Monday, 28 November 2011

The Attention Seeker

Who what where when why
Questions, questions and questions
And more questions
I have in my mind
Why is it that
 Every different thing
Someone tries and succeeds
There becomes a hoard and a pack
And a bunch of hooligans
Ready to support it
Why is it that
Every second guy
Across the street
Talks loud when he
Sees a hot broad
Crossing his path
Why is it
Every second kid
Wants to be a
God of sport
Why, when, how
It happened
That everyone wants to
Be a star
At every bloody point
In his life,
Where he sells his
Soul for that momentary
Happiness that will
Dissolve in moments
Quickly once its over
 Why doesn’t some one
Realize that fame has a half life
Of few days
And loss of respect stays longer
But no,
Every one
Every damn one
Is running
Just running
And running and running
Behind money, not because
Money will buy him happiness
But because money will
Buy him a car,
Seeing which in a pub
Chicks will be around him
Because money will buy him
A private seat in horse race
Where bookies will interview him
For his bet
And he will be praised for a lousy bracelet
Because money will buy him a drink
Which will in turn buy him people
Around him
He doesn’t realize
All that done
 When buying that attention
Buying those cheap pleasures
Which cost high
He sold his soul in between
He sold that true peace that he would get
When he could have tried to buy that
But no
What he would want
Is a shortcut
Those envious paths
Of him being one
And me being none
That thrust to
Become a king
To show others small
That urge to feel
Above the others
Losing the sense of
True genuine motivation
Inspiration and achievement
That day
He just became
That loser
That human being
Winner of bets
And attention
And people
Loser of life
That day when
He became
The attention seeker.
                                                                -Salil Shankar

Sunday, 27 November 2011

Nightmare of a fallen soul

Days will pass
Months will pass
Years will pass
One day I will be
On my deathbed
With wires and tubes
Going in and coming out
Then and today
There is only one difference
Right now it seems
I am physically well
Then
It will not be the same
Yet, condition of both
Of me’s will be same
I am and I will be
Filled with Regret
That one dream
Of being a king
That one dream
Of being a human being
That one dream
Of having a beloved by my side
And by my choice
That one dream of being happy
For once
That one dream
Of having a dream
And trying to realize it
It died long before
I started to decline
Or
I started to rise
In reality
That one dream
Died
Once and for all
And I became
Soul less creature
Who could think
But would never feel
Forever……

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

Blankness

खालीपन

उस बहकी बरसात में
जहाँ पे मन में
कोई सोच न थी
कोई आवाज़ न थी
कोई शोर न था
कोई अनजानी हरकत
कोई बेरुखी शरारत
कोई नयी खबर
कुछ भी न थी
मैं उस पल में
अपने अंदर यूँ ही
झाँक रहा था
क्या है मेरे पास
और क्या नहीं
इस सवाल का जवाब तो दूर
इस सवाल की ही
कोई बुनियाद न थी
मैं बस यूँ
ही सोच रहा था
कि मेरे पास
ऐसा कुछ नहीं है
जिसके लिए मैं
या तो लड़ जाऊ
या थम जाऊ
या सारी हदें पार कर
दूर कहीं बस
यूँ ही चैन की
गोद में उस सच के
साथ कहीं खो जाऊँ
पर मेरा सच
मेरा सच इस लायक
है ही नहीं
जहां अमन के
संसार में परिंदे
खुशिया बांटते हैं
मैं सिर्फ एक
मूल कठोर सच्चाई का
अधूरा टुकड़ा सा हूँ
जिसके पास न खोने
न कुछ पाने
और न कुछ लड़ जाने
लायक सच है
सिर्फ एक उम्मीद है
शायद एक दिन
मेरे पास
वो एक सच होगा
जिस की तलाश में
राहों के किनारे पे
आसमां में उड़ते परिंदों
की संग घुलने मिलने वाली खुशी
मेरी सच्चाई का टुकड़ा होगी
शायद उस दिन मेरे पास
अपने सवाल का मूल होगा
उस सवाल का जवाब मेरा सच होगा
जिस सच की तलाश में एक दिन
दुनिया से लड़ जाने का जज़्बा होगा
उस दिन ही शायद
मैं ऐसी ही किसी और बारिश में
मेरे मन में खयालो की
खलबली होगी  
क्या दिन थे वो
जब मन में न सवाल थे
न सोच थी
था सिर्फ एक कड़वा सा
खालीपन ||

