Conversation

“You’re kidding right?”

“No”

“That has got to be the most supercilious piece of crap I’ve heard in my life”

“Why is it supercilious?”

“How can you be so certain that you are right? What right have you to be so certain? Who gives you the right?”

“I do”

“See, that! That is just what I mean by supercilious”

“Ok”

“Well, are you going to explain or what?”

“No”

“No what? You’re not going to explain?”

“No”

“Oh fantastic! Mr. Right does not feel the need to explain himself! And I suppose you take responsibility for this as well?”

“Yes, I do”

“Well how does your taking responsibility make any difference? How does it help us?”

“It doesn’t”

“Then what is the point of your taking responsibility”

“There is no point that you will see”

“That I will see? Oh so now I am some subhuman piece of trash who cannot see the point in your great deeds?”

“I have nothing more to say”

Power, Sex & Violence

Bhikshu-Daani, Pyaasa-Paani
Nadiya-Saagar, Jal-Gaagar
- Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan Singning Javed Akhtar's words in "Sangam"

Sex is a positive expression of the the negative force of violence, pent up inside a skull, ready to explode, bursting forth from the end of a phallus, containable only by the female sex.
Force is violence, sex is a force.
The barrel of a gun is the same as a phallus. Power flows from both in equal measure.
The question is, can the reciever withstand the force?
The eternal conjunct of Shiv and Parvati, worshipped in temples, covered up in streets, exalted in the scriptures, hushed in drawing rooms, the beginning of the world and the end of conversation, is the basis of all possible definitions of power and its expression.
What is more powerful? The male component because it can penetrate? Or the female component, because it can recieve that pentration and contain it?
What is more important? The nuclear fuel or the walls of the reactor chamber which harness it and convert the most destructive force known to mankind into usable power?
Is the male and female of it the key? Or is it power and the containment of it the basis of creation?
The Ganga, with its obscene power, with the ability to cleanse the world of sin is a feminine form. Power can have no gender. And Shiv, whose hair can contain that power and release it in controlled amounts, is the most blatantly male of all the deities. So the ability to contain is also not dependent on gender.
When the power of Shiv's meditation becomes too much for the world to bear, Parvati entices him out of his concentration and envelopes his power within herself, to give it useful form.
When Parvati goes on a blood intoxicated rampage, Shiv must prostate himself in front of her to jolt her out of her bloodlust.
The Chinese yin yan and the Hindu Ardhanaarishwar are one and the same, the balance of power, achieved only through the union of the force and that which can contain it. Both are equally important.

Statutory Warning

Kal tak mujhko gaurav tha main devtaon ki hun santaan

Aaj magar hun aadh janwar aaj hun main aadha insaan

Kal tak meri dhadkan dhadkan jeevan raag sunati thi

Aaj hai mere ang ang mein jaise thanda ek shamshan

Kaun pukara kaun pukara, dekho sab kuchh badal gaya

Koi peechhe chhoot gaya hai koi aage nikal gaya.

Aag ke hain ye naag ke jo hain lipte hue mere tan se

Pairon se aur baazu se aur seene se aur gardan se

Dharti ki aankhen bheegi hain aur ambar bhi rota hai

Duniya mein koi sab paata hai aur koi sab khota hai.

Jharne ho nadiyan ke sagar sab hain paani ke dhare

Lekin in aankhon ke aansu jaise pighale angaare

Cheekh rahin hain saari dishayen koi disha khamosh nahin

Dosh nahin hai tera lekin phir bhi tu nirdosh nahin

Doob na jaaye duniya tere aansu ki is baarish mein

Lagta hai tere dil aur aakhen……..

Dono hain is saazish mein.

-Abhay

Not a nice man to know. But a reassuring, comforting existence.

You will pity me for my lacks and detest me for my indifference to them. You shall look at your life and compare it with mine and give thanks in your heart to the Creator, for having spared you the fate he determined for me.

You will reassure yourself, “Hey look! Check that guy out. If he is allowed to live, then I definitely am”.

But while you assure yourself, I shall corrupt you to the point where you find yourself indistinguishable from me. And you shall not be allowed the luxury of going back to the way you were, because you will have no clue how you got here in the first place.

I am the corrosive gas that leaves the tissue intact but destroys methodically the nervous system, allowing no impulses to pass. You will shriek in pain that you will know is inevitable but you will feel nothing. You will break your own back and spill your guts out trying to breathe but no air shall permeate your lungs. Your lungs will not draw air in from your trachea. Your brain will desperately be sending instructions like a telegraph office that has been isolated from the world by a few simple snips of a shears, and no one will be listening. Your body shall be completely unharmed for all this will take place in the space between your brain and your mind. Your emotions will do my work for me.

