The Inner Demon

It howled at night in the pitch-black jungle.
It wanted to spring upon its prey,
Upon hearing the prayer.
Oh! It was a calling.

It possessed the man to commit the act.
The possession is real, oh, it's true!
The urge is real, the thirst too.
He's a conniving man now!

He turned towards the moon and smiled.
He pulled his claws and wings out,
And flew towards the moon.
Oh, the beast it was.

He got hold of a branch and moved forward;
Branch by branch and tree by tree; 
Moved till the end of the trees.
At the sight of lotus pond.

He stretched to grab the flower he loved.
In the water, when he saw himself.
Astonished, at his reflection.
For the Demon he was.

All along the way, was I always a demon?
Is my bad myself as the good is me?
Am I demon to act the thought?
Is the good thought-not-act?

He growled and cried for his own reflection.
The guilt killed his mind, ah, the tears.
The appearance too; unwatchable!
Turn me back! He growled.

But can he? Or will he change the act done?
The devilish deed and demonish greed.
The wantings of urge and pure need.
Now he is all the demon's feed.

The demon jumped out, sprung out from him.
Left him crying at the pond, laughing hard.
The man on his knees, crying out loud.
But would he know it left?

Would he ever again dare to see in the pond?
Could he ever have a glance at himself?
Will he realise that it was not him?
That it was the demon.

And the demon? Just part of his mind's jungle.
The one that hides and attacks when called.
The actions! It possesses them hard.
The thoughts however, not!

It is the thoughts that call it out to act open.
The man could have controlled the call.
But did he? He gave himself to it.
He sold the soul to the demon.

Now he gets what he asked for, the eternal guilt.
The burden of the thought; that unasked act.
That could have passed away; the thought.
But it did turn into an act.
The unforgettable.
The un-passable.
Quite natural.
But still is,
Is never.
No, No.

Utter Nonsense of a senseless mind

The mind is a wonder they say, but if they peeped into my mid, they would want to ignore. Because of the things I have in my mind, you will find it hard to call me names—these dangerous abstract images of chaos. I see people as stupid, and to be precise, cunts. Cunts who can’t be kind to each other and always find something or the other to complicate life. I happened to exist, and you happened to exist, the circumstances we grew up are different, but we came into existence in the same way, unless you were a virgin-born, then I would have to call you my lord, I guess. But no, you were dropped through the same maternal tunnel that I was. Then are you somehow superior to me? You would if you fell from an interdimensional wormhole or a spaceship, can defy gravity and your only defect is the Kryptonite. But no, right? You cry when I pinch you, and you sob at looking at your academics. You and I are at the same level of stupidity, my brother!

All these years I have been wondering how you are different from me, for I should bow for you like you are a king, but I found none. Do you know? You can be nice to me! Try sometime! You don’t need to lie, you don’t need to fake a greeting, but you and I can co-exist without bothering each other. But no! You had to buy that golden toe massager that cost you a kidney and not because you liked it, but because you thought it would make you look better than me. Do things only when you want them, for your sake! And if you really wanted it, it is okay to lose that kidney, I guess. When was the last time you did something because you really liked to do it?

I’m sitting here and typing these words, and I suddenly felt like singing in a donkey’s voice. Of course, I will do it, I will sing. But if my song had to wake the people sleeping, I should choose not to. Because co-exist bitches! Yes, I had the urge to sing, but it will disrupt the peace of my neighbour who is waiting for his third cardiac arrest to kick the bucket.

I wear a skirt, and that disgusts you? You call me names and you joke about me all day. You can call me a cross-dresser or a trans-gender, but that won’t change anything. Maybe I just wanted to see how I looked in a skirt. You somehow generalised 50% of people in the world because they had penises. We call them men, and somehow you thought we would all behave in the same way because we all have the same reproductive organ? NO! I might have it, but maybe it is not working? I might want to cut it off? But how can I be proud of it, as it was random? There is an equal chance that I would have been born in the other 50% of the population called women. Would I be generalised differently? Women, you generalised yourself too. That’s where the trouble began, generalisations!

