"DEATH OF A PLAY"

THE HEADACHE

AND INSOMNIA

THE HEADACHE

AND INSOMNIA AGAIN

THE HEADACHE

AND INSOMNIA

AND BAD ACTORS

AND VERY BAD ACTORS

THE HEADACHE

AND INSOMNIA

AGAIN

AND AGAIN

THE PLAY WAS NEVER HEARD

THE PLAY WAS NEVER FELT

THE PLAY WAS NEVER UNDERSTOOD

THE HEADACHE

AND INSOMNIA

AT NIGHT

THE NOISE

THE NOISE

THE NOISE

THEY MADE A LOT OF NOISE

THE ACTORS

I REMEMBER THAT

THE NOISE

THAT NOISE CAME INTO THE HOUSE

THAT NOISE CAME INTO THE BEDROOM

THAT NOISE CAUSED THE HEADACHE

THAT NOISE CAUSED THE INSOMNIA

NOTHING WAS HEARD

BUT NOISE

NOTHING WAS FELT

BUT NOISE

NOTHING WAS UNDERSTOOD BUT NOISE

NO LINE FROM THE PLAY WAS MEMORABLE

NO FEELING FROM THE PLAY WAS FELT

NO REFLECTION UPON THE SUBJECT MATTER STIRRED ANYTHING

NOTHING WAS FELT

NO LINE MADE US SAD

NO LINE MADE US HAPPY

NO LINE MADE US EXCITED

NO LINE CAME OFF AS FUNNY

NO LINE WAS REMEMBERED AFTER THE SHOW

NOTHING WAS FELT

HEADACHE?

YES

A SEVERE HEADACHE

AND INSOMNIA?

YES

PERMANENT INSOMNIA THROUGHOUT

NO URGENCY IN THE DELIVERY

NO EFFECTIVE CADENCE

NO EFFECTIVE SPEED

NO EFFECTIVE EMOTIONAL LEVELS

NO EMOTIONAL LEVEL AT ALL

JUST NOISE

A LOT OF NOISE

NOT EVEN SHOUTING

JUST NOISE

A LOT OF NOISE

THAN IT WAS OVER

NO FEELING OF THE WORDS

THE ACTORS DIDN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY WERE SAYING

THE ACTORS DID NOT KNOW WHAT THEY WERE SAYING

THEY WERE JUST SAYING SOMETHING

BUT THEY DID NOT KNOW WHAT THEY WERE SAYING

NOISE

JUST NOISE

A LOT OF NOISE

AND THEN IT WAS OVER

BUT WHY THE HEADACHE

AND INSOMNIA?

WHY DID THAT LAST FOR SO LONG?

WHY THE HEADACHE, THE NAUSEA, THE PAIN

KEPT BURNING IN MY BRAIN?

BECAUSE I FELT FOR THE MUTILATION OF THE WORDS

BECAUSE I FELT THE MURDER OF THE WORDS

BECAUSE I FELT THE DEMISE OF THE WRITTEN WORD

MADE INTO A DEMISE BY THE BAD SPEAKER CALLED, "AN ACTOR"

SHAME ON THE ACTOR

SHAME ON THE ACTOR

SHAME ON THE ACTOR

WHO MURDERED WORDS

WHO MADE THE WORD BLEED

WHO STABBED THE WORDS

THE WORDS BEGGED TO BE HEARD

THE WORDS BEGGED AND BEGGED AND BEGGED

BUT THE ACTOR SUFFOCATED IT

THE ACTOR SWALLOWED IT UP

THE ACTOR CHOKED ON IT

THE ACTOR SPIT IT OUT

THE ACTOR WAS NOT REALLY AN ACTOR

AND THE WRITER OF THOSE WORDS?

THE WRITER OF THOSE WORDS WAS A POET

THE SORROW OF THE DEATH OF HIS WORDS KILLED THE AUTHOR

THE AUTHOR IS NOW DEAD

HIS WORDS ARE STILL NOT BEING HEARD

THE POET IS NOT NEEDED

ITS A MARKET OF NOISE

NOISE AND NOISE AND NOISE

THEN YOU GO TO A NOISY RESTAURANT

AND EAT AND EAT AND EAT

WITH THE MONEY YOU STOLE FROM THE POET

THE POET WHO DIED OF SORROW

HIS WORDS WERE TOO PRECIOUS FOR AN ORDINARY EAR

AND THERE WERE ONE BILLION ORDINARY EARS

HIS WORDS WERE TOO PRECIOUS FOR ORDINARY MOUTHS

AND THERE WERE BILLIONS OF ORDINARY MOUTHS UTTERING THOSE PRECIOUS WORDS.

THE POET NEVER HEARD HIS WORDS SPOKEN 

WITH A RIGHT KIND OF FEELING

OR WITH ANY KIND OF FEELING

WORDS HAD NO MEANING  FOR THE ACTOR

THE ACTOR WAS NOT A POET

AND HE WAS A BAD ACTOR

SO HE COULDN'T BECOME A POET

NOT EVEN FOR A SHORT WHILE

NOT EVEN FOR A SHORT WHILE ON STAGE

HE WAS NEVER A POET IN HIS REAL LIFE

HE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND POETRY

AND HE WAS SUPPOSED TO RECITE POETRY

THAT WAS A MISTAKE

A BIG MISTAKE ON THE PART 

OF WHOEVER HIRED HIM

IT WAS NOT HIS FAULT

HE WAS NEITHER A POET

NOR AN ACTOR

HE WAS HIRED FOR BOTH

THE ROLE OF THE ACTOR

AND THE ROLE OF THE POET

THE CASTING DIRECTOR SHOULD BE FIRED

THE DIRECTOR SHOULD BE FIRED

ACTOR SHOULD BE FIRED

PRODUCER SHOULD BE FIRED

FOR NOT PAYING

THUS FORCING THE POET TO HIRE NON POETS

THEY ALL SHOULD BE BANNED FROM  THE STAGE

THEY ALL SHOULD BE BANNED FROM RECITING POETRY

BANNED FOR LIFE

THE POET DIED OF THE SORROW

SORROW OF WATCHING THE DEATH OF HIS PLAY

DEATH OF HIS PLAY AND ITS POETRY

AND THAT'S ALL HE HAD

JUST THE POETRY

HE DIDN'T HAVE A SET

HE DIDN'T HAVE SPECIAL EFFECTS

HE DIDN'T HAVE MUSIC,

MUSIC WAS IN HIS POETRY

HIS POETRY WAS KILLED

THAN THE POET DIED

THE POET DIED OF SORROW...

HIS WORDS WERE NEVER HEARD...

SHE, A FRIEND?

She wants to hinder her friend's success
She didn't want the critic to come
She brings flowers and dine her out when she get rotton notices
It gives her,"FEAR" some kind of satisfaction
Because she doesn't want her friend to get ahead.
Deep down she must compete with her

The writer shouldn't tell anyone anything
Don't write anything to anyone
Don't have time for anyone
She should be with herself instead of waiting for someone
That someone is not going to do it for her
Because that someone doesn't like her
Or is competing with her

Be shrewed
Be fearless

'Are you serious?"
All the time
This sentence is being uttered by everyone
Of course she is serious
She is serious now
It annoys her to limits
This fake and Simplistic sentence

Sense of importance
By themselves
Have a lot of sense of Importance
A sense of an acknowledgement from the world is important
But the sense of importance about themselves  should be of utmost importance
Desperate for the payoff of contemporary age
Not going to happen
Fuel your drive
Fuel your determination
Because the writer's life in NY has been difficult
In many ways
In lots of ways
Friends?
Where are they?
It's just the vicious competition between so called, "friends."

WHITE SNOW OF EUROPE

Sounds so romantic

Doesn't it?

But the birds have disappeared

Where did they go?

In hiding perhaps

And took their songs with them

Who is going to listen to them?

