Pregnancy, oh such a beautiful thing.

General Surgery, Orthopedics, Gynecology
Of course I’d never been here before.
Life fucks us all but people had fucked me more.
A slut they call me
Serves me right because I spread for money
A mouth to feed I have at home
One mouth a night or the mouth’s my own
But while now I sit, on this cold chair
I feel the mouth that was still there
Where my back now lays to rest in peace
I feel the bite, a spank no kiss
The thrust, the moan
This body of mine, they think they own
And honest enough, I think so too.
This way of mine, don’t deem if safe
100 dollars more for a leash and a tape
Don’t play it safe darling, drop it in you I shall
Trying to refuse are you? Don’t want me to slip it in the wrong hole, do you?
And yes he did, unleashed the joy, the fountain
For the 7th time a week, I hear the same sound and
Think to myself if I’m out of my pills
Can’t buy more anyway, drugs keep dragging my bills
Yes drugs I did say, you heard me right
You wouldn’t need one, in your decorated life
At least that’s what I see, in this place of white coats
Collars and dollars, congratulations they say
So happy you’re gonna have a baby, what a wonderful lie
I am gonna have one too and I hope it dies
April 5th, 1954:
My baby is born, my love, my life.
I’m gonna take good care of him, and make him a great guy.
April 5th, 1959:
My baby’s in school now, he’s been getting straight As.
I think I’ll make him a doctor when he get’s to his days.
April 5th, 1964:
The neighborhood isn’t good for my baby to stay.
But I leave this place now, means it’s street everyday.
April 5th, 1969:
My baby….. just doesn’t talk to me anymore.
But he’s a good person inside, of that, I’m sure,
All I have to do is provide a little more.
April 5th, 1972:
That son of a bitch OD’d on heroin today, And yet it’s all my terrible fault, they say.
She should have never raised a child, after all she’s a slut,
She should’ve listened to me and let me fuck her while my wife was away, could’ve satisfied that cunt.
April 5th, 1976:
Two guys showed up on my doorstep today with automatic guns.
Bald head and scary faces, told me they were looking for my son.
Inquired to know what wrong had he done,
Didn’t matter they said, soon he’d be gone.
A threat to my face, a deal I put on,
They took turns to poke me, and left alone my son.
April 5th, 1978:
They come everyday, tell me they’ll kill my son,
All I have to do to avoid that, is to spread them wide open
And let them use their guns.
These guns feel like bullets, as I take 9 in 1,
I really hope he’s safe as long as this goes on.
April 5th, 1980:
They corner my son, beside a dark dumpster trash.
Guess what bitch, you don’t have your mother anymore to save your ass.
Talking about asses now, your mom’s was the best,
Squishy and fine, tasted like butter and bread,
Well, too bad she’s dead. I put a bullet in her hole,
Said she was too tired to give this macho a blow,
Now she’s all red now, not from spanks though just blood
They shoot him too my beautiful son, my doctor, the stud.
As the image disappears, I see a white coat,
I freak out, look around, ask him the date while he clears his throat
It’s November 5th ma’am, are you alright?
Yes sir, I have a fetus, and I hope it dies.

To do.

Worthless heaps of meat who’re thirsty for our eyes we are. We chase beasts under their hidden skin and leave out the beauties. We make choices we’re not authorized to make. I take a look back to think if feelings are real. Are you really angry or do you believe that you’re angry? Are you happy or do you believe that you’re happy? As Rinpoche once asked the Journalist Bijay Kumar if He was Bijay Kumar or it was just his name. We do not know ourselves but pretend we do. We live in our selfish worlds and everything revolves around us but we fail to look at their worlds and how WE impact it. As we see it, everything is about us. We are designed to think so. We believe what others repeatedly tell us to believe but tend to ignore the source of our knowledge. We defend that knowledge with all that we’ve got but never look back to see what it’s worth. We are the same, everyone the same, trimmed and molded to fit in the same sphere and are bounded by chains each and everyone of us yet we yell “FREEDOM!”. We are taught to think what should make us happy and what should not. We look around and see what makes people angry and tend to be frustrated by the same general things. We scream Fuck! when our tire goes flat but do we really need to be? Yes you’ve been set aback a few minutes and couldn’t get to where you were going in time but what is it really? You’re not angry because you couldn’t complete a work assigned for you in time, it’s never that. We believe it’s that but there’s more to it. We’re humans, we don’t care for shit about anyone else, there’s always self-interest hidden in what we do and yet we tell ourselves that is how you make a living- by thinking about what belongs to you and fucking everything else in the way. We make bigger deals of the smallest things in our hunt for attention and fail to act normal. We overreact on the smallest of things and eventually delete the word “calm” from our dictionary. What do we do? We meditate. Another act to “teach” yourself to stay calm and focused. Well fuck you. You don’t need to “teach” yourself any such thing. You can stay calm if you want to and stay focused if you really want to. You just believe that you can’t and do all sorts of acts to “improve” yourself but in fact you’re doing nothing and to be honest, you don’t want to. That is who we are- beings who sell their ideas about “how the living standard of the poor can be made better” to earn money and live a little more far from them. But this writing isn’t about what we are, it’s about what we can be. Stay calm. Don’t make a big deal out of everything but just deal with the problem, in most cases there isn’t a problem at all. Start looking from other people’s perspectives, for if everyone would start looking from each other’s perspectives, there’d be no arguments in this world. Lennon asked you to imagine, I ask you to do.

