In this world full of notions about everything that possibly exists, how comfortably discomforted we all are with our own existence.

One should always be drunk. That’s the great thing; the only question. Not to feel the horrible burden of time weighing on your shoulders and bowing you to earth, you should be drunk without respite.

Drunk with what? With Wine, with Poetry, or with Virtue as you please. But get drunk.

And if sometimes you should happen to awake on stairs of a place, on the green grass of a ditch, in a dreary solitude of your own room, and find out that your drunkenness is ebbing or has vanished, ask the wind and the wave, ask stars, birds, or the clock, ask everything that flies, everything that moans, everything that sings, everything that flows, everything that speaks, ask them the time: and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird and the clock will all reply “It’s time to get drunk! If you are not to be martyred slaves of time, be perpetually drunk! With Wine, with Poetry, or with Virtue as you please “

hipsterlifter:

The Vessel of Harmony.

hipsterlifter:

The Vessel of Harmony.

মুক্ত হও, শুদ্ধ হও, পূর্ণ হও।
Be free, be pure, be whole.
Often it is the most deserving people who cannot help loving those who destroy them.
Maktub", she said, "If I am really a part of your dream, you’ll come back one day.
His dreams were big.
Big enough to scare him.
His thoughts were pure.
Pure enough to declare them.
He wanted to travel.
Travel the world all alone.
He set himself free.
In this world unknown.
He wandered in the oblivion.
To find a place of his own.

The most Beautiful things are often times, the most dangerous. 

Story of my Scar

November-24-2010.

Having my earphones plugged in, and Pink Floyd playing; I was being rather careless about what’s going outside my helmet. I was in my own rhythm. While the speeding traffic flashed right by my side, I wasn’t even on a speed of 40 mph. I was cruising as I always do. Then came the country roads; Wheat fields on both sides till the horizon. There were rarely any honking like in cities or highways. I remember seeing a few peacocks flying over the fields. They were beautiful. After sometime on the road, I see some hustle. They were trucks. Village roads don’t have any traffic rules and these can be any trucker’s heaven. Unfortunately two trucks were trying to ruin each other’s heaven. The last sight I remember, while I was on the bike was me trying to dodge a truck coming upfront in a wavy way. About which I’d find that the driver was drunken.

I vaguely remember myself being dragged across a hallway. I had no pain at that time. None at all. I dozed off. Must be quite a time before I see a guy shaking me vigorously trying to get me conscious. I couldn’t see his face. I couldn’t move my head. I felt paralysed Still no pain though.

Bhai Saab, Kisko bulana hai? Koi phone number batao.” (Brother, who do you want to call? Give me some contact to call to.)

I was confused.

Bulana? Kaha? Aur tum kaun ho?" (Call? Where? And who are you?)

Bhai aap PGIM mer ho. Aapka accident hua hai aur formalities ke liye kisko bulana hai woh batao." (Brother, you are at PGIM and tell me someone to call for the formalities.) 

Rohit naam ka ek hi contact hai. Call him." (There’s only one contact named Rohit. Call him.)

Before I could ask him what  exactly happened and how was I brought there, I dozed off again. It was blank. I had no thoughts whatsoever running in my head. After sometime I felt myself being dragged again. I could feel sunlight on my face. They must have been taking me somewhere else. I felt paralysed. I heard Rohit screaming at someone or something. Two people picked me and laid me in the back seat of a car. I wondered why are they taking me away from a hospital. As the car took turns on road, I could sense all that. 

"What the hell am I dreaming?" I thought to myself. It was such a terrifying dream. This was the scariest dream, at-least out of those which I remember. I tried to wake up as I always do when I dream something bad. But I couldn’t. Then it occurred to me. How can I dream? I was on my bike on a road midst of wheat fields is the last thing I remember.

Then I finally woke up. It was the next day. I woke at once. I was lying facing the roof. And then the pain kicked in. I tried getting up. But it was just way too hard for me at that time. I looked around and then at myself. I was wearing a gown. The kind patients wear on an hospital. It took some time for me to accept that what happened was not a dream and it all happened in actual. Somehow I manage myself to get up a bit and sit with my back resting on a pillow. I called for the nurse.

Where am I?”

Fortis.”

Anyone here to see me?

Yes, I’ll inform them that you’re awake.

I had both my arms broken and plastered. Left eye bandaged, right eye swollen and left leg hanging in air and plastered. While I was a little preoccupied overlooking my own sorry state, I heard sobbing. I looked up. It was my little cousin looking at me and crying. She was in her senior years in school, grown up but a baby inside. Being the only child of my parents, I never had the chance to bond with someone in a very brotherly/sisterly manner. She was the closest thing to a sister to me. I absolutely adore her. 

Why are you crying? Are you happy or sad?

You idiot! You’re an complete ass you know that?”

"Stop crying you idiot, I’m still alive with just a few fractures. Nothing serious."

Kichu Bhaat bokte parish tui." (My god can you  bulshit.)

Acha where’s my phone? I want to take a picture.”

Thaam re bhai tui." (Just stop, would you?)

I admit,
I was afraid
to love.
Not just love,
but to love her.
For she was a stunning
mystery. She carried things
deep inside her that no one
has yet to understand,
and I,
I was afraid to fail,
like the others.

She was the ocean
and i was just a boy
who loved the waves
but was completely
terrified to
swim.

combustible-contraptions:

Triumph Engine

combustible-contraptions:

Triumph Engine

combustible-contraptions:

Helmet | Goggles | Gloves | Leathers | Enfield Cafe

combustible-contraptions:

Helmet | Goggles | Gloves | Leathers | Enfield Cafe