Rejection Phobia - A Typical Male Syndrome

Blind dates, long distance affairs, telephonic relations, pen friends, childhood crushes and a typical male behind them all! Everyone is unique, every man is different. Yet, the fear of rejection always lurks like an inevitable shadow around an urban man. So, let’s find out more about this typical male syndrome.

Ex Girlfriends, Ghosts and That Secret Potion of Desire

Sweet melodies of yesteryears often soothe his soul. Confused past, hazy memoirs and long drives in his father’s old gypsy illuminates his apartment. The shadows of his ex girlfriends keep haunting him. Those larger than life greeting cards, those soft toys, those bracelets, those watches, those letters are locked inside his closet. Time changes, feelings evolve, old friends reunites. The air never remains the same.

How to Tweet Like Jim Morrison

Microblogging! The new addition to the content hungry universe is making everyone bit crazy. Some people are investing hefty sum of money to gain followers, some folks tweeting extra sensible quotes, some individuals trying to be little humorous, the celebrities gaining millions of followers overnight and some people are still dazed. They retweet, copy paste some old quotations, sometimes news and views and most of the times they just keep gazing at the time line without having any words to write.

Bedroom Story - What Indian Women Want In Bed?

Indian women are flawless, intelligent and wild in bed. They know the art of taming a wild stallion, they knows the magic of weaving a satisfying tale. Everyone is unique and every girl has their priorities.

Winter Loneliness - Why Loneliness is Ecstatic?

The music of David Gilmour (On an Island) is creating a dreamlike ambience; the loner is busy writing his chronicle in his studio apartment, he is capturing the ecstasy of being lonely in an overcrowded city. He is mutely inhaling the drifting joy and the lingering silence, he is growing from within, he is catching the stars, and he is alive…

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Monday, May 31, 2010

That Rainy Night



The soothing darkness before rain
The tranquil breeze after the storm
Some cosy reminiscences
And a wet pillow of gloom.

The cottage amid the clouds
The river in the backyard
Those snow clad mountains
Creates a memorable sonata.

Droplets of mist over the newly born leaves
Those mud covered aisles
Those songs of harmony,
Rejuvenates every dried area


That rainy night, she brought thunder
That rainy night, the wind made noises of desire
The generous drops of rain endlessly fell upon her…
The hill top cottage looked placid in its new attire.

She swayed her arms in the air
She played with those droplets unaware and unperturbed.
Raindrops kept amusing her
She was transformed into a carefree teenager
That rainy night -
She was capturing happiness with open arms…

The soothing darkness before rain
The tranquil breeze after the storm
Some cosy reminiscences
Beckons her amid turmoil and misery
She fervently yearns for raindrops
She tries to abandon the urban tyranny.

There is no benign tide
There is no serene drive
There are only teardrops
and a wet pillow of gloom
Accompanying her tonight…




Sunday, May 30, 2010

The Mystical Songstress



She unties her long curls
She feels the stirring sky
Her auburn eyes blink
Her body sways with the awaited breeze…

She croons in pain,
She feels the ephemeral rain
Her lips move softly
Her throat exudes glee…

She weaves tales of love
She creates melodies of loneliness
Her fading voice reaches every silent corner
Her songs touch everyone
like a waft of frozen air…
There is so much longing
There is a sense of an unrequited desire…

She unties her long curls
She feels the stirring sky
Her auburn eyes blink
Her body sways with the awaited breeze
Her ethereal songs create a unique storm

Suddenly the wind becomes heavy
The night becomes darker
The melodies becomes louder

There is a unique turmoil all around
There is no sound of glee
She walks away without a rour
The mystical songstress is gone forever
Leaving behind a waning whisper...


Saturday, May 29, 2010

Overnight Fame - The Sherlyn Chopra Way



Who is Sherlyn Chopra? Oh! Dude she is the next big thing in the tinsel town. Who said so? Hey, every guy in India is doing that. Really? But why? Because she is hot! C’mon, is she hotter than Kim Kardashian? I guess she is not.

Once upon a time, the world was little different but things have changed now. There is nothing wrong in doing shameless self promotion, which can be in any form – it can be a nude picture too. Hey! That’s crazy…No, recently our own Sherlyn Chopra posed nude and distributed her picture through the biggest social networking platform “Twitter”. Is she a disturbed child? No, she is just trying to achieve an overnight fame. That’s not bad I guess for a lady who isn’t getting attention from our filmmakers rather she is now followed by young as well as old. Actually, she is bit entertaining with her words too. I can see sensuousness exuding from her casual chirps.

