Redhya

WHY DO WE EXIST? This very question occurs to me once in a while; it never fails to intrigue me. Far away from the anxiety of bread and butter, lounging on bed, when I try to see the universe through my small mind and two eyes, I contemplate what made it and why it was made.  Why Do Things Exist in Nature? Oblivious to materiality, I ponder the origin of everything. The whole process of unraveling the mysteries of the universe feels as though I were freediving in a deep sea which has no bottom. We rational beings always look for a reason or a cause behind every event. Thus, we firmly support the causality principle . The principle explains the cause and effect of two or more events. For instance, one event causes another event or events. The first event is the cause of the second event or other events, and the second event or other events are the effect of the first event. As a result, looking for the cause behind the origin, I dive deep into the sea of premises to find it (conclus...

I have put in my wired earphones. Listening to "I'm with you" with half an ear, I can still feel the pain in her voice in the song since I have heard it infinite times. Riding slowly my Classic 350 through a dark road densely surrounded with trees, I see a man heating peanuts by the roadside. It's common to see peasants selling heated peanuts in small shops by roadsides in winter. The man is tossing peanuts under an LED bulb that is powered by a small battery. The smell of burning coals and the shells of peanuts is gratifying. I feel like stopping by and savoring the moment. The weather is changing. Now, I feel the cold evening wind piercing through my polo t-shirts. Unlike in summer, it's peaceful. Crickets are gone and frogs as well. When the world is at peace; we can hear what our soul is saying. In this calmness, I find a way to escape uncertain reality. Well, the song ends, and I kickstart my motorbike. I have to go home now.

Walking down a narrow path covered with fallen leaves, I find calmness that I have been yearning for so long. A foggy dense thicket surrounds the wet path. I see trees that I have known since my first heartbreak. Now, they are no longer green; their leaves are turning red, orange and brown like a setting sun dispersing the hues of red. Evenings are getting colder, and days are getting shorter. As I walk towards my destination - an abandoned cabin in the woods, I can feel the temperature dipping gradually. Thus, my body shivers a little as the cold autumn wind goes by. I put in my wired earphones and play Somewhere Only We Know. I feel like diffusing in the air whispering in my ear to slow down my agitated life at this moment. This is my season, and it tells me to hibernate in the cave where, once, I burnt some memories to keep myself warm. *** If you like the way I write, you may want to try my books. Heads Up! You get awesome dark content there. Virgins’ Death: Follow The Crow V...

No matter how stringent protocols related to narcotics become, you can obtain weed in Dehradun with such ease that you might think that possessing it isn’t criminal at all. As a result, in Dehradun, while passing through desolate streets, chances are h i G H that you might come across a bunch of boys toking on a joint and laughing hysterically. Besides, you may find them equipped with loads of munchies and bottles of flavoured drinks. To be honest, your presence might make them hyper-vigilant, but they won’t say no if you ask them for a couple of drags. Weed in Dehradun can be procured through various sources. However, it’s not a piece of cake to score some good quality of weed. Look through this article to get the street knowledge of weed in your own lovely Doon Valley . The Rudiments of Weed in Dehradun Before we get to the street knowledge of this psychoactive substance, let’s get some basic knowledge of weed. Weed in Dehradun is majorly available in two forms: Ganja and Charas or...

You’re a particle – a tiny particle. At this very moment, if the cosmos stopped expanding and had no light, and standing at edge, you wanted to see yourself on the earth so you threw some photons from the edge of the cosmos, you would need approximately 93 billion years to see yourself as photons would reach the earth first, and then it would get reflected back to the edge of the cosmos and enter into your corneas and your occipital lobe would create a few pictures inside your head and you would recognise yourself- you’re at the centre and at the edge. An average human has the lifespan of 79 years; therefore, you would need approximately 10 billion lives just to see yourself from the edge of the cosmos that stopped expanding. However, in reality, the cosmos hasn’t stopped expanding yet, and it is expanding at 73 kilometres per second per megaparsec. Now, you can imagine how big the cosmos is. A tiny particle you are, and just like everything in space, you’re a part of a chain reaction....

Day in, day out, you work double shifts to become what you've always dreamt of becoming. Be it day or night, you always imagine yourself living that moment of success; you're on a stage, and people are clapping for you and screaming your name at the top of their voices. The moment is surreal; it brings a beautiful smile on your face. Thus, your heart starts pounding against your chest, and you feel a weird, however, exhilarating sensation all over your body as though every cell of your body were electrified.  Suddenly, the curtains close, and you come back to reality.  It's been weeks since you sat on a chair and did nothing. Now, you can't recall the last time when you watched a movie or had a long conversation with your friends and family. You try to make each second productive, because your dreams ask for it. You think - if you procrastinate, you're not serious about it; you're not putting your heart and soul into it. Moreover, you tell yourself e...

