Wish

Saw her standing there
looking at a notice board
piqued me down to hell
cause why does one look
at a notice board
when you don't wanna read
and its way well past twelve

So i went up to her
and asked her the name
hey we were all new
and making friends
she smiled back
and we walked on home
hit it off, sure as hell

And she was fun
no hangups in life
Did every thing i could name
late nights and early morns
became a parcel of the tale
chat and walk and philoso talk
and the odd funny gourmet meal

Good times rolled by
and I liked her more
I guess she liked me as well
But reader be warned
no romantic talk
we all professionals here

Slowly but surely
I noticed nothing girlie
About our lady here
And I heaved many
a sigh of relief
as there was no romance
hung in the air

Then I wished Some
and I wished some more
But now I think
Its what had me made
in the end I prayed real hard
God , let her not be a dame

And as I closed my eyes
There was a bright light
seconds rolled back
the seconds turned to years
and I stood in the hallway
All the years ago
with no memory I fear

And as I walked on home
A guy was giving
the notice board a stare
No reading , I kept walking
and why shouldn't I
I thought to my self
What a Queer.

Love - I

   Will restrict this discussion to the interaction between adult humans for the sake of linearity. The remaining variations will be factored in in the coming write-ups.

   Its complicated by its simplicity. Its just that we see it in its many variations, and are often led on by its not difficult to mistake diminutive cousins, lust, infatuation, and my favourite, misunderstanding. If you're getting the drift here, all these are our reactions to external stimuli.

   Lust is driven by one or more physical sense and when that is superimposed over the primal drive to mate, leads to a very strong mix, heavily supported by chemical impetus, easily mistaken for love due to the similar initial. But its akin to mistaking a room cooler for an industrial size air conditioner. The first blow of air may seem like heaven from either to a sweating person, but with the cooler, a half hour later you're only slightly better, and your room is not even that, having become a humid mess. Infatuation is lust's lame, impotent cousin.

   Misunderstanding is worth elaboration however. While lust stems primarily from physical appearance of the subject aided sometimes by body language, misunderstanding almost always stems from verbal and non verbal cues, leads to a misplaced or premature notion of initiation or reciprocity from the subject, thus acting as a catalyst for one's own emotional reactions and advances, thereby leading to an untimely demise of the entire 'relationshipling', if I may call it that.
Like the earlier three, love in its unadulterated form is a reaction, but unlike them, not to any single sense but a combination of them all. Throw in a sixth if I dare. And when that happens the value of the result is greater than the sum or even product of the individual components. No credit due to the gestalt school of thought, since I learnt the word after I penned the concept. All that is required for an explosion is reciprocation.
   
The beginnings physically are similar to the earlier phenomenon - the chemical reactions resulting from the brain celebrating having identified a suitable mate to propogate the species. The dilation of the pupils, the activation of the sweat glands, the elevated heart beat, the sinking feeling in the stomach , the works. If you're lucky and the relationship progresses beyond this point, you need to be prepared for the tough part.. Come the 2 year mark, the chemicals which autopilot the interaction so far have normally achieved their objective, and are willing to be spilled for the next viable mating candidate. You are left with manual steering, stick gear shift, and a shattered windshield, so even a nominal speed means the wind and sand blind you. Also the brakes seem to be rigged with explosive - every time you try to slow down, BOOM! Some functionality or progress is lost.

   The obvious question that comes to mind is, why slow down? Well, its because the basic purpose of the engagement has been served, and the question in everyone's head is 'now what?' That's where the difference between love and its cousins comes in. Love doesn't end at mating. It involves a much more complex intertwining of lives and fates. Its about support in times of need, some one to brag to when you succeed, shoulder to cry on when you fail, someone to share vacations with, someone to bring your kids up with, someone to reinstate your faith in yourself when the world thinks you're a douche, in short someone to share life with. Sounds good. Hunky Dory even. What's the problem then? Why the heart burn and the conflict and the hesitation to commit even when you know that the person in front of you is fit to share your life with?


   As mentioned, love is a mutually beneficial unwritten social contract we seek to enter with a person we judge suitable. Admission of love by extension is a declaration of handing power over yourself to another person. And that is the little bone that can choke the bravest, most dreamy of people. Granting someone non trivial control of your life is the trade off for all goodies listed above.

So its just that really, the good ol' pro and con. You willing to compromise a serious amount of freedom for a promised friend and companion, love is for you. Else steer clear... The price is clearly printed on the ticket- you want an exclusive deal, you'll have to give an exclusive deal... You'll be surprised how many go for the first option. I always am. Coming up next, other forms of love...

