Tag Archives: state of consciousness

First sentence of my Debut Untitled Novel

The cheap brothels, the rich rag-pickers, the intellectual lunatics, the clean-nosed bankers, the poison-spewing journalists, the intrusive housewives, the headless kings of third grade casinos, the skinny spine-less musicians, the weird beard artists, the innocent tit-suckers, the stubborn insurance executives, the wasted junkies of kashmere gate, the dismantled car-mechanics of old-delhi, the money-minded illiterate school teachers, the over-zealous con-men, the cute-faced scamsters, the off-springs of ambitious politicians, the fake historians of non-existing destroyed history, the evil NGO workers, the teenage nymphets of khan market, the mad readers of trash literature, the soggy newspaper columnists, the grounded acrobats, the enthusiasts of love, the naive fitness instructors, the juicy models from fashion streets, the psychopath poets, the uninhabited security guards… I wanted to kill them all.




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With Lust & Bondage

I am not afraid anymore, to tell you all, that how much I loved you all, loved your hypocrisies, your insecurities, your fears, your twisted moralities, your idiosyncrasies and, to top it all, your stupidities. I always thought that I should hate those who lie to me or who are fake in front of me but now I know that they are the most real people ever lived on this planet. They are real because I was always unreal; I had a quaint idea of my own discontented self which was so idealist in nature that it expected ‘Idealism’ even from the last trickling drop of my yellow piss. Idealism is such a shitty word which phucks your raw instincts so badly that your first not-so-thoughtful reaction becomes conscious of its own existence. Idealism made me think about every phuckking bum who was wasting his time begging for alms for his next doze of dope. It phucking made me say good things about all those bastards and bitches who kicked me in my balls so badly that my balls almost reached my throat, but at that time my balls were also idealists so they made their way back to where they belonged. But now, I don’t have time to hate anyone, it’s so boring to take time out and think about all those bad things someone did to you, and wait a minute, did I say ‘bad’, pardon me but I don’t give a phuck about what is bad or what is good (both are the same).

Until yesterday, I used to believe that ‘Idealism’ and ‘Honesty’ was a couple and they copulated, which in turn gave birth to their idiot son ‘Patience’, other idiot son ‘Morality’, their beautiful daughter ‘Peace’ and a hermaphrodite ‘Insecurity’. But today, I got to know that ‘Honesty’ had a passionate extra-marital affair with ‘Hypocrisy’ and they illegitimately gave birth to their bastard son ‘Immorality’. She, Honesty, was so charmed by his, Hypocrisy’s, cunning attitude that she gave herself to him. Enough of this family tree, all I want to say is that I just phuckking love all those people who are sleeping around with their bosses or licking asses just to get promotion or using everything to get ahead in their life because it’s the easiest way to succeed, Accept it, but the truth is that it is easy or in fact phuck the Trufffff, truth is always boring, lies are charming, you need brains to make lies. I feel uncomfortable with all those who say that ‘oh my god I hate liars and two-faced people’, if you are saying this, it proves that you can’t resist them.

All I want to do, now, is ‘wrong’ as it gives me immense pleasure in not imitating all the moral-talkers and phuckked-up Samaritans. I want to take it to the extreme level and then I want to see why this society has been raped by all those bullshitting moral lecturers with their idealist phallus(s).

The existence of every word or a being is ambiguous and dubious. We are tempted to do the wrong things but idealist thoughts chain the temptations. It is phuuckking bondage and we all so much in love with the bondage, we expect to be chained by morality, to be tied by sincerity and to be obedient by the norms of society. I don’t think we are weak; we are just vain and blind.

P.S.: The above mentioned views are highly personal views of the sadist side of A (dot).

Congratulations, you just finished reading it!!

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Just words

rapid flutter of his thoughts..


stuck on her like a

triggered booger

stuck in the periphery of cold nostrils

stumbling on red finger nails


woohooo..moisture in tear


she with her mausoleum eyes

and squashed-pumpkin lips

her chocolate-chip chin melting

on her vanilla-like nordic neck

throwing papercut words

wrapped in pious underpants


he with his gargantuan eye-bags

and his stopped short of helping words

gloomily following the trails of his disturbing verbiage

distracting intricate signages of deprived doodles


and that was that

bridge is empty now.



A (dot)

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Torn Pages # 24

Those aged sages

with whom I completed my sentence


Are they still there?


With their sacrosanct sneezes

in their torn plastic bags


It took them ages to

discover what all was eaten


kind savages

who rummaged for my halo

in their hollow pockets


When ‘it’ was not found

they put me in that cage

where rage melts with time

and then they sold me in less than a dime.



A (dot)

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