Am I addicted.

Addictions and obsessions.

Seductive webs
Suspended in space,
Spiral, oblique,
Linear and whorled,
In all patterns and  shapes,
With innate abilities,
To lure preys,
But not every web
Gets in the way,
And Not everyone
Falls in its trey,

Those who do
Have cuiosity sensors,
This need to explore,
Rebel, dig the dirt,
Ones with hard shells,
Sharp claws manage
To break free,
And grow in strength.
The rest with fragile wings,
Vulnerable hearts,
Dangle infinitely.

How to read palms

Hold the palm,
Caress like the leaves
Over wind,
But,
Ignore the hardness,
Of the skin,
The sound of metal,
Or their softness,
The Battles with ink,
The crooked nails,
The triggers they pulled,
Some rounded and polished,
Fine parlour gossips,
Tobacco stains,
Clouds of thought,
Hardened pulps,
Codes of will,
Blakened and burned,
Coals they hoarded,
Or the soups poured,
Tummies filled,
Cuts and bruises,
Broken fuses,
Ignore them all,
Trace the lines on
The palms,
Folds of skin,
When the embryo
was developing,
cook up their future,
And past,
By the length of the
Fold marks

Wear your weaknesses

Wear your weaknesses like a shield
They said, I did,
What they didn't say,
Is my shield will enclose
me in a field of cotton,
From which I can never move.

Complicated things- poetry

I have this knack for complicating things,
For example,
When they say,
An apple a day
keeps the doctor away,
An apple what kind of an apple,
Green or red?
If red has it got something
To do with our blood?,
Anyways why is blood red?,
Why isn't it green?
Green is everything fresh,
The grass,
The sign of new life,
The trees,
It's blue's wife,
The leaves,
The parrot, the cricket,
The pitch in cricket,
The good traffic sign,
Is all green,
But if away really means
So far away,
I mean,
Your are dead,
You skin is rotting,
With maggots and worms,
Eye are blotting and blurry,
Riding a giant ferry,
Made of lead,
What if lead dosen't float?
Ok made of wood,
Over the volcanic lava,
Trodding to the gates of hell,
But wood will burn,
But you are all dead anyway,
So you are far away
from the doctor,
There can't be doctors in hell,
They aren't sinners they save lives,
But  all doctors can only be either
A Muslim, Christian or a jew,
Even a hindu,
So if the "real God",
Finds out the the doctor hasn't
Been worshiping him,
His ass is gonna be handed
In a plate,
And hell is his fate.

So an apple a day
keeps the doctor away,
So an apple a day
keeps the doctor away?.

Hits me- poetry

To the guy with the
Rolled up sleeves,
Metal arms,
And Cold stare,
I know you are out to
Get me.

When you and your
Friends hang around,
Near my dorm balcony,
To puff out huge
clowds of grey,
I could feel your
Cold stare has infected,
them in some way,
Your unnecessary hate,
Carved in with malacious,
Blades.
All ganged up
To hunt the poor sucker
Down- Me.

I didn't sleep that night
Waiting for you and your
Gang of goons,
To slow up,
I was ready.
With a wooden stick,
In one hand, and a plastic
Hanger in the other,
I kept slashing the Air,
to learn single stick,
Double stick, takewondo,
Anything I could,
To defend myself,
Even when my eyelids,
Like locked shudders,
Refused to open,
My arms like rubber tubes,
Hanged,
Legs about to collapse,
I kept on.
But no one showed up.

The next day I saw you,
And your mouth curled to
A C,
What looked like a smile,
Put a stop to the bang
That kept hitting my chest,
My head which felt like
An hot owen till then,
started to melt.

When paranoia hits me,
I am not myself,
It gives me this sunglasses,
When every soul is
A threat,
Every giggle an insult,
Every hand is out to
Pull me down,
And everyday an
Opportunity for
new conspiracy,
And he has this friend,
Who creeps from his shadows,
Holds you by the neck,
Hauls you upside down in
In his cave,
Leaves you scratching the
Walls for your dear life,
To see some kind of a light,
Anxiety leaves you paralysed,
Disabled, breathless.
And next time worser.