Monday, 14 November 2011

Violent

Stop it stop it, stop it
Unnecessary, noise and loud
Crackle and spout
Disturbance
You loser who needs my voice
Stop it stop it stop it
You shouting bastard
Proving pretending trying
To be smart
You sucker
Just stop it
You know it
You are a loser
And a loser
Don’t don’t don’t
Don’t try to burn my soul
In my dream
You are nothing
But pieces of organs
I am gonna
burn ‘em
Dry ‘em
Cut ‘em
Slasher ‘em
And throw ‘em
You stop trying
To hurt a
Hurt soul
That soul may
Come
Back
And crush
Each
Every
Bone
You Have
Stop it
Stop it
Stop it
Stop it
Stop
that disturbance
That kills my sleep
My blood
Is boiling
Fuming
Heating
Beating
Each
Every nerve in my head
Is
Aching
Paining
Driving me
Crazy
Axes
Saws
Drills
Swords
Blades
Guns
All existing
Weapons
I am gonna
Use
All
Those
Organs
In your body
You use,
Try
To irritate
Frustrate
Infuriate
I am gonna
Use those weapons
And all
Those organs
Will be
Bits
And
Small small pieces
And I will laugh
On your
Sadistic
Attempt
To irritate
Frustrate
Infuriate
And then those
People
Hypocrites
Losers
And
Criminals
Who killed their soul
For the fakeness
Unrealistic
Greatness
Will call me
Loose brain
Mentally
Deranged
and
Insane
When
You made me
What you wanted
I became
Violent!!

Friday, 11 November 2011

Slow


Minute slow
Time slow
World slow
Sleep slow
Voice slow
Thought slow
Mind slow
Reality slow
Body slow
Action slow
Movie slow
Story slow
Life slow
Look into my eyes
Don't you see?
I am weeping
Don't you see?
I want you to
Listen to me
Don't you see want to be heard
My expressions are dead
My faith is dead
My hope is dying
Don't you see?
My tears
Are all dried up
MY mind has stopped
My watch is broken
I am struggling through
My reality
Which is just full of
Insane images
That are insensible
Nonsensical
Overcritical
Unnecessarily
Temperamental
My blood beats my head
Beats my mind beats my heart
Beats my soul beats my conception
And in that sense
Of hyperactive injuries
My mind is hurt
And thoughtlessness
Covers whatever is
In my mind
Listen to me
What I am saying
Because soon
I will be speechless
Wordless, silent and lifeless
I am shouting
Barking
Running and
Fighting
To live
But this moment
Doesn't go
It’s there and it’s there
As if it’s there forever
To trouble me
Ruin me
Destroy me
Finish me
It’s a drag that doesn't end
And this moment just doesn't go
To hell with every single
Second when I feel my life
Is so punishingly slow

Agony


In that red blooded
Disappoinment
When I wrote my mind
I had only one thing in my mind
Losses Losses and Losses
I am tired
Tired of future unpredictable
And Past of carelessness
A future which is not in my control
I am tired of past which reflects ,
My foolishness
My joblessness
My frustration all comes out
Of my anguish against my
My mistakes of what I do
And who I am
And why I am like that
I am not sure
But I love myself
More than
Anyone else
And my happiness
I have to buy it
I can’t buy it
Because
I earn just this little
To satisfy the creator
Or keep my mind closed
My mouth closed
My eyes closed
And my ears
Closed
I have to choose either of the two
My blood speaks
Reality
I don’t have
My mind speaking
I am a dead man walking
With no thought
What so ever
My mind is white
And plain as sheet
Of cotton
On which any ink poured will be
Absorbed by fate
My words
My words aren’t mine
They are just an outcome
Of a careless soul hurt
After silliest mistakes
That reshape my mind
My  mind my mind and my mind
Isn’t mine it belongs to a
Creator I stop believing in
Why is what I ask
Why is it that I am
Who I am
Am I entitled to this
Pain, I have in my head
And my heart
My organs release a smoke
Of blooded faithlessness
And carelessness
When I stop caring for anyone
Or anyone for that matter
Why is what I ask
Why, why why?
Why I can’t buy that
Cruel reality
And convert it into
A truth I dream of
A suppressed soul
I am, fighting fate
Let’s just hope,
I kill that ache in
My head
That frustration in my
Voice
And keep dreaming
My truth isn’t cheap
And reality is harsh
So that one day
I am rich enough
To end my frustration
Kill those flames inside
Correct my foolishness
And above them all
To shatter that
Unending AGONY

