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I crave touch... I'm not asking for much I stopped praying years ago Hands running on my body, in slow mo There's no hand here though I am marred, you know Scared, wanting for waves to carry me, as they flow.. But I won't do so I want it... but it's me who needs to row I want your hands on me Smoothing my soul, crease free And that soft peck of glee That's just what I ask for, trust me But that hold frights me, you see So I'm begging, to be clutched by thee Smothered, not even gasping to flee I'm yours... do me Staring me, what do you see? #poem #review

On the canvas of universe, she is too small to be seen On the surface of earth, she is too extreme to fit She was born not to belong Not to a nation Not to a home And not among her species Rootless, her mind flys Drowning she is, from dawn till dusk Unsatisfying curiosity never leaves her Paralyzed she is, by the weight of her unravelling thoughts By the eyes on her By the world itself She was born not to belong Not to a society Not to a soul Not to life itself Rootless she is Filled with pain she is Belonged she isn't, any where any land any water any planet She longs to be out Out of this world Out of this universe Perhaps from her very beginning she got off on the wrong stop Her words, misjudged Her thoughts, misunderstood Her identity, unbeknownst - N #review#poem

Me, at every moment left tormented of drowsy moonlight. Exposes me to the scenarios unbearable to me. Precisely the flinging knives in air, chasing me all through. Mistaken as friendly whisperers until they pierce me red. To my associates, it's blood oozing from my hub. They always ignorant of there is left mere a void. Nothing left over now to be shed, as my blood and tears Have enhanced themselves to my illegally throbbing heart. Yes an illegal throbbing as we are often told. No one has the whole day left for an emotional bloodbath. The bloodbath that can certainly wash down our spangle. And lay it down for people to get it trampled under their feet. No, not that spangle to what i sometimes call an illusion. As you contend the crowd at the cost of your peace. By what doesn't belong to you but seems to be belonging So, it seems baseless sobbing over our own dead souls. As they become invisible, admirers mourning their carton. What is actually a signal of one's availability and eventually immortality. Wait! Does immortality turn them engaged with our own trade? Maybe, that's why they are deaf towards our lament. Yes, we are left wailing for what is even unknown to us! We often ignorant of the dead arranging things for us. Hahah! Things arranged for us in turn arranged by us. On the demand of nobody but merely to proceed with the flow. They flow, eventually leading us to a glossy dayspring. There everything being pretty visible to the perceptive and conscious. Now the whisperers can no more deceive me, but Alas! My wounds getting unveiled of darkness out to the world. The world of 7 billion or more, crowds chuckling at me! Their clear white enamels visible, inside a dark red clot. Not always but sometimes i am fully distressed with my being. As i am deceived of heaven leaving inside my veins a hefty mass. Of the suffering what aren't mine but surely of my being. Sufferings gradually sublimated, turning the air painful manifolds. Please! Let me rest peacefully, shutting my valves tight. Storing away the scent of sufferings in my blood all night. It is just scandalous for the modish to be a stock of misery. The era of robots ought to pull us out from cambrian infancy. Haider Ali Mir... #poem#review.

" Beauty " Never trust a mirror, For it always lies, It makes you believe, All your worth is being seen from outside #review#poem

