When heaven turns to hell...

Bikers can be sub divided into many types. The most common classification can be ‘Tourers’, ‘Racers’, ‘Stunters’ and ‘Commuters – people who call themselves bikers just because they own one.’ And then there are some who would like to do everything, from commuting on the street to blazing open highways and turning twisties (ghats) into their own little race track. We somewhat belong to that category. We are always in search of high speed corners with least traffic and more important, least chances of an accident involving other elements of traffic. A few ghats do offer this bliss to us bikers. A bliss to an extent that these places are as good as heaven for us. Instead of living for more than half a century and being dependable on your relatives in the last years of your life, its better to crash and die in such a heaven. Yes, the crash better be fatal, else the ‘dependant’ factor will enter your life much much earlier. Anyway, bitter part aside, lets get back to our heaven. In and around Pune, the places we like to invade again and again are the Khambatki ghats and the road to Amby Valley, courtesy Sahara Group.

During the rains we don’t really go to the Khambatkis because the Katraj ghats which are the origin of the highway to Khambatki turns into a lunar surface. A new pothole is born every minute on these roads. So by the time you cross these, your vehicle’s suspension is ruined. So there is absolutely nothing left to enjoy by the time you reach Khambatki. Hence the only heaven that we can raid during monsoons is Amby Valley, or so we think.

This time around, we decided to go to Amby Valley at night. The mode of transport was not a bike, but a car. Five people, me, 2 friends and a couple. At 10ish we set out on a trip which was not to an unfamiliar destination. But still we had goose bumps even thinking about it. We took the express way, the fastest way to reach Lonavla on 4 wheels. It took us around 16 mins to touch Lonavla. By around 11 we were sitting at Smokin’ Joes for an Italian dinner with an Indian touch. We knew we wouldn’t get any food at Amby Valley due to the rains. So a variety of hot pizzas was a good option. The rains had gotten heavier in Lonavla. My car was parked outside, right in front of the pizza joint. The rain water was caressing each and every curve of this beauty. The sight was nothing less than watching a beautiful lady having a graceful bath. Inside, we were sitting on a nice wooden dinner furniture with our nose being tickled by the wonder aroma of the cheese melting on those pizzas as they were being baked. In spite of the cold weather outside, a glass of soft drink was still very soothing on the throat. After treating ourselves to a wonderful dinner, we finally came to know that we were the only customers inside and that it was time for the joint to pull the shutters down. We cleaned up the dirty work of paying the bills and moved out. It was around 1 in the night and we were going to head for Amby Valley.

Amby Valley is actually built in a valley with its entrance not at the bottom of the mountain but at the top of it. It’s supposedly a wonderful drive up there, only if you know how to enjoy it. We joined the way to Amby Valley, a dark black, winding stretch of road disappearing into such infinite curves that the horizon was not visible at all. The sky looked like a reflection of the road, broad and dark, the stars appearing like the small lights we could see around on the land. It was a complete mirror image. For some reason all were silent. The only sound that could be heard was that of the rain drops hitting the surface of my car and breaking into millions of small droplets. We could feel the temperatures of our blood dropping slowly. We were still silent. The headlights were trying to give their best possible illumination. After a few curves, things were getting worse. The rain was slowly reducing. Liquid reality turned to a gaseous one. A moist fog was slowly making an entrance. It felt as if someone was blowing the fog onto us. Small streaks of wind flowed through it. The fog started getting denser as we were hunting for the white marker lines beside the road as guidance for driving further and on the right track. No civilization could be seen anywhere. The vipers were working vigorously to keep the windshield clean. A few more curves, the fog seemed to be thinner. We decided to stop. As soon as the engine stopped everything broke into a complete silence. So silent that we could hear heartbeats coming from five sources. We dared to get out of the vehicle. We could just see the road a few meters ahead of us. Everything else was covered in fog. Only our surrounding ground was with a thin layer of fog. The feeling was no less than standing in the middle of a spotlight with thousands of eyes watching you. It sure did feel like we were being watched by someone. Maybe the same someone who was blowing the fog onto us. Maybe the same someone who cleared a small stretch of road for us. May be the same someone who was responsible for the silence. Maybe the same someone who was commanding the pace of our heartbeats. Even the hustle of wet leaves with each other was trying to say something. Maybe it wanted us to go back. Maybe nature was having its own party that night and were the party crashers. It seemed so, because the look we were getting from the environs was nothing less than the look an unwelcome party crasher gets. No one had the u-know-what to go ahead into the hypnotizing fog. We were going into a state of brain freeze already. We turned the car around with much difficulty and finally set out on our way back. Things started getting even spookier. The road which we came on was covered with heavy rains on our way up. But on the way back the same road under the blanket of the same dense fog that was staring at us a few mins earlier. There was no sign of rain. We somehow finished the downhill and entered the heart of Lonavla again. We were over-joyed to glimpse civilization around. The road that is heaven for all bikers during the other 9 months of the year, was worse than hell in those 90 mins. Even with the air-con switched on, most of us were sweating. We didn’t need to talk about what he had been through. The mind waves were communicating with each other and that was enough to keep us all silent.