Thursday, 10 November 2011

BIZZARE!!!!!!


my LOVE my LIFE
My DREAM My PASSION ARE ALL MINE,
IT is mine,  that world of broken derams
BIGGER THAN REALITY
THAT TRUTH DEAD
LONG BeYOND THAT TRAIN
GOING INSIDE WORST POSSIBLE HOLE
AND THAT MAN INSIDE BREAKING THE WALLS OF WORLD AND
LOOKING AT HIMSELF
THAT MAN ANGRY
LAUGHING
CRYING SHOUTING
fighting IN That SHITTY truth
MADE a RICH GARDEN SURROUNDED
by TRASH and GARBAGE But that GARBAGE
COMING IN
MAKING THAT MAN ANGRY MAN
THAT MAN BURNING all the FLOwers
In THAT WELL from WHICH poision COMING OUT
OF NoWherE
That LOSt IT FEELING That
KING of SelF LOst Battle OF TiME
THAT KING KnOwing HIS BADness
DROVE THAT plANE into THAT
WELL OF POSION
THAT every MAN DieD of POISION
THAT KINg TOOK ALL THE POISION
Into HIMSelf MaKING the
WORLD Pure
THE WORLD PURIFICATIOn
KILLED THE KING
THAT KING DEAD
NO ONE KNOW HIM
and EVERYONE RETURNing
THAT Poision in THat WeLL
Where THAT DeAD KinG LAy
ThaT LAST HumAN BEing
WORKINg HArd TO
LIVE, To DISCOVER
HOw Time WOuLD PASS
BUT ShouLd Time or Time SHoulDn't pass
HE NeveR Know THat
He SAID Time NEED Not PAss
LIFE MEANT SAtisfaction
LIFE NevER meant Way
TO DEath
and
LifE NeveR meaNT
I would Be Weak,
But There Are TIMES
When THaT LAsT HumAN
BeinG got WeaK and THen
IT so HAPPened
He FOUnd He Is A huMAN BeING
AND HIS EXISTANCE MATTERS!!!!As Long as Every cell IN hIS blOOD ExploDED
HE Is NO MACHINE,
THAT FEELING
ANARCHY LIES INSIDE THAT MIND
REadY To BREak FreE
NOT TO TOLERAte.......
BUt to Be SATISFIED
ThaT BIrd THat TUrned out
To be a plANE or ThaT PLane That
GLIded as A Bird
You Ain't Either,
I ain'T eITher
I Am ThaT birD
Who is ACTually A BIRd
IdenTIFIED from FAR OFF
I AM ThaT BIRD Happy FLyin'
I AM THat ANgRy Man
WHo destroyed His Garden
cuz His MInd WAs FillEd wiTh ANGER
And HE beCAme BAd
I AM ThAt BAd KING
Who KNEW his BADNess and REGRETTED
BEing BAd
I Am THat LAST HumAn
BeinG Who SUddenly DiscoVEred
tHat I geT AngrY Cause DEStructioN
I regReT and I trY to CleAN it Up
I SuddeNLY REAlized That
I STill GOt EmoTIONS
I Got MY OWN human INSTINCTS
of HAPPINESS, ANGER SAdneSS AMBiguity
I AM a HUMan Being,
as HUMAN on LAND
As A Bird In the SKY
Unpredictable AND
BIZZARE!!!!!

Broken And Burnt


BREAK AND BURN THAT EVERY BIT
MADE OF GLASS OR METAL
ITS MY BIT OF AGONY THAT CADILLAC SEXY BLACK
EVERY INCH DENTED BY BASEBALL BAT
THAT WHITE TALL BUILDING
MADE OF GLASS AND MIRROR EVERY MIRROR
SHATTERED INTO PIECES
THAT IMAGE OF A MAN SPLIT APART
THAT CLOUD BURST WILD IN AIR
THAT CLEAN SKY
RAINING HARD ENOUGH
MIND BROKEN
HEART BROKEN
BUT NEVER TOLERATE
NO RUBBISH
KILL IT IMEEDIATELY
THAT RUBBISH NEED
TO BE BURNT
BROKEN
DESTROYED
TO ITS MICRONS
THAT NO ONE
COULD TRACE
EVEN LAST OF ITS
SHINE
EVERY WINDOW MELTED AND BROKEN
AND BURNT!!!!!!!!!

