Friday, 9 November 2012

Ankahee (अनकही)

कहने  को  तरसते  हुए  उन  अफ्सानो  को
Image source : www.goodfon.com
वक़्त  की  किताब  में  बंद  रहने  दो.
कुछ  अधूरी  सी  जो  रह  गयी  है  यह  दास्तान,
इसे  यूँही  कुछ  अधूरी  सी  रहने  दो .

नज़रों के  ख़त  को , पलकों  से  खोल  कर 

तुमने  पढ़ी  थी  जो  बातें  राज़  की ,
उन  बातों  को  हौले  से  सिरहाने  छुपा  देना 
जो  राज़  की  है  बात , उसे  राज़  ही  रहने  दो .

लब्ज़  खर्च  न  किये  थे  तब 

यह  सोचकर  की  काम  आएँगे  फिर  कभी  वक़्त  आने  पर .
अब  जो  दबी  हैं  दिल  में  उन  लफ़्ज़ों  की  परछाइयां ,
उन्हें  वहीँ  दिल  की  गहराई  में , यूँही  दबे  रहने  दो .

थरथराते  हुए  उन  लबों  से  कह  दो 

मुझे  खामोशियों  के  नगमे  जादा  पसंद  हैं 
जो  दुआएं  कर  रहीं  हैं  इंतज़ार  मेरा 
उन्हें  कुछ  देर  और  इंतज़ार  करने  दो .

कुछ  अधूरी  सी  जो  रह  गयी  है  यह  दास्तान 

इसे  यूँही  कुछ  अधूरी  सी  रहने  दो ...

© श्रेयांश चौरडिया



Kehne ko taraste hue un afsaano ko,
Waqt ki kitaab mein band rehne do.
Kuch adhoori si jo reh gyi hai yeh dastaan
Ise yunhi kuch adhoori si rehne do.


Nazron ke khat ko, palko se khol kar
Tumne padhi thi jo baatein raaz ki,
Un baaton ko haule se sirhane chhupa dena
Jo raaz ki hai baat, use raaz hi rehne do.


Labz kharch na kiye the tab
Yeh sochkar ki kaam aenge fir kabhi waqt aane par.
Ab jo dabi hain dil mein un lafzon ki parchhaiyaan,
Unhe wahin dil ki gehraayi mein, yunhi dabe rehne do.


Thartharate hue un labon se keh do
Mujhe khamoshiyon ke nagme jada pasand hain
Jo duaaein kar rahi hai intezaar mera
Unhein kuchh der or intezaar karne do.


Kuch adhoori si jo reh gyi hai yeh dastaan
Ise yunhi kuch adhoori si rehne do...

© Shreyansh Chouradia

Saturday, 29 September 2012

THE HEADLINE


Image has been editted.
Original image source : corbisimages.com
Standing in the crowded railway station Sandy saw the young man, sporting stubble and spiky hair, with a large guitar case with him getting down from Howrah-Mumbai express.

“Welcome to Mumbai, sir.” Sandy said, teasing his partner.
“Shut up, Sandy. I am too tired to listen to your gibberish now.”

Sandy gave him a wide grin and then went on to call a taxi.

“So, how did your last assignment go?” asked Sandy once they were in the taxi.
“Ah! It went just fine. It’s this task in Mumbai that I am worried for.”
“Don’t worry bhai, you will be just fine. After all in this task I shall be your partner in crime, isn’t it?” He exposed his pearly white teeth again.

The taxi stopped at the red light. Sandy kept on blabbering and his friend nodded unconsciously. Finally they arrived at a hotel. Sandy gave the taxi driver money and his wide grin.

***
It was 10 in the morning. Sandy was getting ready for the ‘performance’. His friend was nervous and making a joint that would hopefully clear out his mind. After a few drags, the two men went out. Sandy stopped suddenly and ran towards the room. His friend followed him.

“What is the matter now?”
“How are we going to perform without the instrument you idiot.” Answered Sandy, now holding the black guitar case with him. “Hurry now”.