Everyone is talking about her pictures and I am not an exception but is it right to expose yourself in your birth day suit especially in a country like India?  Hey Dude! C’ mon, are you acting as a moral police when you yourself scanned ten times through those pictures…

Well, I don’t know what’s wrong and what’s right but Sherlyn’s recent adventure reflects nothing but her desire to gain attention. I am not blaming her but some people may not like it…

I haven’t seen her movie as I hardly watch C grade flicks but who cares. She is popular now… Her forte in undressing herself with sheer grace made her an overnight celebrity and nobody is complaining. Are you? If yes than you can drop your comments or tweet her.

You can follow her to read her heart and spot some sizzling never seen before pictures. She tweets here http://twitter.com/sherlynchopra

She would make you her tweetheart for sure. Hey dude! Are you following her? Hmm…


Friday, May 28, 2010

Vampire and the Belly Dancer


The watchmen is sleeping tonight
The moon is hidden behind the clouds
The owls are weeping in fright
The beetles buzzing without delight
The wind is quivering tonight.

Her Half-dark apartment is filled with a whimsical breeze
Her lips suddenly froze without a sigh
She surrendered herself to the approaching storm.
That fickle mist infiltrates inside her chambers
Creating a unique harmony amid tenderness… 

There were uneven noises; there was a sound of glee
The pink haze slowly penetrates into her soul
There was a unique sensation amid so much turmoil
The encounter was no less than a marvel
Tonight, she isn’t alone
Tonight, she isn’t alone…


Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Imaginary World – Vampires, Dragons and Some Fallen Angels




Take some potion, you’ll feel good. Have some glasses of desire, you’ll fly. Take a dip in the ocean of dreams. You’ll a get a glimpse of bliss. The ordinary world is full of chaos – Mental and physical. The other world looks greener. The distant sky beckons you; the farthest corner of the world understands you. The void inside you gives you sleepless nights while the imaginary world exudes nothing but delight. The unique cloud formation in the eastern sky soothes your eyes, the morbid reality isn’t that beautiful, and you are just an ordinary soul walking carelessly through the aisles of greed, comparison and hopelessness. Your thoughts are cornered, your smiles are never recognized, and your existence is felt by nobody. You are just like a mannequin with some flesh and blood.

The imaginary world is bright, full of angles, sunbeams and humanity. It’s your abode where you can flaunt yourself the way you want. You can mold your dreams, you can paint pictures of love and lust, you can yell at the top your voice, you can whine like a baby, who can stay like a king.

The pink haze won’t pester you, the dilemma and boredom will never torture you. There’s no boundary, there’s no expectation, there is only on thing that’s freedom. The imaginary world is my kind of world. You are amid vampires, dragons and some fallen angels but they do no harm. You can hear songs of nightingale. The ghosts of dead poets give you a hearty smile here.

The real world gives you pain while you can easily rejuvenate and pamper yourself by visiting this world. You are someone here…

The cold blooded evils have no place in this imaginary world. The materialism fades into oblivion in the world of fantasy. You’ll never find a hint of disharmony.

Here everybody is fine like you and me. Here everybody finally smiles like you and me. There are only symphonies of glee when the two worlds meet. You will never feel disgusted and tired with your imaginations. You will just fly like a mocking bird in the blue sky…


Monday, May 24, 2010

Behind The Mask




Behind the mask, there dwells a heart
Full of pain, love and delight
Behind his smiles, there is a grin
Wicked, shrewd and full of lust.
Behind the mask, there is a stranger
Cold, bland and rude…

Behind the chaos, there is a hope
Flowery, romantic and soft…
Behind the naked facade,
There is architecture of glee
Behind the blue moon
There is an eternal darkness…

The looking glass in his living room

Exudes a sense of pride
The mask looks beautiful from outside…

The four walls feel his solitary pain
The anomaly and the madness

Composes a unique storm…

Behind the mask, there is a heart
Waiting to be a part of the world…
Behind the mask, there is a king

Struggling to acquire his lost kingdom…
Behind everything, there is actually nothing
And that emptiness creates the Mask…



Sunday, May 23, 2010

Two Quotes



1. The word “comparison” is an evil in disguise.

2. Great writers may not be popular and popular writers may not be that great. I think a great piece of writing is usually simple, accurate and sad.



