I wanna love my life

2011-09-11T03:12:00.002+05:30

It has been a long time I updated this blog properly. Maybe a year. I remember how diligently I used to write for this blog and proudly used to showcase. So many years with this blog. From small things to big things. Thought to love. Everything.

But now that the person who was the inspiration behind this blog is no more with me, I declare it closed. For her this was. Will be :)

And anyways it is half dead. The other half death is just an obligation

To this blog and her,
I wanna love my life.

I love both of them.

2011-04-28T21:23:00.001+05:30

I tried to capture the sun,
it spilled all the light on me,
and then asked,
son, still you can’t see?

For all who took it

2011-04-11T00:51:00.000+05:30

Today was JEE.

Sitting in a really nice university, when I log in to an e-paper I can see pictures of students getting out of the entrance test centers. Sitting in a really nice university, I realize that I could have been one of them.

Five of my friends rejoined, revived, and re-activated their facebook accounts today after three years. And made me realize that they existed. I talked to them, one was very happy, three were skeptical, the fifth one never replied. Maybe he forgot about my existence during the past three years.

Crammed in rooms, crammed with books, a million lives in our country study for this entrance, and each one of them wants to be there, there in that IIT. Because they know that if they won’t be there, they will be everywhere where everyone is. Call this a disillusion rendered by our country, or our childhood, or our ambition of the highest, or our nation’s failure to provide the highest to everyone, every guy and girl studying for it has the same desire. And only a portion gets selected, or lets call it a percent. That is what makes this entrance special, for it’s a heart break!

But be it two years or three years, each one of these students has done his sums, and preparation and each one of them have done more than I have ever done in my life. Years of their childhood spent in hard work.

It shows how much dedication it takes,

and pain.

Today was JEE

We usually celebrate achievement,

Lets celebrate desire and passion today.

For all the JEEians, who may or maybe not be IITians,

Salute :)

Old beds.

2011-01-22T02:00:00.000+05:30

As the sun finally set, he pushed the curtain to cover the windows. The sunset of the day felt weird to him, one could feel that he didn’t really like it. Barefoot, he stood there touching the wooden rough of his newly acquired cupboard. No, this wood is too new to be loved, he thought. It certainly was, as the cupboard was newly made out of freshly cut wood, and thus devoid of any history or scar.

As the cold stung his bare feet, he moved them towards his new shoes that shone the color white. For a moment, he remembered his mud clad sneakers, and the memory of scrapping out the mud from it using broken branches of the small tree outside his home. He a moment, he smiled at its dirty image in his mind, which he had safely brought from his home.

A yawn struck him with comfort, but his mind wasn’t ready to give up dreaming for the day. Flattening his new brown sheet, he sat on the bed with his feet down. The bed was lower than the bed he had slept all his life on, and gave him no space to sway his legs freely. He realized that he will have to give up on a few too many habits.

The bed was monstrous, but pretty small for a soul to settle in. Its iron boundaries gave him the coldest and lifeless feeling a non living thing could. The room looked white to him in the bright light of the tubes, and he wondered if the yellow tinge of his old room will ever return to his eyes. He decided he disliked such a bright room. He scratched his head, and the yawn came back to revive his conflict between sadness and escape. Stretching his arm, he wrapped his finger around the beer bottle he got for himself. He wanted and had promised himself to gulp it all, once he was settled. He realized he was not. But the water droplets on the surface of the bottle were too sweet, and tempting to resist. And he didn’t want to, resist.

Squeak, squeaked a rat.

His neck turned, and his eyes met a small brown rat that was acting unusually slowly. Maybe, even he was new to the room, or like him, the whole town. He squeaked, again. He was small, his eyes made the observation again. The rat darted off towards his cupboard, and his eyes darted after him. Squeak, it squeaked again. He smiled. He felt nice with a rat around. Both trapped in a place they want to run away from. But both had to be there to learn that they had to be there. Both couldn’t help.

The breeze came, and forced the curtain to fly. Maybe it is right this way, he mused. The intoxication can’t go on for years for sure, nor will the place. He decided to get used to the place, rather than the intoxication.

Like us

2010-12-05T00:04:00.000+05:30

For a someone like none.

It was cold, the breeze came,
you held me, making us,
you held me, without a fuss.

I never asked for,
what you did,
inside your arms,
I gleefully hid.

Today when you leave,
I miss all the leaves,
we broke,
All the words,
we spoke,
All the tears,
we shed,
wiped the eyes,
very red,
All the smiles,
we flashed,
All the water,
we splashed,
All the stones,
we walked,
All the hours,
we clocked,
All the dreams,
we dreamt,
Our long hair,
happily unkempt,
The hands we held,
together,
The hopes we flew on,
a feather,
The days we spent,
the nights that went.
Our friendship
a beauty, and a joy,
and happy as a toy.

Now you leave,
it to dust,
in a pool of tears,
to rust.

You are going away,
as I stand here,
I may or may not cry,
But I surely do care.

It's dark

2010-11-22T19:37:00.002+05:30

Speak, slowly, it’s dark,
candle, fire, a little spark,
a step, walk, you stumble,
leaf, falls, a crumble.

A shadow falls, ov’r the sky,
the day dies, without a cry,
the dog barks, the hen sleeps,
dead leaves, the widow sweeps.

Dawns the dark on the night,
voices sleep whispering bright.
I come n’ sit, on the chair,
watching the floor, barely fair.

The cold came whispering me tales,
of dead birds, n’ silent wails,
of drowning men, n’ fallen kings,
of crying girls, n’ empty swings.

The blinds were dull,
the air was a lull,
The eyes were sleep,
a distant weep.

I clutched, the wood,
I slowly stood,
One hand had the flicker,
the other, the liquor.

The wail had its prey,
it started its say,
“The moon may shine,
tonight won’t be fine,
the candles will die,
as the bats will fly,
your eyes will talk to dust,
behind pages, spies will rust
you are watched by dark,
surrounded by the bark,
the dark will reveal,
the devil’s own deal
but you’ll fail to see,
as you struggle with glee,
thus you are my prey,
as night lives its day.”

Silence, drowned, the place,
extinguished dark, with grace,
stunned, I stared,
into the hollow,
empty, nothing, to follow.

It felt strange, dying,
like a laughter crying,
my soul, wandered, lost,
cold, still, like frost,

I slumped, and fell,
bliss, engulfed with a swell,
the dark showed me life,
accompanied by a heart’s strife.

I may have been a prey,
beyond black, lied my grey,
the dark showed me all,
from big, wrong, right to small.

A smile etched, I blinked,
died, as the cups broke and clinked.

From Amrikka, with love

2010-11-20T20:13:00.004+05:30

And now the U.S. president will address the parliament.

Mr. Vice President, Madame Speaker, Mr. Prime Minister, Members of the Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha, and most of all, the very useful people of India.

I thank you for the great honor of addressing the very opportunistic representatives of more than one billion blind Indians and the world's largest opportunity err I mean democracy. I bring the greetings, friendship, and a few goodies of the world's oldest dominating democracy-the USA, including nearly three million marginalized and patriotic Americans Indians.

I am a man of few words, because I don’t know many.
Over the past two days, me and my wife had the opportunity to witness schoolchildren who are being taught very nicely to work in and for our country, and also the innovators who are fuelling USA’s economic rise more than India’s. At every stop, we have been welcomed with hospitality for which the honible Indians are known for. The dreams in their eyes, to work in the microsofts, and googles of USA. Some will succeed, for others we have our hygienic grocery shops.
I am not the first president, nor the last president to visit this charming country. But yes, I am the president who has brought the highest number of opportunities for the classes, not the masses.
After witnessing the rise of India, I believe that the relationship between USA and India will be one of the defining relationships in this century. From a country of snake charmers, it has become a land of big industrialists and rich farmers. Thus I believe that India is our bandwagon for the further development of our country, and thus I am here to book as many opportunities as I can for my country.
I am here to tell you that India and USA are like brothers, USA being the elder one. As an elder brother, we will take adequate care of you, though sometimes we may snatch your lollipops but that is to ensure that you people ever get pampered.
Maybe we don’t share common values, but yes you people are catching up. I can see your clothes getting shorter by the day. Your people now have an accent which resembles ours. And now the sophistication is pretty clear in your eyes. Only today I was talking to the young entrepreneurs of your country, how individualistic, ambitious, and power hungry they have become. They just need a direction. We will show them the way. We have the executive positions for you, the laboratories are ready for you, the call centers are empty, just for you. We believe that no matter where you live-whether a village in Punjab or the bylanes of Chandni Chowk…an old section of Kolkata or a new high-rise in Bangalore-every person deserves the same chance to have the opportunity to work, earn, and live under us. That is why, this time I have brought more corporate minds than beaurocrats . We really want to stamp our presence in your markets. After all our macdonalds feed your mouths. I am here for strong business, which will be good for me, and good for you my audience. The United States remains-and will continue to remain-one of the most open economies in the world. And we want to open your economy, I hope you understand what I mean.
We are ready to share our nuke secrets with you, but that comes at a cost. You may call it freedom, and have some complains. But trust me it is worth it. And anyways you haven’t a done a good with your freedom till now. And about the permanent seat in UNSC, we are ready to vouch for you. But again, we don’t want you getting mushy with iran then. We don’t want you to pursue foreign policies that may hurt your elder brother, the USA. You may call this curtailment of sovereignty, but then who will put you on the right track if not your elder brother. Talking about the Pakistan problem, and the terrorism that affects your dinner table, I just have a sentence to say. Millions die of diseases in your country due to diseases every year, so why such a hue and cry about a few hundred who die at the hands of your neighbor?
To sum up this short speech, I really want to say that you are our partner in Asia, because China is too strong to be made one. We will always give you opportunities to speak when we want you to. We are committed to see that you don’t develop too much, that it may hurt us in the end. And yes, we take the credit and responsibility of indirectly shortening your population. To speak out a manipulated quotation from your oh so wonderful panchatantra – “That one is mine and the other a stranger is the concept of little minds. But to the large-hearted, the world itself is itself is a bag full of opportunities and booty.”

Thank you, Jai Hind!, and long live the relationship between India and the United States. The relationship of money or morals, is our discretion.

The Morgue

2010-10-08T21:28:00.001+05:30

The door creaked, and the gap opened,
voices boomed, and boots were heard,
the wind was very still, the air was full of death,
you are in the morgue my friend, the world of dead men.

"Welcome, welcome" sang every dead,
"welcome to your cold hot bed",
"now you are us, for all your death",
"you'll survive heartless breathing without a breath."

The dead hummed as they greeted the new,
they swayed slowly as their white cloth flew,
Their eyes were black, and the skin was blue,
the scars were there, and the blood was true.

"We sleep all day, we sleep all night",
"with eternal dark around, we wake at innocent bright",
"we sing for new, we sing for old",
"If not a life, we have a soul to hold".

The cold steel was clear, the cold was gray,
containing the glorious dead who would never pray,
the moon shone the floor, the panes shadowed the blurred,
none saw inside, nor inside saw the world.

"here no one comes, and no one goes"
"some died of life, some died of blows"
"the corridors are blue with our eerie cold"
"no one bought us, nor we got sold"

The body in jewels laid down along the one in rags,
after dying they were brought in the same plastic bags,
the cruel morgue puts dead men together,
every proud, arrogant, humble under the same feather.

Not a living came to visit or see a dead one,
after being silenced they never felt the love nor the sun.
the remains lay in cold, devoid of any belief,
the morgue killed every joy, and buried any grief.

Blind eyed men

2010-10-06T22:02:00.001+05:30

A knife with a blunt edge,
a pen made a blurred sketch.
a leaf that broke away,
a child that went to pray.

I stand here with a cup in hand,
one foot on in mud, one in sand.
I lost my eyes when pecked by a hen,
to live in a world of blind men.

The wind sways under clouds,
the crows call out to their kin,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as blind as a barbed pin.

The dust settles, and it rains,
men work, and their children play.
I stand here with a cup in hand,
on me creep up the dogs stray.

The sound of the water,
and the beautiful fish that swim,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as the day ends with the light dim.

The moon comes up to fly,
the black sky celebrated by the stars,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as small girls dance around with flowers.

The fragrance of something that bakes,
the voice of the wives over the shops,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as the world buys, sells, and robs.

The night ends to draw a new day,
if the previous was black, this is as grey.
The days end and end as leaves brake,
men are too busy to take a notice fake.

I am strong enough to stand here with a cup in hand,
notice the world with feet on hot sand,
I maybe a blind beggar standing with a cup in hand,
but I can still see and celebrate my land.

I am a blind beggar who can pen,
standing in a world of blind men.

The Cruise

2010-09-09T19:30:00.003+05:30

Due to the inert happiness, I was bored and down,
I wore my shoes, and decided to go round the town.

I unbolted and opened the house gate,
feeling the cold metal which my hand ate.

The air was cool, the sky wasn't clear,
The dark clouds pretended to be far, in fact they were near.

I started walking on the road, kicking the lumps of mud,
watched laborers working, mixing water with their blood.

And their children lying naked under the heat,
deprived of food, dying bodies with dirty feet.

Rubbing my shoes on the gravel, I moved ahead,
Met a fruitseller selling apples green n' grapes red.

Fruits he never ate, he offered with grace,
owned trembling hands with a pleading face.

I looked up to see the blue sky,
saw rich men sitting in a vehicle pretty high.

I looked down to see the seller again,
smiled at him, and understood his pain.

Clothing my hands with pockets I went ahead,
to find beggars asking for bread.

Some were one eyed n' others had two to see,
sitting along the walls where men usually pee.

A big structure stood on the other side of the road,
decorated by a great honoured politician hanging on a board.

The public servant who served the ones who could give him back,
and did charity to himself by filling his sack.

A little ahead came restaurants with huge yellow smiles,
preparing food they were to throw at night in piles.

Suddenly I ran, moved my feet to escape,
leaving human bodies behind to stare and gape.

And I reached a tree brilliantly huge and strong,
with yellow leaves, and branches in directions wrong.

I touched the roots, and felt the wind across my face,
putting my hair right across the wrong place.

Opened my arms to call out for rain,
standing in the world so just and sane.

Incidentally the god heard, and rain did start,
I started the run, shirt tugged to the heart.

The big houses went, and the flair passed,
there were servants in them, brilliantly grassed.

The shanties came, flowing with the water,
a thin father running after his daughter.

The canal came, with boat in it,
a sailor directing it with his dying grit.

An old man struggled with the umbrella and the stick,
as the water around him made him pretty sick.

Atlast the home reached my shoes,
as I ended my silent cruise.

I jumped on, on my bed,
laughed, cried, cursed, and said

"Life is so weird, a god with a beard.
He never shows his face, never gives everyone a good place.
He makes one a king, the other one to sing,
but all the others get struggle on which to cling.
A god he with a beard, he never shows face.
If he ever does, I am sure that many will take his case."

Bodhki Ram Buddhu

2010-09-08T18:11:00.001+05:30

Any god who may read,
The post office of heaven,
The sky.

Date : 3rd of august on earth.

Subject : Too light for the intellectual god

Dear God,
I dearly hope that this letter finds you as soon as it reaches the heaven. I hope you won’t be out on an inspection session in hell, because I don’t want any sub ordinates of yours to read this very private letter.

