Confessions of a Born Spectator

What’s that word again? …con…con…con…condom!

2011-12-20T22:17:00.001+05:30

Wonders will never cease!

We all have our weird days, and I had another one of mine recently when my five girlies who are by the way in their early twenties, said to me, “We’ve heard about it, but have never seen one and… don’t really know how it works!”

Well, what is it?

….A Condom!

So they didn’t know the C of condoms. Now that’s a bit shocking, especially for someone who has been in the condom and safe sex promotion business for a while, talking about it all day and fetching a salary from it (yeah!). Their revelation almost had me knocked down and if ignorance is bliss, as some say, it can come with a baby or a deadly virus.

For full article on the BBC World Service Trust website click here.

Leased Spaces

2010-05-20T05:25:00.001+05:30

From a leased space to another it moves,

The soul perches, pining for mountainous hues,

Dwells in castles and bleeding towns,

Tasting tears and mending frowns.

Apropos it searches not for dunes,

Its eye hurts and braves misfortunes,

It searches for a distant relief,

Knowing that it’s but a mirage and sore belief

Though searching is never a refuge,

The lusty creed towers too huge,

Showing from behind the veil,

But, it always seeks for the grail.

Alas! The dainty soul,

Wouldn’t belong to any pole,

No patch or sky, no south, no mighty north;

Poor soul, shall ever be seeking forth.

Making me see my own light

2010-03-28T21:50:00.004+05:30

Extracts from Kahlil Gibran’s romantic letters to a woman, taken from the book Love Letters from a Prophet, Ediouro

10/03/1912

Mary, my dear Mary, how could you think that you are giving me more pain than joy? Nobody knows for sure what the line is between pain and pleasure; I often think it’s impossible to separate them. You give me so much joy that it hurts, and you cause me so much pain that I get to smile.

08/07/1914

I always thought that when someone understands us, they end us enslaving us because we expect everything to be understood. However, understanding has brought me peace and freedom more profound than I’ve ever experienced. In the two hours of your visit, you found a black spot in my heart, and touched him, and it disappeared forever- making me see my own light.

18/04/1915

The days we were together were magnificent. When we talk about the past, we become more real in the present and future. For many years, I dreaded to look at what I had lived, and suffered in silence. Today I understood that silence makes us suffer more deeply. But you make me talk, and I find dusty things hiding in my soul, which I then pull away.

17/07/1915

We are both trying to touch the limits of our existence. The great poets of the past always worked themselves to Life.

They were looking for something specific, or trying to uncover secrets; they simply let their souls be overwhelmed by emotions. People are always seeking security, and sometimes do, but safety is an end to itself, and life has no end.

Poets are not those who write poetry, but are those whose hearts are filled with the holy spirit of love.

10/05/1916

Dear Mary: I am sending a parable that I finished. I have written little, and only in Arabic. But I would like to hear your corrections and suggestions on this passage:

In the shadow of a temple, my friend pointed out a blind man.

My friend said, “This man is a wise man.”

I approached, and asked, “How long have you been blind?”

“Since I was born.”

“I am an astronomer,” I said.

“Me too,” the man answered. And placing his hand on his chest, said, “I spend my life watching the many suns and stars that move in me.”

My only effort here was to type Gibran's words; words that are more than just words.

Flight not false

2010-02-20T20:12:00.000+05:30

With a reasoned stab
A self confessed sinister
Took flight below the sea
To change the unknown

Lesser did he know
That the wind was sharp
Right with a knife
To tear his heart

The seagull had a throat
A throat that pained
Not the salty wind
But the tears unkind

The matter didn't reflect
The thought grew too
But change never came
And wind became lead.

Hours passed and minutes remained
Though later 'twas named
The blow was not a blow
But a love in disguise

Liaison

2010-01-10T20:49:00.003+05:30

A cynical gaze into a cotton heart,

Questions asked grieving too hard.

Maketh me low with alphabetical blow;

Alas! THE emotion is sung, though so slow.

Greater the agony, higher my strife,

Higher the bitters, sharper my knife.

Come what may, life has revealed;

You are that which you concealed.