***
It was 11 AM thanks to the Mumbai traffic.
“STOP !”
“What now?” said Sandy looking bewildered.
“Isn’t this the way to the famous Siddhivinayak temple?” asked his friend.
“Yes, it is. So what?”
“Lets pray.”
For the first time Sandy was silent. He could not utter a single word and stared wide eyed at his friend who was now taking of his shoes.
“B-B-But aren’t you?”
“Oh! That? I believe He is everywhere.”

After an hour they were back in the taxi.
“So how was your meeting with God?” the grin returned on Sandy’s face as he asked the question.

“Fine. Go on. Tease me. Taunt me. But you just can’t deny the fact that there is one Supreme Power guiding us all.”

“Sure I do”, replied sandy almost immediately, “It’s called Money.”
“Don’t you have enough?”
“Enough is not enough, my dear friend.” Sandy replied instantly.
“If I were you, I would have left this thing years ago. You know, I just can’t sleep at night because of it.”
“Why do you need to sleep at night when you have pubs & bars all around here? Oh! You don’t drink… its against…” Sandy was interrupted.
“No, it’s because I don’t want to drink.”

The taxi stopped. They have finally reached the destination.
Now the work starts. They will be in the Headlines of every newspaper tomorrow. Sandy thought.

The two men went ahead. Sandy was both excited and nervous. The other man stopped abruptly. Ran towards the taxi and got the black guitar case out.

***
The other morning Sandy was viewing the morning newspaper. He was right. They are in the headlines of the newspaper. It read:


MUMBAI CHIEF MINISTER ASSASSINATED
Mumbai. 21/12/2012. Friday

"…One of the two assassins was shot dead. Ballistic team have confirmed the use of a M82A1 Barett .50 caliber rifle.  A black guitar case was found which was used for carrying the weapon. The terrorist who was shot dead has been identified as one Wasim Muhammad…"

Saturday, 1 September 2012

'METAPHORS'



Note : Terms 'he', 'it', 'they' etc. are used as nouns wherever they are enclosed in inverted comas.

Broken and wretched ‘it’ fell on the earth. The pain was unbearable. A month from now, it has been soaring high up in the sky. People saw it with awe and amazement. The happiness, the applaud, the audience. It’s all gone. All remains is a memory. ‘It’ has always been ‘his’ favourite. Since childhood, ‘it’ was ‘his’ only companion. ‘They’ always told ‘him’ to part ways from ‘it’ but ‘he’ never listened to ‘them’ and till now ‘he’ thought he was right. But now, with ‘it’ lying on the earth, ‘he’ wondered, “Was he really?”
***

Memories from the past played ‘his’ mind. ‘Him’ and ‘it’,  right from the childhood have been the best of the friends.

“I don’t know who you are. I even don’t know what you are. Still I like you. I am happy when I am with you. I just want to let go the world and be with you forever.” He would say to ‘it’ more than often.

“I depend on you. It depends on you, how you mould me. How you shape me. I shall be what you want me to be. But just don’t take me as reality or one day that will be the reason for the tears in your eyes.” ‘It’ warned ‘him’.

***

Days, Weeks, Years passed. ‘He’ grew up. And as ‘he’ grew up, ‘it’ took a more precise and defined shape.

“Damn! I have to choose between ‘you’ and ‘them’.” ‘He’ said while preparing for the exams.

“Do as you wish. Choose whatever path you want to tread. But do choose the road of happiness.” ‘It’ said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Choose the road of happiness” ‘He’ said imitating ‘it’. ‘He’ was angry.
“As if I didn’t know that.” ‘He’ continued. “The problem is, I don’t know where the road to Happiness is.”

‘It’ smiled, hovering above ‘his’ head. ‘It’ knew the future.

***

A couple of years have passed. Through some ups and downs, ‘he’ and ‘it’ were still together. Thanks to ‘her’, that ‘it’ was still with ‘him’ and the bond was stronger than ever. ‘She’ has always been an inspiration for ‘him’ and that inspiration was the only think that kept ‘him’ and ‘it’ together. Eventually, ‘he’ and ‘it’ almost became one. ‘He’ was happy and ‘it’ was now more precise in its shape.

