Fight Club 2.0

My head throbbed and i felt myself blacking out again. I tried to fight the sinking sensation, but i didnt have the strength to resist it. My fragmented mind was slipping away, as i was pulled back in the darkness.
An incessant drip..drip…drip brought me round. Though my mind was fogged, i became aware of rain. Heavy rain and frightening thunder roared from the heaven. The drip was infuriating, but my body ached so much…that i had to surrender to it.

Forcing my eyes to open, i discovered myself to be a complete mess.

My lower lip was slit, ribs ached but on inspection, not broken. My left eye was swollen. I knew the punch was hard as soon as it landed on my face. Damn you, Tyler!  

My eyes are somehow open and are rolling over the broken glasses, which is letting the rain in, rats moving all around with utmost freedom, doors creaking as the wind strikes them hard. Yes. You guessed it right. My home sweet home. Back in the days it was a two-storeyed bungalow. But now, it’s haunting. It seems only vampires of the fairy tales could live here. But it’s cool to me. The ancient wood is strong and furnitures oriental. It sends a royal tickle down the bone. 
Tring, Tring!  Rang the telephone. 

Hello? Whose there? 

“Its me Marla Singer, you asshole. Thanks for last night, Tyler. I havent been fucked like this since high school! It’s gonna be the fuck of the century.”

“Wait, it’s not Tyler here. I’ll convey your message to him, though.”

What the fuck are you talking about Tyler? The scars affected your brain. But not your dick. I must say that!”

Dead. She hung up. 

Marla Singer. She is one hell of a woman. A member of the Prostrate Cancer Community. God dammit! I have known her from the time I moved to this place. Tyler and Marla would always be on first floor and I,  downstairs would hear the bed creaking periodically. She says she lets Tyler fuck her, so that life doesnt fuck up with her. A complicated soul. A bitch! 

But what concerns me is not what they did yesterday night, but why will she confuse me with Tyler Durden. What is wrong with her? 

Okay. It’s time to get up. 

I crawled to the edge of the bed, with my right leg aching as hell. It seems to be fractured. I forcibly threw my legs down, transferred by weight on my legs and there i am. Ta-da! Standing. Though my knees are hurting, I planned to walk upto the door.  I did it somehow dragging myself on one foot. 

I walked down the ladders, which were creaking on each step I landed on them. Helping myself on the less injured leg, I finally reached the kitchen. 

The members of Tyler’s MAYHEM project were down there, working on something horrific and probably dangerous. Either they are gonna blow up a whole fuckin’ city or whatever insane thing comes to their mind. Tyler wanted anarchy, and so the result was this motherfucking project.

The workers gave me an awkward look, inspected my injuries with their eyes and went back to work again. Nobody asked or even a spoke a word to me. 

Well, it was me who broke the silence. “Where is Tyler?”

They replied all at once – “The first rule of Mayhem Project is-no questions. The second rule of Mayhem Project is- No Questions!”

“C’mon, tell me where’s Tyler! ”

“Is that a test, sir? ” a confused Leto replied. 

“What? What’s a test in this? ”

“Coz you are Tyler Durden.”

I was dumbstruck. C’mon ass-face. Don’t fuck with me. Where is Tyler?

“You are Tyler, sir!” replied the other guys.

“I am Tyler Durden? What the fuck is wrong with these guys?  I was thinking Marla was kidding me, but these guys had no ways to fool me. If the Mayhem Project members said something, it’s gonna be true. Even if they said the sun rises from the west, it would do so from the next morning.

What the hell is going on?



The crownless will be crowned again.
The rusted blade thirsts for blood today.

Mothers sacrifice their sons without tears.

A war not bloody has been fought before.

A war not cruel too. Revenge broils in blood.

Men will fight for lands seized from them.
The crownless will be crowned again.
A fire will flicker from the ashes long slept.

From the fog and filthy air shall he appear unafraid.

To bathe enemies in their reeking wounds.

Will drain them dry as hay, swines covered in filth.

The sun sunk in the horizon will rise again.

When the white winds blow and the heaven itself descends,

That day, by Thy grace, shall he be the king. Again.

All hail my lord, thou shalt be king. Again.


किसी समंदर के छपाकों की तरह मेरे मन में भी कुछ सवालात पैदा हुए-

क्यों भगवान का दर्जा पाने वाली को आज नापाक करार कर दिया।

जिस कोख ने तुम्हे जन्म दिया उसी को आज अपवित्र कह दिया।

जिनका आँचल पकड़ कर चलना सीखा तुमने,

उन्हें का आज तुमने रास्ता काट दिया।
जिस गोद में खेलकर बड़े हुए हो,

उसी को अपना संसार मानो तुम।

देश के लिए कुछ करना हो तो,

अपनी सोच सुधारो तुम।

अपनी सोच सुधारो तुम।

Ah, you.

Hidden under a tree, I found.

A nameless dairy, no address on it.

Written on the torn pages, was a soul. 

Trapped in it.
It read:

Under the moon and stars I am.

Sleepless. Wide awake.

I have bathed in this night’s ink.

I have turned darker.

Darker than you left me.
Do you remember our cold, sleepless nights?

The way we warmed ourselves by the warmth of each other’s body.

The way you slept on me. 

The way I covered myself with you.
Do you remember?
Between the lines, over the leaf, it was written,

Pages stained with teardrops read:
My heart still pains,

Sadness hitting me like the waves hit the rocks.

Eddies of blood and slashed flesh I smell.
I remember your name,

It makes love to my heart,

The way wine does to my brain.
I remember you a lot, I see.

Don’t you remember me?
For time is a ball of wool,

Everyone cuts out their own cloth,

The shirt I had weaved is now torn.

I know my time has come.
You don’t remember me anymore, I know.

For I am an old forgotten poetry.

Scribbled on torn pages,

Hid under a tree.

The Unconquerable.

My head is hurt, but unbowed.

My body is crushed but my soul unconquerable.
Beyond this wrath and menace,
I shall lay unafraid.
I am charged with punishments,
But i have never cried aloud.

From this blackest pit, i shall rise.
Rise above all horizons.
Like a wind I shall sweep,
The odds and frantic minds off the land.

For a free man has the strength,
To move the earth and heaven.
Nothing lies more powerful,
Than heroic hearts and strong will.

A new day will be born,
For those who stand long.
The skies will echo with laughter,
And the flowers will bloom with glory.

Power Of Words.

I slay dragons,
and calm hurricanes with my words.
You are just a mere stroke of my pen.
This whole universe, my little notebook.

Words – my weapon, cut deeper than knives,
and also heal severe wounds.
They make your cheeks go red,
or set your brains on fire.

I can imprison you with my words,
or set you free like a bird.
My words give hope.
My words take life away.

 I am immortal. For I will never die.
Will always remain in my words
and in my lover’s heart.

I am the God of my world.
The devil also.

Rusted Diamond.

Hark my words, the mighty men.
A lone, wolf I am.
Shrinked and decayed.
But dare fight me, only to die.

Ruling the black waters, sailing with pride,
to take down the horizon,
with all my might.
Yo -Ho! The Black Pearl, I am.

Not to flock in a pack,
But to hunt down one.
Fearless is my spirit, to conquer the world.
You know I am the Eagle, flying through the mountains.

A rusted Diamond, I am.
Not to be spotted in a trove,
But treasured deep down the seas.
For the world to discover me