हज़ारों ख़्वाहिशें ऐसी कि हर ख़्वाइश पे दम निकले

2010-01-08T10:53:00.005+05:30

हज़ारों ख्वाहिशें ऐसी की हर ख्वाहिश पे दम निकले,

बहुत निकले मेरे अरमान लेकिन फिर भी कम निकले ।

निकलना खुल्द से आदम का सुनते आये हैं लेकिन,

बहुत बेआबरू हो कर तेरे कूचे से हम निकले ।

मुहब्बत में नही है फर्क जीने और मरने का,

उसी को देख कर जीते हैं जिस काफिर पे दम निकले ।

ख़ुदा के वास्ते पर्दा ना काबे से उठा ज़ालिम,

कहीं ऐसा ना हो यां भी वही काफिर सनम निकले ।

क़हाँ मैखाने का दरवाज़ा 'ग़ालिब' और कहाँ वाइज़,

पर इतना जानते हैं कल वो जाता था के हम निकले।

- ग़ालिब

I am my origin

2010-01-03T18:47:00.005+05:30

A radical shot
Out of a wild seed
In a scant wilderness
The dicot it was
Nurtured not
Just grew without concern.

It then became a shrub
Without knowing its fate
Why did it grow?
An immortal green.

The air had life
It nursed the green hard
Taught it pride.
The green became a tree.

The immortal it was
Blessed by cruel fate
Overshadowed all smiles
The change never came.

The tree overgrew
Into a wild beast
Engulfed every bit
Oh! No trace of hope.

The beast brought tears
Was unequal to none
Neither acknowledged blood
Nor anybody's love.

Until that one day
When eternity knocked
Asked the wild beast
Where did it come from?

The beast all set
The darling crook he was
Answered in no regret
"My genesis is unreasoned love".

RainS, RhymeS and RuinS

2009-11-23T21:57:00.011+05:30

And there I walked again, past my cozy shell

Inside the world in Rain, turning the haze off

The drops too small, moistening my mane
Not just that, too low did they fall
The earth puffed up, looking so rough

Promised me a walk, on that familiar lane.

I walked past the known, right with myself,
Wondering too hard, are reasons insane?
The drop grew heavier, the Earth so full
Almost snatched the veil, that draped the bodice self

It slapped my face hard, refusing to be lame
The moment proclaimed, a thought inside the skull.

The matter never reflected, not at least too often

The drops in that hour, proved to be a solace

The life within the water, water within the shrine

Drops bearing clarity, preaching me a chapter.
As I stared too hard, deeper into the space

The drop seemed clear, like the thoughts divine.

The lines that were out, dispersed into colours
Seven wasn't the count, not that they were dull

The questions that remained, indifferent & profane

Not to me of course, but to the fellow strollers

Rarity overpowered and it wasn't a lull.
How did this ever happen? And it wasn't inane.

Theories are words, words are sham

When they sprout without a reason
I knew it wasn't me, it was the holy Other

Anyone but me, and every other glance
Wondering if they mean, anything but treason
If not the person, is it there to bother?

Facade

2009-08-15T23:05:00.003+05:30

"Why not?", she asked.

"I don't have an inspiration. I had you before, but not anymore", he replied.

"So what different did I do then?"

(She never got her answer)

She told herself: When they were together she didn't do anything that could have added any value to him or his life in anyway. She thought so. She's still the same from what she thinks. And now that they are no more together, she doesn't see a difference in her actions as compared to the previous times. So what made the difference? What changed?

Nothing from her side, she thought. It was him who made the difference. It was his sole perception and image of her that changed and made the difference. His perception was different then, it voluntarily changed later. He believed her to be someone then, but not anymore. Though she's still the same from her side, to him, to herself.

He thought she was his muse, but that's past now. It's all about him and she's no where. Not that she's complaining, but only wondering that was she ever significant to him as a person or was she just an image that had a purpose? An image unaware of her own significance, if any. An image that was created by a mind to be discarded one day.

Just an image, a reflection.

The answer doesn't matter now.

The Moon

2009-08-04T09:06:00.015+05:30

And, like a dying lady lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The mood arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

--
P. B. Shelley

'N' things going through my gray matter...

2009-07-02T21:24:00.015+05:30

There's no reason why on this galaxy am I writing this except for one that I have lost my pen.

I have had a fairly heavy day and I am sleepy and I don't care if this blog should be read.