God, I have been surrounded by intellectual people all over. The simple problem I have is that I am finding it very hard to survive among such people. The way they talk, their mannerisms, the way they eat, the way they use their genitals, the way wipe their butts after using the washroom, and the way they show me down, and make me feel like an outcast. I am really miserable god. When my friends in the classroom raise their hands, and answer to the teachers, I feel stupid. Leave the answers, I am unable to understand the questions for starters. These intellectual people talk in hushed tones, and look at me in bewilderment when I shout or stand up on benches or break plastic scales on someone’s head for just a bit of fun. They make my life boring, and the fact that my parents want me to be one of them kills me every night when I go to piss in my garden. My parents want me to comb my hair, wear the tie with a perfect knot, talk in a sophisticated manner, and act sensible, and I don’t even know the meaning of sensible. Those big books with more than a hundred pages fail to hold my interest, until and unless they don’t have monkeys and donkeys illustrated on their pages. I have been flunking all my exams except the drawing one because the drawing teacher declined to give me grades after she saw what I drew. The only solace is when I go to play in the playground. But then, even there the games they play have so many rules. There is this game of a stick and a round ball they play in which there is a boundary of limitation, and so many men standing surrounding the man with the stick, and surprisingly the man with the stick never hits them. I fail to understand their rules god, I prefer kicking stones, and digging holes in the playground, and occasionally I get kicked for it by the other people in the ground. And then in class, most of the people wear these round rimmed things with glasses fitted in them on their eyes. It makes them look ugly, and when I ask them the reason of wearing it, they tell me that it makes them read better, and obviously make them more intellectual. You should listen to their jokes god. You have to think about the joke four times, and then you get it, and then you laugh on it. There was this joke I overheard once in the afternoon, and I started laughing at midnight when I atlast got it, and I was sleeping between my parents, and got a spanking from them for being uncivilized, and unsophisticated. What an unfortunate, and sad a joke, it was for me.
I won’t blame you for not making me intellectual. But I beg you to place me somewhere on earth, where the people aren’t so intellectual. When I see the dumb people of my class, I find peace and solace in them. They are the ones who never answer, have the most sleep, the largest of the yawns, the loudest of the burps, and the farts, and the most fun. Their jokes evoke laughter from within. And they have such innocent smiles. Please put such people along with me in some lonely deserted land, and I promise that we will do good enough deeds to qualify for heaven, and make you proud.

cigars,
Your seven year old kid,
Bodhki Ram Buddhu

Good Night

2010-08-06T04:50:00.001+05:30

go go go go go
run run run
to the shadows under the blanket,
to a life warm,
and a sleep calm.

a sweet an air that will run over you,
and the eyebrows that will move when you dream,
a pretty face smiling with a beam.

the soft eyes won't move anymore,
you will turn red as you sleep,
as black will turn more dark and very deep.

hours will pass over you,
and you will run through it,
because you have to wake up and sit.

go go go go go
run run run
today's work is done,
tomorrow is waiting with a grunt,
and another happiness you will have to hunt.

Morning Mile

2010-08-04T16:02:00.000+05:30

A ray wakes me up out of a dream,
To be treated with milk with cream.

A yawn I possess as I drink,
Shying from the bright I blink.

Slowly I tilt towards the window,
to find a sparrow and a crow.

A smile on my face spreads,
As I sway pulling threads.

I jump across to stand,
To stretch I raise my hand.

Cleaning my teeth I think about last,
Throwing yesterday into my past.

The cold floor feeling my warm feet,
As I brush my teeth clean and neat.

Then the soap so soft washes me nice,
I fill the bucket less than twice.

Out of the tile room I run to dress,
White shirt, blue pants are a bless.

The blue tie with a permanent knot,
The badge I lost and yesterday bought.

The shoes dusty I wear without polishing,
As my mother shouts I softly sing.

And I see to my left to find my strong bag,
With seventeen books I was to drag.

The mirror comes to me for my hair,
Thinking today I won’t emulate the mare.

Smiling and laughing I run away from it,
But father combs my hair after making me sit.

The bread in my mouth and the one in my box,
So much stuff in the mouth turns me red like a fox.

A good child in me turns into a student,
To the school I have to be sent.

Like a leaf without a tree,
My childhood I see

A south Indian

2010-07-30T21:08:00.002+05:30

As i write this, my hand is shivering. Maybe I am just too confused to keep it still. One month in the law university, and sentiments are back after the initial excitement and anxiety of a new place.

I reached here to find a big south indian as my room mate, and a silent south indian at that. I guess he didn't want to trust the north indian sitting in the room. The days started, and I used his laptop to chat with my friends at night. I asked him to talk, and he did with an ease which looked like he always used to talk. The legal studies on, classes on. I, the sleeper in the room was woken by him everyday at seven, after a lot of effort of course(which included messages, calls, and surely names). A four o' clock waker, I found a lot of innocent manliness in him. I did ask him a lot of questions about himself, he gave me a lot of answers about himself, the thing ended there. He used to listen to our vulgar language and used to ask the meaning. Thus our Bala is the man -

(a) who rarely speaks, but when he does beats all in humour and vulgar.
(b) the man, who when asked by seniors to call himself 'babba' (due to his big size), spoke his full name clearly, and trust me no senior was ready to force him to say babba.
(c) the guy who has been most effective in waking me up in the morning till now in my hostel life.
(d) the guy who can blush more than any girl.
(e) the guy who even with a fracture can still walk up and down the staircase ten times a day.
(f) the guy who had the guts to wear what he wanted to without submission.
(g) the student who got us all the internet safeguards, the downloads and proxies available, and saved our computer.
(h) the student with whom the whole pressure of studies amounted to nothing, and the discussions were too sharp to be slow.
(i) the roommate whose acer aspire 1 saved my relationship and destroyed one relationship (aayush's)
(j) the person who is intellectual as high as he is fat. Maybe more.
(k) the mate who cared about me, and vinaya.
(l) the boy who used to stand silently while I used to blabber about my perspective.
(m) the human being I am sure will be something very big in his life. And very means more than very.

I remember thinking this when I just sat in my new room on the first day of hostel life here - After five years, when I will leave this university, I will miss all my friends like hell. Like hell and like hell. But just after 25 days, when this guy is leaving the university, for he cleared the best law university in India, I am having the same feeling. I am shivering.

A friend of 25 days, and I know I always fall in love with south Indians.

To this south indian, from chunni (aayush) and sleepy (me), tata bye bye.

P.S. - We will miss watching you snore at 3 in the night.

Anger, pain, and insanity.

2010-05-17T21:34:00.001+05:30

I can understand I am insane when I start listening to music at full volume, punching my wall to feel the knuckles. I perfectly understand I am insane, and for a considerable amount of time too. I am insane right now too, and if I keep typing for a long long I am sure to break the keyboard. And yes, I am dangerous during this time.

Let me understand my insanity, in my childhood I used to be angry, very angry. When angry, I used to bite my tongue between the two jaws, it gave me pleasure. I wanted to crush my anger source, to split that person into two, taking a knife and blowing his eyes, inserting hot rods in his ears, burning his lips, and then with finesse cutting him into two parts vertically. I used to visualise it all keeping the person in mind. And no, it never gave me any pleasure, it gave me incentive to at least punch him to some bleeding.

The primary reason for my childhood anger was the non-introduction of reason of anything. Like someone asked me to do anything and then he didn’t give me a reason, I felt the same for him as I felt for the person in the paragraph above. Reasons are basically important for me, and as I have seen in this world, either there is reason or there is bloodshed. Thus the same went with me, as a kid I couldn’t blood up anyone but yes I used to fantasize of killing my anger sources, pathetically at that.

Pain grew as a cure to anger. I don’t understand mental torture or pain or any of the shit novels, and people say, I don’t believe in it because I haven’t ever seen it. I believe in physical pain, because I have seen people crying out of pain and punches. And their cries are desires of sympathy, and voice, it gives me intense satisfaction, no doubts.

I grew up to be a lenient person, the anger got buried under layers, and no one really gave me enough reasons to bring it up again. As I entered my 16th year, the pressures came, the reasons came, and the frustration came. It so happened that I started seeing reason in everything I did, but when I was asked to do things opposite of my own reasons it made me angry and when I couldn’t do anything to satisfy my anger it turned into insanity. So much more of punching walls, tearing notebooks, and shouting out to beat my own lungs. And yes, being rude to people intentionally to hurt them and as people tell me, I quite as well succeeded in it.

So, let me draw a graph for my anger, and insanity. In my case, it has a lot to do with pleasure I gain from self inflicted pain, and a lot of encouragement from the fantasies I give birth to. In anger, I see reason, and that reason tells me that I am irrational. On the other hand, people in anger can’t see reason. I see reason, and then I act irrational in the worst possible way. Though I don’t really have a history of violence, to find reason I will always turn insane, and maybe when I have power enough I will inflict the pain on others too.

To end on a sadistic note,

“Let me hurt you before you die yourself.”

A Fairy Tale

2010-03-16T17:14:00.002+05:30

A day started with a bag on my shoulder,

I hurried to school picking the pens from the holder.

I sat on the cycle and kicked the paddle,

with zest like sitting on a horse with a saddle.

The journey began with the ups and downs of slope,

violent velocity and a no falling hope.

The insignificant constructions zoomed by,

I knew them, so unbothered I fly.

And then started my anticipated fairy tale,

on the pavement I saw a woman very pale.

I couldn't judge her age from twenty metres,

she was standing outside a house of cheaters.

I saw and stared her till out of sight,

the sad eyes and the face so bright.

The red lipstick and the brows so black,

she sure wasn't from the mansion nor from the shack.

The distinctive saree and the naked feet,

the way she kept her hands were a watch to treat.

I surely got infatuated with the wonder,

I rode that journey with a new found thunder.

At the school, I did maths and science,

for the first time out of tens, I got nines.

There was certainly something special about that day,

I want to see that woman, to the god I pray.

My jolly nine-year old heart kicked on for hours,

I saw dreams of her, I did make towers.

Back at home, I smiled all the time,

Mom thought I was tired & slept me with a rhyme.

The next day journey, I saw her again,

she was still barefoot, and the eyes still showed pain.

I again saw and stared her out of sight,

she stole all my day and she stole all my night.

So the journey every morning changed for good,

I saw her everyday while riding, but never stood.

She was there everyday, she didn't notice me at first,

she seemed lost in her mind like quenching her thirst.

After a lot of days, she finally noticed me,

a frown on her face, like she was angry at me to see.

I didn't change routine, I still stared as I paced,

still the frown on her face didn't get replaced.

Then one auspicious journey, she gave me a weak smile,

whole day I felt bouts of joy while after while.

I was so happy, I wanted to save that smile in a glove,

my nine year old heart sure fell in pure love.

She became my fairy, she was my dame,

every day her smile was a joy and still the same.

The twenty metres between us never got less,

she was always the same beautiful, always the same dress.

Months and months passed like a dream,

she was my ecstasy, a heaven she did seem.

With the journey, I changed into a happy boy,

even at twenty metres, her smile pleased like a toy.

One day my father decided to drop me at school,

during the journey he caught me staring at her like a fool.

He saw her, and said, "Oh, that's an eunuch."

he pronounced the word like she was an ugly duck.

That day in school, I stole a dictionary from the library,

I read the meaning, it was so short and scary.

When I learnt all about it, I was shocked to death,

I cried and cried all day and got short of breath.

Thus I understood that it wasn't natural to love her anymore,

I stopped the journey with a heart broken and sour.

Bliss was so nice, bliss was so sure,

that part of my soul broke with no cure.

But even if I couldn't love her, I still smile at her thought,

the happiness, the love, the joy she brought.

She will be my fairy, she will be my fairy tale,

that person so sad, that person so pale.

1460 days

2010-02-07T00:09:00.001+05:30

This is not nostalgia. This is just a realisation that how fast life moves, and how we mistake it being too slow. I clearly remember how four years during the end of eighth standard, I counted out the days I had more to get out of home. 1460 days was the perfect figure and for a dozen or so days I used to cross out the days mentally. But the overwhelming number of days never seemed like ending, so I gave up counting them out. And today when I sit here on this chair, I realise that I only have a few days left and then I will be out of my own house forever. How time came and went by, each day passed away leaving weak memories occasionally. I was fourteen years old back then and how I longed to grow up. But there was one thing I had back then, and that was that I used to dream. I was an innocent dreamer, the one who used to play, study, and appreciate his own actions highly. I used to be amused, and awed by things back then, but now things only satisfy me. The sense of realism and rationality which has been crusted on me has killed that tender dreamer. Entering the ninth standard, my mind bought itself restrictions called love and future. The future of packages, of doing great, and the burden of being successful did direction me to a scripted path. And of love, I discovered a whole new world of girls. As a student of boys’ school, my contact and experience with girls had been lesser than zero. They were creatures from whom I shied from, little beautiful beings that were just meant to be admired, and dreamt about secretly under the blankets, things about whom you think about, smile and blow away like an unachievable dream. But introduction to a complicated thing like sex and flesh blood girls did make me think about them a lot. The usual concept of love did affect me and as a teenager I half forced and half lusted myself to fall into it. And for the first time in my life I had aims or roughly restrictions, love and future.

I vaguely remember my first day in my school in kindergarten, the parents saw off their kids in the quadrangle, and so did my father. Out of habit, I asked my father to come down lower near to my face so that I could kiss him. As a very private person, my father declined and softly said “This isn’t exactly the right place, son.” as the quadrangle was full of parents and students. Then he put his big hands on my face, gave me a big smile and left. I clearly remember the denial of his cheek that day. I didn’t know of embarrassment at that age.

And then there was this day, when we entered Ist standard from kindergarten. I and my best friend were sitting on the stairs, and then I held up my newly acquired blue school tie and announced, “Piyush, we are seniors now!” How big I felt and how senior I felt that day. I guess that was the biggest I ever felt in my life. And now, when I am in the highest standard of my school life, I don’t feel like a senior at all, it is just as something which is going on and has no significance. Like someone has forced me into a boat named ‘Puneet’s life’ and the oars of the boat are being controlled by someone else.

I am the only son of my working parents and from a young age I had this habit of being alone in my house for long periods of time. I have loved the hollowness and silence of the house from the beginning, it gave me my own space of imagination and the faint light coming out of the curtains have always fascinated and ignited my mind in weird ways.

The earliest and first girl in my life was the daughter of my mother’s fellow colleague in the school. I was 5 or 6 years old and I used to go to my mother’s school on some days, and she also used to come. She was my same age, I remember how we used to jump on the desks, and run through the empty classrooms. I don’t know if she was pretty or not, but she did look beautiful to me back then. I haven’t met her for twelve years, but I so want to meet and feel her now. It isn’t a feeling of love or longing, it is just that I want to see how she has grown up. I adore my memories with her, and just want to match myself with her now.

All my life I have been a good student when forced, and till sixth standard, my mother forced me enough to be great at studies. I still remember her reading out every line of the hindi chapter and then also explaining it to me. I have always been awful at hindi. She had been a good teacher to me. She just left me on my own in seventh standard and I somehow like the decision now. It made me wander into different spheres of life by myself.

I turned 18 a few days back. The 1460 days went by and that too faster than a flash. I don’t miss myself being a child, but I miss my open sky at which I used to gaze, and my open grounds on which I used to run. I hate paths and I hate directions, and somehow I feel that I lost something in my transition to being an adult. I miss something, something very dear, and something which defined me. I guess I need to cry. I need to cry.