Chance

Our dear man here
Wipes his tears and cries
Choking on sadness
Boiling with rage
Cradling the lifeless
Body of his only child
He cannot believe how
He was shortchanged by fate.

Eyes to the heavens
He begged for a chance
A chance to do it different,
One chance to make it right.
Do what he couldn't
Get straight the very first time
Any price he was willing to pay
Any commandment he would disobey

Hell would have a new meaning
Torture would find another name
As a simpleton of an angel,
Decided to play this little game
Careful what you wish they say,
But right or wrong be damned
The kid would live to see another day
Our dear man rejoiced.

He woke up once, he woke up twice
very same day, the very same vice
Brand new resolve, brand new device
Ran forth to confront the demons
Sure it would work out this time
But overcome he couldn't
And the circumstances ensured
his poor child was taken everytime

this morning when he woke up
And put a gun to his head
The angel appeared in panic
And said "my child, what the hell?"
I broke all laws and pulled a favour
To help you make it right
But you failed on time and time again
And now this bullet is your respite?

Kind angel, you did what you could
I'm indeed indebted for life.
But watching my child die over and over
Has killed me from inside
Our dear man said with a wry smile
As he put an end to the morbid jest
You gave me many a chance to make it all right,
But you forgot to make me forget.

Education

It hit me recently. I'm 28 and I have  something like 5 years of work experience. Considering I remember pretty much as many major things and events from the third year of my life, as I do from the year before last, and I could walk way before the first set of memories, I could have made myself useful long back. So what was I doing for 20 years or more than two thirds of my life ?

Getting educated, that's what. Initially coming to par with the cumulative learning of mankind since the stone age, later being brought uptodate with the cumulative learning of humanity in a specific field 'of my choice'.

I don't know about you, but I feel cheated. The human body physically peaks at like 21. What was I doing ? Had just finished my first round of education. Life had pretty much passed me by while I was being 'educated' in my protected little shell. And the regret is in spite of the feeling that I got pretty much everything I could, intellectually, out of the system. I know plenty who aren't as lucky.

To bring some balance to the paradigm, let me clarify, I really value the world view and understanding I have as a result of education.

Somehow I think the education system has been designed with a hundred year life span in mind. Most of us lead a useful life probably till sixty five. There are always exceptions, but that is a different discussion.

Working with the same percentage, the education needs to be crunched into 12 years, instead of 18. Masters of course may take a year and a half, when appropriate. The rubber needs to meet the road a lot earlier in life.
Innocence is overrated. We need to make the learning curve steeper. And trim the fat from the syllabus. Every thing superfluous needs to be on a 'want to know' basis, to be learnt on your own time, if that's what you'd rather be doing.

I appreciate the American model in this respect. There is a concept of a summer job, where one does a little work, makes a little money. Any one with an entrepreneurial mind set is likely to find their inspiration early in life when the price of failure is practically nil. Young people get a lot more time and perspective to allow them to decide what their calling in life is. That is why American universities produce fewer drones by percentage (excluding the indian population of choose) than Indian universities.We typically keep running down the path of least resistance, the lucky ones till they die, the unlucky ones, till they hit a wall.

Incidentally indians spend their summers playing cricket, reading or doing their summer homework, depending on what combination of parental and educational setup they're in.

And while we're at it making lives more productive, we should pull in the driving age limit as well. There is a test for the license, not like marriage where coming to a certain age automatically makes you eligible to get married.  So if a 10 year old boy can drive better than a 40 year woman, he should be allowed to. They do it anyway. I think the only logic behind the 18 year rule is that it eliminates the section from the rule book, about what to do when a kid breaks a traffic rule.

What say ?

Rage against

Rage against the machine,
Is what I think I feel.
Want to take it apart,
Gear from greasy gear.
Smash in the face,
Kick in the balls,
Of those who feel
Fit to judge me.

Can't remember a free existence,
Believe I am dependent.
On this setup which is
Anything but symbiotic.
Renounced self respect,
Sacrificed dignity,
Traded in pride,
To partake of this derisory lie.

Have been embedded,
so deep into the entrails,
Every breath laced
With poison fumes.
All that is left now,
Are canned dreams,
A pale, mocking shadow,
Of what might have been.

What have I become ?

Rage against the machine,
Is what I think I feel.
Want to take it apart,
Gear from greasy gear.
Take a step back,
Take a deep breath,
Want to start the slaughter,
But now it all makes sense.