An idea- poetry

When an idea presents,
It changes you,
A thought assimilated,
An event happend,
It changes you,
You are new,
You can't choose to go back,
See the unseen, undo what you did,
You have trespassed, unexplored territory,
You could either progress further,
Explore more, or you could
Choose to cover it with
Long sleeves, pretend nothing happened,
Ignore the bite,
Until one day it becomes a scar,
And hope the scar dissappears,
You might pull of the deceptive
Smile,
For a while, but you know,
That you know, or what you did,
what you said or what you hid,
The thing,
clearly consealed in the back
Of your head,
Lying dormant for years
Making you think it had
Left without a trace
has Changed you,
For better or for worse,
How big or small,
It has left it's mark
You are new.

Lose weight in 10 days

The fat man's rants..

I ran behind the bus,
Till it stops,
And in I popped,
Swetty and breathless,
Strolling to the
Only seat unoccupied,
The lady on the window side,
Wide eyed exclaims,
"There is no space".

I with a broken leg,
After falling,
In so much  pain,
Gritting my teeth and
Clenching my fist,
To  make it go away,
All in vain,
The paramedic grinning,
"No wonder the small fall,
broke your leg".

We play little cricket games,
Everyone gets a place,
Even one's who never touched
A bat,
I either don't get
Picked or picked last.

People love shopping,
they go crazy,
But It was my
biggest nightmare,
I hardly got a cloth
That fit perfectly,
The sales people
Will look akwardly,
As I threw away
Every last cloth they
Give me.

Just  me walking,
Puts laughter, giggles,
On peoples faces,
Not because I am popular,
But to them,
I am a walking barrel,
A meat loaf with legs,
A collage of pathetic
And clumsiness in
Syncrasy,
I was to them an amusement.

And fun conversations,
Usually involve friends,
Calling  eachother
names,
giant, fart head,
Lazy ass,
Inflating baloon,
No class,
Clumsy, Untidy,
A blackhole,
That takes everything in.
I laugh shamelessly.
It is all assumed, as,
I am fat.

I loved this girl,
I didn't believe
I deserved her,
I wanted respect,
I didn't believe,
I deserved it,
I wanted to socialise,
Be brave,
Roar on stage,
Ooze confidence,
Pour love everywhere,
But my weight held me back.
I am fat.

But,
One day the world turned,
Upside down,
Literally,
Everyone started zooming
In to space, all their
Tiny frames
Dissappeard without trace,
I held on,
As I had more mass,
I occupied more space.
There was nobody around,
After all
the mourning stopped,
I started feeling more alive,
Than I ever was,
I was happy,
I was still fat,
(I did not loose my weight toiling,
There was "More food less people"! duh)
There just was no one else to love,
No one else to please,
No standards to live up to,
I was my love, I was my king,
I was my dream.

I like this girl- poetry

He liked this girl, She didn't know he exists,
Also, he had no guts
To go,
And say "hey,
may I? borrow your record,
And, may be add you to my
friends List",
Because, you can't go to a girl
And say "I love you",
That is a taboo,
Desperate, uncivilised,
Strightforward.
You have to play mind
Games first,
He didn't know,
How?. So
He send her love letters,
Everyday,
Hoping she would one day,
Ask him
"Hey, stop, what do you want",
Then he would say "You,
I want you, you, you.
You, to be the last person I talk to everyday,
yours to be text, I eagerly wait for every morning.
Spending time lazying with
You the idea of a perfect weekend.
You to be the Person, I will dig the ends of the earth, To pick the perfect birthday present for.
Your breath surrounding the air around me,
Your hands holding every adventure we walk,
Your scent in all my sheets all seats, clothes.
With you a family,
And to you, the last goodbye, yet happy, knowing that I will live on, in your touch, scent, breath".
But she never asked him what he wanted,
All she said was stop,
He did stop,
May be too many times,
But he did stop.

Poetry- black and white.