But then there were ‘them’ waiting for ‘it’ to fall down. ‘It’ has always known the fate. It’s always the same. Only a few can merge into reality. Only a few ‘It(s)’can merge with ‘them’ and make ‘him’ happy. This was not going to be that case.

‘They’ were all ready to attack the bond. ‘They’ arrived with long swords of “money”. They attacked with maces of “reasons”. They used the strategies of “prejudices” and “experiences”. ‘They’ were called “People of the World” and they lived in a place called “Society”. ‘He’, unfortunate enough to have been born amongst ‘them’, had to choose between ‘it’ or ‘them’. As a matter of fact, ‘he’ never cared for ‘them’. The problem was that ‘he’ has to choose between ‘it’ and ‘her’.

‘He’ was, as always, confused. ‘He’ didn’t care about the ‘Society’. Neither did ‘he’ care for ‘them’; ‘People of the World’ as they were known were what ‘him’ has despised the most for their dark hearts and bright faces. ‘He’ only cared for ‘her’ who helped ‘him’ to be with ‘it’. Inspired ‘him’ to always stick together with ‘it’.
But now ‘he’ has to choose between ‘her’ and ‘it’.

He remembered what ‘it’ always used to say:
“… just don’t take me as reality or one day that will be the reason for the tears in your eyes.”
‘He’ has made the decision.

***

An old man, worn out by the ever turning ‘wheel of time’, came beside him when ‘he’ was mourning ‘it’s’ death. A tear rolled down the eyes of ‘the old man’. As he patted on ‘his’ shoulder and walked away slowly muttering something. ‘He’ could only catch a few words. The words were enough to make him realise what actually ‘it’ was. The words of the old man echoed in ‘his’ ears as ‘he’ cried mournfully before the now dead ‘it’. The old man’s words now echoed in his ears:
“Reasons of the World’ took over man and in his search for reality, once again ‘it’ has perished.
Once again a ‘Dream’ has perished.”

© Shreyansh Chouradia

Thursday, 23 August 2012

THE RANDOM QUESTION

Image Courtesy: umnet.com
"What are we upto? Can you believe this? This is just bullshit! " Said Govind watching NEWS on Aaj Tak.

Thousands of North Eastern people fled various Indian states amid fear of being attacked in the revenge of the wake of communal violence of Assam. The news reporter on TV said.


"Nothing. It's just what we Indians are like." replied Javed indifferently.

"What? So you say that we deserve this?"

"No, I just said that this is how we are. We would go upto any extent for differences in our ethnicity, caste, religion or even SRK and Salman; whatever, but where we face difficulties together we won't stand up against the problems."


"What do you mean?" asked a confused Govind.

"I mean we just need a statement for a rebellion when it comes down to religion. It just takes a moment when something is said against your ethnicity or your caste and there shall be protest all over country within no time. Go to youtube, and look into the comments section of any video relating to either cricket or movies and you will know we are even fighting when it comes to SRK, Salman or Ganguly & Dhoni. The problem is we don't respect the differences.But then talk about similarities. Everyone is facing poverty, insanitation, corruption and what not. Where is the anger now?"

"Then what about Anna Hazare movement"
"What about it?"
"A year ago, it was in the Headline with thousands of people swarming for satyagrah and all. I was involved too."

"Yes, and after a year when the old man is again sitting for Satyagrah, you and several others are sitting at home." Said a smirking Javed.

"Oh that's because I don't like politics and there was too much of it."

"Politics is a dirty game of dirty names." For once Javed agreed.

"Yes, see the Goddamn Newspaper dude. Isn't it flooded with corruption and shameless corrupted politicians? pathetic I would say."
"Ah! Media. A new age tool to brainwash people, that's what it is for me."
"Now, whats wrong with media you cynical-narcissist bastard?" asked Govind teasingly.
" You very well know Govind whats wrong with it. Media is always at the right place, at the right time, for the wrong reasons. They want hype, they want TRPs and they know how to get it. People these days want to be feared, want to be sad. You know being an MBA student the management funda of demand and supply. You want it and media gives you a pony-tailed man (with more hair on his face than his head) yelling out at you SANSANI."

