A new journey

me and my friends back in mumbai (2006) started this hmm.. i don't have a term for it so I will call it 'our way of living' and we called it Mandd Mafia. It was a way of living which did not restrict us or organize us. It was a method of unwinding from the spell of 'socially acceptable norms'. Dedicated to Mandd Mafia a long time back I had written these lines which I suddenly stumbled over the internet, its called "Silent Screams" & here it goes...

'SILENT SCREAM'
Brewing the shreds of pain in Water
Corrupting the ancient style of Laughter
Killing the eyes that Innocently Blink
Blowing up the nerves that relatively Think
Purity is now a Myth, a blurry Notion
Souls are Tainted to fit in the Motion
Cheers!! for spoiling the life that we Breathe
Keep quiet, exploitation is part of our Creed
Filth is the new Trend competing with Greed
I write to lift the shadow of an old DREAM
As no one can smell my silent Scream
One day my journey will come to an end
But Words are immortal they’ll never die
They’ll live Fighting, Fighting out THE “TREND”

A new chapter of life starts, with a heavy hangover of mumbai in my head

i look at this place chandigarh, already a hell confused

in my mind 'about the place i belong to'

Destiny it seems doesent seem to have any mercy on me .

Having been occupied most of the time by quantums of work.

I have not written much but all those who have been reading me

just one news for you "something big is coming"!!...
As for now i've recently written these poems,,

read them and tell me hw did you find them.......
Caught in deep pessimism, loosing all the turbulence from life.

Pouring a deep anguish on the paper was how 'dead as a soldier' was created...

'Dead as a soldier'

A tint of sun on a cloudy day
Deep footprints on wet clay
A tired soldier remembring home
With mud on his pants blood on his chest
He wishes for the tinted sun to unset
Breathing the last sunset of his life
He witnesses a strange light
Covering his face giving light a chase
He tries to outwit the holy rays
All in vain he crumbles alone
Still remembring his lovely home......

(mayurvirhangloo)

I am at best when i am alone no walls to bother this mental cone,

Being alone gives me a much deeper prespective towards life.

Lately i have got bundles of these lonely moments.

Wondering of how we become just another face in the crowd

having no control over life, i wrote this one...

Living like a worm

Sitting on the roadside watching the world move by
somewhere is a lonely child who wants to cry
everyday he sees his life bleeding
caught in the web of survival
plucking the cloves of meaning
doctrine dictates the terms
slogging each day like worms
sanity is a forgotten state that way back existed
grounded 16 feet deep in the earth his soul is unrested....

(mayurvirhangloo )

thegreenappricot

Having a mind which can think can be a problem some times. Consistent thinking dries up the brain and causes a disorder that I call a "cerebral constipation". The best medicine for which I think is writing. I have been writing for some time now, so i think time has come to share it with others.I have posted some of my poems. I’ll keep adding other of my stuff in coming time. So read it and share with me your thoughts ....

8th april 2009 i heard this song 'union' by black eyed peas so wrote this one---

WHAT IF..

What is music, an extended expression
Noise of the sea, colors of the season
Randomness of soul, stillness of conclusion
Music is magic, a lovely illusion
Think what if music is made a religion
Whole world in chorus just for one reason
The giant orchestra playing, proud of its decision
World becomes a symphony and life a tune
Our shadow would no more call us to 'get well soon'
World without the black and the white
Souls dazzled in a mystical flight
No string to pull this divine kite
Their is no feeling like this serene site

I pray the darkness prevails and i can't stare at the light...

mayur vir hangloo

28/11/08... few days after the mumbai attacks my mind totally paralyzed by the incident ,waiting for a local train on belapur station i wrote this one-

WAITING FOR THE TRAIN TO COME

Cutting my mind into two parts
Went those scenes of burning carts
I know it will keep happening
As this fruit shows no sign of ripening
It will never fall from the tree
and we will never dare to pluck it
To set our souls free
We every time think it is a mist and it is gone
But ever time it brings with it a big storm
People crying and pulling out their throats
I remain stunned and my heart just flows
Floats in the river of pain and makes me think
how will this feeling of agony sink
Suddenly i realize i have to stand up and run
as the world around me goes insane
The slap of reality hits my face

i have to run and catch my train...

mayur vir hangloo

This is my third poem.Not sure of, if any one is going to read my poems, I didn't post all my poems in one go, as i am one of those who keeps his world within himself .But ever since my first post I have felt I am not alone and their are many others like me who suffer of cerebral constipation.

This one is an interesting piece of work. I wrote this one sitting on a shit pot during a chilling winter night..7/1/2009 2am in the morning .. i saw droplets of water falling from a tap into a bucket and these lines struck in my mind...

A DROP OF WATER

That night had an extra chill and spark
Middle of the night i had a nature's call
Rushing I went into the loo
To see the most relentless creature of the zoo
Someway I could relate to the randomness of it
They were the drops of water
Falling from the tap into the pit
Lost in a state of trance
I just kept watching them fall
Replacing each falling drop was another equally tall
The drops kept falling
and the time kept crawling
Finally the bucket got filled
and i don't know why
the excitement which was there initially got killed
I spilled the water off bucket to give it another chance
May be i could revisit the same state of trance
But nothing happened and it made me realize
Searching for the known was not that wise...

mayur vir hangloo

25/12/2009......A cup of sheer chai and a heated debate is what most kashmiri pandits enjoy, and I am no different. Recently I had one of these with my usual opponent,my dad.Debating on who was responsible for the disastrous condition of valley, a heated argument turned into an emotional debate, and kept further deteriorating. Moved and lost after the debate i wrote this one-

THE HUMAN

Lament faces of a serene storm
That took with it all blissful charm
It dwelled on our blood and grew on our grief
A mock audience watched the drying leaf
Our quietness goaded it to fly
Humanity importuned to construct a cry
Like this the coordinates will never change
A divine Intervention may turn the page
Thy too will be embarrassed of his shoddy creation
An ounce of filth that we call "human"...

mayur vir hangloo