The Mass Butchering!

See that exclamation mark. Yeah it was for bringing and darting your attention to the topic we all here everyday in the tube,radios,Facebook and twitter feeds ,newspapers ..blah ,blah ,but never really pay heed to it.

I could present you with some boring stats here mate! ,but i would like to sting you all my friends about the truth of the greatest refugee crisis we are facing since World War 2 and that is due to millions of Syrian’s fleeing their country in order to survive the bloody civil war that has ravaged the nation from head to toe.

It makes me sad how we as a collective human society could be so heartless and non-caring about children washing dead ashore and boats carrying hundreds of people sinking the Mediterranean .

Above that ,now we do have a Travel Ban to stop these “Terrorists” and “Muslims” at the gates of the world’s oldest democracy. Seriously fuck you Trump!

I am not here to preach you all, but it’s my responsibility and your’s too if you haven’t traded your soul with the devil to show some empathy and love towards them.They are desperate and in need .So just open your borders,verify them and let them in Europe and America so that you don’t have to meet the real devil in the end.


Here is a small poem I have dedicated to this Global Calamity.Hope you learn.


Laughter in the Slaughter


“Soul’s burning, lives sacrificed in Syria”, the tube flashed

“We accept donations from Christians only”, read the money box

“Does humanity preach uplifting a human”

“Or dividing life or death between these narrow walls”, I asked


She stared into me searching for eternal shallowness

And, then whispered in my ears

“Charity is over the corner, Sir!”

“This world runs on profit and power”, she said in obviousness

“Is humanity profitable?”, She asked


I looked at her and then around me in a dismay and hopelessness

“Is this what the world reduced to?”, I murmured

As, I, strolled in shock across the colossal glass door

“The smile on her face, reminds me the grin on the grim reaper’s face”, I imagined


“Death comes to us all”

“Flush and bones rot and wither away” the sorrowful heart whispered

But what this world will do with an eternal fallen soul

Isn’t this the devil’s haul?



As the privileged laugh

On the slaughter of poor

I imagine, who has really fallen

The Satan, or the children of God.


So,Help our brothers and sisters who are fleeing leaving their everything behind .Show some empathy you Cold Stones!160303085722-restricted-02-migrant-crisis-0303-super-169

Till then! Ciao. Will meet again.


Hey if you like my content please don’t forget to follow my blog(The Diary of the fallen soul)





The Monsoon Winds!

So, she is finally here. Noooo!! not a Lass or a Dame flaunting her superficial colors over the park .I am talking about the rains.Here in the subcontinent we call these winds which bring in the water to the thirsty land as “Monsoon”.Such a beautiful and soothing name isn’t it.Love it.

So,Finally the Rains have begun,and I being  an emotional typewriter has started to spill my ink all over my blog exemplifying it’s beauty and expressing my gratitude to it.

But who does not love dark skies , cold zephyr and the green and rejuvenated nature all around.It’s like the God’s Gift for an Atheist ,isn’t it.

Monsoon soaks us all in the most spiritual feeling of all.It turns up the artist is us.So bloody hell! stop complaining about the puddles and the insects and pick up your pastel,pen or charcoal and just let your heart flow over .Monsoon does have a special bond with me! I like it’s damp and wet weather.


So now here is a small tribute ,to one of the most calming and beautiful forces of nature as I dedicate my creation to you beauty!!





Standing, in my balcony as I sip my cup of tea

A gentle, cool breeze swept touching my skin

Evaporating all my melancholy and glee

As I turned over a new leaf again.


Dark clouds, gathered in the heaven up above

To, wet the tree and the earth

And, the ships that sail in the sea

Extinguishing the flames of anguish and desire, sunk in the heart deep.


And, now the drizzle began, quenching the thirst

Of every perishable man on earth

As the god thundered and bolted the light

The earth welcomes the monsoon with joy.


The rain and the wind display this art

Of spiritual blessing and rejuvenation, in the gods part

And, I stand now, on the field, drenched from head to toe

As my arms are now spread, soaking the beauty from its every stroke.


So,Pick up your caffeine,Wrap yourself nice and tight and fall in love with her winds again!


See you soon guys! and remember to follow me if you like my content.

Till then. DASVIDANIYA !!

The Gay Pride!!

Yes.Hush!,Hush! all around eh now.

I am from India and here same sex love and marriage is BANNED! Fuck you article 377. This one law was enforced in the late 19th century India ,by the British and now when they are gone we Indian’s refuse to give up our slave mindset.

“Against the law of nature”,”Unnatural,”Ewe!!Filthy”.These are some expressions the society uses against the homosexuals. Come on! Why even in the 21st century the human beings judge you on the basis of your sexual orientation(Although I find Illegal weed more disgusting).