The machine sucks hard,
But wasn't I the one,
Who tried and broke in?
I now know the rage,
Is rage against myself.
Because everyone can hear,
In spite of the noise.
And like it or not,
Every one has a choice.

Destiny II

Let me tell you a story about destiny. 
It started off really weird. Just your regular day. Early rise. Long run to clear the damn head. Silly breakfast before eat fast eat. Last meal for 24  hours. Was headed out to catch the drop to work when it happened. Saw a door to my right I'd never seen before. Weird. The cab driver was honking like his pension depended on it. But I had to take a minute to figure out this door. Never saw it, really?

Well curiosity killed the cat. But given my life, I take my chances. Too dark to see anything, so I walked in. Just the one step. Because then I fell. For just about as long as I'd lived. Or so it felt. Landed in a glass capsule. With a  15 person audience. In weird clothes. Minimal but uber stylish. Like we had got over our stupid hangups, and clothes we're just covering as much as they should.

And they got to business immediately. I was pulled out and stood up. And told it was all a big mistake. The portal had appeared due to a technical glitch. I must head back.

Will do, I say, but at least tell me what the hell is happening. Alrightey then. They start.

It is the same world, same place. But it is post apocalyptic. We've learnt to value our resources and human life. So as a prophet had advised, everyone was subject to a coming of age ritual, if we may call it so.

At the opportune moment, you would be shown your future, your destiny, to enable you to work with the destiny in mind. What better way  to motivate an action than a guaranteed outcome. You would power past the little glitches, and get up everytime you fell. Everyone would hence be able to achieve greatness and the world would achieve greatness as a result of the cumulative greatness.

There was a catch as always. The futures were previewed. The ones which were judged to be unfavorable, were rooted out of the time line. The owners of the unsightly future were banished to a parallel setup, on a different planet. Wiped from every memory, and their own memory replaced with a convenient backstory. It was self sustaining, and kept out the under achievers.

It became evident to me which lot I'd been in.

Then I was apologized to. Saying it was a rather unfortunate phase in the history of the world. But what was done was done and had to be left that way. So I must head back.

It was all a dream as far as I was concerned, so, that I had been discarded by society at large didn't bother me too much. But why a seemingly fabulous plan didn't really pan out as expected was bothering me.

It turns out that the promise of a bright future makes as many people complacent as it makes hard working. And even in the lot who are hard working, there is a predetermined cap on what they can achieve, since the targets are already set. No reaching for the stars. All in all, the world of out castes was doing as well if not better. And as the inevitable happened and the secrecy around the promised future deal wore off, a huge public uproar ousted the men in charge, and things went back to normal...

So much for that eh ?

Well I was promptly shipped back, memory intact and found myself mid step walking towards the cab. I stumbled, but caught my step again, and took my regular place in the cab.

Hey, just because I'm free to reach for the stars, doesn't mean I have to.

2.. Rebirth

As I plummet through the never,

A feeling dawns upon me,

That I've been plummeting,

Forever towards the sea.

Yet the dark waters below

Are as far as they could ever be.

And so is the Cliff of Baph,

I'd been on a second ago.

A second did I say?

Well I wouldn't really know.

Does it really matter when,

You only have a few more to go.

I begin to wonder, is this the afterlife?

Or have my wings come alive,

As I had hoped they wouldn't do.

But they hang limp,

Hanging down from my back,

Weighing me down into the depths,

Taking me where I wish to go.

Its feels like its forever,

But the wind is strong in my hair,

I am still falling.

It can't go on for ever like this.

I break into a smile as I see,

The wall of rock below,

It’s far a better death,

Than begging for air,

And finding nowhere to go.

Its feels like its forever,

But now spray is in my face,

And I am still falling,

But the end must be near.

Not wishing for mother,

That’s only for the birds.

I crash through the rock,

Into the bosom of the earth.

My descent is now painful,

As igneous edges rip through flesh.

But none of it can surpass the,

Conflict in my head!!!!

What in the name of the devil,

Is happening to me?

After what seems like days,

My descent finally ends.

In the fiery depths of earth

Where there is no night or day.

Mother didn't come in time,

But in my father's arms I lay.

As he set me down, onto the lava,

He said "Fear not my child,

For you live once again.”

And as I look deep,

Into those crimson eyes,

Hurtling back come memories,

Of lives I’d trodden by.

Of all kingdoms taken,

Of the blood I'd spilled,

Of all the years in limbo,

And the last time I’d been killed.

