90’s Pictorial Film Rewind: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge

Holy shit. I haven’t laughed this much in a long time.
Go, follow ImaanSheikh. Come for the name, stay for the writing.


I know, I know. I am attempting to ruin your favourite film; don’t kill me. I like it too. It’s every desi’s favourite film. And, well, why shouldn’t it be? It’s over three fucking hours long, and god knows how we love to make up for the short things in our lives with long ass movies.

I have decided to rewind Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

DDLJ opens with a sad shot of fobby store owner London dad Baldev (Amrish Puri) feeding birds while reminiscing about India after having reached the stars in Vilayat.

Oh, and he’s totally trippin’ balls.

While uncle is busy seeing shapes in the sky, let me introduce you to his family.

Meet annoying smartass 12-year-old Chutki, who ideally should have been killed by Paresh Rawal in King Uncle, and max Punjabi mummy jee, Lajjo.

Of course, this family is uninteresting as shit without Simran, the teenage…

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Touch The Horizon

“Mama? Are you awake?”

She stirred, and turned feebly towards him. There wasn’t much strength left in her, and she used whatever she had carefully and sparingly. Time, the greatest enemy of youth, had robbed her of everything but the sanity of her mind. Thank God she had her boy, though. Even though there was an army of nurses and doctors that her vast wealth had given her, she couldn’t bear it if her little boy wasn’t around.

It was almost time. She could feel it in her bones, see it in his eyes. Here today, gone tomorrow. She was treating every second as if it were her last, and she was determined to be holding her baby’s hand when the time finally came.

“You have it, yes?”, she wheezed.

“Hush, mama. Yes, I have it.”

He held up the scrap of paper, torn from her notebook all those years ago. It was her one regret, not being able to travel. As a little girl, she had stared out of her window and wondered what the world beyond her town was like. She used to yearn to run until she could touch the horizon, and then see what happened. Would the world end, and would she fall into a bottomless abyss? Would she be carried up into the starry heavens?

When she had the desire, she didn’t have the means. When she had the means, she wanted more means.

They say that every person with wealth wants only one thing – more.

So she had devoted her life to amassing wealth, never thinking that she wouldn’t make it to her retirement age. Never understanding that nothing in life is certain, even for the uber-wealthy. Never anticipating that the slow rot of her cells would rob her of all the time that she had set aside to see the world.

But never mind. If she couldn’t see the world in life, she would see it in death. Her boy would make sure of that.

That’s what was on the scrap of paper. A travel route that would take him around the world, with her ashes. He would take her everywhere she couldn’t go, show her the world. Ibiza, Vietnam, Belize, Bali. She would see it all with the one she loved the most.

She would touch the horizon with his hands.

“You do have it, right?”

He didn’t answer this time, just held the scrap up in front of his face. He had been carrying it everywhere for years now.

Her smile was weak. Then it faltered, and disappeared altogether.

The paper parted down the center, torn in two by hands that she had been holding just a moment ago. And as the halves parted, she was staring into the hardest, coldest eyes she had ever seen.

She didn’t have the strength to protest, but her eyes asked a thousand questions.

He didn’t answer with words, but simply turned towards the door of her hospital room. It opened slowly, and a person walked in.

And the bottom fell out of her world.

It all came rushing back. The secretary job that she had landed. The little whispers in his ear, the malicious little lies that she had told about people. The eventual seduction, and the affair. Finally, the papers that she had slipped into his folder one day, hidden amongst invoices and payment slips. He trusted her so blindly that he hadn’t even looked at what he was signing.

She took his empire and tore it apart, terminating jobs and wrecking lives with a ruthlessness never before seen. And considering she was on Wall Street, that’s saying something.

From the burning embers of his empire had risen the phoenix that had become her world.

Her son’s voice brought her back to reality with a jolt.

“I’m going to spend every last penny that you’ve willed me righting the wrongs that you’ve caused. I will not rest as long as there is a breath in my body and a cent in my pocket. And I may not know the future, but I can tell you one thing. Your disgusting remains will not see a single place, other than this room and the nearest morgue.”

Tears streaming down her face, she choked out a few words.

“My….dying wish…”

He stood up, eyes cold as ice. He extended his arm, and scattered the pieces of the notebook paper over her hospital bed. He then leaned over and brought his mouth to her ear.

“As far as I’m concerned, MOTHER, you died a LONG time ago.”


InkBlood Coagulation 2014



InkBlood ~ Writing from the vein, presents Coagulation 2014

InkBlood Coagulation 2014 is a month long celebration of Poetry and Art, featuring a one of a kind Poetry Contest!

For the next thirty (30) days we will be indulging in Klecksography and Poetry together, learning to appreciate the beautiful relationship shared between these two exquisite forms of art.

Must see!

How to make a Klecksograph ~ http://tinyurl.com/ksb3ok2

Submitting your poem ~ http://tinyurl.com/n3sjc3k

The point of this event is to write Poems inspired by the Klecksographs submitted by other artists, and to submit your own Klecksographs, which will serve as inspiration for other poets!

At the end of thirty days we will declare three (3) winners –

Two winners will each win a specially designed, beautiful Collector’s Edition in-house published book of all the Klecksographs and Poems submitted to
InkBlood Coagulation 2014 – [16th January to 16th February 2014]


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Amore Mortis

We lay side by side,

Two souls vivisected by love,

Her beating heart bled onto the jealous grass,

Mine cried tears for the death of our love.


