Happiness and Morality

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What is Happiness?

A chance?
or 
A choice?



If happiness is really a choice,
why can't we choose 
it over morality?

If happiness is really a chance,
why should we 
be morally right?








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Pricking the Porcupine

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I was comfortably numb & dumb, But this atrocious crust made me succumb! How pure I was in that womb? Will my flesh decay in my tomb? The skin embossed with the spines in line, I knew , I am the porcupine! Of bleeding others , involuntarily, I feel heavy with cardiomegaly! Touching me , Why do you regret? Don't you know , its my reflex? How would you , poor mortal! Only HE knows the way I feel! The sun & the moon takes rest, but my eyes are spared from its zest! Dwelling under this blanket of gloom, now , it has become my doom! I am shutting down my heart! There's none around me unhurt! I don't wish to start to again! I would better end my lively pain! this post is to all the victims of the porcupine[thats me!];I have hurt almost everyone around me, please forgive me!! There's a hell of things pricking inside the porcupine.Trust me!! GOD SAVE ALL!!
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In our Own selves....

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Do you know where I am? Do you know where you are? Do you know where we are? The grass isn’t green. The snow isn’t white. The light isn’t bright. The taste isn’t sweet. The atmosphere is strange. The air is misty. The vision is out of range. Your cheeks are thirsty. The sky looks pitch black. The birds don’t seem to fly. There is something the winds lack. Even the hard rocks cry. Is this place, the Mars? No it isn’t. This is something familiar. I had been here before. Losing the skin you possessed. Gaining superficial colors you never need. Exploring the mind you never had. Dreaming about the rainbow you never will have. Do you know where I am? Do you know where you are? Do you know where we are? I am buried alive… You are buried alive… We are buried alive… In our own selves...
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Inebriated

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Hanging by the watch's minute hand, we were exploring our own land; Too slowly crawled the clock, Our brains were fixed in a block; The state of steadiness measured in terms of pegs, we flew around with wings pinned to our legs; Out came the words from the inside, that crenelated the heart in vitro quite wide; From dumb to a chatter box, cowardice to courage, this OH-fluid made our neurones outrage; Our souls confessed our sins kneeling down, Yet our exterior dressed in the mask of a clown; We see an aureole around every face, bcoz the Inner God emerges out from the surface; We let ourselves ruled by the uninhibited subconscious, and slaughter our cruel inhibited conscious;
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Fly with me...

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Will you follow my tail? Fly with me Take my wings free. I will take you somewhere, where there is nothing. No air to inhale, No water to quench, No body to be caged in, Nobody to envy, Nobody to hate, Everybody to love. But no way back, Yet you can traverse through the other route. Will you come? You will regret having spilt your blood here. Lets make it a memorable voyage! Falling down the Everest, Crawling through green meadows, Floating above misty clouds, Walking on transparent waters, Sleeping with minds closed, Lets derive joy from oddness. You know, the time, you were born, you didn't know, you were born. Likewise, you wouldn't know this too. Its a pleasure;Its an orgasm! Its a freedom from the bondage! How would immortals taste it? How would mortals know it? Poor world! Pathetic souls! Everything gain significance only after its loss. Its not the same with life, though the same with DEATH. Why do you fear to relish an elixir? Come, Lets invade the next Hell! P.S. I a...
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Alone...

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“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” he screamed and banged the door shut with a rage that’s killing him cell by cell, tissue by tissue, blood to bones, blood to brain. He is already half dead. A dying dead. Pissed off with things going around him and his life, he dived into his bed desperately trying to reconnoiter his mind, trying to discover something which he had forgotten for some months now, the sleep! He began his usual dose of talking with the God. Someone who happen to peep into his room accidentally would certainly call a mental health physician for help. But, in real, he is not the one who needs the care. Maybe the world, which is smothering his nostrils, choking his lungs, restraining his heart, obstructing his brain that belonged to the next generation, need special mental care. He was simple. The world made him complicated and then cursed his complicacy. “That’s how this planet functions…isn’t it?” he asked. There was no reply. “Why shouldn’t I come with y...
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Insanity Awarded!!

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Yesterday night, when I browsed through the comments as usual on my Nokia 3230, I was not a bit astonished.In fact I was amazed a lot. Bcoz I was handed the THINKING BLOGGER AWARD by Neo which in turn was awarded by Rajeev .Both of whom I admire a lot for their capabilities to pen down phenomenal poems(Neo) and crispy yet stunning short stories(Rajeev). Now getting back to the day(actually it was a night) when I gave birth to this blog , I remember my Mom scolding me to get off the computer and to spend some time on the bed(Now its the reverse, I spend the whole day on my bed in this gloomy icy climate!!).I let my Mom's words traverse through the auditory canal of one and out through the other. And the result is this DOODLES OF THE INSANE . Its just 3 months old( Neonatal ) and I believe this comes pretty premature for an amateur(ppl is my ego inflated?? Dont mind atleast for today!!lol).I see those days with my comments zero , posts unread , blog unnoticed ,the doodler unkn...
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