Wednesday, October 29, 2008

8. Aham Brahmasmi


We are born, and we die!
And at the interval, we are controlled...
Our lives are anything but ours
Right from the first word we understand to mean anything
To the fossil our bodies are transformed into after death.

Today, a particular decision that I take in life may be influenced by the way my mother spoke to a fruit vendor several years ago. While making my decision, I may vaguely remember the same. Another one may be because of a particular colour my eyes liked as an infant. Such decisions influenced by what lies in the sub-conscious and the unconscious mind are according to me what many term as instinct. Every life has events presenting themselves to the person living it. For every event the person has a reaction which could range from no action to an action in any direction of behaviour. Is it then right to say that any instinct within us is purely ours. The factors that cause us to react to any event range from our genetic pattern to the way we perceive elements around us - human or otherwise. Faced with such a daunting task of finding our true self during our lifetime, can any of us successfully become our own superhero by creating a new self out of the mind alone. Can we think about exactly what we want to be, and tweak our traits?


Synthesis of the I -

1. This method is congenial to anyone who believes that he/she is real outside the conditioning he/she has received via extternal elements.

2. The first step is to create an environment within one's own thought consisting of a male and a female element as their union is how creation manifests itself upon our dimension. Like the maternal or paternal genetic traits become dominant in a child, the domination of the male element or the female in this virtual environment determines the traits of the I.

3. One needs to also bring in to the environment, one or more reference points in the form of other people (preferably somebody who mobilises one positively at that given time) and reason out to the self as to why the particular choice was made. Only if all questions concerning the same are answered by the self can one proceed. This is done so that during the transition between the self and the I, one does not get stuck in the oblivion of confusion or self denial.

Note - The reference point can be the person of the opposite sex from 2. but never the self.

4. The next step is arguably the most important one and it involves search of the spirit for the self. Each individual has a spirit to which he/she is connected closely almost as one. the spirit could be a behavioural pattern, a psychedelic, a question, an unceasing will to perform a task etc. Realising one's spirit is best if undertaken wholly by the self with as little external assistance as possible.

5. Once the spirit has been realised, one needs to relate its effect to the male and the female element in 2. This fusion may cause different emotions and if one finds oneself in an unfavourable position, one has to go back to their reference point and start this step over again.

6. This step will explain itself to you if you are successful.

Monday, September 15, 2008

7. She


I once happened to witness a land
where people flew up to the Sun
A land where houses had no windows,
Horses had no reigns
I pondered about this impossibility of reason
A doctrine so precise -
And I felt the land beckoned to me
I feared , for I was naive
All in me was vice!
But the lust in me conquered
And I left my steps astray
Then saturation was obtained
Of tranquility and calm.
Hazardous mind stopped its rampant overture
An adjective of definition does not exist -
to compare my cleansation
I wondered what struck me
I thought which fairyland could ever touch my aura
Till i realised I entered your heart!!


Me - Why did you go alone to the rave without telling me? I would have taken myself to a downer party - Devdas ishtyle.

Her - I seriously don't know. The wind carried me and many faces invited me. Happy, sad & mad!

Me - Ha, that's ok then. The wind is a bastard. I knew it could not have been you.

Her - It is so funny. You now look upside down.

Me - Upside down is psy enough isn't it?

Her - Yeah! Whatever dude. The rivers I swam in were beautiful. Too bad they don't let goats swim in them.

Me - Am I a goat?

Her - Ask yourself. How am I supposed to know?

Me - Thats the point. I thought you were supposed to.

Her - I told you it was the wind.

Me - Yeah! How could I forget (*smile*).

Her - So, if you're done with your scream now, what else's up?

Me - Well, the colours in the sky have just arrived. They have decided to dance themselves. They like my music. God knows what they'll draw!

Her - Something beautiful I'm sure. (*a little wicked smile*)

Me - I just hallucinated again.

Her - Whatever dude!

Me - I trip on the way you say that.

Her - Aye! smeenish - although there is no such word.

Me - Two retards are talking to each other.

Wait! Two? There's only me writing this shit!!



Sketch courtesy - Joey Waldon

6. It is what it may be if it could not be what it was meant to be!!


there you go, become a fundamental dildo!
seeping into lust and her wings
here you are facing light in your night
creation

what's become of my learning - erased
the snail crawls on my back
race your mind, oppose the clocks
fall away into your capture

million clicks of a burning flame
makes you scared - push away the blame
red is black and blue is grey
survival

what's become of my pride - mixed
dissolving with sugar
vomit the angels, revolve, rotate
drink the abortion

sniff the snail crawling into your ear
tell your brain to welcome the charade
what remorse will joy repair?
realisation

the dots connect and the milk becomes opaque
seeking its kill, its orgasm
membranes commute into their host
welcoming the snail's intent
together we can run away into urns of blood soothing the brain
the pixels befriend your eye and the genie sips on success

the host permits it - the snail practises disarray of the impulse
ridiculing the absolute becomes its existence
the flakes are the most alive, uniting and growing
bare skin is religion!