Before taking the path to spirituality, feed your mind with science, and understand the cause and effect phenomenon of the universe. If you believe in some powers or energies that miraculously do events around you, then you're viewing the world from only one pov that's yours. The earth is filled with 4 quadrillion quadrillion bacterias, 10 billion billion ants, 500 trillion Antarctica krills, 18.6 billion domestic chickens, 7.8 billion humans, 1.4 billion cattle, 1.1 billion sheep, 3 million great whales, 0.5 million elephants, and many other living things and non-living things that can become a part of the cause and effect phenomenon. Your uncertainty is not god. The uncertainty of the occurrence of an event is not God. If you assume the existence of a superpower behind the occurrence of an event, then you ignore the existence of other living things and non-living things in the universe. Their existence influences the events happening around us. The human mind isn't capabl...

whene'er i pick a quill, a thousand words yet to be born intone a fearless song all night long. though as the raw ink is about to defile a blank sheet, a glimpse of a papery child curling numb amidst haunting fears appears and then disappears. the child afraid of screams has poems with no words, for someone told him - verses are nothing but piercing screams. with the tongue full of papercuts, the child says -  i’m not a poet, for poetry is a lie -  some random words that evoke emotions. though, some lies help dying souls survive, as if poesy were the last breath  blown into their mouths in hope  they might revive.  i'm not a poet, because poetry is a lie -  because words can’t make any difference to bland lives.  though, some words are powerful enough  to make people throw knives  that would’ve slit their wrists,  for pain couldn't’ve sufficed their empty lives.  i'm not a poet, for poetry is a lie - these verses are arranged rhythm...

I'm the sharpened tip of the pencil lying on your desk. The peeled wood still stuck in your sharpener was my guard. You uncovered me so that I can become a bloomed flower on a bland white sheet. If you could read me, you would see my desire to turn me into a deadly serpent wrapped around you, squeezing every inch of you. You swiftly move some sheets, and the pencil rolls towards the edge and falls onto the ground. I’m broken - I'm detached and lost somewhere under the bed. To be honest, the fall felt like a lifetime. That's why they say - your consciousness summarises your life when you're dying. You look at the pencil with the missing tip and feel that pang has paralyzed your body for a few seconds. I look from afar and experience your grief through your remorseful eyes. You take a trip filled with guilt and come back with a sharpener. The moment passes, and you make someone like me. *** buy my books on amazon -  redhya

I hadn't ever seen death being peaceful. My dog was dying. My mother comfortably laid him at his favourite spot that was beside the shoe rack in the verandah. I watched him taking his last breaths. I remembered his early years when he was such a pain in the arse. He'd gnaw everything that smelt like feet: socks, slippers, and shoes. I didn't hate him when he chewed down my white crocs even though I liked them. I got him chewy bones a couple of times. He'd do "grrrrrrr" when I tried to reach a bone in his mouth. Lying on a tattered rug, he opened his eyes; they were filled with tears. My mother was crying. I felt nothing as if I were lifeless. I looked at him slowly crawling towards us. When he reached my mother's feet, he looked at her. Putting his head on her feet, he collapsed and didn't wake up after that. *** buy my books on amazon -  redhya

Incessant rhythmic tremors vibrate a nearly empty martini glass kept on a table; I’m desperate to see it leisurely falling off and shattering into pieces so as to know who takes care of a broken object and a fucking stolid life. Colourful ambient lights! Drooping eyelids and swaying bodies, underneath a disco ball, are imitating vibrating, deafening beat drops. I’m at a high-end nightclub in Mumbai, letting life slip away as always. Tick, tock, tick, tock! Through the hammered crowd dancing on the floor, a young man sitting across gazes at me. Damn! He looks so foreign. The blue jacket on his torso complements his buffed carcass. He’s sitting at the bar, whereas I’m sitting at the dance floor. Perhaps, he has been looking at me for a long time. Glancing away for a few seconds, I look back at him for a fleeting moment. Man! He has everything that stands him out from the berserk crowd. Messy hair, cute spectacles, a golden watch, short pants, and a pair of black Chuck Taylors. He gesture...

