the other side of the hill.
is the road less travelled
where sun resides forever
where haze dies,
brutally with every blink
and memories arise every
new minute.
it's where you stand alone,
unabashed
with winds and hawks
singing in a monologic delight
the space bends to you
as dreams die,
in sundry reality of life
the other side of the hill
where not many survive,
not many realise,
neither the blind nor the wise
the place called the other side
Dec 29, 2008
Dec 26, 2008
the story
i have experienced the state, when i'm not comfortable in being numb. Despite of a splitting headache gruelling my enormous nerves. It's like looking up the sky and finding it immensely cryptic, when clouds seem familiar and strangers at the same time.
There is no respite because there exists no problem. There is no pain, for there is no hope. This all engulfing feeling is 'nothing' and nothing is surely pervasive today. Meanwhile jaded hands try to sync with coldplay, crooning lonely in the backdrop of a frameless mind.
Wish i could explain the point from which things appear blurred. Like a deviant shadow, difficult to discard, and dangerous to keep. The truth is i demand a lot and never give up.
This is where the story ends or begins perhaps.
There is no respite because there exists no problem. There is no pain, for there is no hope. This all engulfing feeling is 'nothing' and nothing is surely pervasive today. Meanwhile jaded hands try to sync with coldplay, crooning lonely in the backdrop of a frameless mind.
Wish i could explain the point from which things appear blurred. Like a deviant shadow, difficult to discard, and dangerous to keep. The truth is i demand a lot and never give up.
This is where the story ends or begins perhaps.
Dec 24, 2008
oh jesus!
The town is painted red, i see stars all over the place. In the crowded mall, at the coffeebar. a tiny one on the tea stall and mostly over my head. i see humungus stars, like the galaxy hovering on tin-tin and calvin. They get me dizzy, indicative of an apparent sickness. The christmas sickness.
Amid the gala of black santa at office(black is the new white, as said by obama), i made a few observations, worthy of the space here.
1> Christmas is a polite way of spreading greed. Like an epidemic, greed envelops everybody, from the sweet old baker to a barely talking two-year olds. Going by the indian definition of gift, in the times of recession, christmas will become the fastest route to bankruptcy.
2> Many of the christmas rituals were celebrated before Christ was born. Therefore it's easy to guess the amount of truth behind the cause of celebrating christmas as the 'birth of christ'. Acoording to historians, Romans declared 25th December to celebrate Saturnia-a festival of merriment. Whereas christmas was invented to compete the pagan festival on the same date. So christmas marked the birth of resentment, more than anything else.
(look how resentment is celebrated now)
3>How many people celebrating Christmas know even the c of Christ? The ones who know, seem to remember everything but the religious aspect of it. Most of us remember it for exotic plum cakes or the flamboyant rum and turkey delight. Applying the same logic of Diwali reduced to a day of free lunches complimentary with presents.
(MERRYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!chrismas).
on the rosy side,
Christmas brings in gaiety and merriment to a lot of people. A lot of fat people get to make big dough in the disguise of the big donor, where kilograms are weighed in currency.
(The more the merry)
Dec 21, 2008
growing up
there, in the soft mud
i saw it sprouting,
the seed of a being
rooted to it's cause (of)
-binding freedom-
in its undaunted existence.
the harp and the arrow
failed to shelter,
for fear is hard to kill
and killing is feared no more
in the by-lanes of life
walking brave this time.
i saw it sprouting,
the seed of a being
rooted to it's cause (of)
-binding freedom-
in its undaunted existence.
the harp and the arrow
failed to shelter,
for fear is hard to kill
and killing is feared no more
in the by-lanes of life
walking brave this time.
Dec 18, 2008
the blue night
like a whizzer,
on the naked sand
~sepentined~
in arms of disarray
touch me,
and i bite
fold me,
and i whine.
poison me,
and i shine
till then, wait for the blue night
Dec 15, 2008
pours the porcelain
In my dreams I'm dying all the time
Then I wake its a kaleidoscopic mind
I never meant to hurt you
I never meant to lie
So this is goodbye This is goodbye...
