Happy Birthday Karl Marx

Why is it ok to hold a raised fist in communist salute? 

Yes I'm sure the Holodomor was about feeding people. If you have a death toll in the tens of millions, then yes you are pathetic and unworthy, so Marxism and Maoism and Nazism are all disgusting and failed in every country they have been tried. Yeah communism wants to feed the people, that is why every state socialist nation aiming for communism had massive famines that often resulted in the death of millions. Lol @ communism. Responsible for over 100 millions deaths, including self-induced famines, all in the name of feeding the people. 

On the not-so-similar lines, Nazism (by definition) invokes theories of eugenics and is therefore seen as fundamentally offensive whereas communism in practice is an economic construct who's purpose is (was) to eliminate class and have an equal society.

That's why Nazism is in a different class to communism, socialism and capitalism. Nothing to do with how countries have used these theories in the past. Communism and Nazism are both responsible for killing millions and are equally reprehensible but are equally deserving of being laughed at and mocked.

People might think I really fail to understand the political nuance of the situation.

Hitler killed millions out of hate.

Mao killed millions out of stupidity.

Pol Pot killed millions out of greed and wrath.

Stalin intentionally killed millions of people, but at least he did so strategically in order to win WWII and turn a third-rate country into one of the two major world powers by the time of his death. He made a calculated sacrifice. Was it evil? That's a matter of opinion.

I don't think it's fair to compare Stalin to Hitler, Mao, or Pol Pot. A more fair comparison would be Truman, who committed his own fair share of atrocities. Stalin succeeded at what he set out to do.

Hitler, Mao, and Pol Pot were different animals.

Yet I'll go to the extent of stating Hitler is a saint compared to Karl Marx, Mao, Pol Pot and Stalin.

तैयार रहिये।

अब 

अगर आप वामपंथी लेखक हैं
तो भूल जाइए

*सरकारी आयोजनों में आमंत्रणों को 
*विश्वविद्यालयों और संस्थाओं में आमंत्रण को
*सरकारी फंड को
*सरकारी संस्थानों से प्रोजेक्ट्स, किताबें और बाक़ी चीजों को

और याद रखिए

*आप पर हमले हो सकते हैं। प्रत्यक्ष और परोक्ष
*आप स्कैनर पर हैं
*आप ही इकलौता विपक्ष हैं अब
*अपने अस्तित्व की रक्षा के लिए बदलने होंगे मापदंड और करनी होंगीं नई पहलकदमियां।

तैयार हैं?

Devil in Details

Watched a very popular musical movie recently.
Nice touch. Very much.
But found the devil in the details,
I don't want to be disappointed, but I don't want to
Do not read the following.
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*
*
*
*
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If the ex-es of the heroine and her last companion are the middle-born people,
That's normal to break up with the leading actor;
And, in the scene they were fighting,
The Hero shows that she has always wanted him to find a stable job.

She won't be able to get a lot of days with her boyfriend.
This shows that she has a long-term condition that she is able to live with her life.
They are doomed to break up.
It's nothing but a pity.
There is no relationship with the pursuit of dreams.
It is not a matter of self-selfishness. 

WOW: “Flowers At The Door”

Workstations become 'our own' much quicker than a person does. There were flowers on my work-desk, a bouquet himself, basking in the company of yellow roses. Without bothering to look who the sender was, for almost half a minute, I was blinded by beauteous bouquet. I had reasons -

1) I probably had never seen two dozen yellow roses all bind together could look so blindingly bright (beautifullingly bright). 

2) The air got all glossy after checking out who the sender was. 

A prominent name from my past was lurching over on a plain-white card stapled on couple of rose-petals (those yellow rose-petals). It was 'the day' of the year, frequently referred on social media as, 'another year older, none the wiser'. This shenanigan made sense since ex-past and I shared same date. A heartache traveled straight to stomach where it churned and churned more. Still standing over the desk, which by now had turned into a heartbreak hotel and it became nearly impossible to stay standing. I dragged a chair close enough to desk. Action of dragging the chair felt like.. well, dragging my foot through mud that had went dry and was now clenching onto my skin. 

