The Cost of Vengeance

Sadness and Rage are useful things,
If you know how to transform them both
Energy is at the root of it all
And all Knowledge is Power is growth

If there is but one thing that I have learned from you,
It is that vengeance is but natural
And he who strikes, must also pay the price
All what matters is the real and actual

Well, then I hope in that moment
Before I return your dagger from my back
You give me my due credit
For acing at least your tests in diplomacy and tact.

Yes, I know I broke some precious rules,
And I understand retribution had to follow
But what you don’t know, my dear friend of old
Is that Vengeance has always been my motto

You never knew the me before this me,
Never saw past gray rags and this cloak of red
You don’t understand, dear sandbox prince
The Vengeance against my own name that I have led.

There is no forgiveness for betrayal, nor has ever been
And you can see the punishment I chose for myself
Run, little lost prince, run away somewhere far from here
When pathos turns to wrath, to pay, there will be Hell.

An Ancient Story

(Part – I)

In ancient tales

from long ago

Before the Dragons

and the endless cold

There was a flame

born in the midst of a storm

with rage serving as purpose

and chaos, the norm

She lived by the ocean

worshiping the sea

Always burning

in an unsatiable need

And each time she rode out

for hunt or for play

Her need made her stumble

in a cold too gray

And her sister of the winds

came to her in a dream

to tell her of a distant land

of freedom, strawberries and cream.

So she packed up her bags,

stood up and began to try

to reach that land so far away

Until she learnt to fly.

And then when she dreamt of a stone

at the center of the World

glowing oh-so endlessly

waiting for some angry girl

So she pulled on her gauntlets

and led out her steed

said her quick goodbyes

and ran off  to see

just what it was

that made this stone bleed

a fire so hot

even she could feel the heat.

The DMRC needs to STOP its illegal witch-hunt of teens and pre-teens and instead identify the perpetrators who have ILLEGALLY shared the information of individuals on pornographic websites

So, I’m not sure if you guys have heard about this, but footage from the Metro stations of the Indian capital, Delhi, has found its way on to porn websites. Mind you, I’m talking about teenagers, and pre-teens, filmed fooling around on empty platforms because our society is too fucked up to allow them to actually visit each others’ homes in order to even touch other, forget about intimacy!

Are you all mind-fucked yet, friends, Indian and countrymen? Well, it gets better. Now, instead of identifying the criminals who have committed the illegal act of uploading these videos, the DMRC actually has the audacity to try and identify the youngsters so that it can file FIRs against them!

What the actual FUCK? Those couples should be suing DMRC! What kind of a messed up society do we live in? Everybody’s a wannabe self-righteous jackass. Gyah! I can’t take it anymore! Flamethrowers are the only solution!!!

Though, in all seriousness, I repeat: Those couples should be suing DMRC! No self-respecting judge will allow this voyeuristic bullcrap to pass off as implementing decency. It’s only indecent because people were watching, the said people being perverted DMRC officials. Seriously, if someone wants to file a case against the DMRC, please, tell me, and I’ll get you in touch with a lawyer who can kick their privacy-violating ass all the way to hell.

The Rapist Scum of U.P., India

Find someone attractive? Just follow her home with your “friends”, barge in when she’s alone and rape her to your heart’s content. Doth the lady protest too much because you’re a ugly fucking asshole? Set her on fire and let her die.

Or are you more of an outdoors-man – oops – rapist? [You don’t get to call yourself men if you are no better than filthy, diseased cancerous cells plaguing the rest of our society.] Well, if the great weather and better escaping opportunities are your thing, then find a National-level athlete and “tease” her. If she protests? Why, run her over with your car, of course!

Or do you think all of this is too risky? Would you prefer assaulting someone who can’t fight back at all? What is all this protesting and fire and running people over? Well, in that case, be a sick, pathetic, vile little less-than-human pig, and rape an infant, the younger the better. Oh, the number of years your soul shall wander Hell. *laughs* Three thousand sons wouldn’t get you salvation, Asshole. What kind of God do you think would forgive such a thing? Just because you’re a messed up @#@&#@^ coward, doesn’t mean your God is a dirty pig too. Ha! In fact, I keep my faith in the fires of hell that are burning for you.

