Soul Mate

a truth once was written by the hand of fate,
for every person living has but one soul mate.
a song once was sung by the voice of dream,
that all rivers flowing have but a single stream.

and every flower growing,

and every drop of rain,
every star that burns the night,

a single sun remains.
and every weeping minute,

every hour that grows,
every day that passes by

a single date shows.

even though you haven't met

and maybe never will,

a single heart is beating on

and is beating still.

words by cocaine jesus

Mirza Bagh

YATRIK
presents

MIRZA BAGH
A play in Hindustani and English

Directed and designed by Sabina Mehta Jaitly

Cast: Jasbir Malik, Ranjit Mathur, Prakash Bhatia, Ramesh Thakur, Tarannum Ahmed, Sunil Gupta, Danish Husain, Mahua Sen, Surabhi Goswami and Manasi Pareek.

on

March 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, 2006 at 7.00 p.m

at

The Shri Ram Centre
Safdar Hashmi Marg
New Delhi

Tickets: Rs. 300, 200, 100, 50.
at
The Music Shop, Khan Market and Teksons, South Ext-1 from Feb. 20
Also at The Shri Ram Centre on performance days from 4.00 p.m onwards

For performance related enquiries, call 9810154393

Peace & Its Discontents*

Here! Right here!
Let’s draw a line
and reach an understanding
albeit hesitant
that we will not
step across it
but then who is to decide
what is righteous?
The loose ends, the cul-de-sacs
in the labyrinth in our heads
often spill on to the other side;
barbed spaces
where our tolerance resides.
And then the discontent,
fermenting underneath with gnomic intent,
like Azaan at the crack of dawn
will pierce through this uneasy peace,
shattering it
long after stillness has settled
in our clattering teeth.

© Dan Husain
February 11, 2006

* The title is not original. It is the title of one of the books that Edward Said wrote on the Israeli-Palestinian Peace accord.

(from the pages of Utility Fish Erotica) Raindrops

raindrops.

tiny pinpricks on slate grey concrete.

raindrops.

lepoard skin spots that fall soft and dark onto pale grey slabs.

raindrops.

that cover the pavement like desire, like shadow.

shadows.

that flicker and fade and lick the walls with tongues of shade that dance like shifting veils.

above her the ceiling fan rotates a lofty breeze that drifts down humble and soft and kisses her skin with a promise of chill air.

shadows.

that rise and fall, rise and fall like the claws of ancient gods or the boughs of banished trees or the fingers of specteral lovers.

fingers.

that haunt her mind in vague whispers.

the sultry heat confines her movements to languid stretches and holds her lust in supine relief.

naked and salacious she curls her lightly sweat covered frame around her hand and squeezes it between her amorous thighs like a victim of a constrictor.

the fan throbs a tuneless rythm, a pulsing ache that beats a singular motif of nebbish tepidity.

hypnotic.

it calls to her.

in sounds of sultry saxaphone blues.

it calls to her.

and with thighs spreading like lotus blosom she receives the thief of her fingers that steal in snake like stages down her belly and through the grove of her lurid growth.

raindrops grow.

and over the mound of her pensive vulva that tingles with urgent expectancy her hand slides into dark contours and her thumb trails a pink fold.

shadows rise.

and she peels the fruit of her self with a delicate prising and with urgent probes releases the winged demons to burn her with carnal avividty that ravish her being.

the blade throbs. the raindrops fall.

a sweet scent of orchids from bruised lips.




words by cocaine jesus

Hentai

Like I said, what's the point doing manga if you're not doing any hentai ;)
Made entirely in Photoshop. I've got the coloured verson put up on my own blog

I hate the truth, it's true.

Good God, I hate the truth, it’s true.
And beauty’s over-rated too
And lies and ugliness are grim
beyond belief.

The world has surely had enough
of them, and Christ this life is tough
without their dose of added sin.
So why add more?