We joined the express way again. We were ready to face a heavy rain again, but no fog. We thought that it was the end of the nightmare. But it wasn’t. My fuel indicator was gearing up to bungee jump to the red line, only to stay there and not come up again like a normal bungee jump would. According to my knowledge of the Express way, there was no fuel pump anywhere till the end of the highway. That meant around 40 kms to be done. The air-con had to go off. The fogging that it lead to on the windshield had to be taken care of by the trusty old cloth. We had to drive in an economy mode. And even after all this, there was no guarantee if she would be able to make it till the end. For some reason, it felt like that someone was still watching us. We were crawling on the road trying to burn each drop of petrol with the best possible efficiency. The end of the express way was driving closer and the gap between the fuel indicator needle and the end of the scale could only be read with a microscope. We could see the light of the fuel pump at some distance. The light to us, was similar to what the light at the end of the tunnel would mean to dying person. We finally arrived at the pump. Barely 100 meters before the pump, the car started giving us a jerky response. On reaching the station we found no attendants to fill her up. Finally after honking a couple of times, a man with a torch in his hand, and wrapped in blankets came walking towards us. He had sore red eyes which didn’t blink even once as he approached us. It felt as if these would the same eyes watching us along our trip. We told him the amount to fill up and he did that without a word, juggling his line of sight continuously between the fuel meter and the people inside the car. After he filled up I just handed over the money to him and got my butt moving immediately. I dropped everyone back to their homes and set back on a journey to mine. Things were calming down in my head. It was almost an hour before dawn. But the dark clouds still hovered in the sky. The horizon was still not visible. I was cruising back. Had no intentions or energy to floor the pedal. When I was almost near my place, I saw a ‘cyclewala’ standing at the side of the road. God knows what he was up to, why he was standing there. All that I could notice was, even he was staring at me. The last 1 km was finished with blazing the street. I had enough of everyone staring at me. My building gate was closed. I got down from my car, opened the gate and sat back to drive the car into the parking. A stray dog that always runs behind every car including mine, no matter what weather, what time, was sitting silently in the corner of my parking today. His ears were up and eyes again, were staring at me. Right from the point I parked the car, till the point I started climbing the stairs, those eyes were following me. I didn’t check my mail, I didn’t switch on the monitors. All I did was just crash on the bed. I don’t remember if I had any dreams. I don’t remember if I got up shouting. All I know is - I had been through a nightmare.

***This picture was taken at the place where we stopped. Not even a single pixel on it is doctored.

Evolution of the Fireblade

If the evolution of the Fireblade were to be written about, it would run into loads of pages and it still wont be enough. So why dont I just try and sum up the whole process ? Here goes....

The 1000 RR shares the same nose and swing arm with the 954 RR...

...the 954 RR shares the same chassis with the 929 RR...


...the 929 RR shares the same swing arm, suspension and braking system with the 919 RR...

...the 919 RR shares the same chassis and dynamics with the 900 RR...


...the 900 RR finally is the origin of the DNA shared by all these bikes, called the 'Fireblade' !!!