Moksha, it seems. Your skin should be slowly peeled off with hot iron knives, before your flayed body is dipped in tar and venom. May your screams resound endlessly, rapist-murderers. And may your death make you cry a million times before claiming you.

God, how I hate those who prey on children.

You disgust me.

I loathe you.

I Can’t Take it Anymore [said the Pied Piper]

The Murdering
The Raping
The Torturing
The Terror
The Violence
The inability to stop involving the children!

There’s this theory scientists are looking into that suggests that our Universe might just be a giant computer program. There’s another theory that says that human beings existed longgg ago, even indulging in Nuclear warfare. All over the world, unexplained, mysterious ancient artifacts have been discovered that at least point towards the fact that we don’t know everything about the past. To me, these two theories could co-exist, as could they with the theory bout aliens watching over our planet. The reason I bring this up is because I like to believe that some of our older tales and information have trickled down from these futuristic ancestors of ours.

For instance, take the story of the Pied Piper of Hamlin. Long story short, there’s a village of lazy, greedy people that get affected by a plague. Being lazy, they do nothing about the situation until it gets utterly out of hand. At which point in the story, the Pied Piper makes his entrance. He plays music for the people, but finds them super-stingy. It’s only the children that stop to listen to him. And, then too, they’re most often dragged away by their parents. Then, noticing a couple of reward-on-getting-rid-of-rats signs, the piper goes to the palace/mayor and claims that he can rid the city of the rats in 2 days (or something). The people smirk at him, and agree.

That night, the Piper gets up, and starts playing a soft tune. He plays in his room for a bit, and then steps out, his lips never leaving the pipe. As he walks through the village, slowly, rats start filing out of hidden nooks and crevices, falling into line behind him. The piper plays and plays, and the rats continue to pour out, as if in a stream, and slowly, yet surely, the piper begins to lead his absurd following towards the river. As he stands by and plays, one after the other, the rats leap off the stone bridge to their doom, and the few villagers awake to witness this, shudder and bar their doors.

The next morning, the piper goes up to the council/mayor and asks for his reward. “What reward?”, says the mayor, feigning ignorance.

The piper’s eyes grow cold. “The rats are gone.”

“Yes, and?”, asked the mayor, even as the greedy, stingy people looked on. “What had you to do with it?”

“I got rid of them, like I said I would.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” said the mayor.

“Are you sure?” asked the piper softly, head bent low so that his cap prevented anyone from looking into his eyes. “You’ll regret this.”

“Are you threatening me?!”, asked the mayor. “Guards!”

The pied piper raised in hands in a non-threatening gesture, and slowly backed out of the packed hall, which let out a collective sigh of relief. Something about that man was very unnerving.

…

That night, when the inhabitants of the town are fast asleep, a beautiful tune starts to sound in the night air, soft enough to not wake a soul. Except, one by one, in every house, the children start to wake up. Quietly, they drop out of their beds. Stealthily, they sneak out of their homes. One by one, every child turns around and bolts the door shut. The pied piper continues his song, and the children fall in line behind him.

By now, parents have begun to notice their children missing. At first, they worry. Upon finding themselves locked in their little houses, they begin to panic. The fear spreads through the town like wildfire. “Look! There they are!”, screams a little boy’s mother, pressed against her window and pointing out into the distance.

Faint strains of the piper’s song can still be heard by villagers.

“He’s going to drown them!”, sobs another mother, even as her husband falls into a faint.

But the piper turns away from the river where the rats had leapt to their end, and starts moving towards the nearby mountains.

By now, some of the parents have managed to free themselves. Soon, most of the town is free, and they rush up and down, collecting torches and horses to ride out after their children before the night swallowed them whole.

Meanwhile, the children hadn’t looked back once, their eyes focused on their leader with the strange hat and the musical pipe. If any of them had bothered to turn around, they would have been surprised to see how far they had come, certainly further than most of them ever previously had.

Except for one boy. The town’s only cripple, the lame child had fallen behind as the trail of children followed the pied piper up the winding mountain path.

Soon, he was the only one the search party that was sent out to find the kids could see.