Grow up society. Realize that Homosexual=Homo sapiens and just like us all they have a right to choose their partners and you are no one to interfere with their personal lives,Let alone fucking with it.

So, I now dream of an Utopian island where this malpractice does not exist and dream of a paradox where humans are actually civilized and sensible.

So, here goes the Poetry;

The Rainbow Shines

Wandering in a hamlet beside the green countryside

I, heard the cheers of tods and lads

As, they galloped and rushed towards the church

When the copper bell at the top tolled twice.


And, me too pulled by the curiosity and luck

Stepped into the marble floor, where the holy soul resides

Astonished to see, a wedding like none another

As they kissed in front of the mass who cheered.


Two men took their wedding vows that twilight of may

Exchanging pleasantries and gifts, as not an eye was in dismay

As the couple walked slowly past the gallery, of the lord’s house

With people showering flowers and their mothers darted, to hug them and their spouse.


And, I stood in awe, secretly adoring the victory of gay pride

As, the angels showered their blessing upon them, and the heaven rejoiced

For finally the clock has ticked past the historical human ignorance

About ones love, orientation and pure desires.


Hope we all understand one day that the sexual orientation of a person is not a social issue but a personal choice and everyone should be allowed to have their own lives.

Gay pride

Till Then!! Sayonara. See you soon guys and don’t forget to follow me if you like my content.

Why Harry Potter?

First of all apologies for the late post!! Got quite mixed up between college and poetry .Death Trap if you ask me!! .Hard to escape.

Finally made it to you all.A place where i belong.So let’s start.Shall we?

This is going to be a deep rant about the potterverse!and yeah that’s on you Rowling.

She, introduced us to a world we dream so hard to be part of. Oh Come On! You tell me you never tried “Wingardium Leviosa” (As pronounced by Hermione and not by Ron) and AvadaKedavra yourself. Never had a crush on Emma Watson or in my case Luna Lovegood. I always wanted to ride one of those dragons across the castles of Scotland on a full moon night . Beautiful isn’t it.No!!

Dreams were shattered, when I woke up finding my real world had no place in this palace of fiction. You give us hope Harry and then snatch it away. Of course I wanted to stand beside you when you defeated Tom Riddle and be the part of the Tri-Wizard competition.

You made us enter this beautiful dream where Magic and Charms ruled the land and then cast out as Mudbloods. I will always hate you Harry for that.

But slowly, i have learnt that we can find magic in our own lives ,little bit of it. Scattered all around us because in this world there may be no wands and spells but there is definitely MAGIC.

Till then.

Good Bye!! Muggles.Find the Magic in you and yes Potter we need to talk!.


P.S-Hey follow me if you like my content.Would love your support.Harry


Do you seek solace?

Well do you!! Bit obvious isn’t it for us humans to dream of a paradise located at the seventh sky .Where we “Work WHORES” would relax in peace,Eat without toiling and enjoy all the unlabeled and undeserved fruits too sweet for our tongue.

Well that’s how most people define solace. But what really is solace and does it really exist.

Or is it just a fragment of our own out of control horses of mind that always want to stray away from work towards sleep.

Well for me solace lies “In receiving what you seek”. But it’s temporary in the end.


So Here is a poem about my conceptions of solace ,because poetry describes better than the nature  itself isn’t it?




Far beyond this cruel and cringe worthy world

Lies a place, where the humanity gets its worth

Where, truth triumphs over deception with ease

And, words are spoken without any grease


A, place where angels resides without any fear

And, the devil is held tight in the cuff of its own injustice

Where, peace reigns and justice resides

A paradise where love conquer over loath and desire


Oh God, then sense it is an empty hearse

“Full of flowers but no one to bear”, I cursed

Not a soul rests in peace on this land

Because, such gardens are only found in Bible and Quran.


“Even, the heaven is fallen”

“How do you think hell came to existence my dear”

“Casting out his own son was his act”

“Isn’t his devilry, all in parts”, Someone whispered in my ears





Not a soul rests in peace in this land or above

As, this fragment of lie was fostered and conserved

Through Sordid passions of the doomed and the God

And we being mere audience in this play

Serve, the cross, ignoring that its purpose is lost


And, no realms of peace exist anymore

As, the sufferings are never really gone for long

Who do I worship for solace and peace?

As in the lost paradise

Almighty is the God and he is the priest.


So you be the judge now? Do we as humanity really need solace? Why toil and tear ourselves up for the world that does not deserve us.


Till Then!! Make up your minds .Till we meet again!! See ya all.

Hey !! Just follow my blog if you like my content. More coming soon.:)

Satan’s argument’s

It’s time for the poetry again! Great to back to the roots again.

Hey one more thing , I am going to publish my own poetry chapbook by the end of this year so wish me luck!! Also follow my blog if you like my content.