Ballad of The Desert, The Rose Parlor and a 1976 Ford Mustang II

A red colour 1976 Ford Mustang
comes in into a scene where rose parlor was built
that in between a desert
came a bingo and burnt his cigar.........
rose parlor had its own history of
Every ganster that visted and had a massage
That gangster named Ben,
He came in,
wore a party suit
Where formally written
Big Bang Black long shoe
He was wavin a Blue Red Hat,
With a mighty red white jacket, and
Had 1976 colt 45 armed in his
Jacket shown black
From Inside where lied his pocket
Ben Made his ruthless stare at the Parlor
he stared long enough to be noticed
The Boss Had his eyes on that Land
But Rose had its own history with
Every gangster that visited and had a massage
but Ben ain't no every other Gangster,
Ben is the Boss of all
He takes a step forward and every
livin MO******R is aware that golden capped tooth holdin
The cigar is hotter than the cigar
Ben ain't a good guy,
Cuz Ben Wants it personal,
That red white jacket
Shown Black from inside,
with a Pocket Black brings out
a 100 Dollar bill,
Rose parlor offers a decent Massage with 1934
French wine complimentary for dollar 55,
Including service charge,
But Ben Would pay a hundred dollar written
with "I am God" in thick red ink.
That long Black shoe stepped forward
Covering 9 inches by one yard,
And evryone knows it
That rose parlor lady ain't
A fool, she ain't a personal property
And the Rose parlor Lady,
Whose father was a cobbler,
Who made shoe with his hands,
Had no nervous moment,
That Gangster was not issue,
Cuz,
She handled gun, bigga than her father's label board
that said big bang black long shoe
but she won't use it,
She knows that Gun would make noise,
And ben's men won't like noise
And Ben'e been there before,
Long back in the desert when
Only one man made shoe
His name was joe,
He made shoe of fresh
Hard leatha,
Unbreakeable long enough that his
Naughty Daughty Rose opened a parlor
but the Desert ain't a place for
Decent men, Desert makes men livin'
Through Heat and Ben is biggest of them all
And Ben want's it personal,
Joe gets nervous, Rose is confident
Cuz Rose Knows that Ben isn't here for
Bang Bang, Ben is here for love
But Rose isn't a personal Property,
And Ben Wants it personal
Evening light is less for visibility,
That 1976 bulb isn't sufficint to light up
the city,
That Light triangle glows only
Formally written BigBang Black Long Shoe
And just below that the Red Door through which one can
See Who is inside,
And Ben's eye shrinks when it looks at Rose
Rose is adjusting
The desert is as lonely as Ben
Ben got that 1976 red mustang and
One 22 something Chauffeur, Crash
Crash got a scar across his face
scar from nose to the right corner of the forehead passing through
His eye, covered by an eye pad
Crash don't speak,
For him his first love,
That car more than Ben
He keeps it safe cuz
No one else got a 1976 Red Mustang
In that desert,
And No one among Ben's Men Drive safe
But Crash, crash drove truck
When he stole a truck and ran away from anotha Desert
and landed in Ben's hand
Who petted him,
Behind that eye pad one Eye Brow
Lifted up, in agony and face twisted to left
Cuz Rose Parlor had its own history
with every Gangster that visited
and Had a massage,
Rose had never been a foolish girl,
She Had a gun,
Larger than that board that said
BigBang black long shoe
But She won't use it
Cuz it would create a lot of noise
And Ben's men would not like a lot of noise,
As anyother gangster's men would have liked
Once upon a time,
A black 1974 cadillac Eldorado parked in front of Rose parlor
A white Shirt, Grey Denim white shoe
Weld came out of the car, with 3 black
Bodyguards a dude, White Tall, Pale
Ultra Smart, with even Mind in slow motion,
Rose knew him cuz he was regular dude......
But regular dude was impatient and grinnin' Sad
Today Weld wanted to own Rose,
That she becomes Weld's personal Ride as was
His 1974 cadillac Eldorado,
But Rose wasn't a personal Property,
Rose responded Grin with a smile,
Rose Gave a lengthy massage,
Dollar 55 massage was Dollar 49 massage then,
complimented with a regular french wine,
And Rose was always great with massage,
Every inch of self got relaxed and
Weld felt a melt everywhere above the belt
where she massaged,
But today weld was here to cross his limits,
Weld loosened his belt
But the Belt was holdin his Gun too,
Rose responded grin with smile,
She snatched open that belt,
But she can't use a gun
cuz it would create noise
And Rose wasn't a foolish Girl
Rose turned on the Radio on full volume,
And Play soft music,
And Rose would give the french wine
And Rose would massage to an extent that
Weld would loose conciousness
And in his lost conciousness
Rose and Joe would suffocate him to
The End of Weld,
And then Joe and Rose would take the Guns,
