Thursday, December 20, 2007

Think about this....

Well I thought of myself as a small time poet in my own right until I read this.
And to all of you people who think themselves of as a Big Kahunas of the blogging world, think again.

Its taken from another blog - Alice in Gingerland
Title - Who am I this time ?

P.S - Thank god for the Internet

Am I the one who has loved
With the passion of a raging fire
Or am I the one who said ‘I love you’
And in same breath called myself a liar

Am I the one who has written
Glorious lyrics that a few have ever seen
Or am I the one who fit the description of
‘The worst poet’ that most think, has ever been

Am I the one who has laughed in the sun
And felt that ecstasy that runs so rare
Or am I the one who flitted for months
Among foggy clouds of my own despair

Am I the wanderer that I claim to be,
The traveler of all the world’s market squares
Or am I the one who enjoys the solitude
Of lying buried in my own library’s lair

Am I the one who loved them all
And am I the one, her soul who shared
Or am I the one who fought her own battles
And along the way never really cared

Am I the one who worked for a cause
Am I the one who walked with a dream
Or am I the one who drifted in time
Belonged to no man, no woman and no realm

And then sometimes I stop the watch
And I lazily compose such a rhyme
Knowing I will not answer the question, I still ask,
Who am I this time?

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

I wonder




I wonder..
That why a flower looks so pretty when its removed from its shoot
While the shoot looks so barren and incomplete
But the shoot will grow more flowers while the destiny of the flower is to wither and die.

I wonder...
About Cigarettes
You want to kick it.
Everyday you stay away from it your urge increases for it day by day.
At a point you can't control it any longer, you give in.
You smoke, take long drags. The warm smoke in your lungs feels so good. Your head clears. You realize how good it felt to smoke. wondering from where this genius idea of quitting ever came into your head.
You smoke the entire thing. Feeling so good and smiling happily. But after the cigarette you realize you are supposed to quit. It is obviously is bad for you in the long run, thats why you wanted to kick it in first place. But you just smoked. You are back to square one. Its like you were smoking till now. So quitting becomes all the more hard.
What do you do ??

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Be a poet




Find the perfect lover. Now lose him/her. Get sickly, pale and wan. Go where the weather induces atmospheric mourning. Bitter cold is good. But autumn , when everything is going brown, brittle and dying, is even better. Throw together a few sentences, combining nostalgic reminiscence with adjectives and cultural references for suffering and torture: tangled sheets, fevered brow, trembling brow,heavy heart, churning stomach, waterboarding. Noe hie thyself to a publisher and call thyself Keats.

John Keats ( 31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821) by the way was one of the principal poets of the English Romantic movement. During his short life, his work received constant critical attacks from the periodicals of the day, but his posthumous influence on poets has been immense. Elaborate word choice and sensual imagery characterize Keats's poetry, including a series of odes that were his masterpieces and which remain among the most popular poems in English literature.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

What lies beneath ?




“Ordinarily people would consider me disturbed, a little different from the usual viewpoint of normal human life.... But how ordinary are people anyways? "
- Xerxes

In American Beauty when asked about his wife Kevin spacey replies he doesn't know or cares and goes on to say “Our marriage is for show, a commercial for how normal we are “ . And these commercials are everywhere, even though advertisements shout out from billboards, TV screens, magazines for stuff, Phones, Watches, Laptops, Clothes - ' Express your individuality, Unbelong, Stand out from the crowd' but still everybody wants to do just the opposite.

Everybody wants to be like everybody else. Everybody wants to show how normal they are, and just how perfect there life is. When seen from above everything looks placid, beautiful, like neatly packed gifts. But sometimes some things, a scandal, a revelation, a public fight, or sometimes a lot of alcohol blows off the lid and exposes the rot within. For me it is shocking, though my shock decreasing every time I see this. It’s like a kid who picks a nice looking rock, only to throw it away startled and disgusted when he sees the worms crawling beneath.

It happens to me when I see people who can't stop praising their spouses, always keep shouting how much they love each other only to find they can't stand each other. It happens when seemingly normal people commit suicide, and no one has a clue what was wrong. It happens when the people whom I look up to confess how much they hate being themselves. It happens when people who are examples of having fun, whom everybody is jealous of blurt out that this is all show and they are sorry for whatever they did or are doing. It happens when our Class bully, whom I saw my whole life dominating people around him saying while he was drunk that he feels a Inferiority complex because of his office colleagues. Or when I see beautiful girls for whom guys are dying even to get trampled by found crying when drunk that nobody cares for them, when they get treated by guys like cheap whores. Girls who come and go only in cars, sip outrageously expensive cocktails, dazzle 'Ordinary' people like me their lifestyles only to get beaten up by their Husbands/Boyfriends. Or like when I find a professor teaching in college who’s known to have murdered his wife, and tried to murder his daughter too, the little girl being the sole eye witness who still carries a mark on her neck because of the knife slash.