You will see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing yet you will be conscious of dying, and death will be infinitely painful, for want of pain.

And I shall stand by and look at you with the air of a curiously self assured animal, almost feline in nature. You will beseech me for help with your eyes, but no words will form at your lips. I shall understand you perfectly for I will have pervaded your entire being and penetrated every cell, every corpuscle, every particle of your miserable existence, and yet I shall lift not a finger to help you, for I will be too busy savoring the moment.

Study me but do not venture close. Tender, frail, organic creatures like you must keep their distance.

For I am that plague which will consume you while you revel in your ‘conquest’ over me

If you survive my onslaught, if you are so unlucky as to live through what I inflict upon your mind, body and soul, you will be scarred so badly it will never heal. You will never be whole again. I shall devour a part of you and you shall never know it again. Yes, you will shriek at the injustice of it all, and you will demand retribution, but none shall come. You will live out the remainder of your life as a leper, an outcast. Not because society shall shun you, those fools wont even know the difference, but because you will lack the courage to face society. Yes I can take even that from you.

I can take your self respect, your dignity and remold it to suit my needs, to satisfy my hunger.

I shall feast upon your flaws, thrive in your failure, multiply with your insecurity and while I am at it, I shall create more sustenance for myself.

Your contempt of me, or fear, or loathing, or hatred will only make me stronger, for those are things I relish.

My function is to destroy, and destroy totally. I will leave your body intact and your mind in shreds. I will leave you alive yet completely dead inside.

And I have many forms.

I am present in every time, every place you can think of.

You would not even know that you have ventured into my trap until you realize that the very air you breathe is laden with a multitude of little organisms, each a perfect copy of me. I can replicate and regenerate at will. You will never be able to kill all of me, simply because there is too much of me. A distributed intelligence must always be feared more than a concentrated one, for one can never be sure of total decontamination. You would clean up your life, wash it free of every trace of me, flush me out, and return in peace to enjoy the remainder of your tenure, only to find a pocket of me, which will expand until your field of perception becomes too small to contain it. And then! Then I will engulf you and make you a part of me. You shall be used as a means to corrupt others, and they as a means to corrupt others still. You will be reduced to one link in a long chain of them, with limited function and complete expendability.

You will become an object instead of a being. I can do that to you.

Yes! I am the consummate evil. Yes! I am the one you were warned of. Yes! I am your deepest, darkest, most loathsome, most violent fear come to life.