Only Indians will understand.
You scratch, bleech, paint even pray to be a bit farer, this little horror is because every movie and magazines
You have ever seen.
Shows white as beautiful, black as ugly, white as pure, black as dirty, white as light and black as darkness, the magestic  prince and beautiful princess are all somehow fucking  white.
But you should know,
White is also imperialism, slavery, war, discrimination,  arrogance, a plain canvas, a blank paper a bully.
Black is tolerance, survival, camaflauge,
Hard work, distinction, the contrast, hip hop, jazz, free style, spoken words poetry, the beautiful night,
And brown used to have an identity,
Now it is trying to be white.
You would rather get cancer than be you!!.

Do strikes really work?

Strikes have always been a form of right to freedom of speech.
An opportunity for the muffled voices to be heared.
Poking at the authority, keeping them in check.
To give problems a spotlight.
         It is these strikes that bought us our freedom, it is this outburst against inefficiency that has created so many changes, and has molded the world we live in today.
         But now strikes seem to be nothing more than, daily occurrences. News in a corner of a "not so important" section of news papers (unless these is some action, abuse, violence), which the government gives permission to conduct at a certain venue and people limit to show how tolerant or how democratic they are.
         But do these strikes really cause fear in the governments, keep them in check?. Are these strikes anything more than just publicity stunts for parties and students bodies, to show people they care and they are out there?. Why is that these strikes seem to happen around a topic that is so right now I.e something that is so hot in the media that the government is already under massive pressure to do something?, what happened to the idea of giving voice to the voiceless?, and if those striking can amass so many people why and really care about the issue, why can't they become a part of the solution, why can't act  instead of shouting, protesting?.
         The governments have become so used to them that they just don't seem to care, "ok it's just them, do we have anything important?". The strikes are now more of a hinderance than a boon to the public, and to the governments a Mosquito bite, and to the media, paper fillers.

    

The story of Indian currency

           The First signs of Indian currency was found in dwaraka (which according to mahabaratha is where Lord Krishna ruled), these coins called as mudras carbon date to 5 th century bc.

                Then there has been records of Indo Greek Coins which bear the architecture of Greeks, But bears the symbol of Indians.These have a charecteristic square shape, with either potriats of authority, or animals like bull.

                       Then there are records of coins being used by  Mauriya dynasty from 300 bc, these coins usually contain a mauriyan king with a bow, the coins were considered to be one of the first record of preserved fine Indian art, as they have multiple varieties and have been crafted to very incredible detail. 

This was also the time when the word rupiah is considered to have been widely used, the word is derived from either sanscrit or dravidian word Rupa meaning a silver coin.

                 The word had been mentioned by Chanakya the minister of Chandra Guptha Mauria in his book, he also mentions that there were, gold, silver, copper and lead coins and they all have different names, gold coins (Suvarnarupa), copper coins (Tamararupa) and lead coins (Sisarupa).

                  During the middle ages the Rajputian coins were used widely they usually contained an image of the goddess Lakshmi with four hands, unlike the Maurian's which had only two. (600-1200 AD).

                       The Alf coins by the muhal emperor Jalal uh din Muhammad fondly known as Akbar bears the period and the dynasty to mark history. (In 16 centuryAD)

                       The coins minted during the period of Marathi King Chatrapathi Shivaji

               The first paper currencies were introduced by the British, during the middle of 18 th century by the bank of Hindostan.

                      During the post independence period, each rupee was subdivided in to 16 annas, 64 pisa, 192 pies.

                         After Independence particularly 1957 each rupee was divided in to 100 naye paisa, and naye was stopped from use after 1964. Then rupee fought two major inflation in 1966 and 1991, but survived all that and still seems to be going strong. That is how rupee got its name fame, shape, and everything, it's also the official currency in Pakistan and Sri Lanka, not Indian rupees per say but rupees ( you get the point don't you?).

The story of money

               Money was not always the way people traded their goods or services, in the ancient times it was the barter system, people gave away what they had for what they wanted, this didn't always work as whatever they have might not be in demand so they would be left to starve.
           
              One of the oldest currencies known to man was  Anatolian obsidian a hard glass mineral which existed in 12000 bc i.e during stone age people gave away this stone in exchange of other stone's "me needs that caved thingy, I give this shiney thingy".