5 long years earlier, I was advised by a whole clan of bffs and confidants to button-up lips about the whole *af-fairy* thing. Pondering over a cliched scenario of my love-life and feeling heartbroken at the same time, I broke off in an overly crowded McDonald. There was a temptation (there always is) to let it go, to forgive, to celebrate love and be loved. But by then, an unsurity had clouded the heart and like a little girl that once I was, thought its best to put it to a safe place. So I put my heart in an imaginary bottle and hung it around my neck. I didn't enjoy suffering anymore. The chair would remain empty for the next 9 years to come. 

It's that time of the year again (same month and almost a same date). Also a strong urge washed away my resistance of showing how strongly I felt when I saw the title 'W.O.W. - Flowers on the Door'. 

PS: Earlier this year, someone came and put back my heart where it came from, and the chair isn't so empty anymore.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

understood

what happens when you pour your heart into a territory unknown (to you or scores of generations before you) and have response be muted or non existent? is it something you solve in 90minutes with popcorn on your lap? i'll keep living it and keep returning to the shortcomings i thought i had conquered once upon a time coz it keeps going and showing me the FOLLY OF BELIEVING it can be understood. i smiled so broadly that my face hurt. maybe i'm naive... 

६ शब्दों की है ये कहानी

क्या छ शब्दों में कोई कहानी कही जा सकती है? मेरा पहला उत्तर होगा नहीं लेकिन यह मेरा आखिरी उत्तर नहीं होगा. अगर आपका आखिरी उत्तर भी नहीं है तो इसे इस तरह सोचिये- "पार्टनर तुम्हारी पॉलिटिक्स क्या है?" क्या यह मुक्तिबोध की कहानी नहीं है. "बात बोलेगी हम नहीं" क्या शमशेर की कहानी कहने के लिए इससे अधिक शब्दों की जरूरत है? "मैं शैतान द्वारा चुना गया लेखक हूँ" यह गैलियानो की आत्मकथा है. 'अ से अनार नहीं अत्याचार' यह एक समाज के बदलने की कहानी है. 'तलाक तलाक तलाक', 'बँटवारा', १९८४, २००२, द्रोणाचार्य ये सिर्फ शब्द नहीं, ये ऐसी कहानियाँ हैं जिसे पढ़कर/सुनकर कोई भी संवेदनशील व्यक्ति रो सकता है, गुस्से से भर सकता है, एक पागल कर देने वाली बेचैनी से घिर सकता है.

जब हेमिंग्वे ने कहा था कि मैं छ शब्दों में पूरी कहानी लिख सकता हूँ तो उनका मतलब शायद ऐसी ही कहानियों से रहा होगा और ऐसी ही कहानियाँ लिखी हैं हरी राम ने. सिर्फ छ शब्दों में वो समाज का सारा सच कह जाते हैं-

पढ़िए Hari Ram की ये six words story:

