The Sanctum

Welcome, traveller. This be the realm of Jay Niner, where everything be possible, and nothing ever happens. If, perchance, thou wisheth to tarry, then find thou a page from the Grimoire and read. For we are here in eternity, and we are in medias res.


Errant Thoughts

Errant thoughts ne'er did none any good.
But I guess for some brainstorming it's food.

There was a time when I was happy, and free
And now I can't three feet ahead see.

I decided to screw my life and my boss, not in that order
Hey, one was hopeless, the other sexy, I'm on the border.

And everyday brought me closer to my goal.
If only I could remember, I'd regain my soul.

After any amount of useless soulsearching
And meaningless poem-making.

Love's fine when all's well,
But never is one in love saved by a bell.

Which is probably why I left my last girl before things could get anymore serious than they already were.
For sure.

Bah, I's rambling to no tangible end of any hope.
My New Year's gonna be one for a sot, so lemme to a wineshop lope.

And get yourself one!
Old monk to Black Label or Chianti to go, it's all good when all's said and done.


Fuck this.

After three attempts at writing a decent blog, my language slips into something more comfortable. Why the fucking fuck would I wanna write something with my helluva english screaming "Read me!"?
Nah, I'll just write something fucking stupid.
The need to write a blog- the fucking basic idea-
There's always someone to take shit.
For every bakra in the world, there's two butchers. For every critic in the world, there's two bloggers.
But I ain't no such bloody blogger.
I ain't no one's bitch.

But then hey, that's just me.



Freedom of expression means I don't have to write anything.


Welcome to the Future

As I wrung the bike’s accelerator to zoom across the nearly empty road at what was usually a busy time, it occurred to me that I’d never reach the green signal in time. As a consolation prize, I stumbled into a pothole the size of a dog that had evidently been placed as a contingency plan for those who avoided the one right next to it. The sudden jolt shook me to my teeth.
Much of the road was the same; where the potholes did not appear, there were garishly painted to-the-point signs, which read, rather ominously, “Men at work.” It did not say, of course, that the men at work had decided to take a smoke. Thank you for smoking, men at work, we all know how much the roads depend on your smoking and imbibing of so much tea in a day.
On the other hand the roads were bustling with huge, lumbering trucks, maneuverable scooters and buzzing bikes. Nowhere was there any semblance of order in the cacophony of horns that sounded, regardless of any hospitals around. And when the green light decided to make an appearance, order be damned, we’re in a hurry. As it was, so it has been, so it will be. I realized that the problem was not with the potholes, or with the men at work, or with the usual lack of order at the traffic stops; people had simply stopped caring about the scooter/bike/car/truck/bus before/beside/behind them, and simply wanted to move on, to the next traffic stop, equally uncaring their surroundings and those in it. Welcome to the Urban Jungle. Welcome to the future of Mankind.
A vision of Kurt Wimmer’s Equilibrium (2002) connects with something in my mind. In the not-so-distant future, mankind undergoes a third world war, and to make sure a fourth doesn’t rear its ugly head, humanity as a whole (the government, to be exact) decides to put to mass effect an emotion-suppressing drug, effectively wiping out emotions such as hate, rage, anger, greed and so on. The “Father”, the one who established the system, remarks, “the price we pay for unceasing peace is to lose all of our emotions, including joy, happiness, peace, contentment…” The drug is effective enough that the Clerics, the effective police, don’t even understand why rebels keep animals as pets.
In our present condition, the drug isn’t needed here. People are rapidly becoming unfeeling blocks of ice, and soon, the terrorists will be redundant, wiped out by their own stupidity: converting mankind into numb animals incapable of feeling emotions which even animals can.
On a side note, animals evolve each and everyday, and it seems that the last dolphin wasn’t trying to communicate with scientists- it was actually laughing at humanity.


The Scribblings of a fucked mind

I'd often told people that I like to write. And the predictable question that follows is: what do you write?
I write fantasy. Why? Because I'm fed up with the shitfucked world. It's a pity seeing just how bad it's gotten.
My characters, they don't start off small like so many dark fantasy novels from so many authors- Lukyanenko, Jordan, Heinlein, le Guin, Erikson, and so on... while I appreciate their works, they have all tried to depict how their characters save the world through acts of unspeakable goodness.
Maa chudaye. My main characters start in places of power, stay there throughout the course of the story. They are utter and complete motherfuckers, and as such first-class fellows.
They are as far from good as they can get, and as far from mortality and morality as any psycho. They include: The Lord of Evil, or the Shadow Incarnate.
My favourites, Goldern aka Sharn Black, a sandrazor (a shapeshifter with the power to control air) who manages to increase his powers tremendously,
Jurai Qaan, a Wyrdmage (One who's forsaken the use of traditional magical energy and psionics to use the power of ancient wyrds).
Three of them, my personal favourites.
All three of them boast incredible power and an incredible need for entertainment. So they look to drink, fuck, smoke and snort the hell out of life. Occasionally doing some quest for the heck of it.
All three of them have cast aside the rules and regulations of society, living for themselves, fighting for entertainment in a world that, much in the style of Equilibrium, focuses on mindless tasks.
They live they way I would have dreamed of. In a way it's a release.