Slain by deceit in battle,

For the kingdom of the sun,

Treachery for victory,

The wretched, vicious scum.

As the anger rushes back in,

Riding on the memory of deceit.

I feel myself take control,

Of the body that lay around me.

The bundle of muscle, and blood,

So useless without me.

The deadliest of weapons,

When I’m master.

The thought invigorating,

Making me go faster.

The brain starts buzzing,

The heart starts beating,

Pumping the life blood.

And as it starts to flood

Every nerve and vein.

My senses come alive,

I can see and feel again.

The strong black wings flap back to life,

And I cease to feel all pain.

I rise to my feet easily,

Aided by my wings.

Feel the strength in my arms,

Blood gushing through my veins.

I throw my head back,

Let out a mighty roar.

Be warned filthy angels,

I live again, I have returned.

1..That's only for the birds

Early Dawn I sit up,

With a start, breathing hard

And sweat upon my brow.

Dreadful nightmare,

But it is over now.

What it was,

I'll never quite know.

Even the birds are still sleeping,

And the wind is still cool.

I just wish this would stop

Being my waking ritual.

Jump out of bed.

Turn around to set the pillows.

And that's when I see it,

Blood. It is all over.

Where did it come from??

My clothes look clean.

Catch a glimpse in the mirror,

And I hear myself scream.

My back is soaked,

Not with sweat, but with blood.

Nothing new, but still a shock.

I wake every day,

Hoping yesterday was only a nightmare

I just wish this would stop

Being my morning ritual.

Take control again,

Wash my sheets clean.

Settle down with my iron file,

And see through the daily scene.

Clear the bathroom floor

Of the blood and dense feathers.

Oh God the pain........

But I can't have any one see this.

What would become of mother?

Out to the street I drag myself.

For a drag of the balmy air.

Out into the thin crowds I head,

Unwelcoming though they are.

"Monster" they call me,

But what they don't know is

How bloody right they all are.

My back hurts something wicked today.

Must be the lash from yesterday.

Don't know don't care,

I just pray it stops.

Stop, it won’t, that much I know.

Don't know why, but I'm so sure.

A few hours later it happens,

My shoulder blades explode.

Screams, not mine, are all I hear

Before pass out from the pain.

I wake up sprawled upon

The empty street,

No one in sight for a mile.

Then I see them crowded

Around the corners, still in shock

At all the blood and gore.

"What happened" I ask

My self I think,

That's when I feel them,

Limp behind me, caressing my back,

Crimson stained raven wings.

I run down the street,

But it is a little while,

Before I get far enough,

For the screams of 'Monster'

To fade into oblivion.

In an abandoned cottage,

I weep myself to sleep.

Why me? Oh God Why me?

I am but fifteen...

Walk up a cliff and,

Look around, at the nests,

Birds and their summer song.

A little one takes off,

And falters , but its ok,

Mother dear is not far away.

It is guided back to safety,

To the nest and back to life.

I look down upon the ocean.

Black waves turn to foam,

Skeletal fingers beckoning me,

Welcoming me into its depths.

The wind is cool on my face,

And I know my time has come.

The pain of mind and body will

Kill me soon enough.

So there and then I make my choice,

To end it on my terms

Once my mind is made up,

I submit readily to fate,

Spread my wings and take the plunge

The world passes by in a daze.

As I plummet through the darkness,

For my wings can't take my weight,

I wonder if mother will come.

“No” I tell my self.

"That's only for the birds."

Cherophobia

It works differently for everyone. For some it is the fear of the dark, for some the fear of light. For some it is ghosts, demons or generally the unknown. Some of us are afraid of the water, heights, women, foreigners, a variety of animals, obscure objects, a lot of foods, hell, even the air. You name it, and there is someone it scares shitless. There is no real logic or pattern to it. I may be terrified of sourness or mirrors or spiders or opinions, and there's nothing I can do to explain the 'why' to you. Especially because even for the lucky(?) few whose phobia stems from a real event in this lifetime, the brain invariably erases the traumatic memory to help maintain sanity (so at least the stimulus is external and avoidable, otherwise half the population would generally be restive, on edge and jumpy if not cowering under the table and screaming hysterically). Since there is normally no logic or pattern, I cannot help you understand what makes something throw all the wrong switches in my head and I cannot hope to understand why something seemingly benign to me does the same to you.

But the complete lack of a pattern is a pattern, though not in the obvious sense. To say there is no pattern, would mean there is no way to tell if a phenomenon is a manifestation of or a point on the pattern. Thus something that lies outside the pattern helps define the pattern. This distinction is provided in the definition of phobia itself. One word -irrational. So anything that is a rational fear is not a phobia. Which brings us to the definition of rational - based on or in accordance with reason or logic.