It's too cold and chaotic...

But Chaos can't be romantic

And the birds and their songs are pretty romantic

The birds are always searching for other songs and other birds

And the snow keeps them away from each other

The snow turns into something called, "slush."

Have you ever heard of it?

And the sleet?

And the motorist's stuck in traffic for days

"Holiday traffic." it's called

Its un-believable how much tension and disturbances

The good things bring...

People stuck in tunnels for twenty four hours...

Without food, water and air...

The claustrophobia and the terror

Of others all stuck together...Strangers, children. old people...

People should never leave their homes

Especially near holidays

People are not birds

That they can just fly away...

And be free...

Singing happy and sad songs of love and separation

No they are not birds...

They are human

And the human beings are stuck...

Stuck and stuck...

Stuck in traffic, stuck in snow, stuck in the tunnel...

Stuck in life...

Humans are stuck with their choices, good and bad...

Just to have fun on a holiday, they can end up in a tunnel...

Can some one be blamed for it?

God? Weather? Rain? Snow? Mud? Or the might leaders?

Holidays perhaps

Yes, we should all blame the holidays

And our search for fun...

Just the anticipation of the fun one was going to have on holidays...

For the sake of fun, just for the sake of fun...

Now we sing sad songs of remorse and unhappiness...

We wish we never made those choices, the choices to have fun...

We would all be sitting in our own homes next to the fire drinking coco...

Well some of us...Perhaps...some of us who had fire places and left them for the white snow

of Europe...

THE SNOW IS FALLING

The snow is falling

And falling again

All things are white and beautiful

Wait till it melts

Than all will be sleet and slush

And ugly

All beautiful things turn into ugliness

Snow is like that

Pure, fluffy, white, cold,

And will turn into ugliness soon

So lets enjoy it till its gorgeous

And worry about the falling and slipping and breaking bones later

Only in the West

Only in the West

The snow falls

And people break their bones

In the East

Not the snow

But people from the West

Come to the East

And break their bones.

Under the pretension of democracy

I would rather have the snow falling...

Democracy can wait

I won't mind if my bones are broken

 In the snow which is falling

And falling again

The snow is falling again...

MAZDOORI/SUFFERING 

Mazdoori would be fine

If it came with lifting of bricks or heavy metal

But mazdoori has come with lifting the burdens with the utmost boredom

I mean boredom of every day, day by day, every minute, minute by minute

Wasn't this supposed to be an exciting adventure?

You can go to the theater and make it exciting

Change the formate of mazdoori(burdens)

Make it exciting, stimulating with the buzz of ooh and ahhhhhhhhh

Who is preventing you?

Go stand outside BAM and ask for a ticket to see Cate Blanchett

You can pay $2000

Not much to see Cate

That's exciting

That's not mazdoori

Now if you had that kind of cash you won't be talking about mazdoori(burdens) and boredom

You would be getting dressed, wearing your heels...

Heels?

Do I have heels?

Yes, I do

In the closet

I saved them for Cate...

To see Cate Blanchett You have to wear heels

Call a cab and go to BAM and offer two thousand dollars for a ticket to see

Blanchett ...

You will instantly become Important and some one extremely theatrical

and successful.

'She is the one who paid $2000 to see Cate"

People will point at you admiringly

"Who? Who? Who?"

"She...She...She"

The all others, other unimportant people who only paid $80 will disappear

Vanish in thin air...

That day won't be the day of burden for you...

It would be a marvelous day

To see Cate Blanchett loosing her mind in, "Street car named desire."

and you loosing your money

But its not a loss

It is to sustain life in a healthy, lovely, exciting way

Than the burden of Mazdoori in a cold, rainy, foggy, foreign land

Will turn into a life well lived with Glamour and theater and Cate...

You can't come here and not have those dollars to see Cate

And still expect to live a life like the others who live in this town...

Otherwise to be here is nothing but gloom and doom and boredom and Mazdoori

Oh! heavens lift this Mazdoori off of my shoulders and let me get a ticket to see

Cate suffer on stage for three hours like Tennessee Suffered for twenty years

when all the mighty god's of theater cursed him and shunned him and reduced him to

a crying puppy...Accusing him of loosing all his power and poetry...

Wasn't he the author of the play in which Cate is suffering on stage?

and people are willing to pay $2000?

Yes, he was the author, Tennessee Williams...

Who died with the expectation of getting one more "Rave Review."

From the mighty critic but died with grief and sorrow of rejection in later years

He must be turning in his grave... suddenly amazed...

"Oh! I am the author of this damaged pain and poetry, Oh! I am the one."

Yes, he is the one... recognize his words and him...

I have a photograph of him and myself together... swear I do...

People don't believe me

But I met him

Not only met him

But I have a photo taken sitting next to him

With my arm around his shoulder...

"How could she? People gossip

"How could she? This one, this woman of color, a foreigner..."

Yes, this foreigner, the woman of color have a

 Photograph with the mighty Tennessee Williams

The poet above all poets.

But I can't go and see Cate at BAM because 

I don't have the dollars and that's my

Mazdoori(Burden of the day and of every day) I'ts the dollar silly, 

The dollar...

Will free you from anxiety, boredom, loneliness and of nothingness...

And will take you to Cate when she loses her mind

But that's just fiction...

I have mazdoori every day

I am also a poet

I learned all the poetry from Tennessee Williams.

That's my reward

God is fair afterall.

THE BLIND LEADING THE BLIND

Blind leading the blind is better than

the idiot giving you ideas and advice

But why do you need any ideas anyway

Your own head is so crowded with so many un-finished and brand

new ideas ...

Its like a construction site

Bricks, cement, paint, fiber glass, sheet rock, wood, nails

All dangerous stuff lying around

Throw them out

Throw out what?

All that rubbish in your head

Its not rubbish, its ideas

All success is based on those ideas lying around

Not your success honey...

You threw out the idea of success long time ago

And kept the rubbish safe in your head crowding

All other clean ideas

Those are not clean ideas

Those are wasted ideas resting in the corners of the mind which

Was once a great mind

Mind wasted and now asking for help from the other wasted minds

What are you seeking?

Why are you seeking?

Who said that I am seeking?

I am blind in the head and in the eyes

The blind don't seek ideas

They seek someone's hand to guide them

But you are blind seeking the hand of another blind person

Because I don't have any one with eyes...

That's a tragedy

Yes

But its your own tragedy

You can't be so calm about it

So what should I do ?

Cry

What will that do?

It will make people know that you have no one

What will people do?

Nothing

Why should I cry then?

You have a point there

Let the blind lead you

At least you have some one holding your hand.

AND

And he said, 

"Where were you yesterday?

 And where are you going today?"

And he was a total stranger 

And she has never met him before

She fell in love with him

And he asked her every day

"Where are you going?"

"What are you doing?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why are you not doing that?"

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Where?"

"Where?"

"Where?"

Became her life.

She loved it

Because she was looking for a control freak

And he was the one

They lived happily ever after...

AND NOW WHAT MORE IS COMING?

I thought there will be a break from the hell of November

The most disturbing and dreary month

Exhaustion and depressions and crashes and loss

And what will be accomplished with this new endeavor?

Nothing

Nothing will be accomplished

That's what I am after

My songs, my birds are of nothing

They are nothing, they sing of nothingness

They need to escape

They need to run away

Away from you and me

They have been trapped

We have the lock

We have the key

We are so cruel

And cruel is us

How come?

How come we became the monsters?

 and we put the birds in prison ?

The birds are in prison because we need company

Because we are so angry that we can't escape from being monsters

Monster human beings we think, 

It's a compliment

Monster

God created us, the stupid human being, the angry human being

The miserable human being

And we created the monster

We incorporated the monster in us

Now we are so proud and our

Songs are our prisoners for life...

Its been so long

So, so long

What happened?