Never mind.. (Actually, I have been using this expression too much of late..don't know why)

So essentially, here goes a list of thoughts/feelings I'm thinking/feeling right now. This list is dedicated to all those who are knowingly or unknowingly THE reason.

1. I feel sleepy.
2. I think I'll never fall in love.
3. I feel people are not obliged to do anything for me.
4. I don't want to regret my actions, sadly I do.
5. I want to learn how not to expect from people I care about.
6. I feel sleepy and I am deliberately typing it twice.
7. I despise flattery.
8. I believe, those who posses authority should also posses humility.
9. There's no option to hard work.
10. Delay is undesirable.
11. I can spend my entire life holding onto hope and faith. I thank a sweetheart for that.

I'm going mental...

Peace

(PS: Play The Diary of Jane for effect..!!)

God is faith and NOT reason

2009-05-31T17:31:00.004+05:30

An atheist professor of philosophy speaks to his class on the problem science has with God, The Almighty. He asks one of his new students to stand and.....

Prof: So you believe in God?
Student: Absolutely, sir.
Prof: Is God good?
Student: Sure. Prof: Is God all-powerful?
Student: Yes.
Prof: My brother died of cancer even though he prayed to God to heal him. Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. But God didn't. How is this God good then? Hmm?

(Student is silent.)

Prof: You can't answer, can you? Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?
Student: Yes.
Prof: Is Satan good?
Student: No.
Prof: Where does Satan come from?
Student: From...God.. .
Prof: That's right. Tell me son, is there evil in this world?
Student: Yes.
Prof: Evil is everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything. Correct?
Student: Yes.
Prof: So who created evil?

(Student does not answer.)

Prof: Is there sickness? Immorality ? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things exist in the world, don't they?
Student: Yes, sir.
Prof: So, who created them?

(Student has no answer.)

Prof: Science says you have 5 senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Tell me, son...Have you ever seen God?
Student: No, sir.
Prof: Tell us if you have ever heard your God?
Student: No, sir.
Prof: Have you ever felt your God, tasted your God, smelt your God? Have you ever had any sensory perception of God for that matter?
Student: No, sir. I'm afraid I haven't.
Prof: Yet you still believe in Him?
Student: Yes.
Prof: According to empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your GOD doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?
Student: Nothing. I only have my faith.
Prof: Yes. Faith. And that is the problem science has.
Student: Professor, is there such a thing as heat?
Prof: Yes.
Student: And is there such a thing as cold?
Prof: Yes...
Student: No sir. There isn't. (The lecture theatre becomes very quiet with this turn of events.)
Student: Sir, you can have lots of heat, even more heat, superheat, mega heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat. But we don't have anything called cold. We can hit 458 degrees below zero which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold . Cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it .

(There is pin-drop silence in the lecture theatre.)

Student: What about darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as darkness?
Prof: Yes. What is night if there isn't darkness?
Student: You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light.....But if you have no light constantly, you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? In reality, darkness isn't. If it were you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?
Prof: So what is the point you are making, young man?
Student: Sir, my point is your philosophical premise is flawed.
Prof: Flawed? Can you explain how?
Student: Sir, you are working on the premise of duality. You argue there is life and then there is death, a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one.To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life: just the absence of it. Now tell me, Professor.Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?
Prof: If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, yes, of course, I do.
Student: Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?
(The Professor shakes his head with a smile, beginning to realize where the argument is going.)
Student: Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you not a scientist but a preacher?

(The class is in uproar.)

Student: Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the Professor's brain? (The class breaks out into laughter.)
Student: Is there anyone here who has ever heard the Professor's brain, felt it, touched or smelt it? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain,sir. With all due respect, sir, how do we then trust your lectures, sir?
(The room is silent. The professor stares at the student, his face unfathomable. )
Prof: I guess you'll have to take them on faith, son.
Student: That is it sir... The link between man & God is FAITH. That is all that keeps things moving & alive...

The student was none other than APJ Abdul Kalam, the former president of India.

A silent word in a silent world…

2009-04-06T17:08:00.003+05:30

This had to come, but not so early,
Time was all it needed may be.
Believe you me, I took my time,
But I’m sorry if it came so fast.