Just another day

It is the same everyday. I don’t know where I’ve gone wrong. Who do I blame? I blame myself. I forget everything when I’m with her. I forget my pride, I forget self-respect, I could go so low as a human could go to the state whereby I may regard her as my ventriloquist itself, me being merely a doll, doing whatever she asks of me. But I believe it is all worth it. For she may as well be far better a person than I am, and I consider myself lucky to just have her. I do whatever I can to please her, for she is all I have wanted and all I will ever want, but it seems insufficient. I have always been considered a happy man, pleased with what I have in my life. I myself, have never thought any different. But then I met her for the first time and I thought I’d be the happiest person there could be, even happier than I already was, if I was ever to have the honor of calling her my own. You see, love is mysterious. But it is not of concern here. I have loved her and will love her always. This is merely an outburst of feelings. Feelings I’ve hidden for too long. For I do have the privilege of being loved by her, but after a brief phase of time, I am not a happy man.
As anyone else, I thought I was the best person that lives. But this statement of self-belief is rarely true, and there is always someone better than you, in some aspect or the other. Apparently, there were but a few aspects I was good at, let alone best. But aren’t these “relationships” based on the fundamental principle of being a better man yourself? Yes, they are, so no-one can expect rainbows and butterflies while conversing with your “partner” all the time,can they? For being a better person requires you to listen to your flaws and nobody would want to believe that they do have flaws. But does this critique of my character by a foreign body explain my content mood? It may, to a certain point, until you realize the very fact that you are not the “Oh so great” person you thought you were but a person who can improve his life by a great deal. I, for one, have realized that, but still this feeling of unhappiness consumes me and I long to find the answer.
I cannot blame her. I chose her. Yes, she does like things her way, contrary to the way I’d like to go, but these “relationships” are made up of sacrifices, and I am ready to sacrifice it all. By her way, I mean how I have to show up when she’d like to meet me, but she, on the other hand, can simply end my “I’d like to meet with you” with a “Nope”. I mean how she can tell all the things in the world to you, and you have to forget it all to come back to tell that you love her, but when you say a word not so good to her, she does not “want to talk to you”. These are concerns of slim value in a person’s life, and it would be silly to actually care about them, but love makes us do silly things, and that is precisely what has happened here. But of course, she cannot be a better person than I am as I stated earlier if this was entirely the case, could she? Yes, she does come up with an occasional “Sorry” and I know that she knows what she is saying or doing is wrong at the time she is doing it, but the problem is that she does it anyway. Who’s to blame her, people want different things at different times, but I do feel awfully bad when she does those “wrong” things. I can not hate her at those times though, I love her too much to do that. Whatever the case may be, I do know that she is not to blame, for she loves me as much as I do her, and she wants the same thing that I do: happiness. Maybe this is the same thing what is going through her mind, for it is all about perspective. And there would be no arguments in this world, if people would look from each others’ perspectives.
So what is the cause and who is to blame for this ghastly feeling taking over me which I would so like to get rid of? For we are humans, we feel before we reason, and act before we think. I would like to think of this feeling as a feeling I get before I reason and this piece of writing as an act before I thought. This way, there is no cause to this unhappiness and no one to blame. Just another day in life.

