It was quite cold that night
Without even a blanket to wrap him
He ran towards the railway station --
The rushes breaking against him
Sending grey flowers into the air
To fill it with dew --
Were you there that night?
Were you the God he thought you to be?
He has dyed his clothes in zafrani
But the sleeves are green, giving the lie --
I can neither live in the world,
Nor renounce it :
A kafir, I yearn for God.

Why do you ask me to choose between God and sin?
It was in sin that i saw God
A kafir I am, so He visited me
God came to me as beautiful as sin --
Yesterday evening in a tavern I saw Him,
And his scarf was dyed in my colors.

~copyright, scio amo
the kafir..lol

A wall...and an unopened Closet

FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H(that's zaid):
lol
a sudden lol...sent to a stranger's scrapbook...
or the beginning of a mating game...


Shiladitya:
u can take a picture of something u see,..

an impersonal comment...zaid adavnces, shilo retreats
classic venetian strategy


Shiladitya:
u can take a picture of something u see,..

zaid's silence provoks shilo..shilo advances
the picture as a metaphor of the self..
come paint me..:p


FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H:
can i???are u a u2 fan????

a little drunken,,where did u2 come from?..


Shiladitya:
a bigtime one! lol

big?..where did that come from?..now you have my full attention..;-D


FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H:
my love is also a crazy fan of u2... i enjoy some of their songs!!!!

predictable enters love..and boys...
o..and did i forget songs?
saki indianized..lol

Shiladitya:
if u cud hav taken the picture there wudnt hav been any make-believe game to satisfy the troubled frenzy..lol

pictures? frenzy? my my..even my ears are blushing..:-I

FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H:
the troubled frenzy is insatiable... vistas can never be completely beheld by our tiny eyes ....

ooo..ooo..the crecendo is rising...ooo
play on...aah

btw..if vistas cant be seen, can they atleast be...umm...pokered?...:)

Shiladitya:
dedicate 'All I want is you' to her....a very fulfilling U2 number...eyes in a moon of blindness...

'HER'!!!!!!!!!!...wowowow...is shilo nuts?
(or being just a tease?..i wonder

FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H:
thats among my favorites too.....v soulful.....dedicate to her????? who her???? i guess u dont carefully read our blogs

sharp retort..go zidddddddddduuuuuu

Shiladitya:
some ones' microscopic visions seldom realizing the true frenzy, tried to look into the screen behind the mirror...brought in some words...they couldnt supress the wrath of the poised night..

shilo ducks under his usual obscurity..:-(..coward...lol

Shiladitya:
may be him !lol

only to swiftly recoup..bloody politically erect..:-D

then...


FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H:
the multiplicity of truth...the shallowness of the mirror....the ineffablity of words...the lonliness of the night....poison maybe....elixir could be....microspocic visions only aggrandize minute non-existance.......ya maybe him.......u wanted to rape scio sometime i had read.....i couldnt picture that lol

MDDLF!!! AM I 'HIM"???/
:-$

not that mind being the stuff others dreams are made off..:-)
i am such an obliging angel..O:-)


Shiladitya:
scio is too lovable to be raped by this nazi!lol

:-D...men in uniform..
[or out of it...lol


FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H:
if u knw scio well enough then ud knw that rape to him mite be the purest ...most passionate expression of love......trust me on this.... all her wants is some one to push him against the wall

Shiladitya:
yeah...the oldest passion of scio is to be driven ...like wriggling against a wonderwall , with wolves howling to devour the sciovian impurity ! lol



FLOCCI­NAUCINI­H:
impurity????..... he is virginal....much to his sad desperation...someday he'll be deflowered

...
...
too stunned to react...
what is it bout men intruding into a flower's fantasy...
o mia rosa...

what is it about a wall that i find so damn appealing? a wall to protect myself. and a wall to be broken.
hope there's no young freud (or lacan..lol) around

will a flower be as charming deflowered?..lol..i wonder..and the bird that will pollinate it?..wont it fly away?
or will it bleed..with the flower..
as the thorn pierces the nightingale's heart...
drawing blood, closing wounds.

work out your imageries...lol

meanwhile..be ready to be pressed against a wall
snarllll

Ode to tahseen

Remember how we loved the rains
Getting drenched to the core
Running around like free souls
Needles piercing our bodies
Wrapping us in shared ecstasy
Greens all around us.
Hungry eyes hoping they could be us
Celebrities of Park Street
Daring to live and beguile
U and I
Oblivious to the world.

