An Emotion, Naked!

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For Heaven’s sake, I’m eating,

I howled at her,

Sin felt, she stepped back,

In a flash! Drew away those arms bony that pled,

I’d never heard that voice of mine before,

I’d seen people scoff the same,

Assumed then, these moments weren’t mine,

They’d always been cast out of my lore,

Angry I’d then been, caught off shore,

Till seconds away,

I met this stranger self of mine,

Bit me her pain, choked me that burger bite,

Freaked me out that freaking reality,

Irritation shot across, my emotion’s disguise,

Her life slithering down the drain,

Only I could munch and fill to a smile,

Sweat kissed I gasped for breath,

While the Sun missed no chance punishing her insane,

On her shoulder, that naked baby,

Maybe slumber ridden, may be dead,

Stony did it lie… Enough!

A spark, and my count at work soothed dry my crying brain,

Out of breath then my emotions naked,

Too tough on a tougher day on this poor swine,

Dipped often in strains of haze and wine,

Soon wiped clear, formatted it all seemed till late evening,

For then took over Life…

Debaroon’013

 

 

Image Credit : http://www.flickr.com/photos/40816499@N00/3583213565/

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Dragon’s Inn

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Welcome to the Dragon’s Inn,

Standing shady, luring sins,

A villainous desire draws you in,

A dip into comfort lethally seductive,

Your surrender to a deeper sink seems compulsive,

Into those dingy lanes, you’ve to report,

And, then time’s lost gazing the Red Fort,

Every morning, you try stroking out brave,

Departure is then only what you crave,

You beg futile to step out clean,

Now, out of your hands, life’s quietly slipping out, unseen,

Will devour you slow, scrub out all your sheen,

The ‘HI’ is yours, while the ‘GOODBYE’ is his,

There’s no looking back now,

Once in the grip of Delhi’s Djinn,

You gotta pay up for your share of Bliss…

Debaroon’2013

(As felt by an outstanding student of the Liberal Arts from a Prestigious American University.

A step into the Dragon’s Inn and now Delhi’s Djinn has her. She resides on the streets of Paharganj Delhi, selling herself to almost anyone and everyone, for a mere Fix.)

 

 

 

Image Credit : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hCVjreYp1E

Joker’s Treat!

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Life strolled naked,

Her hour yellow had arrived,

Her luck for the joker’s red smile,

Pity Taps gone dry yet another try,

Dirty rags forgotten,

Forgotten unwashed stained flesh,

Kissed that glass wall,

Rubbed on it some unfortunate stare,

Shooed her away her reality of the day,

Disposed now on tar to decay,

Filth today another hungry rainy day,

Behind that glass a doughnut someday,

The Joker’s treat, a flickering dream from the street,

Untamable ignited barked her desire…

Debaroon’2013

(On a young ill-clad girl, thriving on the streets of Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, India. She visits McDonald’s everyday before it opens up for customers to try her luck at mellowing down that service boy for something that may be could cost him his job, to hand her out only one and one of that stuff on that big poster, a chocolate doughnut.)

 

Image Credit:

http://www.gnomeplanet.com

Sharp a Contrast!

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Save us from the wrath of the day,

In shorts with folded hands,

Bowing our heads to the Goddess, we used to say,

Our class queues ascended in that assembly,

From shorts to trousers, cardigans to blazers we grew gradually,

The Poet now ran in our veins, Tagore rang in our ears,

His verses stood against time,

A part and parcel of our morning prayers,

Our pledge for life to fulfil His dreams,

Where men would radiate parity beams,

No matter how fair ripened their cream,

They’d to work on only themselves, individually,

Each drop should contribute to an ocean someday,

An ocean of voices, thoughts and actions for equality,

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Ten years down the line,

Now a stranger to that school,

Caught up in tougher currents of life,

I was coming down from a relative’s birthday party,

Stopped to pick up fags on my way, three hours to midnight,

A vegetable seller was getting home, back from his day’s work,

His only helper, his seven year old kid walked beside,

Adolescent eyes to the shop shone, ran the kid towards me,

There was something that he wanted to buy,

“Biscuits, I need them Dad”, he screamed back,

A big smile on his face, forgotten the day’s hard work,

Two local bakery biscuits, he’d won it all it seemed,

Biting into it slowly he walked ahead, elated in leaps,

“It’s already dinner time,” cribbing, his father followed,

The birthday that I’d just attended, seven turned a six year old,

She almost wrecked havoc in that decorated venue,

Her parents had brought her a new Samsung tablet phone,

Unhappy she growled at them,

“You know what I wanted a Sony Xperia Z,

Now I can’t even think of snaps marine.