Undoubtedly the best designer out there is none other than the father of the blades, Tadao Baba

My Kid Brother’s Anniversary

I’m a single child, no brothers, no sisters. A few cousins though. But it’s a known fact, no matter how warm a relation you share with your cousins, your friends are always more closer to you. Some relations can become so strong that they are miles ahead of the term ‘Friendship’. By default, one has only one best friend, I thankfully, I have many. Some of them are so good friends of mine that I guess this paragraph must be the first incident after months and months, where I am referring to these people as friends and not brothers. One such friend of mine is Souly. He too is a single child and as far as I know, he doesn’t have any cousins either. I met this dude in late 2003. A black-metal freak, always clothed in all black, from hair bands to socks, from nail polish to shoe polish, everything black. Since then things have changed a lot, in him, as well as our friendship. Our friendship has grown stronger, stronger to an extent that he is nothing less than a kid brother to me. He and some more friends of ours are now like a close knit family.

As far as Souly goes, he has started looking like a human now. He has become more subdued compared to what he was earlier. The last time his 7 channel speaker system must have played black metal must be more than a year back. Undoubtedly the person responsible for this is the love of his life. The girl he met around an year back. PeeeeChik, as we call her, added to his life, a lot of love and warmth that he so badly needed. Its like an exotic dish you prepare, but there is something missing, one ingredient. You add that and everything is perfect. Souly’s life was somewhat similar. Everything was going right, but it lacked something. A person who could love him with a clean heart, understand him and help him understand life in a more positive way. She did it for him. She has added a spark to his life and he stands by it.

Coming out of the black and white flashback, today happens to be the first anniversary of their relationship.

Both these love birds lie in an age group where the couple cant tolerate each other for more than 6 moths and finally end up in a split. But these two, as if made for each other, understand each other and completely fit the jigsaw. Just like any other couple, they do have their own little kiddish fights. I would COMPLETELY blame that on this stupid girl who still thinks like a school kid. And on that note, our kid brother doesn’t stay far behind either. All said and done, they are a great match for each other.

As I said, their Anniversary was celebrated today at 12:00 am. I and another couple friend of ours were there to witness the warm moment. PeeeeChik was treated to a nice plate of Chocolate Brownie with hot Chocolate sauce. Happy Anniversary to both of you. I hope that just like the Chocolate sauce, your relation becomes thicker and tastier with time. There are many more to come and lets hope we all are together to witness it and be a part of your celebration. After all, at least I cant be absent at any of my kid brother’s celebrations !!!

***He still sometimes thinks, life would have been quite different if he was still single. Whatever that means......

The little baby

An Italian married a German soul,
the no. of rings was not one but four,
in 18 months it was rock n roll,
as a baby was born with a devil's roar...

the baby she was,
smoking right from her birth,
the baby she she was,
drinking everything on this earth...

the baby she was,
who growled all along,
the baby she was,
she did nothing wrong...

the baby she was,
born frightingly lunatic,
the baby she was,
the word 'baby' is sarcastic...

inspite of all her wild,
she dresses like school-child...

Sometimes lime-green or yellow like a mango,
afterall the Gallardo is still the 'baby' Lambo...:)

- Rash

Drag King ?

The need for speed is the primary reason that’s pumps up the adrenaline of petrol-heads. The hunger for going faster, the thirst for higher octane and the want to reduce timings between point A and point B and then comparing them to others who attempt the same. Basically all this is can be summed up in one word called a ‘Race’. Just like any other game, a ‘Race’ comes in its own versions and flavors according to the tastes of the people organizing them or participating in them. The end result though is simple, be the first to cross the finish line. One of the flavors of Racing, is the simple yet popular, Drag. The track is a 400 meter straight, or a quarter of the American distance measurement standard, the Mile. Two cars or bikes blazing off the start at the blink of a green light, battling it out till the finish line.