By Me...


Saturday, May 22, 2010

Plane Crash



Closing my eyes,
Feeling the deep blue sky
I am flying with the tide
The wind was same, the ambiance was fine
I am flying with the clouds.
I am coming back home

Closing my eyes
Feeling the deep blue sky
I am listening to my favorite song
The wind was same,
My mood was young
I am coming back home…

I am peeping through the glass
I am seeing my own face
I am getting restless to meet my dear ones
The wind was same
My mood was lively

I am swaying my body with delight
All those fond memories revisiting me
I am listening to my favorite song
I am flying; I am just flying with a hope…

The wind started blowing harder
Some unfriendly smokes surrounded me
I tried to move myself a bit
I tried to break free…
…………………………………………………………
Closing my eyes
I am feeling the deep blue sky
I flying away with all my dreams
Leaving behind some happy memories…


Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Portrait of a Fleeting Shadow




Tonight I am not capturing your heart
Tonight I am not scribbling for delight
I could see pain in your eyes
I could see those bland smiles
I could hear the silence
I am living another day of curse…

My mouth is craving for water
My soul is no more breathing for you
Tonight I am writing for that vanished love
Tonight I am not feeling those melodies of lust.
I could see those bland smiles
I could see those unseen tears

The twinge is agonising
The fleeting shadows are disturbing me.
I could see some flash of light
I could see some eerie smiles in the dark…
Tonight I am capturing your silence
Tonight I am not craving for your presence….

My fingers are moving slowly
My eyes are fixed,
And my tongue is no more fluttering.
Tonight I am not yearning for raindrops
Tonight I am just feeling the void…


Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Maroon Sky – A Prayer for Rain



Hey Rain God, where are you these days?
Hey Rain God, why are you so angry with us?
Hey Rain God, Why you are torturing us so much?
Hey Rain God, Why don’t you show your face once?

Delhi is burning while everywhere it’s raining
We are craving for some drops
We are whining every day and night long
Hey Rain God, when are you visiting us…

Listen to our prayers; please come back from the Himalayas.
We are sulking; we are so very in pain.
The hot air is biting us,
Everything is so dry
There is something missing in our lives
Hey Rain God, why don’t you play your unique song?
Hey Rain God, why don’t you send some thunderbolts?

The volcanic heat is creating storm in our minds
The dripping sweat is killing us
We are missing that cool evening breeze,
We are tired of facing that piercing morning heat
We are dying for drops.

The maroon sky is staring at us rudely
The languish trees are showing no signs of glee
Hey Rain god, please give us some eternal shower
Hey Rain god, we are eagerly waiting for you…


Monday, May 17, 2010

Backside of the Moon

She sways her body like the candle in the wind. Her perfume tickles your heart, her soft touch creates mayhem. There is so much agony in her eyes, the world looks like a pot full of desire with her sight. She moves her hands in harmony; she can transform a Satan into sand. She can placate a restless soul. Backside of the moon moves with ease and the world revolves around it. Those peaceful valleys and hills beckon you for a union. The arcs give you an eternal satisfaction…

Woman! If I am not wrong is a work of art. Their soft clayey fa├žade, their irresistible grin and their tranquil presence is a treat to everyone’s eyes. They are unpredictable yet so very lovable. They have a world of their own where only the selected few finds place. Mood swings, confusions and lust for deciphering life pester their beautiful souls. They are unique, they are restless but they are very focused unlike men. They are good at deciding things. They have no end to their imagination. They are avid dreamers…

Understanding them may not be an easy thing. Their rudeness may be a reflection of love; their sudden love may be a reflection of their guilt. There are so many possibilities. The mystery continues to woo human psyche. Sometimes their silence exudes approval; sometimes their nod could reflect rejection. They love to hang around with people who make them smile.

There are no golden rules to seduce a woman. There are only possibilities and impossibilities. Yet, they prefer to experiment a lot before plunging into that sea of desire and sometimes everything happens spontaneously. Everything is incomplete without their presence. Sometimes it takes ages to understand them and sometimes it happens within a second.