There are songs of pain and there are songs of ecstasy. And in between lies a moment of heightened gravity where things fall back flat, unperturbed. The song attempts to capture the visuals of the same through an intriguing serenade. The hues of grey are defined well in the melodies blurred
This one has been customarily tagged as a break-up song but i most assertively deny, for i experience the poise of the singer not seen in those circumstances otherwise. If there exists a thing called sweet pain, i am sure has emanated from this heart and transversed through the abysmal of a dense clay material.
This song is all-engulfing, in the train, on the bike and other pervasive sources of noise alike. This song requires no particular mood, to swing to. It doesn't make you wobble your booty, it it makes you wobble your heart, (coming from an avant-garde known for his house-booties jiggling on the house). It's peppy yet non-chalant, it's sonorous yet dull. It's dark yet flickeringly delightful.
I invaded 'the extreme ways' and ' flower', but came back most accomplished on this track. It's wonderfully created. and i thereby proclaim to be a moby-fan.
Then I wake its a kaleidoscopic mind
I never meant to hurt you
I never meant to lie
So this is goodbye This is goodbye...
There are songs of pain and there are songs of ecstasy. And in between lies a moment of heightened gravity where things fall back flat, unperturbed. The song attempts to capture the visuals of the same through an intriguing serenade. The hues of grey are defined well in the melodies blurred
This one has been customarily tagged as a break-up song but i most assertively deny, for i experience the poise of the singer not seen in those circumstances otherwise. If there exists a thing called sweet pain, i am sure has emanated from this heart and transversed through the abysmal of a dense clay material.
This song is all-engulfing, in the train, on the bike and other pervasive sources of noise alike. This song requires no particular mood, to swing to. It doesn't make you wobble your booty, it it makes you wobble your heart, (coming from an avant-garde known for his house-booties jiggling on the house). It's peppy yet non-chalant, it's sonorous yet dull. It's dark yet flickeringly delightful.
I invaded 'the extreme ways' and ' flower', but came back most accomplished on this track. It's wonderfully created. and i thereby proclaim to be a moby-fan.
Dec 13, 2008
love bestowed
uphill,
the shrine of insanity
i stand seeking.
the virtue
which translates clouds into sheets splattered
and wind into the dreams woven underneath
atop,
lies a treasure devoid of emotions unclean
surrounded by guards of deceit
selling hearts in bits and piece
and the takers queue
in the form of prayers unsung.
the shrine of insanity
i stand seeking.
the virtue
which translates clouds into sheets splattered
and wind into the dreams woven underneath
atop,
lies a treasure devoid of emotions unclean
surrounded by guards of deceit
selling hearts in bits and piece
and the takers queue
in the form of prayers unsung.
Dec 12, 2008
unearthly worm
splatter splatter
wisdom rains
in a pot full of drain
and wakes the
crawly worm.
sneaking in the landscapes
of muddy houses
to find his earth,
he calls as home
Dec 8, 2008
my electric blue cloud
seer at my house,
rave at my heart
fizzle of an acid,
tearing all apart.
in a flash of wisdom,
vices disappear far
engulfing me in a thwart
like a nail on a pink wall
white lies, opaque in twilight
blubbering a penitence within
clasping its drenched hands
in it's acts of rinse and rinse
and grows the platypus merrily,
in a dainty grove beneath
when it offers a warm nap
drifting the drops and dreams
rave at my heart
fizzle of an acid,
tearing all apart.
in a flash of wisdom,
vices disappear far
engulfing me in a thwart
like a nail on a pink wall
white lies, opaque in twilight
blubbering a penitence within
clasping its drenched hands
in it's acts of rinse and rinse
and grows the platypus merrily,
in a dainty grove beneath
when it offers a warm nap
drifting the drops and dreams
Dec 6, 2008
sale to the horizon
on the falling raft,
as the ennui resides
bring forth my arm
to know i do survive
the waters aren't buoyant
the seas aren't still
the mist is prolonged
and the ray seems defined
drift me away from the shore of words
as i count the sand, bereft of letters in it.
as the ennui resides
bring forth my arm
to know i do survive
the waters aren't buoyant
the seas aren't still
the mist is prolonged
and the ray seems defined
drift me away from the shore of words
as i count the sand, bereft of letters in it.
