Wah-Come!

*With rainy eyes here I post this. Don't ask why my eyes are raining!!!

I forgot to put wire into it!! Anyways this was done quite some time ago. I just found it today so am putting it here.

Modeling - 3DS MAX

Render - Mental Ray

Compoting of texture - After Effects

Matilda You Sitting In Kathmandu

* Not my best...but I wrote it in a fit of what ever it was. So I wont even care to correct it. These fits I tell You...They have been there for too long. Now I think Next Destination Kathmandu. If that helps at all!!!! :P :P :P :P...Mountains of joy and mountains of wisdom.

Matilda you sitting in Kathmandu

A back with a quaint tattoo

What have you to say?

What with your smile and eyes pray?

How I am forlorn in this room

Lonely without a microphone

Wonder how I managed so far to stay sane

When Matilda weaved carpets from rain

Why I ask shun me?

Why If there reason be?

But none of these answers seem sane

As Matilda weaves carpets from rain

My best and my worst poem

And everything in between

With every distraction

I always thought I knew what you would mean

Where oft did go my cries in pain

As you struggled over that carpet of rain

Matilda with yellow and white

Your smile and eyes bright

What become of me and my question plain?

As you casually strip this carpet of rain

Dear! Dear!

Hold on!

Nothing done

And nothing yet wrong

Please

I beg and plead

Don’t unwind that carpet of rain

Baby I am still the same

As I crawl on this falling carpet of rain

Yes I am still the same

While falling from this carpet of rain

That We Weaved.

Deceiving and Deceived.

I have a lot of questions in my head. Swarming streams in rage: confused kitchen in heaven: prepare my thoughts with some more spices. Confusion occurs when we mistake our understanding of things with the things in itself. Confusion of eternity. Two lives. One forgotten; the other going to forget. One that I live here, a chance approval of nature. No super being only us. The sick dream. The other, the one I lived before I was born and the same that I shall live after I die. Was it longer then this? Did it last only some years and then I was thrown in the dust pan of a womb? Guttered out into this dismal reality of obsessions and mirages. But the other has a serene nothingness, a silent spectator through one eye. All eyes see the same, not boring, just nothing. No chance there, no consequence either. Unparallel universe. The eternal question though remains to be…

What are you thinking? She asks. Cold eyes, stern jaw but a voice that pleads the softness of disaster. Don’t make her ask again she means.

…Broken.

— Snap out dreary soul

Snap out of that confusion

The unreal beseeches you.

Nothing.

That is too feeble a reply.

—The monster seeketh a mistake.

Pounce.

Jab.

Tear.

Feast.

What do you mean nothing? Of course you were thinking something. I saw you thinking. She raps.

Aa.

Prolonged voice of confusion. The fall of man, the sound of his fall. Eden of thought lost forever. Bright light, sweet air and a stooping god: blotched. Confusion. Is this is bad dream, or is it something that in itself isn’t.

Why is she looking at me like that? Is she anything? The thing in itself?

Why do you have to lie to me? She screams. If you don’t want to tell me, you might as well tell me.

Devouring princess, seamstress of dark voids, she engulfs. If I cant tell her I should tell her. Confusion. Confusion of life. Expectation: the birth of confusion, not understanding.

Why is she still looking at me like that? Do I have to reply. Is this the second life that I am living. No, the first. Truce.

No honey I was just thinking how gorgeous you look.

The sword falls. All drapes are sliced. Savage with her eyes, splits into the other. Moans. Gorgeous this second world.

Deceiving and deceived.

Rain Dampens Those Words of Clay

I have woken in many a land

Many a shores that changed many a sand

But where does this all lead?

Moments pass and moments plead

Why be we the most wretched kind

A thousand years we inevitably unwind

The same history, its repetition present portray

But rain dampens those words of clay

Every day

Yes, everyday

How rain dampens those words of clay

The mirrors of our culture newspapers project

While some lonely poet these projections correct

Still we become our cruelest dream

As society merges into an ugly stream

Again poets write in tired words

Those suicidal lines for forgetful herds

Yet their emotions fail to achieve again

Because rain dampens those words of clay

Every day

Yes, everyday

How rain dampens those words of clay.

Accepts_And_Deck-cepts!

* Had made this just for fun, and guess what they liked it 'AS IT IS'..just a little bit of coloring, but thats about it. I dont know what they saw in this!! drunken film maker gone ashtray? hehehee....the company is a newly opened production house by Mr. Sanjay Soorkar...the man has some talent...I must confess...especially with women centric films and stories.

* Some of the 24 discarded Logos...Damn the Wants and Needs of peoples mans...first they dont know what they want, and then they dont like what you give...Though I know there is nothing even remotely creative about these, but you know, they asked me not go for illustration, and then they selected the one above. HOW NICE! So please refrain from stopping me from illustrations next time. though actually the demand was for a TYPO, and offered something else. The problem with typo is that its just font. I dont like that. Not my type. I have to finger a bit. So I guess it is my own fault that I find myself unsatisfied (I am not whining about anything, just relating the turn of events in a particular case).

I literally think that these might pass for the worst ever types. :P :P :P..but anyways, I'll just post them never the less. have fun!

Charity Of Prostitution

Where does it come from,

To fill their labyrinthine pockets?

To feed their senile illusions

Sermons atop glimmering stages.

Who put it all into their hands

That they might judge and abolish us?

I look deeper inside tonight

For I have stumbled on their truth

I am not alone here

A little late though I might be

For years at end they cursed

Giving hope of a later life to destroy this

I was amazed at how they survived

No more! No more surprises!

Alas!

Flash Lights!

Curiosity reveals the ancient face

Scarred and stinking

The man with the huge belly

To save his taxes of his taxes

Of the women he sells at night

Sends forward a donation!

God in his mercy

His two faced disciples

Eagerly thank

The goodness of the deed

Come on, now is the time

Where are your screams of blasphemy?

Where are the echoes of your curses?

Now shall sleep the poor without fear

Now shall sleep the honest without hate

Now rise the morning anew

Close down the divine gate.

Return To Me My Childhood

* The Image was made in 3D Max...and also wrote some shitty stuff...so posted that as well...I dont think that they are related though...

We have always sung

Songs to some wretched tune

Always sung to ghastly the ghastly full moon

That being the desire that has led us

As I quietly look back in time

Gross history we have created

Man has never stood by man

And animals man always hated

The full moon psychedelia

Blood bath and vengeance

Swords, musket paraphernalia

Our legacy, culture, heritage

Return to me my childhood

Or give me my beloved death

Among the dirt of society

I think I waste my every breath

But there is not forest to run to

No animal left sane

Nothing but concrete jungles

We’ve bled to the end of the game

“Nature thy vengeance

I shall embrace

As mercy”

New_Monic

*This is the latest in the zone of mnemonics...Drishtant is the company I work with at the moment. And surprisingly it didnt have a logo.

The thought behind this is that wherever we go we leave our stamp behind. the mohar thing. so here it is. The envelope was just a test at how it would look once it goes on screen.

Do let me know what you think of it...