To protect you from the hurt of affection;
To protect you from the clouds of illusion,
I say,
I don’t.
I’m sorry.
I’m not hurt.
But the fear prevails,
What if and but.

Would things change?
Or remain the same?
Would there be a void?
An unsaid divide?
Or should I be hopeful, as you say?
And witness the change at the bay?

Hope never dies.
Love prevails.
Muse remains.
Respect shines.

What more?
With a companion in my eye,
I said it all
In silence, of course.

Whenever wherever, we're meant to be together!!

2008-12-16T21:28:00.015+05:30

Date: 16th December
Venue: PDA park, Ansal plaza
Events: Semester Examinations; History of Journalism paper
Annual College Fest, Ullas

I chose Ansal Plaza’s PDA Park (not DDA...!) for two reasons. First, it’s close to my college and it takes 15 minutes to reach there. Second, it’s an ultimate peaceful place. Oh lord! I so much wish there were no waspish ‘touchy’ people in this universe. So, essentially, in spite of being an ultimately chillar park, I and my friend Aditi mutually decided on Ansal Plaza’s PDA Park to revise our hysterical History of Journalism notes. We acted intelligent for a simple reason that it was our annual college fest, a big event and so, the library was closed and the college was full of life and noise. So, Ansals was the only option around.

As we entered, there were guys and girls all over. Some were hiding behind the bushes, some under the trees. The trees and bushes were not that dense, so may be they didn’t know that their deeds were very much visible. Kisses and wild smooches are not a history there until the ones so intently involved, listen to a deliberate coughing (I proudly interrupted a couple today...!) get conscious and push the pause button. So, anyways, I and my friend proceeded.

While we were searching for a sunny place (my priority) to rest our bags and ourselves, we came across some more gross realities of humanness. I won’t go into much detail. After much ado and fuss we discovered an amazing place to STUDY; our sole motive of going there, I realized. We were to write a paper in the next 3 hrs. We separated then. I chose to sit and mug, whereas she walked around and revised.

A bull shaped guy in red sweater entered the park with his alleged girlfriend. He had a McDonalds burger in his hands and he already looked like a scarier version of a stuffed teddy 'bear'. His girlfriend looked proportionally malnourished. Both of them made postures. The boy slept on the grass. He was interrupted by a female security guard. He slept on his girlfriend’s lap. He was warned again. She slapped him with affection. He smoked. The guardess reiterated her warning, this time almost like a threat. There were signs of affection in the air. Guardess again. They left.

Phew….

We were studying, with our eyes open, obviously. It was cold outside, but very pleasant.

Not to forget others who were trying to catch attention. There was a horrific strain of Himesh Reshammiya with his equally sickening counterpart. Then there was a girl with two chaps; one, a mini Tere Naam and the other, a slimmer and lighter Akon with a hood. There was also a pink sweater busy reading newspaper and another guy waiting for someone. He left after sometime. I was observing everyone keenly along with studying James Silk Buckingham.

Meanwhile, the intensity of PDA’s increased in the vicinity. I ignored and carried on with the history. History was driving me crazy. The place was altogether peaceful with subtle blatancies. Three hours passed. I completed my notes, so did my friend and we left happily ever after.

Moral of the story:

Ø Ansal Plaza can be a second classroom. It teaches you complicacies of loving besides History of Journalism.

Ø Never go to Ansal Plaza on a date. Its tacky site is so irritating and unconceivable for a million reasons. For God's sake, there are better places on this Earth!

Ø Colleges should well manage their fests so that they don’t clash with exams.

Ø History of Journalism is weird.

PS:

PDA= Public Display of Affection

DDA= Delhi Development Authority

Peace…

Kuch is tarah..!!!

2008-06-04T18:24:00.029+05:30

Well....

I don't really know how and when it all started, neither do I've a mighty memory which would enable me to recall an incident that happened some 14 years back, when I was just 4.

But one thing that I definitely know is that, this incident didn't change my life in particular, though it may have changed lives of thousands...

It was an intense day, for all the wrong reasons....

They said,"Babri Masjid ko gira diya hai..!!, sab hinduon ko maarkar khoon-kharaaba faila rahe hain..!!!".

Kanpur, my hometown (yeah!!) has always been a communal flash point and so, I have always seen one or the other things happening there..