Got neglected

All the birds were neglected

And their nests as well

Life is an Un-ending song

Song of pain

Never breaking thread

Of sorrow

And despair

I am so disappointed in Poetry

Of sorrow

Sorrow of the birds

And sorrow of human beings

Did I say human beings?

Human are beasts and beasts are human now

To call for human beings

One has to shout, "hey, beasts."

And they will answer

They will recognize their Identity

Pure and brutal and Criminal and murderer

My poor birds

The flying creatures got involved with the so called,"Humans."

And got violated, abused, brutalized and injured

 To be Injured,

Anywhere...

That's the tragedy of immense consequences

Who will forgive you for being so weak?

Be strong, very strong especially as a stranger

You can't be hurt

Can't be wounded

Can't be hit

Can't be abused

Be away from the beast

The beasts do evil to the other beasts called human

An insult to the creator

I wonder why did he create the little Infant

 And than did nothing to him when he became

a beast?

My birds have been waiting

Hungry

Thirsty

Lonely

Very lonely

In a narrow room full of dust

Full of dirty clothes

Full of ugly pots and pans

Wondering who the hell lives here ?

And why?

 Doesn't the one who lives here not throw

The shit out?

Shit will stay when all beasts will be dead

But they still don't want it to be thrown away 

They like the smell of it

They came from shit and rolled around in shit

And then died in shit

Poor birds

Flew from so far away for the shitty adventure

Give them a break

Get them out of the dark cage

Send them back

Where?

Home

They lost their home

Send them back some where

But out of here...

Here they will choke to death

Suffocate

Die of sorrow

Over the demise of the man who once loved birds

and their songs

And eventually allowed them

To rot in a modern city

Full of glamour and lights

But no light for them

No glamour for them

Just a dark

Lonely

Narrow

Dusty

Airless room

What did they do to you to deserve this?

Did they hurt you ?

Cursed you?

Beat you up?

Why did you take revenge of your life's failure on birds?

The precious birds

The delicate birds

The colorful birds

The chirping birds

The melodious birds

The happy birds

The singing birds...

FAILURE, FAILURE, FAILURE

Failure why don't you just go away?

Bothering me so much every day

I never heard your name before i arrived here

How come you didn't accompany me before?

I was born without you and your influence

How come you accompanied me across the sea?

I need to be alone, I am a loner, why don't you understand?

Need no company of any one especially you

There was a time when i used to miss people, 

friends, companions, relatives

But instead you sneaked in

and you sneaked in...

Wasn't looking for you...

Never.

But you were waiting for me at the end of the boat ride

But I didn't take a boat after all

I arrived by a plane like a successful traveller

and you heard about the arrival and ran from the docks to the airport

to receive me the  very first day...

and you have never left me since then...

You and you alone have been the most constant companion 

Like a bad marriage 

bothering me, critical and un-approving

of whatever I try to accomplish...

" failure, failure. failure.

" you whisper in my exhausted ears

all day and all night

even in my sleep

you wake me up so many times

Need a thousand sleeping pills

Why were you waiting for me at the airport?

In this city no one waits for any one

No one waits for any one anywhere now...

Don't you have anything else to do?

Why don't you go after the high achievers and go getters?

Wouldn't  you look better being attached to some glittery monument?

I want to be alone

How many times I have begged you to understand that

I am happy to be alone with myself...

I don't need you to tell me what you repeat every second

Now I am capable of telling myself a thing or two...

So why don't you just go away

Go back to the airport

International arrival

Idiots arrive every day

Go whisper in their ears your precious, ominous words

I didn't take you seriously first

But you were so persistent

See What persistence can do...

Perhaps I should learn something from you

Your persistence...

"Persistence of failure."

Should be the title of my new poem...

I see the flickering smiles of satisfaction and happiness

on the faces of my so called, "Friends."

My,"friends." always wanted me to fail

They were perhaps your relatives

At least you made them happy...

Now they can go ahead, get ahead, and,"make it"

But good luck to you and all your relatives...

But if you now leave me

I promise I will keep your memory alive

And will always write poems of, "Failure."

I am not American

I don't have to have ,"positive attitude." 24 hours of the day...

I came from ancient lands where people tell each other

stories of war and ruin and starvation and oppression and occupation

They all sit together in a circle around the fire out doors in a bombed out court yard

wrapped in Pashmina Shawls which the occupier wants to steal.

Occupier is always from the colder lands

Needs Pashmina for sure to keep him warm in his snowy country...

But those people surrounded by the ruins of their lands

smoking hooka pipes never mentioned the word, "Failure."

I notice that now...

No mention of failure at all.

I wonder why not ?

They are the ones who have failed miserably....

But the, word, "FAILURE." I only heard in the successful lands...

Success was everywhere in the civilized, rich, democratic lands...

 but the failure kept whispering in my ears...

,'Failure..."fail...ure"...fa..il..ur..e."

DISAPPOINTMENT

Again?

Yes

Again?

Yes.

Why?

Because it's the same thing of the weak will and lack of determination

But its been better lately

A little bit better

So?

So what?

Why disappointment?

Time is running out

Time has been wasted

The dread

Of What ?

Dread of dread

That's an old story

Old stories keep repeating itself

Not good

Do the work

And?

The dread will go away

The dread will never go away

Don't say that

You are up

And?

Up and about

About what?

Whatever you want it to be

I don't know

Satisfaction is not the key

Key to what?

Your poetry

Who is a poet?

The one who writes poems

Do I write poems?

I don't know...I don't know you

You are always giving me advice though

Strangers can give advice too

How would they know what advice to give?

They know

How do they know?

They know...You are notorious

Oh! good

You like that?

Yes, i always wanted to be notorious

Notorious is not bad

It's bad enough

You should be very bad to be really bad

What do I have to do?

Be hated

Hated?

Yes,

By whom ?

The world...the whole wide world

That's disappointing

You should be thrilled

Why?

That's when you are important

When?

When the world hate you

I don't know the world that well,

 Get hated...

Get used to it

And what about disappointment?

Give another word to it...Call it,"Dissatisfaction." 

All the geniuses were dissatisfied

that's why they created so much..

.Dissatisfaction is the key to creativity not disappointment...

Disappointment sounds depressing and depressing thoughts are un-fashionable.

..Creativity has a step sister and that is called, 

The muse of being never satisfied in a good, poetic way."

WHAT A MOMENT?

And I saw it

The un-balanced behavior

One more time

It raised its head like a snake

One more time

I debated

Whether to leave or to stay

The same moment of indecision

And the fear of an un-known politeness

To tolerate the un-controlled

But why is that ?

That had been dissected, analysed, searched

Too much grace...

That's it...

It's that moment of grace for your own self

Which keeps you cemented in the same spot

Instead of making a scene

But maybe now the time has come to make a scene

And then walk away...

Time in itself has been giving you a chance

But you don't take it

Keep the grace only for your own self

For the rest please be un-graceful just for a moment

Just for one brief moment only

And then none of those moments will repeat itself

not with the same person at least

Be guarded to quickly leave that un-pleasant moment 

Without creating any scene

That's the true test of grace

But leave you will

The moment and the one who created it

Behind you.

I missed you

My birds

Did you sing for me?

Or about me?

Did you wonder what happened to me?

Did you fly away to find me?

Now I am here with you again

Let's sing together

The songs of joy

Did I say Joy?

Well! why not?

Lament can be part of it too

All songs are lovely

INTO THE SAME FEELING LEFT BEHIND

Was it left behind?

What?

The feeling

Don't know

Keep coming back

Maybe its a good thing

Don't shun what comes to you

Especially a ,"Feeling."

Its a good thing, a thing called,"Feeling."

It will be helpful one day

To remember what might have been lost

The birds on the highway

The birds on the shore

The swans dancing on the shining surfaces

 of the lakes in Copenhagen.

There are birds in Copenhagen?

