Breathing Literature📚

"A book is a dream that you hold in your hands" - Neil Gaiman

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Delusional

Hi there, my name is Mr XYZ and yes that is a made-up one. I want to share a just thought of my mind which could be irrational but at the same time could be a really grave issue for someone.December 18th, 2019I was conversing with a friend of mine, whose name also I cannot reveal. The topics of the discussion were merely focused on our so profound images of the other students of the class (You…

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Short film

SCRIPT:  RIGHT TO CHOICE  Beginning: Timelapse of sunrise and scene fades in then fades out to scene 01  INT. BEDROOM, HOME- MORNING  SCENE 01  This is the home of ABHAY, a 16-year-old teenager who is getting ready for school. He hastily ties the shoelaces of one of his right shoes and then without tying the other shoelace hops around to the dressing table. He moves his hand to pick up the…

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Is there a theory of everything? More or less.

Is there a theory of everything? More or less.

Image source: Google An eerie silence followed in the room while she kept rolling the two broken pieces of a chalk like a toddler trying to spell something. She then raised her head. “Professor Denis told me that you were also a physicist?”, Nikita questioned. “Yes, I was. But I prefer being a counsellor now. I like talking to people.” Ridhima replied in a temperate tone with a perfect smile.…

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The making of a 'beast' in Deepa Mehta's Earth 1947

The making of a ‘beast’ in Deepa Mehta’s Earth 1947

I will be drawing the cartography of the movie 1947 Earth by Deepa Mehta and in doing so I shall be laying out the base for the next section where my team members will be pitting the movie against the hypo text ie, Ice Candy man by Bapsi Sidhwa. To start let’s understand the basic plot that the movie follows, it talks about the partition of India and how the protagonist, Lenny, witnesses the…

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ENOLA HOLMES: A MULTILAYERED NEW ERA FEMINISM

ENOLA HOLMES: A MULTILAYERED NEW ERA FEMINISM

“As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman’s thinking” – Virginia Woolf. Apologies Ms Woolf but our very own Enola Holmes(played by Millie Bobbie Brown) blows this sentence away with a new one: “As long as she thinks independently of her own path, no matter whoever objects to her, she’ll make her path rather splendidly.” Enola Holmes, yes people, is the new talk in town; A…

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How the Beatles Revolutionised the Music Industry

How the Beatles Revolutionised the Music Industry

                 Know the story from the perspective of the fifth Beatle, George Martin. AIM: TO ESTABLISH HOW THE BEATLES EXPERIMENTED WITH NEW WAYS OF MODERNISM AND THUS GAVE AND LIVED A NEW POST-MODERNISM PERIOD WITH ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES OF MUSIC AND ART. “The first time I met “the boys” was on 6th June 1962 and I listened to their songs like ‘Please, please me’, and I was not really…

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To the creature with a "burning forehead and a parching toungue"

A pronet?

"Intriguing, isn't it?

The disparity in times.

The varations in thy ideologies.

Thy fake acceptances;

And indeed,

Duplicit mind's reluctances.

Perplexed, thy must be?

For thy aid,

Here lies the answers you seek;

Whilst I paint,

Our shallow " Millennial's era" &

Those pretentious minds as meek.

Here, take a seat!

And witness some inquisitions meet. "

" WHY"

Why? - Why is so stiff,

to accept a being?

Or why, to even inherit the term "Gender"?

To create these disparities, those communities,

While we failed to mender.

Or

Why? - Why is there an existence?

- An existence of shallow fragments,

- An existence of narrow norms,

- Or an existence for the " seed of humanity" to perish?

Or

Why? - Why do we need to protest?

- while all our religions taught, "We are equals"; Are we?

" There is a belief of hope and it is called 'God'. "; So why to distinguish an atheist or a believer?

So why to blink out humanity every second?

Or

Why? - Is there a need for acceptance?

- An acceptance for love.