Remember how we sat in class
Huddled together at a remote corner
Sneering at the boring lectures
Giggling at the professor’s gestures
Restless in our imposed lassitude
Writing our incoherent thoughts
On thin single lined copies that talked
Didn’t they know we had our own space?
Didn’t they know we created a whole new world of words?
Why couldn’t the professors just catch hold of us?
U and I
Impenetrable in our togetherness

Remember how we walked around the streets of kolkata
Struggling under the dreadful scorching sun
Fearing we’d get tanned
Shading our sweaty faces
With bags, rags, copies, files and hands
Just to prevent sunburns
Your slow footsteps struggled to match my hurried catwalk
I always turned back to look at your permanent grimace.
Your spoilt slothful innocence
Endearing at its best
People leaned out from cars to look at us
Shopkeepers couldn’t help but notice us
We made heads turn
U and I
Two rivers flowing under the open skies.

Remember our great escapes
How we hoodwinked three professors
Slipped out and bunked class
To watch a movie
Or sit at ccd
We roamed around pantaloons
Window-shopped at Westside
You enjoyed the attention of a salesman at planet m
Wherever we went you paid the bill
And I paid the tip.
How we avoided your father’s friend
You walked ahead
I walked behind
What if your bitchy relatives saw us?
What if juicy rumors did their rounds?
We had thrown caution to the winds
U and I
Perfect partners in crime.


Remember how much we talked
Face to face, talking copies
Phone calls smses et all.
We woke up to each other’s voices or words.
We went to sleep with the same
We would study together in our separate homes
Racking our tired brains.
Is there anything that escaped our words?
Is there anything that we failed to express?
We were together even when miles apart
U and I
And time just flied….

Remember how good we looked together
Our classmates would bet their lives
Believing there was something between us
Even the professors were curious
We stood out among the crowd
We stood out among the audience
You pretty faced beautiful girl
I the tall handsome n gentle man
Weren’t we what adolescent dreams are made of
How they wanted us to be what we were not
How they wished they could prove our denial wrong!
U and I
Raising the bar
Selling romantic dreams

Remember how much we shared
Our joys and sorrows were inextricably linked
I cried your tears
You smiled my smile.
How we would sing along.
How we would love the same songs
How we would not share a word sometimes
And yet know each other’s most hidden thoughts
Our silences even spoke to each other.
Our shadows walked together
Your eyes would question
My eyes always had the answers
Didn’t they envy what we shared?
Didn’t they wish our story was theirs?
U and I
Inebriated
On an emotional high…

Remember always the times that have passed
Now we have busy lives
We have our own journeys to tread
We have our own battles to win
We have our own separate lives to lead
Yet somewhere we are connected
Yet somewhere our souls communicate
Yet somewhere our love is intact
Yet somewhere our feelings still match
Yet somewhere we are just the same old people
Yet somewhere we are just the way we are
U and I
‘hum’ and ‘tum’
Us always
Us forever!!!!!!

by zaid al baset
© 2007 by Zaid

The Butt..or Man as a symbol

What, after all, is Man?....

all our present philosophy is obsessed with him..we speak of human rights and human dignity and most of all humanity...we serenade on love and all that it means to be humane..kind generous courteous saintly...
rot...lol

to get a perspective let me quote two wellknown philosophers...

Oration on the Dignity of Man
Giovanni Pico della Mirandola

excellent man...a bit whoozy n too optimistic in a typical renaissance way...

