Death is strange...

Death is strange, did you know?
Like the blood stains on the road
that create illusions whenever u look at them

Death puzzles me for sure,
It has no religion like my ink
My ink weaves stories for the world
And death makes my world, a story

What does hope mean to it
And why is it always,
lead by countless false prayers

21 years of shelter
21 years of dreams
21 years of determination
21 years of survival

No eyes
No ears
No Jaws
No Tongue

Tell all sympathy to find me a mirror
We can only sit and watch, as she left us forever

My tryst with pink

Tonight I can write the saddest lines,

Write for Example that my phone is pink

But Oh! My heart is white

My friends are fair,

But Oh! Their souls are dark

Messaging, Calling and cursing me

For buying a phone in a colour

That reminds them of a dry onion soaked in vinegar

Did I, O maker ask thee to get me a pink phone?

Did I ever pray to spoil the keypad of 6020 which was a good phone?

Why did you then, make 6020 an outdated stuff

Or leave me a duplicate keypad whose keys were tough

Didn’t you feel that I won’t be able

To resist the tempt and the pressure,

When devils dance around me with

Their N71, 7610 and Moto v3i in pleasure

I thank thee for making the father of mine,

Who paid for the new phone on time.

But Alas! The euphoria died soon

When you made my tooth fairy a goon,

Sent me to a Nokia priority dealer looking like a chink,

Who had my Nokia 3500 classic only in pink.

Mercy, Mercy, O people of mine,

We all are but puppets

In hands of destiny and time

Lets all thank my stars and powers unseen

That I took pink instead of fluorescent green.

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Too Much Chaos to Sustain

Too much chaos to sustain
Too much silence to breed
Can’t hear the voices clearly
Shapes are too random to see
Ever felt that something was making you insane???
Ha ha ha, yes, too much chaos to sustain

I have so many hands that want me to hold
But it is not even December, yet something
Somewhere takes me cold
Verses are not meant to rhyme
Amongst themselves too often
They can’t make sense now because
There is too much chaos to sustain

It is 12 in the night and there is an urge
To make my mind canvass itself when
Paper and pen merge

There is something in me that is changing
There is something about my destiny that is fast approaching
Acceptance makes the span easy to live
Accepting that there is too much chaos to sustain

Ah, I am breathing again
Alone, but not aloof.

The unreasonable reason

Sometimes I think I hate reason after all

For reason pokes fun at faith
For reason sneers at imagination
For reason questions integrity
For reason demeans love

Sometimes I shun reasonable brethens after all

For reason patronizes utilitarians
For reason advocates opportunists
For reason inspects loyality
For reason questions patriotism

Sometimes I want to be unreasonable after all


(Just like that) 

Monday morning blues

Its fifteen to nine,

I jump into my Car

Press the accelerator

Hope I’ll reach on time.

The roads are mad as usual

I suddenly wish to be a sleek reptile

To Crawl through bright burning Machines

That give out smoke and smell foul.

Its now 12 to nine.

My foot is no more with the accelerator.

All three of us are still passive and cold

The RJ sounds as monotonous as the traffic time.

Right Across da road, I envy the others for whom

The Traffic signal greens and so do I with envy.

A beggar girl watches em all flaccidly

Something has to be eaten soon.

Alas!You dreamer of Day,

Too soon than you imagined

The pricey SUV has subdued you

Under its tyres in black and gray

This may be was your Destiny Foretold,

Your Parents should be…

(But Do they even exist???)

And where is the SUV In paint Gold???

I think Some Crowd has Gathered around her

She may survive if some good samaritan comes across

That is if she is alive by da time.

I can even see a huge pool of blood over there.

Anyway the signal has mercifully gone green

I would have Died in this summer morning heat

Why to think bout what has not happened???

I jus avoid such incidents to be seen.


Jayasri

Dreaming solitude

Let me and my dreams alone,

Alone by the grugling cascade,

Where water shall reflect

Me to my silent dreams


Oft in a starry night,

I woke up to myself and ask,

To where do I do and what do I seek

If to achieve was to lose,

then what did I gain?


Summer went,winter came

Time flew like storms devast houses.

Still pondering over achievements,

I hoped to decide…

To lose and gain or to gain and lose


I am to no one and no one is to me

Then why do I stand

On barren and lonely crossroads

Without any light


To follw rules and bound to ties

Is not what I seek

My destiny lies in solitude

Waiting to mate with my dreams meek.

I am to my Dreams what solitude

Is to my imagination bleak.


- Jayasri

Faaltooest verses

Accidental Flashes


The songs have lost all meanings,
They mean nothing but
vain pomp and unmusical beats

On a larger scale
They are defined as
My life without you

Break my heart since
it can't stop loving you
so much that it doesn't realize

There may be some time
In the lonely, winter, distant air
I may just vainly,desperately
try to hate you, loathe you
jus may try...

Meteorite my earth
Make it hard
Break it without mercy
Oh!Come on...Please..

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O Graceful Almighty! Give me strength
to reach out to my soul
Let me carry it with me
whenever I step out
I don't want to become like them
They are good but not me

My verses are like my mind
Wandering, undecisive and weary
Help me gain a light
Let me have faith in you

Where do I seek inspiration from
Its all celebrated
What I seek is very ordinary
........I think I give up......

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I think, therefore I am
I am witty thats what I think
But what am I?

"Witty" cries my mind aloud
A child's eyes seem more proud
All long the mellow solitude
I think what I write is not worth a penny

A train going off the track
I have to say so much
Time seems short so does the paper
I am grasping for breath
Help...Hold...Fire, my soul burns

What is this existance
Our Intellect is but a bird of gold
That isn't allowed to nurture
in this sly world real
And so,Wit is no more pivot than sense.
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The world has kissed my soul with its pain,
asking for its return in verses.
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It was always lying there
in the womb of my soul
Like a prisoner behind the bars
Like being there without
knowing its own identity.

When people asked about it
I used to stare or stammer
Like an eight year old
Upon a shooting star

Now I know
I have a goal in life
To prove, To win, to survive
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