Dec 3, 2008
the prince and the pauper, with roles reversed more than often
Freud and Hitler, two of the most influential personalities go on becoming their biggest opponents from being room-mates for years. 
Nov 30, 2008
ravaged part II
Post the havoc caused by in humans in Mumbai, I admit of being shaken to the extent of falling to words, in an attempt to vent out. I wouldn't sound typical by blaming the authorities, which anyway has become the latest national anthem. I wouldn't tell tales of brutality, the men in the sheath of religion have concurred. For, I candidly claim of having touched by the relentless odour of terrorism.
I like many more individuals was unshamedly unaware of the terrorist attacks, until it became talk of the office and country at large. I saw people who had never, not even accidentally had stopped at a news channel, staying glued to 24*7 news ,all night in enormous grit. I however overlooked and underestimated the scenic appalling at my own TV set until I seered into the eyes, which had pain beyond explanation.
There were arms, and there were corpses, both competing against each in number and size. There was silence and shrieks both muting the loudest of crowds. It was not terror against man, it was history re-lived, cropped from incidents like The jaliawallah and likes. The gun shots turned everything to stand still, including an inkling to live. As heard from the survivors themselves.
Here are some facts which pondered me to write an incident i was waken to~
1. The fisherman Union claims of having complained to the naval authorities about the enormous RDX loading on the sea post.
2. Intelligence had informed officials, including chief minister and home minister about a terror attack in Mumbai On November11 through a satellite phone reading.
3.The NSG forces took more than four hours to get into action after having being informed of the terrorist captive, where by then the death toll had already surmounted in the hotel firing.
4. talking of unity, after the attacks, it was interesting to know that our leaders, did i say (Leader of the Opposition) L.K. Advani and the PM travelled to Mumbai on separate aeroplanes.
5.operation 'water rat'-an expose conducted by CNN-IBN to estimate security measures at our coast revealed the area is in a state of utter regress. There was absolutely no security post, which should have otherwise been strict and vigilant.
and lastly:
The pigeons outside the Gateway of India opposite to once a massive Taj, have stories of horror to tell. They not only witnessed acts of brutality, but have sobered to the extent of laying numb in there. According to the locals, the birds haven't moved an inch after the bullet exchange in the past three days. They lay immobile, engrossed in humanity perhaps.
( I pray for their well-being too!)
I like many more individuals was unshamedly unaware of the terrorist attacks, until it became talk of the office and country at large. I saw people who had never, not even accidentally had stopped at a news channel, staying glued to 24*7 news ,all night in enormous grit. I however overlooked and underestimated the scenic appalling at my own TV set until I seered into the eyes, which had pain beyond explanation.
There were arms, and there were corpses, both competing against each in number and size. There was silence and shrieks both muting the loudest of crowds. It was not terror against man, it was history re-lived, cropped from incidents like The jaliawallah and likes. The gun shots turned everything to stand still, including an inkling to live. As heard from the survivors themselves.
Here are some facts which pondered me to write an incident i was waken to~
1. The fisherman Union claims of having complained to the naval authorities about the enormous RDX loading on the sea post.
2. Intelligence had informed officials, including chief minister and home minister about a terror attack in Mumbai On November11 through a satellite phone reading.
3.The NSG forces took more than four hours to get into action after having being informed of the terrorist captive, where by then the death toll had already surmounted in the hotel firing.