And whenever I see a part of it, my view of the world changes forever, for I can never unlearn whatever I have learned.

So why this? I think everyone knows that there are no Normal people, then why they consider anyone not within the permissible limits of their normalcy as Abnormal?

So then everyone who appears different is instantly brandished as perpetrators of something immoral or worse illegal. Of something for which they should be corrected for (Even Marilyn Manson agrees with me on this). I personally know an example where my neighbors said that they would complain the police that we move around in the night too much; they said they’ll say we are terrorists. Of course they knew we weren’t and the Police will know so too but I knew that wouldn’t stop the police from bothering us. And all that just because we were not Normal, not that we harmed, disturbed or spooked anyone, but we didn’t sleep at the time of Ordinary people.

Although this gives me an advantage, I’ll never be overtly jealous of the so called successful people. Because who knows what lies beneath. But then in this world where Role models are supposed to be very important, where MBA colleges make a very big deal about mentoring I think I’ll never have one. I think now I can never look up to anyone with total sincerity. Sometimes I wonder if ignorance is actually bliss. Because now I have no trust on anyone or anything, it’s like a disease or maybe I think it’s a curse.

No wonder kids are the happiest beings on the planet, because they have not seen the filth, they have this wonderful gift of Innocence, a gift which will be soon taken away from them. Now I know what Holden Caulfield would have felt when he wanted to remove the ‘Fuck you’ from his sister’s school in ‘Catcher in the rye‘(But unlike him I hope I won’t have to recount my story from a mental ward).

But maybe most people need this cover, this wrapping around them so as to not let the people see what’s wrapped up. It’s like an ice cream parlor where every flavor should be Vanilla; a strawberry needs to be condemned. And a Black Currant? ... Burn it at the stake. So whenever someone colors his hair green, someone wears torn jeans or whenever some girl gets her fifth piercing some kind of shit has to hit the fan.

But they don’t mind everybody sweeping their dirt under the carpet. When they project an image of cream and honey while it’s all shit underneath. They can’t make everybody wear rose colored glasses (not since the romantics are dead) so they have rose colored glass cases around their lives.

So is there a cure? For them perhaps no. But for me? As my answer I’ll quote Kevin spacey from American beauty again for this always gives me hope

“I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me, but it’s hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst. And then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it and then its flow through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life. You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure. But don’t worry, you will someday”

Oh! All this melancholy makes me long for a drink, though I can’t have one, not right now, but that shouldn’t stop you from getting one. Cheers!!! (Just be careful to stay within sobriety so as to not to say something which will peel the wrapping around our world a little more)

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Soliloquy




My hands are heavy, my head is light
Standing here in my hostel’s room
Once reminiscent of the good times, today it exudes gloom
Memories stir, I let out a sigh.
Even I’m so lonesome I could die
It’s so painful that it even makes me rhyme
How does one pack up a life time.


How does one pack up a life time
Old things, few clothes and some stuff that’s not even worth a dime
My helmet my bike, the first ride to college
Weird t-shirt faded jeans and the first date worth remembering
Things too junk to use, too precious to throw
I see an ashtray, few openers and a corkscrew
My glasses, my books some almost as good as new
Shoes I never used, papers I’ll never use again
And cards, gifts and a few cute things from a old sweet heart of mine
Oh please tell me how does pack up a life time.


I'm sure all these THINGS can be packed
But its more than that I’m leaving behind
The Joys, the celebrations, the sorrows, and lamentations
The anger, the hunger, the disgust and too high expectations
The awe, the exhilarations, the comfort and the high laughter
Loving each day, a lot I have seen in this 4 long years
I think I have lived a whole life; maybe enjoying this much was a crime
So it’s not my inherent laziness that stops me
But because these are more than things, it’s a lifetime.


My old clock, that always told me I'm late
My old chair, my clothes rested on it more than me
My old mirror, which always reminded of my weird hair style
My old guitar, can't remember when I last played it but…..
Then I see my t-shirt that says "Just another f*#%ked up day in paradise"
I had my share of fucked up days, alright
And of all fucked up days, today deserves to be the king
But my time here was blissful, and this place a true Paradise
From heaven oh what an anticlimactic demise.
I look around, if I’m forgetting something
Some posters are still on the wall
But then I look at the cassettes

Weird collection one might say

Aerosmith, Dido, Metallica even Boyzone & Slayer
I even look at my obsolete cassette player
These all I think I’ll leave behind
But to a pair less ear ring I think I will be more kind
And at this point I look at the question which for a long time my mind bore
What did I really bring and what am I taking back from this city
Which gave me everything I asked and then some more.