-An acceptance for care.

Or an acceptance to be together?

Or

Why do people like me hide?

- Hiding behind devices;

-Hiding behind cryptic poems;

- Hiding behind these walls that say,

"You're weird! "

"You're a sociopath! "

"You're so antisocial! "

"You're such an introvert/ambivert/extrovert! "......

AND

Why? - cannot a person be just real and just admire a bit of John Mayers, a bit of Prateek Kuhad, a bit of Martin Garrix, a bit of " When chai met toast" or all those itsy-bitsy peoces modules?

And still be accepted!

- Why to frame?

-Why to judge? &

Why to actually ponder over some ruminations?

And why not enjoy our tea with some of John Keats poetries, and listen to when he says,

"When old shall this generation waste,

Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thous say'st,

'Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all ye know on earth& ye all need to know. '"

For we are the creatures with the burning foreheads and parching tongues;

Stiff enough to distinguish,

But weak to actually exist in real.

-----

(Art by - Afnan Raza)

-----

[arandomguys-blog]

I was eight, when I saw those demons.

The monster's who haunted my family's minds. They were not imps, ghosts or vampires.

They were even the most ferocious of all.

I still remember:

One was called "PATRIARCHY" and HE subjected that I should let him feed on my soul, otherwise,he would murder my sisters and would take control of my brother's mind too.

Gulping fear deep down in my oesophagus,

I did so.

The other was "MISOGYNY", and HE menanced me by ripping out my throat one day with his " masculine" teeth and said if I shall not let him feed on my "Endurance" then he shall feed on my friends' too.

Letting my endurance lose against evil,

I did so.

And I did so..

Again and again.

But the most pretentious and diabolical one was "ACCEPTANCE".

He tricked me into his trickstery of support and care and let me make new friends, " EQUALITY" and "OPEN MINDEDNESS".

" Equality" was the most beautiful damsel that I could not take my eyes off and "open mindedness" was the best comrade I ever came across. I enjoyed my world of Unicorns and gleefulness.

Until one night, when the darkness was at his peak and the moon was at its full. And all my decorated yellow lamented ambers turned into black diamonds of some evil occult.

He then showed his true form.

He rose from the shadows,

eviler that the Lucifer himself and crippled my body and made me watch the torture of " EQUALITY AND OPEN-MINDEDNESS".

Then he fed on them as if a monster was unleashed onto humanity after ages.

He fed.

He fed, and fed...

Until there was just pitch black blood, thicker even than those shallow narrow norms of your minds, gushing all around in the world.

He finally rose and looked me in my eyes as if peeping into my soul and gloated ,

"I am SOCIETY, and this is my reign. "

[arandomguys-blog]

My happy place.

Whenever anomia hits me, I always flee, scrutinize for a door of escapism, a momentary pause

But i always fail to reckon my happy place and then moments of uneasiness cease my throat for some cause.

A gulp of goth fights my longing for a happy place and comes out to seek and perish that moment of escapism

And while the world around me stares, my mind starts exhibiting resistentialism.

Taken aback with such enormous emotions exploding inside my tummy, ready to ponder out any moment

But alas! to my rescue comes my sociopathic self, a resilient and stiff fragment of me ready to end this weakness and this world's lament.

At that moment when my sociopathic OCD fills up my fights for me and carry me to escape

In those moments of easiness I get to rest in happy place cave.

_________________________________________

Now you must be perplexed with the concept of these poetic words and rhymes and looking for some abstract meanings or justifications in your mind.

Remember all those moments when you were shot down by the world so hard that even your senses momentarily stopped, and that was the moment when to your rescue you looked for a happy place. For some of us, it's being alone watching our favorite series or a movie scene on repeat, or maybe listening to our playlist on repeat. Maybe for you it's just lying down on your bed all alone, doing nothing, being a mere nobody in that moment.

But these are just moments of weaknesses slowly conjuring up your self, making you shut the whole world behind your back.