Some drifted up there

It's cold there

The birds went to the colder climates

Why?

Ask them

Why?

There was too much heat

Where?

Where ever they were born

Born?

Yes

The birds were born?

Every living breathing is born

And?

And what?

What will happen to them?

They will die like all other living and breathing things

They have a life in them and the life goes out

Like a candle light?

Like a candle light...

NO TALKING, NO LISTENING.

Accomplish something without talking

No talking

Never talking

Why talking ?

Not part of accomplishment

Listening?

Listening important

To your instinct

Yours and yours alone

Don't waver from the task at hand

Don't talk about it

To not talk

Is to be alone

Be alone

Before the task

Be quiet before the task

Concentrate

Talk to no one

be with no one

After?

Yes, if need be

Yes, but there is no need

Only strangers

Exchange a few words

Then go home

The word, "Home" is a problem

Exchange a few words and than go 

where ever you sleep

The place where your bed is, is your,"home"

The bed? my bed? not my bed

Ok, which ever bed you sleep in

Where-ever that bed is, is your,"home"

That is not my bed, that is not my home

Ok, a few words with strangers 

and go back where some one's bed is

The bed the one you sleep in

A few words with strangers

 and go back where-ever that ,"Home" is

The home where the bed is

The bed in which you sleep

Clear?

Clear

Ok, then...

No talking and no listening for you

You need to accomplish things alone

That is in case you do want to accomplish anything

Otherwise you can talk and listen to any one

And waste away like always

To make a new life for yourself you have to be alone

No people for you

You have failed people and people have failed you

No people before the task

No people after the task

No people, I said

A few words of." hi, hi, hi, hi,"

how are you?" Is enough

No anguish is to be discussed

The people are tigers 

and your anguish is the feed .

They need to eat you up alive

Blood and flesh and bones and all

You will bleed to death

 to open up to people

Don't bleed to death here

Not your country

Not your people

You flew away

The nest is empty

The nest is barren

The nest is lost

Gone...Gone...

Came too far

The flight to the un-known exotic places was ok...

But there was no exotic place except your own nest

The nest you left behind

You should have turned around and flown back

Back?

The journey was meant to be forward

But there was no forward in that journey

The forward roads were all blocked

The road blocks

Ever heard of it?

But I wasn't on the road

I was up in the sky

There were sky blocks

Never heard of it

The sky blocked

Then why couldn't you move forward?

Trouble with the wings

Wings?

Wings broken

When did you notice?

On the top of the river Indus

You crossed the Caspian sea?

Yes, unharmed

Then?

Then the wings broke

What happened to the other birds, your companions?

I don't know

You don't know

No

I thought you left together

We did

Than what happened?

Scattered away, drifted apart

Didn't you contact them?

Lost the song

Lost the song? 

What are you without the song? 

Arn't you a singing bird?

I was. I lost the song and the wings

You should have never left

Should have never left

Should have never left

Now be quiet and stay alone

Your companions are all gone

 a different direction

Don't talk to any other people

They are not your companions

Just chirp a bit, a formal little chirp 

with a total starnger and go home

I lost my home...

The wings, the song and the home...

You lost everything

Can't you sing at all?

No

Not even a sad song? 

A sad lament?

I sing without a sound

I sing the lament all night...

All day I look for my song, 

the original song

The song i lost...

NO NO NO NONONOOOOOOOOOO

No long metaphorical monologues

No long conversations

No spending moments

No sparing moments

No waiting

No,no waiting

NONONONONONOOOOOOOOO

For no body

No

No waiting

No trusting

No intimacy

No openness

keep thoughts to self

Keep ideas to self

Keep hurt to self

Keep everything to self

Keep time to self

No more trusting any body

No trust

No

NONONONONOOOOOOOOOO

Stay away from the monster

Monster will destroy you

Don't whisper thoughts,

 secrets,

 love,

 affection,

 Ideas

 plans to the monster

Monster will destroy you

No monster consultant

No monster helper

No monster friend

No

No friend

NO

NONONONONOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Don't be sad

Be busy

With your self

Let self occupy you and your time

Treat self nice

Take  your self to the cinema

Take self to the theater

Take self on a holiday

Take self to the beach

Take your self walking

Talk to your self

Walk with  your self

Laugh with your self

No more talking to no body

No more melancholy monologue of despair

No more melancholy monologues 

to your uncles and aunts 

and brothers and sisters 

and mother and father 

You see them around?

No

So who are you writing  to? 

these un-ending monologues about discrimination 

and injustice 

and hurt 

and unfairness 

and other awful feelings?

Who are you writing to if your loved ones do not exist?

Who are you writing to or pouring your heart out to?

No one is here,

No one exists,

 no one is listening to what you are saying

Who are you saying for?

Who are you writing to?

No one is here

No, no one

No

NONONONONOOOOOOOOOOOOO

GET OUT

Get out of all the,

 unbelievable truths

At once

How do you know that its not the truth though?

The feeling...Just go for the feeling,

 the gut feeling

yes, that's it

The gut sends you a message

And that is the truth you are seeking

There is no other truth

No other process of knowing

Do what your heart tells you

Don't do anything 

with the slightest possible doubt

That is your guide

You are alone?

Yes

You have no consultant?

Not a real consultant...

Some time, something tells you to do things

Yes

Listen to that,"Something."

Something tells you not to do something?

Yes

Listen to that,"Something."

That,"Something." 

is your true friend, 

your mother, 

your father,

 your sister,

 your brother,

That,"something" is your consultant,

 your adviser,

 your lawyer, 

your therapist.

If you need to do something?

Ask your adviser,

 lawyer,

 therapist,

 consultant,

 partner,

 sweetheart,

 friend, 

sister,

 lover, 

husband,

 wife...

You have so much to be thankful for

You have so much support

You have so much help

People love you

Your gut feeling is your people

Your gut feeling is always there

Guiding you, advising you,

 trying to tell you something...

Listen to it

Listen to the warnings...

Get out of the circle of all other advisers.

Fire them today

All of them

All of them

You have your gut feelings

That's a gift

You are blessed.

Be grateful

SONGS OF THE MOTHER

SONGS OF THE FATHER

Mother sang when her children,(birds left her)

Father sang when his children,(birds left him)

They all sang songs for the rest of their lives from distant places 

because now the oceans were between them,

 the sea was between them,

 the red sea and the Indian Ocean

 and the Caspian sea...

The birds flew and separated themselves from pure and eternal love

 In search of love 

And could never see their loved ones again

 Because they got lost on the way, 

They struggled,

 They survived,

 They got wounded,

 They got exhausted,

 They lost their way,

 They never united again...

The birds wanted to fly back 

But their wings were now broken 

And their mother and father lied down and cried,

 lied down and died,

ONCE UPON A TIME

Once upon a time a poet was seen 

wandering around a heath

He had nothing but a note book and a pencil in his hand

There was no one else there but him.

No sound, no noise, no whisper...

He walked Contemplating philosophical thoughts of mortality,

 Birth,

 Nothingness,

 Cunning,

 The meaning of things

, Nothingness again,

 Death.

Than all of a sudden,

 appeared a flock of colorful birds chirping,

 chirping...

Flying and chirping

Singing ghazals, melodious ancient songs.

Though he didn't speak their language

 He was fascinated by the birds

 And understood their songs

He quickly in a furious and ferocious hurry

 Started to jot down their songs in the note book

Fearing they will fly away 

As fast and as suddenly as they came...

These are the lyrics the birds sang 

 Fom the dead poet's notebook.

SAVE FACE

So much cunningness goes into,

How to save face?

Then with great calculation and effort they save face

And are so happy that no one got what they were implying

And they got away by insulting some,

 By hurting some, 

By being evil

By being amoral,

 By being brutal, 

By being racists....

They smile over a glass of wine after the conference

They are thrilled that their schemes and cunningness worked...