'Most esteemed Fathers, I have read in the ancient writings of the Arabians that Abdala the Saracen on being asked what, on this stage, so to say, of the world, seemed to him most evocative of wonder, replied that there was nothing to be seen more marvelous than man. And that celebrated exclamation of Hermes Trismegistus, ``What a great miracle is man, Asclepius'' confirms this opinion. ....man is the intermediary between creatures, that he is the familiar of the gods above him as he is the lord of the beings beneath him; that, by the acuteness of his senses, the inquiry of his reason and the light of his intelligence, he is the interpreter of nature, set midway between the timeless unchanging and the flux of time; the living union (as the Persians say), the very marriage hymn of the world, and, by David's testimony but little lower than the angels.'

man as a marriage hymn???...gosh,.,...these romans are crazy...
tho..like most latinos i know...rather passionate...:-D

voltaire n shakespeare wouldnt mind too much either i suppose...

then lets take the indian philosopher...zaid al baset talking to his hag, swastika...waxing eloquent on his (ex?-) lover c...

zaid: he was good lo0oking .
i thnk i loved his ass more than him anews.
swastikarimi: lollollollol.
that was lovelyyyyyyyyyloll;ol
zaid: waht?
ya i just miss his ass coz as a person he was ass only
swastikarimi: lollollol..
perfect bitching

bitching?..or was he just being truthful?

what is someone to us?...a voice? a letter? a butt? a shoulder?
scary...but aren't we sometimes just symbols..big stilletoes you have a fetish on...or maybe a cuddly teddy you just cant get rid off
are we ever men? lower than angels higher than beasts? what are we seriously?

swas thinks her lovelife is just a broken bed...[its true..she broke a bed while...umm...:-D
zaid thinks his is a broken wrist..[c armtwisted him,..proving wifeabuse isnt a heteronormative thing alone...lol

are we ever loved as we?..or as metaphors supplements signs?
a hallmark greeting card, a poem on charity..pictures hieroglyphs

surrounded by senses, we fall down and worship idols...

on a positive tune, its not all bad,,having a good..umm...image..can take you places..:-D

zaid: yippeee
9:48 AM become gay
me: LOL
lol
lol
zaid: lose more weight n start seein me
me: why???

lol
zaid: we'll be fine only
me: lol
lol
zaid: as in together in love n fuck
me: lol
lol
lol
lol
lalalala
9:49 AM zaid: see it
if u like it

me: :-)
zaid: u can experiment with men
me: LOL
lol
lol
9:50 AM and u will be my teacher?
:p
zaid: yes
ill do u ever so gently
me: lol
who says i dont like rough?..:p
9:51 AM zaid: no it hurts a lot but


im thick also..
9:52 AM thick
me: dahling...do u think u will only top me?
;p
9:53 AM zaid: na
mutual fuclking.....
u do i do
9:54 AM me: lol
lol
versatile renaissance man
zaid: yes
also so gorgeoues


9:55 AM zaid: yippppppeeeeeeeee
so scio
whn u want me n where?
condoms ull wear???
me: lol
lol
lol
ol
lol
lol
lol
lol
lol
dahlinggg...wherent u supposed to b mongamous?.
:-D
9:56 AM zaid: yes
i am
to u
me: purr

unfortunately, i think i will remain straight for a little more time..
and there's always it...
my repertoire of symbols..wolves and birds...

tralala

ps: picture chosen by swas..
[sexpearian aside..is she lesbo?..or bi?...
marry swas get another girl free
yipeeeeeeh..:-D
come to straightman's fantasy land..:-D

THE GREAT PATHAN FIGHT

As the title holds the key to its content, needless to say this fight comprises of two Pathans (well, I really doubt the origin of the fighters involved, one says he is a domiciled Bengali (he doesn’t care a wee bit about the aboriginality of his ancestors), the other claims he was born and brought up in a dark den in arid Afghanistan.

But being a witness to the pugnacious nature of the two personas (that of Zaid al Baset and Maisim Mirza), it is hard to resist the temptation of concluding that they both are nothing but Pathans. Oh, how I loved the cricketers, the sheer good looking Wasim Akram and Shahid Afridi- the Pathans of pulchritude! Oh yes! Both Mirza and Zaid are extremely handsome- that’s another proof of Pathanhood.

So how did the verbal duel begin? Blame it on G-talk. Yester night my G-talk had conked and I couldn’t chat with Zaid furtively. Orkut appeared to be our saviour- forget about stealth and surreptitiousness.