5. Lullaby



This one is about a farmer who is in the process of killing his whole family because of a pathetic drought. He has killed everyone except his son. He wants his son to be asleep when he kills him so he waits for the boy to sleep. This is about the thoughts in his mind at that juncture.

Son, we shall meet again
Among fields of crimson light.
Embrace the murky horizon,
And let the wind get tight
The storm of the passing nimbus
Shall get us to salvage pride
Please join me in this joyride!

Son, I do forget that
Your pain was all you possessed;
Its been ages since the drought has begun
Its been ages since you were caressed.
Balancing through the stride
I ask you these rules to abide
Please join me in this joyride!

Let the mirror reflect away all the venom
stung in by the nice and the vice.
Deeper than the lies you told, sharper than your head
Remember what i said!

4. United States of America (Underworld)


Soaked with volatile greed
Sucking off every ounce of pretence
Its a demoniacal allergy
An escape of the soul
The riddance of the agony within
The vow's bliss; lateral hierarchy
Horizon calls the blend towards it
With an anamalous magnetic attraction
The farce on the hand that serves thee
knows the poison devoid in him
Supressing wavelengths everyday!

3. The Samsara and the curse of the White Fairy


Flaming, speeding fire trail,
What do you ask of me?
Your moving streaks have made me pale.
What is lost is what i see...

Open the skies and suck me in
Make me rule or make me sin
For I'm weary of this mortal skin
As it cages me, enrages me
Unfolding dark tunnels of eerie screams
Fall out of the line because I need to
Remind her that what was perhaps was perhaps
The only thing that really was!


When one is stuck between the real and the unreal, what is the ideal thing to do? I would say that it is to get back to the most true feeling that you've had. But here the most true feeling is that hallucination. Her skin at two-finger reach. Her bright luminosity stopping my touch. What am I supposed to do when such complexities are intertwined? Why am I not asinine? Why am I not really dumb? Dumb enough to forget even before remembering. Its like this one compartment - one sector in my grey matter, that has been reserved. Never to be erased. Read only memory! Too bad punter - She spits on you. Go, cry to the streets and they'll slap you. Because that is what you probably deserve - to be ground to intellectual powder because you can neither dissolve nor be touched. Your fate is to exist for the rest of your life reading the word ALONE over and over again. It does not stop there. You'll be thrown senses that bring back your most vivid memories.

The white fairy adores her shimmering reflection on the lake front. She remembers the time she kissed the urchin. That was before discovering the taste of sugar. He warned her of the bitter repercussions but she flaunted the difference of opinion. He cried because he knew that the present was just a moment that was about to explode into vanity. She disagreed. She still does. He cried. He still does. She is now married to the Son of the Moonlord living in opulent bliss possessing everything she ever desired. He has been shunned. He can feel but does not exist anymore! He can see everything that he desired possessed by another being. Do you see him running on the streets laughing at almost nothing? Please laugh at him. He is his own amusement. His own recreation...

I clicked my lighter on. The dark room was a stranger to the orange spark. But I was no stranger to her. Her eyes rose from the horizon. With infinite poise in them as the dry biochemical in the pipe burnt to black ash. Was she supposed to blink? Was I supposed to kiss the almighty oneness? Were we ever supposed to tread that specific path that otherwise would have made only a trifling difference.

I can hear things. Who is doing this and why? I don't get the point. I hate free will because I use it as an excuse to cling on to my ultimate misery - loss, you see? Do you see? How can you? Its mine. Alas!

Carry the ceiling away. And force the ladder through. I want to climb into the skies of tranquility. To have the power to control, and more importantly create something on my own. (*Hearing things again*)


Picture courtesy : Shivlink Records (cover art for the VA - Samsara)

2. A Cry to my Pen


My impulses extend into your nerve as ink
My thoughts are these verses,
Mortal earth makes faces in a blink
Such are my doomed curses!
No seconds to stop, to halt, to think
Wage a battle against its forces.

Too much to ask and too much to give
I pray for death but want to live
I'm inside me and far beyond
Far enough to fathom a bond.

Against my will, against my pain
I dream aloud to remain sane
I greet the dead, celebrate the rain
Alas! my purpose - all in vain!


Note - This is a piece of text compiled to attract cognitive garbage with a goal to make the recycling of paper intellectually more effective.