Get the dogs

2009-11-16T21:35:00.002+05:30

“Get the dogs”, pronounced the mayor,
Agreement went through the crowd as he rose from the chair.

There were to be no more dogs in that town called ‘tray’,
All the living things watched in amazement as all the dogs vanished in a day.

The people smiled at the absence of dog shit near their garden fence,
Small eyed, big minds, they were preachers of the materialistic silence.

The new found echo of the silent bark was accepted,
“Dirty, filthy creatures they were”, mused the intellectual kid.

Tray became a town of an ordered crowd,
Elimination of the animal made them proud.

The sun rose, sat and drowned,
The days went by without a sound.

But somewhere the grand old people were sad like a chalk,
The four legged was no more there to accompany them for their morning walk.

The cats missed their gangly and handsome dogs,
Now they had to flirt with the timid mice and the fat frogs.

The cocks became tired of the whole responsibility of waking the town,
Earlier the bark was enough to wake the people in their gown.

The children had no one to throw the bones and balls at,
Instead of dogs, on their fathers the toddlers sat.

The only vet in the town got bored of treating birds and cats,
He missed the body of fleas, mud and the dirty pats.

The absence of barks made the streets a grave,
No need of running away from the bites made people forget of how to be brave.

The paw marks and squeals of the puppies,
The only music to the ears was the sound of the keys.

There were no more disturbances for the nerds studying at night,
Now they realised how much they enjoyed watching a dog fight.

No more dug grounds, no more treasure around,
It was so monotonous for the teens without the dogs around.

No more shit waiting on the door for the people in the morning,
The morning tea was so tasteless without that sight which was so frustrating.

The poet of Tray lost all his inspiration without the animal,
Without the hairy back, the hanging tongue, life was so dull.

Infants cried out for the wet licks,
Missing the dogs gave them hics.

Tray became a town of a chaotic group,
Absence of the animal made them a deflated troop.

Everyone assembled and asked the mayor to have the dogs back,
The mayor agreed and called for his servant pack.

The servants stood in front of him in a single set,
Not knowing about the task, they were going to get.

“Get the dogs”, pronounced the mayor,
“We killed all of them, so there are none left here”

And thus the sun rose, sat and drowned,
And the days went by without a sound.

The Rejection

2009-10-22T02:20:00.003+05:30

“Are you nuts dude?” Aron told me instead of asking. Eighteen year olds do that all the time.

“Here take the nuts” I handed him an imaginary bowl containing brown nuts full to the brim.

See that’s what love does to you. You start imagining so optimistically that you see everything going your way (in this case, my friend’s way).

“Are you sure that you are going to propose her, I mean if you want a hug, a kiss or a fuck, take her out to an abandoned place and out of boredom you people will definitely end up doing at least one of the three”

“I want comfort, I am tired of being single, I am going crazy without her, and I love her.” I defended my proposal feebly.

“Have a fuck with love, I can’t believe you are doing this”

“By the way, I need to buy a gift for her, I can’t propose her empty-handed.” I tried to steer him to another topic.

“Yeah, and this time I am accompanying you, you don’t want to repeat those bad smelling strange orange flowers which you gave her on her birthday” and sometimes I wonder how fast friends accept your actions and agree to be a part of it.

He stood up and went to the refrigerator.

“Why the fuck isn’t there any coke in it?” he just needed excuses to swear.

“The coke reminds me that did you do anything with Georgia that evening over the cold drinks?” I wanted the details, kisses are always fun to hear.

“No, she only kissed the coke can that evening”

“I guess you also need to propose her”

“For a kiss? To do hell with your proposal.” He barked as he threw imaginary bowl back at me.

See things were coming my way. That is what happens when you are in love.

---x---x---x---x---x---

The shop was exotic, and the things were more exotic. We both stared at this advertisement showcasing a free ticket to the lucky winner to Bahamas, bikini clad beauties sunbathing on the beach.

“Think you win this ticket, and you end up there with your girl as the partner. You won’t even be able to stare at the curves, let alone doing justice to the bodies. All you will end up doing is taking notes on the different types of lingerie dictated by your girl.” said Aron. He did terrify me a bit by the thought of holding handbags full of lingerie. But I wasn’t going for the contest, so no Bahamas, no beautiful bodies and definitely no lingerie.

“I love her man” I really wanted to convince him. He gave me a dirty look and we started the search for the heart winner.

At last I came upon this really beautiful ring with her name’s first letter inscribed on it. It reminded me of a movie, but I put the thought aside and convinced myself that I was the world’s most original Romeo.

I asked the price, and took out the money from my pocket. The money I saved in two months plus all the debts I took for this gift. I admired the ring liking the smooth surface and the shine.

“Are you really going to propose her, as in kneel down in front of her mudding your jeans and extending your hand and telling her all that gibberish?” Aron jerked me as I was going to hand over the bucks. He thought I was joking all the time I told him about her. He now understood it consciously, when I paid the money for the event. Money always seals a deal or an event.

“Yeah, that is the way it is done, right.”

“Uhh, you are going to be in deep shit, and you call it deep love.” He turned the other side to watch the bikini babes as I handed the last bucks I partially owned.

---x---x---x---x---x---

“I like you very much” I was on my knees, and as prophesised by Aron I was definitely mudding my jeans, and she was staring at me wide eyed.

“I like you too. So what is it in hiding? Aren’t we that close as friends that we like each other?” She knew. I know she knew that what I was trying to tell her.

“I mean I like you in that way” It wasn’t going as planned for sure. She moved a little away from me.

“Dave, you really have a special place in my life. I feel so comfortable talking to you or being with you, you are like my best friend. I love you, as a friend though. I don’t want to lose you.” She said as a matter of fact. Who says girls can’t shut you up?

But was that a no? I seriously couldn’t understand. All I wanted was that I wanted her to feel how much I loved her, I wasn’t quite sure how to tell her. She was insisting on me being a good friend to her for a lifetime. I can’t help being reminded of the song ‘House of cards’ by that depressing band radiohead.

I don’t want to be your friend,

I just want to be your lover.

No matter how it ends,

No matter how it starts.

For sure I wasn’t going to sing that out for her. She would definitely say no then.

“I was going crazy without telling you. From two months I wanted to tell you this and wasn’t able to. I love you.” And the surge of feeling made me lively. I really wanted her to say yes. I would have begged, but that wouldn’t have suited my dignity. I skipped the begging part.

“I don’t want to lose you. I never knew that you felt like this for me.” She was definitely making me feel guilty of feeling ‘that’ way. She continued,

“If I would even have an inclination or a hint of this, I would have cleared it to you. I never told you but I was committed. I broke up just two months back.” The last two lines were a blur.

“What?” I thought I misheard, and I was pretty sure of that.

“I was committed, I had a boyfriend. We broke up two months back.” Who said central India was safe from explosives, she just hurled a nuclear at me. I went limp, I really felt empty. I was thoroughly and truly shocked. All the times I talked to her, the long hours all these months, the laughs. I thought I owned them, but it really felt bad that I wasn’t the person she rejoiced with, I was not the person with whom she shared her thoughts with. Her heart was somewhere else when all the time she talked to me. All the attention I gave her, all the time I wanted to see her happy, the times I made her happy, it all went to another person. I felt cheated, I felt like I wanted to die, I don’t know but I couldn’t just come to terms with her having a boyfriend all this time. For once in my lifetime, I felt like a filler for empty spaces. Who was she? The girl with whom I made fun of committed people, the one who hated emotions, the free from love fun loving one, I knew her that way only and I loved her that way only. She was a joy for me. But I didn’t know this girl, the committed one. I was never important, but I thought I was, she made feel so. I wanted to cry for that, I wanted to lie down and cry. I wanted to beat my fists on the ground and cry. But that wasn’t exactly a manly thing to do, so I skipped it.

“And you call me your best friend? You never told me this” I restrained myself from using Aron’s slang.

“I never felt the need to. I don’t share such things with friends. I am like that only.” For god’s sake, is that a reason? I wasn’t ready to understand her. This was getting really dizzy, I didn’t feel like I was there. She must have had her reasons, but I guess I deserved to know at least that.

“I am really sorry, but I never knew that this would happen.” She had a point somewhere, but I wasn’t ready to take it in.

“I don’t want to lose a great friend. Give me some time” said she.

“Time as in?” I asked.

“To get over with it, I guess I don’t deserve it and why should you wait for me, but I had like to have some time, to wait for some time.” She turned away and started going away.

She was beautiful you know. The really beautiful ones you rarely see, the ones who succeed in forming a lump in your throat. She cared for me for that is why she insisted on not losing me. I loved her, I was surer of that now. My jeans were pretty mudded now. Half an hour on knees don’t exactly give you a cushion feeling.

“I guess I have decided to wait for you.” I shouted out to her as she walked away.

“I… thank you” she turned and said as she walked away.

---x---x---x---x---x---

I am eighty years old now and I am sitting on the couch and munching my imaginary brown nuts from my imaginary bowl, with the help of Aron’s dentures waiting for her. (Yes, you guessed it right, he died five years ago due to AIDS, was a gruesome scene. I don’t want to get into the details. They found the body at 2.30 in the afternoon with a live blonde along him. I guess it must be one of his pleasure sessions. So I acquired the dentures through his will, the only thing that Aron wasn’t indebted of)

I am still munching out of my imaginary bowl. See that is what love does to you.

P.S.

@Aron – You are illiterate enough not to read this. I mean you won’t bother to read this, you have your girls.

@Raghav – I heard thirty songs of Radiohead over five times in one night. I didn’t sleep for that whole night. I felt alone, and I felt really alone. Sometimes I wish I had someone to talk and discuss this thing with. Sadly I had none. I miss you man.

@Dube – You were correct, I can never get a girl. I am better off with porn.

@Senior Malik – Please don’t give me a lecture series on how many girls I can get. Let me enjoy my sadness.

@Junior Malik – You encouraged me to do this thing, see what happened. Now go eat shit.

@Ass me – Ms. NSPF is really pretty. You were correct, love doesn’t happen at all sides. I know you don’t remember yourself saying that, but what the fuck I need emotional quotations to decorate this post with.

@My first girlfriend whom I never touched – She disappointed me more in one time than you succeeded in disappointing me during our whole relationship. Learn something.

@All the above – I really feel love teaches you to be tender, and the time you spend in it is like special. Something really special. I love you all, you were there to bear my rants on facebook about my crazy love. All the times I screamed, shouted, abused and fought over it. I thank you for that. All the times you gave me advice on gifts, on styles and all the time when you encouraged me to go ahead with my heart. I may bother you no more with her. This hasn’t exactly ended the way I wanted, but then endings are not supposed to be monotonous and predictable.

@The girl I love – I love you, more than you will ever know and more than I can ever tell you. I shall be waiting for you.

Suicidal Tendencies

2009-09-12T23:13:00.004+05:30

It was one of those rare days during which both of your parents and friends succeed in depressing you, when your crush shares her chocolate with your more-handsome classmate, when your parents come to know that you were bunking the physics class and come to the conclusion that you were hanging out with a girl, when in reality you were studying for your chemistry coaching test at a friend's house. It was one of those days...

After hearing too much about my diminishing character and my moralities, I slammed the doors on my parents' back and threw myself on the bed with all the anger I could muster little realising that I broke another plastic measuring scale of mine. Tears came down the face, how they all could hate me so much. I am not that bad, maybe I am but still... and I kept on forming stories of my torture through my loved ones' hands. As the self pity poured itself over me, I decided that it was time for another suicide planning, but this time I wanted it to be something big, something which may even rock brick obama out of his beer concerts. Of course my limited imagination didn't get hold of such a self destructive scenario, but I still managed to kill myself in a real pathetic way.

Figure this -

I go to the central main market of the town equipped with a wooden log, a tank of petrol, a golden lighter, and a rope. I steal a stair from one of the shop (my last sin of bravery). I figure out an electric pole which is centrally located to the market. Pull up myself on it, and then put on the petrol on all my limbs, tie my hands to the log of wood, and just like jesus christ I hang there. The only change - I blaze my limbs with fire with the help of the lighter.

So just imagine it - My limbs all burning bright and I am shivering and thrashing myself like mad, but I am contained to that position just like a cross signifying how cross and gross I must have been with myself when I mutilated myself to such a fate... Just imagine.

Now let's come to the economics part - After such a heroic suicide, the morning comes. The first person to see me in the condition, will bag the bragging rights of being a rock-solid person at heart, and he will proudly tell his children, "the body was hanging in front of me, and blood was oozing out of it, even then I didn't faint" The amount of confidence that will be filled in his life will be enormous, who knows he may go on to become the next president of the country. The journalist who will cover all this will have the start to a golder career, no matter how dumb he may be. Same goes for the cameraman. The news channel that will show this 'breaking news' to the country first will have a week full of high TRPs. The psychologist who will try to disassemble my state of mind in front of the camera will instantly get a life-long stock of lame patients(children) who tried to cut their veins, and he will also get himself a column in the local newspaper, "How to handle your children, so that they don't try to commit badly planned suicides". The headlines will be sensational, "Blogger burning". The image of my burning corpse will go poster hit, and will be printed on shirts which punks and geeks will likewise buy. Small toys based on me will start selling, I will be the next 'voodoo' thing. The central market will get a makeover, and become a tourist spot adding joy to the banks of the shopkeepers. A place of worship will be installed in my name under the pole. Students when passing in front of my worship place will seek blessings and encouragement from me. A new found energy will spread through the youth. And I guess the government will be tricked again to think that this guy committed suicide due to examination pressure and who knows that they will do away with 12th boards also. I can't help shouting in joy that how thankful the teens will be to me. Some small time writer will stalk my parents and my not-so-good relatives, and write a novel on my life and the circumstances that led me out of mortal life. It will be a hit (at least the cheap paperback will be) the pirated copy sellers will be able to buy cars out of the money they will make from the novel on me, the next big thing after "The Da vinci code" and the small time writer will become a billionaire and another struggling publishing house will get a new lease of life. My blog will get the highest hits on the internet for the week, giving google another chance to put up advertisements on my blog and earn lots of money (once again). And who knows if pink floyd who have a thing for depression will sing a hit dance single on the events my suicide. New websites will be opened on me, and the imaginative FBI will cry foul play and different theories will start circulating making me more famous and important than that pretty girl called Princess Diana. I surely will occupy half the dinner time of the families around the world. I will go immortal in one night. Even the whole United Nations couldn't have planned such an inclusive stimulus pack for the world which would help the poor and rich at the same time.

But I decided that I am better at living, and who knows my life could do a little better for the world than my death. And with the thought I rolled over feeling the broken pieces of the scale getting embedded in my back and slept.

P.S. - The world is so full of possibilities..

Dazed.

2009-09-04T12:21:00.006+05:30

Feels like an overturned ship blasted,

Seems like blunt stones on my head casted.

All walls look ready to go red,

With my blood I will get it fed.

I run and run in the hope of being overrun by someone,

If that doesn't happen I want to be hit by that bullet in that gun.

Scratch my skin, peel it off, get it burnt,

I want to be naked is what I have learnt.

Suffering seems like so far off the land,

Touch me, comfort me by holding my hand.

I never and don't want to die,

I want to be near it and cry.

It is not what I need or deserve,

It is what all is left in my life reserve.

The things hold no meaning for me,

Even the city seems like a vast sea.

The gates are crashing, mirrors are cracking,

I am losing, I am tired but I am not backing.

