Honesty.

Shokhi Ma'm's status update: आए मेरे, देखा मुझे, बात भी की मुस्कुराए भी, पुराणी किसी पहचान की खातिर.......

कल का अख़बार था, बस देख लिया, रख भी दिया........

Me: nice one ma'm

Shokhi Ma'am : not mine ... Gulzar..... Ofcourse.

Me: The best thing and the worst things about words are that they don't carry the name of the person who wrote them yet at the same time they say the sentiments of the person who spoke it and echo the feelings of person who wrote it.

I guess they master the art of being an Honest Slut!! 

The pain of the lost poet.

If my thought could ever be translated into art they would be mural in a dark room only to be caressed by lizards....

Where the mind is without fear???

Where the Mind is stuck in Religion and the Heart filled with Hate.
Where Ego is Walloping.
Where the world is not thought of and all that is left is carcass and blood.
By the materialistic sentiments of religion.
Where hate comes from the womb of uselessness.
Where Incapacitate clerics pave way for extermination.
Where the clear stream of conscience has long lost its way.
Into the dreary desert sand of religious supremacy
Where the mind has succumbed to Saffron and Green.
Into ever worsening Battle for a Piece of a Land.
Into that Inferno, My Father. Let my Country Die in Disdain.


This is what I feel Rabindranath Tagore's mind would have spewed out today