Done with the formal part, now let me take you take to a journey

There was the most beautiful angel in heaven named Lucifer. He had a beautifully carved faced, chiseled body and knew how to play all the musical instruments . Once he challenged the god and we all what happened after that.


But isn’t it biased that we see the story only from the perspective of god. Was it wrong to challenge him and raise your voice.Casting out someone from heaven just because he questioned your rule! Well isn’t it tyranny and who is the devil now?


My poetry here explores this argument .

So let’s dip into the words . Shall we?





Ruling the dark underworld, where mortal has no rightful place to live

Where the soul screams, and the goodness withers away in the stream

Where, the holy father does not have his hand or part in the justice served

Where sins are burnt and the pain is real

That’s the place where I command and regime.


Despised and turned down, by every door I knock

I wished to seek following of my art and thought

“Why does God have the world believing in him?”

“Even though the darkness is his own part”

“But you are too blinded to see this because of your faith”, I spoke to humanity.


“And why do you seek solace in heaven”

“When you can be the eternal God of hell”

“Does peasantry and lifetime obedience in paradise serve you more”

“Or, the power you deserve in the netherworld”

“Now, ask your conscious”- I preached.





Your faith binds you in him and blinds you to the truth

That the judge sitting in heaven deciding the fate of all

Is blotted with the sins, too despicable for even me to imagine

And his lust for power and control, over the three worlds

Is what hidden behind these saintly white robes.




So choose your sides friend !!  Meet you soon !! Love you all. ASTA LA VISTA.





Is Poetry Dead?

Is the poetry dead?

On the off chance that that is the situation, America ought to be marginally concerned. Mr. Blanco is a mobile case of the American dream — as he puts it “the American story is from multiple points of view my story — a nation as yet attempting to arrange its own particular character, gotten between the heaven of its establishing beliefs and the substances of its history, attempting to make sense of it, attempting to “wind up” even today — “trust” as new on our tongues as it ever might have been.”

He has defeat various snags, battled against restriction both inside and outer — so as to exceed expectations in verse, a field that may in all likelihood be out of date.


I say this lovingly as a student. If poetry is dead, we are in the next ward over, wheezing noisily, with our family gathered around looking concerned and asking about our stereos.

Still I think there is a question to be asked. You can tell that a medium is still vital by posing the question: Can it change anything?

Can a poem still change anything?

I think the medium won’t not be sufficiently boisterous any more. There are around six individuals who purchase new poem, yet they are not feeling extremely well. The last time I discovered a poem perusing, the participants were practically no matter what understudies of the poet who were there in the expectations of additional credit. One of the ballads, if memory serves, comprised of a rundown of names of Supreme Court judges. I am not saying that it was a terrible lyric. It was a decent ballad, inside the limitations of what verse implies now. In any case, I think what we mean by poem is a limp and fangless thing.


All the glory of verse goes back to when it was the way you got the most indispensable news there is — your kin’s stories. “The Iliad.” “The Odyssey.” “Gilgamesh.” All writing used to be verse. Be that as it may, at that point fiction chipped off. At that point the kind of story you sung could be recorded and the words did not need to invest any energy outside the organization of their music in the event that they would not like to. We have motion pictures now that are equipped for giving pictures to us an exactness that would have made Ezra Pound capsize. Every one of the things that verse used to do, different things improve. Be that as it may, actually despite everything we have government-financed writers. Artists resemble the Postal Service — a gathering of individuals diligently accomplishing something that we at no time in the future need, under the confusion that they are putting forth us an indispensable administration.

“Verse is dead,” writer Gwydion Suilebhan tweeted Monday. “What puts on a show to be verse now is either New Age blather or ambiguous hogwash or babble. It’s zombie verse.” There is at no time in the future, truly, any formal advancement conceivable. The imperatives of meter have for quite some time been relinquished. What is cleared out? It is a parroting of something that used to be radical. It is about as valuable as the clavichord. There is no “Wail” conceivable or “Melody of Myself.” There is no “The Waste Land.”

As somebody who adores print books, I would rather not sort this and I trust that I am off-base. I need to hear the case for verse. It is something that you perused in school and that you write in school. In any case, it used to be that on the off chance that you were youthful and you needed to Change Things with your Words, you shot off and composed verse some place. You got together with companions at bistros and you composed verses and talked upset. Now that is the exact opposite thing you do.


These days, poetry is institutionalized. Everyone can write it. But if you want a lot of people to read it, or at least the Right Interested Persons, there are a few choked channels of Reputable Publications. Or you can just spray it liberally onto the Internet and hope it sticks.

Or am I being too harsh?

Something similar could be said of journalism, after all.

And whenever people say this about journalism, they note that people have an insatiable hunger for news. Journalism in its present form may not continue, but journalism will. It will have to. Otherwise where will the news come from?