Like anyone of us

He sits there. As always. The street is his home. “Footpath” is not what he calls his bed, but we do. Few know that he sleeps at that corner, while spitting their disgust there. He lives off what dogs leave. At least they leave something. No human ever tries to talk to him, but dogs do. They bark at him with all their might. Delighted, he barks back, while the people yell out “Madman”. He is not religious. He has forgotten what it means. But he visits that temple everyday. Food is what he looks for. With no energy, he wanders around. He finds a drink. He could fill his stomach and his energy bar with that much milk. It’s flowing in the gutter. He has the knowledge to starve rather than drink from the sewer. You see, he has knowledge. Like anyone of us. He did go to a school, like anyone of us. He did try and study, like anyone of us. But he couldn’t excel at it, like many of us. You see he has a story too, like anyone of us. The eldest son of a poor family. One night of fake pleasure for two human beings initiated a lifelong gloom for another. They couldn’t feed him. They couldn’t kill him. He had a fate much more worse than death. He had to survive. Survive on his own. Survive on no food. Survive, on nothing. They left him in the street when he was 3 years old. He was taken by an orphanage, where he was sent to school. But you see, he couldn’t study. He could study, but he couldn’t. Every night they came, each and every night. It hurt when they put thier bodies into his. He’d try and scream, but he couldn’t, his mouth was already full. How could he study? This one night, he bit the thing in his mouth. The teenager hungry for physical satisfaction cried out in vain. They came after him but he ran and ran and ran. He looked back, there was no one. No lights. No lives. Just him. He sat down on the stairs beside him and cried silently. It’s been twenty years. He is still there. Sitting. He’s way to old to cry but those guys who “raped” him are still around.He recognizes them. Each and every one of them. None of them recognize him. Like they took his body then, they’re taking his soul now. Cause they ride in their polished cars, and are called heroes among the orphans. They too, visit that temple everyday. They pour milk onto the stone sculpture, which flows into the gutter. Outside, he watches it flow. He asks for food in the temple development committee while they push him outside yelling that the money donated is needed to build a new home for him, a new street at the intersection. These are the same people who give lectures to their children about sympathy and empathy. He goes back to the stairs, hungry and cold. Dissapointed, like anyone of us.


From a room of smoke emerges a figure. It’s the sillouhette of my shadow. I was high.I needed to be. For I required the guts to confront her, to go and talk to her.She was always there, waiting, hoping that I’d go and talk to her someday, but I never did. It was not that I didn’t want to, I wanted to, I wanted to more than anything else in the world but I could not. No matter how cool I tried to look, I was a chicken inside. I couldn’t go because I was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid that she’d smile at me? Afraid that I’d fall in love? Afraid that she would bury all her secrets in my skin? But that was all I wanted. Something held me back. Maybe it was the virtual world. Oh yes, the virtual world. I didn’t need to talk to her in person, I’d already talked to her in social media, I could just keep doing the same stuff. Why did anything need to change? Everybody wants change but everybody’s too afraid to face it. Maybe that was what I was afraid of. Change. But I did want change in my life, I wanted someone I could tell everything to. I wanted a partner, I want a partner, who knew everything about me and I knew everything about her. Someone who I could count on at difficult times. Someone who’d be beside me in the ups and downs of my life. Someone whom I could trust. But I still didn’t go.It’s not that I never tried. I did. This one time, when she was standing there with our mutual friends, I started a conversation with them to eventually work my way into talking to her. I looked at her so I could talk to her. But she never looked back. I fled the scene. But this other time, we actually talked,yes,in person. Oh she was more delightful than any social network could offer! I’d finally done it. No more problems. The next day at work, and it’s all the same. I still didn’t feel confident around her. It was like a test, a test I’d failed far too often to try and pass. I didn’t try and talk,again. And she never came. Why would she? I was just the other guy who spoke to her on the Internet. To her, my name was a chatbox. I never did figure out if she liked talking to me. Emojis didn’t tell much. I had to talk to her in person to know. But I never could. So we’re still stuck to how we were when I “requested” her to be my friend, something that one never needs to do in the real world. She’s still around, waiting. And I’ve just started getting high. High on courage, high on want. High on who I want to be.

Marks or Knowledge?

Marks or knowledge?
What do you think is more important? From where I come from, older generations believe that marks are more important. Marks are what matter, as on basis of them one is graded and better marks takes one to better educational institutes, better jobs and eventually a better life is what they have to say.

“But not better people, the irony.”