A couple of months back, we decided to have our share of the fun. We decided to drag. On our turf, the blinking of the green light was replicated by the waving of a hand. The road isn’t exactly straight every time, nor flat. Its full of bumps and slight deviations. What a time to start the fun, just at the beginning of rains. So add to our track, a hint of potholes and loads of gravel and also, a wet surface. When I entered the scene a black hatch producing 100 odd horses with a performance filter charger was the car ruling the finish line. Unfortunately she was also in the same segment as mine so she was undoubtedly the opponent to beat. Or so I thought. When I entered the first race with a same car as mine, I was a little tensed. Like a kid who is about the enter school for the first time in his life, my heart was pumping out more frozen blood cells than adrenaline. I had played around earlier on traffic lights but this was the closest I could get to the real thing. Not knowing what my competition was just adding to my tension. As soon as the hand indicated go, my car squeal into a huge wheel spin on the wet and gravel shooting me 2^nd off the line. But the brilliant mid range kicked in as soon as I shifted to the 2^nd gear, edging me ahead of my opponent. The next couple of gears made sure I stay ahead till the end with at least two cars distance between mine and the other. This first race victory gave me an immense confidence boost. The next set of race finished with the same result. Suddenly I had become the unbeaten car of the day. It was quite easy that day. Slowly the inevitable happened and my confidence was turning into over confidence. But the next weekend dawned and as we were getting ready for a series of races before sunset, my confidence was dented when I heard that the black hatch was on its way to claim its crown back. Though it was giving me the creeps, I was also waiting for it. After all, a petrol head would never like to accept defeat, theoretically or practically. On all my single cylinder bikes, I could never win even if I had the technique, just because of those extra kilos armoring my skeleton. I always needed something that had enough torque to carry my weight across the finish line before the opponent. Here the car was giving me that opportunity. I didn’t want to give it away. I wanted that race. I wanted to win, again.

There was another sedan in the line up. A sedan that is highly under-estimated in our country and its styling turned down because it was too European. My thought process was in the same lane and I never really thought she can hold a torch to my car in the drags. I agreed to race that car, thinking it would be a very good practice round before the hatch would start gunning for me. We lined up at the start line. Both engines were revving, though the sound was coming from only one of the two. Even this sedan was running on a performance filter that was giving her a roar. This time around, my car was first off the line. But the other had an even better mid range than mine and she just slid past me in the next gear. I couldn’t believe my mid range being beaten like this. My tacho needle was climbing towards its peak power but for some reason I felt it was not reaching the track. I was losing out. Suddenly the top end came to my rescue with my final gears giving me a hairline victory over my foe. My brain was shivering; I could believe that this heavy Brit-look alike Japanese would give me such a tough time. There was nothing that I had done wrong. Though the result was in my favor, I didn’t like the package it came in. This was just a teaser of what was yet to come. The black hatch, who was the earlier drag king, was supposed to be even better. It was down to power-to-WEIGHT comparison again. Again, in spite of all the power and torque, every kilogram was going to matter on the negative side.

Finally she arrived. A black hatch. No frills, she was not like a performance machine trying to look like a family car or vice versa. She WAS a performance hatch. Every edge and curve on her was shouting it out. She shared a few chromosomes with some of the best race cars built to date. She was focused, she didn’t want to race with anyone else but me. She wanted to reclaim the crown that would make her owner the drag king again. I could smell a battle. I knew it was not going to be easy. The start line was alive again. Everyone wanted to see this race. There were no favorites. No one could judge who would take whom. Both the engines were revving hard this time. All I could see was my own lane. As the hands went down, both the cars smoked the tires and the clutches. Red lining the engines. Eight cylinders were burning octane faster than our thought process. More than a 150 horses were galloping with fury on the track. The tires dissipating liters and liters of water on the side with each passing rotation. Both the cars going neck to neck with each other. The peak power in the final gears was my ultimate weapon. And it performed better than my expectations. It did go faster in the final 100 meters. Giving my a few feet lead over the other car. The race was won. But it was not over. It was supposed to be best of three now. 2 more to go. With every passing race, my lead kept on increasing. Out of the 3 legit races that happened, I had won all three. Rather, my car had won all three. With smoked clutches too, she had managed to perform better than anyone else. Since then I have retained the crown of the drag king, though it really doesn’t mean much. I know better competition will come, with more power. In the small town of mine, we don’t have tuners that would make any difference. But the day I participate in bigger, national level drag championships, I will be battered down. But I will participate because I know I can perform, if not the best, at least the better.