Why take a judge’s wig and wear
it over string and sawdust hair?
Why take a moon or battered sun
and make it true

or beautiful? Why make them say
that ugliness alone conveys
the seed of absence from the truth
you marvel at?

When sitting in Buchanan Street
on cold Italian marble seats
Look! truth in each fourth face I see
And beauty too.

And when sitting there: papers fly,
rubbish gathers, the seagulls cry
that ugliness is pointlessness,
that lies are numb.

I can live without the lot of them:
each knotless knot and flawless gem.
Instead give me the skewed, the broken
unforeseen.




.

Ants Have Wings

why are ants given wings
a day before they die?
did they always wanna fly?

why do i,
sitting in the dark
think of a microlite?
to play with the birds
or to never come back?

let a cigarette unlock some doors,
as i unwind
up on the terrace, arms spread out
watching the last few coffins go by

i guess i know why
the ants wanna fly

(the MIG21s, also known as the flying coffins, are finally being decommissioned. some pilots of the bangalore air base are enjoying a last few flights in the deadly beauties these days . . . knowing fully well they may die any moment in a crash . . . celebrating the spirit of flying, defying fear and gravity at the same time)

An excerpt from The Village Tales of Fekenham Swarberry

The road twisted sideways and then bent around Tollbunt Hill and bore on down toward the mole blind village of Fekenham Swarberry with its curtained windows and honey glow glass.

The night was warm and softly black and the moon waxed a splendid silver and a single owl hooted a solitary sound of winged wisdom.

Mrs Humshaw stood outside her front gate wearing a frown and a rose patterned frock and haloed by a host of flying gnats that buzzed about her head. Her husband, Terrence, 54, ruddy of complexion with a plump disposition and a shallow pocket, was late and had been, according to the local whisper of passing interest, "unavoidably detained on a matter of some urgency" at the local pub, The Frog and Radiator.

"Unavoidably detained my elbow", thought the aggrieved matron. She had murder in her eyes, poison in her heart and a large rolling pin in her hands.

The night drew its arms in tight to keep out the chill and the hedgerow shrank to a small whisper of rustling leaves as the footfalls of Terrence Humshaw ricocheted down the tumblestone, cobblestone roadway.

With lust in his loins for his full bodied wife, a belly a-swishing with warm ale and a bladder to match, he whistled a broken tune that scratched the nights pale eye. Unaware of his darling wife's foul mood he wobbled on toward his home.

He looked like the rudderless wreck of some ancient Spanish Galleon.

She looked like the stone sentinel at the gates of hell.

It was midnight at Rose Cottage and things had a skewed perspective.

Burial Rites

Grounded at the sea,
No more steps to run,
Did we fail that final dream?
Is the truth about to come?


I fight the ache where the blood seeps
Because I am always first in line.
Will this victory spell defeat?
As they follow so loyal and blind?

Your breath, it pulls me close,
So bitter in my ear.
Will you tell me why
When all has finished here?

Hector’s pleading cry,
Achilles mournful tear.
Bubbles empty sighs,
Makes us disappear.

And we depart from space
We wait the coming show
Soon we’ll take our place
Where spirits only know.

I soothe my beating fears,
In Hector’s bleeding wound
I feel Achilles cry,
While we settle in our doom.

The spirits now are fed;
Keep your prayers away;
The living and the dead
Have nothing more to say.

Marcia

pomegranite


Marcia

New clouds and trees wake
Moving through our trust in this;
Touching and releasing your grace
The creatures from tiny to huge rejoice,
Taking measure of their pain,
Their healing and birth, their true worth.
Beyond and ultimately here
This strong life you gave voice to
The listeners you protected and shared
So gently, like a bird or just a feather
Your natural light and healing seem
To have infused the world
I yearn to carry your love of all beings
Your death, your body passing, not diminished
Your smiling guidance, your well shared spirit
I love you and I feel your love for me
Thanks you for your friendship.