​​#review#film#serial Hozirgina Breaking Badni 4-sezonini tugatdim va Walter Whitening donoligiga qoyil qoldim. Serial burilish nuqtalariga juda boyligini oldinroq ham sezgan edim lekin toʻrtinchi sezon mani hayratga soldi. Umuman olganda faqat Walter Whiteni bosh qahramon degim kelmayapti. Toʻgʻri u asosiy qahramon lekin qolganlardan juda katta farq bilan ajralib turmaydi. Ya’ni aytmoqchimanki, har bitta obraz oʻzi alohida bir shaxs. Ularning ham hayotdagi maqsadi, his tuygʻulari, oʻziga xos jihatlari bosh qahramonnikidan kam emas. Masalan Jesse yoki Gustavo, hatto katta salamanka boʻlsin. Har birining hayotidan, xarakteridan xulosa qilish mumkin. Birinchi navbatta Gustavo haqida yozsam. Uning hayot yoʻli alohida ahamiyatga ega hikoya. Manashu hayot yoʻli uning xarakterini shakllantirgan. Diplomatik qobiliyati, kerakli soʻzni oʻrinli vaqtda va oʻrinli joyda ishlatishi uning haqiqiy daho ekanligini koʻrsatgan. Gustavoning obrazida haqiqiy sigma gavdalangan. Qoʻyilgan maqsaddan ogʻishmasdan faqat va faqat olgʻa intilish. Dushmanlaridan bittama-bitta oʻch olish va asosiy dushmanini azoblanishiga qoʻyib berish. Eng kuchli qiynoq — oilasini birin ketin oʻldirilayotganini koʻrishga majburlash. Xuddi shuningdek katta Salamanka ham oʻziga nisbatan qilingan yovuzliklar uchun, oilasi uchun oʻz hayoti bilan boʻlsada qasos olgan. Bu uning hech narsadan qaytmay, hatto nogiron boʻlsa ham maqsadi sari intilishini koʻrsatib bergan. Jessega keladigan boʻlsak u serial boshida mani judayam zeriktirgan edi. Tabiati oʻta qiziqqon boʻlgani uchun har bir ishga mas’uliyatsiz yondashardi. Walterni faqat orqaga tortardi. Yengil yelpi hayotga oʻrgangan, ishonuvchan bolakay edi. Toʻgʻri uning ham hayoti qiyinchiliklarga toʻla, ammo kayfu safoga berilib yashardi Ammo uning vijdoni, adolat uchun kurashishi insoniylikning yuksak namunasini ham ifoda etadi. Agar boshqa tarafdan qaraydigan boʻlsak, u ham, boshqalar ham narkotik savdosi bilan shugʻullanishyapti. Insonlarni zaxarlanishida ularning hissasi katta. Bir qaraganda ularni yomon, zararkunanda deb atash oson. Ammo hayot faqat oq va qoradan iborat emasligi filmning asosiy gʻoyasi boʻlishi ham mumkin. Hozircha shunday xulosadaman. W. White. Serial boshida oddiy maktab oʻqituvchisi narkotik pishirish bilan shugʻullanishni boshlagani aqlga ham sigʻmayotgandi. Biroz kulguli ham tuyulgan edi. Lekin inson bir kun kelib baribir oʻlib ketishini anglaganda va bu oʻlim qisqa muddatda uning oldiga kelishini bilganda, hayotda nimagadir erishgisi, oʻzidan nimanidir qoldirgisi kelar ekan. Walterning ham hayotidagi burilish nuqtasi rakka chalingandan keyin yuz berdi. U oʻz sohasini sevgani va uni hurmat qilgani tufayli bir qancha yutuqlarga erishdi. Lekin bu hayotini jiddiy xavf ostiga qoʻyish bilan amalga oshdi. U kasallikka chalingach, oʻlimidan soʻng oilasi qiynalmasligi uchun borsa kelmas yoʻlga tushdi. Ammo uning aql zakovati, bilimi va oilasiga boʻlgan muhabbati barcha qiyinchiliklarni yengishiga yordam berdi. Mujik odam, hayotini xavf ostiga qoʻyib boʻlsada oilasini birinchi oʻringa qoʻyishi, uni boqishi va gʻamxoʻrlik qilishi kerakligini koʻrsatib qoʻydi. Filmda chigalliklar, burilish nuqtalari shunchalar koʻpki anglaganingizda es-hushingizni yoʻqotib qoʻyasiz. Oʻrningizdan turib, nahotki deya dod voy solasiz. Eng yomoni kim yaxshi-yu kim yomon, toʻgʻrirogʻi kimni oqlash keragu, kimni ayblash kerakligini bilmay qolasiz. Ayblagan insoningizni ham oqlash uchun sabablar yetarli boʻlganda odil qaror chiqarish siz uchun qiyin kechadi. Hozircha shular. 5-sezonni tugatib “El Camino”ni, soʻng Better Call Saulni koʻrgach yana bitta qisqacha review yozaman degan umiddaman. Serialni boshlashni va oxirigacha tugatib qoʻyishni tavsiya qilaman. Barchangizga yoqimli tomosha tilayman doʻstlar! Hurmat bilan @economist_martin