Clicking those fishes with my hands dipped in that aquarium,

How will I click underwater while I swim with my pals?”

I overheard, switched into a state of shock,

Quickly recollected my naked little analogue years,

Pinched myself back to reality to find her sitting gloomy,

Her mom was away to change the handset,

The party continued, but I ate and left,

Saved myself of the predictable drama in store ahead,

And here I was, igniting both the fag and the engine, stray dogs bark,

The vegetable seller, his kid and cart fade away in the dark,

I sigh in wonder, “how sharp can be that contrast!”

Missed Tagore, his innocent world with light for all,

I drove away with our pledge, the Poet’s dream gargling on my mind…

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Debaroon’2013

 

 

 

 

Image Credits:

http://mpbfhsschool.com/

https://www.facebook.com/childllabour2012

http://lazy-lizard-tales.blogspot.in

Monsoon Afresh !!!

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That gush and gurgle in the drain,

From charcoal skies down pours the rain,

Rolls the city on a day lit by lamps,

Streets washed, then a dirty revamp,

As if straight out of a swamp,

An odor of moist grass and fresh filth looms in the air,

Unchanged is that breeze slow, heavy with craving, luring wet,

Thunder growls, moments of hush whispers,

Fierce gales kissing cool, then windless lulls,

Mirth and anger of the drenched atmosphere,

To breathe back, you aren’t here,

It must be a virgin monsoon for you out there,

For mine’s grown more lush and green,

Now more pungent is the odor, banished serene,

Droplets touch, smooch and dry away,

There’s no more a celebration, or that reason,

Will this be the end to monsoon afresh?

Juicy cloud bursts can taste dry no more,

Soon the heavens shall be sending me a new sufferer,

To walk along the dark roads in the drizzle, out of your prism…

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Debaroon’2013

 

 

 

Image Credits :

http://neerzphotography.blogspot.in/

http://www.hindustantimes.com

Driven Blind

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Release that clutch of yours,

Let that support go,

Can you then stand through that ride on the metro?

You could if you weren’t driven that mad,

Driven tipsy-curvy, halting screechy, driven that bad,

In search of that killer smile, that stranger crave,

Into that wardrobe of shoulders,

Scrolling past those slinging bags, young eyes on a survey,

The laptop man glances smart,

Shares his eyes to the screen and her,

Nodding, she raises over her partner’s shoulder,

Eyed is her hero anonymous, sketched erased,

Sketched erased, her moments of dark fantasy,

You see we’re too busy,

We’ve to ride through,

Blue-eyed through our blues,

To rub some life, win some dough,

To win the best of hers,

Then oil her chocolate, melt down her raised eyebrow,

We‘re safe and satisfied at the hands of the driver,

Ones that we handed over our matchless screwdriver,

We’ll let them run us, ruin us their way,

Steer us blind in our own lust,

Then bottle us, labeled the hottest sauce on display,

Weren’t we the ones in for a change?

The hot blooded, fearless of the lull after the rains,

We’ve never bothered to let that clutch go off and see,

To despise being driven, being at their mercy,

We’ve never bothered trying to run the show…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image from : http://pxylem.blogspot.in/2007/12/delhi-metro-rail-in-and-out.html

Pink Paharganj

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Dusk licks the old Banyan,

Shuts her pores with a kiss,

Ogles at the crows to send them cranky, alarmed,

That deity resting on that vintage stump is served her lamp,

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Lights flick white in that dingy sea of trade,

Reflects in eyes, shining ready for their prey,

Confident of languished hungry visits from the brightest of minds, gone astray,

Some Bags on the go, some await hooked, some packed personal, some for sale,

Stranger eyes are read, flung across are ropes of trust, unsaid,

When a ‘need’ sounds good, it is then understood,

Fools you the stoner’s paraphernalia, peace t-shirts, cargoes on the row,

Action turns into those narrower lanes, shoulder-wide alleys,

Hazy deals, suspicious frowns, then broader smiles and hugs,

Slither sly; make it hush and quiet, in and out in dying daylight,

A fresh wait, a fresh hit, no bait’s needed in this hole of the sphere,

Sucks you to those minstrels of pleasure for a share of their concealed treasure,