We are so unique, brother! And you still want us to be common someway. You did not just by generalising mindsets by gender. You needed something else. You looked at stars and thought you should create and believe in zodiac signs. Can you hear yourself? You think that you and I are same because the day, the time had matched yourself and we both are Gemini? Does that make any sense to you? Just for a moment, consider yourself a Capricorn. Now read what the horoscope says to Capricon. It still matches you. That’s how they are made; so vague! The lines of astrology and horoscope match us 90% because every paragraph matches to any of us in the same probability. If you wanted to see similarities, being a Gemini, you could still match with any other zodiac sign. It is just in your fucking mind.

You choose things, and you do them to you. Your book of life is written by you, and you can’t blame anything else for what happens with your life. We always try to blame something else, something external. In this chase of blaming something, we have created our monsters to blame them. If you win, you blame it on the magical sky daddy, say you have had his precious blessings. But no, It is just you all over and the sky daddy is in your mind. God is just a block you fill in all the gaps that you can’t understand.

The secret of life is simple, and it is not some hippie bullshit in YouTube that asks you to clean your aura. Clean your brain! The secret to lead a happy life is to not bother any other cunt and live your cunty life. Live so individually that you don’t even bother a fly with your existence. Of course, kill the fly before it lays eggs, it is just a metaphor. Only don’t harm fellow human beings, that is the minimum thing you should do to live a peaceful life. Live and let live, for its maximum. Love and let love too. Just because you have presumptions about a certain group of people, you can’t force your son/daughter to not live with them. In fact, the idea of a group is false, and you are an idiot to think people belong to a group and behave in the same way. We all speak for ourself, not some imaginary group we have created in our minds.

This is not the minimum concerns that bother my mind. I’m troubled about every other thing. I overthink about why people overthink about almost everything. Why can’t we just live a simple life which carries no weight? Why should we carry so much burden of judging, scolding, generalising, offending and defending business? Why can’t we just live? You don’t know when you will die, it might be today! A sharp pencil that you have left on the table might pierce into your eyeball and then enter into your brain. Maybe you will live your life in a stretcher like a vegetable. You can never know! We all have problems. We have all been there. But what is the reason for the problem? Look for it, it is inside you. It is either you or some other who had created the problem by complicating life. The human error of complicating things has gotten messy.

We have millions of people with mental disorders, thanks to stress and anxiety. Chill the fuck out! Breathe! Live your life in a way you like it without harming anyone else’s life. That’s it. Even if it is your dearest son whom you gave birth to. You don’t own his life because you gave birth to him. He never asked you to give birth to him in the first place. It is you who have burdened him by bringing him on to this ever complicating, problem-creating and hatred-filled world. You don’t need to smile at people, just don’t start judging, commenting, gossiping and bothering them. We are just 7.8 billion sperms floating in the testicle of the universe.

So, live your life, and let me live min, Cunt! Yeah, how ironical of me not being nice to you? If you have never been nice to me, how can I? If you will remain a cunt, people will also be cunts to you!

Donkey, Donkey; Old And Grey.

The guy that loves you might have hated someone and might be hated by someone. Our perception of people is an abstract idea of them formed through deduction and might end up being false. What is good, and What is bad? Who is a good person? Is a moral person good? If I belong to a region where killing my father is an honour and senicide is accepted, then I’m following my rightful morals as a son. Am I a good boy? Or am I bad because your morals don’t accept me killing my father and ending his suffering? For me, I’m moral, because I believe that it is the rightful thing to do. But for you, it is wrong. You have been born and brought with different teachings and different morals. We both are different, our right and wrong are different too. I belong to a tribe which doesn’t allow me to eat flesh, as one of my ancestors banned us from hunting and hurting animals. You were born and brought up in a place where you don’t need to witness the slaughter of animals and the horrorshow of animal screams. So you don’t see the harm in eating flesh. For you, you are doing nothing wrong, but for me who respects nature, you are a cunt! And I’m an uncivilised brute for you because I don’t even wear my clothes properly.

The nicest guy you know might have done some bad things you will never know. Sometimes the nice guy doesn’t even know that he had done a bad thing to someone. For his belief is that he is rightful according to his own morals. In the long journey of life, it is impossible to secure some beliefs without hurting any other. We all are armoured in our opinions and beliefs and look for the same in other people. Assuming a place where incest is not wrong is hard to imagine because we are morally against it and it’s unperceivable. But we don’t know what the people committing incest are feeling. We can never be in their shoes. Your nice brother must have molested someone, and your great father might have bullied someone in school. We all are in this shit together, and no matter how you perceive ‘good’ people, no one is universally good. They might be right for you, but not for everyone. This contradiction only proves the labelling of right and wrong to be false. That it just exists in our brain. Good is what satisfies our beliefs and opinions, we like it. Bad is that which is against our perception. That’s the reason why something out of the box is not easily acceptable. The very best friend you have trusted and has been dear to you might have been a devil to your sibling. While you put your arms across them, they put them in private places of your siblings.