Till date, in my segment, I won’t really call the black hatch as my most difficult competition. The endless thorn in my side will be undoubtedly the sedan, the brit-look alike Japanese sedan.

Life in the dark

As the darkness falls upon me
I can hear the Satan's chant
Just when I thought I was born free
'U r a slave' is his rant..

They say there is light @ the end of the tunnel
but all I can see is brightness getting scarsce
my life feels bottle-necked going down a funnel
all around me is reducing space..

I wish he had a heart that could understand emotions
but he knew of heart breaks so he took his precautions..

They say he believes in God like we do
mayb thats why he is after us
for God's creations he wants to undo..

Lets hope we can survive in the reverse pentacle
cause just like us, Lucifer afterall is a fallen angel.

Is today a new day ??

As everything goes wrong,
you decide to start all new,
without wasting time too long,
you wanna start by smelling the new morn's dew...

The sunrise is full of orange bright,
you wanna start new as possibly fast,
but suddenly you are striken by a weiry fright,
as behind you is the dark shadow of your past...

You still give in ur possible best
and start working without any rest,
till the afternoon brings the sun overhead,
reducing to nil the shadow of your past dread...

This is when you put in ur blood n sweat,
Not realising its already time for sunset...
Inspite of all sweat that flowed down ur brow,
all u see in front of u again,
is ur future appearing as a dark shadow...

The Graveyard

The heart is a graveyard of dying dreams,
where souls of broken relations rest in agony,
where the Undertaker is the God himself,
and the dark nights compose the graveyard symphony..

The blood still drips & the soil still wet,
smelling of memories when we first met..
I remember those eyes with first-love's fear,
which left mine wet till the last tear..

I could see my dreams drifting away,
as the fresh green grass was turning to hay..

She and he raised a relation tree,
on a land made fertile with my own blood,
to me no love n for him a loving spree,
to me a draught n for him its a flood..

My love n my dreams r a distant thought,
now all lie buried in the graveyard of my heart...

Shying thru the nights
I hide my face in guilt
as every night my love fights
because of my life's evil silt,
as she fights for life
she fights with death
I wish I could help
but ve to settle a debt,
I love her so
and she knows that well
but cause of my evil
we hardly could dwell,
I curse myself because of my sin
two days prior to the devil's grin,
He left his marks on my face to remind
that u ve to settle it all here
and cant leave none behind,
my love and my life r left to dwindle
as everyone laughs by at the Fallen Angel...

And even more biker poetry :)

Be it the early morning mist

or the bright and flashy light

of what should be a dark night

it doesnt dampen the ability of the wrist...

An open tarmac is treated as a red carpet

shredding a lil rubber everyday to keep her footwear sticky

going up and down through the gears

leaving behind all the damn fears...

Only concentrating on the fastest line

and a small meter with a needle and a red-line

swifting and sliding all along

leaving behind a cloud of smoke and dust

there is no end to our ever increasing lust...

Strapped in a body armour

zooming past everycommuter and poser

flashing lights at the oncoming lot

and changing lanes at the speed of thought...

Our machines working faster than the mind

still the perfet line isnt hard to find

the adrenaline rush on an all time high eliminates the need of any pacemakers

'cause at the end of it all, we are god damn street racers !!!

More biker poetry by Rash

Her eyes deep blue

sometimes subtle and sometimes fiery

Two devilish nostrils that inhale with fury

She has a black heart

that beats more than 200 times a second

with a demonish growl u wont fail to reckon

Sometimes she is blue and sometimes hell's red

or sometimes as black as the living dead

If the Soulreaper ever rode

this would be the one

a 666 license plate YZF-R1

(c) 2006 RASH :)

Biker Poetry by Rash

Deep down in four cylinders
A few hundred horses are born
Galloping down all the way on an oily chain
To leave a 200 section tyre completely worn

Controlled by 2 leashes actuted by the twist of the wrist
They burn enough rubber to create a mist

They are clad in Red and Wings of Black
Which helps them fly beyond a 300 kmph whack

Which makes it the best engineering ever made
This is my view of the Honda Fireblade !!!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They say fear is for the prey
and they believed in it
Then they put to the work the matter grey
until all the best was perfectly fit

They engineered it to be the best
the result was seen on every track test

They truly dared to do something no one had ever seen
When they dressed a Japanese Ninja in light green...