The pied piper, along with all the children of the village – they just vanished into thin air. When the distraught parents finally reached the crippled boy,  they found him standing and staring at the side of a mountain, tears streaming down his face. “They didn’t wait for me.”, he finally said, sounding as if his world had shattered.

The parents of the village were inconsolable, and wished that they had done right by the pied piper, but they never saw him, nor any of heir children, ever again.

~~~ The End ~~~

Okay, so that was pretty much long story long, but, well, I like telling stories. And, since it has been forever since I last read the Pied Piper of Hamlin, it’s more like a cover than the real story. I’m sure I got a hundred things wrong. Just think of it as the modern retelling.

Anyhow, the reason I brought up the tale of the Pied Piper, as well as the theories about computers/aliens, is: What if this story isn’t just a metaphorical reference to the fact that children will leave you if you stifle their fresher spirits with your jaded talk of wealth while they still believe in dreams?

I personally think it’s an allegorical reference to Moses and his leading of the people into the desert in the quest for the promised land. Or the advent of Christianity after the Jewish community unfairly treated Christ, who dealt with it so well, that nearly all of their children “left” to “follow” him.

Either way, I think if Aliens are involved (or a supercomputer program, or God-like futuristic ancestors), the implications of this story would be a lot more straightforward.. and a lot more sinister.

Treat your children right, or we will take them from you.

If humanity doesn’t change its ways, the planet will either find a way to destroy us, or we, the planet. The virus will most likely affect our ability to reproduce, counting on the barbaric nature of man to ensure it’s spread across the globe.

And we will die.

Sometimes I think that is the only way to stop the screaming in my ears.

How can you stand it?

Sometimes I think that to die would be more of a relief than an adventure..
Especially when I think of the children.
Our descendants should be ashamed of us…
and if they are not, then we should be ashamed of them.

Dear Mankind (Draft 1)

You talk of shackles and bars
but, what do you really know of chains?
You talk of thunder and lightning,
but, tell me, what do you know of rains?
Of summer and winter, but have you
ever been scorched so much
to know that both fire and frost
kiss with the same cold touch?

You talk of love and romance,
but you don’t have a clue
of the feeling it always ends in
that deep burning blue
You talk of honor and shame
and things that wouldn’t mean a thing
if there was no guilt and blame,
if there was no joy in sin.

You think growing older must be the same as growing colder
You think you’ve moved on, but you’ve got chips on your shoulder
You might have a halo, but that’s only coz you’re a devil in disguise
Hungry, and wrathful, and nursing his pride.

And the wrong things make you happy,
while the right things make you sad
and you only like women
because they can be so bad
even whey seem so good
like the little mermaid, so bold
and little red riding hood
and other girls who don’t do as they’re told.

Oh, the World has it backwards
women aren’t looking to tame men
It’s men who have always been fighting the wild
And the forests are dying
Babies, orphaned and crying
But the wild’s truly alive in the woman, and child.

To all my fallen brethren,
(hush now, my darlings, gender’s just a word
and we must choose our battles
to justify this bloody sword,
but the truth shall remain ours
we fight in your name
vengeance surely isn’t
only a man’s domain)
may you not have died in vain
May your spirits find rest
even as they drive us past disdain
May you forgive our celebrations,
and bless our joy
And may we never forget
what must be destroyed.

You’re only so cruel because you’re afraid
afraid of the mirror that spilled blood has remade
Afraid of your reflection, which shall show you the monster you are
a wretched limp coward by yourself, pretending to be so hard
Well, go ahead with your friends, and bury your sins,
burn them all alive if you dare
But, we’ll keep counting, until it’s one too many
and, you know, we’ll always be there.

You talk of shackles and bars,
but what do you know of cages?
Pretty, and old, and broken, and gold
and in all shapes and sizes through the ages..
We know the insides of them all
though you may be more familiar with the keys
Tell me, what is the rain worth to you?
What of the cool autumn breeze?
We need to be free now,
not protected, just equally free
You talk of philosophy and science,
but tell me, what do you know of me?

Two Cats in the Moonlight

Once upon a time, on a moonlit night, two cats got into a fight, over humanity’s fate, and the feline race, and whether choosing sides was right. The female cat scratched the male cat’s face, and bleeding pride, he left the alley for life.