4. talking of unity, after the attacks, it was interesting to know that our leaders, did i say (Leader of the Opposition) L.K. Advani and the PM travelled to Mumbai on separate aeroplanes.
5.operation 'water rat'-an expose conducted by CNN-IBN to estimate security measures at our coast revealed the area is in a state of utter regress. There was absolutely no security post, which should have otherwise been strict and vigilant.
and lastly:
The pigeons outside the Gateway of India opposite to once a massive Taj, have stories of horror to tell. They not only witnessed acts of brutality, but have sobered to the extent of laying numb in there. According to the locals, the birds haven't moved an inch after the bullet exchange in the past three days. They lay immobile, engrossed in humanity perhaps.
( I pray for their well-being too!)
Nov 29, 2008
ravaged
in the skelet of
humanity
pinned another
wretch
corpses bleed, in the bruise of somebody
else
thunders,
applauds
and inconsolable sighs
emanated
from a fire destroying self constructed
homes
to the bearing, it was much more indeed
to the bullets, it was a sky beneath
and to the spectators, a show of higher curiosity
big, bang boom, "mom diwali arrived pretty early, too soon".
Nov 24, 2008
degeneration
Painting by Edson Diasunheard voices,
sneering glances,
chained in sermons
of a convoluted self.
why do i become what i never was?
through the glamorous process
of birth, lust and mediocrity alas.
where beauty of a flower
remains trapped in rosy verbose
where seasons flutter
in the storm of thoughts
through robotics of wit,
and sarcasm, bleeding profuse,
in this ghastly 'all'
sneering glances,
chained in sermons
of a convoluted self.
why do i become what i never was?
through the glamorous process
of birth, lust and mediocrity alas.
where beauty of a flower
remains trapped in rosy verbose
where seasons flutter
in the storm of thoughts
through robotics of wit,
and sarcasm, bleeding profuse,
in this ghastly 'all'
the delicately woven reverie
couldn't make it to the top
for all there lying,
was a nail bearing ball
as million faces plunged in cavity
which deepened only remorse
greying every single day
oh cowardly soul, what fears you the most
a heartless form or a broken heart in hand?
couldn't make it to the top
for all there lying,
was a nail bearing ball
as million faces plunged in cavity
which deepened only remorse
greying every single day
oh cowardly soul, what fears you the most
a heartless form or a broken heart in hand?
Nov 20, 2008
when journey makes you forget the destination
I am tired of running, breathing sporadically through my frozen nose. Yes, i have been chased since the time i don't exactly remember and I'm not talking about my unfaithful shadow here. I try to eye the enemy through semi-numb senses, which lands me into a cavernous abysmal. This fall is extremely unpleasant and no matter how much i holler (through my fully numb senses now), i have the world unheeded to my tribulation. the journey inside is dramatic, from extreme fear to extreme void. Quite transient to the extent of waking me up cruelly every morning.
Clearly this ain't no dream but the horrendous of horrendous nightmares, the ones which brutally make you realise that you're alive. Each day i see myself in this abysmal, going to a place, popularly addressed as nowhere. Here void becomes the only thing of clarity you have in your head. Each day i sweat profusely seeing this anon enemy, while shadows only foul-play occasionally. It's not that I'm blinded or daft to find out the cause, but over the time I've become a victim of my own self, my own 'fatigued self'.
Interestingly, i take pride in discerning the fact that in this treacherous journey, i seek great comfort in crumpling the stones i meet on my path. 'Anger', 'Jealously', 'Indifference' are bleeding bruised, while their scars are clearly visible on my body. Deception is one thing, i strongly don't believe in, which is why the enemies always manage to spot me from a distance. Their footmarks trail along mine, while the difference is categorically seen in the end. Where my footmarks lose out to the magnum space, i receive in the void. It is then i begin to feel alive, floating to the loose shreds of my sub-conscious. To it i surrender a lot more than just the senses.