Personal Audio : Music Review : Fanaa

Movie Name : Fanaa
Music Director : Jatin - Lalit

Aamir it seems will be in complete limelight this year with two of his most awaited films releasing in 2006.
This is the first time we see Aamir working under the Yash Raj banner. The music for this film is composed by the Jatin-Lalit duo, which apparently looks like their last major release together. The review goes as follows :

Track 1 : Chand Sifarish
Artists : Shaan, Kailash Kher

This track has more of a fusion touch to it. Kailash Kher lends some sufi touch at the start of the track and Shaan is brilliant as usual. The track can make u relax and tap ur feet at the same time. One significant thing I found out was, the tune of the whistle resembles a lot to the "Yaraa Yarra Mein to..." track from Hum Tum..

Track 2 : Mere Haath Mein
Artists : Sonu Nigam, Sunidhi Chauhan

Its a typical Jatin-Lalit / Sonu Nigam combination track. The track has a few dialouges in between by Aamir Khan and Kajol themselves. Its a slow track, with a romantic feel potraying the dreams of couple in love...

Track 3 : Des Rangila
Artist : Mahalaxmi Iyer

A patriot song, the vocals try to describe differnt colours and cultures of India. The lyrics are descent but the music doesnt really make any impact on the listner. At the end of the track, Jatin Lalit have even put an instumental piece of our National Antem...

Track 4 : Dekho Na
Artist : Sonu Nigam, Sunidhi Chauhan

Another Romantic / Slow song. The music, the tunes, the instruments, the theme again sounds too familiar. All in all an average track.

Track 5 : Chanda Chamke
Artists : VARIOUS

AAH !!! AGAIN !!! Listen to this song, and listen to Yaaraa Yaaraa from Hum Tum !!

Track 6 : Destroyed in love
Artist : N/A (INSTRUMENTAL)

The 'Mere Haath Mein' tune mixed and matched with some loungy instumentation sounds good. Quite relaxing, dont know whether and how it was been used in the film, or it is for the Audio release only. A good track and can also be a good 'tru-tone' for next generation cell phones.

Track 7 : Fanaa for you
Artists : DJ Aqueel

It has now become a trend for all filmakers to release remix version of popular / title tracks with the actual Audio release itself. DJ Aqueel seems to have done a good job at playing with the 'Chand Sifarish' track on the turn-tables. The song has a good pace and would surely be a instant favorite among the party animals.

All in all I would like to listen to only 3 track out of the 7 on my playlist. The rest didnt appeal to me much. Overall, I would rate the whole album a 6/10.

The Dream...

You own a Swiss Mansion, next to the Autobahn, with a Garage, sporting a Germany Luxury Car, a Japanese Tuner Car, an Italian Supercar, an American Muscle along with a Japanese Superbike, a HONDA Cruiser, a German Street bike which is used for everyday riding and when u come home and park the bike in your garage, and shut the door with an electronically contorlled hydraulic mechanism, you head to the main door which is opened by a French Maid who greets you in and you smell the wonderful aroma of Chinese Starters, Punjabi curry dishes, Hyderabadi Biryani and Italian desserts being prepared in your lavish kitchen, smelling which you decide to get ready for dinner, but then u decide to get some body massage from a Thai Massager and then you return to your dining table to eat the wonderful food fare, watching the current favorite movie on a 100+ inches plasma display with a 7.1 Dolby DTS sound system and you enjoy your Italian dessert playing one of ur favorite games on your favorite console which is hooked onto a fast internet connection enabling you to play against your most sworn opponent and just as you are about to make the final blow on him, your Innocent Indian Wife switches off your gaming arcade and tells you its time to sleep and hence you obey and follow her and to your suprise find out that your bedroom has been romantically prepared for a great night ahead :) at the end of which you will sleep as peacefully as a new born and then....
you will have a dream, even better than this one !!!