The one I'm talking about happened immediately after the demolition of the Babri Masjid. It was just a regular riot, a bit more in magnitude than other ones may be. But I was too small to know and understand that..and may be that's the reason why I was in the school on that fateful day..!!!!..

The aftermath of the demolition was predictable and Kanpur was no exception. Kanpur was dismantled. Nobody had any clue as to what was happening. People were panicky. People...good people and bad people...people who wanted to save their lives...and people who hunted for lives...!!!!.. A wave of tension filled the whole city, proliferating like a cancer, decaying the minds, creating incisions..building walls, spilling blood, chopping bodies, hurling invectives, going mad..!!!...going dead..!!

I lived in Civil Lines, which was far from my school. But living in a civilized area was no remedy for a boiling riot..everyone was affected... though the extent differed..

I was protected..!!
The ones who weren't...well..God knows...

Instantaneously a curfew was declared and life revolved around that..no vegetables..no fruits..no milk.. no grains.. no nothing. Life stopped, almost threatening not to resolve its normal pace...!!!!

People were the victims. Poor tormented souls. They feared of anything and everything. Alarmed by the presence of a Muslim. Petrified on stepping into a muslim moholla.

A procreated hell it was..

The wreckage was unfathomable...!!!!!

It's said that people have a short memory and they tend to forget things fast..
I think it's right too. It's better to forget the agonies than to live with them, but had my memory collapsed, I wouldn't have remembered all this, some of which is heard and some conceived...

While I was writing this, truly, I had nothing in my mind. No insights. No clues. Just a fragment of nostalgia..
As I furthered, I got hold of the shore...

I'm beautiful..

2008-03-05T09:23:00.010+05:30

It was for the first time in a week that my regular alarm wasn’t the reason. For normally I get up only when my cell phone shrieks horrendously into my ears in the morning, challenging my biological clock, which is always in a crisis. But not this time, in fact, I got up on my own, without any alarm.

As I got up and sat on my bed with my yellow squared bed sheet printed with navy blue flowers on my lap, my hair open and falling down my shoulders, artistically tangled, I realized, I'm beautiful. It was just a thought that filled me with sheer enchantment. A thought, an enticing thought, an alluring thought, an intelligent thought. It was just a random thought and I could almost sense the consequences. All of a sudden everything became beautiful and my world changed....temporarily though...I wish I could have taken that feeling longer...but then its like that..the semblance is never the same..The feel is tranquilising though...the feel..
I can't really remember the genesis, but I could remember the sensation of looking and feeling beautiful and how it lingered, across the meninges, through my veins, on the surface...and all through my mind.

Dawn, with darkness spread like dust particles, a blurry fringe of a light, dictating my existence, made me realise that I am beautiful. Was this unseen for years???....maybe...I always knew I was beautiful, but never realised that. But now, I did. Realisation is more important than knowing. In fact it's the only way to get into the meaning deeper and better. The earlier you realize, the better you become. Good, I realised..It gave me a vision that things happen, good or bad, your conscience alerts you, then you realize the consequences and life gets better.

All of a sudden....things changed..

My gold ring, in ruby, which was very normal sometime back, became beautiful. It shone brilliantly as it never had before. Moreover, my hand was no more a body part, it became a beautifully sculptured piece of art and a gift of God, and I felt blessed. I was sailing across the vast ocean of my feelings. I felt like I was one step closer to my true self..my real strength. I was undiscovered, until then...still on my way to discover something..This unconscious introspection was an envision...

In front of the mirror, amidst the sun breaking into the darkness, to shine brightly, I stood. I moved closer and closer until I could peep into my very own reflection. My soul. My heart. My existence. Glints of yellow light filled up my room, an evidence of what I was feeling..and I stood there, in front of the mirror, analyzing my own reflection and concluding...I'm beautiful.
Things changed after that....
" You can make new discoveries only if you lose sight of the shore." *

Losing the sight of the shore came as a bliss.
-----------------------------------------------
[PS- * anonymous]

HYPOCRISY:AN ARBIT CHOICE

2008-02-27T09:47:00.010+05:30

I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes -Walt Whitman.