One man and one girl, with one gun each,
Would wait for the guards to come in,
One of them comes in and.....
Rose doesn't shoot cuz she already sees
Only one of them coming,
She seduces the guard inside the cobbler's
Workshop, where her father waits with the tools
the rest of the 2,
Frustrated after waiting long enough,
Decide to intrude,
But once again,
Father and his naughty daughty,
were ready with 2 guns each inside,
And Bang Bang,
Rose parlor had its own history of
Every ganster that visted and had a massage
Ben Walked in to that Parlor with 2 of his
Henchmen, asking them to wait outside the Door
Cuz
Rose parlor had its own history of
Every ganster that visted and had a massage,
The 2 Henchmen were with Ben for 12 years,
And Ben trusted 'em far more than anyone else
And the Henchmen were Brothers, and were rich,
The Henchmen Bill and Jim, and wore Tuxedo, with
Brown Formal Shoes with Laces and Shotguns
in their Left and right of each other,
Standing on right and left of Each other,
Bill had pipe in his mouth he looked at
Red Mustang in front of his eyes,
Bill was rich, but he could never buy that kinda Car
So Costly, Jim was older, but he was richer,
And he too couldn't buy that Kinda car,
But both had a car,
But they never had such a car.
Bill turned his stare at Jim,
Jim too was starin' the Red Mustang
If Ben had gone Bill and Jim were the oldest
Gangsters in that desert, in between Jim and Bill
the others either became  
History cuz of Ben, or the Desert, or Poverty or That Parlor,
Jim turned to his brother
only to find he is looking at him.
Bill widened is lips to show white
Healthy Teeth, Holdin' Pipe in His mouth,
He know what needed to be done,
Rose Parlor would try to make
Ben something of the Past,
Jim would wait outside till Ben would be past
And then go inside to Be The Big guy of the Desert
And Bill, would take the driver down,
The Driver lifts his eyebrow, in agony
Waiting, for something to happen so that
The 2 brothers would go inside to save the Boss
And he would take red mustang away,
And
"AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH"
A man shouts inside,
Jim had not expected noise,
Cuz Rose Parlor had its own history
with every Gangster that visited
And Jim Knew
She handled gun, bigga than her father's label board
that said big bang black long shoe
but she won't use it,
She knows that Gun would make noise,
And bang Bang!!!!
gunfire inside
Jim looked at his brother,
Crash Fired the engine
A bit too soon,
Bill looked at Crash
Jim decides to go inside,
to Check what happened,
Crash tunrs horrified,
Bill Rushes towards crash,
He lifts up the gear
In anxiety and leaves the
Clutch too soon
The Car is turned off
Bill lifts his Shotgun,
swiftly
Goes and Stands opposite Crash,
And bang!!!!
He breaks The Red Mustang's glass,
And splat!!!!! Explodes Crashe's Head
And Bang Bang!!!!!
Sounds a shotgun,
Gunfire inside,
and Bill reloads his Shotgun,
Takes a step forward and stops,
The Remaining pieces of glass fall Down,
The Lamp, in the evening is brightest,
But it flickered,
Cuz No one bothered about,
quality of Electrical supply in Desert
No one cared even if someone killed someone in the desert
and Suddenly voice from inside
"BILL"
and bill leaves everything aside and runs,
and opens the door and shoots abruptly,
only to find he shot Jim's head, and Jim
Jim had his hands and legs wounded by a gun
Leaving him immovable on his place with his
Head blown!!!!!
And Bang!!!!
Sounds a shotgun,
Gunfire inside!!!!!!
Once Upon a time,
when Rose seduced
Ben inside Her father's workshop,
Where his father had wooden log in
His hands,
Waiting to strike The Boss' head,
To make him lose his concious,
Ben suddenly pushed Rose at the gate and
Father Struck her naughty Daughty,
She lost concious,
And Ben snatched that log,
And beat Joe
Joe Shout in agonising Pain,
And Ben was being seduced,
So Rose had taken away her jacket, so Ben
Went into the parlor, Dragging Joe and placing him on
The Door of the Parlor,
Take his gun and shoot Joe,
Jim comes inside,
Stumbles upon Joe,
Ben Snatches his shotgun,
Fires his limbs,
Adjusts him On a chair,
Just Opposite the Door
And waits in a corner,
Draws, a sharp object from the Workshop,
And waits,
Throws the object
Targetting Jim's belly,
Misses the spot and
Strikes centimeters below,
Poor Jim, out of agony,
Cries his Brother's name,
Poor Bill, out of agony
pulls the Trigger, reloads
again pulls the trigger,
Reloads
again pulls the Trigger
as soon as he enters,
Only to Blow his brother's head,
And then crosses his line of sight,
BEN with his brother's Shotgun and
Bill Looked at Ben with a Grin,
With Ben's eyes saying He'd Known
Him long enough to Identify His Envious
Partners needed to learn That Ben is
BEN cuz He is BEN,
And Ben lifts his gun and.....
BANG BANG!!!!