Clearly this ain't no dream but the horrendous of horrendous nightmares, the ones which brutally make you realise that you're alive. Each day i see myself in this abysmal, going to a place, popularly addressed as nowhere. Here void becomes the only thing of clarity you have in your head. Each day i sweat profusely seeing this anon enemy, while shadows only foul-play occasionally. It's not that I'm blinded or daft to find out the cause, but over the time I've become a victim of my own self, my own 'fatigued self'.
Interestingly, i take pride in discerning the fact that in this treacherous journey, i seek great comfort in crumpling the stones i meet on my path. 'Anger', 'Jealously', 'Indifference' are bleeding bruised, while their scars are clearly visible on my body. Deception is one thing, i strongly don't believe in, which is why the enemies always manage to spot me from a distance. Their footmarks trail along mine, while the difference is categorically seen in the end. Where my footmarks lose out to the magnum space, i receive in the void. It is then i begin to feel alive, floating to the loose shreds of my sub-conscious. To it i surrender a lot more than just the senses.
Nov 19, 2008
shine on emerald (a dedication)
Give me a word
Give me a sign
Show me where to look
Tell what will I find ( will I find )
Lay me on the ground
Fly me in the sky
Show me where to look
Tell me what will I find ( will I find )
Oh, heaven let your light shine down (x4)
Love is in the water
Love is in the air
Show me where to go
Tell me will love be there ( love be there )
Teach me how to speak
Teach me how to share
Teach me where to go
Tell me will love be there ( love be there )
Oh, heaven let your light shine down (x4)
Im going to let it shine (x2)
Heavens little light gonna shine on me
Yea yea heavens little light gonna shine on me
Its gonna shine, shine on me
Its gonna shine, come on in shine
...................................
shine-collective soul
Give me a sign
Show me where to look
Tell what will I find ( will I find )
Lay me on the ground
Fly me in the sky
Show me where to look
Tell me what will I find ( will I find )
Oh, heaven let your light shine down (x4)
Love is in the water
Love is in the air
Show me where to go
Tell me will love be there ( love be there )
Teach me how to speak
Teach me how to share
Teach me where to go
Tell me will love be there ( love be there )
Oh, heaven let your light shine down (x4)
Im going to let it shine (x2)
Heavens little light gonna shine on me
Yea yea heavens little light gonna shine on me
Its gonna shine, shine on me
Its gonna shine, come on in shine
...................................
shine-collective soul
Nov 18, 2008
How sweet!
"These candies appear tempting, i plan to flick coupla them"(a bunch of toffees which would remind you of those 3-year-olds running across the field in the hues of electric blue, pink and yellow)
"well! they're all expired, i believe"
"oh, so why are they are here?( boss, we're at a candy manufacturer's boardroom, what else do you expect?)
"you know the country is facing a strong economic recession and may be the client has something in mind", says the servicing chick with an einstein look on her face.
ha ha ha... (bosses are always known for their amazing sense of humour)
"huhaaaaaf past three", i say it in a musical yawn only to conceal my dumb silence.
"our stuff is great, i hope we sell them this time round", meanwhile i am told, " i expect you to be 'sweet' to the client which means speak as little as you can".
yes boss!
...............................................................
"and here is the mind-numbing, eye-grabbing, scintiallting, oh so riveting(while the client is lost in checking out vivek oberoi, semi-nude in the thought blurb)..........................unimaginably witty creative"
SFX: drum rolls out
"it's nice, it's naughty(no the brand is not the pink nokia phone priyanka chopra is promoting), its cheeky too", replies the client biting her lips(she must have gone in the pool as well!!!)
but.......my only concern is it's not 'sweet'
i grin at the boss innocently(note- i'm still mum)
"Ms.. i beg to interrupt, but the brief was 'funnnnnnnnnn"( trying hard not to concentrate on the remark, the servicing chic just made)
"but you must remember at the end of the day the purpose of our product is to spread sweetness", replies the client
(and crash them into inconsolable diabetes, you fuck-face, i have to speak! in my head of course.)