But remember what Van Gogh said, "If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint then by all means paint and the voice will be silenced. "

Same if the answer to where your real happy place lies.

P. S. Mine is when I write something from heart while drinking those moments of happiness from my cup of tea.

_____________________________________________

[arandomguys-blog]

A Dead Poet and the lamenting photographer.

Remember the days when maa used to shout at us for not keeping our chores mended. And the ones where Papa used to give us a scolding of words which fell even louder than the bursting of that basketball which we loved like the Wolverine's heart for moon..

These were just the wonted ones.. The ones which caused more pain were the ones filled with the fightings of papa and maa... Shrieks crossing the mist as if shots were exchanged and while the battle peaked ,all we did was gaze silently at the poison ivy's leaves romancing with the air with tears of hope and gloom coming out. Irony exists!

The worse ones were not filled with fights or broken toys.. But the ones where we were abdicated to follow our dreams to pen down the most beautiful poetries and click the most gleeful portraits..

They were murdered by our parent's stiff words killing slowly and slowly, piercing through their heart.. Our hearts..

Because we are the dead poet and the lamenting photographer.

[arandomguys-blog]

AAKHIR BAAT HAMARI ZINDAGI KI JO HAI! ⁣ ⁣ Jab sabne poocha ki kaise likhte ho?..⁣ Kya soch kr likhte ho ya yeh khayal kaha se aate hai...⁣ ⁣ Toh bata nahi saka unhe.. Kabhi taal matol ke..ya kabhi baaton ko ghuma kr, jisme toh ham hai hi mahir.... Yhi sb krke bach kr nikalte rhe unke sawaalon se.. ⁣ ⁣ Aaj uss sawal ki khoj ko pura krna chahta hu..⁣ Aaj iss bechaini ko jad se keech kr logo ke saamne patak dena chahta hu.. Ki who samjhe ar kabhi dobara yeh na pooche ki “Are dost likha acha par… kaha se socha? “⁣ ⁣ ⁣ “SCHOOL.. School ke baad jb ghar ke gate pr khade hokr "mummy mummy" chillate the.. Ar chat se aawaz aati thi ki "aa re!!".. ⁣ Ar jb shaam mein doodh ki jagha papa ka dekha dekhi hm bhi chai maangne ki zid krne lage.. ⁣ Ar jabse us chai ke cup ke saath kai khayal bhi aane lage..⁣ Aise khayal ki kabhi kabhi toh who parle-g ka biscuit andar hi gir jata tha..ar maano tapp se dheere se saans ruk si jati thi Par phir hansi bhi aati thi.. ⁣ ⁣ Phir chai ke cup se aage badhe toh uski jagh zindagi mein aayi coffee ke mug ne le li..⁣ Ab raaton mein neend bech kr coffee ki ar poore Marvel, DC ki duniya ko chakhne ki koshish krne lage…⁣ ⁣ Phir aa gyi zindagi mein kuch aisi sadaken ki jispr bhi jate toh life ban jati..⁣ Par hmne toh chuna hi toote hue raaston ko.. ⁣ Anjam aise hue ki coffee ban gyi casual relationship wali girlfriend ar chai… toh bhai pyaar! “⁣ ⁣ Ab aap yeh soch rhe honge ki bhai sawal toh inke likhne ke tarike ar khyaalon se tha toh yeh apni zindagi mein chai ar coffee ar school ka zikr kyu le aaye?⁣ ⁣ Toh janab jawaab bhi sedha sa hai.. ⁣ “Inhi se hm likhna sekhe hai ar inhi se hm zindagi ko tod kar nichod kar jeena bhi seekh rhe hai.. “⁣ ⁣ Kaafi dramatic ho gya ni? ⁣ Par chalta hai.. Aakhir baat hmari zindagi ki jo hai!! https://www.instagram.com/p/CAUcDGcjIuO/?igshid=4gt6sh821ntn

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“AN ELEGY FOR ALL MY DEAD POEMS..”