बेटा, चमार-मुसलमान छोड़ सब चलेंगी!
‪#‎sixwordstory‬

यार,कास्ट इशू. पापा नहीं मानेंगे.
#sixwordstory

काश! तुम जॉब कर रहे होते!
#sixwordstory

आई लव यू एज़ अ फ्रेंड!
#sixwordstory

अफसर कड़क था,लाख पे माना.
#sixwordstory

अफसर जात भाई निकला. बच गए.
#sixwordstory

जीन्स ने देश बर्बाद कर दिया.
‪#‎six_word_story_from_dehaat‬

पढ़के कौनसा डीसी बनेंगी ये छोरी!
‪#‎six_word_story‬

हम तो सबके साथ खाते-पीते है.
‪#‎upper_caste_revolutionary‬

सरकारी नौकर है. गाड़ी देनी पड़ेगी.
#sixwordstory

साला आरक्षण ने जातिवाद फैलाया है.
#sixwordstory

बेटा, झुग्गी वालों साथ खेलना नहीं.
#sixwordstory

पढ़ने भेजा है या पॉलिटिक्स करने?
‪#‎Savarna_confession_story‬

मुर्गा चख नहीं पाये, मंगलवार था :(
#sixwordstory

लड़की पढ़ी-लिखी है,पर रहेगी दबके.
#sixwordstory

बड़ी बेहया है. घूंघट नहीं करती!
#sixwordstory

साला एससी था, फ़ैल कर दिया.
#Savarna_confession_story

क्या कहा! लड़का वाल्मीकि जात है?
‪#‎sixwordtory‬

mere 3words are not enough

i love you.
against all odds.
how are you.
now or never.
i miss you.
dont give up.
be the change.
because i can.
over and out.
laugh out loud.
be right back.
let it go.
no strings attached.
seize the day.
going my way?
until next time
health is wealth.
listen, think, speak (in that exact order).
somebody loves you.
take a walk.
you're not perfect.
roses are red.

and as Fletcher would've said, 'call your mom'.

dear mom

you were always around. i would be lying if i won't say that it would've been nice to have you around. in a parallel world (beyond right and wrong, do's and dont's) i am making you watch Walt Disney's dumbo just like you made me watch 'boogie woogie' when all i wanted to watch ducktales

i no talk to my mom anymore, daddy issues but in a parallel world (to hell with parallel world..)

but then

but then,

she was supposed to be the one to hold it all back

and he was supposed to pour it out

for words that remained unspoken

for glances that remained unstolen

for skin tissues that remained untouched

for love that remained ungrew

but still,

she continues to keep him close

and no love but he continues to send his bests, his smilies and his typos

he continues to haunt her dreams

she continues to chase a mirage wrapped in flesh

and a wild imagination of an unparalleled universe

where number of bohemian coffee shops will surpass the number of cars and crowd on roads

where he attracts unusual weather and keeps her tongue busy

some days, he plays cupid

and some days, turns into a stone that smashes windows and breaks hearts

some days, his eyes flirt

some days, his whole being is just a smile so broad that makes his face wrinkled

some days, he is a secret lover

and on a night like this, he irons out her cold palms and whispers that maybe that's the way he prefers

it was one of the those nights

and it was his palm against her trembling feminine fingers

on nights like this, she wonders

if  she(they) has lost her (their) only chance to be mad at each other, to disappoint one another

coz the clock has long-ticked and gone

and the sand from hourglass has slipped

now her face has turned into what defines obvious

and when the big wheel will start to spin

there will be nothing

but pesky rumors and nasty smirks

and a question that why didn’t it happened

what was there to reason

to them, then she asks

given a chance what would they have preferred

a love affair

or an affair worth longing?

हम दोनों

हम दोनों एक आसमान के नीचे और बदलते मौसमों के बीच बडे हुए

हजारों किलोमीटर दूर रहके भी पास रहे

हम दोनों की इस हिम्मत की मिसाल देने के लिए शब्दों की ख़ूबसूरती की ज़रुरत नहीं

शब्दों की ख़ूबसूरती की बात करें तो चीज़ें आज भी नहीं बदली हैं

शब्द जितने खूबसूरत होंगे, बातें उतनी ही लम्बी और उलझी

बिलकुल हमारी जड़ों की तरह

उलझी हुई, गहरी और किसी तीसरे की समझ से बाहर

यहाँ बात प्यार की हो रही है तो प्यार का हावी होना ज़रूरी है

उन चीज़ों की या लोगों की हो रही है जिनसे दूर होते वक़्त

चाहे कितनी कोशिश करें

हम उनकी आँखों में देखके फिर मिलने का वादा नहीं कर पाते

वो तुमसे कहते हैं कि खराब वक़्त के लिए चेहरे पे हंसी चिपका के तैयार रहो

मैं तुमसे कहता हूँ कि प्यार को न तो सही वक़्त की ज़रुरत है, न सही जगह की

प्यार होने के लिए मुझे चाहिए तुम
तुम्हारे साथ कुछ मिनट और उन कुछ मिनटों में बैकग्राउंड में तुम्हारा पसंदीदा गाना 

प्यार की बड़ी-बड़ी बातें सुनता हूँ तो सोच में पड़ जाता हूँ

सोचता हूँ कि ये लोग प्यार करने की बनिस्बत नहीं, प्यार में जबरन पडे रहने के लिए ही शायद ऐसा करते हैं