But it didn't work actually

They will go home and see their faces in the mirror everyday.

They couldn't save their faces from themselves

And that is the reward of the one discriminated against.

It's a crime to hurt an innocent person

The crime shows itself on the face when seen through the mirror...

They have to look at themselves for the rest of their lives.

Revenge has been taken...

How far ahead are you going to go with your arrogance ?

Not far honey, not very far...

Only as far as your face

How far are you going to go with your cunningness ?

Not far sweetheart, not very far

Only as far as your face

Cunningness and amorality doesn't travel far...

It's on your face...

Who are you saving your face from ?

DO NOT

From now on

They have left the old house

From now on you don't know their new address

From now on, you don't have any contact with them

With all of them...

G and F and P and S

And all of that SA

No more knowing of them

No more contact with them of any kind

No situation  would involves them

They have left the old house without a forwarding address

No more conversations

No more phone bills

No more time wasted

That's the most crucial

Time

And its wastage

Let people go to the moon

Let them get to the highest top

Let them live in a mansion

Let them not have your number

That's the best thing which has ever happened to you

Come to think of it

What did they ever do for you ?

Nothing actually...

Actually a big nothing...

Thank heaven's...

Their claws got out of you

What a relief finally

The fever broke

Finally...

They all left the old house

No more contact with the poisonous elements

Why would you ?

Death wish is it ?

Things happen on their own

Ugliness reveals itself in many forms

Thank God they moved

Thank God they didn't leave their number

They have gone to the moon

They have achieved heights of all heights

They are all un-reachable.

Thank heavens the fever is broken at last.

SILENCE

That would be the best

Silence.

To be silent would be more powerful than shouting

Winner is always silent

And the loser ?

Shouts and shouts and then is silent eventually

That's what they want

They want you to be silent

One can silently drop the matter once and for all

Get them all out of your life

That's far better than fighting and shouting

Some of the shouting has ,"Loser' stamp on it...

Let people play the dirty game

Let not yourself be part of that

You, who always was upfront

Doesn't need to play any dirty little game

Winner eventually looses also

Especially that kind of a winner

Silence strengthen belief and dedication

Remember prayer is mostly silent

And is the source of solace

The guilty one's are also silent

But their silence is not of a prayer but of guilt

They know, that they are not good

And that's their punishment

They try and try again to save face

But from whom ?

They can't save face from themselves...

They see themselves when they look at the mirror

They see their own face, the face they were trying to save...

They see that face every day in the mirror

Only they know what's in their vicious hearts

What's the point of trying to know, what's what?

And why would you want to know any way?

There is nothing there but malice, hate, jealousy,

They are consumed with jealousy

They don't have the gift...

Silence is not submission

Silence is not victimhood

Silence is the knowledge

Silence is knowing of the truth

Silence is thanks to him who bestowed

 that wonderful gift upon you

No, they didn't get the gift

That's why they can't have

 the truth as their companion.

Embrace the silence and be 

thankful every moment for being honest

Your reward is in that very honesty

 which is everlasting...

Truth always comes out of the mouths 

which are desperately trying to hide it...

Just be silent and observe quietly

WONDERFUL

It was so wonderful 

not to be a part of the, shit

It smelled so much

In the hallway, in the discussion rooms, 

in the auditorium

With their pseudo intellectual

 heavy weight words such as, diaspora

"Diaspora, miaspora, Shiaspora, 

Giaspora, Neeaspora, Fuckaspora,

Pora, pora, pora...in your rear end...

Oh! their rear end is already

 so stuffed with bullshitaspora...

Oh! how they are smelling

Wonderful for their nostrilaspora...

Congratulations all of you asskisserporas

 and ass lickerporas

and phonyporas and baloneyporas

 and intellectual fiasporas and academic biasporas....

It's the ass kissing society.

DRAMA OF DECEIT

What a word!

"Drama."

Perfect in all its forms

No one can argue with the hype

 and the falsehood of it

Drama on stage and drama off stage

People are dying to be on stage

They can't though

So they create a play in their heads

and then they live in their own heads

expecting others to believe in their dramatic deceit

But the deceit of their drama 

can only be enjoyed by some

I am not one of those some.

She is laughing

He is laughing

They are all laughing

They are all part of the deceit

and they are not very good dramatists

Talent is something else...

Not bestowed upon everyone

Oh! how they hate...

They hate talent...

They hate God

EXCLUSION

"Because of political and economic reasons

exclusion took place."

He said

"The outside forces prevented me to include you."

He said

'The referee took you out of the final draft."

He said

"Doesn't go with the rest of the work."

He said

He was lying

No one took you out

He never put you in

He was lying

There was no outside force

He himself was the outside force

He was lying...

He put the whole blame on the outside force

He was the outside force

He was lying

He is a lier...

Be cautious...of him....

"He is not a lier."

She said

"It was a Scandal."

She said

'Who took you out then?"

She said

'He took you Out."

She said

"Which who?"

"The other who."

She said

"Who was he?"

"The other who."

She said

"There were two

"Who?"

 Who took you out"

She said

"There were anonymous ,

who took you out?

She said

"So we will never know

 "who took you out?"

"No, we will never know.

 The one's who took you out

 are, and will be anonymous."

She said

''Satisfied?"

He said

"Satisfied?"

She said.

No,

Never satisfied by your lies.

STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS?

You call that stream of consciousness ?

The killing of girls at a gym?

And throats being cut?

That's the result of a consciousness

 as consciousness can get

and birds just chirp and sing

Birds don't kill

"Alright, alright,

its just the title.

"Stream of consciousness of singing birds."

But you have to justify everything 

to a producer who will produce the play...

"Which play ? 

 I don't have a play.

 "Who said that I have a play ?"

Why do you want it to be produced ?

"Because all is just the vision

 and the vision is all,

 produced or not produced."

Who are you ?

and where do you come from ?

"Don't humiliate yourself.

 You won't be able to pronounce 

the name of a an exotic heap of mud

and daffodils called, "NARGIS."

 Go ahead, try."

Who cares...

We are busy, 

So much to do, 

So much to accomplish

"I want to accomplish nothing. 

 I want to drift away to the heap of,"Nargis.

" I want to fly away

To sing,"GHAZALS."

 Which no one will understand.

 That's it...

I want to do what no one can,

Understand. 

 My song must be sung only by me.

No one but me,

 its my song...

I will sing it

 and you won't ever understand it.

The victory comes in many shades and tunes,

The tune of the, "GHAZAL."

 You will never understand."

THROAT CUTTER

Thank god he was not

the one who cut people's throats

He was just a mad man

Mad men do things for no reason

They just come in and start shooting

Shooting everything across the room

Chairs, tables, computers, 

other machines, human beings

They are just mad, mad, mad Western men

The one who cut throats

 is not a mad man

He is considered a muslim Islamist 

doing it for a cause

The, religion, they say

Why should it be for the cause of a religion ?

Why can't that bird be mad ?

"No, he is not mad, 

he is muslim."

They say, the experts

"What's the opinion of the 

experts on the gym killer?

"A mad man for sure." 

 'His girl friend left him." 

"Simply mad"

Why can't the muslim killer be mad ?

Oh! no...no...no..no

"They do it for their religion, Islam

" They want to take over the West.

" "They are sick with a cause."

"And the gym killer?"

"A mad man."

"A lonely man." 

 "Had a bad childhood."

 "His father abused him."

'And the muslim killer ?"

'That's a different story entirely."

 'They are religious fanatics."

 "They cut throats for a cause."

"Our gym killer had a bad childhood."

INSIDE OF AN INSIDE

Its gotten inside

Deep into the folds and layers of consciousness

And it promises to go even deeper

Who says it's quitting?