What Mr. Walt Whitman said then, applies to all the mortals, of all the centuries, all the anno dominies and all the before christs. CONTRADICTION is the commonest trait of all the human beings living in this universe.Infact, it is a linkage between all the races this earth has ever witnessed and shall witness in the future.

As the humans are evolving, they are becoming more intelligent & more learned, and this pigeonhole of the evolving intelligentsia is like a prairie where contradiction grows profusely. This abundance of contradictory disposition has bred what we call “HYPOCRISY”.

Hypocrisy is the biggest GIFT that contradiction has given to this mankind. There may be other gifts as well, but this one is above all. The most evil, the most wretched and the most hideous one. Hypocrisy is the epitome of negation. It is super derogatory and cruelest of all the words that describe a mortal. People hate being called a hypocrite, when they actually know the truth, their own reality.

I am a contradictory person myself and my being so is not an arbit choice or something, but is innate. I am acquiring some of its notorious version as I’m growing up and everyone else is too. So why being ashamed of calling yourself a hypocrite when you yourself know that you are one too.It’s like veiling and blindfolding your inner self.I know I am sounding shameless and obviously hypocrisy is not something worth flaunting and crying out to the world that OH!! Look at me. I have some higher standards and I pretend to be like that. But my dears… the point is ..why fool yourselves??? Why not accept it’s existence in your mind and soul. Why deny this very fact?? I may sound like a traitor and an intruder to your space, but you know what it is like….You must have heard people saying-Oh!!! You know what, I hate hypocrites and this world is full of them. On that, all I can is that, either they are saints or good at telling themselves lies. For me it’s like FAKING your “self”.

Hypocrisy is perfectly the most odious character reflected by a human being. It grows with age, grows inside, gradually, initially it is attenuating, and as we become more aware and more worldly and more wise, it grows profusely within and subtly mixes in blood, like oxygen…carbon dioxide maybe and becomes stable and remains there forever..

We humans exhibit duality and multitudinous personality. Humans are multiple in nature, they are all in one and one in all. It’s like I may be feeling sad, happy, disgusted, jealous and concerned at the same time without even realizing that. This multiple nature nurses HYPOCRISY. It makes one a big time preacher. I remember the other day when I was preaching my younger sister not to listen to ROCK justifying its maddening effects in my own words,and when I myself can’t live without it. I despise my overindulgence though, but can’t help it.. that is another issue, but the point is that I feel like a hypocrite when I do this.It's not a treason though but maybe the authority overshadows my concern here. Not just this, I have something more to say. Whenever I have an argument, I always refute others and always think I am right. Everyone does this. I call this hypocrisy, of some sort. I perceive contradiction in my own ways and people may agree or disagree. but then, I am with my interpretations. The point is not existence of hypocrisy but pain is about its non-acceptance. People believe in escaping out and all they say is WE ARE NOT HYPOCRITES without even realizing that their words are the evidennce. Isn’t that convenient ???...Sheer escapism…just twist the meaning, perceive it your ways, reach to a conclusion which is always-I AM NOT A HYPOCRITE, isn’t it???But acceptance is the only escape and people shouldrealise it.They should stop faking and misleading themselves.They should just acknowledge the reality.

When god made humans , he adjusted hypocrisy as a default attribute. So all the people who are reading this , I know, their self is nodding in acceptance but the stubborn outside is ready to lambast me for my lunacy, of calling them a hypocrite..

For all those and others…
I can recall a line from a famous song. It goes like this..
"Guess there's a Slim Shady in all of us, f**k it, let's all stand up."

CORDITE

2008-02-21T09:21:00.009+05:30

It’s annihilation.

It’s deception.
It’s painful.
It’s wasteful.
It’s numbing.
It’s abrupt.

Sheer infatuation.
Mature attraction.
Physical reinforcement.
A mutual endorsement.

People waste themselves,
their lives like shams.
Shit man!!! It sucks.
Building a pressure inside.
Too much to hold on with.
It hurts at times.
Spitting all the hatred outside.

Forged relations.
Mocking betrayal.
Fatal intrusion.
Shattering resent.
Bitter nothingness.

Amending broken trusts,
life goes on…..like a threatening device.

Who gives it a damn!!
Some cry.
Some crib.
Holding tight the noose.
Tears dry up,
just debris is left.
The pain is inside.
And I give it a shit!!