Even the most obsolete thing is able to win over me,

I can't do anything, I am a broken tree.

My friends look like enemies to my eyes,

I try hard to remember their jubilant cries.

The good memories have deserted my soul,

My vices are pushing me into a dark hole.

The urge to smile till my last breath has gone,

Kiss me away like dust in a desert and I will go on and on.

Now I need and want to die,

I need to cry and say my goodbye.

Distance between the smiles...

2009-06-04T03:01:00.004+05:30

Train will reach at 8, coach no. - A1, don’t wave when u see me, dad may be standing along with me. Don’t reply, will meet there only.

I punched and sent the message to her just as mom came to my seat to check out my way of killing time on a cell phone.

“Playing snakes son?”

“Yep” I avoid giving long answers and responses to mom when I am doing the forbidden things. She always manages to catch my hesitance and gets suspicious.

Rick, my friend and the only teen holidaying with me came to sit in front of me. A smile was plastered on his face making him look more chubby than normal. I had told him that I was going to meet this old friend and ex-crush of mine who went to another city two years back. It was a faraway place and it was the first time that the train I was traveling in was going to intercept the city.

With the excitement, I was nervous also. It had been two years and I wanted to make a good impression on her after such a long time, or maybe the ending of the draught of not seeing her got me nervous. Nevertheless I stood up and excused myself from my group for a piss. As soon as I came near the vestibule of the train, I ran to the mirror and basin of the other boggie. I fixed my face, ruffled up my sitting hair, and threw water in my eyes till it hurt. Then I carefully wiped my face with my handkerchief, and put my hair in the sleeping posture, so that my parents won’t get any ideas of why I cared to fresh my face at night, when I declined the offer of a shower in the morning.

Coming back to the seat, I checked my watch. Half an hour to go. I started the preparations, I asked my mother for the digicam and gave it to Rick so that he could be an excuse to keep till my concerned station comes. I looked down at myself just to find that the two days in the train have wrinkled my clothes like waves on the sea, I pressed the clothes with my hand to make them look ironed but in vain. I didn’t try further because maybe I didn’t want to give her ideas that I overdid my appearance. Maybe I didn’t want her to know that I had been thinking about the meet all the time, it would be uncool of me to show my anxiety. I decided to look normal because somewhere I had read that you are at your best when you act natural.

I sat near the window and whenever a station would come, I would press my nose against the glass just to make out the name of the station. This resulted in the reddening of my nose after seven stations passed.

“Seems like a big city” announced my uncle forty minutes after my face wash. I went on the alert mode.

“It is xyz (my concerned station)” replied Rick with his eyes fixed towards me. Of course he was waiting for my reactions. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of my nervousness. I casually went towards him and took the digicam from him, and said, “C’mon lets get a fresh breath out there on the station.”

“And we need the digicam for breathing, right?” he said under his breath as I opened the heavy door of the boggie.

“Kind of yes, her looks will take your breath away.” I replied with an annoyed grunt.

I put both the hands on the handlebars and with the train slowing down, and the wind ripping my face my hair were set into the old wild mode. I stood there having the whole doorway to myself, feeling like some mythical hero.

And then the platform materialized, and the nervousness crept up my body. I felt light. A very bumpy happiness which was accompanied by butterflies gripped my stomach. My past with her started playing in front of me in a series of blurring slides. The talks, the walks, the gawks (by me), the messages on the pieces of paper, the weathered leaves thrown on each other, the smiles which didn’t really say anything, the cruel jokes on our batch-mates in the coaching, the sarcastic agrees to an ignorant and arrogant world. She completed me, touching my heart and soothing me as a confused teenager. I then realized how much I missed her for all this time. We never met when she went away, I regret it till this moment. I never really told her about how much I wanted her, never told her that she was one person whom I always expected to see the right side of my choices in life, the only one who would agree with me with an infectious laugh. How I silently admired her, the way she laughed, the kiddish joy in her eyes which always held me like a statue in a brief linger. The jerk of the stopping train put me back into my consciousness

I absorbed the platform while clearing my eyes for some clear view, I was aware of Rick breathing just behind me, waiting for me to make a move. I guess he was more interested in proving that the girl won’t come to meet me at the junction. I held my position at the door and also kept blocking it, feeling that someone else would steal her if I will let the people go. Fortunately there weren’t any passengers who had to get off this junction. I scanned the sparse crowd which was in front of me on the platform, and there she was standing in the familiar way with one foot always extended to the maximum in the side direction. She turned into quiet a girl, the spectacles were much more smarter now, the dressing sense still the same and one you would fall in love with. She wore a brown long tee shirt with a black undershirt which complimented each other’s existence on her skin, a dark blue denim trouser which hugged her legs like I always wanted, and as usual she had folded it into a 3/4^th. I tilted my head to one side and stared at her for a few moments, trying to appreciate and absorb her and her existence. She was smiling at me and maybe from the moment my coach came in front of her. I noticed it just then, I gave her back a tired, but a very fulfilling smile. I wanted to run and hug her, and tell her how much it meant for me that she came to meet me. Her smiled widened as she acknowledged me fully, and I jumped off the door on the platform.

“Nick, there you are”, my dad gave the certificate of his existence on that train from behind me, and I cursed my luck. The worst thing to happen in such a situation.

“Just clicking some pictures, dad.”

“Anything special in this junction?” he asked in his usual carefree tone, how much time will he stand here with me. And how much time do I really have until the train starts again. Now that dad was here, I couldn’t even stare at her. I took out the camera out of the pouch and focused it towards her pretending to capture the distant building out of the railway station.

And through the lens, I looked at her. The expression on her face told me that she understood my situation and the circumstance but was somehow upset. I didn’t blame her. She was still smiling though, it was the same old eyes and the same old thick eyebrows, but wait something familiar was missing. I tried to figure out. Oh! Her braces were no longer there, of course I knew that she got rid of them a lot of time back, but still I had never imagined her without them for all these two years. Funny, she looked much better without them, but I guess I was in love with the girl with the braces. I put off the lens and saw straight towards her and nodded to her without any reason, maybe I found it the best thing to do at that moment.

“Here take a picture of me and Rick” as my dad posed along with Rick, I was happy for the distraction, maybe I was too nervous to be staring towards her direction for a lot of time. The picture was nice, my dad’s face glowing as always and Rick the same old smart guy. I wondered how I was looking at that moment, I didn’t want to leave a bad impression on her. It will be a long time we will meet again or maybe never at all. Maybe never at all, it hit me on my drowsy head with a sharp pain. Never at all. I turned towards her, my face turned sad. I felt like I never wanted her to come, to meet me, to give me new memories. I guess I was pretty happy being nostalgic about her with my loneliness, pretty happy dreaming about all the times we spent, and pretty happy thinking about her. But now I will miss her more, regretting leaving her again. She left my life once when she went away and even if this was just a ten minute brushing of each other, I will always be reminded of her standing there on the platform for me and I couldn’t even hug her.

The whistle of the train announced the ending of the trip of the city.

“You two, get up here fast.” Ordered my dad as he went into the boggy. I stepped up and took my position on the door with my hands on the handlebar, which had become accustomed to my flesh for the past half an hour.

She was looking at me and shaking her head as in regretting something. I blinked at her and mouthed thank you. I was happy that she came, I was sad that she came. I took a deep breath and released it, like the life she took out of me during this meet.

The train started moving. There were no waves, just self assumed smiles.

She kept standing there leaving me stranded on the moving train.

I just call...

2009-04-29T04:24:00.004+05:30

They tell me that they softly caress the forehead and close the eyes. They tell me that they kiss them on their lips and let them sleep. The girl sleeps and then the guy goes away with her fragrance trailing behind him.
I can't really do all this, so I call. I wake up for the whole night and call her, even if she is asleep and doesn't pick it. I still keep her calling, always pushing the redial button. I don't jump walls and bruise myself on blunt edges, I just switch off the lights of my room, lie down on my bed and call her. I don't knock on windows, I just smile at the 'connecting' update on my cell. I don't wait for her to open the window, I just wait and hope for her to pick up the call. I don't spend the whole night whispering into her ears, but whispering to myself the things I will say to her when she will pick up the call. I don't feel her eyebrows brushing my face, just my cell crushing my cheeks. I don't see her lying in her gown, just imagine her sleeping with her pillow in her arms. I don't fear her parents coming to her room, I just fear my parents coming to my room.
I hope she keeps sleeping with that face of hers twisted in a sweet smile. Even if I hate disturbing her, I still hope that she may pick up my call and talk to me with that sleepy voice of hers with a tinge of love in it which makes me feel so good. I spend my owl hours just trying to talk to her but still hoping not to wake her up.
As the sun rises, I sadly keep the cell besides me and putting my arms behind my head, I try to sleep only to find that sleep has abandoned me. I wonder if my love is timid in front of those who jump the walls. I guess I don't know. I guess love is trying to put a smile on the face of the person you love. Be it by jumping walls and surprising her or by astonishing her by giving hundreds of missed calls in a single night...

P.S. - The above post doesn't tells my current heart situation, it is a year old situation... just written now.

10 months and 10 days - kota and bases...

2009-02-22T23:37:00.000+05:30

So atlast I tore away from my busy schedule which doesn't really includes studying, and I wrote this post. One year back, during these days only I used to dream(before sleeping) of coming to kota, of living on my own, and the excitement of one's own responsibility. I did come to kota, and I did live those dreams. But now I am going, a more than a bit early than I should have. I came here to fulfill a job, and that was to get into an IIT. I am leaving the job half finished, maybe it will be best for me leave it like that...

This post is dedicated to kota. complete notes, go to doubt classes, discussion with friends, go to the mess, prepare the breakfast, set the alarm, switch off the light before sleeping, study without reminders, buy all the required things... It teaches you a lot, hate it or love it you can't do without it. And I did both, hated and loved it at different times. After all these months, it still seems like I entered kota a week ago only. You can easily lose yourself in the 20000 students studyin here. We had exams every five weeks, and the gap between never seemed like five weeks. Days used to go by like hours, even if the routine was the same I never for a moment felt bored. I enjoyed it, I loved the freedom. I loved the non-interference in my life by parents. Yeah it is true that students of my age should be under a leash or we can go wayward, but uncensored freedom changes your attitude towards life a lot. You are never doing things for others, but for yourself. Be responsible for yourself, remain away from temptations of smoking, drinking and things. It is a big world and a mean world at that.

You are alone here, there are not many real friends you can make, but the ones you make are the best you can ever have. So most of us are alone here in our conquest for the ultimate prize. During the journey you get disappointed a lot of times, mainly when your batches drop because of scarcity of marks or when you suddenly feel helpless. I had this incident in which I was feeling like puking, but I was alone in my room and I felt like I was going to die and wanted to call my mom one last time. I didn't die of course. Kota teaches you disappointment in large quantities, it will throw you in various directions, let you have multiple moods. You have to be a fighter to come back from the disappointment. You feel like a worthless loser most of the times. You promise yourself everyday that you will do wonders the next day, but it is not to be so. You can easily watch your destruction or construction(in whatever way you see it), but the dusty town never spares you.

Most of us act as emotionally disattached students when walking on the road, but in fact we have got all the emotions bubbling and burning in our heart. I made very few friends here in kota, and maybe two or three can be called the real ones. But the one I will never forget was the one I met only a dozen times. The times we both had, walking around the circumference of our colony, discussing many things about ourselves and life. He is one year senior to me and in a short time I was attached to him, maybe because of all the lonliness and emptiness with which kota filled me or I was awed by him. Together we abused many things, insulted each other in subtle ways, but never crossing a peculiar line. We were never really personal, but I learnt one thing, that I can discuss my faults and feelings without really getting personal. Let me call him base(as his playing name is acid). Acid taught me a lot of things, acted as an elder brother. Even if I never had an elder brother or sister, noone till now tried or managed to play that part. Everyone treated me as an equal, but acid suceeded in being an elder brother as well as an equal. Hats off to you buddy. He had his life and maybe he doesn't really likes to respect it, but I did. He had his desires and dreams which he curbed and I respect him for that. And that line of his, "It seems like I bunked two years from my life here" does tell a lot, it shows the humour and pain maybe... A warmth and a real friend, I will miss it all till I die, but then I am going away to meet him again sometime somewhere. I miss this guy, he changed me...

Coming back from emotions

I tore away from my innocent school and came to kota. Kota is not an innocent child, it is an honest adult. It rewards those who are gifted, either with brains or with resilience. It ditches those who think from their heart anad maybe I was one... Till 10th I wanted to do IIT because it was the right thing to do, but not really the thing which I wanted. But the mean consumption of my so-called-right-thing taught me to follow dreams. You can never live without a dream and you can never really live without doing it. It happened with me, maybe it will be correct for me to rectify my mistake and give my dream my chance. I maybe a failure here, but I can be a winner because of the failure. I should hate kota for wasting my year, but I don't. I love it, I love it for its homely insecurity, its uncertainty, its stranger like character... and I love it for teaching me that you can never be happy with what you don't really want. I don't regret coming here and I never will, and maybe all of us should spend a year like this in our lives. I came as a stranger here and I go back as a stranger.

Even after one month of making my decision of going back, I still bite my pillow and throw away a few tears against going back. I will miss it, I don't know how I will survive without kota. But then I survived in kota itself, it gave me enough strength to survive anywhere else... I will survive to come back here and survive for my infinite dreams and desires. It will be exactly 10 months and 10 days when I will leave day after tommorrow. A perfect 10 for kota, and perfect 10 for me to take this decision.

For my friends here,
You are alone here fighting for survival and fighting for your lives...
May you find your lives rather than win...
I am going back...
Maybe I will come back...

Why should I kill?

2009-01-07T20:47:00.000+05:30

It has been a long time that we have been cursing the terrorists and blaming everything on them. But do they really deserve it? Or do we deserve to die? I think the answer is that both the sides don't really deserve this kind of life. I wrote this poem on a terrorist's perspective, just to show that everyone have their reasons. I maybe extreme in certain places, but then there is no measure to anger. Either it is there or it is not. So when was the last time a parent asked his child to respect another religion? When was the last time you fought for equality? When was the last time you cursed a politician for going against the minorite? We really need to look inside ourselves. Instead of asking why should they kill, we should ask ourselves that why shouldn't we let them stand as our brothers...

It was a broken house in which I was born,
with the ninth child, my family was torn.

Still my father picked me with a smile on his face,
and welcomed me to this hell with grace.

They named me after a king,
didn't tell me that I lived in the city's poorest wing.

In my childhood I never fiddled with any toys,
but the worst thing was that I wasn't allowed to play with the other boys.

It weren't my parents who stopped me,
but the other people who didn't allow me.

I used to watch my family struggle for a single day's meal,
and I picked up wounds which took a lifetime to heal.

Even in the school I sat studied and ate alone,
I was abused and my pride was blown.

But I studied well for half a decade,
my family didn't have enough money to send me to the next grade.

Then atlast I asked my mother something,
which had been troubling me like a sting.

"Mom do we vary from others and are a mismatch?
to be treated equal, will I have to be their hatch?"

"No son, you are their equal and not an immigrant,
it's just that they want us to be different."

I didn't understand the answer that day,
but for the rest of my life it defined my pathway.

Then one day a mob came and burnt my broken house,
raped my sisters and killed my mother's spouse.

Hiding her tears my mother ran away with me,
I was devastated and wanted to die and flee.