             Cattle and grains were used as money in 10000 bc and was used as late as the mid 20 century AD in Africa.
       "Moo" "Moo" "Moo".

Roman Silver coin

Chinese paper money

Lydia

         Then gold was a widely used form of money as everyone desired gold, soon gold coins were made by smiths.

         First form of Banks existed in Babilonia at around 3000 bc in the form of temples and palaces to store grain, cattle, precious metals.
 "How did the cattle not eat the grain?"

     

  Cowrie shells were used as currencies in China at  1200 bc, they were also in Africa and other parts of Asia.

First coins were supposedly minted in Lydia which is in middle east, the currency was made of gold and silver  it existed in 600 bc.
       " Roman phylosophers criticised the idea called it capitalism". But soon joined the party and started giving loans for interests in 400 bc.

      Around 250 bc Chinese cash coins were introduced, these were made of copper with a circle or square in the middle, these were state made. These were one of the first state owned coins made, along with the India and Lydia.

       Jewish temple coins had been around since 0 AD ,which was the only money allowed to be spent in and around the temple, pilgrims were supposed to exchange their currency for the copper coins.  "was probably a secret  scam to collect gold and silver made in Rome and Greece".

        At 1000 AD paper money in China was introduced, which unfortunately stopped after 500 years of use after repeated inflations and reforms. ( we have been using paper currencies foe only around 200 years we still have time to reach that point ).

        In 1619's Tobacco money was widely used in Virginia after just 100 years after its introduction there.
       The gold Smith paper bonds were introduced in 1650's which formed the basis of morden banking which is for an another day.
     Soon countries started minting their own currencies in 1700, bank of England was one of the first to do so. That is how the present day money was born.

A block

When you sit to write
Something down,
But a lump waits
In your throat
And you can't swallow,
Throw around paints
But the colours
Don't mix,
Everything seems like
A mockery
Not art,
When you try and weave
Something magical,
A beethovan's symphony,
Perhaps,
But tragically,
What comes out,
Is a mediocre sound,
That already exist.
No storm
Surrounds,
no sounds,
No secret pathways
Open,
No new lands,
Just you broken,
Down to
Your ordinary self,
No inspirational dance,
No trump of creation,
no pleasures of immortality,
A block.

Non violence

All and any notion,
How great it may be,
loses it's value,
When you use
The same force,
You fight against,
To attain it,
Contain them,
And deem you fit.
You fight against,
Oppression,
Slavery,
For your right to live,
But
Build it over blood,
And slaughter,
By manipulation,
Fear, force and weapons.
Though the battle seems to
have ended,
That war is never ending,
Prey becoming the predator,
Is hardly called winning.
You riding over,
The one that rode you,
Treat them like trash,
Letting them rot
Till they are blue,
Burning them in sun,
Till they turn to ash,
Battle seems to have ended,
The War is never ending.
Prey becoming the predator,
Is hardly called winning.
The victory will have no pride,
No one leaves happy,
Not even you,
Unleashing one's fury,
Erecting a blackening hue,
Hunting them down,
Till they they can't shout,
Till they can't stand,
Till they bow,
The victory will have
No life
Have no love,
It will  have blood smeared,
O'er your hands throught the future,
From now.
Leaving your children with rage,
Their's Thirsty for revenge.

Creatures around the house 3

Superficial

 
Me,
you,
everyone,
I today see,
throw around "I love you",
Like a bag of tea,
We don't really mean it, do we?.

We laugh around,
Have fun times,
Make a lotta sound,
Rock our primes,
That's where it ends,
Fun and lies,
Why would anyone
Waste their lives,
Pursuing ties?.

We are so scared
To share our hearts,
We fail to make
Emotional bonds
From the start.

Friends or family,
Partner or terrier,
We always see them
Through this
Giant glass barrier,
One day when they
Bid us good bye,
For reason like
'Stupidly fought',
Or some disaster parts,
leaving us with a crack
Don't wanna get caught
In despair wanting them back,
So you concentrate on
What they lack
Than what they have,
So you cannot care,
let them impair
You, from the success
You so long wanted to taste,
Let the word see you,
For what you are,
But why will anyone
Be happy for you?
Exept you
when you do.