that in between a desert
came a bingo and burnt his cigar.........
rose parlor had its own history of
Every ganster that visted and had a massage
That gangster named Ben,
He came out,
With unconcious Rose on his shoulder,
Walked

That long Black shoe stepped forward
Covering 9 inches by one yard,

Towards his Red Mustang,
A bit stained and its glass Broken, But
It didn't bother that evening,
One Ben's rich and Two
That evening it was a bingo cuz
He was Ben
The Boss Had his eyes on that Land
But Rose had its own history with
Every gangster that visited and had a massage
but Ben ain't no every other Gangster,
Ben is the Boss of all
He takes a step forward and every
livin MO******R is aware that golden capped tooth holdin'
The cigar is hotter than the cigar.

A love to Die For


A Love to Die For
Arabian Crest is a city of dreams
And Once upon a time in the city of dreams
There was a hotel, by the sea side
In the city of Dreams
That hotel itself was a dream
To be in
Where years old billionaires
Crashed in, to discover pleasures
Outside world termed “disgraceful” and “dishonoring”
But those old billionaires had a lonely life
Earning money and respect,
Losing respect would be losing a lifetime’s worth
One day in that hotel,
Which was a dream
In the city of dreams
Came a billionaire
That hotel was a dream cuz
Its glass shined in moon,
And the tower stood like a
King in the city
Facing the sea,
Teasing the sea
For that dream touched the sky
And the sea, it just stayed there, and envied
In front of the great dream
On that evening, where 6 lights on the left
And red carpet next and next was another
6 lights on the right, behind that stood the
Dream, with the shape of a crown
A navy blue Cadillac Allanté stopped
Out of which stepped out a Billionaire
On that indigo evening, with 12 blue lights
A red carpet and a dreamy crown Hotel
Outlined with golden sparkles and tinsels
On that indigo pathway with red carpet
Walked the billionaire
Unusually handsome
Wearing a tuxedo
And a bright red necktie
The billionaire was made up
Of straight lines, and moved in
Straight lines,
The billionaire was here
For the first time
But walked as if this place
Was always familiar to him
The receptionist from far
Could guess, the guest
Would speak little
She had seen visitors like that
Before, perhaps she had seen
The world while she sat on the desk
For those many years,
But this one was slightly different
The receptionist sat on that desk
Beneath that creamy white roof with golden
Outlines and designs of birds of nature
Lightened by a bold chandelier
When that billionaire came inside
And displayed his card
Card said, Platinum and Neil
On maroon fiber, of which it was made
Receptionist knew,
This billionaire wouldn’t speak
She stood up, opened a notebook
Tore a receipt, with Platinum printed
In Edwardian, and Neil written in ink
And pointed him to the left
Where he could identify the board
Casino,
He entered and gave the receipt
To the attendant who led him to the counter
Who gave him chips worth Millions
And the attendant led him to a section
Said “Neil”
From there on, the gold was just the light
And space was simply the red.
From the chairs to the board,
To the roof to the desk
To the teasers who were dancing
Wore sparkling red,
It was joke to say they were wearing,
For whatever they were wearing,
Or whatever they were not,
But the dream was not a place for kids
Cuz inside a dream, people die and people
Survive by their choice, will and mentality
Life is a gamble, risk is the excitement
And defeat is the reason to live
In a place where shortcuts take over
Sweat, and sweat is an outcome of pleasure
Not hardwork, the billionaire, wasn’t the one
Amongst those who were there, people of his
Sorts, chose the pleasure they can buy,
And go out clean, yet this billionaire,
Was different, chose the risk,
As he did throughout his life
And took a place in front of
Ribbon, the billionaire of gamble,
Ribbon, the usually lucky
Ribbon, who won and lost lives
Cash and men, but never lost a gamble,
Ribbon, the owner of the dream
Losers sat in front of her, lost everything,
Including their honor,
Most of the times those who sat in front of her
were dishonored men, criminals and gangsters