Zaid, poor lover, was confused as usual about his single status. He couldn’t cope with the fact that none was waiting for him to bump into his arms. So he decided to see again his lover’s undulating sand dunes dotted with cactus (read: his lover’s butt with boils). While deciding to hold the hands of his lover encore, he became perplexed, so he came online to see me playing agony aunt to him.
…………………………………………………………………………………………
The agony aunt session was going perfect. Sometimes I acted as Malaika Arora( remember the love-problem show on MTV?), sometimes I was as shrewd as Suhel Seth. But Orkut, being the grotto of all the perverts and voyeurs across the globe, whispered into the ears of its members about the spicy love session going on in the scrap books of Zaid and mine. Zaid and I did not mind the presence of the ghosts, but some of the spectres were so enthusiastic that they could not hold their tongues back. Mirza had a say on Zaid’s love story which is soon going to be as popular as Eric Seagull’s book. But Mirza with the likes of Camus and Kafka doesn’t care much about mundane love stories….natural, he called Zaid’s story a “not so sorry but a stupid story” and offered me an online cup of coffee to get the fretful story out of my mind.

Who knew that “not so sorry but a stupid story” punch line had the power of an atom bomb?? The American Orkut became the Hiroshima and Nagasaki of 2007!
................................................................................................................................................................
zaid:
sweetheart....if only some ppl concerned themselves with the stories of their own lives or the lack of it.. than opine on stories which they really cant fathom wnt the world be a haven....(U)

zaid:
if only some ppl had the ability to understand the finer and subtle nuances of a language........then nincompoops would get the hint ......use an ofxord dictionary n do a google search on sarcasm( as a form of rhetoric)



and here comes mirzu's defence
مرذا:
cool can you try english now

cunning mirzu is enjoing the wrath of zaidism
مرذا:
aaaah aaaaaah this guy is killing..what vocabulary what syntax.. what "oxord"




the pen is mightier than the sword- encore!
zaid:
i knw i can kill with words....thank you....as far as the typographical errors ..well i have better things to do than type msgs to a loser who really has nothn better to do than being..... well a loser!!!( of the highest cult.......)

mirza to me(or is he actually hinting at zaid? ;) )ا
مرذا:
well....shhh. may your words not hurt the ones you speak of, might be that they are just around the corner.

mirzu is hurt, so it seems...to zaid
مرذا:
well..me i all awe..how virtuoeus of you!

mirzu seeking empathy from me
مرذا:
read my scrap from zaid...how kind!

the ever furious zaid:
zaid:
as far as virtues go.....the only virtue i religiously follow is that of nt being virtuous 2:29 am (0 minutes ago) zaid: well..me i all awe..how virtuoeus of you! ... n dearwest u really need to work on ur grammer....dont they have wren n martin in afghanistan?????

the tired zaid/the end/:(
zaid:
anews take care .....heres wishing u a happy story.......

turn of mirzu to get mad at zaid...tells him to get lost...total sympathy to the naive zaid, the poor zaid.
zaid:
is that all u can say ???get lost??how sorry n stupid ......so there we come a full circle ma friend.

mirza, the bull. zaid, the matador.
مرذا:
whatever....and plz am not ur friend

the modest zaid:
zaid:
well im a philanthrope... i call every inconsequential human being a friend...just to humour them u knw.....

oh! the fight is still on. mirzu is back wid a bang after fagging. The power of a cigarette!
مرذا:
anddd? i know my grammar sucks, but doesn't "..." at the end of a statement mean you are going to vomit some more of crap?

zaid is back too.this time accompanied by his passion for a-posteriori as well as a-priori!!!
zaid:
dearest ppl like u are at best worthy only of my excrements......whch really is so much more valuable than ur whole self... u knw waht...honestly u arent evn worth my stinking bile ridden vomit......

The ever monstrous mirzu:
مرذا:
anddddd? do I have to remind you grammar?

amores perros part 2. :(
zaid:
well every dog has his day.......:).....

bark-estra
مرذا: yes. do not restrain yourself, must say your grammar is astounding..aaand?

the end.finally. or is it like the evergreen end of z-c fling???
zaid: now u are boring me......do dont this gandhigiri and and.....give me more types.....im bored.....gdnite....n grow up....tc!