How do we define logical in the context of human behavior? Complicated, since everyone is unique and if left to their devices, everyone would have their own reaction to every situation, and in case of a seemingly similar reaction, the reason behind the reaction may not be. So we have to delve deeper, to the very driver of every single human action, inaction or reaction. I believe it is the pursuit of happiness.

Let me justify. It explains all our actions, inactions and reactions. I shall not go too deep into the definition of happiness, since that is another discussion in itself.  The general understanding of happiness we have, will suffice for now. For normal people, or in normal parts of peoples' lives, day to day actions at large e.g. going to work, school, doing household chores etc are all attempts at happiness in the future, with varying turnaround times. Work brings money, which brings material essentials and luxuries within reach (turnaround time generally 1 month). School allows us to work (Tat 12 to 20 year). Chores allow us to administer the stuff money buys (Tat 1 to 6 hours). These also contribute to other forms or stimuli for happiness such as a sense of purpose, being better than your neighbor or siblings, approval, guilt avoidance, a feeling of security etc.

The more specific actions work towards similar goals, though possibly, in less obvious ways. Dodging death is done to avoid the associated pain and to be around to be happy. Heck, even sex, a critical function, to propagate the species had to be designed to be pleasurable, else we ran the risk of extinction. I think the point has been made, and we can get back to the core of the discussion. The driving force behind every human action tends to be the pursuit of happiness. So logical and hence rational action in human terms is anything that is meant to lead to happiness.

Coming back to the original point, the pattern. The rational fear. Logically the only rational fear is that of being unhappy. But fear of unhappiness can only be, when we're happy. So happiness is the root cause of our greatest fear. Never happy, never afraid of being unhappy. It is bulletproof. This must lead to a fear of happiness or cherophobia (if I may), since something that causes you to fear something else, cannot be desirable (hence cherophobia is not really a phobia, since it is not irrational, but a universal human fear, but that is not the point of the discussion).

But being unhappy all the time is not really an option. It would drive the vast majority mad. From where I see it, the only way out is complete indifference. Or permanent happiness.

Familiar? Karmanye vadhikarastye... (read up if you care) and on the other hand the promise of eternal happiness. Religion strikes again. Right at our deepest fear.

Destiny

We are all unique. Debatable but plausible, if you take into account all the million things that we say define human beings. These include the physical features and general body composition, the mind and its many facets etc. No point listing out factors, because I'll never be able to list them all out, and even if I do, it is the innumerable possibilities created by all the permutations and combinations of these features that we're counting, so...

Back to the point. So yes, at a certain level of granularity we are all unique. But at a more macro level the similarities outweigh the differences. We all have similar dimensions, which are not very diverse if you consider the extent of variation that occurs in the animal kingdom. We all respond in a similar way to instruction, wouldn't be possible to have a universal schooling system if that were not the case. We all have hopes and aspirations. We all fall ill, bleed when cut and eventually die.

So we aren't that different either. Just depends how you look at it.

What intrigues me is, how did we go and allow ourselves the illusion that we're all special, that we're all so significant that the universe was somehow built for and revolves around us, that our lives mean something to anyone but us, and that we have a purpose in life?

I understand the intrinsic human need to feel valued and important, but is it not a slight stretch to presume that there is a purpose to each one of our lives? That we need to watch what we do because in the end there is someone or something watching and tracking our every move, just to hand us a score card at the end? And that our score cards will somehow be tallied, and reward or punishment handed to us as appropriate. Really?

That brings us to the big D. Destiny. Let us take a minute to recall how destiny works.
Destiny pl. des·ti·nies 1. The inevitable or necessary fate to which a particular person or thing is destined.2. A predetermined course of events considered as something beyond human power or control 3. The power or agency thought to predetermine events.