My life became full of helplessness and despair,
and atlast I understood why I wasn't treated fair.

My mother became mad and fell ill,
died screaming because there was no money for a single pill.

Waiting for the life to end like a bad player,
full of sorrow I wandered here and there.

At last I met people like me,
we all suffered was the only similarity.

With them my sorrow turned into anger,
and I realised the suffocation like a tie on a hanger.

I felt that they were my brothers,
all went through the same things, not like the others.

I wanted to inflict the same pain I felt,
wanted their bodies to tremble and melt.

I joined my suffered brothers just to equip myself,
I wanted to kill the discriminators and clean the shelf.

With my brothers, I swore my life to hit back,
at the people who killed my father and burnt my shack.

From a white cloud, they turned me into a dark cloud full of water,
kept filling me with more and more anger which grew hotter and hotter.

Life always comes back to unity.
if there is too much profit, there will be loss infinity.

To cancel my sorrow, I wanted the same amount of joy,
the joy of revenge and remembering my mother say, "boy".

I want to make the difference between you and me nil,
and then you ask me," Why should I kill?"

My First half Date - NEARLY COMPLETE

2008-09-02T19:11:00.000+05:30

Nothing is sweeter in a coaching class other than defeating a genius who is an egoist and your best friend by 2 marks in a trigonometry test. And that sweetness is multiplied by infinity when it is in front of a girl you have a crush on.
Now I have this friend Anton who is a total genius, studies damn well. We have another guy with us, Kevin, a crybaby unlike what his name suggests. And then me and a girl. Together we make 4 in the coaching. Wait... yes four only.
"How much did you get" asked our cowboy-type-dressed-up coach
"18" mumbled Kevin.
"You"
"28" said Anton looking up from his answer sheet for the first time in the last 40 minutes. I punched my desk and mumbled "yes" to myself.
"You"
"24" said my partner( only in the coaching).
"and you" asked my coach with a sneer. He had that satisfaction that I must have scored in the negative because I was the most inattentive and talkative of the lot.
"30, sir" said I with a satisfaction which my coach had a moment ago. Anton was staring at me. He must be thinking "Boy how did he get that" But then I have scored the highest in the first test of our all new coaching.
"You all can go now. Tommorrow at 6." With that our coach dismissed us from the class without congratulating me.

"Congrats Leo" Kiara congratulated me as we stepped out of the room.
"Thanks, the paper was relatively easy. Where did you do a mistake?" I asked her as I faced her, now i can stare at her pretty face without that nosy coach asking me to shut up or to concentrate on my note-less copy. You see due to the 40 minute examination, he let us go 20 minutes earlier. Now the only thing that I pray for is the late coming of his dad to the coaching. I want some time with her.
"That cos 37 degree question, I have never seen the likes of fancy unit digits in a degree till now, so i didn't know the value of it." she answered in a gruff tone. I think it's a bad idea to ask a girl her mistakes after an examination.
"Oh that, it was relatively easy, pure logic you know. I also didn't know it's value but it was getting cancelled here." I opened the question paper and showed it to her, she pretended to look but I knew that she wasn't interested. So it's a much more bad idea to show a girl the correct answer for her mistake.
Anton and Kevin brushed passed me in a great hurry. I was just going to call out for Anton when i saw that Kevin was weeping.
"What's this, is he crying." she asked me in a hushed tone.
"Yeah, must be. I have seen him crying in the class because he couldn't complete his notes in the prescribed time, and i was laughing because I submitted my last year's notes to escape punishment, so the least marks in the coaching must a really heart breaking blow to him." I told her.
"Hey Leo, I think we should call kevin when he reaches home, he is too upset to be left alone." Anton said in a near dead tone.
"Leave it, he just pretends." matter over, Anton won't say anything more to me because he knows that I despise that Kevin and it won't be any use. Now I was waiting for Anton's dad so that only me Kiara are left and I could take her out to eat something. Well I wasn't exactly hungry but yeah when you eat with a girl you keep eating a variety of things because that's the only time when you keep an eye for the number of courses. We have to impress the girl na.
Time was running out, his dad wasn't going to come early. So with a heavy heart I gave in and decided to take out Anton along with her.
"Listen guy and girl, now that the crybaby has gone, I am giving you a party." I asked them instead of really pleading them.
"Good idea, let's go to the Ruckus it's the nearest pizzeria." Anton stated the spot like he was going to pay the bills. We both looked towards her.
"OK" wow why is she so straight, I mean c'mon no other response but at least she has agreed to come.
"So how will we go." asked Anton, now this guy is always obsessed with bad facts. I come on my cycle, Anton's dad drops and picks him, and Kiara comes on her scooty. So that's a problem there. Who two will be on the scooty of the three? Well that was kind of a jackpot question then. But as a very tender and a resigning soul I am, I gave my best friend the signal.
"You two go there, I will catch you both there" said I. Anton gave me such a look like he has just won the Champions League cup and not believing it. After 30 seconds he managed to get something out of his throat.
"Hey Kiara can I drive the scooty upto the pizzeria if you don't mind" he asked in a very sweet voice though he doesn't have one.
"Yeah of course, if you won't drop me during the journey." she said. Wow!!! No hesitation, no half denials and no problems. I peered into her pearl – black eyes half expecting to find love for my best friend in them. But all I got was a blank stare towards the trunk of a tree besides the empty road.
“See you there in three minutes” Anton raced away with my girl behind him, if you call 30 kmph racing away.

Histronomics – Kiara lives in Anton’s apartment. And Anton had a crush on her from the moment he set his eyes upon her (around 4th standard). And I met Kiara only through him. I am nursing a liking for her from the day I met her. But the teen friendship law says that she is his girl and I am not supposed to woo her.

I took my bike (motor-less in fact, I won’t call it a cycle due my ego) from under the overgrowth of branches grown by our coach. I seated myself on the bike with the efficiency of a hero. With thoughts of Kiara in my mind, I started my short journey.

A boy always savours the air which blows across his face during a bike ride, tries to feel it in his hair (even if they are too short). As I overtook a crawling bus, I realized that this will be the first time I will eat-out with a girl. Sad that I will have to share her company with Anton. A lot of new things happen with you, once you land in 10th standard. A board year always brings pressure and also maturity and the most important thing; courage. So the courage rode me on. I chanced upon to see plants grown on the divider of the road and instead of the usual appreciation of the only thing done by the city corporation I remembered flowers. Oh shit! Why didn’t I think of them, but it was too late now.

I would have presented the bunch of flowers to her in front of the whole restaurant. She would have blushed and said, "Thank you Leo, I never thought you love me so much”

Con-science – Why are you breaking her trust, she considers you only as a great friend.

I reached the pizzeria and parked my motor-less bike along with the other motor bikes. It must look funny that an iron rod assembled thing with pedals is surrounded by heavy metal demons. I looked for my friends but they still weren’t there.
“Hey Leo”
I turned left to see Anton coming towards me. But there was no girl besides him.
“Where is Kiara?”
“She is parking the vehicle”
“I thought you drove the scooty”
“Yeah I did, but as the parking needed a more experienced person, I let her do it.”
“Oh, that is so lame of you” and I laughed at his timid ness. He seems a master of foolishness. No dignity.
“Shut up and by the way, I was mightily surprised when you didn’t stop me from riding that vehicle with her behind.”
“I never thought about it” It never really struck me before that but now I was thinking. Oh man! He took her with him. They were placed on the same vehicle, she must have placed her arms round him during the journey. He must have tried some tricks during the ride. Aarrghh, I can’t think of it anymore. How did I let this mistake happen? Shit, shit, shit, shit.
“She didn’t have a problem with you riding it.” I said after a gap of three minutes, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that I was jealous.
“Hey guys, what are you waiting for, let’s go inside.” Kiara was back.
“Waiting for your heavenly presence” I replied as I pushed the glass door.
“Whatever” why is she so dismissive of most of the sweet things I say to her. Is that the way most of the girls react? I just want her to be in good humour so that she enjoys and remembers the time we will spend forever.
“All the corners are occupied, let’s take the middle one” I pointed out a table for four which was in front of the serving counter. Both of them nodded.
“So who is going to have a look at the menu” asked Anton after we settled down. Who cares for the food? I just want to stare at her face. But then I realized something.
“Hey Kiara, I think you should inform your parents that you are here and will come a bit late” I didn’t want any trouble from her parents. They needn’t think that t8eir daughter is abducted or something.
“Yeah I think I should”
“Here take my cell” I offered her my cell phone. She didn’t bring one. She hated them.
“I’ll be back in a minute” she went towards the entrance with my cell in her right hand.
“What are you going to order?” Anton asked as soon as she got out of sight.
“I have just enough money for buying a six piece large pizza”
“O.K.”
“You take the money and order at the counter”
“O.K., give me the money”. I handed him the whole of the bills that were in my wallet, but just enough for a large pizza. It left me broke. Sitting alone I started tapping on the table and peered over the males to find young pretty faces.
“It’s raining outside” Kiara came from behind me.
“Cool, at last the rain gods are happy”
“But now we will have to wait and it’s already 7:25. So I called dad over here. I don’t want to get wet while going home.” She handed back my cell to me. So her dad is coming over here to take her.
“When have you called him?”
“20 minutes from now, I think we will be finished by then.”
“Finished?” I was surprised, I haven’t even proposed her or made a move and she is already thinking of finishing it.
“I mean that your party will be over by 7.45” she said. That’s O.K. with me but I think she called her father a bit early, but then when have parents come at the right time. It has never happened with my father, let’s see if a girl’s father is on time or not.
"You know what, I didn't study anything for the examination" I told her, and it was totally true because the whole day I was busy staring at the orkut profiles of girls.
"Same here, I was playing with my small brother for the whole day and when the coaching time came, only then did I remember that we had an examination today!"
“Ordered!” Anton announced his comeback.
“And other than the pizza, I also ordered a chowmein for us.” he added.
“Oh so you are not that poor.” I responded. I just so liked to annoy him. Kiara started staring at me. Now what? it was a joke, I didn't really mean to call him poor, it just meant that he could have been a little creative with choice of the second dish. I would never dish out money on a dish like that in an expensive eatery when I can get it for a quarter of the price just outside my place.
Now her stare, I have been a subject to this stare once before also. Once during our regular coaching classes, I mustered up enough courage and wrote, ' You look stunning today ' on my near empty copy, and I showed it to her, she gave me the same eye-brow raised dirty look. I hated it, I am not really like other guys who like to see their interests angry. What do they say "You look really beautiful when you are angry". What the.... Girls look totally shit with their face screwed up with unneedable anger but then guys have mastered of finding at least something positively interesting in their girl's moods and modes. Anton liked the hate stare, so he also put up an attitude and sat. Other times Anton would have cursed me and laughed away my comment, but this time he was acting as the bad dog and impressing upon Kiara that only he was the clean-no-insult guy here. I hated him.

P.S. The above incident/accident/date took place during mid-summer of 2007, we were all 10th standard guys. Kiara is no more my crush, and I am really fortunate to have close friends like Anton and Kiara. I respect both of them a lot. Hey guys, I won't compromise your identity, but if you want some publicity then you can confess it in my comments. Thanks a lot for being a part of my life. I miss you both too much...

oVer Is ovEr

2008-08-13T16:51:00.000+05:30

Putting my indefinite hibernation aside, I break over my conscience and break my promise of not coming back for two years. But breaking a promise is nothing new to me because whenever I make a promise to me, I mostly end up half fulfilling it.

So putting my laziness aside, I put my fingertips on the heavenly keys of the keyboard and announce my homecoming.

I AM BACK

It's oVer

2008-04-12T20:53:00.000+05:30

It comes to an end. Not really an end but yes a stoppage. Today I stop writing on my blog for two years. I failed in my life because at last I had succumb under the pressure of my making my career. My damned life. These two years will be the most vigorous till now. Just two things to do-study and survive.
But it was always a great feeling when writing for my blog. I will always miss it. The black page opening slowly on my browser due to the slow internet connection. But there was an excitement in itself to lt it unlock slowly. It always felt like an achievement when I used to complete a post for the blog and when I used to get a comment. I will miss it and I promise I will strike back after two years. I will miss you all my readers. I discovered myself through this blog and through you. Thanx to all. Till then you fill your apetite by reading my older posts only and if possible then a comment will be good. I leave this blog at 591 profile views. Bye I will miss this very much. :(
Last thing I will say
When I really started to live, I had to die...

Rehab my foot

2008-04-04T13:40:00.000+05:30

Ways to reduce stress in board examination.
Tips to fight the board examination fear.
Useful tips by toppers to form a good mindset for the board examination.

These were the headlines I read 2 days before giving my first board exam. I don't know but these people really make a hell of board examination. Stress, I never heard of this thing before the tenth examination and now that I have heard I am still not feeling any heat or something. I am cool about the board examination, and people talk about it as it is some type of war. They hype it like anything and even the students who don't even know the meaning of stupid words like tension, fear, stress become stressed.
Can't we give the board examination like any other normal examination. I haven't felt anything like stress till now and I bet I won't feel any stress for the rest of the remaining examination days. And you know what my mother was telling me, " Puneet, don't feel the pressure. Just relax."
And I said, "You too, mum."
I am giving the examination and I tell you there is no damned pressure. Just chilling reminders in the mind. Come on, if we start feeling the pressure at such a young stage, how will we survive when we will get married (I mean then there will board examination everyday in the marriage).
Live to the best in the board year, do all your heart desires and give the boards in a cool mood.
We don't need rehab or councelling.

Like Amy Winehouse mumbled,
"They tried to make me go to rehab
I said no, no, no."

Forgive Myself

2008-04-04T01:58:00.000+05:30

From the last 7 years in this prison, I have been wondering that why don't cells have transparent walls. Not that I want the world to watch me, but instead I want to watch the world and feel it's love in my soul. Noone ever loved me, I think that's because I am too good to be loved or because I love others so much that they don't feel the need to give it back to me. You see we only love people when we feel that they won't pay attention to us unless loved by us and if someone pays attention to us without our love then we take that person for granted. In this cell number 12 I have spent 7 years of my life and I think I am going to spend the rest of my life here only. You see I am granted a life sentence for killing my best friend Jon.