Today, sat in front of her, a man
Who was once a kid on the street side,
Selling Hash and trash,
Till eternity lifted him,
From street side,
From selling trash, he started taking risks
He became a billionaire,
He became Kane, as they call him.
Today Kane took a seat in front of
Ribbon, inside a dream, where
People die or survive, based on their choice, will and mentality.
Ribbon looked up,
In that white light only
Thing, that shined was Kane’s face
Ribbon looked at Kane,
And she knew he isn’t here for
Gamble, every second loser comes for
Ribbon, knew that his eyes,
Needed what he wanted
For so many years
This dream, rules the city
Gamble is the ruler
Of this dream
And Ribbon, the ruler
Of gamble,
All other rich guys,
They come inside,
They enjoy and leave
But on certain faces,
It is written,
Sadness in capital
Because all the billions
They have aren’t useable,
In front of the white collared,
But, owning this gamble would
Mean owning this dream
And owning this city
Perhaps that’s why,
Ribbon was there,
The lucky bitch, as they say, to oversee
That nothing wrong happens
And this city,
Isn’t ruled by gamblers and risk takers
And gangsters
But today was different,
Kane, was a risk taker, lucky
And a billionaire, before the
Ribbon could reach
Where his opponent could
Sell his life, she had to
Cross chips worth millions of cash on board
Ribbon knew that only gamble
Wasn’t a right option to get rid of this
Rich bastard,
Ribbon, lit her cigarette,
Kane put his chips worth 500,000 on board
Ribbon, put 6
Table guy said game
Kane pulled cards
Ribbon pulled cards
Kane found a girl seducing him,
Kane enjoyed that sense of a girl and smiled
Girl started to move, but, Kane, stopped her
Kane sensed she might speak of his cards, directly or indirectly,
But what he missed was her black sunglasses
Shining and reflecting in light
Giving away his cards
To Ribbon,
Too damn obvious it was,
Kane would lose it,
Despite his great cards, and
Yet in that game of cards,
Ribbon played a bluff,
Kane had cards,
Still Kane lost and lost and lost
Despite having the luck and cards
That he could force Ribbon,
To put forth her life
On the table and lose it to
The billionaire
But Kane decided, that gamble wasn’t the right way
To make this dream his own
But the love for power
The love for being above the others
The love for being the big boss
Was a love to die for
And in the market of dreams and lives
Where life wasn’t the thing
That meant much,
Who lived, were the gods,
While humans, just exist and
Fools die, and being a God
Was the passion of those,
Who could afford being one
Kane was one of them,
And so was Ribbon,
But the dream over the years
Became too costly for anyone
Ribbon got it in legacy of its dreamer
And Kane couldn’t simply buy it,
He had to win it,
But as for now,
He was inside a dream,
That wasn’t his
And he had to play
By the rules of the dreamer if
He had to win it
Kane said Game Over
Ribbon Smiled
Kane stared at Ribbon,
Ribbon, obviously wasn’t her
Real name,
It was the name she got from the
Dreamer, A billionaire, many years back
Was old and lonely, he adopted a child
Fathered her, explained her that human beings would
In hunt for glory,
Forget having a life,
Thus, to sell small taste of life
Would be the best business of them all
He had a dream,
Which he turned into reality,
Over a period of time, that
Dream, became the life of
Many dreamers of the Arabian Crest
That child beautiful and delicate
Remembered always the importance of bonds,
Yet severe to tie together
All the strings,
As resilient as a ‘Ribbon’
As the Dreamer called her,
Became her reality
Yet those glossy Black
Eyes, and that innocent smile
Was something Kane missed
Throughout his life,
He stared and left his chair
After some time and started
To walk out
Ribbon asked, anything else
Kane replied with one word
And expressed, what he needed
He needed her
Ribbon smiled,
Left that place
Leaving gestures to
Be followed
And he followed
From Neil, to the gate of
The Casino
To the lobby of the hotel
To the pathway of the rooms
Crossing the receptionist
The receptionist,
She knew, winning
Ribbon, would be winning the Dream
And that only a man can do it