On the contrary, the newer generations think otherwise. They think that marks are not what matter but the knowledge one has takes the person to heights.
Marks are merely a reflection of how much knowledge one has. People had knowledge, but who had more could not be determined, so marks i.e. grading was created so as to determine who has more knowledge. But what has made the newbees think that knowledge and marks differ and knowledge matters more?
For instance,students have been reported to say that they’ve not got as much marks as they had expected to get after giving an examination. As per the principle, marks should be the reflection of one’s knowledge, but why is this not true in practice?
There are no questions raised against the principle of why gradings where created. That’s because there is no flaw in this principle. But the flaw is in it’s efficiency. The marks obtained by a student are not as good as they expect because the teachers judge them and their understanding through a few papers written by the student. So,the teacher does not know who the student is and what he is capable of. He merely grades if the student has memorized all the points correctly and mentioned them. Only the academic qualities of the students are judged. Despite the efforts of the concerned authorites, to ask conceptual questions in such tests, the efficiency of the system is still in question due to the methods of grading. Also, students get different marks for writing the exact same thing as the some graders are impressed by their answers while some are not. So, students basically write the test to impress the grader rather than to write what they understand.  Consequently, students see that,sometimes, academically “weak” students score higher marks while “talented” students score less marks in examinations. This frustrates them and they come to the conclusion that knowledge matters more than marks, because as per what they’ve seen, anyone can score good marks. This happens because the grading system in these countries has not been updated. A student is graded on the basis of what he/she writes within 3 hours where the time limit is so closely packed that a student hesitates to go to the loo in fear that he/she’d miss a question and score lesser marks.
Western countries are en route to discard this system of grading a student. Some believe that there are quite some students that just cannot do good on tests but are actually quite intelligent. So instead of grading a student on one sitting, they look through everything that a student has to offer and grade them on the basis of that. The people who grade the students know each student personally and can efficiently grade the student. Factors such as social service, attention in classroom, interaction, are taken into consideration instead of just one’s academic performance and a student is graded. This brings out more expected and satisfactory scores of the students and that is why students don’t usually whine about the education system in the Western countries.
As students here have seen and heard of this way of grading and think that it is more efficient, they expect the related authorites to introduce such grading system in their country as well. As the authorities have been sticking to the “older” methods of grading a student, the frustation that the newer generations that mostly comprises of students have, only increases. Hence, they think that knowledge is above marks. One lives a life on basis of his/her certificates,and marks and grades until he/she gets a good job, but your life does not end after that. Only a fraction of it is spent, and after that, those certificates and marks don’t make a difference in your way of living but your knowledge does, it leads your life as it tells you the good from the bad, is what the younger generations say. But as the older generations are mostly in the dark about these new methods of grading, and believe that marks are, in fact, what show the capabilities of a student, they think that marks are more important. They agree to some extent that knowledge guides one’s life but they also believe that a person needs to have a good living standard firstly before pondering over the beauties of life, and to acheive a good living standard, a good job is required which somehow links up to the grades you get as a student. As marks i.e. grades are actually what judge how far a student can strech his wings, provided the techniques of grading are efficiently implemented, marks are important as they stand proof to one’s amount of knowledge. At the same time, one cannot score good marks unless he has good knowledge about a subject. So it’s really about the educational system of different places, that brings out this question, rather than the mystery of the question itself.


You’ve got two ways to go, and you’re tensed. Be cool and try and look at all the options you have on hand, and try and make the decision. Try.You’ll fail. It’s a dilemma. It’ll drive you crazy,it will make you think over and over and look at all the possibilities, which are pointless, and you can choose neither. You’re thinking, day after day, which way should you go,the one you love or the one you want to love, you look down and think, you go deep into your thoughts just to figure out which way would be better, but when you look back up, there’s a cliff ahead and a cliff behind,and you have nowhere to go. The options have gone.They don’t wait forever. You didn’t act quick enough and now from multiple choices you’re left with nothing. There were two ways to choose from, but now there are none. You’re stuck at the top of the cliff until you get to choose again.You’ll have to wait. Until an option comes along the way. Because these options, oh yes, out of all the things in the world, these options cannot be created. Your patience might be tested as you’ll have to wait, until a way shows up. This time, maybe you don’t have to choose. Maybe there won’t be multiple options. So you don’t need to think which way is better, because there is no other way. But you’d rather not take this way.So I ask you. Would you rather have choices or no choices at all?


The news of death.
How it hits you like a missile. One moment you’re laughing over a silly joke completely unaware of the beauty of life and then you’re weeping and whining over the fact that life ends with death. All that starts must end; all that intiates, completes. But it is only when the moment arrives, that we realize this gift, the gift of time, to fly through our imagination and creativity, seeking for happiness and living truely, until all of it is gone in a flash. Untimely death is the worse that can happen. It could happen anytime,anywhere. But it is just a risk we all are taking, isn’t it? What if? What if an earthquake of 11 richter scales struck right now? What if you get hit by a bus while crossing the road? What if a plane crashes into your house? You might as well be dead in a couple of seconds, I don’t know, you don’t know, no one knows. But only when it actually happens do we know, do we all know, how life can end in a glimpse.”What if?” is a dangerous question. We tend to ignore it, and not using it would be best, but when”What if?” turns into reality, that’s when it strikes you, when you actually know Life is no nintendo game to restart, once you’re gone, it’s game over.So we should do whatever we can do,while we can do it. My thoughts go out to the families who have lost their loved ones when the unimaginated turned into reality. Stay strong, so that you can rise again and understand that what has happened , has happened. My thoughts are with all the families who are in this time of grief.