"It again depends on perspectives don't you think. You have the remote. There are numerous TV channels, numerous websites and numerous ways in which you can use these things for your benefit. To be happy if you want."

"IF and only IF you want."

"Huh?"

"You watch porn, Govind?"

"What? This is so unlike you?"

"What is?"

"Changing the topic in the middle of an argument."

"I am not changing the topic. Just answer."

"Yes of course I do."

"So you would be aware of the term S&M. Sadism and Masochism or Sadomasochism. Where a person knowingly ties himself up, let himself being beaten to be aroused. Thats how most of us have been now-a-days."

"NO WAY... I am certainly not into S&M...eeew... never." an irked Govind retorted.

"No, you idiot. I mean we want pain. We want to be sad. When we are sad its okay. When we are not, we look at these depressing news channels for news like these so that we can blame someone. When there is nothing, we switch to TV serials where mother in law tortures the newly wed bride. All in all we somewhere somehow want to be sad because 'to complain is human; to enjoy, Divine.' God is a sadist and he enjoys it very much, you know."

"Oh now who is complaining and whining, huh?"

"Seriously. It is obvious. Who would like to see a Rajshree Productions movie with a Prem in it who is the "ideal" son and then there is that "ideal" girl who brings water in tray and then the "idea" love, the "ideal" family and ...

"Booooring" Govind cut him short.

Exactly my point. You want Drama. God likes it too. Look around you. Look around the world. Aren't there people in every stage of life unhappy and discontent. From violence in Egypt against government, to unemployment in London. Earth quakes in Japan to poverty in China. That's country-wise-superficial info for you. Now look at the deeper cross-section. The problems are more common. A rich billionare - broken family. A joint family - Family Disputes and poverty. A post graduate - runs a corner store; while a 12th pass dude- sits in a Government office unhappy 'cause he wanted to do a business but has ended up working in a Govt. office. I remember a line which suits this situation:

"Har kisi ko mukammal jahan nahin milta

Kabhi zameen to kabhi aasmaan nahin milta..."

"Wah wah! But I am happy and you are too. So you mean God is not trying to be harm us?"

"Let me tell you a fact you very well know. You are madly in love with Kajal and she loves me. And you know how much I hate that girl."

"Hmmm..." Govind was dumbfounded. It hurt him but he knew it was true.

"Come on now, Cheer up. Why do you get sentimental and all when it comes to her, you typical Indian."

Govind smiled. " So now you have problem with how Indians love?"

"No, it's how they look at love."

"Okay master Javed, Please enlighten us with your words of wisdom."

"Seriously, haven't you seen that the only meaning now-a-days love has is the typical "Bollywood Definition" of love involving a male and a female who are attracted to each other and by the authority vested in them and the Cafe Coffee Day they are now pronounced 'Boyfriend' and 'Girlfriend'. You may now kiss 'sip' the coffee"

Govind laughed. "Okay I agree some what with it. But isn't it nice. Two love birds 'sipping'. winked Govind emphasizing on the 'kissing' 'sipping' part.

"What's nice about that? The amount of petrol a guy wastes on chasing girls, it would have been more than enough for a whole month of fuel for some needy fellow."

"I agree."

"And then there are malls and cafes where you sip coffees. I tell you, 'sipping' has never been costlier."

"I agree."

"And then there are long threads of facebook comments and youtube saying " Dear, I miss you, I love you and all that suff... Give me a break."

"Okay, now you are sounding like Mr. Sibbal. Banning Facebook on moral grounds." said Govind taking a dig at Javed.