"'i think our personal favourite is this route"", said in chorus( i wonder if these servicin chicks have been sleeping together or what)
the client seems to ignore that as always
The next creative is presented, "It;s a story of a guy.....and see the title of this story is 'how sweet'', while i grin away to glory
"well now you have no reasons to complaint i presume", making it clear obvious that i am the writer on this.
"hahaaa, this is funny", the client looks at me.
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaa- the servicing chics in chorus again
and i am smiling sweetly to the former ofcourse.
(by now the boss has gone into an identity crisis)
"hmmm...,
i think my fellow here would like to sleep over the idea, and get back to you", curtly says the client
"now what should i give you?", shrieks the servicin chick in her usual tone
"may be an expensive bed and pink sheets", winks the other one.
hahaha, " you know what's the scene on this Dubai film, i think.."
"oh come now you;re digressing from the agenda madum", snaps the servicing at the client.
(while i am saved from visualising the client on those pink sheets with oberoi now, i would choose Obama, not that twain have a remotest co-relation here)
"alright then ladies and 'a gentleman', we shall get back to you in the evening", quite evidently the client seems to has given up on morons like us.
meanwhile i checked my watch it was 4.30 already.
"sure, it was nice meeting you today" (servicin, i heard you guys complaining of cranky clients who call you for a job meeting every hour)
as the meeting comes to its finale, i said "ok then, hope you have a good sleep", sweetly.
followed by a ROFL by the client and a mourning back in office.
"well! they're all expired, i believe"
"oh, so why are they are here?( boss, we're at a candy manufacturer's boardroom, what else do you expect?)
"you know the country is facing a strong economic recession and may be the client has something in mind", says the servicing chick with an einstein look on her face.
ha ha ha... (bosses are always known for their amazing sense of humour)
"huhaaaaaf past three", i say it in a musical yawn only to conceal my dumb silence.
"our stuff is great, i hope we sell them this time round", meanwhile i am told, " i expect you to be 'sweet' to the client which means speak as little as you can".
yes boss!
...............................................................
"and here is the mind-numbing, eye-grabbing, scintiallting, oh so riveting(while the client is lost in checking out vivek oberoi, semi-nude in the thought blurb)..........................unimaginably witty creative"
SFX: drum rolls out
"it's nice, it's naughty(no the brand is not the pink nokia phone priyanka chopra is promoting), its cheeky too", replies the client biting her lips(she must have gone in the pool as well!!!)
but.......my only concern is it's not 'sweet'
i grin at the boss innocently(note- i'm still mum)
"Ms.. i beg to interrupt, but the brief was 'funnnnnnnnnn"( trying hard not to concentrate on the remark, the servicing chic just made)
"but you must remember at the end of the day the purpose of our product is to spread sweetness", replies the client
(and crash them into inconsolable diabetes, you fuck-face, i have to speak! in my head of course.)
"'i think our personal favourite is this route"", said in chorus( i wonder if these servicin chicks have been sleeping together or what)
the client seems to ignore that as always
The next creative is presented, "It;s a story of a guy.....and see the title of this story is 'how sweet'', while i grin away to glory
"well now you have no reasons to complaint i presume", making it clear obvious that i am the writer on this.
"hahaaa, this is funny", the client looks at me.
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaa- the servicing chics in chorus again
and i am smiling sweetly to the former ofcourse.
(by now the boss has gone into an identity crisis)
"hmmm...,
i think my fellow here would like to sleep over the idea, and get back to you", curtly says the client
"now what should i give you?", shrieks the servicin chick in her usual tone
"may be an expensive bed and pink sheets", winks the other one.
hahaha, " you know what's the scene on this Dubai film, i think.."
"oh come now you;re digressing from the agenda madum", snaps the servicing at the client.