I do not blame anyone of you for ghosting my thoughts-

Thoughts that could have framed a beautiful poetry

Thoughts that could have painted a character and his bewildered nature in a story

I understand the pain and agony you all must have.

After all the rumination and obsession with each one of you

After giving the best hopes and dreams,

Dreams of getting  kissed by a pen over a old dusty notebook’s page

It was hard for me to relinquish my ‘mind boggling poetries’ too.

But you must understand that I had to take all your lives away

I had to murder your dreams and all of yours love stories…

But in the process

I also lost some fragments of my whole self too

With each one of you getting their lives slowly drained from my mind

With each one of you witnessing their love stories end in an excruciating way….

I also started dying over and over again

Because I lived in each one of you…..

I was the POETRY…

And the POET!

[arandomguys-blog]

Hi!

What if I said I can make a premonition about your future?

Just follow my instructions. Trust me you won't regret it.

Step 1- Close your eyes and picture the deplorable teacher you're encountering.

Step 2- You experience a strange palpitation in your heart because you know there's one thing common in that teacher and you-

You both go through the internet to get the reading materials . P. S. You know it sucks.. Because you make google do the dirty work.

Step 3- You do it for five straight years and you're going to end up like that teacher. (You've already pictured that, haven't you?)

Here comes a bit of improvisation part- Remember I said,"you won't regret?" Well, I lied.

Step 4 - Now there's some guilt getting poisoned in your emotions and that guilt, my friend, is called "neglection of art"..

Step 5- You're now worried that what will happen? Because you don't want to end up like that " person".

So again the amazing warlock here is at your rescue.

Last step, follow it and get rid of this palpitation and guilt..

"You know your path, follow it diligently. Sounds tough? Well indeed it is. But with a good mentor , things will get eased up. "

[arandomguys-blog]

MY NINE LIVES… … .

- I am the loyalty that took my brave Dobby’s life, even though he sweared once, not to protect his master. His rugged clothes that carried a beautiful creature's heart with a rough embodiment, which others found ugly, but I found it relatable.. For he was the purest of the souls I ever met.

- I am the most stiff and hardest soul like the vibranium alloy that made Captain’s shield the most strongest metal on earth. The most righteous man that could ever tread on this land with his most strongest will, maybe I am that soul?

- I am the long lost happiness that my dog’s wagging tail carried when it moved so quickly hither and fro and made him act like a complete jester. Maybe, once again he shall sometimes growl at me for teasing him but would come and sit beside me on the porch to pet him with such ease that made him the most happiest doggo on this earth.

- I am the ever lasting heart ache that my papa carries but not for the ill means but the one which made him remind every morning to drop those good morning messages on the whatsApp group. That pain, which made him take some pills? Absolutely not. But that pain which he would experience after shaam ki walk, exhausted, waiting for his “bina cheeni wali chai” to keep his diabetes in control.

- I am that extrovert person who could talk freely to any individual he prefers to without any hesitation and keep the sarcasms apart unlike the person writing this.. That person who would listen to your problems and could make them go away with a hug.. But I am afraid I am socially awkward.( Like that moment when I wanted to talk to you in the college but could never because I was too afraid to step up to you and say something).

- I am that uneasiness that sets my heart on fire whenever you’re around. Afraid to untangle those feelings “kyuki maybe I am not good enough for you” comes to the mind. This uneasiness that sets right apart into my heart when you are around and gives me palpitations so hard that I start acting more weird than I usually am.

- I am that perfect smile which people look at and feel” butterflies in their stomach wala effect” . That smile that might make you feel a little bit gleeful after that long sleepless night when you were all alone thinking who will be by my side with those tears that eventually drop out like the first rain drop on your hand, so small so fragile yet with numerous emotions.

