Akshay Mali
173 CM, 55 KG
7th Jan 1999, 5:35pm, Thursday ()
Brain Blind
कला हेच जीवन
Kamlakar cha lingam + Swati chi yoni
Born Art
Straight outta drainage
Eye is the black hole
पहिली नापास
4 piercings
One for stand
One for logo
Ears by birth
Loved the coin
Love is a way to connect yourself better
रितु 🌱 तन्वी 🪴 अदिति 🌹 दीप्ति 🥀
Last part of every cycle,
They become' 'you' 'become them
It is the game of single U.
Coin flips
⚓️ took the place.
camera is a gun
speaker is to fun
street is gallery
भीक is salary.
Know the Death
Drinking every water is way to digest Poison
Blue is to escape the matter.
Nuclear is compressed reality.
Trees were rude before
and people were nude
Walk on thread.
future locks
past fucks
present walks
👣
Language begins here
Q is the letter who needs only U
X is a good letter
ॐ नमः क्षय !
Praying Decay = praying self
barbad
Nash
चोट
U.
ॐ नमः क्षय !
?Touches people not by heart but by art.
but ARt = heart
⚓️ Left with Laura from Goa
A 🔷 found at the beach.
The red spiral guided me with her eyes—until she vanished
While missing her became cold blooded superconductor
Ready to take it all again in vessel
joy, sorrow, love, curses, death, birth, wisdom.
She left in silence, yet lingers still.
The mauni shed its colors. To move forward, I had to break free.
Went barefoot for lives were lost in the moonless night
A bus driver a says—Aadesh.
The tides led me to Aarel.
Dhanda chalu
भीकार्याने केली पहली भवानी
Between performance and life, the line blurred.
Four days of wandering, performing with Sandip Nath Baba, a fakir, a Malwala saint.
After the performance,
I saw the jewel in the vessel—
the message was clear.
Ganga Putra.
One with the jewel: Manikarnika.
The path led to Varanasi,
where Laura waited to say goodbye,
holding the anchor.
Now, my boat was free to sail.
Jacky arrived, helped me prepare.
Tarquinius stepped in,
a new jewel—Rudraksh—resting on my chin.
I entered the war alone. At the peak
A warrior, Sani, met this Ganga Putra.
Performance Battle was on, she followed me from the narrow lanes to the ghat
.. As I stood bare, a Naga struck my right arm with a stick and asked, “Whose disciple are you?”
I met his gaze and replied, “Strike me again. I belong to no one.”
Sani and me Together, we touched death at Manikarnika
Sani’s tears fell, weaving life back into me.
We made our way to the pink boat,
a journey beyond death, into heaven itself.
Night arrived—it was time to part.
We sat on Raja Ghat, my favorite place.
I placed my jewel in her hand—
Rudraksh. Rudra (Shiva), Aksh (tears).
Without hesitation,
Sani unpinned her yin-yang hair clip,
placed it in my palm.
Balance.
An unspoken farewell.