"Don't compare me with any of those politicians. I am a better man. That was a waste move by the Government, by the way. Facebook is Facebook. I depends how you use it. Its 'wall' is actually like a big public wall where anyone can write any thing, paste any bills, spit on it or even piss on it. It's what we do the best here, don't we? Pee on walls. If they can't ban peeing on walls, why ban the facebook wall. It will be like banning soaps because it can be used for making bombs."

"Yes, but then its our duty too. We should ..."


"Morals and values cant be taught by introducing a 'Moral Science' subject and 'removing cartoons' from textbooks. It is inherited more or less from family and personal experience. People here don't have enough food, why would they care for values.If you say so, i might believe that there should be some duties and obligations to be performed form our side too, but then practically, I know that his conversation would just end up with you being running behind your stupid girlfriend and I watching a movie on TV."

"But everything has a purpose in life. The karma, the balance of life..."

"Its all random" Javed cut him short.

"So you believe that we are born on this earth just out of some random chemical reactions and that it's just a matter of chance."

"Ofcourse. It's like a lottery where someone ought to win a prize. One in a million. That's all we are." Javed said in a matter of fact tone.

"Then, for you everything is just random and has no purpose?"

"Lets see..." Javed started pretending to think with his finger on his chin. "A big bang- years of chemical changes- Out of that a unicellular organism came into being and than gradually through evolution we came into existence, sitting here with TV switched on discussing on various subjects from politics to religion to pornograpgy to science. Then, one day this piece might be a part of some blog which either you or I might write and some random person may be reading this. Isn't it RANDOM or is there a PURPOSE?"

The argument went on but the question remains the same:

"IS IT JUST RANDOM OR IS THERE A PURPOSE ?"


© Shreyansh Chouradia

Monday, 21 May 2012

Wednesday, 16 May 2012

DO YOU LOVE HER?

DO YOU LOVE HER?”

 24 hours from now :
I was sitting alone in the dark night-- my eyes set on the misty lake. A cool breeze blew and whispered in my ear: "Do you love her?"

22 hours from now:
I was sweating. When you are going to propose a girl, perspiration is inevitable. I reached the corridor. I saw her, turned back and treaded my way back to my room.

10 hours from now:
I wrote a 15 page article, with footnotes, for her. I called it “Love Letter”. Actually, it was not. It was the most organised ‘so-called love letter’ ever written. It had the garnishing of ‘boredom and technicality’ which I have inherited from law school being a law student. For instance - the lines  ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever’ : had the footnote  see, John Keats, Endymion (1818).  I went to the library and waited for her.

5 hours from now:
‘Lloyd’ in my hands. I sat in the library reading ‘Austin’ who stated the most obvious definition of law any one could ever think of: “Law is the command of the sovereign...” it read.
Then, I heard a sweet voice.

4 hours 30 Minutes from now:
She was in tears. No, my 15 paged ‘so-called-love letter’ was not the reason. Fortunately, I tore it off without her knowing about it. The reason for her tears was Raj: the “son-of-a-rich” father, born with a silver spoon, trying to act on ‘silver screen’ with an overdose of steroids and who owned the most expressionless face a homo sapiens ever could; he was acting in one of the most irritating love story of the year which certainly would win the award for best film. Yes, you guessed it right. We went out for a movie together.

1 hour 30 Minutes form now:
We sat together, our fingers entwined; eyes set on a misty lake.
She held my hand tightly and whispered in my ear: “Do you love her?”
“Who?” I looked at her.
“The girl in your eyes.” she asked with tears in her eyes.
My tongue sealed itself. For a second I stood still; you could have knocked me down with a feather. The time stood. The world paused.

1 hour 29 minutes from now:
She was in my arms. I couldn’t believe it. The girl I longed so much, the girl for whom I wrote a 15 page memorandum of love, was actually in love with me.

1 hour from now:
After having expressed all my emotions finally, it was time for us to leave. She had to go to her aunt’s place for some work.
“Can’t you go there some other time?” I asked, holding her soft hands tightly.
“No, I can’t. It’s urgent.”
“May I drop you there?”
“No, it’s ok.”