गर ऐसा नहीं है तो एक-दूसरे की प्यार की कहानियाँ सुनते वक़्त क्यूँ हम खुद से कहते हैं, “
"तुम्हारा प्यार अच्छा, मेरा प्यार तुमसे कहीं ज्यादा अच्छा”
माना प्यार न हुआ, वजन नापने की मशीन हो गया

तुम्हारा पता नहीं 

पर मेरे साथ हमेशा ऐसा हुआ है कि जो चीज़ें मुझे याद रहीं, उन्होने मुझे बचाया

भूली हुयी चीज़ों को कोई दोबारा याद नहीं करना चाहता

तुमने कहा था जिस दिन ऐसा होगा

उस दिन सड़क पर ट्रैफिक कम, कॉफ़ी शॉप्स ज्यादा दिखेंगी

जहां हम दोनों जैसे प्यार में पडे लोग रोड ट्रिप्स और साथ में सनसेट देखने की बातें कर रहे होंगे

और बातें कर रहे होंगे नए और पुराने गानों की, एअरपोर्ट सिक्यूरिटी की और पासपोर्ट रिन्यूअल की

तुम नहीं जानती कि कोई तुमसे ऐसा ही प्यार करने लगा है

और उसके हिस्से आई हैं

प्यार की बड़ी-बड़ी बाते

उलझी हुयी, गहरी और किसी तीसरे की समझ से बाहर!

   

tutorial

i will tell you exactly
what has really changed

week after week
over the years

wrists have gotten thinner
and the veins.. greener than ever

wonder which one of them leads to let the flesh throbbing
wonder how deep a cut should be
memorize kevin spacey's voice that says,

cut along the tracks
not across them
that's a rookie mistake. 

Don't bother.

'it's okay, don't bother. she will get used to it or to say, she has gotten used to it'.

They say, option spoils you. He was not careful enough, she became an option. Even before, he realized. Realization is what we (mortals) can come closest to what they call, enlightenment. After all, first (firsts of many) memory of her first realization that struck her (and left her awestruck). That she is not meant for beautiful things. Firsts are anything but forgettable. Father seemed rather upset towards the notion of his flesh, has begun to corrupt. If only, she had the ability to convince him. Maybe, she would. someday. She is hopeless. It's going to be a bumpy ride. She had to take charge of the wheel. She had to know what drives her. Disguise? Indifference?

Speaking of spoiling, what love is, after all, if one doesn't get one's hand dirty? Dirty sounds negative. Negative is as extreme as positive. Grey is mediocre, so is she.

Lying next to him, her fingers locked to his, with her lips tweaked (if you call it a smile), she seems as if... wait. is she thinking? Thinking of what? 'When was the last time, have we thought about nothing?', she wonders. After all, nothing is what matters.

What smell is this? She sniffs, gets curious. Does curiosity really kill? Was that really the curiosity that killed the cat? They say, it's (almost) impossible to know a cat even you boast having spent a lifetime with one. Whatever happened to good-old-days of spending (time) that lead to wasting (a lot of time). These days? We invest. We invest our time, energy, every word we speak, every thought that flashes by, followed by actions. We invest in people, things that matter. Things that don't matter, we lay our cards upon the table with the reluctance to invest. Hearsay is, this way we may succeed to appear as intellectuals. Aren't we supposed to appear like one? After all, humans that we are. Creator's splendid creation and his only irony.

She finds out. It's her lungs filled up with his smell. She inhales, pauses. This way, she can have a part of him inside her, even for few seconds. She is desperate.

Night crawling towards dawn, soon there will be a new day. Cuts her thumb while chopping onion for omelet. Endearing it is, to fall in the idea of being in love rather than in love itself. She is panting, coughs up the omelet bit. Maybe, she should tune in the radio. Maybe, she shouldn't allow the silence filling her lungs. We crave but can we stand the silence?

Maybe, it's the invisible wall that separates us. Separation, her own little amusement.

...

HE: You look beautiful tonight. 
SHE: We all look beautiful, naked. 

Don't we?