Is the world dark place? No, it isn’t! But it isn’t light either; It’s grey! And that’s how the world functions. There is no universal black and white; there is the only grey! In real-world, black and white co-exist at the same place. They are inside everyone, and it is up to their choice to show it to you. Given a situation where there are no morals and humans are free to do whatever they want, you will then see the true colours of the world, for what it really is, that is, Grey and desaturated. Every bright smile is also capable of a dark grin. Given the intensity of emotion, anyone can be provoked to commit a murder. In fact, if there were no judgements, both internal and external, humans would be tempted to commit crimes. That’s why sins exist, that’s why the law exists, that’s why schools exist. But they are failing to condition every animal. Because the thing they teach at these conditioning centres is wrong and against the nature of a human person. The raw, natural and secret voice of yours that criticises everything and that personality of yours that you hide inside for the sake of so-called manners is the real you! It’s the inner demon that’s free from sin, crime and moral burden. And it is not the black you, it is the grey you! It’s the Donkey that’s old and asleep.

Donkey, donkey;
Old and grey!
Open your mouth and gently bray;

Lift your ears
And blow your horn.
To wake up the world,
this sleepy morn!

The darker it DARK?

Sorry I am claustrophobic
And that’s how I know I am stuck
In the built structure of this body
I have been thinking all along
How am I here at all
Was I forcefully trapped into this?
Or it is just another mistake by the universe?
I have wandered through the world
And travelled through the sky
Neither I found the escape
Nor the answer for why
How could I sustain this?
How far the frustrating journey?
Is all I have in my head
Whenever I look into the eyes of the mirror
To what ends is your mystery?
What do you crave?
Is there really a meaning to this?
Is why the man evolved from the cave?
To the questions and thoughts unanswered
All I wanted was an escape
The constant reminder is the end
Where we all can finally rest
I was in a hurry to reach
I tried the shortcuts possible
Little did I know what it is
To have a shortcut to the end
Painful and scary was all the way
Wish I had stopped that day
But today here I am at the end
What foolish was I to not understand that
The end is the beginning; the beginning is the end.

Waste of sperm!

By the – Übermensch

It was 23 years ago when that one sperm hit that one egg and a fusion of 23 x 23 chromosomes that had fertilised me. The journey was unbelievably painful. The questions I had in mind were always unanswerable. I remember asking why women have holes and men have poles. I remember asking where does god live and how come he’s able to see and be everywhere—the answers to those questions that I did get, but the satisfaction I did not. But I did nod, I did pretend like I found closure. Because all around me, every one of my age was satisfied with the answers, they were told. These unanswered questions started bulking up in the warehouse of my mind. Soon the storage was filled, and I had to let go of some. To do that, I had to accept a few norms and let the questions be unanswered forever, like the origin of the universe, I just left the scientists to fill it.

As far as I know, just like me being born in a stream of million sperm, the universe was created by accident. That’s how random this universe is. The things that occur; occur randomly, and it is us who give them meaning. We somehow hate random things is what I had answered for the question of why we want to believe in god. Because we hate our existence to be meaningless and a co-incidence; we created a creator who had then created a destiny for us. We want to believe it so hard because, without it, we are nothing. But after the thought of the possibility of creating the creator, can I ever force myself to believe something fictional to be true? No, I can’t go back! And that had made me the black sheep!