Not a quitter at all

not like all of you

Incomplete/abominable/people

Always leaving things undone

Shame of the young and ambitious

Cowering under the slightest pressures

which are all challenges for the healthy

Who is healthy amongst you though?

not me, 

count me out

 gave you the permission

What else do you want?

 first made me sick.

 now pouncing on me to get better

You are the illness deep within 

when will you leave?

Get out from the inside of the torturous grooves

 and curves of the psyche of the disturbed

Whom you always abused in the past, present, future

You and your determination is sickening 

awful for the tender hearted 

what would you know about tenderness?

you coiling and recoiling snakes 

Travel alongside the healing ointments 

so scarce 

even the fields of health are lacking the medicine 

the herb to sooth the nerves you enraged 

with commentary of your ill conceived 

and ill spoken/hurtful/unrefined/uneducated/

vulgar words. 

what do you know of

a sensitive heart?

 No, not you/never you/never you/

 you are not the granddaughter of the poet

not your uncle/not your father/not your womb/no/not yours.

Speaking ill of the one's who fed you 

bathed you clothed you

/loved you/you monsters of the world

 getting deep into my psyche/ruining my aesthetic/

for the moment/and for all moments of the days and nights/

why won't you disappear?

 and never come back?

 But you are not going to go anywhere except crawl under my skin 

like the dirty, smelly crab with claws of thorns 

bleeding my ever broken sad heart.

"Oh! you fool of a lonely heart 

Why did you choose the land so far away from your ancestor's land ? 

Why did you choose the culture 

Where they say what they don't mean . 

Why did you choose a language which is not yours? 

Why did you choose the insensitivity of the natives? 

Why don't you understand that they do mean what they say ? 

They need to insult/hurt/upset/infuriate/disturb

all who look different than them just for the heck of it 

just for the sake of having fun 

just for you to go home upset 

and not achieve anything but to think

all night how awful they were 

and what awful things they were willing to say to you 

and call themselves your friends.

Is that the difference between you and them 

that they can say it and you just absorb it? 

and why don't you say nasty things back?

 Don't sleep with those things,

you won't be able to sleep anyway 

the breeze is foreign/the bed is foreign/the language is foreign,

the friends are foreign/the culture is foreign.

"You don't understand."

 they say that often/haven't you heard it often? 

They say it often/you must have heard it often?

"Oh! you are too sensitive." 

they say after they insult you often. 

You are the foreigner who never understood the insult,

or did, but never spoke up 

Speak up even if you are an immigrant 

you are a long time immigrant now 

now you can speak up 

instead of adding layers to the depth of your,

immigrant/soul/not healthy/not healthy at all, 

but who says that the psyche of a lone immigrant is healthy?

"You don't understand." 

"Oh! it was a joke." 

"I was just kidding."

 "You don't understand."

"Don't be so sensitive."

 "You are a foreigner/immigrant after all/you don't understand."

BIRCH TREES

Birch trees

Lilac trees

I had a lilac tree in the garden

I had a garden

Now the lilac tree is being bombed

The lilac tree was a terrorist.

I am so far away from the lilac tree

But the tree is no more...

It had been bombed...

FRIGHTENED 

He became frightened of everything

Planes

Subways

Roads

Snow

Staircase

Became frightened of illness

Illness will come eventually

But he became frightened before hand

He was getting old

But at the age 25 he said, "Its too late." "Its all over, all over."

OH!COME ON

Where have you been?

I have been so busy

Oh! come on

What have you been doing lately ?

So busy

Oh! come on

Are you going to the theater tonight?

Theater bores me

Oh! come on

What are you going to do tonight?

Stay home

Oh! come on

What did you do over the weekend ?

Stayed home

Oh! come on

What's the matter with you ?

Nothing

Oh! come on

Lets go for a walk

I am tired

Oh! come on

You have become a bore

Oh! come on .

 Enough of your,

"Come on."

Enough already...

TO HAVE OR NOT TO HAVE?

To have conscience for the other 

or to be totally narcissistic?

That's the question

What will make you successful ?

That's the question

PRIVATE PARTY

Now the sun is setting

Now the private party is in preparation

Now the Private chef is getting ready

 to cook the elaborate dishes

For the rich and fortunate

While the poor all over the world are 

thinking how and with what kind of nutrition

they must feed their hungry children?

The private party has the exclusive 

invitation for the exclusive wealthy friends

The wine is 100 years old and 

costs thousands upon thousands of dollars

The poor are searching the

garbage for bread crumbs

But why should you worry 

about the poor of the world so much ?

That's the major question I have not been able to answer...

CORNER

Came so far away to get stuck in this corner

Came so far away, so far away...

SNAP

Too much devotion is not good

People can hate you for that

Worry ?

Don't sleep?

Nervous?

Solitary battle?

Don't fall down

Don't fail

So much pressure to succeed

To obey

To serve

To care

To help

To sacrifice

To give

To suffer

Do everything to build yourself up

Had to be corrected

So the lies were invented

To stay away

To save time

 Not to be submissive

And then the time came

The necessity 

To stand up

Fight back

Speak firmly

Show that you can also snap

You have the ability to snap 

And you don't care about the money

And you don't want to be controlled at all

 under any circumstances

It takes a while but you live and learn

He never snapped

He took pills and drank

Drank and drank till his dying day

Snap if you have to

But don't fall down

Don't fail

Snap...if you have to

If you don't want to be controlled.

CAN'T DEAL WITH IT

Too much hand written material

 on thin tissue papaers

On thin tissue toilet papers

On thin tissue toilet seat papers

What were you thinking ?

Not thinking but writing

Just writing

You are always writing

Why not ?

What else is there to do ?

Write but don't write on tissue papers

What should I write on ?

On the computer

Computer is no fun

Computer is boring

Computer is a machine

Machine can't deal with writing

Write on the computer and send it on

Send it on to whom ?

To the publishers 

There are publishers out there ?

Every body is out there

Oh! I didn't know

Now you do

So what should I do now ?

Write on the computer

What about all those tissue papers ?

Put that writing on the computer

But its a lot of writing

Have assistance

What?

Assistance

What ?

Assistance I said ?

What ?

PERHAPS

Perhaps it's this

Perhaps it's that

Perhaps it's this and that

Perhaps its something which is neither this nor that

 What is it then ?

 I don't know

Perhaps it's laziness

Perhaps it's the weight gain

Perhaps it's the desire's illness

Perhaps it's the desire's meekness

Perhaps it's the desire's accomplishment

How could that be ?

Which desire is the one which gets accomplished?

Desire is unsatisfied

Desire is thirsty and hungry for more and more

But where is my desire ?

Perhaps...Perhaps...Perhaps...

PERHAPS WHAT ?

How would I know ?

I am that perhaps who is not sure of anything...

FLUTTERING SINGING BIRDS

Desparate, birds, nervous, fluttering in the wind

No one pays attention

No one see that high above

Fluttering, singing birds keep singing,

 wounded, upset, hurt, sad, cynical,

Singing laments of hopelessness

 and hope and then hopelessness again........

MUSLIM VOICES

Who needs them ?

CURRENT AFFAIRS

Money laundering frauds

Organ selling frauds

Bribery frauds

Medicare frauds

Doctors involved in medicare frauds

Woman killing all four of her daughters

A lawyer drowned herself in  the river, Thames

Drug addicts in shanty towns of Argentina

Drug called, "PACO."

Baghdadi's still committing suicide bombings

Talibans killing and being killed

People eating pork chops 

people drinking beer

President drinking beer over race issues in a superb democracy

Play grounds knowingly dangerous for the kids

Sold out shows price $100

Unemployment rising

Economy going down and down.

PREPARATION FOR THINGS TO COME

Prepare

Prepare well

Things are coming

Things will come

Things gone 

Not coming back

But new things are coming

Good ?

Bad ?