(while i am saved from visualising the client on those pink sheets with oberoi now, i would choose Obama, not that twain have a remotest co-relation here)
"alright then ladies and 'a gentleman', we shall get back to you in the evening", quite evidently the client seems to has given up on morons like us.
meanwhile i checked my watch it was 4.30 already.
"sure, it was nice meeting you today" (servicin, i heard you guys complaining of cranky clients who call you for a job meeting every hour)
as the meeting comes to its finale, i said "ok then, hope you have a good sleep", sweetly.
followed by a ROFL by the client and a mourning back in office.
Nov 17, 2008
un-wind
today i plod on winds,
unflinchingly
for it bears an incense
purantic.
what's been in the air for sometime,
is legible only now
i colour no more,
for the space is already mine.
and this possession
is no price for the freedom it
yields,
electrical like the blue sky,
eccentric like the cuckoo's nest
beauty in peace
and peace therein.
unflinchingly
for it bears an incense
purantic.
what's been in the air for sometime,
is legible only now
i colour no more,
for the space is already mine.
and this possession
is no price for the freedom it
yields,
electrical like the blue sky,
eccentric like the cuckoo's nest
beauty in peace
and peace therein.
Nov 16, 2008
Angry young(and older) man
anger is the second name for 'inflated ego'
anger is the hazardous black which ignites the matchstick, burning homes
anger cannot be controlled. It makes you loose control,
anger is not a tornado or a low tide, it is but a cumilation of both, on a moonless night
anger equals to destruction, anger is anti-peace
anger is the bullet, injuring wisdom
anger cannot be CHANNELISED, it burns all the routes,
i stop here, i don't think anger in any form can dispel any of the above stated. so venting it is out of question. it's more like a treadmill, the more you pull it out, the more it comes to you. Most importantly it hinders the foresight, rupturing your very faithful sight for that matter.
Having said all this one cant really stop treading anger, but be aware of its destination. 'awareness' is conspicuously essential but comes with a twist here. The more you make the world aware of your anger, the more will be its repercussions, which would mean instead of burning four windows, you burn six now. Anger becomes an Achilles heel, faltering your own steps here.
Those who say that anger is momentary and is good to vent it(the 5 minute volcano active-volcano dies policy) for it's very good riddance is nothing but casuistry. Because they are the people who ignore the implication of that 5 minutes of untreated fire. Anger breeds in the periphery of your conscience and when you channelise it, you allow it to grow. It must be killed at the point of origin itself, that's where awareness comes into picture. Anger cant be defeated, it has to be depleted. Go, angry young man, kill it before it kills you.
anger is the hazardous black which ignites the matchstick, burning homes
anger cannot be controlled. It makes you loose control,
anger is not a tornado or a low tide, it is but a cumilation of both, on a moonless night
anger equals to destruction, anger is anti-peace
anger is the bullet, injuring wisdom
anger cannot be CHANNELISED, it burns all the routes,
i stop here, i don't think anger in any form can dispel any of the above stated. so venting it is out of question. it's more like a treadmill, the more you pull it out, the more it comes to you. Most importantly it hinders the foresight, rupturing your very faithful sight for that matter.
Having said all this one cant really stop treading anger, but be aware of its destination. 'awareness' is conspicuously essential but comes with a twist here. The more you make the world aware of your anger, the more will be its repercussions, which would mean instead of burning four windows, you burn six now. Anger becomes an Achilles heel, faltering your own steps here.
Those who say that anger is momentary and is good to vent it(the 5 minute volcano active-volcano dies policy) for it's very good riddance is nothing but casuistry. Because they are the people who ignore the implication of that 5 minutes of untreated fire. Anger breeds in the periphery of your conscience and when you channelise it, you allow it to grow. It must be killed at the point of origin itself, that's where awareness comes into picture. Anger cant be defeated, it has to be depleted. Go, angry young man, kill it before it kills you.
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