30 Minutes form now:
I was in cold sweat. My cell phone slid down my hand and broke into many pieces. I could not believe it.
“She is dead. There was an accident. She was hit by a car.” Said Tanu.
Tears ran down my eyes as I stood there rooted to the spot.

15 minutes from now:
The darkness drank me. I felt a stinging pain. But after a while, I felt free. Finally I will meet her: was my last thought. Tears rolled down my eyes but my lips managed a curl to from a feeble smile. The pain was unbearable but the thought of meeting her made it easy.

10 minutes from now:
It was silent. As if I was in a vacuum. I felt nothing, I could see nothing.

NOW:
I sat beside her, her hands holding mine. Our eyes set on the misty lake. A cool breeze blew and whispered in my ear : "Do you love her?" I ignored it.

If it’s a dream, I don’t want to wake up.
If its heaven, let me be dead.
Without you dear, it’s difficult to walk
There are thorns around, every path I tread.

© Shreyansh Chouradia

Monday, 14 May 2012

DEMISE


There lies my demise
Yet I long to be there
WARNING : Smoking is injurious to health.
That abyss calls me with its open arms
And I long to be there
In her arms
In arms of my demise

She calls me with those cold eyes
I know I will never be able to get up again
I will never be able to see this world again
Yet I long to be there
In her arms
In arms of my demise

This world, as they call it;
With smiles and pains,
With cries and laughter,
Smiles and disdains;
I want to leave this world
To be in her arms
In arms of my demise.

It’s a sham; the happiness
It’s a sham; your smile
It isn’t real, it never was
It has always been a sugary bile

Atleast she promised me one thing
And she will keep her promise
Her promise to destroy me;
To burn me.
Atleast she is true;
Bitter but true.
And I know
There lies my demise
Yet I long to be there
In her arms
In arms of my demise.

© Shreyansh Chouradia

Thursday, 19 April 2012

“LET THERE BE LIGHT” (Bible – Genesis 1:3)


"And then there was Light. There was only Light."

I woke up at the sound of raindrops. It was raining. The clouds were as dark as they could be. The ambience outside was, what other people would call, gloomy and dark. They would whine and complain. Darkness is “so - not - cool” for them.  I don’t think so. It’s the darkness that makes the light of so much importance.
Somebody asked me lately: “Why are your poems and stories so sad and grim? Why are they so dark?”I answered with a quote by Rammstein’s (a German band) rhythm guitarist Paul Landers:“Art should provoke and disturb people a bit. That is the whole point of doing art.”
I thought for a while and an “Idea” struck me. Art is one of those fields where a man is neither scared nor ashamed of the darkness.
I thought and thought and this is what came to my mind. A story… a conversation:

'Light is what we need. It is the darkest hour in the human history. Now what we need is a ray of hope.' Headline on the first page of a daily newspaper read.

“I don’t know what I would do without you?” said a lustrous lad with gold rimmed spectacles on his nose, sitting on a golden chair. The aura around him was dazzling. He was called LIGHT.

“Ah, it’s nothing. You know. It’s the only thing I am good at. Making people sad. Making people afraid.” Replied a voice with no source visible. Light called her his life … but she knew it’s not how this world looks upon her. She is and will always be loathed and feared as DARKNESS.

“No, you don’t understand.” said Light. “It is you and only you. You complete me. Imagine a world without you.”

“I, and I think every other face on the earth, wishes that. A world without me. A world without Darkness.” She smiled mockingly.

“No.” Light said trying to hold her hand but then withdrawing it soon. He knows he cannot touch her. “You are the one because of whom I am worthy.” He continued. “You are the reason behind me being so loved, so longed for. But I? I can’t give you anything. I am the very source of your demise. The moment I touch you, I will turn you into ‘nothing’.”

With a sigh and a grim smile Darkness said “I am nothing. I am null and void. Actually, you know it better than me, that, for every eye, I am non-existent.”