I remember the day I got my first assignment success in my newly joined Multinational. I was feeling very elated and I wanted to gift my wife a necklace on the occasion. My boss gave an early leave that day. I went to Sotter's Jewellary shop and bought an expensive necklace for my wife, Kelly. I threw away the price tag because Kelly doesn't likes to spend so much money on such things. She is my queen, she is. I just can't spend more than a day without seeing her. I took the necklace and hurried off to home.
As soon I turned in our street, I saw Jon's bike parked in my garage. Now I was overjoyed, I would give my success news not only to my wife but also to my best friend. How happy he will become, I know that. He will punch me on my back and pointing towards his heart he will say,"You are right there"
I parked my car. I was going to ring the bell to my house when I remembered that I had left the back door in the morning. I wanted to surprise Kelly, so I turned towards the back of the house. On reaching the back door, it was still open. I pushed it gently so that Kelly won't hear me coming.
I was just gulping up happiness on imagining the good reaction of my best friend and my wife. The best news of my adult life till now will be shared with the most loved people of my life.
I reached the living room but there was noone in there. I heard some noise coming from my bedroom. The door to my room was closed. I pushed it open and the scene which I saw is the one I never wanted to remember but still whenever I go to sleep I see it. It's like a negative of a black and white photograph embedded in my brain.
My best friend was sleeping with my wife on my favourite sheet and in my favourite blanket. Just in front of me were Kelly's clothes spread on the floor. And she was there in my best friend's arms.
"Dave" she barely managed to say as she saw me. She was shocked to see me.
"What?" Jon said as he released Kelly from his arms.
"I got this for you Kelly" I kept the necklace box on her clothes on the floor.
My best friend turned to face me, you see he was faced towards Kelly. As he saw me he opened his mouth and then closed it. I think he didn't have anything to say.
"Listen Dave, please don't do someth..." I didn't allow Kelly to complete her sentence as I closed the door. It was the first time in my life that I didn't let her complete her sentence. She thought I would do something insane.
"I won't do anything" I shouted as I collapsed on my sofa. I choked as I tried to drink the glass of water kept on the table in front of me. I wasn't able to swallow what I saw. I wanted to run away, I didn't want to shoot or beat or kill any one of them. But I just wanted to run away. Somewhere far away.
I think I was just crying when I heard the back door getting closed, I turned and saw Kelly back in her clothes. She sat in front of me.
"Dave." she said softly, she was sobbing.
"I just want to ask one thing, did I love you less" I asked her, still without an eye-contact with her.
"I am terribly sorry, and you never loved me less. I was just no..." I cut her sentence second time in my life.
"Ok, don't say anything more." I stood up and went to my study.
I sat on my father's rocking chair. I thought, I thought and I thought. Instead of feeling enraged or anything, I found that it was my mistake. I never gave Kelly any time in which we would talk. I always talked about my work and my office. She must really be feeling lonely and as an adult she must be looking for love. She has got her own needs. I didn't give her time. But something inside told me that it was her mistake, but still I brushed off the thought. I loved her and I had invested so much of my heart in her that I won't be able to live without her. She was just another part of my heart and a whole of my soul.
As for my best friend Jon, he is unmarried and must have slept with my wife only due to his irresistible lust. He is smart and gives attention to Kelly, Kelly must be automatically attracted to him. It's my mistake, if I can't give love to Kelly, I shouldn't expect loyalty from her. I won't forgive her because there is nothing to forgive about and as for my best friend, I don't know. If he will talk, I will also talk to him.
And that night I promised myself that from now on, I would love my wife very much and tend to her every need. And I would never again talk about the night.
I forgave myself for my shortcomings and that day was marked in my life for I forgave myself.
In the days that came, we didn't talk much. I tried to be as normal to her as possible. But she was quite, never really responding to me. She was that same homely wife. I also took leaves to drive her around the country-side. I knew that she always loved the country-side views. But she was never really there. I think she was too guilty of what she had done. Our relationship was not the way it was before, she was extra careful in not offending me. Her humour was gone, but I didn't want her to be like that. I wanted the college Kelly back, the Kelly whom I kissed on the lips in front of our school sweeper (We didn't know he was sweeping in the same empty classroom).
"Forget about it Kelly, just be yourself. See I have forgotten it. I met Jon today, we had coffee in the office cafeteria." I told her one day. I was lying about meeting Jon, but I would never mind a coffee with my best friend. But in reality I didn't see Jon again after that evening.
"Oh, I am sorry Dave for that. I am really sorry and yeah I am getting back to my normal self. Good you met Jon." she said in her familiar soft voice.
"And did you like the necklace I gave you?"
"Yeah it was very pretty."
"So, why haven't worn it till now."
"You gifted me on the saddest day of my life and I will wear on the happiest day of my life" she said as she stood up to go to the kitchen.

Four years went by and we were going along happily.
Then one Thursday night, when I came back to my home, I again saw Jon's bike parked in the same spot where it was parked four years ago. I was outraged at first but without making any preconceptions, I ran upto the door of my house. It was open and I entered.
As I entered the house, I heard noises from my room. Now memories were pouring back. But wait someone was weeping in the room, these weren't noises but someone was really weeping.
This time the door was open unlike the last time four years ago. I entered the room and again I saw a scene which I won't forget for the rest of my life. Kelly was sitting at the corner of the room with my gun besides her. And Jon was lying just in front of me. He was dead, and I could see that there were two shots in his chest. I felt pity for my best friend. There was blood across the room floor. It was his blood. Tears flowed on my face, I loved him very much. And in my mind I told him "You are right there Jon."
"He tried to k..." Kelly didn't finish the sentence, she was crying very hard.
"Listen, go to the kitchen and drink a glass of water." I didn't want to hear the reason, I just didn't want to hate anyone of them.
"Dave, he..." I cut her sentence the third time in my life.
"I don't want to hear the reason. I will do what I can." I didn't want to understand the situation, I just wanted to save my wife, my pretty wife.
I heard the police sirens after five minutes. I turned towards Kelly.
"I was afraid and in that I called the police." she said. Now this was turning a hell for me. Everything was black in my mind.
The police entered the house and sealed it.
We were standing in our garage surrounded by the police personnel. After two hours we were called inside the house.
"What happened here?" the strong burly officer asked us.
"Jon came t..." I cut Kelly's sentence for the fourth and the last time in my life.
"I killed him." I told the officer. I didn't see Kelly's face. They arrested me.
After four days my hearing took place. I confessed the charges of committing the crime, and that day Dave Weller was handed a life sentence for killing his best friend. After the judgement, I was taken out of the court and there I saw Kelly coming out of the court crowd. I wanted to see her and gulp her the last time under the sun. I loved her very much. As I watched her beautiful face, I saw something shining on her neck. She was wearing the necklace I gifted her the day I saw her having coitus with my best friend.
I still wonder about the things that happened on those two bed-room days. Funny how my adult life was defined by my bedroom floor and my bedroom sheet. Kelly never came to visit me in my cell number 12. I lost the two persons I loved the most and I think those two people lost the person they hated the most.
In the seven years I never cried, I just thought and waited for a woman called Kelly. There was nothing to regret in my life, just emptiness. I always lost in life, always. I stare at the ceiling and think what wrong I had done to Kelly that she never came.
I think I never gave them the chance to explain me the things that were happening. Why did I always think for them. Why? I don't know if they betrayed me or not, but I know that I was betrayed by my brain, by my instincts. You still wondering why I always used 'best friend' instead of saying Jon, because for me he was never the same honest Jon when he slept with my wife, he just remained my best friend. The title 'best friend' which I gave to him, sleeping with other's wife became my best friend's characteristic but not my Jon's characteristic. He slept with my wife as my best friend but never as Jon. That's why I loved Jon. I loved my wife.
I loved, loved, loved and loved but never got loved.
I forgave myself once and now again
I forgive myself for nothing...

aLl sAy iT's ovEr lEt's sEe

2008-03-29T17:22:00.000+05:30

"Nothing left in life, we study our brAins off and go to damned coachings for 6 hours a day for our damned careers and after career damned jobs. It's over, just nothing. Only dragging life."

Said a very good friend of mine(hours after we gave the final board examination).

Tenth class over and only two years left in my beloved school, and people saying that the real life is going to start now and by the real life they mean struggle. Nothing just damned tensions.
At the starting of the tenth standard, I was told that it will be a very hard year. But instead I enjoyed a lot. Kept away from books as much I can. Still I think I did ok in the boards. Hope I get a good percentage.
People brag a lot about hardships and I tell you it's not very hard in the tenth boards.
I don't know about eleventh, let's see what we have got here. I have again made up my mind to study every hour for the two years(but I know I will never be able to do even quarter of it). I made the same promise to myself in tenth and you know what I never studied until the pre-boards came.
I have heard that the next two years will be difficult but tell you all, I will live it to the fullest. Let me look towards a more difficult and hard time.
Hope I will come out of this labyrinth with a lot of injuries because I love injuries. Injuries help a lot, they don't let you forget your bad as well as good times...
There is hope and the whole human kind has been living on hope.
Let's see what's in store.
Love?
Hardship?
Friendship?
Defeat?
or nothing...

I will tell you this after two years
Till I will help myself...

Why do you have to go away???

2008-03-09T11:33:00.000+05:30

Why do you have to go away?
with my heart still in a sway
When we really started to know each other
i think you mistook me as a brother
when we really started to talk
your going away is a real knock
you know what dear
your eyes are very clear
i don't know if you will remember me
please do cos' for that i don't take a fee
we never stood together like Leo and Kate
let's see what in offer does have our fate
it has been two years of wait
and now when i get you, why are going away straight
I waited for you under the sky
you never came, i won't ask why
even if you go out of this world to stay
i will remember you cos' i am not made of clay
but at least once tell me
that you love me
i know you do obviously
but i wanna hear, please that's a plea
i curse my bloody luck
everytime only my life sucks
even if you won't see me
just turn around n' i will always be free
i will never see you again
you don't know my pain
even if i don't hear you for decades
i will be standing right here under the stars battling all the blades
I Will love you forever
and never dare to forget to you ever
in my love there will be no slack
and i will always imagine you in black
Hope you live a life well lived
and never ever get stiffed
at last when i confessed my love
you are going to fly away like a dove

16, tElling 15

2008-02-26T11:31:00.000+05:30

My transition period is very long for anything, and this time due to this I suffered a huge loss. Two girls (who knew when my birthday comes) asked me my age, and out of habit for a year I told them, "I am 15 years old". They said, "Oh, you are younger than us" and went to their respective directions. They never talked to me again. I was utterly confused, I mean that the girls are also in tenth standard and I am one of the eldest guys in my class (my class consists of only boys, you see it's a boys' school). I gave some thought to the matter and then hit my head with my hindi guide (you see I don't really understand the prescribed textbook). I told the girls that I am 15 years old, even when I turned 16 about a month ago. Wow! the habit of saying 15 years old cost me two friends (and that too girls, now no sick thoughts about me). The girls must be thinking me as a kiddo. Now I am remembering the song '18 till I die'' by Bryan Adams, just a funny thought. Next time a girl asks me my age, I will tell her 16 and not going to die in any way. Also remembering a Britney song 'I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman', course I can't apply this song to myself in any case (I am a boy). I will say I'm not a kid, Not yet an adult (just a teen). It takes a good time for me to get used and aware of the change.

And another thing that I am still living in the previous year. I get in the habit of writing the current year only in the month of April, till then I mostly write the previous year everywhere. Like in my pre-boards I was scolded in every exam for writing 2007 instead of 2008 in the date column. The teacher also went on to say that I don't deserve to give the board examination if I can't remember the year. Gosh! I thought the board checkers had only concern with our mugging and cramming skills.

I pray to god that next time, a girl shouldn't ask me my age but instead ask me my birth year which is 1992(thanks to god it remains constant for me, dunno bout' other people). That's why I love girls who ask me my birth year and not my age(I always end up telling myself younger).

P.S. (only for girls) - I am sixteen and living in 2008.

List two ways of Family Planning.

2008-02-16T11:53:00.000+05:30

1 hour and 10 minutes are left in the examination (you see it's a two and a half hour examination). And I am stuck on the 6th question of the biology section. The question goes like this "List two ways of family planning." Now how am I supposed to know the answer to this question? I am not even an adult, let alone a married person. And from what I know, even a married person would not answer a question like this, so why should I? Don't know what the teachers were thinking when they put this question in the question paper. Sometimes these teachers really stretch our imagination to the limit. If I screw up this paper, I will give the blame to this question. It has distracted me a lot. Instead of using ethanoic acid as a preservative in the pickles, I have been thinking that how would I have planned my family. But what's the advantage? I won't get married, that's for sure. No girl in the right mind would marry a weird guy like me. So why corrupt my tender soul by thinking about family planning. Let alone the barrier methods, contraceptive or the damned IUCDs, I am not going to write this answer any way. I am watching my friends scribbling hard in their answer sheet, they are writing the family planning answer only. From what I can see, the boy sitting in front of me wants 3 kids, the boy sitting besides me wants 8 kids. Gosh, he is planning his family or the whole of the colony. Oh now I remember, our biology teacher said,"The more the kids you will write, the more the marks I will give you" But please mam next time give us a more sensible question.
Lolzz. n' Happy Family Planning.

That mOment

2008-02-15T12:13:00.000+05:30

Everything has something special, a special moment, a special thing but yes absolutely something special. You know what, whenever i am reading a novel, after reading 10-20 pages i read directly it's last page. It is not that i want to know the ending, but just i love the last line of every novel. Because in the last line each writer gives his emotions a very big gap. We can feel the satisfaction of the mind of the writer. It feels very satisfactory to read the last line, it has a magic in itself. I think that is the reason i always remember the last line of most of the novels i read.
We also search that moment in a song, i hear a song for it's 10-15 magical seconds, in which the singer takes my mind and life to a high. But just to listen to those seconds we have to hear the whole song.
Same is with life, we live in this world for the most time just to make a platform for something special. That special thing which defines our life, that moment in which you kiss all your worries away and do something which you always wanted to. Even when you love somebody, there are some moments which you never forget (not that all other moments are waste) but still the magic of the relationship is in only those moments.
I am writing this article and my magical moment in doing this thing was when i wrote the first paragraph of this. You never search those moments, it just comes to you.
Don't live for the bad parts of your life. Don't live for this world because the world doesn't live for you. Live for that special moment and always keep forming a platform for that special moment or thing. As we see a sportsman always have a peak match and we remember him for that only (you see human mind doesn't remembers statistics of anything, it just remembers those heart feelings). Those feelings which touches the soul.

Live, live for your love, for your ambition, for your heart and always for that special moment in which you capture magic...

Good Luck...

Happy Birthday to mE

2008-01-30T18:44:00.000+05:30

It is 11:47 pm of 29th January, and i have switched my cell phone to the vibratory mode, you see tomorrow is my birthday. I have switched my cell to the vibratory mode because i am expecting messages from many people, and i don't want my mum to hear the cell screaming again and again. Not that i don't want to disturb her, but just that i don't want her to come to my room to check out the noise and read my messages (you see i will get messages from many uncensored people).
11:51. My dear friend Arpit just called me to wish me a very happy birthday. I asked him that why he called me 9 minutes earlier, he said his watch is showing 12 of 30th morning. But atleast he called (i was happy for that).
I have been looking forward to the birthday from the evening only, because a female friend of mine asked me my cell number, and she said that she would message me exactly at midnight. So i am just waiting for her message, i planned that i would tell her that she is the first one to wish me, but Arpit's watch destroyed it. Still i will message her something sweet. I think it will be my best birthday because first time a girl will wish me and that also at midnight (atleast it is special for me). And most of my friends now own their own cell phones, so they will also message me, and of course my cousin sister whom i love so much will message me. It is the wishes i love to have, not the gifts. So it will be the special birthday for me. The wishes creates a sense that they remember you.
11:59. I am feeling very elated, but i hope the girl wishes me first.
12:00. Yo 30th January is back after a year. But this will be a special birthday for me. I am waiting for messages. I think they are mid-way in the air.
12:02. No messages till now, i think the strong wind has diverted their path for some time. I will wait.
12:05. No message. Damn it, everyone forgot my birthday, even that girl. Hope she didn't make a fool of me. My dear cousin sister also forgot me and the ultimate, my dear best friends have also forgotten my birthday. But still with a mighty heart i am waiting with my cell in my hand and listening to Linkin Park.
12:17. Her mobile must have gone out of charging. My cousin isn't getting the time, she must be studying hard for her medical year and my dear friends must have slept early after a long hard day in their study room.

