every day, but at least every week? Time to pull the socks and if you are a lazy bum like me pledge to keep a regular weekly time, preferably during the afternoon or the night to pour ink on paper.

Start by making a list of things you want to achieve in the next three months, friends you can rely on, opening the heart to plain strangers, making new friends, tackling emotional hurdles and shit or thankfulness happening in a day or great ways to kick the buck in penning words in the diary. The brain has so much of things to grapple with but once you skip, it can be quite tough a thing to reprocess which may not have the same spin in capturing those moments. Start writing Now and fill the heart with gratitude.

A date and no banana to slip on!

Find a date,

no banana to unpeel and slip on,

footsie on naked soles,

adrenaline rush,

fingers interlocked,

blooming beyond flowers on first date!

art and conversation,

a naughty tale,

shedding inhibition,

undressing,

 caress and kissing,

splash of tongues swirling,

bit of PDA,

bold strangers turned lovers,

who makes it better?

inviting lovers,

a cappuccino moment!

Xmas List 10

 The time of the year when everyone is planning for expensive vacations, trying for cheap flights or hotel deals, expensive wine, splurge or, for that matter,  shopping for gifts. How about going minimalistic and make a difference to yours or someone's else life? A few ideas this Xmas season.

1. Craft Santa Claus DIY Greeting cards that can be sold on social media, bookshops or supermarkets to earn a decent profit at an affordable price. You can also contribute one-tenth of the proceed to charity.

2. Go on a solo trip, breathe and take it easy being with yourself leaving all stress behind.

3. Fund the education of a child or Girl Child, contribute to a social cause empowering women or spend a day in a shelter with underprivileged children surprising them with homemade food, chocolates and sweets.

4. Treat yourself with Ayurvedic massage and go for a self-healing course.

5. Learn to play a new musical instrument, be it piano, guitar or sarong.

6. Binge watch movies or sitcoms for an entire day on Net Flix.

7. Treat yourself to the favorite iced cake or chocolate fudge you've been craving and resisting the temptation for months in the quest for diet control. 

8. Hide gifts under the bed, pillows, kitchen and couch days before Xmas, forget about it and discover it on the day or invite children to pull the covers to pick a random one.

9. Go on a road trip, exploring the picturesque views and if you are with your partner, make out in the car. A merry affair to remember.

10. Gatecrash a party, yeah right! Be bold and be a risk taker.

My Gift conundrum

Gifts for every occasion whether it’s birthday, mother’s day, father’s day or New year is quite a task at hand. I am quite bad at shopping for gifts and pacing dawn the road means ending up not buying anything, except getting the coolest of Greetings cards.

The perks of being single saves me the times and stress of buying mushy and romantic.  Valentine is just another day flitting like dust and skipping the hard work. Let’s play a bit:  Imagine I am in a relationship with someone and come V Day or her birthday, I may just end up giving an audio CD but the hitch is that in this age of download, people hardly listen to music albums.  An expensive chocolate or perfume with flowers may save the day. Don’t ask me about trying for creative gift buying for I am clueless about this whole gift idea so much that it makes me in awe of people who can come up with some amazing creative ideas to woo and be a real charmer.

On Mother’s Day, I ended up gifting maa yummy Indian food. That was the gift after scratching the head and not that mom expected something but we can always make a small effort in bringing a smile on the face of our parents. My idea of gift is books since they not only adorn my shelf throughout the year but the fact of being a voracious reader myself. Books are a constant companion to win hearts. The moment you shower me with books, we make for eternal friends. Gifting a child is easy and it’s offering money treat.

I am always spoilt and surprised with the hot favourites ranging from chocolate, book marks, novels, wine, tee shirts, tea, perfume and scotch whiskey. It’s a shame that I am yet to give a close and childhood friend a birthday gift which I promised when he treated me with expensive food and was caught off guard. See! How much I suck at giving gift! Not that I am a stinger but unsure whether the other person would like my choice.  

Teddy and love cuddle!

Cute little teddy bears,

love bribe,

ma chick and me,

a drip of sensation,

needle of sensuality scything the skin,

gentle and mad,

splash of water lilies,

cute soft skin,

smearing the nose,

tenderness,

wanna you as my soft toy,

 feel like asking,

gentle kiss,

 intense kiss,

a shy peck,

we are no cooing birds,

chocolate, cookies and perfume,

too passé and fake,

toil harder to woo,

affectionate smile,

weave a poem,

paint the town red, yay!

when words can’t express,

a teddy sparkle flames,

a night cuddle!

What is love?