Last 4 years seem to be a blur
Days turning into nights, with nights turning into early morns
With pre exam parties sliding in exams and they barely able to hold up against post exam ones
From intoxication to hangovers and those into getting drunk again
After a happy, a bitter and after each bitter a happy moment comes
But these last few days have really been a fight
Bearing through one day so that you can see the next one's light
Mornings make me want to throw up, days are a drudge
Nights are for drinking, because even after extreme boredom sleep and I hold a grudge
Maybe that’s why I’m leaving for good
Because I can no longer Pantomime
But how does one pack up a lifetime.

One of my friend cries on my last night here, because a friend is leaving
Another cries too, but maybe its just company that he is craving
One grabs me “I won't let you go tomorrow" he's saying
And a message with a sad face tells it’s too bad that I’m leaving
Maybe it’s not them; maybe it’s just the wine
I wonder why the tears have dried in these eyes of mine
And yet the one person I expect didn't even have time for a Good Bye
Standing on her Door step I pondered if I let something beautiful die
But I think I’ve made peace with the vicissitudes, I’m fine
Just tell me how does one pack up a lifetime???

Friday, August 24, 2007

Butterfly effect




"The flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil may set off a tornado in Texas "

- Chaos theory


In mathematics and physics, chaos theory describes the behavior of certain nonlinear dynamical systems that under specific conditions exhibit dynamics that are sensitive to initial conditions (popularly referred to as the butterfly effect). As a result of this sensitivity, the behavior of chaotic systems appears to be random, because of an exponential growth of errors in the initial conditions. This happens even though these systems are deterministic in the sense that their future dynamics are well defined by their initial conditions, and there are no random elements involved. This behavior is known as deterministic chaos, or simply chaos.

Well this to most is an obscure physics theory , but being the lover of physics i think this has more significance in our day to day life...

I don't believe in fate or anything like that , i believe that our life is also totally deterministic, but it like any other small particle in this huge cyclotron called The World is so sensitive to initial conditions that the end result is never what we hoped for.

So all our life we are plagued with the thoughts of " if i had......" , "if only i had not...." and the likes , its true that our life would have not been the same if we would or would not have done that thing , but better or worse no one can tell... And this is the thing what most people miss out....

So i think try to correct your mistakes but not cry over them.... Not only is that futile but also sometimes not necessary ....

Because i think there is only one way to live a life , you can be a pessimist or optimist but never a realist. You can hate someone or love someone but can never ignore , you can be a teetotaller or not it , there's nothing as a social or moderate smoker or drinker because someday some moment will push you over the edge. You can only be introvert or extrovert by nature . YOu can ve cunning or meek. You cannot just clap your hands and become someone else entirely. The choices you make you what you are , and what you are makes your choices. And what will happen to you after those choices ?? Well your guess is as good as anybodies.

So we keep making our choices , and this cyclotron applies its forces n us and so the end result is chaos but as in Physics' terms " Deterministic Chaos"

You cannot plan what happens in this life . So take each day as it comes , and make the best decision you can on that time . Leave the particle path to the MRI scanners. As a one wise old man said "In the long run we'll all be dead "

Among Max Payne's true verbal gold this one is right up there -

" There are no choices. Nothing but a straight line. The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask "Why me?" and "What if?". When you look back and see the branches, like a pruned bonsai tree, or forked lightning. If you had done something differently, it wouldn't be you, it would be someone else looking back, asking a different set of questions. "


Friday, July 13, 2007

EnJOY


"They might crib about measly pocket money, salaries or not being able to buy the latest car, but still, it appears that Indian youth are the happiest in the world according to a recent survey. A music channel found out that nearly 60 per cent of Indian youth in the age group of 16 to 34 years are both religious and happy and scored high up on the joy scale. So what's it that makes the youth happy?"

Well this was MTV. I think young Indians have taken their slogan ENJOY most seriously. But then makes us happy ?? I don't know for sure but here goes my list.

Well it seems like Money can't buy you happiness after all...

So what is joy ??

Joy is ...

An unexpected call in the middle of the night from an old friend.

Seeing your Dad so proud of you that he is nearly in tears.

When your Mom sits near you to serve you food.

It is driving around alone in the rain with roads newly wet with rain.

Its friends bursting in your room to tell you that you have passed your most dreaded subject

Its watching yours and your friend's old drunk videos.

Dozing off in the lap of your loved one while talking to him/her.

Taking a bus trip to some obscure place with your friends while singing all the Govinda movie's songs along the way.

Its watching a C grade movie or a Ramsay brothers horror flick while sarcastically admiring everything.

Getting to know that a cute girl/guy has a crush on you.

Its drinking whiskey on the roof of your building in old and mismatched glasses.

Watching early morning rain while snuggled in a blanket with him/her.

Suddenly your favorite song on the radio while sitting alone in an evening.


But then money can buy you a Porsche 911 carrera , pure bliss !!!