They can be the reason for your rise; they can be the reason for your fall. They have those keys to unlock your suppressed desires. They have the charm that can make you complete…


Image courtesy: Monika Berenyi


Saturday, May 15, 2010

Some Hidden Chapters from an Urban Man's Diary



Schizophrenia, madness, lust, dry orgasms and hallucinations create dirty shadows. There is unexpected collapse, there are heartbreaks, there is agony – his smile no more exudes glory. There is suffocation, there is heat, there is death, there are violins, and there are leafless trees. Saturdays, Mondays, Tuesdays and Sundays look all same.

The movement is missing as he is cursed by humanity. His brain is no more working. He is our urban man – clueless and dazed. His teardrops are nothing but water, his existence is nothing but pain.

He sees nightmares, he shivers in his loneliness, and his screams for freedom are unheard. His soft voice amuses nobody, his writes fluff. He is juggling between the realms of sanity and insanity. His eyes are red, he smokes in haste, he whistles but in pain. Misunderstandings, hatred and loudness are creating uproar.

He is dying every night; he is our urban man who feels no fright. Cactus, trance, drugs, one night stands and betrayals are the part of his life. He is like filth moving like a dead man through the aisles of lust and gore. He is sleeping with escorts; he is chasing a mirage...

There is ugliness, there are rats. The urban man is taking a blood bath. He is on the prowl. He is walking alone through the haze of desire. He is witnessing a fall. The urban man is unable to clear his scars; he is unable to rise…

Suddenly – He wakes up, he sees the morning light, he gets the fragrance of white lilies, and he finds solace and harmony. Finally, he is awake. He is no more quivering in his loneliness. The urban man is all free, he is flying now, and he is whistling with delight, he is back after some scary dark nights….


Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Wonderbra – Keep Wondering What Lies Beneath



There are various facets of life. Some gives you instant pleasure; some surfaces are rough while mostly there are curves. A Female body is like those hills and valleys that everyone loves to decipher and fantasize. An undressed desire often knocks your door. There is a mystery inside every box; there is enormous beauty within. Wondering about the unseen often creates restlessness. So, let’s find out what lies beneath…

Wonderbra is the latest fascination. Men admire them while women love to flaunt them. The pushed up feeling is full of vitality. Young girls feel like a grown up while older ones feel much younger with a wonderbra. It can be a wild party or an in-house get together; a wonderbra often generates curiosity among the casual gazers. There is so much beauty sandwiched between…

They are also known as doodle bras. The names sound quite interesting though. The cushioning is what is important and the look comes naturally from them. A standard one is often suitable for a family get together. This looks fine in traditional attire where they have other things to flaunt too. Some try to hide away and use minimizers while others want to show off with maximizers. And some try to look natural with none. Men mostly loves the natural ones though.

There are convertible bras. We often see them in late night parties. They are also known as strapless. There are lots of scope of designing and metamorphosing and no one is complaining. Some are adhesive while some are especially designed for those voluptuous ones.

There are colors for love, lust and fun. Some loves pink, blue and red while most of them love white and black. There are colors for every occasion. Woman’s body has so much to decipher. Wonderbra and convertibles looks good but there is nothing like an undressed desire…

Keep reading…


Saturday, May 08, 2010

The Urban Chaos – A Tale About Lust, Love and Disharmony




Together we created castles of sand, together we went through the narrow aisles, and together we felt that beautiful pain. There are various things in life that often tickles our bones; there are various moments in our life that stays like an everlasting shadow. We keep moving with the flow but the chaos of our past keeps pestering us.

We often remember those intimate moments with our loved ones; we often get carried away by that silent storm of desire. The ditch gives us fright. The ugly haze of pain never abandons us. They just keep intruding in our lives. The smoke of disharmony makes us restless and we feel like burning all memories and walk with that fake smile.

The world is changing everyday but we are always the same. There are sounds of silence in our living rooms, there are photographs of lust in our closet, there are some maple leaves and there are some old letters that exude nothing but agony.

Together we stood against the approaching thunderstorm, together we made our kingdom. The aura of our past may not be soothing always; the wind blowing from the west may not be that great. Our existence may be somewhat hazy; our present may not be flowery. There are old wine bottles in our balconies, there are ashes of reminiscences sleeping everywhere in our thoughts, there are cacophonies here and there.

We love to gaze at the shining moon, we love to admire the twinkling stars, we love to cuddle, and we love to walk hand in hand below the shades. Everything is just momentary but there is always a hope.