JM
2-7-06, 2-10-06

Toffee Love 3 (conclusion)

all that ever was, or ever could be, was here right now.

here.

i tried to pretend it wasn't happening, as if pretence could ward off the inevitable in the same way that a crucifix or a garland of garlic could ward off a vampire, but we both knew that what was happening was as much a ritual of fate as was the symmetry of the hour that wove the thread of minutes about us like a daisy chain.

we held fast to the myth of the moment and clung to it in silent desperation in a way that, with the gift of hindsight, was as funny as it was tragic.

one love, one life, when it's one need in the night

tragic like a pantomime horse or a clown with a painted smile and wounded, weeping eyes.

painful.
brutal.

honest?

sometimes though honesty is no substitute for self centred self deception but even so, we couldn't fail to realise the fundamental facts.

this was all there ever was.

and this was all there would ever be.

you see, love isn't just the falling in. that bit is easy. it is the falling out and then climbing back up that fucking big hole that really counts. climbing back up and out and reaffirming what real love is all about.

for a moment, a fraction of a time, i forgot. i saw my own hurt rise up like a hillside and i cowered down in front of such an obstacle. i cowered down and saw toffee love. sticky and sweet and available. but real love kicks ass. and i do love. i always have loved and always will love.

and the one love remains.

the pain that was then has passed and is nothing now but distant forgetfulness and toffee love is still a sweet taste.

but that is all it is.

and the one love remains.

one love, one life.

Another sad song

In her eyes
I see tender,
desperate love.
For an insensate egotist.
She loves him because
she needs to love.
Not necessarily,
someone deserving.
Like a young vine
that clings to
the first rough stone wall
it reaches out to.
A love so true
it'll die unknown,
unrequitted, uneulogised.
She'll fall in love again
even after having
her tendrils scorched.
But not as passionately.

March 2004

Manga chick

I've discovered the wonderful world of anime and manga. I guess I'll leave my 3D stuff aside and do this for a while now. This was made from scratch in Photoshop.

shame

it is the shame that floods me

in a way that i should have flooded her.

manly,

male,

alpha.

'but it's not you'

she cries,

she lies,

but i know it is

me.

me,

that hangs as limp as dish rag,

as useless as lettuce,

as pathetic as plasticine,

as welcome as ghonerea at the gates of heaven.

with all the promise gone unfulfilled.

so leave me alone.

fuck off.

let me wallow in self pity

with my fragile,

deflated,

male ego

as we drift apart

and into fitful sleep.

leave me alone.

words by cocaine jesus

What fate has befallen me...

OK, enough of 3D. Here's some old fashioned 2D art. Made entirely in Photoshop. I've put up a step-by-step tutorial on how I made this, in my blog.

The Punisher is Coming

With a little alarm I listened to the world news service that informed me about the infamous Punisher of Davao, a Philippine city, who is not only the city's mayor but also a television personality and also a man who likes to ride around his hometown on the back of a yamaha. his passionate focus has been to cleanse the city of crime and to do this he has employed thugs to kill any thing that breaks that law. man, woman or child. no matter how small or large a crime they all share the same fate.

this ridiculous set of words is a reaction to the horrid news broadcast and should be sung as to "The Teddy Bear's Picnic"

if you go down to davao today

you'd better stay in a pack.

if you go down to davao today

beware the blade in your back.

the punisher rides upon his bike

killing kids he doesn't like,

today's the day the punisher

kills your children.

if you go down on the streets today

you'd better not go alone

better not go on the streets today

better stay at home.

the punisher sets all the rules

then breaks their necks with metal tools

todays the day the punisher

kills your children.

.

.

.

.

words by cocaine jesus

.

.

.

Happy Violentine's

The phones rang frenetically. SMS’s jammed inboxes and emails flew across continents! The Violentine Rants had begun. That Woman was happily oblivious to it all till Pi - Gay Best Friend formerly known as P, (Phew…!) called.

“Are you single?” he asked but the tone was more like stating the obvious.

“And so are you,” she snapped back with equal attitude.

