To stop.

Tersely designed
Concepts
Methods
Structured dreams
Still lucid
Intelligible
Realms of imagination
Extending beyond
My fingers
Beyond my reach
Teach me
How to tame
My mind
Blind fuckin mind
From wandering off
How do I convince
To calm it down
To stop
And take a deep breath
While it panics
Drowning in
Heavy breathing
Seeing no reason
To stop
Hop hop
Hopping all over
Souvenirs
I hid in the
Cupboard
Of my reckless
Feral
And free mind
It wouldn't
Care to even
Scare you away
I'm trying
But it giggles
When I tell it to
Shut the fuck up
My pen doesn't stop
It seems more determined
Than me
Loosing out ink
Faster than time
Could comprehend
What it tries to say
My pen knows
A lot more
About what I have to
Say
Playing on this sheet
Exploring corners
Of cheeks
Beautifully using them
As matter for poetry
Set it free already
Please let me go
But my pen
Just laughs along with my mind
What do I fuckin do
With this limited
Memory
Playing in my head
On loop
Again and again
About how I threw
The chance to
Caress your skin
And here it
Begins
Again.

A nightmare from the woods

Today I dreamt
Of people inside
My mind
When I was small

Surrounded by
Their energies
Running away
A little more

Self induced fear
In the self induced dream
I was only walking fast
There never was a scream

With not much
Difference
Between the time
And place

They were of different
Eyes
They were of different
Face

But I knew them well
And I knew them right
It was my own dream
From the lucid night

Walking through
The corridors
Walking through
Their sight

The way they looked
Cold and blank
Almost ready
To fight
Me
Again and again and again.

Roaring daisies

Transparent membranes
Like that of bubbles
Making layers
For me to see
My reflections in
So many me

Why am I
The one I hated
Why am I the one I swore on
Why am I learning patterns
From people who have moved on

We are but the actors
Of how we would have been
No more battles to lose now
None left to win

Why is it now
That I can feel
Your breeze
Across my mind?

What is it now
In your innocence
That I am about
To find?

Where is
The kindness
And the love
And passion in the wine?

Riddles

It feels like
There is
An even bigger
Being
Inside me
Bigger than
Anything
You would have ever seen
Made of
Light and darkness
Yes and no
Things you do
And things you don't
So much bigger
Than this tiny
Body
So much bigger
Than the hole
Of the pupil
You see your world
Through

Its been as big
Since you were born
And it will be
When you do
Not see yourself
Inside the body
You thought
You grew into
Also made of
Dreams,
This being comes
Out of the blue
To surprise you
When
You feel
Its alive
Just inside you

Somewhere
In the bones
Somewhere
Right outside
The goosebumps
It gives you

I look
In the mirror
You can not see
You can not touch
You can not feel
It in the reflection
But only
Inside you
Is that being
That is writing this
Down
For you

And as far as
You can ever go
Searching
I will always be found
In you
Always be found in you

Unfinished

Your fingers
Are so thin
As sharp as
My heart has ever been
Tracing treasures
On your skin
While your eyes speak
Of the darkness within
The funny kind of dark
Lit with a bit of spark
Of your smiles
And the seeds of your
Soul
That you thought
Will not grow into
What you have become

Sit with me now
Keep talking
Your voice and the vibe
Heal me so
From all I have been
To myself within
Breathe on my skin
A little more
After we have kissed
And the after taste
Of the coffee your soul
Drank with mine
And the ciggeratte's smoke
Going up with each other's
Ideas
That we might never discuss
Again
Begin another
Conversation
In this moment
To the next
A word attaching
Past to the rest
Of what is happening
And what will happen
Like a vibe
So lucid and real
That it exists in
Different times and places
As what it is
Throughout
It only evolves
But much like branches
Of the trees
You never know
Where it turns
And takes rest.

Alive

It wasn't easy to be doing nothing when she was there. He kept trying to refine his image. He wanted her. She wanted him more than him. He knew what was going on. He knew he didn't have to do all that. She kept touching her hair as if to retain the decor of the frame of his eye. She didn't want him to feel she wasn't pretty. She kept doing things to get his attention. The gloss on her lips and the shine on her nails were suppose to dazzle him and so they did, much like her eyes but never as much. They had barely spoken. The best kind of conversations are never aloud. A smile for a smirk and a blush for a touch. They both were enjoying this. More so, they had never spoken to each other before. Silence became expressive after a while, almost tangible, like colors to an artist. Liquid, lucid and alive.

Kasol, the afterthought.

With 25 thousand tourists a year, Kasol isn't a secluded part of the hills anymore. It is growing and so are the locals out there. They never imagined that people would come rushing in for the river that flows so fiercely that it becomes an echo in the minds that land up there. Soft minds, or to be softened minds.

We don't know if its famous for its brilliant charas,the beauty, or the crowd which definitely looks more creative than a club on Saturday night at haus khaz. We don't know if it is the plant (widely available everywhere anyway) or the freedom to smoke it that brings the modern Indian hippie culture together.

From debates that have neither legalized it nor told us the reasons for why is it still illegal, parvati valley offers a getaway for all since the spliffs have been lit from either side of the debates.

The beauty of the place, the plants,trees hills and even the evening breeze, the nutella crepes, the bridge that has been swinging between chalaal and Kasol and the thrill of walking on it (at least for the first time), the religious brand ambassadors lighting up chillums, the group of friends who have lied to their parents saying they are in manali and are found holding coconut shells as their crushing bowls in an environment which has almost a nil chance of violence when compared to our country's capital are smiling after smoking the joint they just rolled pushes me to question if we are fighting the right war at all.

The perspective on marijuana is changing with the western culture realising what they did was wrong. Take off the blindfolds of fear of the unknown. Know and not believe. Research and not agree to voices that apparently lead us to a brighter tomorrow. Marijuana isn't a big deal, the fear of it is.