Don't know

But things will come

You have to be prepared

For good and bad

Prepare for the coming battles

I promise you the battles will come

Always will come

Battles never go away

They are always on the way of their return

Prepare your spirit for the battle

Be ready...

Battles don't promise anything but destruction

Battles demand a lot

Battles don't promise anything good

But battles demand a lot of good from you

Patience called, "Sabar."

Kindness, perseverance, will, courage, strength, survival

Battles expect a lot

Battles promise nothing good

But you still have to prepare

Like a play which has a deadline

Rehearsal is all

"Can't open, not ready...."

Battles don't listen to things like that

Battles don't listen to delays like that

Battles come like a Storm 

 and leave like a storm

Always reminding you of the 

destruction they caused

And the reminder of the future

 destruction they will cause

Prepare for the next battle.....

Prepration for the battle is 

The rehearsal for the coming play

BUILD CASTLES

Build, build, build

They will destroy

but you will build

The more they will destroy

The more you will build

Don't let them destroy your spirit

That's when you are destroyed

Not your buildings only...

But you, and only you will be destroyed.

Don't let anyone destroy your spirit...

Don't under any circumstance

Under all circumstances...

Destruction of your spirit is the end.

AURA OF GENTILITY

Aura of gentility is gone, 

completely gone.

You have to be a nasty, 

up-front,

An, aggressive bitch to achieve even a crumb

 There is a tragedy of insensitivity

 towards a gentle, civil, dignified person.

Get hold of your emotions.

Have logical tough thoughts 

of getting ahead at all cost.

Think business logically.

Human beings are as logical as machines

For success you have to

 be a logical machine

Emotions are for failures.

Don't try the same technique of failure

Don't go where you felt ill 

with the thought of brutality

Raise your hopes one more time

Be tough

Be up-front

Be nasty

Be proud of being so strong

FREEDOM AND IDENTITY

Identity ?

Freedom ?

Are you kidding me ?

The more you want to be free

The more you are enslaved

The more clarification you want 

and need toward identity

the more confused and lost you become

Stop looking for these two things.

The more you want to explain 

or debate about the goodness of a particular

religion such as Islam,

 the more hated you become 

by the so called,"Bigoted/debaters/expert/intellectuals 

who hate you and Islam to begin with.

All the debate is to provoke you, 

not to like you 

and to prove to others

 that you are no good

a person, 

your religion is no good a religion

 because they say so, 

because they know so, 

because they are the experts of everything.

Freedom is only a word with vague definitions.

And identity?

That's your problem.

Go figure...

WORKING

Working non stop like you do

Like all of you do

No time for anything 

No time for social life

No time at all.

Working, working, working 

And then you are successful.

You can rest as well

But then you won't be successful

Not the kind of success you need

The success you want

The kind of success

Which need slaughter...

Yes, That's the special success

One must work for that

Then you will be imperial

An imperial power

POOR

Nothing to do

No work

Nothing to do

No money

Nothing to do

No work

No work for them to do.

I AM

I am the only thing which bothers me

It always has

I am trying so hard to 

get rid of the,"bother factor."

but it stays on and on and on

working harder and harder on me

It doesn't give up.

AWAKENING MEMBERS

When you want to fight back for your rights

they call you, "awakening members."

THEATER

"Should be provocative

breaking the norms

have brutal aesthetic

and out of control."

'It should be hopeless, 

socially realistic and violent."

"It should be voyeuristic."

Another brilliant read.

Time well spent reading the other day

DOMINANT CULTURE

"You must understand the 

dominant culture to be mobile."

"Opportunity and ambition 

still doesn't guarrente success"

'For mobility you have to have emotional support 

and practical knowledge of what's expected of them."

I didn't say that.  I read it somewhere

I have been reading some important stuff lately

It seems like it

Where have I been before ?

Sleeping...Wide awake sleeping

Not so wide awake but dozing off..........

SOCIALLY MOBILE

"Any one who wants to be

 or hopes to be socially mobile

 has by definition

to learn to read the culture that

 is not the one they grew up with."

I didn't say that. 

 I read it somewhere.

But these are the most 

important words I ever read.

I wish I read them earlier, 

much earlier,

 but they weren't written then.

Or maybe they were

But I just read it now....

A bit late...

'Never too late."

They say

That's baloney...

It's late, very late

A fact...

Can't be denied.

BALTHAZAR

"A monologue about the perfect or not so perfect croissant at Balthazar."

To be written and performed like the old times sake.

SHOW ART BUSINESS, SHOW BUSINESS

You have to have passion for the arts

and see it as a business and make it a business."

I didn't say that

 but I am unable to make anything a, "Business" 

 I was even spelling the word business wrong. 

 I was spelling it like this, "buisness." 

 I swear to you till some one

  Corrected me....

No one ever corrected me for spelling it wrong 

because they wanted me to fail.

People were always jealous of me

Because I had the ambition and courage

 but no business skills......

'If you are un-able to see the art world

 as business and make it your business 

you have-'a right to fail."

Any one who couldn't even spell the word business,

 what chance did that person have?

That person was me...

Art I loved, 

business I never understood

 or cared about.

No sweat...

I leave the business part 

to the businessmen

Corrupt businessmen

They are in every field

Look around

Lots of killing going on

For BUSINESS PURPOSES...

LOWER THAN THE LOW

Too tough

Too Un-educated

Too street smart

Too controlling

Too self involved

Too loud

Too proud of hustle

Dealings with money laundering

Dealing with middle class hustlers

Good for them

The world is full of them

I want to stay out of that atmosphere

I try

But they bring that atmosphere right to me...

They are so many in numbers

One can't avoid them

One has to know how to deal with them

And its so hard

You can't,

Do you want to?

Hell no...

God forbid

Not like them

Don't' want to be like them

Under any circumstances

What's the answer then ?

Ignore them...

Easy said than done.

They got you by the throat...

Not me, not me, not me.

So you don't want success?

Not me, but you go ahead...

You go ahead darling

Go ahead...

A LAWYER

Drowned herself in river Thames in London

Her husband was a doctor

She was a successful lawyer

She had three children

The youngest child was six months old

She send a text message to her husband

A text message of a big kiss and reassurance 

of her love for him and the kids

And went and drowned herself in the river Thames of London

I heard that she set very high standers for herself

Her tragedy touched me deeply to the core of my heart

Like the tragedy of Sarah Kane  and her suicide .....

I didn't know any of these two beautiful people........

PUSHING DOORS OPEN 

Finally going to take the advice of well wishers

Going to get up from this bench where

 I am chatting my life away

Gossiping small stuff

 and chatting with the one who is telling me,

"To go push open doors for yourself."

I am going to finally take the well wishers advice

I should have done this long time ago....................

People can afford to chatt for a few minutes

They did their day's work

What did you do all day ?

Chatted my life away...

You stupid fool

You silly goose

You sorry sight

What did you do that for ?

No answer to your question....

BUSY

"Being busy doesn't mean that

 you have to go to the office 9 to 5/

and bring a check home every week.

'Busy" mean culturally busy/creative busy

Museums ?  Busy

Art galleries?  Busy

Theater? Busy

Read?  Busy

Write? Busy

Perform ? Busy

Go to the readings? Busy

Check? No check? Busy

Don't get in the way of your own ability

You did in the past

Now don't blame others

 for your own bad judgment, bad mistakes

And who the F**K is blaming others ?

 Time is consumed in blaming the fucking self .

Only myself to be blamed?

only me....its a me me me me culture

Other memememememememem got ahead

This memememememememem sat and blamed herself

A ROUGH AND TOUGH BITCH

Every one is frightened of her

Everyone needs her

Everyone pay attention to her

Everyone feels needy

Everyone expect a favor form the rough/tough/bitch

She is the boss

BASTARDS

The aura of a bastard is always successful today

The days of decency are over

Am I cynical ?

Look around you 

How many decent successful people do you see ?

Arn't  all those mayors of NJ bastards or not ?