These three along with a multitude of idiots to populate the worlds I created. Maybe one of these days I'll put a chapter up on my other blog, thatoldtome.blogspot.


Oh, the miner, sixty-niner...

So yeah I decided to tailgate a bus. I don’t tailgate every bus, mind you, but this one attracted my interest, you’ll understand why. Perhaps you’ve seen it before, and paid it no more heed than a passing bus. But not me; I pay attention to details, and find meaning in the least of things.

 It gave me some food for thought; is my mind truly so focused on just one thing, and will it remain for so for the rest of my life? Will I keep seeing omens everywhere, my brain seeking out double meanings to words and 36 talkings? Am I to spend the rest of my years, or whatever’s left of them, in the pursuit of one single thing?

A noble goal to be certain, be so focused and determined. And on the wrong thing entirely…. but that’s just me.

I thought I’d share it. I guess I had my fun, you can have yours.

Good Shit = Bad Juju

To all y'all got good shit;
Excuse me while I throw a fit.
What's good in shit, there ain't one bit.
I'll tell ya why, come have a sit.

Any shit is bad, bad as bloody hell.
It's bad juju, and that ya can't sell.
It's what from an ass crack, fell.
Lord, save me, ring the fuckin' bell.

Fuck me and dope me; but lordy, spare me
From those shit-hitters, they're all around.
Why can't they open their eyes and fucking see
That shit ain't good, it stinks on the ground.

Lord, lord, deliver thy sheep
Let them on their cells page and beep
Let them every obscenity heap
But don't let them any kinda shit keep.

Why good shit? What started this revolution?
It's worse than "fuck", that's bloody absolution.
But I fear, 'tween all youth's confusion
Elders followed, lost in shit's infusion.

"Good shit," goes the word, without breaking a leg.
Good Lord, torture me, fuck me, dope me, I beg
But keep me from good shit, and give me a keg
Of good whisky, which is better any day,
I'll keep my smokes, my drinks and many a lay;
But from good shit, keep me away.
That's all, lord, that's what I pray.



"I so perfect I don't believe in narcissism."

"You want to know who one the lottery? It's the government after it takes its tax bite."

"Capitalism means you can sell shit to any motherfucker off the street and keep the profits to yourself."

"Communism: sell the shit until the government sells it for you."

"Fascism: We'll kill you if you sell shit."

"The rich man wants to be richer, the poor man wants to be rich. The guy who can sing, when he ain't got a thing, he's the king.... of the whole wide world."

"If at first you don't succeed, then destroy all evidence that you tried."

"Existentialism means nobody can fuck for you."

"I owe a lot to my parents. Especially my mother and father."

"I said NO to drugs, but they didn't listen."

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former."

"Many wise words are spoken in jest, but they don’t compare with the number of stupid words spoken in earnest."

"There is a pleasure in madness, which none but madmen know."

"Life is shit. And we have all the time in the world to clean it up."



A commodity called innocence is all too rare these days, and scoffed at like the dickens. It's a true pity. We've all forgotten what it was like, when all we had was an overwhelming curiousity toward the world. We gave it up when we decided to "grow up". We sampled pleasures and troubles, got into scrapes, and generally fucked the hell out of life, and we're not even 30. It's a pity.
I dug this up from its notepad version. After some reformatting, I saw the date on the damn thing; 2000. When I was in the fifth class. My mom had helped me to type it out. I found it hidden among old files on the HDD, and after reading it, I fell into the blackest depression I'd ever known. The greatest fall hardest; it's truth.
I thought I'd come across a lot of examples of life's depressions. But this was worse. I felt like my fifth-class self had dug himself out of whatever grave I'd buried him in, like Jason Vorhees, and come back, not to murder, but to laugh and scorn.
This was what I found.

Things I want to do
1 Drive a roadroller
2 Go to Kerala
3 Visit a circus
4 Drive a truck
5 Become a pilot
6 Catch fish
7 Have my own dog
8 Have a cat
9 Go to Wadali
10 Drive a tractor
11 Drive a bulldozer
12 See a tank
13 Get sick so I can stay home
14 Play longer
15 Write a book
16 Go to a library
17 Walk to school
18 Get a telescope
19 Get a binoculars
20 Get a gold ring
21 Get an ink pen
22 Read books all day
22 Have my own library
23 Go to Nagpur
24 Go to a circus
25 Meet a joker
26 Go to a church
27 Go to a mosque
28 Go to China
29 Go to a party with everyone in my family
30 Get a bigger bed
31 Get a sword
32 Ride a horse
33 Walk to Chikhaldara
34 Catch a train on my own
35 Go to New Zealand
36 Go to Italy and the Church
38 Go to Sicily
39 Go to Easter Island
40 Change my table
41 Get an architect set
42 Get a paintboard
43 Get a paintbrush
44 Paint
45 Paint a wall
46 Walk on my hands
47 Go to the moon

Like I said, innocence. Look back, people. Look back and remember. And when you remember, wonder; would your past self laugh their asses off?