between the binaries...

मैं और मय की खुशबु जब भी मेरे करीब आती मैं और मय की खुशबु जब भी मेरे करीब आती उम्मीदों की एक सुगबुगाहट जगा जाती कुछ घटता बाहर ऐसा जिसके संबोधन में आने की मेरी एक ख्वाहिश ही रह जाती किताबों के सफों के बीच उम्मीदों को दफना के जी रहा था मैं ऐसा की न मैं न मय ज़िन्दगी यूँ होती की कोई हसरत ही ना रह जाती

-- Because animals are property, we consider as "humane treatment" that we would regard as torture if it were inflicted on humans – Gary L. Francione He was there, in the confines of his room, sleeping unaware of everything around him. The door was smashed open. Two people, masked men, stormed into the room. He woke up with a shudder. He had weak eye-sight; but still tried to look around and gather what happened; but he couldn’t see a thing. He reached out for his glasses kept on the side table by his bed. But before he could grab them; his legs were grabbed by these unknown, unwelcomed guests. They dragged him down the bed with brute force. He banged his head against the duvet on the bed and his legs hurt. As they dragged him down the bed, he banged his head then against the edge of the bed. He did manage to touch the back of his head and saw it was bleeding. He screamed for help; but at 4’o clock in the dead of the night, no one was there for his rescue. They struck hi...

It all began that night when Sahu got that insatiable urge to get high! After all, things were going on pretty smooth of course with that standard deviation that life forces you to counter. Not that we were not surviving without the spliff; but then who the fuck could manage to reason with Sahu. He is a son-of-a-bitch, I tell you. He was the one who dragged not just himself; but me as well into this shithole of a mess. But it’s not that I was some innocent, do-gooder, docile dude. I wanted my share of spliff as well. You might have obviously heard of the booze getting on top of you; but how many instances would you recall of you getting on top of booze, like literally? Not many times, I am sure. But then that was going to happen, as those motherfuckers made both me and Sahu strip down to nothing and were forcing us to take a seat… No, don’t even expect any pleasantries. There is no room for niceties here. They were not offering us a seat. They had broken beer bottles placed rig...

शाख  पे  बैठे  हुए  एक  पत्ते  की  तरह हवा  के  झोंके  का  इंतज़ार  करते  हुए ज़िन्दगी  कुछ  इस  तरह  गुज़र  रही  है  जैसे कोई  आस  ही  न  रह  गयी  हो कभी  धुप, कभी  छाओं  की  अत्थ्खेलियों  में अपने  वजूद  की  तलाश  में इधर  उधर  बे-मकसद  उड़ते  हुए ज़िन्दगी  कुछ  इस  तरह  गुज़र  रही  है  जैसे आस  का  एक  पंची  बना खुली  हवा  को  सिर्फ  नज़रों  से  देखता पिंजरे  में  बंद  एक  पंच्छी  जैसा  मैं ज़िन्दगी  बस  गुज़र  रही  है  ऐसे...

A fan is in motion. A room is dark and filled with plumes of smoke. Walls peel off, paint smells and create a sense of nausea. A man is travelling in a cab. He doesn’t know where the cab is destined to go; but he sits there – stone-faced. A quicksand exists in all its usualness sucking in a new born baby. A fist just emerges out of the blue and keeps going back and forth. The cab makes its way through the bylanes. A flag unfurls and sways unperturbed in the thin air. A wedding procession is on its way and somewhere else a funeral pyre is burning. The meter goes on ticking and the ride goes on. A girl is drowning in the sea of currency notes; while food lies in the wastelands. The ride of the cab is going on and on. Outside the window, the city is desecrating and is in shambles. Cries, shrieks and screams fill the streets as the radio blares out songs and speeches indistinguishable from each other. They all sound like noise. The car turns towards a hu...

The rats sneak in and out of the tiny little cracks and open crevices. The sunlight, moonlight and the street light peep into the tiniest and most unreachable of corners. And yet she was quite oblivious to all of it. Living her own zone, she was quite happy to let those components be a part of her universe. It all started with her moving into my next door apartment. I never craved for any sort of company whatsoever. But then, curiosity is the mother of all fuck-ups, I should have known that. On one more of those “just passing” days, I was busy being myself – nothing. And then a faint noise of a beautiful feminine voice shook me up from my drudgery. Driven by what sounded like a voice from the heaven, a transcendental, an ethereal voice, I was driven – driven enough to check out the bearer of such soulful voice. Manners, however, taught me a different thing. Days passed by and passed by some more. Nothing much happened. Events kinda reach a standstill when your mind is too p...

A sense of abstraction surrounds me as I sit and take a sip of smooth whiskey. Unaware of what the life holds for me for tomorrow and the days to come. Is savoring the today a cardinal sin? I don't think so. After all, seize the day is the mantra for the new age folks like myself. Inconsequential existence renders one so drained out that seeking an escape becomes the only one want that we hold dear to our hearts and try to safeguard it till the time we breathe our last. What is this willingness to hold our own a product of anyways? Isn't it the product of day-to-day drudgery? I guess so. Well, then your guess can differ from mine; considering we all are a part of a post-modernist generation, aren't we? Nonetheless, here I sit. Trying to wade off today and implicitly planning my tomorrow to just solidify my sense that tomorrow is, if not better, at least as good as today. Is that again a cardinal sin? It certainly can never be. After all what will happen to all those w...