Years later, with a scratch upon his face, the same Tomcat was strutting down a street, when he ran into a collared scrawny she-cat who lay dying, barely able to meow, or speak.

“Holy Fuck, it’s you”, he exclaimed, surprised beyond belief. But, the she-cat, she just looked upon him with dimming eyes and breathed, “Be careful, they don’t like cats anymore”, her voice all shaken with grief.

And, the Tomcat, he pawed at her face, but the warning had cost her her life. And in the same moonlight, he howled like a wolf in the night, and ran back home to his plump human wife.

Why I still torment myself over the Delhi Gang-Rape case

Read this article today: ‘India Rape Victim’s Friend Describes Their Love Story‘

I don’t know why I do this to myself. But, I think, what kind of person would I be, if I didn’t even have the courage to read about the sort of pain that these two endured. People my age. Our age. What happened to them was wrong. Not unfair, not unlucky, just plain wrong.

A lot of people say that the men on the bus were monsters. And that they deserve the worst kind of death possible. But, I disagree. I disagree because these men were not monsters, but simply a product of OUR society. A society where even our irresponsible politicians irresponsibly throw around the words that even the rapists that night picked up on. “Why are you out alone at night?” “Why are you alone with a boy?”

It’s the sick sort of mentality that pervades our society. ‘If she can be with him, why not with me?’ It’s the attitudes of a million mothers when they justify their son’s uncouth, uncivilized behavior by saying, ‘If she was dressed that way/out at that time/with a boy without being married, she should have expected that.’ It’s a society where female nurses commiserate with new-parents over the birth of girl-children. The society where the boy gets the best, because he is the boy, no matter how much of an ass he might be as a person. The society where a woman has to keep her head down, cook food, and produce children. A society where a man has no incentive to be decent even to find a wife, because his maa will find him a rishta.

This is the society that raped her. The society that got so infuriated that a woman dared to tell those men to back off, and not touch her. The society that retaliated to a bite on the arm in the middle of aggravated sexual assault by using the iron rod in what would be a laughable demonstration of their own insecurities, were it not so horrible, brutal and tragic.

Men of India who rape, women of India who condone it, where is this coming from? What kind of culture permits you to be this way? It’s disgusting. It’s revolting. And it has gone on for far too long.

Enough.

That’s why I’m still following this case. Because, it breaks my heart every single time I learn anything new about them. The fact that she was a petite 23 yr old who held hands with a boy she called ‘The Perfect Man’. The fact that he insisted they stay back at the mall for just a few more minutes, but she was in a hurry to return home. The fact that the kid, the juvenile who penetrated her with an iron rod moments after, first called her Didi (elder sister) to entice the couple on to the bus. If what I need to keep this rage alive is to have my heart broken again and again by the same shameful incident, then so be it. Because, it is not the six men alone who brutalized this girl as old as me, and a Million times braver; It was our society. MY society. And, in the middle of all the shame, rage and guilt, it is her determination to live, on her terms, that I cling on to.

As educated citizens of this society of ever-growing filth, it is our responsibility to never turn away. And I won’t. I swear it, Sister.

I want to say, ‘Don’t rest in peace. Haunt us. I know you’ve done more than anyone should ever have had to. But, do this too. Don’t leave us in peace until we’ve fixed this. Invade our dreams, and turn them all into nightmares, so that no one can dare forget the cost of this fight, nor its value.’ But, on the eve before her final cardiac arrest that left her brain dead, she signaled to her family, signaled because they had hurt her so bad that she couldn’t even speak, that she was going to heaven. On Christmas. So, instead, all I have to say is that I hope you made it. And, that you don’t have to worry about us. Things will Change. I swear it. And, when they do, I hope we have the decency to remember you. Not as a nameless rape victim, but someone so full of life, someone who fought back so hard, someone so determined to live, that she shamed the rest of us into a rage fueled reaction. Late, and selfish, but a reaction nonetheless.

So, I guess what I’m really trying to say is.. Sorry. And, thank you. ♥

Why belonging to Delhi should not be a Source of Pride