The biggest brawl ever on Orkut lasted for 2 hours. Venom in their souls, the Pathans hit the bed (no, not together) with bad taste in their mouth. And I, the PoMo Sanjay from Mahabharata went to bed with a content heart hoping to see more of that brouhaha next day. But man proposes, god disposes! Next morn an instance of unrequited love at first sight ruined my hope. Zaid had a glimpse of a snap of Mirza (aaaaarghhh…why did I mail the photo to Zaid?) and instantly fell in love with him!!!!!

Is there any schism between love and hatred after all?

-The Shepherdess

words fly....

Words fly, words lie
Words dream, words wake
Words droop to cry
In the time of earthquake
That intoxicates the black river and its sunless tributary
Digging a furtive furrow in a heart of pebbles painted with frost.

-The Shepherdess

Break-up High...lol

In case anyone didnt know..this is the time of th year popularly called Break-up High

or the seasom when your fondest hopes are dashed, and greatest devilries unleashed..yum

why?...well it is monsoon, the rains have just begun to fall, washing the sky. it is the young rain, not the stale rain that fall on streets of garbage and mud, but the rain that brings a pang in one's heart..making you feel the hollow inside..the unsatisfaction...the feeling that you love, but no one loves you back...

ask the yaksha of meghaduta...kalidasa definitlely knew what he was talking bout...the yaksha separated from his beloved by a curse is exiled many hundreds of miles away in a faraway mountain...yet damn, he cant admire the nature, or go rockclimbing, but has to think of his beloved al times...and, worst, choose a cloud o carry his message to her...

how more of a diva could you get...:-$

its true nowadays too...our latterday yakshas n yakshis start writing [generally saccharine..and scarcely readable...] poems..they r so dripping with honey n candy u wanna eat them than read them....[witness eg, the two posts below..;-D...]

and start pining away..or in case of the author of the last post...fattening away from overeating in front of a tv showing [what else?] mushy romantic soaps...

sheesh...
who invented the rains???

too take more examples...

girl G....she falls everyday for anything that moves on legs...preferrably men..but known to have spent the night with women too..nothing wrong in that...except come june...she must start liking a singer more than his appropriate for any healthy redblooded promiscuous female to do...gets hurt...starts hating him...stares at the wall...writes reams of poetry...excellent stuff [she is the exception...okay...zaid writes really brilliant too...to be honest..:-D]....but makes herself miserable...and cant even start lusting after someone new..[okay,,,except another married star..but thats oops exeptional...]

boy B...another gonner...known to be a a masochist...generally classifies people a-posteriori..is a good friend of above coz she has a heart-shaped...well....a-posteriori..;-D...been in a tortuous relationship for almost three years...with a guy...[alas for lady above, he isnt buying what she is selling...MUCH TO MY GLEE]....coz of well....lets quote...

B: heelooo
me: hmmm
how r u?
11:27 PM B: c has really left mei feel so usedlike my love has no meaning
me: B
look
move on
he wasnt worth it
when u dump someone dump him well
B: im am nt sad bt i thnk my emotions were played with life goes on bt still
me: he was just an exploiter
11:28 PM B: i loved him with all my soul u knw
me: but he was necessary
to break u
B: anews wahtever how are u?
me: n ur pride
very bad
i will tell u later
B: pride is intact
me: lol
lol
n manhood
B: need a fuck
11:29 PM me: LOL

which is fine...except that thanks to the monsoon, his cockadoodleness is sighing away his nights, and sleeping away his days..cant blame him..that c was really a freak...

girl D...loves a man for two years...then just coz i have danced once with her...[ok..to b honest, it was a damn good tango..:-D]...has to confess that very evening she loves me...and in class has to scribble lovenotes to me...geeeesh...come monsoon, she is breathing fire..when i tell her i dont want her [after giving loads of hints and pinches of salt..:-D]..she burns me with eyes and words..[as only nubile girls can], complains about me to all her friends....doesnt get much response..coz i hav..umm...spent time with them in the rain too..winkwink...lol...complains to teachers...again obvious lack of response...so abuses me and struts off

now..i like strutting peahens...but still..one can only have so much of something..lol

boy S...falls in love with his cousin brother...tucks gifts under his pillow n sheets,,,[what sort of gifts i wonder] while the poor straight boy is prolly geting a morning woody...i do so feel vulnerable as a straightboy sometimes...must remember to avoid my cousin brothers [in any case,as wilde said one must always hate one's cousins..]....not that there's anything wrong in being nonstraight...:-I

i could go on multuplying examples...i will if ppl ask me..[there, thats a hint..:-D]..who knows i might even reveal ur secrets?