“And Valentine’s Day is around the corner,” he whined with a hint of sarcasm. This was their Violentine Rant. Which is, a long, angry and ideally humorous ‘rant’ inevitably done after successfully surviving one too many Valentine’s Days.
That Woman suddenly sat straight. “Shit! Yes! …Nooooooooooo!” How she hated Valentine’s Day! “Look into your crystal ball and tell me what you see for me?” Pi joked.“Ok!” she took a deep breath. “The planets are in your favor, and you’re in the power seat…for about a day. So don’t sleep through it. You will meet an exciting new man on the 4th but find out he has a boyfriend. Another sexy stranger will come into your life on the 10th -not as sexy as the first guy, but this one is at least available- and you will share an incredible night of passion. Then he won’t call you ever again. Take some risks this month. Although not risks like you took last month. You should ALWAYS use a condom. The planets are sorry to sound preachy but there are some things you, as a responsible adult must absolutely do.”

“Ha ha! Very funny!” Pi grunted. “And what’s yours?”

“This month, your personal life is entering a happier chapter, but that’s not saying much, because you have been a mess! Your planets turn fickle soon after. Pluto can’t decide if you should live happily ever after or die alone. This is the perfect time to lay low. Read a book. Take up Pilates. Any attempts at romance will end in disaster. Jupiter in Leo magnifies your parents’ fear that you will never marry. Hang on though, Nine West’s Spring/Summer shoes collection is coming out this month!”

That Woman knew the rants. She’d done the rants. She had a fresh rant last year when Pi and she decided to throw an Anti-Valentine’s Day party for their single friends…and Pi was suddenly caught up in a whirlwind romance and of course, ineligible for the party. Which never happened, by the way. This year, she vowed to look at the whole thing more intelligently and logically. So, instead of The Violentine Rant, she decided to earn some Good Karma points by helping people who got major anxiety attacks because of that day.

Dating is God’s evolutionary obstacle course.

A very important point to make and to remember at all times. No matter what! And if you wanted to move from one stage to the other, you had to clear the obstacles. With minimum injury to self. Speaking of which, there’s only one real ‘injury’. Dater’s Remorse. That sick feeling you get after dating someone you didn’t really need and couldn’t emotionally afford. In some people, it has been known to set in really really deep.

And by the onset of February, it gets worse. The unfortunate truth is that while most of us are savvy shoppers, we’re not sufficiently selective when looking for relationships, and that’s why we often suffer from Dater’s Remorse. Perhaps we should try to apply conventional consumer wisdom to men (or women - for all the male readers) as well as merchandise.

Here’s how:

1. Go with a classic, not a trend.

We all know it’s unwise to spend a month’s salary on a hot pink vinyl jacket from Moschino. But when it comes to men, even the most conservative among us occasionally invests in the human equivalent of a fashion fad.

Case in point: Traveling Artist. She was in film school then and her head was filled with great ideas about traveling all over the world, writing travelogues, taking pictures and being content. Since film school had attendance issues, instead of being one herself, she dated one. He had just returned from China and was filled with amazing anecdotes. He had also learned Tai Chi and could do it with a sword. Wow! She was sooo impressed. Concerned Best Friend’s warnings were completely ignored by telling her how he was sooo much more interesting than those boring banker types everybody else was dating. Of course, what turned out to be a fun, impulse buy turned out to require more of an emotional investment than she was willing to make. It took her two months to break up with him. Two-months of pure irritation, anger and annoyance. The good thing about Investment Banker types? They’re familiar with the expression ‘Cut your losses’.

2. Beware of the phrase ‘Some Assembly Required’

Anyone who has tried to follow translated-from-Chinese directions for putting together a food processor understands that when you’ve got to assemble something yourself, the money you save isn’t worth the time you spend. The same goes for men. Many women think that even though a guy is not exactly ‘together’ we can easily straighten him out. The fact is that fixer-uppers are more likely to stay forever flawed, no matter what you do.