The journey to Redhya was extremely long, for I took approximately 23 years to reach there. Hi! My name is Dheeraj Preet , and I’m an author. When I was fairly young, I somewhat disliked my name. The reason behind my irrational dislike was that I’d find the name, Dheeraj , ordinary. No, truth be told, I hated it, and, on top of that, people shortened it to Dheeru . Wow! It’d have taken me ages to think this as my pet name. I’d be pissed off when someone called me Dheeru except my family . It felt like they wanted me to take my thumb out of my mouth when they addressed me as Dheeru . Dheeraj means patience. I couldn’t name myself Patience. I thought that it would be so weird if someone said, “ Oye Patience Preet! Idhar aa. ” I certainly needed a cool name. As a result, I thought about Dherya . It’s a Sanskrit version of the words: patience and calmness. Later, I thought – If I am putting this much effort into finding a cool name, then why not I think a little more. In childhoo...

It's sad when people can't conclude whether they are being strong or they are just dying slowly. I was hurt; there was nothing I could do. Thus, I accepted the things the way they were, not because I was weak, but because I would have ruined everything if I had done anything. Putting on the façade of being unhurt, I accidentally cut off the bridge between me and some traumatized parts of my cerebrum. Surely, it was just a phase, but I was shaken to the core. Eventually, time took its course of action, and the phase passed by. I wish "sorry" could be enough to mend the broken bridge. Unfortunately, any amount of repentance couldn't repair me. Now, I feel strong, but I know that I'm just dead *** buy my books on amazon -  redhya

I was incessantly looking at the scabs on my elbow when, all of a sudden, a few images of my recent past flashed in front of my eyes. The images were vivid; it felt like yesterday although it happened yesterday. I could smell those pictures; I saw blood on my elbow dripping onto a white cotton carpet sluggishly. I had punctured my elbow with my sister’s divider. She hated that thing, for she didn’t know how to use it. I counted the wounds; I had struck myself five times. Now the wounds were healing, and I felt like itching one. Impatiently, I scratched off one scab; the skin got ruptured, and a little drop of blood emerged from the wound. Just like the stained white cotton carpet, pages on my table are stained with my thoughts. Without an opening, I couldn’t have stained the white carpet, and it’d have remained white except being a comfortable place for dust and mites. Likewise, the scattered pages on my table need to be stained. Without a cut, I can’t stain those premium white pages t...

i’m between the page numbers 71 and 72 of the poetry book where you hid the red rose from your hot-headed brothers. funny, they never liked me. i’m the love letter that your mother torn into pieces. taping the torn pieces together, you kept it under your pillow. that night, you cried a lot, reading the taped page again and again. i was broken when I shattered the snow globe which you gave me on my 23rd birthday. i didn’t like you talking with other guys. i’m on the rusty bench of the park where you slapped me gently for not caring about us. i’m sorry for taking you for granted. i’m a soft kiss on your forehead that your lover gives you every night. i asked him not to break your heart as i did. *** buy my books on amazon -  redhya

i see my life confined to smoke rings, attempting to make a perfect one, dense and round, a bad trip consumes me one by one i start losing every sense of mine it begins since i can’t feel the roach between my fingers as though I were born with a cigarette between the index and middle dwelling inside my head, all of a sudden, voices from my past come alive sitting by myself in a room, i scream - stop screaming! i hear a voice, “these cracked walls have nothing to say.” my burnt lips taste like bitterness spread over frustration and restlessness. the room reeks of heaven and hell it smells like dead bodies burning and angels gyrating looking through white clouds, i see everything fading away the trip seizes my soul and drops me in a scary place where i find myself surrounded by the ghosts of my dead dreams *** buy my books on amazon -  redhya

Amidst the outbreak of the novel Coronavirus in various parts of the world, Manish and I were sitting at our desks. He was making a few test cases for a module of a hybrid website. Intermittently, chatting with his colleagues on Skype, he dropped a message in a company’s group and rested his head on the desk. His message read , “COVID-19 has spread across the nations. India is in the first phase of its transmission. Working at office, we’re safe. We need to sanitize our hands frequently and keep at least 1-metre distance from people who are…” I knew why he forwarded that message. I looked at him sleeping and smiled at his wittiness. Almost, every person in the office had seen that message, but no one dared to send something before HR. Out of nowhere, a notification popped up on my screen – “Abhay has sent a message”. I was shocked when I saw the message. I imagined HR gnashing her ultra-white teeth while looking at the message. It was a link that was directed to a pornography ...