so i hate monsoon and i absolutely hate love...never ben in love..[thankgod]...two friends have publicly reviled me as being footloose..i say 'i am waiting for the right person'...:p...if i did fall in love, i would prolly avoid the monsoons like hell....and after sufficient time has passes, confess that exalted and odious emotion to my unfortunate beloved....if the beloved agreed, bon...if not, i'll prolly prefer a clean end...no messy entanglements for me..thankyou...if i stop loving someone, i'll stop forever..[maybe after sticking a few needles into their voodoo dolls]

anyways,,to conclude our discourse...
there's still a silver lining for all u hopeless lovers...fall for me..;-D

as the following quote of post-c B shows...

11:57 PM B: hmmmm
11:58 PM waht odes reciprocation mean to u ???
me: reciprocation means loving me with every molecule of its body
11:59 PM savng me from myself
n from the darkness outside n inside
putting me bfor everything
B: every1 doesnt love the same way
me: i hav a high costprice..but i am worth it
12:00 AM lol
B: yes u are
me: :-)
B: bt u mst cnsider the time restraints>>>>
distance restrainbts
me: as u r too
12:01 AM B: i love u scio
u knw that rite/
if ever u wanta loving fuck im there
me: lol
ya..i know
B: n im there whn u are fucked up
12:02 AM me: lol
lol
lol
can i blogpost this?
devilish grn
grin

lalalala

diary of a broken hearted 'mind'

09:12:02: i am awake..or am i waking up in a dream????no ..wait..i can see my room...its vibrant blue and yellow walls....my fish(es) are leisurely roaming inside the aquarium....rummaging for food..digging...my home gym looks as dilapidated as my soul..i deliberately avoid looking at the huge mirror in my room..yes i am wide awake.....
09:13:00:i narrow my eyes

09:13:01: i shut them

09:13:03: i open my eyes....rub them ..blink..life sucks..
.
09:15:45: life still sucks...its been drizzling outside...the sky looks vague and lost.. the clouds have no meaning..they are just hovering about the sky aimlessly just like my eyes hover around them.. the breeze is yawning ...stretching...its making the tired looking curtains fret..it reaches me... i can feel it on my face....i tell the breeze to go get a life...

09:16:52: i will sleep....i shut my eyes and try all sorts of postures in bed....a kamasutra between me and my pillows...head on pillow...head below pillow..head without pillow..pillow clutched by my arms tightly as if i am holding you..(i won't let you go)..pillow between the legs...pillows all around me....nothing works...i can't sleep...sleeping pills are like a politician's promise ..fake with no consequense....i give up....

09:20:12: i am standing at the window...nobody seems happier than the insects it seems...i see bees arranged on top of each other like neatly ironed clothes on a shelf...i wonder what orgy like ritual are they performing....on the other side of the road i look at the square building with square balconies with square towels hanging on undulating ropes and a 1940 engraved on the upper edge of its facade staring at me blankly...(if only it was you). the road is glistening grey....
wet earth is burping..footsteps squelch on dirty mud..puddles all over... garbage soup....an urchin is answering nature's call on the pavement....i wonder what would shiv sena have to say about public display of excretion...( you never held my hands in public.maybe you were ashamed of me..you were were'nt you?)

09:25:43:i am staring at the mirror ....i smile a smile that would make monalisa cry and run out of her painting..my canine teeth have become yellower than the permissible limit of beauty....i brush my teeth hard and fast and long..canine teeth still look yellow( how little i have looked at myself these days...all i did was look at you.. admire you)....i wash my face...