Prem Kahaani

Yah ek prem kahaani hai. Ambar aur Dharti ka prem. Badal aur Bijli ka prem. Chandan aur Paani ka Prem. Bawarchi aur Bai ka prem.
Dono ek hii ghar mein kaam karte the. Par jo wo kehte hain na….ki agar sanjog na ho, to mel to kya, jhalak bhii namumkin hoti hai.
Phir ek din, sanjog se, wo dono ek hi samay par usi ghar ki chhoti si rasoi me mile.
Bai thoda late thi, aur bawarchi…thoda early.
Sanjog cheez hii aisi hoti hai. Jo do insaanon ko, maryada aur samay kii seemaon ko todte hue, apne samayon se do do ghaante aage peechhe, ek doosre ke aamne saamne laa khada karti hai.
Bijli kadki! Badal garjaya! Amber ne gala saaf kiya, aur Dharti bas khans ke reh gayi.
Ateet kii vaadiyon se jaise ek behad purani dhun Bai ke kaanon mein kuch keh rahi thi.
“Oriya Re Oriya Re mera dil churaake le jaa”
Aur doosri taraf, Bawarchi ka dil gaa raha tha, “tan, tanak dhin tan tanak dhin tan tanakadhin na!”
Dono ke beech gande bartanon kii deewar! Par pyaar kahaan deewaron ko manta. Bol diya dhaawa pyaar ne deewaar par. Jo bartan kaanch ke the unpar mukkadame chalaye gaye! Jab shaasan ko yakeen ho gaya kii vah kaanch ke bartan kitne priya hain deewar ke, to unhein maut ke ghaat utar diya gaya. Wah bhii kitni kroor maut! Do chhote chhote khooni darindon ke haathon tudai hona? Kya yah insaaf hai?
Par pyaar to pyaar hai. Kitna sundar kitna paawan. Maano naalee mein pade chaawal! Maano gatar ka saaf paani!
Aakhir deewar toot gayee. Bas ek kooker baaki tha. Donon ke haath uspar ek saath pade. Bijli phir kadki, baadal phir garjaya. Amber ne phir gala saaf kiya aur Dharti…sharma gayee.
Par suhaag raat kii sharm mein bhi shararat hoti hai. Donon ke haath kooker ko aise sehla rahe the, jaise ek doorse ke jismon kii ibaadat kar rahe hon. Honth bas chhoone hi waale the ki….nazar chhoot gayi.
“Main byahta hoon!” wah boli.
“byaht A? ae to ludhki hai! Amra dost to amake bole chhilo, hindi mein ludhki lok ka EE hota hai. Main byahtEE hun? Hindi ovary difficult language. Shayod nepali easy hoga”
Kucchh samajh nahin aaya to pyaar ne takeover kar liya. Usne apne honth Bai ke honthon par rakh kar, Bai ke har jawab ka sawal pooch liya.
Par ye bedard duniya! Ye Zaalim Zamana! Kahan samajhte hain ye duniya waale prem ko! Har prem chhipkali ka anda nahin hota! Har prem sipahee ka danda nahin hota! Har prem preim nahi hota!
Bartan to dhulnein hi the khaana to pakna hi tha!
Donon juda ho gaye, par pyaar ki nishaani chhod gaye. Donon ko pata tha ki sanjog roz nahin hote. To unhone apne pyaar ko amar karne ka tareeka ijaad kar liya.
“Main roz is kooker mein gandagi pakaoonga!” Bawarchi bola.
“Main apni maang bhar loongi apke haathon ke mail se!” Bai ne kaha!
“Tum kabhi ye kooker mat dhona priye!” Bawarchi ne vaada maanga!
“Vaada raha!” Bai ne aah bharli!
Bijli cheekhi! Baadal chillaya! Ambar ro pada, aur Dharti…..hari ho gayi!
Bawarchi ko kuchh saal baad phaansi ho gayi. Kuchh case tha…teen ladke uske haath ka bana khaana pi kar mar gaye… theek theek yaad nahin.
Bai ke apne hi do nanhein shaitanon ne, ek din use toilet mein flush kar diya.
Par aaj bhi us chhoti si rasoi mein, jab bhi geeli khichdi ka zikr hota hai, to sink ke neeche waali naali se ek awaz aati si aati hai….bawarchi aur bai! Bawarchi aur bai! In donon ki jodi shaamat shaamat aur qayamat!

Blasphemy Divine

Ling mein hi prabhu baste,
Ling roop hain prabhu hi ke,
Lingam asti tapam vastu,
Lingam sarvadhasadhike!


Is prabhu aur ling ke bhed ko samajhne ki chyesta jab jab hum manavon ne ki hai, to kisi na kisi bhayanak peeda ka shikaar hokar,humein un chyeshtaon ko dabana hi pada hai.
Ab dekh hi lijiye, hum bechare naujavan, kahan nikale the nandi parvat ka paryatan karne, aur kahan hum ho gaye prabhu ke prakop ke shikaar.
Vaise yah bhi sach hi hai ki hum nikale to apna paurush pramanit karne ke liye hi the.
Ab paurush ka naam sunte hi, hume, aapko, hum sabhi ko ek vishaalkay ling ka bodh hota hai. Aur ling ka bodh hote hi hame prabhu ki yaad aati hai. To paurush aur prabhu ka kahin na kahin to naata hoga. Ya yah bhi ho sakta hai ki madira ke mastishk par haavi ho jaane ke kaaran, jo mere hriday mein hai, main usi ko prabhu ka roop de raha hun.
Par kahane waale yah bhi kahate hain ki prabhu kaa vaas hriday mein bhi hota hai. To baat dono suraton mein hame phir usi chaurahe par laa kar khada kar deti hai, jahan hum teen yuvak, usha ke halke prakash mein, agnidoot par sawar, khade the, nandi parvat ke dwar par.
Hum to keval yah siddha karne aaye the ki agar hum prabhu se milna chaahen to khud prabhu bhi hame nahin rok sakte.
Par na! prabhu ko kahaan hum manavon ki siddhion se lena dena?
Unhe to bas apna paurush pramanit karna hota hai. Aur kar diya unhone. Kah diya hum sacche bhakton ko, ki beta aisa hai, agar humse hamari ichhha ke bina milne aayoge, to gaand mein goo laga paaoge, aur ghar waise hi jaaoge.
Ab humein agar pataa hota ki prabhu bhi gaand jaise shabdon ka pryog karte hain, to hum kabhi bhi unse aagya liye bagair unse kya, kisi se milne nahin jaate.
I mean, just imagine a dude so powerful that he can create worlds in six days, and mean enough to use words like ‘ass’. I wouldn’t wanna be on that guy’s wrong side.
Par pabhu kahan chetavani dete hain. Wo to seedhe bas….
Lag gaya goo hamari bhi gaand mein. Maan gaye prabhu. Kabhi to aise chhod doge jaise tumhein hamare astitva se apatti hai, aur kahbi itne sameep aakar dekhoge ki apne aap se sharm aaj aye humein.
Rooh ke jhharokon ko aise faash na karein, ai rehmat farosh.
Mere maula! Kya sitam dhaaya tha maine kisii par ki teri rehmat na hui mujhpar. Kya meri bandagi mein kasar rah gayi, ya dil aashna na raha mujhse tera?
Gar jhhoot hai ye to bhej do dhobi farishte mujhe, laga hai goo meri gaand par, aur jaana hai mujhe teri rehmat ka paigham apne yaar ko sunane.

