Dear You…

“You want love at your own convenience

As one does their daily chore

Of cooking, washing and cleaning

For you consider like any other feeling

You say you don’t want to eat when you don’t feel hungry

And so you say of love, probably you are right

What right one has to force themselves over you

You must choose when you want to love one and when you do not

If one cries foul, you must shunt them away and close them behind

For you cannot entertain intruders

They are dangerous, addicts

Who would trap you in their lizard like faces

And crocodile tears, only to

Suffocate you beneath their false tales

You must not listen to them

You are right, for you choose to listen to yourself

You must not give way to anyone

Who tries to deceive you with an idea

‘Love is different - you must carry a mutual feeling’ hell no!

Beware of such evil eyes, save yourself

Let the world burn if it must

Sleep well dear you, you must be tired. Remember

Love will come to you if it needs you

Love will come to you if you demand it

You must own love as one owns a puppet

And put it on display; with all your affection, for the world to see

You are kind-hearted after-all…”

Praveen Parasar

13/08/2016

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“Our life revolves around moment where we do not mean what we say, what we do, what we hear, or what we tend to crave for. And then there are moments when suddenly adjectives change their meaning and our lives turn upside down, only for us to carry corpse of our heart in a body made to stand strong - pretend even stronger. Emotions have purpose and we have mastered the art of displaying it deceivingly.

Forget and forgive; now he understood its meaning, something we end up applying upon self more than anyone else. We scream for light as darkness would leave ourselves on display naked and it is never going to be easy to confront. We are fragile where we expect to draw strength from, we could hide ourselves all day, yet the night would know. 

Life…!

"I am life

Your master, who you owe

Your flesh and bones

Your truth and lies

Your filth and plight

Your pain and cries

Who did you think

Owns you and your shadow

I will rob you of your tears

And put you on display

I will sell your dreams

And nightmares alike,

For you cannot distinguish anyway

I will drink your blood, which

You have diluted off your pretensions

And get high listening to your screams

While you will be deprived of sleep

For they are my lullaby

You must entertain me the way

I wish, what else but an act

You have practiced all these years and still,

You fear being given

Your soul on platter

For you must taste how does it feel

To eat yourself,

Self, which you sold a long time back

To me, I am your life

And I promise to keep you dead

Until you realize you cannot escape

For you have lost your right to die

And death has refused

To carry you away

For I am your life

And I enjoy watching you suffer

You must enjoy it too..."

Praveen Parasar

31/07/2016

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“You never know what is at stake until you are on your knees looking at the fag end, where lies nothing but ruins of your past, laughing at you for your own ignorance which you chose, for you decided rather to have faith, faith! When did you having faith in faith anyway? This is your crime, you must embrace the punishment. You chose the wrong start, now you chose your own wrong end. 

Falling in the abyss is not so bad when you know where you are falling, when you know it is an abyss and you would be falling for ever; until there’s nothing left of you but a fading shadow which vanishes in thin air like you never existed, just like memories. Was it a mistake, was it an adventure, was it right gone wrong, who knows, for life enjoys watching one suffer in chaos, for death relishes in watching one sleep in silence. Who knows what one has asked for until it is served?

You are never right until they say so, you are never wrong until you say so. Alas! Those moments of vulnerable intimacy, those moments of vigorous confrontation, moments when one is made to fall, moments when one decides to stand up. It just goes one, another continuum, just like that abyss; all he could do is to let himself fall, waiting…”

Seduction!

"While I contemplate invitation of your lips

To taste them

I am mocked by your breasts

For my words seems to drown in their fervent heaviness

While I watch them sink beneath the palpable softness of your skin

As if those cold blooded curves were not enough

To make them scurry up and down, like a little rodent trapped

Between crest of your breasts to tempting mounds of hips

And while they nervously attempt to escape

I see your eyes watching them, as if to quench her thirst

As if delighted, as if mischievous as ever,

Oozing lust, and asking to follow for I must

I sleepwalk to your honey pot

Only to be lost forever in its trails, slave of your dreams…”

Praveen Parasar

05/07/2016

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“When despite knowing the life altering circumstances ahead you cannot stop, for you find no control what so ever upon yourself, as if a wild passionate animal has possessed you and you have no option then to sleepwalk around, watching yourself fall into the flames of your lust, to get yourself destroyed and yet that inglorious moment of flame keeps you hypnotized and stunned to react anyway. This is never about destiny or fate, this is our own postmortem we choose to do upon our wounds hidden too long inside to be operated in silence, re-opening of scars must be celebrated and so is the death such flames bring you, for now there is something beyond night which has taken possession of your essence, such joy of pain…”

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“This isn’t about love, which is caring, loving, soft and cuddly. This is about that wild lust which awaits moment to engulf us as if that absolute darkness which sets the lonely night on fire post twilight, a rare sadistic tale, where lies no scope of compassion but two wild beast ready to take down each other ruthlessly, no emotion but a sheer pleasure of selfish passion, which delights itself watching other being burnt, which cares for none but itself. Where there are no boundaries, no respect, and no accommodation but only to ruin each other as gloriously as possible. This is not about constructing temples of love but about destruction of graveyards where our inner demons spend sleepless nights, looking to make a kill and quench its ever growing thirst…”