Pay a Visit, don't Stay

It's easy to run for a while,
Easy to trust another smile
To speak the truth while lying,
Curse the accused for your crime.
But for the patient wrath of time
By the Godfather's words, I live, I die.

Papers and dust lie on the wood
Each waiting only to be removed
Belittled is his presence today,
For his memories have turned grey
A silent knife seeks blood, sniffs prey
Thirsty dead winds howl over a grave.

Kill me twice, let's taste the sour grapes
Kill me in the name of your helplessness.
For I am unbreakable, I'm invincible;

Are two different coins, life and death
I will belong to only one like I always have
The other is welcome to visit but not to stay.

Thank You, Breaking Bad

All good things come to an end, they say. But this was Bad, and it wasn't just good - it was the absolute Best!
4th July, better known as the American Independence Day would be much more significant in my life, for this is the day I started watching Breaking Bad. Today's date is July 24th. In a matter of 20 days, this 'fiction' has turned my life upside down. For a guy who had forgotten to live for himself, this series has been a new lease of life. Words will always fall short to convey the feelings hidden in the tears running over my cheekbones.

Who is Walter White, exactly? Is he among everyone of us? No, he isn't! He is present in a select few in today's world.  Wodehouse once wrote, 'The Right triumphs in this world much more often than we realize.' It is funny that in our world that stands on foundations of modern twisted logic, we say right and wrong are relative. May be a little introspection will always tell us the absolute difference!
In this bullshit civilization, sacrifice has to hide in love, honesty is met with ridicule, morality is questioned by the immoral.

Have you ever asked yourself what you're really good at? You must have, haven't you? Well, if not then better quit reading this article and fuck off.
So what are you good at? Take a moment. Yes, Now! A little thinking does no harm.
Are you then spending most of your time doing what you just thought about? If you are, I envy you. In case you are like me - doing something you can manage, say in an above average way, are you happy?
Here's a free question : If you're doing something you love with your life, would you ever be able to give it up? When have you felt that you can do something better than anyone else?
 As Walter says, it is rare! If you feel you're the best at something would anyone else asking you to shut your operations matter at all?

I, for one have found a reason to celebrate my life. Yes, I was living my life holed up in a pit, chained with a thousand misgivings. After 20 days, Mr. White has let me drive through the closed gates. No, he hasn't taught me to live his life. Never once has he asked me to be him. He has gifted me a freedom and taught me to value it for the rest of my life.
Being a murderer isn't that bad a thing. It was important to kill my fear.

I am not Walter White. I can never be. I can only learn from him. I am the one who wouldn't listen to him and yet he would persist with me. I hate him for thousands of reasons. Yet I love him without an idea why. At the end, when well wishers fail to rescue me, he always turns up. He will save millions like me, silently and yet he will be prosecuted for being on the Nazi team. Yes, the world will prefer to call him Heisenberg. And I will prefer to call this world a Bitch!

So who am I? I'm everyone who was born Post WW2. I am anyone born with a freedom a few great men thought I deserved but didn't win for myself. It somehow perfectly makes sense now. True, Heisenberg was never in danger, he was the danger! Danger to the danger.

I'll knock when the curtains forget to roll
I'll take my caravan on a desert stroll
Dealers of death will buy what they sell
Crystals will come alive in a reclusive blue
I'll teach you how to love, kill and count
My days are numbered yet my life is new
I'll leave behind a legacy while you're asleep
I opened the cage for the bird that flew.

Dedicated to the loving memory of Walter Hartwell White

Raat

Nijhum raat night-lamp jwele boshe ache
Koto kichu bolar ache tar, sobai ghumonto
Se likhte chay kintu muchtei pare sudhu
Chonder shoshane akkhhor er ahuti bartaman!

Jodi keu jagto tar sathe ki hoto?
Ei bhebe raat ektu dukkho pay;
Keu to karor janyo kore na kichu-
Raat jane, kintu shabdo korte pare na!

Alo raat ke mukhchora bhabe
Raat naki spontaneous noy tar moto -
Kintu se ar ki jane, Bharat barshe
First Order transition physically unacceptable.

Tai raat kauke kichu bole na
Khola janlay proticchobi dyakhe
Samay er katha bhabte shuru kore
Sudhu samay i jane tar gopon sob kichu.

X,Y... A

Wish I had a learner's license
And my sins would be forgotten!

I write and erase my lines. Rarely for the erased lines do I feel sorry. I wonder why people blame the creator when they are hurt. The Creator simply does not have the luxury to care about all His subjects.

You speak of broken dreams
While buying love for a dime
The world swims into your grip,
Few birds are not born to fly.

I don't have much to say today. It's an usual morning with a tinge of unusual. The very fact that I'm writing at 7 a.m. is not such a common phenomenon at MSA II. Well, seasons change in a cycle and so does life. If only our so called love lives followed a similar circle! ;)

The goal keeper is the only one who loves the football. While everyone's desire is to put it in the net, it's the keeper who stands against all in order to prevent the trapping. The football doesn't do anything at all. Yet, it keeps you alive, inside the net or not.

I can only smile to myself,
Conclusions are always hard to find.

After the End

The bullet leaves as she sings a lullaby
Drops of blood and rain turn alibis
The heart starts the process of stopping
His footsteps splash water all over the railings.

The ignition signals for redemption
For each crime the deceased signed
Windscreens keep clearing the view
Tyres roll; the radio hums the rhyme.

Smells and stains evaporate in time
Into the sky for a cleaner breath;
Seasons change and the city turns pink
A famous bullet dies a forensic death.

He finally reaches their tree house
She's there, the lullaby on her lips
                        And he lets the gun fall,
                        Circling through the void;
Night dawns on their world slowly
Exit wounds would soon be forgotten.

Re-constructing (A Breaking Bad Tribute)

The creator looks through the smoke
In search of the mythic blue crystal
The ventilator awaits an oxidant
The exhaust pipe burns crimson gold.

Never mind my business, Electrolyte
The battery is dead, as expected
They teach about the soul that's humane
But this death's no hangover, it's real!

Melodies cry out in writhing pain
Chains of lust dig nails in your brain
A shiny knife draws blood on sand
Pretty wife licks the blood beforehand.

Oh yes, I'm high! Soaring over your lows,
A bastard's mother just sold him to the crows;
The air outside my van is such lush green
My teeth sink into the tongue until you begin to bleed.

Heisenberg, Player marks his territory
Bones of winter fight for heredity.
A taste of what you create is yet to come
The monster, set free will never be quiet.

So congratulations, I'm still awake
But the eye lids have already started to beg
What if the long awaited nap starts now?
What if the monster rises, silently before you?