Time is now going on. The special moment of my birthday gone with me alone in this room. She didn't message me and they didn't call me either. God please, the next time i meet her please make her speak such an excuse that i would believe her without any second thought. And as to my friends, i am deeply disappointed, for i always remember their birthdays and wish them at midnight. That means i am mad that i always take care in wishing them. I don't want to pass any judgement on my friends only on this wishing case, but still from now i will take less care in remembering their birthdays. I think i am very disappointed because i believed that they would absolutely message me, and not for a moment i thought that the girl would falter in messaging. Failures in absolute expectations do hurt a lot.
Still i will say
Happy Birthday to me and god bless me...

Will I ???

2008-01-25T13:44:00.000+05:30

I watch the waves
listening people's raves
wondering if i will ever
be something called clever
or something tough
and eat my own puff
will i ever get a job
or just get lost in the mob
but i don't want to live
just to eat and give
still the world will take me
with the waves seriously
and i will be like a tree
depended on the world for serosity
thinking people don't survive here
they are called a stupid mare
but what if i don't succeed
in the studying try
and beg for my need
god doesn't gives everyone the same brain
so why do all go to the same drain
why don't we try
something new
why are we so dry
and always in the queue
let's take a novel path
and open our hearts
and take a holy bath
instead of one make individual starts
change the stinking world
and don't allow our mind
to be whirled
and don't get bind
but will i ever be
able to follow
this lecture let's see
cos' inside i am really hollow
hope i wont lose
and do the same
go for the stinking job and try
Will I ???

Good Night

2008-01-25T13:39:00.000+05:30

I am watching the moon being shadowed with my life...

I took out my blanket and in this January cold, covered myself with it. No matter what the weather is, I always switch on the fan. Don't know but the voice of the fan rotating gives me a sense of security. As soon I switch on the fan, I run to my bed and jump into my blanket and cover myself wholly with the blanket, so that the air should not be able to touch me. Lying on the bed I think how I am wasting my mum and dad's money on my worthless books (you see I don't read them) and I feel guilty how I wasted the whole thinking about crap. Damn, it's a bad feeling to think about the time I wasted the whole day.
Sleeping gives me hope, a hope which I tie to myself when I go to sleep. A hope that I will do good tommorrow. That I will be a changed person the next morning. Of course sleeping gives you a false sense of security and you also know that. But for people like me who have nothing except a beautiful and cursed sleep, it's a boon.
After my dreams comes the creeping sounds of the refrigirators, pages ruffling due to the force applied by the fan. I am mostly terrified due to these spooky sounds. I always check if there is a thief in the house even when I know that there's noone.
Next I try to clear the guilt from my mind, but who has ever succeeded in doing that. I tell my brain that sleeping is the most tension-free and the most tension-full time of the day, so try to go away from the damn tension. So with the guilt I reflect on the happy parts of my life, like thinking about the girl I love the most or something similar to that. It's a pleasure to think about it, my brain's elation it is. I just love that feeling. I start concentrating on the dark ceiling, not that I can see it but the position of my head is always at ninety degrees. Watching the dark room, I turn from one side to another very uneasily. But never able to get set on one position, still loving that elation and that moment.
But as I start enjoying that feeling, tiredness creeps over me and envelops me into sleep. A sleep which is broken by my mum every damned morning.
Good Night...

Sleeping time is the only owned time of a loser...

i will hAunt yOu

2008-01-25T13:35:00.000+05:30

I will haunt you till my death
you will not be able to take a single breath
sleep is what you will never get again
this i am assuring you even in this damned pain
i still have the dagger
with which you hit me
still remember the manner
with which you hated me
life will be long for you
and you know you will be killed by who
you never deserved to be loved
because you are a doll full hate stuffed
see me in your dreams
and wake up in damned screams
you killed my crying heart
and ripped my soul apart
i still hear your damned swears
and forgetting my living cheers
i left everything for you
never thought you will do this too
dying to live to remember you
not in a good way
but just
you know what
I will haunt yOu...

cRam it Like nO oNe

2008-01-25T13:30:00.000+05:30

This poem was written by me when my mother started her traditional "OK, now start studying" lecture. The poem fetched me an award in Avant Garde Awards .

Yeah yeah mum learning
the pages are turning
I am sitting here alone
waiting for my clone
Why do i have to learn
when i want to live the real world
and let my brain burn
when i am in a fix and curled
I know learning will bring me bucks
but a slave's life sucks
I wanna observe the sky
and ask myself why
do i have to learn
just to make my life turn
You cram, work and die
become mad, rich and mud
never understood why life is so sly
You never ever wonder
why's life a blunder
God must be in a real thunder
who sent you here to cram under
You think you are cool
cos' you cram like a fool
but the real coolness is in thinking
not just turning the pages and blinking
But i will never be like you
and make my mind like poo
So mum just listen
and come out of the kitchen
that now i will listen to my heart
and not learn just to pull a cart
I want to discover life new
and become one of the few
who dared to be distinctive
and learnt to live their instinctive
I want everything to make my own perspective
and never listen to the others respective
But mum if you still want a crammer
I am sorry and i put the hammer
that you give birth to a new one
who could cram it like no one.

nEw yEar eVe

2008-01-25T13:27:00.000+05:30

Sitting here in my room, I am writing another post for my beloved blog. According to my watch the current time is 9:57, and the date is 31st december 2007. So 2008 is about to come. Today was nothing special as I again ignored my studies for the pre-boards from the morning. At 8:30 in the night my relatives called up my parents so that they together celebrate the new year. My parents went there, you see I refused to go. I love to remain alone in the house at such moments.
I switched on the television, many news channels were showing the celebrations in different parts of the country, people dancing in goa, animals singing in Assam :) and other news channels were showing the recap of this another worthless year. Getting bored of the television, I switched on my PC.
Really I was feeling sad, I don't know but this was a very bad and a very good year for me. Sitting alone in this room, I am feeling very hmm... you can say empty. Very empty. I am missing someone badly. 2007 was very remarkable for me. I betrayed my friends big time and got forgiven from them big time. This year I found that I can also write something. I loved my life for being so ugly and hated it to be so lovely, it's funny but I like the opposites. In studies, I lost a damn lot of acceleration. Gathered too much of experience in life. Even if I didn't study well, I lived my life to the fullest. Got in love, got out of it (that's the bad part). Learnt that everyone is not fair in this world. To say in short it was like a tear from the eye which didn't follow the laws of gravity (and fell to the ground) but like a tear which floated in the air. I lost and gained, that's life, you have to face it.
Sitting I am reflecting how valuable this year, how cute this year. How much I will love this, how will it go to my memory.
My dad just called me, I have to go to my relative's house to celebrate the coming of another new year, to get bored by their talks about my boardz.
Happy New Year again...

Merry New Year n' Happy Christmas!!!

2007-12-29T12:37:00.000+05:30

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Hope you enjoy both the occasions with your family. Have lots of happy times and yeah don't forget to think, think and think.
My new year resolution is to update my blog on most of the days.
But I will publish my next post at 15 January. And I will try to publish as many as 10 blogs in January. But no blogs in February and March as boards are there to eat my head. After March I am wholly yours.
So again a Happy Christmas and Merry New Year.
Only yours,
pUns the blogger.

Jingle bells jingle bells, jingle all the way,
puneet the blogger will come after the boards re...

Tell her

2007-12-29T12:36:00.000+05:30

The smell inside a hospital is always intolerable, and more so when one doesn't knows why he is actually there. I was having supper when my cell-phone rang. Cell phones must have a feature of not receiving calls during dinner.
"Hello"
"May I speak to Mr.Jim?" a thin female voice asked. It was an anxious voice.
"Speaking"
"Mr. Jim, can you please come to the 5th avenue hospital. It may sound insane but I have got no reason for which you should come. I am just asked to call you here urgently." now the tension grew in her voice, she sounded like an employee, but an inexperienced one.
"But" I tried to argue.
"It's urgent. So please come." it was a desperate voice now.
"Is it concerned with any of my realtives or my parents."
"Sir, I told you. I don't know the reason. I am just asked to call you as soon as possible." She hung up. I think she knew that I would obviously come.

Now sitting here in the lobby of the hospital, I am utterly confused.
"Are you Mr.Jim?" that same thin voice asked from my back. I turned around and saw the destroyer of my supper. She was a nurse in her mid-20s.
"Now I know the reason, so can you please come after me" she said. Now I was totally confused. I started walking behind her, but still a dread swept through my head.
This time I didn't ask for the reason but just walked behind her. She turned to the coma chamber of the hospital. The hospital wasn't crowded at that time.
In the coma chamber hall, she pointed towards room no.7.
"You won't come."
She shook her head.
"So I should go alone"
She nodded.
I walked slowly as if I was going to see some type of a monster in that room.
I pushed the door staring at the white floor, and when I looked up I saw a man of my same age but I wasn't able to recognise him.
He was looking really weak as if nearing his death, his bones of face were evident, and there was very little flesh remaining on his face.
I had seen him somewhere.
"I knew you would come, Jim. You always trust other people's words and come to help." he was speaking with a effort, but I knew this voice.
I knew this voice very well. I wasn't able to beleive Ian in such a pitiable condition. That handsome shaven face, most logical person of our management training, that lean and athletic body. I met him two years before. We were good friends but never great friends.
But I still remember that day when only I stood up for him against a very rich bully in our second year. The bully threatened to thrash him, and he was in process to do that in front of the students, when I came to his rescue. Ian was strong at that but still the bully had much more flesh in his arms. I knew it would be humilating for him to get beaten in front of all the students. I felt that for him, and saved him from a beating that day. I just supported him by distracting the bully.
I just remember a sentence he said to me that day "A friend is the one who comes in when the whole world has gone out." It wasn't a big deal for me to help him, but only the small things that make a big deal.
"What has happened to you Ian, can't beleive you are in such a bad condition. At first I wasn't able to recognize you man!" I said in a small voice. I was just terrified to see him in such a condition, what can possibly happen to this tall hunk?
"Cancer" that voice was strong but horrifying, I had only heard that voice when my family doctor diagnosed my brother of severe mental disability. It had a touch of courage.
"What?" nothing more than that came from my mouth, i was just not able to speak for a few seconds. After a few seconds he broke the silence.
"Hey don't be so silent, you know I hate silence. If you will react so silently, how will she react." he told me, but now why did he have to talk about Kate, I know he loved her like anything. For him Kate was the ultimate aim. Kate was a fellow student in our management course. She was pretty and the most kind hearted person I ever met. I never really talked to her like a friend, but it was like that with me with most of the female fellows.
"Who Kate?" I asked even when I knew.
"Yes, I called you here so that I can tell you something which you will tell her after I die. I have not much time left and not much energy also. The chemotherapy has drained me of my life." he said again in that terrying and strong voice.
"Don't say that Ian, you are the liveliest person I have ever seen." I retorted.
"But now this cancer is draining me of life. We are lively till we beleive. Life plays games with us and we sometimes have to react strongly to the life's moves in the game." he told me in a familiar teacher voice. He is a teacher, Ian is.
"Leave it, what do you want me to tell Kate?" I really wanted to know this.
"Tell her that it was I who always kept chocolates at her desk in our university." I knew Kate just loved chocolates.
"Tell her it was I who sent those mysterious notes of Trans-cycle management in our first year." now those notes were a decidor for most of our grades.
"Tell her It was me who always wrote poems for her and kept them in her duffel bag."
"Tell her it was me who gifted her that notebook in which I wrote what I felt about her." I still remember Ian writing that notebook with different pens. But when he kept that notebook in Kate's bag, he didn't write his name.
"Tell her that I always dream of her when I sleep." he choked when he said this, he started again.
"Tell her it was me who fought with those bullies for her." Ian broke fingers in that fight, so that Kate could live in peace.
"Tell her that I lost the speech competition intentionally only to see her smiling." that day was mysterious because even after losing the speech competition Ian was very happy. Now I know why.
"Tell her that I cried the whole night after we passed out from the management course."
"Tell her that everytime she smiled, I lived a life."
"Tell her that I like it when she makes that confusing face. I just love that expression of her." his voice was deteorating, but I didn't stop him from saying what he wanted to say all these years.
"Tell her that it was I who explained her parents of allowing her to work in the Rockies' Department Store." her parents were against her of joining such a bad occupation but Kate wanted some experience.
"Tell her she is the most pretty girl in this world, and that it was I who sent her the cosmetic products which she liked so much."
"Tell her that I sent her the romantic novels which she liked so much."
"Tell her it was me who lent a kidney to his brother, because I wasn't able to see her so sad and depressed."
"What the hell, you lent Whitley your kidney. Ian do you know that a single kidney is one of the most key-factors of cancer." I said after a long time, well I shouted in reality. But how can he risk his life.
"Tell her that the last word of my life was" his voice trailed.
"First answer me Ian, how can you risk your life? How can you?" i was trembling.
"Kate..." he stopped and his life ended. I shook my body to close his eyes, then I realised that I had been standing during the whole time we talked. He died, Ian Strieber died that January night. I just wasn't able to take it through my throat. But I wasn't crying for him, I don't know but I felt like laughing out loud. Yeah it was true grief, I loved Ian for that moment the greatest. I had heard many times 'Love kills' but now understood it somehow. For her brother, he died. For the sake of dying, he died. For love, he died...

Next day I called Kate and asked her for a drink in Broncho's Cafe. I didn't tell her about the death of Ian, but I knew what Ian wanted me to tell her.
"So after a long time we are meeting." she came from behind where I was sitting. She looked as if she had used one of the cosmetic sets Ian gifted her. She was pretty. And her eyes were the best.
"So anything special or something else." she was always straight forward.
"I just want to tell you something. Ian loved you and he died last night. If you don't beleive me just read this page in which it's written what he never wanted you to know." I choked as I finished the last sentence, it was the first time after Ian's death that tears flowed on my face. I looked towards Kate. She took the page and stood up, she didn't even say bye. She was crying, I saw that. I never saw or heard from her after that day.
Even after so many years I still wonder why did Ian choose me to tell everything to Kate. But then it's the small things that make a big deal.

Täke the Ầnimắl out of you

2007-12-29T12:35:00.000+05:30

We all have a beast inside us, a rage which when unleashed can do wonders or throw thunders. A beast which not many people try to take out of their souls. This beast is nothing but anger, rage, agitation which we get from the many wrong things which are done to us. We are cheated, beaten. People stress us emotionally, we live in depression. We try to forgive the people who do this to us. But each time we are cheated or beaten or betrayed, an animal takes form inside us. Just try to recall the last time you were betrayed or cheated, you will find that before thinking of forgiving that person, first you must have thought of tearing that person out. It's a natural feeling, a feeling which starts growing from the first time we are betrayed. Not many of us do anything else except forgiving that person. We don't take out our frustrations, that frustrations starts growing like a tumour in our body and more betrayals feed it regularly. Just try recalling many incidents in which your heart was hurt because of someone else, I am sure you will feel like throwing all the things out of the room in which you are sitting.

Most of us have learnt to tame this feeling, we have packed this feeling inside many of the corners of our brain. And when this animal of bad feelings is unleashed, it really destroys many lives. If it is unleashed you will have no control over your mind, you will just think of destroying everything. It will destroy your mind (remember the girls in the movies who don't get their love, see the way they become mad, those maddening eyes, those pitiful hair) you lose yourself like anything. But if we are a very balanced person in our minds, we can turn this energy, animal in our favour. For this we have to think about all our betrayers and then just vow to show them our worth, to show them that what they did to us was wrong. To do the hell with them, we vow or owe die. It's our life, how dare they make us an animal.