Hands in hands with the God of Urge, you tread in here,

The evening calls, triggers her daily moan,

Hails you for more, a Pink Paharganj…

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Debaroon’2013

(From the streets of Paharganj, the hippie back-packers paradise in New Delhi, India, known for its concentration of affordable hotels, lodges, restaurants, dhabas (North Indian road-side eateries) and a wide variety of shops catering to both domestic travellers and foreign tourists, especially backpackers and low-budget travellers. Over the years it has become particularly popular as a haunt for international cuisine and everything that a soul on the lookout for fun and pleasure can end up thinking of. For more on Paharganj, visit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paharganj )

 

 

Images from :http://darkhartetravel.wordpress.comhttp://shafisaxena-sightseer.blogspot.inhttp://web.stagram.com

Up above our World, so High!

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Baby, if you’re not doing much,

Let us try mocking the universal judge,

Come along; let’s grab a chocolate-fudge,

Then, let us put on our wings,

Shoot up from His funny lair,

For a macro view of this hungry hemisphere,

Gush past those lush gardens, that swing,

Past those adorning slums,

Above wandering dreaming wasted wise bums,

Swoop over degreed birdbrains in and out of concrete,

Tiny toddlers crying with lice in their hair on stone sheets,

Come along let us watch pockets drain and fill,

Men at their best, in her arms rich to rest, glowing to drill,

While, women smiling in cars and dim joints, scary on the streets,

Some smarter than their conscience, some dumb to his beats,

Stretch your vision to the end of that horizon,

Gaze unaffected by the strong gales of love, lust, treachery and treason,

A million blocks housing a trillion consumed cunts and cocks,

Colored in a dark auburn shade of sin,

Tarnished with players seasoned to give in,

An endless chocolate bar is what you see,

Outnumbered almost invisible, lost are the ones white and bright,

The ones, strangers to poverty,

Your giggles up above our world, so high,

Tells me you treasure this flight, our try,

From your lips, don’t wipe off that last fudge,

When your wings are gone with your first sigh,

You can lick that off, think of me floating by,

Re-live your moments in that greying sky,

Chuckling to a deeper insight,

From up above our world, so high…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image from : http://www.flash-screen.comhttp://www.123rf.com

Winds of Change

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Howls that black sky,

Waves our moments hot and dry,

Our warmth, our heat is biding a final goodbye,

The winds of change have set in,

Hearts have stoned, it’s no more hurting,

Those clouds have shed their pretence,

Out is their decision to weep off your absence,

You can no more tell my tears from droplets of rain,

Disguised, shielded mechanized, blooms my pain…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image from :http://m.outlookindia.com

With You, For You, Always

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Our Protectors?

Khaki clad Pillars of our Democracy?

Law and Order Monitors?

Look where do they come from?

Mark what have they read till this long?

Notice those outdated degrees that brought them so far?

Grown out of trash texts, and,

Female-shunned backgrounds,

What else can you expect?

A few hoarse animals fit for nothing else,

But to toil in those Easy Uniforms,

They’ll raise their manly hands on Women Protestors,

And, then they’ll swear to save our Women,

Laughable a breed, our Police,

Lodging an FIR isn’t important,

A 5 year-old’s Rape is tooooo Trivial, a matter,

The kid’s parents are Harassed,

Paid 40$ to keep Shut,

To stay away from the Media,

Forget their missing daughter, Flee the city, Instead,

Searching their premises Isn’t Important too,

Public servants? Our Protectors?

What Apathy!!! What Disrespect for our Women !!!

All you Rapists, and Female-Crushers,

Have a Blastttttttttttttttt in my City,

With You, For You Always is Delhi Police…

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Debaroon’2013

(An enraged expression from an Indian, a resident of Delhi.)

Based on the following events:

  • Delhi Police delayed lodging an FIR after the child went missing, failed to do a proper search of the building where the family lived and also allegedly gave Rs 2000 to the girl’s father asking him to stay away from the media. Later, the girl was found locked in a room of the ground floor of the building.
  • An Assistant Commissioner of Police, B S Ahlawat on Friday slapped a young girl at least four times, inside a hospital where she and others were protesting against the brutal rape of a five- year-old girl.
  • He was suspended, immediately. ( As if suspension works! He would be back to duty, sooner or later, the same Man.)
  • Be a little patient if you can, watch the incident LIVE…it’s in HINDI (the Indian national language, but it’s short, so do WATCH IT guys…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRpAPCB__LU

 

 

Images from : http://newsatonce.com, http://www.ndtv.com