And then spake the Lord! No my child he said. Thou shall not have the excrement cleaned from thy ass. For thy ass is like thy soul, though perhaps peddled less. For thy holdest thy ass dearer than thy soul. That thou shouldst live, I gave my life. And thy cannot give thy ass?
And so shall thy ass, thy very soul, bear the marks and stench of my excrement upon it, for all eternity thou shalt inhale it and be reminded, that Yes! There is a God!
And He Shat Upon Me

Worshippers of the Anti-Postpaid God

Mutch: Hello sir, can I interest you in a postpaid connection.
Me: No.
Mutch: It’s a very good offer sir…..
Me (remorsefully): Ma’am, I am very sorry, but I don’t think I can take a postpaid connection.
Mutch: Can I ask why sir?
Me: Actually….it offends my religious principles.
Mutch: Huh?
Me: Yes ma’am. I happen to be a member of the Temple Of The Anti-Postpaid God….
(at this point she hung up. However if the conversation had continued this is the form it would have taken)
Mutch: Sir….
Me: We are a minority community and what you are trying to do to us is despicable! Not to mention that forced conversion is also illegal!
Mutch: Sir, I think you’re taking this a little out of proportion… I only meant to help you…
Me: Ma’am, that’s how it always starts! First you preachers disseminate yourself all around the minority. Then you close in slowly for the kill! You offer us better facilities, more freedom and then we end up as your slaves! With no thought of our own! Not to mention the huge phone bills.
Mutch: Actually the phone bills go down sir….
Me: Ha! See! Like I said! You are trying to fool me into following your religion! When will you people understand that pre-paid and post paid are just children of the same god! Mutch! Sabka malik ek madam! Sabka malik ek!
Mutch: Sir…This is getting out of hand…
Me: Hand! Hand! You gonna try sell me a hands free too now? My god! As if conversion wasn’t enough! Now I have to follow your barbaric rituals as well?
Mutch: Listen….
Me: Oh so now you’re getting angry at me! Is that it? Oppressor! Let My People GO!!!!
Mutch: Listen boss! You need a shrink!
Me: Now you question my sanity! Just because I am unashamed to declare my faith I become a heretic??? Avast! I refuse to be subjected to your tyranny!
Mutch: You psychotic bas****!
Me: Why star it out? Say it! Go on abuse me! That’s all you can do! When coercion doesn’t work resort to intimidation! That’s how terrorism spreads! Terrorists!
Mutch: I’ll sell you a postpaid if it’s the last thing I do! I will return with the forces of the Evil Empire!
Me: I’ll be waiting! May the best tariff plan win!
Mutch: You will kneel to us!
Me: In your dreams! FREEEDDOOOOOM!!!!

Who am I???

I am Invictus, the unconquerable, the indomitable....in other words, I am a supercilious bastard. I have survived so far by virtue of my indomitable gall. Givn that I intend to stay unconquered and supercilious , I cannot state my name. Hence I write under the pen name: Invictus

Dedication...

This blog is dedicatd to Asterix...the original indomitable gall...oops, make that Gaul. The dedication obviously extends to Obelix, Dogmatix, Vitalstatistix, Getafix, Fullyautomatix, Unhygienix, Justforkix....Petitsuix and yes...even Cacofonix!
For standing fearless, in the face of the Roman empire without assuming the air of martyrdom