We live in a society, a society in which respects only a mannered person is respected, but we should never be afraid to show our true self. Our true self. My true self. Just throw out your frustrations, don't be afraid. If you won't at that moment itself, then you will have only two choices to make - to die or to vow and i tell you the latter one is amazing but very difficult.

So it's your choice you unleash your animal at that moment of betrayal or be a society person.

Your choice.

What do you think we should do - unleash the animal at that moment or wait and die a coward's death???

Live the moments in which you really live!!!

2007-12-29T12:34:00.000+05:30

'Don't waste your time. Go and study'
'Yup'

Just think if you are playing with your pen, reading the most idiotic novel of the century, watching a dog licking his beloved bone from the balcony.
Are you wasting your time???

Well if you think that by doing some things you are wasting your time, then you are wrong. Utterly wrong...

Yeah everything you do, it's not waste. It's like living a life in itself. Living for the something you are doing. Nothing in this world done is waste of time. Even when you play with a pen, you train your fingers to catch something fast, you quicken the response of your brain. Even when you betray your friend, you come to know of the consequences of betraying a friend (now, don't get emotional and start betraying your friends). When you do something it trains your brains. It teaches your brain to respond to specific thing. It can be good or bad, but always remember " EVERYTHING IN LIFE DONE IS NEVER WASTE"

It's an experience to the brain.

It is just that our society gives importance to very less things. But that doesn't means that other things are waste of time. Even when you are lying on your bed and gazing on the floor and thinking, you are doing something worthwhile. Just don't be too affected by what others say. Do what you like the most, just do it...

Be your own king and never think of anything as a waste of time...

If you disagree with me, then tell me...

Happy = Sad it's nothing but neutral

2007-12-29T12:26:00.000+05:30

The only law this world follows is equilibrium!!!

Yeah the equation and the quotation is quite correct, this world is in equilibrium. Just imagine you achieve something, you are happy. But someone else is sad, just sitting out on his porch he is sad and even crying. Your degree of happiness is equal to the degree of his sadness. And deep in your heart you are also sad for that person.
Even if you deserve that achievement, you are still sitting on your couch and thinking why didn't that person deserved the achievement. Why? Why you?
And that's it. You are there sad, and after reading this if you think, "Why the hell should I care about that other person" then you will get sad by thinking that how did you become so ignorant towards other people.
And when you are sad, you try to overcome that sadness by doing something that will make you happy. In our life we always curb for balance, for equilibrium. We want to live a very balanced life. Our happines is our sadness. Our doom is our life.
Even this universe follows, just see the atoms. The electrons and protons are like happiness and sadness (you see they keep changing or transferring) but the neutrons are always constant in an atom. You can't change the number of neutrons in an atom.
So what do you think.

Is h@ppiness = s@dness???

What say???

tHose tHree hOurs of eXaMination !!!

2007-11-27T17:32:00.000+05:30

As I enter the school, I see many boys with heads drowned in the books, these are those boys who haven't studied for the whole session(I know this because I am also one of them), these boys aren't revising but reading things they haven't read ever before.Some boys are happily chatting with their friends, and surprisingly all the toppers aren't revising but just standing alone in between swarms of students. They aren't talking to anyone in the fear that they will lose their concentration and as a result their carefully mugged up crap!!!

But in reality noone is really able to study and the most frequently asked question is not related to the subject of the exam but,"Hey tere studies to complete ho gaye hogi" and the boy responds in a very sweet voice,"Arre ham padte hi kahan hain."

Then the teachers start screaming,"Keep your books inside the bag." But only teacher fearing students keep their books in the bags and the others hide them in well-planned places on their bodies. The prayer starts, instead of saying the lyrics of the prayer the boys start asking questions related to the chapter of the subject to the boy in front of him, but their voice is mostly drowned in the chorus of the prayer.

Students start lining up in front of the respective classes. And as their materials for the examination comes out of their boys, the teachers start coming to their assigned classes and then & there itself many of the boys come to know about their results without even facing the examination(you see if the teacher is strict then cheating is impossible, and if the teacher is lenient, then even a failure will get 60% marks)

Enter the class, we take our seats after going to check out the saets of other friends(it's not really checking out but last time revisions, and the thing here is that the last thing we ask our friends is the thing we best remember!!!). Question papers are distributed, and as soon each boy gets the question paper, he sees the boy in the next row and makes a very sympathetic face, as if the answers to those questions will cost his life.

tRnngg... tRnngg... tRnngg...

The bell rings for the exam. We scribble our names on the answer sheet and then forget to fill the set of the question paper, and when the teacher asks the boy in the front bench to fill the SET of the question paper that we remember to fill it. After scribbling the name, the first hour starts. For the last minute studying students, it is an hour mainly to yawn. They do very less of their paper. Some even put their heads on the desk and then write. For the toppers, it's an hour to complete the paper as much as they can(they know the crap na, we don't!!!). In the first I always try to concentrate hard, and mostly I am successful but a sneak here and there is irrestitable(these sneaks are not meant for cheating but to see how much have the others competed!!!).

tRnngg... tRnngg... tRnngg...
The bell rings for the second hour...

This hour is alloted for the students to go to the toilet. But in reality only the non-studying students go to the toilet(right guess-for asking answers from the students of other classes, but as both students ask questions they don't know in the toilet, both of them end up only in knowing each other's questions). Every time a boy asks to go out for toilet, I look up to see who the student is. And another thing here is that many students come back to other classes instead of their own and that is the only time in the examination that we laugh. In the second hour my thoughts mostly drift to the can be days after the examination ends, my girlfriend, to the girls I have a crush on. It's a funny hour, it's the most lovable hour in the examination. In this hour mostly all the boys start to understand the gravity of an exam, and they scribble hard. But I scribble very moodily and I ponder over the questions but mostly I end up pondering over girls.

tRnngg... tRnngg... tRnngg...
The bell rings for the third hour...

As soon as the bell rings, most of the boys wake up from their question papers as if they have waken up from a dream. Their are voices,"Oh shit". This hour is alloted for meaningless scribbling, no thinking(because their is no time to). In this hour I wake up and write incomplete answers. If a senior boy is sitting besides me in the exam, I ask him the questions but not many of them are able to answer what they had learnt earlier(even I am not able to answer if a junior asks me!!!). Boys ask,"What's the time ma'am) at regular intervals to the teachers. The hilarious thing is that they ask time so often that I am able to predict the time myself( but then as I said there is no time to think). All are tense and they sneak in each other's papers(this time not to see how much they have done but to see how much they can do in their paper). Extra sheets are taken and the teacher is not able to go so many areas at the same time, so here the students cheat at the back of the teachers.

The warning bell rings

All scribble the last minute answers. They check out their papers(to see if there is something correct written in it, i mean wrong in it).

tRnngg... tRnngg... tRnngg...
The bell rings. Exam finished. Terror gone. We are aLive. Yo but no.

"Shit, very bad paper. How was yours?" Most boys say this.
"O.K, very O.K but i am sad that i lost one mark in the grammar section" Toppers say this and the answer to this,"Really i think i gained only one mark in the paper".

We discuss the question papers and make sarcastic remarks about the teachers who have made the papers. Most of the boys are overjoyed not because their paper was O.K but because another hurdle is gone. After exams freedom.We go outside the hall and take our bags. Out to our homes for the preparation of the next examination.

People say," Examinations are very important". But for me the time before and after the examination is very important.

Examinations need patience and I never had it. I have lost my patience, I have lost my winning ways in the examination. I am lost in this ocean of life and in the galaxy of death.

What do you say?
What are examinations for you and how do you really pass your time in the examinations.
Tell me. Please...
If something is missing from my sweet account of an examination, please tell me...

And yeah hats off to all the cheaters in the examination. It requires much more courage to cheat than to mug up silly crap.

fRiends bUt no lOve

2007-11-27T17:24:00.000+05:30

Yesterday when I was reading a newspaper, I read that when a boy and girl become friends, they mostly end up loving each other, so I have written a stupid poem for it.

Hey my dear sweet friend
let us break this trend
of falling in love
like a sweet dove
We will talk endlessly
walk over the seas carelessly
You have a knack of getting into trouble
so after solving it we'll play rubble
I always see you through the corner of my eyes
but i know that on friendship there's no price
hope you understand me the best
and our friendship will take care of the rest
I will wipe your tears
and then say cheers
Always be happy
but don't be too creepy
Never be sad
for it is very bad
I can't see you disheartened
because my heart gets shortened
We will be great friends
but let's pledge we will never fall in love
hope when i die you'll be at my side
accepting my death in your stride
i love you my friend
i love you
but then
let us break this trend
of falling in love
like a sweet dove...

sΉe is mŶ bEst fRieNd dAyd

2007-11-21T14:25:00.000+05:30

Friendship isn't a big thing - it's a million little things.

i hAve a fRiend whO taught me how to enjoy life and as yoU knOw friends aRe special, sHe is tHe moSt speCial friEnd I have. sHe is mY bEst frIend i havE chOsen a nickname for hEr frOm hEr nicKnAme. tHe nIckname iS dAyd. I havE wriTten a poem fOr heR. hOpe you lIke it dAyd.

She is my best friend
From end to end
When I chat with her
I am filled with laughter
She is so innocent
But also very eminent
She loves music
and knows many tricks
She is a great prankster
But I am also a gangster
She is a sweetheart
Just like a pumpkin tart
She is a scholli
And also a folly
She is the best girl in her town
And looks like a clown
She is a beautiful scarlett
And loves chocolates
You are my best friend dayd
You are
I am afraid I will lose you
But U should know you will never lose me
I love you dayd like anything
Because you are my bEst friend

From end to end…

i Will lOse heR i am... dEad

2007-11-14T11:41:00.000+05:30

"I lOve yOu" - Boy

"I tOO" - Girl

aNd froM here starts the dread in the minds of the loVers thAt one mistake in his/her behaviour can be disasterous. We fear that we will lose our lover. I too loved a girl and instead of enjoying the moment I was in this fear that I will lose her, and due to this I nearly lost her. Yeah whatever we do, it is a constant feeling of dread... Your heart skips whenever she/he is angry. You die many times when you are in love... But then it's worth it also. And in most of the cases, you lose your love due to your love. It's a very pathetic(this word is dedicated to my best friend) feeling. You just like to sink. You start thinking how can you lose her. It's bad, but I think it's a trauma through which everyone goes. But we have to come out of it. Or we will be lost in the sea of dread. Try to love without the dread of love.

Once my friend said"If the other person also loves you then why are you so worried"

But it isn't really like that. It is our brain that shows us the possibilities of losing him/her.

Has anyone loved without dread???

If yes then please tell me...

Please...

It hurtSSS yeAh loving huRtssss

2007-11-14T11:03:00.000+05:30

yOu love someone, you care for that person, you protect that person. bUT in the night when you go to sleep you are guilty and you are hurt. You know that you are literally cheating that person by loving him/her.
We have got many secrets in life which we can't tell to anyone. We can't even bear to think about those secrets and when you keep these secrets from your love, you feel guilty. You know that you are cheating a person who can give his/her life for you. But then this is life. You won't agree with me but in your heart you never really want to love. Never. Never. Even the hardest heart knows that it will be cheating someone by simply loving that someone.

That's why I don't agree with Chuck Spezzano whose book says
" If it hurts then it isn't love "

With whom do you agree Chuck or me.
Just tell!!!

wHy dO wE lOveee??? why?????

2007-11-14T09:30:00.000+05:30

"I am in love"

Cool if you are in love, then enjoy alone and suffer alone. We see so many break-ups and all that in this small world of ours, our friends' break-ups. But still we go looking for love. Love is not a very complex thing as people say. For me it's just a state in which we are a bit of drunkard and think about a complex organic body again and again. We don't have control on our thoughts. And after all if going by the figures a staggering 97% homo sapiens are never able to get their true love. Do we love to get rejected and even if we get our love don't get me wrong but most of us aren't satisfied from a single love. We need more love. That's it, we look out for love for the whole life. During love, we become stagnant type humans. There is no progress in that period of our lives. People say love is life and finding love is the greatest challenge. I say remaining away from love is the biggest challenge in our life. Why spend your time in impressing your love. I can be wrong. But you can say that we lose more than we gain in love.

What say???

And then why do we cry in loVe??? Why???

I bet that not many people would even think of crying before falling in love...
But then we are humans, we can never learn from other's mistakes

Once I also fell in love...

wE laUgh when we cRy!!!

2007-11-13T15:42:00.001+05:30

A pErson is normal enough until He stArts cryiNg serIously !!!

Thomas Hardy

Yeah in a sense, this is very true. Just recall when you last cried ( hInT: when your mum scolded you, when you fought with your friend or when you lost something)

I also noted this very thing, it is very stupid to think, but when we cry we just laugh at ourselves. OK to illustrate this just take this case, when you are crying you make promises to yourself and then you just start to laugh at yourself or to the person who makes you cry. Your brain laughs at you. You don't want to laugh but in your heartyou feel an elation. Your insides start churning when you cry and you are laughing at that moment from inside. It's like that your heart is crying and your brain is laughing at your heart's stupidity. I don't think it is happiness, but it is a more of a mock laughter. Just try to find out from your experiences what it can be.

And the last thing, you are very ashamed when you are feeling that elation in your body...

Got any ideas what it is???

wEll gals aNd gUys tOdAy aT mA dEsk in tHe skOOl I wroTe a disaster

2007-07-28T22:06:00.000+05:30

wEll today in ma enGlish period in da skool i felt like dozing off but i stood ma ground and wrote a disaster or in simple language enGlish 'A POEM'. it's about a gangster who realises his gunny mistakes. It goes like dis

It seems I am scattered all over again
can't think of my vainI am full of love and hateful pain
What could I do, my heart, my vain
Let me leave this world in acidic rain
For my friends don't know I am in so much shame
I still remember her pretty face
To kill her I wanted to race
She was so pale, so frail
But I wanted the cash so I went to nail
When she saw me with her justful eyes
I realised that I was miles back in the world and in the tail
I have learnt never to love anyone
But in her face I saw something for everyone
I tried to hate her from my bloodshot eyes
But really in vain were all my tries
I started loving her from my blackened heart
I really wanted to be one of her part
Something in my brain told me to kill her.
And inside my heart I will always be a gangster.

wELl no ending for this poem till now you can give some suggestions

rEallY sKool teAcherS sHud cHanGe thEir AttituDe

2007-07-25T23:08:00.000+05:30

yOu know what guys skool teachers now have become very partial. Don't know what they think of themselves. Judging a child by his percentage. Is it the right thing to do I don't think so. I think teachers should be considerate of every need of a child. A 90% doesn't means the best guy of the class.Of course it's not the mistake of the guy who gets 90%. I think we should try to do something. We should start to hate such partial teachers.
So boyz and galz what do you think we should do???? Well to tell you wat many of ma friends are 90 percentier so don't wanna offend dem.

Wanna become a pirate!!!

2007-07-25T21:12:00.000+05:30

From the day I have heard about Bermuda Triangle, I heck wanna become a pirate. Really rolling over the seas will be me Puneet. With a dirty pirate cap on I will try to rule the world. Hope you help me become a pirate or I will attack u first. Sometimes I think I think I should run away from India because there is no scope for budding pirates like me here.