Poetry : Dahling

With the dull mirage greeting me
I care for none but my dreaming tree

I search for you in a fragile world
But why should I again care
No, I'm not mean but I do dare
To tell the truth and to swear

Go to sleep
just to keep
some points so blank
these thoughts too deep

Try n hide so tell those lies
Act like spies trying to analyse

Closed the gates for all my mates
Found me to stake so those smiles to fake ?

You left me bleeding, dahling...
Please take me in

Mom says dont play with your food
its a sin, its a sin

Now why the wait, just open the crate
Dont lay the bait please gobble me straight

Those beans I did not spill
so I cannot fulfill
In me is no power, no will
as I lay on the platter for you to Kill.

-----

Varad "Speedy" More
RSA Member

Poetry : Rape

Darkness surrounds me, as I beg for the light
His weight on top of me makes it so hard to fight
Please don't hurt me I hear myself cry
Be a good little girl is his only reply
I gasp for air as his fingers wrap around my throat
Shivering from the cold as I was made to lay on my coat
Hot tears fall from emerald eyes
Permanent scars warped into pretense lies
Kicking and screaming I plead for him not to touch
A swollen black eye and he promises now he won't rush
Slow and painful like dying from this horrid shame
Led to believe I've only myself to blame
He fucks me hard, makes me feel like I'm no good
My father always told me a whore never would
This is my life and all I could ever amount to
Virginity lost and what's left of my pride will never do
Cold rain falls from a sapphire sky
Broken and abused, left alone to suffer and die

----

Katie
----------------------------------------------------------------

I came across this poem on the net while chatting with a friend. The poem describes the poet's pain in each and every word. Unfortunately, the poet wrote these lines from her true experience.

Poetry : The Little Guy

When everything goes wrong
I turn to this little guy,
Who shares with me everything…

And when there is no one to turn to,
This little guy never betrays my loneliness.

Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down,
Whatever happens to me, whenever,
This little guy smiles and holds on,
And tells me to do the same….

He gives me strengths,
He reminds me of my strengths

He lets me cry, and cries with me,
He never fights, never ignores…
He keeps his promise of being with me always.

When I look at him I see in his eyes,
The world full of smiles,
In which I see my mom and dad…

I see them there, with smiles on their faces,
And that reminds me what I was born for..

And then I ask this little guy,
Why I did what I should not have done ?

He gives me yet another chance,
And also shows trust.

And gives me the strength
And reminds me of my strengths

When I look into his eyes,
Sometimes I see hatred,
For what I have done
And I see him smilingly ask
If it was necessary…

When I have no answer,
He never scolds

But what he does is,
He consistently reminds me of my strengths
I am so fortunate I found him in there,
I wonder where I would have wandered without him..

When I’m down, or if I’m sad,
I go to him and say nothing

For he knows what I have been through
I need not even explain…

He keeps telling me that all is not lost,
He keeps reminding me of my strengths

Sometimes when I cry
And when he cries with me,
I feel sad I made him cry…
But he never complains
All he does is,
He consistently reminds me of my strengths

All I live for, all I die for, is
This little guy’s smile, when I turn to him
Whatever he does, or whatever I do,
I love this little guy….

…in the mirror…


----

Maitreya 'Mats' Mahajan
Level II Stuntaz,
Rubber Smokin' Angels

Poetry : Word of Mouth

My soul seeks no help,
From the love of god above,
He says he shall return,
We still burn being his sons

My love for Satan is alive,
And shall die within no time,
They say he will reprise,
And I know he will breach mankind,

So I take to the love of myself
The one I’ve know too far
I know me will return
Once they both have left our hearts

We live in this age of falsehood,
Where people follow the bless of good
They cultivate a feel of pain inside,
Manifest it in their own right

Some know my life is hell,
They believe in what I tell,
For inside they are one like me,
Who just believe in what they see,

These words I write on with pain,
Revenge to god and Satan’s holy fame
They scared our lives with believes
We still ride in their age of infinity...

---
Ashwin
RSA Member

Of mirages and illusions...

You bet you have eyes strong enuf to beat illusions ? Check these illusions and think again....

http://www.winterrowd.com/illusions/

The Annoying Thing

And you thought this was the most annoying thing lately...check this out :

http://home.comcast.net/~wolfand/