- And finally my last life is that of a chinese guy who resisted his curiousity to eat a bat so that there would be none of this corona shit happening right now and I could be back with my friends, ready again to stalk you a little bit…

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"Fevicol ka mazboot jod hai tootega nahi! "

Staging a fellow peep and jesting his life as a mere individual might knock those gateways of bitter or sometimes tasteless memories of yours, so I gleefully am obliged to do so.

--A teenager blinded by nothing but just the cursed torments and fights with his siblings that made his days like a bitter raw coffee after a hungover, was introduced to a concept of a friend, a fellow mate, who would make his life more miserable but would make me smile when I looked back in those glimpses of retributed affairs..

Slightly caught up now he is in his own dimension, maybe more obsessed now with his "elderly" affairs... But there's a link, as Ali from the Kite Runner said, ".... there's a kinship that not even time could break".

And yes, old friend I still remember you while my heart ache.

--Afterlife

Now I was about to enter the afterlife or more precisely, a place of subjected fools or some eloquent retards, that place of afterlife for sorrow or a new world, is coined as " College". The new world, miserable one, maybe?

This place had no soul and decieved everyone with its Daisy..

Made me long back to the tastes of "aloo ki bhujia and peeli wali daal" from mummy's kitchen..

And there is such a hustle bustle in this life that I started longing for the naggings and "chappad chappad" Of my mates from school...

"Yr woh cliche moments hi the sabse cool!"

The ones with whom I shared the basketball court and also the ones with whom "hm match haare the... ".. Everything now started getting under my skin, from cravings of those " Chaya chauraha wale momos "

To those moments.....wasted? Nah! enjoyed in the cafe trying to make "challe from hookah".

"Those memories are in my heart like a picture clicked in bokeh".

-- Some imps in the afterlife..

Imp- or a mischievous devil, is not an animated frangmet of my mind, but, indeed they are those absurd demons of life, whom I met in the afterlife.

These imps made me learn from some of the most dubious grievances of life to the those unplanned " Hostel mein scene banate hai aaj" moments.

"Kabhi gate Todd dene se lekar aapas mein behas" moments to all those "Full chicken ar half paneer" food snatching...

They are like those Rumi poetries, longing for a dangling support that I found in them.. And I have kept these in my diary along with a latching.

---

Amidst these shrieks of some new sounds in my heart to longing for those old ones..

Some feverish, some cold yet alose those bold ones.

I shout the fevicol ke add wala slogan

"Yeh fevicol ka mazboot jod hai totega nahi"

For I know these bonds will thrive until I am also a Logan...

Of my own journey,

These moments has crossed my mind and heart like a bitter yet longing memory down this lane.. Down my lane!

From those "after tution expenses" to contributing now only to hear, "kisne back maara? "..

And everyone would pass out in each other's rooms as a hippie on a vacation.

Irony , right? But these are all from my fate's temptation.

Tempted to live in this one afterlife until I meet another..

To keep listening to those old " Gulzars" to these new throbbing sensations

And to adjust and still crave for more of those didi ke khaane mein peculiar creations.

Neither my diary is complete nor is my fate deserted..

For I know there are much more bonds to make with this fevicol of life to keep a bit of wonted easiness asserted.

[arandomguys-blog]

Brown or sofa fabric?

Cannot draw.

The texture was somewhere amidst this complicated grey area.

But it isn't a flaw.

Shaded those roasted beans down the jar of life and something in me jumps with excitement like....yes.. A flea.

Strange isn't it?

When the brown roasted beans kiss that glimmering spoon

It's like a shadow out of that bleak gloom.

Peculiar are my imaginations and bitter will be your buds..

Alas! Here to my rescue

The sugar now jumps into action and just pretends to swindle away all the bitterness..

Wait, there's some gloominess also in que.

For the only thing that I lack are those crystals of gleefulness.

Now here comes the gushing milk with such tenderness yet binds them separates them..

Such a jester or such a doleful individual he is.. Cannot say.

