adios

I regret to inform you, I have moved to another planet.
I now blog at greenwanderer.blogspot.com , the dis armed thakur has been flushed.

The earth is my bed,
the sky is my ceiling,
the whole world is my native place
(quick gun murugan)

please wash your hands
ok ta ta byebye

the delicacy called universe

The past days have been spiritually uplifting. In fact I think my soul is ready for another attempt for a satyagraha (on the body of course).Do not be alarmed, I'm not planning on committing any unnatural acts (;-)) but I'm only pondering the meaning (and the status) of my existence in this body and in this universe which the body likes calling home. This is usually my state of mind after a trip to Ranchi, my divine retreat. Where i usually go to use the grand cosmic adapter placed there (by my favorite spiritual hacker) to recharge my self. I would like to point of you that such an establishment is illegal in the eyes of Maya ( the grand daddy, or mommy, of all the bloody autocrats in the universe) , However since Maya herself is pretty busy , we have been creeping up on the karmic highway, over speeding just a wee little bit.
for all those who cant understand what I say or mean.... ha ha ho ho he he. Just let the universe be.
-written at 120kmph ,
on the grand road of delusion
I know where im going
but I don't know where Ive been

shelf my self

Today the disarmed thakur wonders as he gets rid of his karma from the last meal. (i still dont know how he washes up afterwards, maybe we should ask ramesh sippy ji) .... anywys he wonders(just like we do) that what is our real self .If we follow what the scriptures tell us, (decrypted by the spiritual hackers of our times ) they tell us that the self is pretty much free from any taint that our body or ego brings about. In fact the body and the ego is like a piece of badly digested chicken stuck in the gullet of our soul (probably causing gas ,and leading to some discomfort to our celestial neighbours ,but lets not go there now) .
If you agree with this doctrine(of the soul being the real self and the body being the nasty stinky sock that he/she is forced to wear for the gym class ) then its all well and fine. But if you dont (unlike me). Then wonder this, o wise one.... we are continuously shaped by the people around us. Knowingly or unknowingly , we are shaped by every letter we read,every word we hear and every sight we percieve. If that is so , arent we just compendium editions of our predecessors? the latest version of Playstation in the market.?built with the same 'stuff 'that was in everyone before us? just edited with the latest software? reflect upon thy self o wisey misey and let me know how much of you is a shelf of the past.

disconnect

from the moment you are born you start disconnecting yourself. you disconnect from the umbilical cord, you disconnect from your mothers housing capabilities, you disconnect from the sounds of your heart beats. this disonnection continues as you live through your life. you disconnect from your parents and your siblings, you disconnect from your life. and at some certain point of time you become connected to the planet onlythrough your senses. the 5 bonds which refuse to severe themselves. delving deep into you self until you are completely enslaved, and we are certainly enslaved arent we? by the music we hear, by exotic scents we smell, by the deliciousness of food we eat. and then as we walk on, we find these senses weakening. food is no longer as sweet, scents are no more as sharp, music is no more as soothing. and we drift away once more. into an oblivion unknown to science. where dreams divide and disappear. into that everlasting mist of silence. i wonder is it worth it at all? all this delving and dreaming and dying? are our senses the final pursuit for our presence on the planet? are we only a piece of accessory that mommy earth wants to sport before it becomes unfashionable? are we the lost children of bad fashion technology. moulded by ther universe to fit into a pair of pants? or are we the pair of pants? i dont know.

i got lyrics if u lend me a note

I started deep into the mud
Growing bushes around my soul
Filling the holes around me

And Covering them up

Tomorrow flashes by
Carrying the wind across his brow
He came armed with a Ferrari
I told him to let it go

Today a dream came by to see me
I told her I wasn’t home
But following behind my footsteps
She found me long ago

Her legs are made of silver
Her feet are made of gold
But deep beneath I wonder
Where shall we go

Shall we drown away
in whiteness
or wither away in the
dark
or look ahead towards yesterdayand follow the curling path.

dis-armed thakur from sippyland

con me
can me
for i am
cool

cool am i,
by my fake skin,
by my stolen dreams,
by my 'inspired'thoughts

cool am i

reality

dis-armed thakur from sippyland
you wake up in the morning and start dressing up for the day. the toothbrush enters your conciousness ,followed by the pot and then the shower( in varying order, depending on levels of personal hygine). In the short gaps between u ponder over the state of the world through the eyes of the reporters? never taking a moment to wonder if its all real. The sceptic in you is silenced by the loud hum of the tv, the refrigerator, the computer u just bought (for a pretty good deal, of course) . And slowly , in the confines of all the cement that you call your own.... you melt away. slowly at first as your immunity fights back, but then with ever increasing speed , you melt into the stream then the river and before you know it you are in the ocean , a tiny spec of salt bound into the everlasting cycle with hydrogen bonds penetrating into your technocratic self. and boy those bonds hurt. they hurt everytime you look at a report which tells yopu what to do, they hurt everytime you walk into a store inspired by the ad you just saw , to buy you brand of carbonated drinks. I hurts here and there . but most of all it hurts where the wings used to be. the ones they sawed away. aaah!
Boy, are we fucked or what?
Our wings are clipped , but it doesnt even matter because we are too busy to ever fly.
Freedom? ha ha ho ho he he
Not in a million years.

her

She climbs on board
But has no place to be
She tries to find the way
But she is lost inside

Where shall the wind take her
Will it blow this way?
Im waiting for her to come back
Now and forever

Compromises are all that’s left
For dreams are ashes
And realities are all that’s left

Awaken dear......

And I find myself next to her
Journeying into the unknown
No other place to be
But right there
Beside her
here lies my home

call centre cab

take em away
Into that land of hopeless dreams
Filling them with useless lies
Fueling the ambitions
beauty into the grave
dreams into realities

the freedom in their hearts
slowly melts into chains
for their soul
their dreams
their conciousness.

The song which burned in their hearts
The music of the land
Slowly fades away
Leaving behind nothing
But a residue which tomorrow
shall swallow away

where lies the roar?
where do flowers bloom?
The trees turn green
But the green is not real
Its blue and yellow and white

And tomorrow we shall realize