I was curious to know how I became me and not an ape! How am I a human? How did my ancestors evolve? While the people of my age were busy watching and playing sports. I hated the very notion of hitting a rubber ball with a wooden bat and then people running to catch it and the guy with wood in his hand running. I never wanted to afford such leisure. What a waste of time? I could find answers, meanwhile! But then, why are people tend to afford such leisures? I had a new question. It took ages for me to figure out that it was a way of passing the time. Leisures exist to pass the time without thinking about factual things. Like why a round ball rolls and why not a square piece? It took me a thousand questions to realise that I should not close the questions to invite new questions. I should upgrade the warehouse! I should broaden the range and encourage more new questions. That was the moment I started being a critic of everything life throws at me. I see a puzzle in everything. Why did my girlfriend happen to be my girlfriend? If I had a different set of clothing, with a taste of what she repels, would she still be? Isn’t that random? If a thing as small as it can be is changed, maybe Hitler would end up being a great artist, we would have his works in our galleries. The chaos is what exists. There is no pattern in anything. We think we have everything in control, but no. It is just like destiny, but the idea of predestination is false. Our fate is not predetermined. Instead, it always remains unpredictable, depending on random interlinked events. 

With that worm of thought, can I live among the flock that is not concerned about eating the worm? I see emotions as pretend, a user-interface. They are beautiful and uncontrollable; I can’t control my tears at the climax of Interstellar. I can’t help falling in love with things and people I find lovely. It’s up to my body chemistry to react upon them, to give my character depth, and that makes me human. Can I be normal when I’m voluntarily leaving a few things for my irrational part of the brain to run its course? Like when I made my first film! It rained that day when it was screened in our school. It rained because some drainage got evaporated? I could have crossed it off for precipitation, but I let my irrational mind to run its course. I gave it a meaning, knowingly that it is false. I took it as a cosmic gift; an appreciation. It is fun to think like that. When you are happy, everything looks happy; you begin to notice lotuses in the swamp.

It is not superior, neither is it inferior to have these endless questions and my eternal struggle to answer them. I happened to be this way because of the random events that had occurred around me. Had I not studied the origin of species, I would have concluded that a creator made us. It just happened! All the events; tragic and beautiful had made me what I’m, and made me this annoyingly questioning-everything-being! All world: the system and the pursuit of happiness seems a deception for me—a deviation from the chase of finding answers. Or a mere mask to cover the chaos. 

I see my parents not as completely-figured-out people, but just as people; just like me. They are growing with me, and I’m just a few decades slow in progress. Other than that, we are equals, we are only human. The system we built is like a hamster’s wheel. The system that encourages us to “settle down” is a pretend, for me. It means no value. These emotions, my choices, my love and my dreams are all ties that I have which keeps me running in the wheel. After all this understanding, I still choose to keep running rather than chewing this cage off. But for you, it’s a dream, an endless path you chase. For me, it’s a wall with no way. But I’m tied, and I fear to sever the ties. These emotional ties are the only warm embrace that gives me a purpose. They fill my void. I can choose to sever them and explore what lies beneath the cage. But I’m afraid that I will find nothing because of the knowledge that I have of the chaos. And my last refuge and comfort lie within the ties! 

Knowing that it is endless, I choose to run in the wheel!

Chasing nothing, just giving my comrades a company in their chase.

I’m running holding hands of the people who believe in the chase.

I’m guiding them towards their closure which I know doesn’t exist.

In this world that doesn’t entertain me, What I am but a wasted sperm?

Do I really exist? Do you?

By- Manoj Sri Harsha

Do I exist?
Or Do I not?
How can I resist,
questioning about it a lot.
Am I living in now? Or is this a memory? Am I in the mind of a cow? As a memento mori!
Whenever I relive a memory, It feels as real as now. Is my entire life an allegory? In the mind of that cow!
How can I know that this is present? It's tough to differentiate. The wall is so transparent, for my mind to mediate.
I can remember each moment as far as I can, And that is when I'm three! Now I'm older and a man, In a thought-drifting spree.
If this my life, and this is how I live. Then is it even life? Am I even alive?
Being forced to chase printed paper, that is supposed to help me. But I don't want to prosper, but just a life that's free.
I want that crude, our inner self! Not a pretentious prude, our masked-self!
Back then was great, when the cave was our residence. All we did was mate, and with no thoughts of precedence.
In this mechanical, and robotic life, the things are so cynical, and cruelty is just so rife!
Back to the cave, I can never go. But I can stop to rave! For I can pretend mellow!
But not just my life, it is your life too. Did you ever feel safe? Do you not want out of this zoo?
Have you not hoped this to end? Or have you started penance? Or have you beforehand, Figured out this meaningless existence!
I still can't, and maybe won't! Will never can't Know if life is existent!