Note: It’s not like I loathe Delhi. Well, okay, I do sort of loathe Delhi, but the tone of this article, it’s only a rant. An angry rant that’s been bubbling inside me for years and years, after every 3 months that I spent in Delhi, annually. The City has its moments, I’m sure it does. But, when all of its people love it so very much, and express it so intensely, I can’t help but take the extreme opposite stance. I am the Devil’s advocate. Hypocritical, in that she only extremely pursues ideas she already believes in, but, give her an underdog in need of defending, and no one can ever go to more extreme or dramatic lengths. umm. It’s a flaw. So, anyway, no offence meant, Delhiites, except where it’s obvious. Yeah. You guys need to fix that.

I don’t like Delhi. It’s hostile and fake and the people who’ve lived there all their lives are so proud of the fact, it’s a mix of little-scary and very disgusting.

But, by all means, yay for the chaat and aalu parathas and all the monuments built a thousand years ago that smoke and pollution and people have determinedly destroyed! Love that culture, if you must, but let no one take pride in this city within a month of what happened.

If you all recall, the girl was lying, bleeding, on the side of the road for nearly two hours while people drove by, gawking and staring in that horrid way that people from that city believe they are automatically entitled to simply because they have eyes. The DELHI police refused to help her into the PCR van, and her injured naked friend had to do it instead, because the police didn’t want blood on their uniforms.

I mean, seriously, what is everyone from this city so proud of? The roads??

Well, I’m talking about the people! The undeniable truth! We’ve been to places all over this country! The kind of hostility that the Delhi gaze has, no other city in this nation compares. It isn’t about “a few rotten apples” or a “few stray incidents”. When we’re all being proud of things, isn’t it important to know just what we’re being so proud of? And, maybe we’re all being proud of the wrong things.

It’s a possibility, don’t you think? Just like the possibility that Delhi is actually a lovely, friendly, forgiving city that doesn’t worship clique mentalities and money and actually cares about each other on the street (to even a tiny amount over giving a fuck), and most importantly, is open to people who don’t fit in any of the ideas that the city has of the people who’re supposed to inhabit it. Or however the fuck that works. *shrugs* 

My point is, what I *loathe* about Delhi is just how proud people are for having lived in a territory for the longest time, about things that they have no control over. And how it changes everyone who *ever* lives there. It’s akin to being forced into a box, and if you resist, the City will cheerfully cut off whichever limb is in the way of fitting you in that box, and the people will cheer by the sidelines. That’s what I hate.

And, yes, I am not proud of India for the absence of the Rule of Law, I’m ashamed of how far the educated citizens of this state have allowed the Nation to fall as long as their immediate rights were protected, I’m disgusted by the kind of mentality that seems to be prevalent along the majority of its citizens. I’m horribly apologetic and deeply disturbed by the communal riots, and the State sanctioned anti-sikh riots of 1984. I’m saddened to think of the fact that while thousands died of hunger, food lay rotting in and around our godowns, bound by bureaucratic red-tape and feeding only rats. I’m offended by the reality of people from MY country pausing in the middle of slaughter to ask their victims what religion they belonged to. I’m ashamed of the way we treat our minorities, and the simultaneous pride we seem to take in our “diversity”.

But, I’m proud of the fact that we made a killer constitution that has actually held this fragmented sub-continent together! I’m proud of the leaders that sat together and conducted their constitutional debates wherein they laboriously went over every word, every concept, in order to ensure that their intentions could never be misunderstood! I’m proud of the fellow Indian who gave a jacket to the Tribal girl who was stripped naked and beaten up by other fellow citizens of ours, despite being turned on by the angry mob for doing so. I’m proud of every dead whistle-blower that our State could not protect, and I’m proud of the two authors who went ahead and read out portions of Salman Rushdie’s book despite fearing for their lives. I’m proud of the logic behind the colors on our flag, and the nice people of Delhi who give jackets to stray dogs on the Street in Winter. And, I’m proud to have access to first World opportunities despite living in a clearly third-world country. And, I’m proud of the changes my college, and people from my college (also Indians) are making in the World. I’m proud of the unrelenting activists, and the people fighting corruption, and all the outrage that this incident brought forth from the public.