What is love?

tinkling of heartbeat,

sleeplessness,

waking up at night

gaping the ceiling,

 eyes wide open,

smiling for no reason,

laughing at every silly joke,

jettisoned in the air,

you know that feeling, right!

tracing name in the sky,

love does crazy things,

dancing to weird song,

flashing tooth and grin to strangers,

penning imaginary poems,

singing praise to human emotions,

a boy who love, not once or twice,

 innumerable times,

drum heart shall beat again,

alcohol feels sexy,

hey! I’m not in love.

Scorching it up

Caressing and kissing her hair,

 scent of perfume,

a wild encounter,

lipstick on the tip of my mouth,

brushing her white tooth,

she caked the soap on my chest,

burning sensation,

 ripped me,

pulling the hair

biting my ear,

her engagement ring,

we broke up,

the  bed banged and cracked,

wood confined to light the fire,

 in winter,

Who needs a heater?

When we can scorch it up!

 

Satire: Forever Shaadi Insta tales from Tuscany to Lake Como and Jodhpur

The season of Shaadis, Band, Banjaa and Ghomar refuses to quell, from Tuscany to Lake Como in Italy and now apna Rajasthan. If you think Deep-Veer shaadi is over, think again! Both Deepika and Ranveer refuses to cool their heels and like hurricane,  pictures sharing spree on social media and real menu a la carte, the star-studded receptions from Bengaluru to Mumbai. Well! They could have married a frog, if not a peepal tree to stop boring us to death but none are Manglik!

Pun intended. Heard the Ambani bacha is tying the knot and trust Mukesh to say Jio mere lal with cellphone towers sprawling all over the place and pinning for the best gift from his pal,  Narendra Modi. Priyanka and his Nick, at a time when celebrities are becoming the wedding brand ambassadorsof Italy, have taken it upon themselves to boom the Indian economy by saying, I do in Jodhpur making it simple, royal fashion. 

The moral boost that we needed right after counting and flipping our colorful bank notes from pink, lavender, blue to chocolate brown, except black after demonetization. Ooh! La! La! It may just boost our wedding growth this December at a time when Vasundhara Raje and Sachin Pilot are battling out with Kissa Kursi Ka!

Back to Deep-Veer Insta picture sharing and overdrive PR with the hashtag best bride of the world to kill, it could give Netflix a complex or they may just release their wedding in theatre this Friday and not to suffer the same fate of Padmavati forever postponed last December. Khilji has just turned from villain to hero in this period marriage sage of undying love, enough to give Bhansali to jittery and itching for the next big band idea.  I’m actually thinking who bites the dust next! Err! New couple of time to say yes to shaadi vaadi!

The real killer, of course, is those Insta photo sharing that doesn’t seem to die down and maybe Deep-Veer nurturing aspirations for a next superhero kinda couple to rival with Chitti Reloaded after his version of Robot 2.0 avatar.  No wedding is complete without naach, gaana and booze, our Big Fat version from Italy to Jodhpur and Mumbai, with Amitabh Bachchan shaking a lead to Jhumma Chumma dede and Shah Rukh Khan to Chaiya Chaiya a la Ranveer Singh. Can we expect the new groom dude to remain in one place when music plays as if traffic signals in Mumbai are not enough?

Another reason to make a music album of the wedding reception and sell, making the moolah! Who says bad days are there when it’s raining money! Here’s the trick to make the moolah to celebrate the wedding video in theaters next to you!  Perhaps you need to get drunk with your friends and party wild to beat the Big fat wedding handover all over social media. Just saying!

We once made love

Don't make pouting face,
Baby, I don't love you!
Not your fault,
unbridled sensuality,
killer eyes,
wreathing a sword in my heart,
the complete woman,
I am but a nomad,
cannot be confined to one place,
conquering hearts,
set us free,
unfettered by bonding,
unhold me,
unclip the wings,
forget we once made love,
our soul knows the truth,
indoctrinated by wild theories of ever afters,
quench the fire,
yearning for flesh
bake a new story.

Sloshed on words

Frazzled morning,

Coffee taste lingering on tongue,

not brunch,

just a plain and simple breakfast,

 loud music blazing,

beating sleep hangover,

 I ain’t on dope,

alcohol conjures the trick,

falling for hot women,

winking,

stroking my soul with playfulness,

where is my babe?

We’ll play silly,

dirty talks,

fights,

kissing in the mud,

fuck loads,

Friday high,

sloshed on words.

Why do I write?