But for sure he makes my dizziness sway.

[arandomguys-blog]

Hi there, my name is Mr.XYZ and yes that is a made up one. I want to share a just thought of my mind which could be irrational but at the same time could be a really grave issue for someone .

December 18th, 2019

I was conversing with a friend of mine, whose name also I cannot reveal. The topics of the discussion were merely focused on our so profound images in the other students of the class (You know how ardent mimickers of the classes can say about good students). And then suddenly the topic swinged to his only friend, which was quite unnatural as he never mentioned it before to me or to anyone else. More unearthly thing was that this friend of mine was not at all that close to me and we were just associates or the ardent scholars of our class. But we never had a consensus regarding our ideologies.

The wind was strange that day and we sat infront of each other to do some back bitching about my fellow apes near the pavement under the terrace of the shopping complex. Fun fact , it is probably the most supernaturally solicited place of my campus ,haunted by souls who make and fake promises to each other for a jest ,maybe? But it indeed gets under my skin. And amidst that Lucifer’s den I finally had the opportunity to curse those imps of my course. The day was really peculiar but not in a negative way, for I had found someone, whom I can inquisiton and mock the intelligence level of those apes in my classroom, who probably were still laughing their souls out on me and my “not so close associate”.

“Kya pagal hai yr woh Jay!” , my not so close friend jolted angrily as if he were to take a trident and put it through the poor guy.

“ Ha, usse toh mere sarcasms bhi samjh ni aate , LOSER!”, I said. And as these words were out of my mouth I felt such a power as if a furious dog has been let out of a cage.

“Ar woh Manika yr, kitna jhoot bolti hai!”, he exclaimed.

“Teacher ki chamchi hai who toh!”, I joined his words with enthusiasm.

This immature conversation of ours bonded momentarily as if there were two atoms ready to share electrons and those atoms were finally getting along in approving each others ideologies. I felt not so lonely for once after five months in that pit of awkwardness filled with actual people of pretentious personalities that even the personification of duplicity would accept them as their lords. But with him, a new friend , or to be a friend of mine, I felt good. I enjoyed his company. I even thought of telling him about my crush. But then he spoke in a really pleasant tone, “Main na Rishabh ko bataunga is ke bare mein”.

I thought that Rishabh might be his friend, someone he knew , who definitely did not study in our college as I would have known who he was. And then we proceeded to our hostel.

The weird friendship seed of ours was sown and was exposed to some really interesting aids like discussion on books , mocking our fellow classmates and analyzing our teachers .During these moments he often brought up the name Rishabh and how he would have liked me.

December 20th

We both crossed paths in the hallway and he showed me his broken phone .But he did not seemed to be that much bugged about it as he mentioned saying-“Rishabh ne bola hai koi na phone waise bhi sada sa tha”.

This one thing again struck me , how did he managed to talk to his friend if the phone is not working. I said nothing and accompanied him to his room. Then I suddenly mentioned, “hey, tera phone toh gaya ab Rishabh baat kaise krega “ very casually without noticing my suspicion about any module of his behavior , he said “Are phone se baat thodi krta hu dufus.”

I realized something was off about this guy and I made an excuse to go to my room.

Present day-

The fact that I could not sum up was there was no one in our hostel or someone he might had known named as Rishabh , neither he mentioned anything about Rishabh more after I inquisitioned him if he was his childhood mate or someone he knew. But he always denied to throw light upon that saying he does not remember.

Now it has become so often to me that I hear his friend Rishabh’s name from his mouth and how they talked and made fun of different things that I think my not so close friend has got me worried about the fact that is he onto something or does he really needs someone’s help.

Now at this point, there is no area of inquisition that strikes me so hard to evaluate this "condition". This not so real identity framed by my new friend requires an area of judgement now. So the conclusion lies in your way of perception now to find out whether this guy is really a module of this existence or just an abstract figure of his mind?