I'll quote a personal example, to elaborate. I was destined to be in the job I'm in currently (or it is somewhere in the path that leads me to a more significant milestone in my destiny) and hence life moved in a way to guide me there. I made an ill informed choice regarding my engineering college, though I had better options. Following that I went floating through engineering, not applying myself or trying to make the best of it. Wound up in the subsequent job as a result, which, along with other factors pushed me hard towards an MBA. Took the exams once floating through them doing sufficiently well as always, but being ill informed took its toll once again and I didn't apply to institutes that I could have, and wound up with squat. So I took the exam once again. Scored lesser than the first time, and applied everywhere I could. MDI and NITIE included. Now I could have got into either institute a year earlier, but this year only the latter was within reach. Another major thing that happened in the meanwhile was that I partially missed the recession, which would go on to mean that I wouldn't have absolute squat once I got out of B School. Once again I floated through the 2 years, not bothering with week end projects and certifications and paper publishing like the rest of the lot, which left me with exactly half a chance in the placement. And here we are, at my current job. Bottom line, all major events, decisions and actions in my life over the past 10 years or so have lead to me being where I am today. My attributing it to destiny basically amounts to reverse engineering and logically fitting past events to lead up to an observed outcome.

My shoes have a destiny for example. I bought them to run the Mumbai marathon 2 years ago. Trained in those shoes but didn't manage to register. This year I began training for the Jaipur marathon. I promised myself a new pair of running shoes once I completed a certain number of training runs. Never did the training runs so now the old shoes get to see a race after all. Which they wouldn't have, had I trained harder.

In other words we would like to believe every atom in existence has a purpose, a destiny, but it is far more likely that destiny is a concept we have created to keep us motivated when we know we didn't really bother to put in our best, and to keep self doubt from consuming us when our best is not good enough (which statistically is almost every time), and is no more real than Santa.

This is a demonstration of how life works, in my opinion: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GANHXlMpVMc&feature=related . Life unravels directed by our reactions to random actions, and the reactions of the universe to our actions. But as we know, the entropy of the universe is only increasing. So yes we are the mercy of an ever more chaotic universe, by and large.But there is good news. As a very wise man once said, “Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair!”

There is of course a scenario in which destiny becomes a reality, which is if the end outcome is predicted in advance, foretold, if I may. But you show me an astrologer with greater than one percent accuracy and I'll show you the photos from my last visit to hell.

Samaan

Bleeding from one wound too many,
I lay dying in a sewer.
Struck down by the
Right hand of god .
Michaelangelo himself,
Had come for me.
With his troops from heaven,
And a scimitar of fire.

The desolate landscape,
A reflection of my thoughts.
I saw no help coming forth.
Despair clawed and tore,
Its way deep into my heart,
And anger filled my being,
Unarmed and unprotected,
I had roamed ,
What had i been drinking ??

The traitor who'd given me away
Would pay ,not just with life.
But i must first focus,
On the task at hand,
How to rein in mine .
It was in my darkest hour,
That i finally sensed,
a train of possibilities,
that didnt end in my demise.

Samaan walked not far from here.
To his home after the evening prayer.
He would help me, the man of god.
I smiled wide as his tread neared.
My cry for help froze his veins,
And his heart stopped,
As the last echos faded.
Unsure of himself , he looked,
Over the edge of the sewer.

A flash of familiarity,
As our eyes met,but it couldn't be
As he'd never seen me in flesh.
Though his books told of nothing,
And no one but me.
The features in contrast,
Beautiful yet evil.
He didn't know why,
His God bade him to flee.
But in his heart he knew,
That His words are for the weak

Help me he did,
He had to , the noble man of God.
Carried me home on his back,
Like the beast of burden he was.
Cleaned my wounds with wine,
And the linen from his robe.
Filled them with herbs,
Tended to me ,till i healed,
And was ready to go .

For i reminded him,
The streams of gold and silver, 
He commanded for his services,
Would dry up ,but for my life.
The finest fruit from their orchards,
And the respect in their hearts,
with my death would shrivel and die.

I reminded him of our relation,
Deep and precious as life.
But he faltered and panicked,
Before he lent me his hand.
Gathering courage,
He demanded a name.
The blood drained from his face
As i smiled and replied "Satan".

Sleep

"Sleep my child"
I seem to hear,
Leaden lids,
Pupils unfocussed,
Sight's a haze,
Sounds are dull,
And I can't feel
My fingers.

Its vice like grip,
When threatened,
By the alarm clock,
Or the ringing bell,
It shows you how,
What you're waking to do,
Is already on its way,
And the moment,
You're off your guard,
The reveries restart,
Consciousness whisked away.

Creeps up,
Catches you upfront,
Its sneaky nonetheless,
Comforting,
Weakening,
Pleasing,
Overpowering,
It wrestles you to the ground.

Suddenly I realize,
Its eaten away
Several minutes of my life
And I don't know now,
What she's talking about.
Fuck !
This predatory sin.

I spend all day,
Fighting it,
Keeping it at bay,
But come night,
All cravings satisfied,
I give in and sleep
With the enemy.