Why do I write?

validation,

truth slammed on the face,

selfish words,

curing emotions,

hiding my identity,

searching for the lost soul,

painting myself,

I'm no flower,


scars on the face,

a voice,

running away,

from whom?

breaking free,

expression is my prayer,

composing a tune,

words,

biggest turn on,

sexing up composition,

another illusion,

the incomplete mind without writer,

head with no heart.

Rain is my lover

Carry me on your couch,

Oh! rain!

you are made of steam,

flashing darkness,

a lover,

ain't letting me free,

doused in this fire,

i'd prefer a hot shower,

never ceasing to follow me,

be a lover instead,

drizzling like madness,

stop making me melancholic,

stalker,

hiding the cloud,

you want passion,

can't love be firm and gentle?

your tears,

my sorrow,

winking at me,

silly mood,

showers of love, affection and chime of celebration unabated,

can't stop your expression,

like the eternal shadow.

Flash fiction: The Temptress

Anjali smacked him on the lip. Rohan was caught off guard, squatting on the mattress strewn on the floor and coaxed her to play monopoly. His constant pleading, blackmail and pulling her hair in various directions irked her. The smooch was forceful and her legs intentionally hit the monopoly board hard.

“What the fuck,” he protested.

“You need a fuck,” she sniggered. “Oh, monopoly is more important than us,” she faked it.

“Babe! It’s about us and not this game,” he tried to cajole.

She turned her face away and smiling with a bang fist in triumph.  

Rohan folded the monopoly board and dug it inside the box. He feared that his lady love was brewing something in her head.

Anjali licked his toe, pressed her perfect finger on his skin and smiled seductively.  He felt an electric gush wave running like steam in his body and tried to resist but the sensation incapacitated him. Rohan held her shoulder, caressing her skin and unbuttoned her bra. He squelched. She gravitated closer and pushed him forcefully to the wall, licking his chest, tongue lashing up and down. Hairy chest went moist. He slouched and let her drive him. He loosened up. She explored his upper body and pressed him with brutal force.

Rohan yawled in pain. A pair of tooth bit the zone between the hairy chest and the belly, pulling off the pad. He wouldn’t let her pull it off. Anjali strummed naked and threw it inside the bin. She winked at him.

“Baby! The starter has been served and dessert tonight,” Anjali said.

Ripened fruit of lust

She told me,

not her age,

to devour the ripened fruit,

I tell her,

fruits are plucked in the garden,

passion and lust,

rotten fruit loses freshness,

a beautiful mind needs a kick,

no excuse is good enough,

suck the juice of life,

be healthy,

quench the sensual thirst,

lick before it melts.

Fiction: A call from heaven

Tring! Tring! Tring! The phone rang interruptedly and the voice screeched through the deserted room as the shade of the dappled sun flashed inside.  The house overlooked the sprawling view of a huge jamoon tree splayed outside in the forest,  inhabited by grasses and stray dog slouching on the green grass.   

The plopping water sound was lullaby to the dog’s ear. It slept like a baby on a sunny afternoon. Wagging its tail happily, the animal trotted inside the house with easy demeanor and fearlessly stared at this quirky and fascinating object, the old wooden and steel phone belonging to relic times.  

A loud siren jostled the dog out of its reverie and the tiny legs leaped and forayed foray inside the house. The globular eyes and neck perched at the sight of the phone blowing a familiar tune. The claws pressed on the wooden handle and wondered on the empty house as the creature sidled in a circular position. Days, weeks and months flitted, the pet was convinced that a heavenly voice calls her every day. She longed for this stranger friend.  

The phone call suddenly stopped one day. Sunshine went off the pet’s life spending an entire afternoon squatted on the floor inside the room and waiting for the phone to speak. She barked ferociously at it and tired of waiting, scratched her face with the claws. Shade of sadness and moist eyes surfaced and a pall of gloom crept.

Birds cooed in the morning. Pigeons flocked. Jamoon’s tree stood tall and leaves fluttered. Water flew gently in the well. The spot under the tree’s shade missed its favorite visitor, the dog prancing and jumping to disturb every known species inhabiting the forest, the foliage, grass, trees, flower plants, and birds chased in the wild. The forest has gone silent and strange sense of silence entered its soul. The night felt spooky.

A year has passed. The foliage moved on its own and a well-fed dog raced ahead in the forest and the tree branches suddenly sprang to life seeing a collar on its neck, foraying to explore every nook and corner, the root, flower and dense foliage. Pigeons and birds flapped their wings happily to see their old friend back. The dog flung her belly suddenly gaining weight and entered the familiar room to peek at the phone. It remained intact with the wooden handle sitting on the rusted steel.