But, until, as a people, we can feel ashamed of the things “our people” are capable of, things will never change. And, as long as we keep defending entire systems as a whole, on some level we’re legitimizing the wrong things that do happen. Especially when it comes to attitudes and mentalities.

I mean, be proud, na. Love it! Like it’s said, Everywhere you go, there’s lots to love and hate. But, the things that bother me about Delhi, they sicken and frighten me to my core. So, please understand if I can’t just sit down and swallow it when someone tells me how Delhi is a fabulous city, or how proud they are to belong from there.

Just voicing my polite dissent.

To My Perverted (not in the good way) Brethren

WordPress provides you with this list of search terms that people have used to access your blog. Some of the things I’ve read… well, it just makes me sick. But, on the bright side, I’ve realized that quite a few perverts actually chance upon this page. And, that’s the bright side because now I can talk to them!

Let’s start with this piece of news: Indian techie convicted for allegedly groping woman during flight. Sigh. What is so abjectly wrong with our country that, as a rule, most men here feel a literal sort of entitlement over the body of a woman anywhere within arms reach? I’ve been pondering over this question deeply, and the prevalent attitudes of people (men & women both) that seem otherwise sane just don’t cease to astound me. So, I’ve put together something like an FAQ for the people who should ideally get their heads examined. With an axe.

Q. “Why would she dress like that if she didn’t want someone to do something to her?”

A. Why would you buy an expensive car, or drive it around? Because you have worked hard to afford it, and you want people to see you that way, because it makes you feel good and confident. For the slow ones here, the woman is not the car in this scenario; No, you are the woman, and the car is like the woman’s clothes. It’s an individual freaking choice made by a woman that has nothing to do with any of you, you self absorbed pigs! Do you take your car to broken down places? No! Because you think the locality is so full of criminals, they might steal it. In other words, when you tell a woman to cover herself up, you’re saying that you are all rapists, and will attack her the moment you see a bit of skin? Are you that seriously deprived? If you are, go visit the last question. It’ll explain what you should do.

Q. “Why would she be alone with a man if she wasn’t interested in sex?”

A. Fuck you. For even asking that question. I’m going to dedicate an entire post to this problem, which my country doesn’t seem to have identified collectively yet. This pathetic sense of envy and idiocy that rapists in India have in abundance: The belief that if a woman is willing to be with one man, why not them? Why not? I’ll tell you why not, you disgusting pathetic scum!! Because you’re a sick, good-for-nothing, worthless, ill-mannered, primitive, perverted, desperate, creepy tool who cannot comprehend the simple fact that NOBODY wants you because you DISGUST everyone. This sense of cheap envy is palpable all across this country. In fact, you might just be safer alone, or with another girl. It’s like men here see you with a boy, and they 1) Automatically assume you are sleeping with him (or why else would you be together?), followed by 2) “If you can sleep with him, what’s wrong with me?” Disgusting.

Q. “What should you do if you see a woman, and she is dressed in a way that turns you on?”

A. Control yourself. Are you an animal in heat? She owes you nothing, loser. And, trust me, you are the *LAST* person she’s trying to dress up for. In fact, she’s dressing up nicely despite the fact that creeps like you are roaming the streets. And, do you know why you’re so frustrated? Because, inherently, you realize that you are so untrustworthy and pathetic that people wouldn’t come near you dressed in the way you find so appealing. Well, from a non-hostile point of view, perverts, don’t you think the answer to that is at least pretending that you aren’t so  horny and savage that you want to fuck everything that has a female pulse? Let’s ignore the fact that you have mothers, sisters or wives; God only knows how you treat them. But, don’t you have any women friends? Don’t you think that’s fucked up?? It’s because people like you make society believe that men & women should be kept separated to keep them from “lusting” after each other. But, the truth is that if you had even one woman friend, who you actually interacted with as a human being, you wouldn’t be this pathetic at comprehending that you are a criminal for assaulting a woman, no matter what she’s wearing or who she’s with. Please, all you have to do to end this pathetic, disgusting predicament is *stop* being depraved. If you clean up your act, and behave yourself, and meet girls your own age, you’ll realize that they’re not that different from you, and they’ll realize the same. That’s the only hope for this country, sadly. In the hands of the perverts..