3. Make sure your purchase goes with other things you own.

That Woman once fell in love with a very expensive deep red leather couch, and seriously considered buying it, even though it would mean being broke for months. But the couch…The Couch…she visited it a few more times, but didn’t buy, and not just out of sympathy for her bank account. She realized that if she bought that couch, she’d have to replace all her comfy old stuff with new knick-knacks equal in quality and style to the red leather couch. Men can be like that too. You’re drawn to them because they’re attractively different, but being with them may mean changing your entire life.

4. This once – AVOID BARGAIN HUNTING!

I know its end of January and all the sales happen! And for God’s sake, stop reading this and go check them out! That bag you saw for Rs. 4000 might have come down to Rs. 2000 and your sworn style rival could be in closer proximity of it than you are. BUT, for God’s sake, NEVER EVER pick up a guy at a Sale! I know, I know the temptation. I know the feeling, “It’s not really my style but it’s available really cheap and I’ve always wanted to try it… Oh! What the heck! We only live once!” Swipe card. Sign receipt. Take home trouble and a sexy pair of shoes!

So, before the ‘Swipe Card’ stage, it’ll be better to remember the principle behind end of season sales. No Refund. No Exchange! So, no picking-up a man just because he’s…there!

5. Check with previous owners.

Once beyond age 25, most men would have to be classified as secondhand (or Pre-Owned, as you please). And we all know how risky it is to buy used merchandise. Dater’s Remorse has been known to especially affect most when you realize the man you thought was The One, was married!

Checking helps eliminate such jerks to a considerable extent. This includes men who don’t tell you they’re married when you meet them, men who tell you they’re getting divorced, men who never plan to get divorced, and in most cases – all three wrapped up in a handsome little package.

Therefore, it’s up to you to do basic consumer research. Find out how many previous owners your selection has had. Hear the Jerk Alert Bang: If he’s such a steal, why is he still available? …Is it because he’s not all that hot-looking, or because he’s fundamentally a jerk.

(Before becoming too critical, bear in mind that you’re still available.)

Okay, so the number of players has been narrowed down to a chosen few. There’s nothing worse than almost marrying someone, breaking it off, and having to start over as a victim of Cupidism. Or being in a relationship where the uncertainty drives you mad!

You look at the various Red Things That Symbolize V-Day and it seems like they’re mocking you. Imagine two red heart shaped balloons telling you, “We know we’re on our way out in 3 days. Do you?” It’s like failing your twelfth class board exams and having to go back to kindergarten. Having said that, here is what will help the most.

The Relation Competency Exam!

It’s time saving, money-saving and easy to use. You and only you can determine whether your date’s answers merit relationship credit. His Relationship Worthiness. The exam is completely unscientific, and until someone comes up with a better one, this is the standard.

Relationship Competency Exam – for Men

1. English: What does it mean when you say, “I’ll call you?”

2. Math: How many women can you have sex with and still be monogamous?

3. Physics: Find a way to arrange your bathroom things on your half of the sink, knowing full well your girlfriend needs the whole sink for her things.

4. Economics: Who pays for dinner if your date makes more money than you and how long before you resent her for it?

5. Psychology: Other than abject fear, what are some possible reactions to the words, “I love you?”

Relationship Competency Exam – for Women

1.English: When you say, “I’m not in a rush to get married”, define the word ‘rush.

2.Math: Is the amount of minutes it takes you to evaluate a date as Relationship Worthy, more than or equal to the amount of minutes it takes you to ignore the red flags?

3. Physics: Find a way to arrange your bathroom things on your half of the sink while still maintaining the illusion that you wake up looking this good.

4. Economics: How much should you pay for an apartment you never visit in order to keep a boyfriend from freaking out that you live in his?

5. Psychology: Other than abject fear, what are some possible reactions to the words, “I’m not ready for a relationship yet?”

Disclaimer: Following these guidelines won’t guarantee a great relationship, but it will help you cut down on the number of times you feel Dater’s Remorse. Obviously, finding the right man is a bit more complicated than buying a microwave.]