A man, man enough
She too knew what she was missing
She was missing love,
Which was denied in this dream
Yet, she knew that, if Ribbon dies
This dream would be left in hands of
Politicians, until she declares some one
To take it forward
And she hasn’t yet,
But she will
Very soon
Ribbon, took Kane inside the room,
The Room, gold, and light brown, and red bed
Candle lit chandelier, paintings, design, peacocks
And Nature, Not even a single piece of dust in the wrong place
Predictably perfect, rather, logically luxurious,
the dreamiest corner of the dream of the city of dreams
Ribbon phoned and ordered, the costliest champagne
The waiter, carried the champagne,
Went to the receptionist, for the
Slip, Ribbon had to sign,
Proof that drinks were not to be billed
Cuz the owner of the dream, ordered it
Receptionist gave him a booklet
He took the booklet inside Ribbon’s Room
Ribbon signed the slip, in the booklet,
Returned it to the waiter,
Waiter left the drinks, took the booklet,
Went to the receptionist,
Returned the booklet,
Receptionist opened the booklet,
Turned over the leaves,
Removed a carbon copy,
And drew out a sheet that declared,
Her as the next owner of the dream
Once upon a time,
The receptionist,
Went to an underground bar,
Far from anyone could discover
For it worked only in nights,
And it never had a name
Was a place for people
Looking for peace,
Yet avoiding discovery
Only those desperate for it
Could Find it, there
She discovered a rich man
The receptionist, the elegant, beautiful
Lively, yet lonely, in search of love,
From which she was with held
Found a Rich man, Handsome
Yet Lonely, not lively and reclusive
She danced, she was really lively that night,
The Rich guy just watched from a distance,
And his mind too was dancing,
Yet something kept him back
The receptionist had noticed the rich man,
And the sadness, she could empathize
It was easy for both to fall for each other
And that night and
And then nights followed,
Until one day she told the rich man
About her, and the dream,
And her own dreams,
And the man,
Who was madly in love
Instead of asking her to leave her
Dreams, joined her in her own dreams
Because sometimes, love is passionately strong
That love is a love to die for,
That was the day, the billionaire,
Stepped into a dream,
The dream,
The feel of it was different,
It was life,
Bright and sparkling,
Lively, happy, enjoyable
Something, he should own,
His mind, fickle minded mind
Fickle, he went inside Neil,
Sat in front of Ribbon,
The stern, smart, pretty
Ribbon
His mind fickle further
The innocent smile, the modesty, the honesty
The confidence, the happiness of Ribbon
The receptionist told him, he will not be able to defeat her
In Gambling,
But more than in gambling,
He lost his heart, all over again
His previous love was just,
A variety in his other plane life,
But this, this was truth,
He lost it,
He stood up return,
Leave it all in between
But Ribbon, knew how to tie all strings together
She could see sadness in his eyes,
Yet she was a businesswoman
The Dream would benefit from such visitors,
And she was, well attracted to Kane as well
Because of that sadness in his eyes,
Gentleness in his composure,
And the next thing she knew,
Was she was inside her executive room,
Serving a drink,
The Receptionist outside,
Was seeing that document
With her name written on it
As the next owner of the dream
She kept that document safe
And drew out a .45
After a drink or 2,
Kane spoke his heart,
That the booklet Ribbon signed,
Had a doc,
With his name as the next owner of the dream,
And He is now supposed to kill her
And that he didn’t want,
He wanted Ribbon,
The receptionist,
Walked down, the pathway,
Hoping, Kane must have completed his task
And one thing remains,
End Kane
She opened the dream’s
Most luxurious room’s door,
And Silence…….
In cold silence, she fell senseless
Only to be shot down by
Guilt ridden Kane, who shot
With a gun, which didn’t make noise
And started weeping, looked at the
Receptionist, who once he thought
Would be a love to die for,
And
BAM!!!!!
Kane’s head burst open, with red
As Ribbon’s gun exude smoke
As a suppressed cigar
Cuz his fickle minded, unstable
Love, was not
A love to die for.