If only both could converse in their language.  The dog didn’t bulge for a second. Heavy shower started pouring and the phone rang in a loud volume like an old friend waving and calling its friend to play together in the wild.

Breaking away from Emotions

Human emotion is defined as carrying multiple factors such as physiological arousal, expressive behavior and conscious experience. The various reactions to sensations be it, fingers accidentally burnt by the stove, feeling of love, intimacy or sex, pain, heartbreak, tears and first instinct of getting angry if we were deprived of dinner whittles down to our emotions as human beings.

What if we could break free from our emotions affecting the brain and pushing us to behave in a more logical way than the other? Being emotionless would imply not responding to any known thing and to guard the self against pain or happiness. Highly unlikely since emotions offer us stability and the ability to love in better ways as humans for we certainly don’t want to become robots or vultures in human form, destroying lives. I am intrigued on bringing a possible disconnect between the emotions and the brain. Perhaps, we wouldn’t feel any pain or hurt.

The various emotional depths are explored by the James Lange Theory of emotions explaining that an external stimulus leads to a physiological reaction, triggering emotions. The fear that rages inside us of falling ill some day or being hit by a car and not finding love after being rejected zillion times makes us insecure. How many times have we heard a friend telling, ‘I don’t feel anything for him or her’? A tale of being emptying the emotional cup after going through upheavals and being filled to the brink that there is no feeling left inside us for that ‘special person.’

I often wonder about the possibility of tired souls undergoing healing after being drained emotionally and being asked to empty everything like this glass of water to experience something fresh inside to chuck out the accumulated garbage inside. Is there something called good emotion or bad emotions, good break up or bad break up and good love or bad love?

The social conditioning or behavioral compass triggers us to react in one way when a pesky relative would call out of the blue and propelling us to act in a cold manner. What if the person offers us something that we love having, in that case, Alphonso mangoes? I bet, it will alter our reaction and makes us wonder what pulls our emotional trigger inside the brain. Such altering behaviour can be quite effective on reactions and how destroying misplaced ego can help us save many relationships, stay calm and can work pretty well to diffuse unnecessary conflicts that acts detrimental to both our mental and emotional health.

It culminates into the last point, the Cannon-Bard theory of emotion enumerated on the experience of physiological reactions and emotionally linked without zilch feeling.  For instance, one may feel pain owing to bad food consumed the last night rather than anger. This addresses the main argument on disconnecting the self from emotions where the theory weighs on emotional responses occurring in a fast manner for us that it becomes tricky to deduce whether they are products of physical exertion or the fear in front of lurking danger appearing in the place of a tingle sensation to run away as the immediate reaction.

Often, a matter of cause-and-effect, emotions are interlinked to the flesh or how disconnected we become with our inner state of being which is increasingly complex to assess. There may not be a clear-cut assessment in separating ourselves from emotions which is a near impossible thing but can happen over fleeting seconds. No, we cannot dissociate emotions but in a moment, a pain may trickle over rather than emotions. There was a time when it was hard to imagine living without this girl but now, her mere sight doesn’t arouse anything in you because sensation and emotions are quite flexible in adapting itself to your new environment.

A lost tune!

Who borrowed my tune?

 knotting the strings,

burnt fingers,

one chilly night after passionate sex,

I picked the guitar,

licked cocaine,

hallucinating,

it can’t be rock,

punk,

throwing snowballs,

on frosted homes and deserted streets,

swirling down the road,

imagined jeering crowd,

I became a madman,

sold the drums,

begged in trains,

stole a Halloween shaped pumpkin,

singing in hotels,

shady bars,

for unfortunate kids,

danced naked for call girls in exchange for sex,

stealing pack of condoms,

sitting in dark cells,

Ain’t a free meal sunny boy,

I’ve been robbed,

sold my soul!

A staged secret of love and longing

Telling you love me,
when wanna break apart,
secret blown and torn into pieces,
a dangerous game of love,
treachery,
i shall play along,
pretend to be enamored,
by your sensitive heart,
don't blame me,
this love is staged,
faking heart break and pain,
the flashy smile,
what do I make of it?
a tune gone horribly wrong!
your treachery,
my song. 

Cherry blossoms and mystic season

Cherry blossoms,

seeping in the mystic season,

aura of colorful hues,

branches stripped,

of bland emotions,

smile jutted out of the bud,

fresh morning dew,

flapped wings,

birds swaying to the tune,

picking grains,

in quest of freedom,

dancing flowers,

kissing visitors on the beak,

of the wind’s chime,

untold stories,

nestled in the dense foliage,

undisturbed by human chaos.