09:30:25: im inside the bathroom ...i look at myself in the mirror..i realize my robust physique has shrunk into a delicate figure if you know what i mean.....(i miss the soft flesh of your body)

10:45:33; im travellin in an auto balancing myself next to the driver.. the driver is exasperated because of the traffic...he begins a religious chant of invectives..."mother's cunt !!! the school releases its students at four different times during the day!!!!! mother"s cunt..it causes traffic.....mother's cunt ..reduces our income....when the auto is empty there are no takers.. bloody cock when it is full..evryone wants a ride...bloody whores!!!!!" i don't know how to react...i blush....as though they were sweet nothings and give a silent nod...(you have abused me worse...)

11:05:35: i have reached the university.... if anything looks more meloncholy than me then it is the universtity..i find comfort in its sorrow...(there was no sorrow in your eyes when u left me..they were mocking me)

11:14:40: i have reached a dark looking corrider where bright looking girls and some stupid looking boys are talking animatedly..they are discussing answers to questions being asked at the interview with those already interviewed...i give all answers...girls give me a look of admiration...someone tells me im super intellectual...i think balls!!!!(were'nt you in love with my mind?)

12:25:35: returning home....i wish i could sing...i want to sing the song 'aaj jaane ki zid na karo'
i hum the first line and realize that my own soul will leave the body if i continue.. so i stop....i wish i could sing my pain away....i wish i could dance in the rain....(you must be listening to rock songs..playing air guitar)

14:18:56:im restless.. i surf channels hysterically....i try listening to the radio..some bloke is confessing undying love to a girl...i sigh n shut it.....(i am not missing you)..

15:45:23:im lying in bed ....making grand plans about my future...ill study hard...ill do all the right things.... ill stay focussed.... all im focussing on is my cell phone really....switching it off ...then on ...off again... on again.... off on off on off on off on!!!!!!upturned in general mode....away from me in silent mode....i play a game on it....(u think ill wait for your call and keep looking at the cell..noway!!!)

16:35:28: i look at myself in the mirror and smile again...why have the canines become so bloody yellow....is it jaundice i wonder....i brush again.....i tell myself its looking off white.....suddenly i remember how taj mahal is becoming yellow too....air and water pollution....(maybe its your kisses...you yellow dirty big teeth monster how cute you were)

18:32:31: i have walked so much.....im looking good ..people are staring at me....lifes calling me out....i have a half smile on my face...i look at noone walking past me .....im just aware of their stares....a song is playing on my mind.....im moving on...im walking fast....i have no destination though....there are so many peolpe in this world..so many places to go...so many moments to experiance...i feel exhilarated..i feel hopeful ..i feel alive....(Ill forget u ....lifes too long)

20:55:11: spoke to a dear friend...love is taking a toll on her..she had unanswered questions....i knew all the answers ...played agony uncle to the hilt....how much i know about love, life and things beyond.....(i really didnt expect this from you...i didnt know you were such a hypocrite)

22:35:27: lying in bed...silently....staring at nothing....thoughts obfuscated by the noise of an angry downpour...(why?WHy?Why?)

23:15:49: i survived today.....(i survived you)

00:00:00; tommorow is a new day...a new beginning....( without you)

by zaid al baset
© 2007 by Zaid

You, sun, do not satisfy me
Like a snowstorm pelts a bear
Then leaves me spreadeagled on the ice
As it evanishes, only a faint water streak
On the tongue, as beautiful as a mirage
In the desert whose four corners
Are the four minaars
That tie my arms, as the doves swoop down
To drink from the cool green pool
And a word escapes to you
There is no God but God, and so I worship you
Long did I worship statues
Now shall I adore you in empty halls
And whose windows carved in mirror reflect
Me, not you
I can't leave you -- if I do, my soul shatters
And boys play with it, in their cruel smiles a new game
I sit down and collect the pieces
Every shard shines with your thought
Do you exist? I do not know
I to exist -- must believe in you
For you are, so I am
If you are not, I will not be...
Just a lie, a thinning blood.

What is prayer but flirting with God, I asked
God laughed, and gave me you
I prayed no more.
The jealous God laughed in your eyes
I clutched your hair
And forgot myself
The drowning breezes
Swept dust away from the courtyard
The bared graves swept by brown leaves
Turned their heads and went to sleep
Till Judgement Day will wake all men
And ask them how much their love was worth

Worth enough, merciful rogue, to give us spring,
And wine when it has left, a cup of fire
And ice to cool it, the dark span of lengthening night
When I wait for you, though you do not come.