There are moments of rejuvenation, there are times of depression, there are different phases of life and we love to feel the vivid nuances. The tale of lust, love and disharmony is nothing but those phases that keep us alive amid an extreme chaos…


Friday, May 07, 2010

My Old Pair of Jeans


Days, months and years gone by
Many summers, many winters and many memories
Are simply left behind…

There were moments of glory
There were times of desire
The tide kept changing
The wind kept moving
But the increasing charm of my old pair of jeans
Kept imitating a sense of harmony…

It’s becoming familiar with rain and the heat
It’s bestowing a unique euphoria
The natural fade is exuding style
I am feeling at ease,
I am enjoying the overall makeover.

It’s hanging now like a laid-back king
Thinking, resting and snoring without fright.
Once unrecognized, labeled and tagged
Once mishandled and molested by shopkeepers
Is now free like a mocking bird, enjoying every delight.

I can’t leave this beauty
I am naturally getting in vogue.
It’s no more bullied as tattered and frayed
Rather envied and gazed.
The tale of my old pair of jeans ends here,
with a hope and a bit of desire…


Wednesday, May 05, 2010

Sublingual Drops of Gloom


Careless winds scratching my cheeks, hands and back endlessly
It’s intruding into my skin without a knock
Creating sounds of melancholy every where,
Thundering through the noiseless corners
Slapping the four walls of my heart…

I am inhaling darkness
I am getting evaporated
The sound of music is creating a unique trance
The voluptuous dancers are calling my name
They are making wine from that beautiful pain…

The light is fading into darkness
The shadows of dead
Are lurking in my veins
The chaos is rising like a volcano
The jungles and valleys
Are shouting my name
I am drinking agony like a thirsty soldier…

The four walls of my living room are biting me
My windowpane is craving for some raindrops
The ugliness is increasing,
The softness is missing….

The insanity is becoming musical
Symphonies of lust getting lyrical
The belly dancers are shouting my name
The sound of music is instigating my fingers

I could see rising smokes
I could see you…
I could see your ghost
I am no more tempted by your unique charm
I am elevated without the thrust
I am flying without those wings
I am no more taking those sublingual drops of gloom…


Tuesday, May 04, 2010

A Long Walk through the Aisles of Cacophony



He grins amid chaos, hunger, restlessness and disharmony. He observes and walks away without pronouncing anything. He collects soft pebbles and maple leaves, he preserves and captures every memories. He scribbles endlessly; he floats with the approaching breeze. The thunderstorm wakes him up, he hides inside a safe place as he tries to run from the shadows of death. He fails in the game of love but rises in his loneliness.

Bad angels keep disturbing him but he could still see those divine smiles caressing and supporting him. His frozen thought slightly melts down and he drinks them with an extreme delight. The monotony in his words no more tortures him, the connection keeps motivating him. He becomes a chronicler of pain, boredom and delight. He keeps rubbing his head. Confusions and clueless ness keeps him sane. He peeps through his windowpane to see the world outside, he tries to inhale the fragrance of a hot summer daytime.

A long walk through the aisles of cacophony is becoming interesting for him as he is capturing vivid pictures of melancholy, happiness and an inbuilt madness throughout the journey.  The weirdness is exuding smokes of hope; the perpetual stillness in his life is producing wings of desire. He is becoming friendly to those streetlights, he is happy to walk through the quietness of dark.

Suddenly he wakes up from his deep slumber only to find beautiful flowers and petals resting next to him. His world suddenly brightens up. The bad angels were gone, he is now a free man, and he is no more seeing nightmares, he became a free spirit and walking through the aisles of beauty, solace and glory again…



Saturday, May 01, 2010

The Forgotten Haze


Songs of desire, melodies of pain and some never-ending trauma of separation troubles them. They were never meant to stay together; they were destined to move away from each other. The broken silence between them exude disharmony, the ending looks abrupt…They say goodbye to each other, they fly away without a sigh! But their tale continues to blossom within mud and water…

Different land, different people and a different kind of pain continues to pester them. They became restless without each other’s company. Their nights became murky - full of owls, beetles and dust. Their days became mundane, mechanical and soul less. They began to crave for raindrops amid dryness and melancholy. They had different partners, they had dissimilar life.


Writing was their passion. They began to scribble; they began to create clouds of friendly mist around them through their words. They tried to dance; they tried to make love with their poetry.  Words began to fly from one land to another. Their emotions began to travel from one corner of the world to another and finally they collide in harmony. Two books written by two different authors without endings made them reunite, re-visualise and re-identify those forgotten haze of desire….