Decent poor people ran around and voted for them

So they could take care of their meager needs

And what did they do ?

They stole from them

They stole right and left

The religious men

The protectors of faith

Stealing human organs

Now you are going to argue with me on the 

behalf of those corrupt bastards?

All right I used the wrong word...,"Steal."

Alright, they didn't steal

They were so decent

They didn't steal the kidneys of the poor

They bought them

For ten thousand dollars

And sold them for one hundred  and sixty thousand dollars

There is a lot of profit in being a bastard

You think a few decent people left

 In the world are making this much profit ?

You think that a few decent people left in the world

 can even imagine making profit this way?

Decent people however have no respect in the world

Its the bastards who are being admired for

 Their imagination till they get caught.

DID YOU NOTICE  HOW MANY KINDS OF BASTARDS ARE HERE?

Did you notice the moment the bastard appeared/ he, the other bastard

got up/left his work to greet him/as if he was God/and he like

an obedient slave got up to greet him/left the work/and got up to greet the bastard

the frightening bastard/though he was a frightening bastard

he got up to greet him like a slave because he was a frightened

bastard and the one he got up to greet was a powerful bastard...

All levels of bastards exist in this world now.

Shame on the slave/shame on the slave/shame on the slave

But that's what the slavery is about................

Slave has to get up and salute the bastard

TRIAL OF YOU BY YOU

You have some explaining to do

You have a lot of explaining to do

You have to be careful

You have to be a lot  more careful

You have to be much more careful 

than you have been in your life

You are on trial

There is a judge

There is a prosecutor

There is a jury

But there is no defense lawyer

You have to defend yourself by yourself

And you are not good at that

You have to be careful

You have to be really careful

Its not your life any more that you can waste and abuse

Its a trial

And you are on it

And there is a jury and a judge and a prosecutor

You can go to jail for life

Or you can be hanged

Or you can be killed by a lethal injection

You can rot in jail for life

Its not your life any more

The life you didn't take seriously

The life you squander

The life you wasted with nothing people

The life you threw away

Its not your life any more

It's a trial

You are on a trial

And you have no defense lawyer

You can rot in jail for life

The life you threw away

The life you wasted

You are on a trial

You have to be careful

You have to be very careful

Its not your life any more

The life you just threw away...................

NOTHING PEOPLE

"They did nothing. They behaved important."

'They had the tendency to stoke your grief."   I didn't say that....

Of course you didn't. 

 They all worked on you and you allowed it.

'Work harder to be capable."  I didn't say that either

Of course you didn't

They stopped your work.

And you allowed that

Now you are on a trial

You are on a trial and its you

 Who have put yourself on a trial.

You have to explain to the judge

 Why you allowed all those nothing people to manipulate 

Your work and your emotions  and your life.

OBLIGED

"Feel obliged to defer to people."  shame on you.

"Always wanting to move the thing forward."

"Lets try this, see where it goes."

 I didn't say that...

Of course you didn't

You are always looking back to some old, lost glory.

PUSH

"Need to push ahead

And let anyone who lags behind catchup." 

 I didn't say that...

I wish I did and paid attention to its saying...

And if they don't ?

Do you care ?

The one who pushed ahead is gone too far ahead 

To care for the ones lagging behind

Those losers...

I said that...

QUALITIES FOR "SUCCESS."

Single mindedness

Strategic plan

Love of Impact

Courage to go to uncharted territory

Certain ruthlessness

Now how many of these do you have ?

No ruthlessness...that's for sure

No strategic plan...that's for sure

Single mindedness?  Please...

Love of Impact? None

Courage to go to uncharted territory? None.

And you expected success ?

REALITY

You simply can't go there-where

the shades of real reality is/you will be down and depressed

Despairing for the rest of your life/to face up to this troubled world

and its inhabitants/you have to develop a system in your own head/

of not believing the reality/keep denying the difficult side of the truth/

and its consequence/till you end up believing the denial scenario/you

yourself has created/that will for sure become your reality/and 

you will feel up and your spirit will be uplifted/and optimistic/

to be part of the reality/real reality/which hurts/and despair/

you have to deny/deny/deny and go on.....

SELF LOVE

Who says it doesn't pay ?

Self love is mostly rewarded.

In one way or the other

People who love themselves are

 Always taking care of their needs

And why shouldn't they ?

And the needs are un-ending

And they should be

The needs of everyday life

The needs of desires

The needs of careers

The needs of intimacy

The needs of relationships

Self loving people look 

beautiful most of the time

They are manicured 

They have plans

They stick to them

They wait for no one

They keep going

They come first

Its an individualistic society

It counts

You count

They count

It's up to you

Compete

Every one is competing

How are you going to succeed ?

All self loving people succeed

There is nothing wrong with self love

Actually it's essential

Its outgoing

Its self promoting

Who else should it promote ?

Promote you ?

Who never want to be promoted

 By any one or anything .

Learn to love yourself a bit more

A bit more ? 

 What a bit more going to do ?

Need a lot of self loving, 

A lot of self loving...

Self lovers know everything

They know how to promote themselves, 

Sell themselves, 

Appreciate themselves, 

Take care of themselves,

 Respect themselves, 

Adore themselves, 

love themselves....

What the hell happened with you ?

You went the opposite direction

What's this hatred coming from ?

Why is this hatred coming ?

Occupy yourself with your self and promote it

Go out and sell your goods

You have goods to sell ?

Yes, sure...lots of goods to sell

Then why do you want to let your goods to wrought ?

Why are you accumulating goods ?

For what ?

And for whom ?

Get them out of your house

Get everything out of your house

Clean the house

Clean the empty house

Its easy to clean the empty house

Clean the God damned house

Throw the shit out

And sell the goods

And seek fame and fortune 

Be in love with materialism

And why not ?

The world is in love with themselves 

And in love with the fame and fortune and materialism

Why don't you live inside the world ?

Why do you think that you are so unique?

 That you want to live outside

 This world all alone y yourself ?

What good are your values 

if they are not good for the world ?

What good are your values 

If they don't let you participate in the world ?

Which world do you belong to ?

If you belong to no world 

Then its time for you to belong

Belong to this world

Why not ?

Are you so special that you can't belong to

 This shitty world and still love yourself ?

Its time for you to try something new

Brand new stuff

Love your self

Get occupied by yourself

Promote your self

Promote your excellent goods

Excellent?

No one's goods are excellent

They just think that they are

You don't think that way

Think that way

Say your goods are excellent

Say it everyday

Three times a day

In the morning, afternoon and evening

And say it again at night before you go to bed

And say it again before you get out of bed

Say your mediocre goods are excellent

Say it like every one else is saying it

No body's stuff is excellent

Every one has below mediocre

 Things including art of all kinds

Why can they sell and you don't ? 

Because you think you live in an imaginary world

 Where people tell the truth and care for others....

There is no world like that any more

The world is only full of people who are mediocre, 

With mediocre art and no love

 For any one else but themselves.....

Belong to that very world

21st century machinery

Whatever machine does for them is good

Let the machine help you

Forget the esthetic

Esthetics? my butt...................

wake up

17th century is over

So is 18th century

So is 19th century

So is the 20th century

You are in 21st century

The half of the world is being killed

The other half is in love with themselves 

And promoting their fluff and 

Are in-front of the machine...

Forgive yourself for being good

Forgive yourself for being kind

Forgive yourself for being affectionate to others

Forgive yourself for being caring

Forgive yourself

And start loving yourself

Be a narcissist....

Occupy yourself with yourself and promote it...

Compete with the F**king world...

Every one, every where is killing

World is no more a world with safety for any one

It's just a powerful killing machine...

Forget about everything

And try to be nice to your self.

Dress better

Look nice

Use your beautiful clothes

Hanging in the closets...

Wear them...

Oh! how I would love to.

They don't fit any more...