Will it not be God's proudest day,
When pointing to his heart, Man shall say
This, God, is your temple, worship me,
Or go away --
Be conquered by what you have made
I am your qiblah, or you are not so good a sculptor
If your art couldn't make, what I worship everyday.

~~copyright...scio amo...lol

run ....
run as fast as you can
run for your life...
run faster than your breaths
run faster than your thoughts
run so that all u see is a mirage ....
run so that each image blurs into another
till u see nothing........or better still
run with your eyes closed
run run away from your senses
and hide yourself inside an empty room
with no windows....
run run run u bloody coward
dont u dare fall in love
cause u cant endure the intesity of pain
dont u dare writhe in lust
cause you fear the esctasy of touch...
run run run
your senses will conquer your timidity....
but u must be a coward all your life
shouldnt you?
so run run run lest u learn to live
run away from this new religion of the senses...
go to the church and confess
go to the mosque and ask forgiveness
go to the temple and ring bells
curse yourself cause u sought pleasure
curse yourself cause u did what u wanted to
curse yourself u rotten sinner
curse your senses...curse the secrets they hide
curse your desires
n wait till u die.....
u will go to heaven..
or burn in hell
and honestly nobody has time to care..
not even your sad angry god and his contrived doctrine.....
good bless
amen!!!!!!!!!!!!!

by
zaid al baset

Zaidism--a Riposte!

It is not known if zaid's haven is or is not heaven..most likely being damp wet and untouched, it resembles a prehistoric cave rather than heaven..but well, we could ignore that

more serious is this newfangled cult..utter nonsense if u ask me...pleasure can never be found in human beings...

make war not lust..if u ask me, frankly speaking...human beings are not worth loving..if you love them, they will tease you and throw you away like a discarded linen..ignore them, and they will cling to you

take pleasure in yourself..you are your own heaven,,,never love.,,never lust either,,,those young things will fade away,,,fly away leaving you alone...one day you will come to your window, and stare at an open cage

take pleasure in yourself...so zaid, put bananas to creative uses...lol..you know they are good lubricants too...dont wait for your love...use lemons...love nature as rousseau says...rub yourself against a tree...stare wildly at a sunset...dear reader, lay yourself on a beach withput anything on you but a smile...and feel the warm sand caress you...coax you into abandon...they will never leave you..unlike humans...

feel the breeze teasing your ear..use that opportunity to pluck a jasmine..and wrapping it in an envelope send it to your ex's present partner...by all means, ruin their relationship..and welcome sin into your world...hell too is in you

dont ever love..are you in love?...i'll tell u the symptoms...[coz if u r, then run,,.]....do u wait for a word from ur friend as tho it were the most precious thing in the world? does a word from her or him make you feel you hav reached heaven. gained light? do you feel you cant ever leave them, coz if you do you will kill yourself...do you prefer eternal torment to the thought of leaving them?

when you think of leaving them, do you feel like vomiting? when you feel they are leaving you, do you fell someone has torn apart your intestines,,and like some weird japanese harakiri has left you all twisted up without anything inside you

do you want to be with your friend all your life? do you feel they are the best in you, and you are nothing without them?

run...

and zaid is wrong...we fools we fall in lust and end in love...we look for a casual fling, an anonymous flirtation, a brief rondel, and then.,,,,and then they grow on you,,,those young things,,,,they grow on you...till your every sense vibrates to them, and them only

run,,,

never fall in lust...that coquettish glance with which you steal hearts...that hand with which you warm a thigh, it will imprison you,,,till your lust will imprison you.,.till your desires enfold you.,,,and all you will love is your beloved

run,,,

put fruits to good uses,,,use sand creatively...or even a blindfold..take pleasure,,ye.,,but in the sun and the empty sky,,[soon even in the clouds, you will start seeing their face,,and the sun it will seem is painting the horizon with the blush of their cheeks..run,,,]

just run away from yourself....from your senses.,.into dark alleys..into empty pubs..no matter where....just run away from yourself

and run away from zaidism

for we poor men,,,we start to fall in lust..with a flutter of an eye, and the swish of a word.,..a carissime, a song of the streets...

and we are in love..

fie...