​​#review#serial#movie#tavsiya 📽️Слово Пацана 2023 (Yigit Soʻzi) Hammasi oddiy, jamiyatda yashamoqchimi boʻlsang yoki toʻla yo undirob ol. SSSR davrida rejim kuchsizlanib, kommunistik gʻoyalar oʻzini oqlamagani sezilib qolgach qonun zaiflasha boshladi. Davlat adolatni ta’minlay olmagach insonlar oʻzini oʻzi himoya qilishga oʻtdi. Bundan kelib chiqib sizda savol tugʻilishi mumkin, nega davlat kuchsizlangach odamlar oʻzini oʻzi himoya qilishi kerak? Nega va kimdan himoyalanish kerak? Rostan ham, davlat boʻlmasa nima qilibdi, insonlar tinch totuv yashay olmaydilarmi? Oʻrta asrlarda Angliyada anarxiya, qiyinchilik hamda ocharchilik davrida yashagan Tomas Gobbs oʻziga ushbu savollarni beradi va oʻzining “Leviafan” nomli asarida shunday mazmunda yozadi: “odamlar ijtimoiylashib oʻzaro doʻstona hayot kechirishining boisi, har bir inson bir biriga boʻri, ya’ni insonlar oʻzaro bir biriga xavf tugʻdiruvchi mavjudotdirlar. Shuning uchun ham, bugungi kunga kelib insonlar jamiyat boʻlib, kelishib, ijtimoiylashib yashamoqdalar”. Monteskye ham shunga oʻxshash ammo biroz teskari boʻlgan fikrni ilgari surgan. Unga koʻra insonlarning ijtimoiy hayot kechirishi oʻzaro xavf sezgani tufayli, ya’ni oʻzini himoya qilish maqsadida yuzaga keladi. “Yigit soʻzi” serialida ham yigitlar tirik qolish va kuchli boʻlish uchun “пацан” boʻlishga harakat qiladi. Kuchli va kuchsizlarning iyerarxiyadagi oʻrni xuddi chanagalzor qonuniyatlari kabi uning kuchiga (kuchlilar asosan yoshi katta yigitlar boʻladi) qarab belgilanadi. Agar kuchsiz boʻlsa “чушпан” boʻlib qoladi va “пацан”ga “soliq” toʻlashga majbur boʻladi. Anarxiya keng ildiz otgan jamiyatlarda doim shunday boʻlgan. Bunday ogʻir hayotni yaxshilash maqsadida ham davlat degan tashkilot oʻylab topilgan. Tomas Gobbsning gʻoyalari ham anarxiyaga qarshi tuzilgan edi. Serialni tomosha qilishni tavsiya qilaman. Oʻylaymanki, tomosha qilib boʻlgach yanada kengroq xulosalarga ega boʻlasiz. Serialga oid postlar: Bored Panda 1,Bored Panda 2 @economist_martin

If something ends one day, it doesn't mean it's lost forever. You were my best poetry ever written. You are still my best poetry today. You are my reason to write from now till my breath lasts. Doesn't matters I'm no one to you. You're still the only one to me. I don't need a witness for my love. Reality is within my eyes away from the world. - Irendu Bhardwaj Ⓒ #review#poem#poetry

SWEET MORNING HUSH Out of the suffocating crowd, When I'm all alone at last. I put off everything I wore for the world, My clothes and my mask. I look at the mirror on my bathroom wall, I find myself all alone, Lying with my mind at ease, On the cold bathroom floor. I look at my reflection painted on the mirror, Utterly beautiful yet so painful. My eyes filled with pouring grace, That's healing yet baneful. I run my fingers through my short hair, And then to my high held neck. I look at the eternal womanly beauty, Residing on my flesh. I looked at the stars like marks on my back, My own beautiful constellation. You might have not seen them, Actually, they don't like much invasion. My sight melts down to my legs, Long, symmetric and freshly shaved. Yet some wounds on them appear so clear, Like memories peeking out that earlier encaved. And as I caress my legs my focus, Suddenly shifts on my left arm, That have beautiful parallel lines engraved, Possessing an unignorable charm. And I sit there in complete silence, Hearing the voices inside my head, Admiring the womanly beauty I've got, On both sides of my flesh, The morning light barges in from the little window, Making my pinks and browns of my skin glow, Reminding me I have to put the clothes and masks again. It's morning so it's time to go. #review #mans

Please take my eyes.I can't stop looking at these shattered pieces . The pieces I was left with , when you broke my young heart.On my doorstep I saw you . Red roses , red cheeks . Eyes soothing like the moonlight and smile like warm sunrays . Now you're gone . All I have are pieces . On my couch | saw your lips and your perfect torso.Every edge so perfectly carved , My sight melting down from your neck , fingers craving for touch Now you're - gone . All I have are pieces . I saw you on the right - side of my bed making that puppy face.Pulling me over you when I said i wanna sleep left . Now you're gone . All I have are pieces . These pieces are heart to collect . The more I touch them the more they break . I wish to fix them.Everytime I see them lying all around me.I want to love again . want to fall again.I want to give my heart to someone but nobody needs a heart in pieces . So there's no hope for love now , because the pieces won't get back together . Their sight kills me . So take my eyes. #review #mans

The sunset is so beautiful, From this broken glass pane, The yellows oranges and reds, Staining each other, Like a three passionate lovers, In a love triangle. Me and my glass pane, both broken Sit there in silence. Looking at this beautiful, Yet painful scene. We see the colours loving and giving in. And then, Losing everything. Now they're broken like us. And they're gone. Like we went away. Now there's darkness. Complete darkness. Because the stains of love, Are black. #review #mans

Here I stand on the sea shore, Fearless, Rageous. The tides trying to scare me, With their monstrous waves. They're gigantic, But not more than my courage. They're furious, But not more than my rage. They're blue, But not more than my youth. And I stand there staring at the sea, It stares back at me. Scared, obligated. The waves still come to me, But bow when the come near. The thunderous sound of it, Is like it's crying. Because the storm in my eyes, It bigger than the storm in the sea. #review #mans

"Fake it till you make it", they said. I faked a smile and now it's planted on my face. I look happy. But deep down I'm just lost, still looking for real happiness, still craving for the real smile. (Just few lines from the last page of my diary) #Review #mans