“I know. I know it very well and because of your nothingness there is something called Light. When you are there, even a single ray of mine is longed for. But they don’t know that Light has always longed for the Darkness. The Darkness, that resides in each and every heart, but they are ashamed of her. The Darkness, that marks the very existence of Light.  The Darkness that is another face of human nature: be it sorrow, envy, lie, betrayal or love. You are part of them and they are part of you. You are omnipresent. You are selfless. You are the one who forces them to turn to me. And yet, you bear the burden of their cynicism and condemnation. I wonder, the reason one can’t see God is because one can’t see Darkness.”

“Shshhh. Don’t ever dare to compare me with God. You know it better than anyone else that I need to be hated so that this world can go on. We love each other but we need to tread paths separately. We know that our paths can’t meet, yet we have to go on for their sake. For the sake of the Earth. For the sake of them.”

Darkness was now sobbing. Light came forward and took her in his arms.
And then, there was Light. There was only Light.

© Shreyansh Chouradia
________________________________________________________________________________
The picture above is a combination of sketches (by black ball pen) drawn by my friend Vidushi Pandey and a picture taken by me. Following are the original pictures which were later photoshopped to suit the theme:



Friday, 2 March 2012

MAN'S BEST FRIEND

My Pet : JIMMY
Camera Used - Nokia 2370 Classic (Cellphone Camera - 2 megapixels)
Photoshop - To blur the background and use of cloning tool at some places.

Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Wednesday, 25 January 2012

VANTAGE POINT ...

Taken on a journey by car near Janjgir, Chhattisgarh, India.
[Camera - Samsng Galaxy S2 Cellphone.]

Camera used - Samsung Galaxy S2 Cellphone.

Camera Used - Samsng Galaxy S2 Cellphone Camera.

Camera Used- Samsung Galaxy S 2 Cellphone Camera.

Shivrinarayan Temple : Where Shabri gave Lord Rama the berries.
Camera Used- Samsung Galaxy S 2 Cellphone Camera.



Tuesday, 24 January 2012

THE DARK NIGHT


Photoshopped by compiling several images of my photography.


A flame devours me with all its might
In the cold darkness, the angels took flight
So cool, so dark; a chill ran down my spine
A story where Satan eludes the God’s sight.

It’s a story of that very night.

Frail were the angels, who remained on that land,
With wings down and their mourning face;
They wept and cried so much, so on
That the dark wind howled in that silent night.

It’s a story of that very night.

With all the blood spilled on the ground
And heads and limbs twisted around
So foul the stench of blood and guts,
It was a rule of the weak over might.

It’s a story of that very night.

Don’t know how scrapes of paper,
Possessed the power to buy a man.
A bargain we made to slay ourselves,
A barter for doom made with delight.

It’s a story of that very night.

Women cried, Children died,
Yet the angels could do nothing;
With their wings burning, they lay there,
Such was that horrible sight.

It’s a story of that very night.

God cried with a heavy heart
He could do nothing but see;
For WE welcomed this fate on ourselves,
With a heart full of vengeance and spite.

It’s a story of that very night.

“A day will come”, spoke a Stranger. “When this will end.
“Though some angels’ wings are burning now
“And the others have flown away
“Yet there remains a hope, in darkness lies a ray of light.

“It’s the story of every single night.

“With night and darkness all over,
“We cried once again together
“The night has bring us all together
“And this union is mightier than the Might.

“It’s the same story every single night.

“It’s time we stand for what is wrong
“We stand together against the dark
“With a passion to overcome the wrong within
“Its time we stand for fair and right."

Amidst the cries, His words were lost
In the howling wind, that stranger stood
With a torch, a flame, to show us the way
Was He the God, or just a Sprite?

It’s a story of that very night.

Some threw stones at Him,
Some fired at Him, the filthy words;
With a drop of tear in His eyes,
He turned back, leaving us in fright.

It’s a story of that very night.

The wind stopped howling;
A voice boomed across the horizon.
A voice with a power to silence the cries;
The voice of the Stranger, but no one in sight.

The voice sang that very night:

“An eternal passion burning inside,
“A distant dream kept aside.
“The world won’t see the world as I see
It’s a darker day and a brighter night.

It is the story of that very night.
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