So, Happy Shopping people! And once the hype and hoopla has died down, we shall come back here to discuss issues of larger existential importance.

Kamasutra II (Zbrush)

Kamasutra tales (Zbrush & Photoshop)

Toffee Love 2

i want you to take me on the front of a car
whilst the rain falls and soaks us to the bone

she said those words. she said those words to me. and i loved her though i shouldn't.
.
i had never seen teeth so white or eyes so blue before. pearls and diamonds. diamonds and pearls.
her tongue tasted of stale cigarettes and the taste made me glad that i didn't smoke.
the sun stroked the car like the golden hand of god caressing a cat and the promise of days stretched out before us.
a myth in the making but a pleasant one.
.
she undid my shirt and sucked upon my nipples and then kissed my stomach with the flutter kiss of butterfly lips.
i sighed a smug and self satisfied sigh and thought that there must be a god in heaven that has blessed me with forbidden kisses that fell from my chest to my midriff to my waist.
down.
down.
i placed my hands on her knees and prised her legs apart and she screamed. the sound shattered the moment as though stones thrown against stained glass.
.
what's wrong? honey, what's wrong?
.
she wept tears of poisoned jade from those gorgeous azure eyes.
she spoke in staccato syllables that bruised against her sobs and told me of a step father with his ivy hands and worm withered loins. she spoke of dark days and even darker nights and of a mother who knew but looked the other way with blinkered eyes. of a man who whispered honeyed threats and wanted secrets sinister kept silent and hidden like cobwebs in a coffin.
.
"this is love, this is love that i'm feeling"
.
and i knew then that the scars of childhood terrors and memories ran deeper than any shared love.
and i knew then.
.
take me home. please....
.
she said those words. she said those words to me. and i loved her though i shouldn't.

.

.

.

.

words by cocaine jesus

.

for further visits to CJ's warped world please go to: Ritual Acts with Penquins

The Inverted Rainbow

Cigarette smoke vanishing like
an Indian rope trick to the ceiling.
Men laughing at their own nakedness
as the drinks peeled layers of shyness,
peg after peg.

Waiters, harried, running to and fro
looking tipsy with all the brews fumes.

“What,” some dope asks, “Is
the most beautiful thing in the world ?”
Answers from the sublime to
ribald to the risqué rakes the
bar’s smoke fog, followed by
guffaws.

Until one silent man who
seemed to grow inward as he got
high and higher, opens his mouth.
“I had seen an inverted rainbow,”
he says solemnly. So out of place.
“That, was the most beautiful.”

“He is the drunkest,” we all howl.
“Or cock-eyed,” says the jester.
“Maybe he walks with his
legs held high and his head firmly
planted on the ground.” the wit says.

More comments, critiques and wise cracks.
More sniggers, taunts, barbs.

“He is the weirdest,” we all agree,
as the man finishes his drink.

He gets up.
He looks unwounded by our snides
and holds his head high.

“ I had,” he looks around pityingly
at us sozzlers, “seen my girl smile.”

And he walks out.

The Whore of Babylon (made in Zbrush)

Kali and Shiva (made in Zbrush)

Seemann (made in Zbrush)

Komm in mein Boot

ein Sturm kommt

auf und es wird Nacht ...

"distance" [boomerang poem]

    A thousand miles   is hard to comprehend
    a foot or two   is in my scope of reckoning

    I wonder   when you speak of distance   friend
    if this is but   a shadow darkly beckoning?

    a century   exceeds my certain grasp
    I think I hear   what lines the hours send

    at times   the voice of time is but a gasp
    a thousand miles   is hard to comprehend!

A Long Evening Walk...

Under a cold-blooded sky
pigmented with your thoughts
I walk from stillness to motion

but with each step the truth peels off
like colours from mildewed buildings,
like skin from freshly healed wounds

and I wonder,
in a mist-gathering hug,
was the world more coloured at standstill?

© Dan Husain
January 28, 2006