I drummed my fingers in an imitation of a symphony,

In the staccato of our lovemaking,

She pulled up the sods as though they were her enemy,

And grasped them as though they were my dead hands.


She scratched my eyeballs till they burst,

And ran down my cheeks like a macabre tear,

Water ran forth from my hollow eyes,

And created a sea in which to drown her sorrow.


I traced a constellation in the crook of her elbow,

Running from scar to scar like a frightened pup,

She used her teeth to grind my ribcage to dust,

The ash from a pyre of whirling lust.


She rolled over onto me and we existed,

Mouth to mouth, toes entwined,

We died as one, a story for the ages,

And over our bodies grew the tree of life.


She cradles my head,

Loving, tender,

My tears fall upon her breast,

My body shakes against her.




“Get the fuck out of my house”,

“Don’t ever come back”,

Out of sight, out of mind,

Out of heart, out of life?




She lay with me in the grass,

Her head upon my shoulder,

I need nothing else,

I stroke her hair and smile.




She can’t do this anymore,

I’m selfish and hurtful and negligent,

She needs me to be more,

More than I can give.




I kiss her neck, and hear her moan,

Her nails leave lines on my back,

I run my hand through her hair and jerk her head back,

We are one.




She is my kaleidoscope,

Every turn,

She’s new and old and dusty and shining,

Her jewel-crusted skin blinds me.



I love her.


I love her.



I love her.

#CLT – Vol. 2

This is the first #CLT of the new year, and it needs to be special. So here we go, 2014.

1. Air – MIDIval PunditZ

This is an old one, but one of my all-time favourites. The pioneers of the Indian fusion scene, Tapan Raj and Gaurav Raina have been banging it out for more than a decade.


2. Suck – Yuck

Other than their imaginatively titled tracks, Yuck have an easygoing yet distinctive style that hits you. Hard. Suck comes off their debut album titled, obviously, Yuck.


3. Little Drummer Boy – Pentatonix

I know it’s a little late to be posting Christmas carols, but this one is too awesome not to share. Pentatonix are a five-piece acapella band, and are one of my favourite cover artists on the YouTube. Their rendition of this Christmas classic will give you goosebumps. Guaranteed.


4. My Wish – Rascal Flatts

I’m not too much of a country music person, but this song was first played at a coming of age of sorts, for me. And it’s been special ever since. So, at the beginning of 2014, I’d like to wish all of you the very best, Rascal Flatts style.


5. Only Moment We Were Alone – Explosions In The Sky

EITS are a five-piece post rock band from Texas. Only Moment, ever since I first heard, has been my favourite track to play at that point in the party where the festivities are dying down and everyone’s just in the mood to sit around and be. Just be. Add a dimly lit room to that, and the world is perfect.


And that’s it for this edition of #CLT. Happy new year, everyone, and keep listening!

#CLT5 – Vol.1

This is a concept that I got from Shalaka Pai’s column over at Nh7.in. Every list has five tracks that she has put together for that day. Welcome to mine!

1. Bangla Bass Feat. Mou Sultana Brooklyn Shanti & Nucleya – Nucleya’s VIP Dub Remix

The brain-thumping bassline in this one, along with its fresh feel, puts it right at the top of the list for today. Even though I discovered it a while ago, it’s a track I keep going back to just to nod along in the middle of a slow day at work.

2. Nobody – Skindred

I only discovered reggae metal today, thanks (once again) to NH7. The Welsh unit Skindred are one of the pioneers of the genre, and for a headbanger like me, Nobody is the perfect track.

3. First Day Of My Life – Bright Eyes

This generation’s Dylan, Conor Oberst, brings you one of the most beautiful love songs I’ve ever heard. Along with it is an incredibly poignant music video. Watch and listen to this one.

4. Madari – Vishal Dadlani, Sonu Kakkar

A friend at work introduced me to this track, and there was no looking back. Vishal, known for his work with Pentagram and as one half of Vishal-Shekhar, displays some incredible vocal dexterity on this track.

5. Bizarre – Perera Elsewhere

I really owe NH7 a lot today. I began listening to Jahcoozi thanks to them, and discovered Perera Elsewhere as a result. Her voice has a strange way of getting under your skin, and the video is pretty interesting as well.

This concludes Vol.1 of #CLT5. Come back for more!

Little Whore

I’m a slut.

There, I said it. I’m a slut of the highest order, and of the worst kind.

I let people walk all over me, and am too afraid to stand up for myself. There are so many instances of punching, kicking, screaming abuse that I’ve gone through, only to let everything go the very next day. People wrong me, and there’s nothing that I do about it.

Sometimes I wonder when and how I became this spineless. Maybe it’s the expectation I have of myself, of being a “nice” person. I need to be the bigger man, I guess. Maybe I’m too much of a pussy to take a stand. 

But this only happens when it comes to me. I’m only too happy to stand up and dig deep for someone else.

Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t meant to evoke any sympathy, or to make me seem like a martyr. It’s just an all-out confession, so that I can put my thoughts down. So that I can look at this eventually and go, “What in the world is wrong with me?”

This isn’t a post for you. It’s for me.

I couldn’t care less what you think right now, honestly.


Where does it stop, though? Where do I draw the line and say “enough is enough”?

And even harder, how?

How do I take the jellyfish that I’ve let myself become and make it something that people can respect?

That I can respect when I look in the mirror?



In the final moments before sleep takes you, you’re the most real version of yourself.

Your fears, your love, your hatred, your anger, your torrential tears.

Just before you fall asleep, you’re the most you you will ever be.

Do you frighten yourself?

Sleep. Now