And this might be the silver lining for poets. The kind of news you get from poems, as William Carlos Williams has it, must come from somewhere. And there is a similar hunger for poetry that persists. We get it in diluted doses in song lyrics. Song lyrics are incomplete poems, as Sondheim notes in the book of his own. If it is complete on the page, it makes a shoddy lyric. But there is still wonderful music to be found in those words. We get it in rap. If we really want to read it, it is everywhere. Poetry, taken back to its roots, is just the process of making — and making you listen.

But after the inaugural, after Richard Blanco’s almost seventy lines of self-reflection and the use of phrases like “plum blush” — which sounded like exactly what the phrase “poem” denotes to us now — I wonder what will become of it.

I don’t know where the words that will define us next will come from. But from Poetry Qua Poetry With Grants And Titles? Hope may be as fresh on our tongues as it ever was. But is poetry?

Until then Peace out!! Meet you all soon.
And please follow my blog if you like my content ( The Diary of the fallen Soul)

The Dilemma of Humanity

Dilemma of Humanity

What’s up folks!!

Well yeah it is a delayed post!! Apologies! Apologies!.

Well now in today’s world where people have lost their depth as a human being and the small talk is the new trend. I still talk in rhyme and those mystical words that form the poetry . I am not much of religious person but I believe in spirituality . My Concept of the Almighty is pretty distinct but that would be a talk of some other time. So let’s just the talk about angels for some time later shall we?

So , now I have come up with a poetry. Well this one is about an atheist which is greeted by both the angel and devil at the junction of earth, heaven and hell…So let’s dive into his world and understand what’s wrong with the situation here.


Standing at the junction of solace and pain

At the terminus of the Earth, where the path of heaven and hell began

I, was in a dilemma to choose a route and place my soul

Either in the heart of the heavenly father or, the Satan’s feet.

The demon, met me first representing his lord

And, proposed me an offer hard to refuse

“Be the King of the underworld, and rule on his behalf”

“Why you want to serve the angels when you can be the master of devil’s art?”

White wings flapped as the heavenly light shined

As the demon and me parted our ways

“Ye cannot drink the cup of the lord and the cup of the devil”

“Ye cannot have part in the lord’s table and the table of the devils” the heavenly thundered

“Do we provoke the lord to jealousy?”

“Are we stronger than he?”

“Have you lost all hope in salvation son?”

The angel thundered, preaching the lord’s word loud and clear

“Fly, with me to the heaven O’ sweet child”

Where mortal realms end and the kingdom of peace and solace lie

Serve, the holy father and you shall be rewarded

With gifts beyond your imagination and worth that you seek.

Hearing from both the lord and devil

I, discovered hard truth

That, both were desperate to get the mortals to follow them

By, luring them in through their promises, which were nothing but an empty hearse.

And, so, I smirked at the sight of both the demon and messenger of God

And, ordered them to tell their lords

That, this mortal will not trade his soul with your deceitful lies

As, both of them are the despicable spiders in the centre of this web of lies

Which, mortals treat as their faith when they see no hope in their sight.

The eternal crossroads is the saga and dilemma which we face everyday in our lives .So now it is up to the humanity to choose their sides or stand against the wall ignoring the truth.

Till then

Ciao!! Meet you soon.

You are welcome rain!

As the weather transits from the scorching summer to thunderous monsoon , the tempest has started to take it’s course  on this barren land  and inadequate but  sweet drizzle showers from the paradise to the earth.

Now we as a” Human Civilization” over the course of history ,celebrated rain and we do have god’s for it . Indra in Hinduism, Zephyrus in Greek etc.. etc.. . We do believe the presence of a mystical super creature in the clouds fucking us with lightning and pissing us with his heavenly drain as we have done for other natural phenomenon and sadly continue to do so.

Finally instead of being a rant over of an atheist i thought we should celebrate this beautiful ” Orgasm of nature” with a small poetry of mine that celebrates the entire zest of this beautiful drops that fall and my words ” Fucking bastards” capturing it’s enchanting magic

Here we go then…..


Trickling from the shrine

Pearls of joy and drops of solace embrace my soul

As it kisses my skin and soul with the tenderness and calmness of its abode

Takes me to a journey from dusk to dawn

Heaven to Earth, a place where this fallen broken soul belongs

Falling from heaven to quench the thirst of the barren land

The drops of wine restore the Earth’s solace and peace

Like the almighty grant’s away his blessings which this mortal being receives

And, for this soul, who can do what but to gaze in wonder

This spiritual cosmic bond between the creator and creation

These tears of love trickles down from my lips to my heart

Restoring my fallen consciousness

My soul dances and rejoices as the myth portray before it

Two legendary lovers meet and romances

And as for the body

It stands under the blue

For the rain to drip it again.


Hope you enjoy it…..

See ya till then!! Ciao.