My tears are precious,
not a filthy profusion,
that I waste them all,
on a cussed f**k like this.

-------------------------------------------------------

[PS:This particular poem wasn't written out of a frustration 'coz of any BREAK-UP or something, so please don't get mistaken. It's not a part of my personal experience.]

Bus Stop IIT Gate

2008-02-10T10:56:00.009+05:30

Some days are usual and some are unusually usual .That day was like any other normal day, but was a bit unusual in some sorts .It was bitterly cold, windy and strangely pleasant, for normally, non-sunny days are not so pleasant for me. But that particular day was a bit different, in an indifferent way.

The day started normally with the usual huffle-buffle that one has to face in the mornings. The usual getting ready and walking to the bus stop and boarding the bus and fighting for a seat and struggling to survive etc..etc.. But to my surprise, the bus was freakishly empty. Sign of an auspicious day, I thought. I boarded the bus and thanked God. The journey to the Hauz Khas bus depot was amazingly easy and it took me less than the average time it takes to reach there.

I was going to the Hauz Khas bus depot to get my bus pass renewed, which was nearing expiry. The bus dropped me at the depot. I walked in and what I saw was that, the usually crowded bus depot was so deserted that I couldn’t believe if it what was the same depot that I once visited .That was serendipitous. I couldn’t believe what was happening, but I had to believe it anyway. I walked in to the pass office and got my pass made in about 5 minutes, which was again astonishing as the whole affair normally takes longer. So, now my bus pass was there, resting in my bag and I was all puzzled and happy and thanking God, walking to the bus stop, to get back home.

I walked to the terribly overcrowded IIT Gate bus stop, to take my bus back home. The stop was crowded being the peak rush hours. I found a place for myself and stood there waiting. There were no signs of bus even after 5 minutes of waiting and the first thing on my mind was to get back home. It was deeply cold. People at the bus stop, including me, were getting restless. Some were sitting on the railings under the bus stop’s roof. Some were briskly moving here and there, glancing furtively at their watches. Some were vigorously chatting on their cells and some, just standing, giving vague looks. I was the one doing all these things periodically, consciously and unconsciously.

Just then, when all these futile exercises were taking place, I saw a young guy, tall, about 20, coming out of the IIT campus, walking towards the bus stop. He was an average looking guy but was unusually attractive. He sported a baggy baseball jersey ,with a not so baggy cargo. He wore a skullcap and was truly looking like Eminem Marshall. To sum up his looks, he was graceful, well-proportioned and had an athletic stature, and essentially, I couldn’t keep my eyes from roosting on him. I saw him walking towards the bus stop. I gave him a secretive glance and looked away.

The traffic was all crawling an the road, as usual, and people were madly blowing horns to clear it off. The air was reeking of obnoxious fuel exhaust and there were people popping their heads out of the car windows. Amidst all this there was a really nice guy standing next to me. I was amazed by the way everything was happening. Everything, so nice and eventful. Queer and unnatural. I smiled, at nothing and returned to the reality.

We both were standing on the bus stop, he was standing by my side and we didn’t talk. I wanted him to talk. Well, I really wanted him to talk. I was wondering why on this galaxy I ever wanted to talk to him and this never happened before. There was something about him that was responsible for this sudden urge. But I wanted him to start. He stood there, quietly, for sometime, then moved a few steps towards me and rested himself. I stared him and he moved back. But I still wanted to talk. I never made an effort though. After next 15 min , he showed signs of wanting to talk. What a late action time, I thought. But at least he did and that made me feel..feel..feel..well, there's no word for that. But yes, it felt nice. He smiled, cleared his throat and was all set to speak.

I looked at him and just then the bus came and everything was ruined. I was livid. That was outrageous and infuriating!!.…..Oh my god!!!! WHAT A WRONG TIMING…….. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. Instead, I smiled back at him and was happy that he smiled in repercussion…I boarded the bus and left.

HAIL OF CLOTS

2008-01-25T09:46:00.000+05:30

Red,
like a blood soaked foetus.
Painful,
like a peppered abscess.
Charred,
like pieces of charcoal.
Deep,
like the Earth's core.
Tender,
like a lump of raw flesh.
Gory,
like a gesture of war.
Reeky,
like a bog.
Sharp,
like a razor blade.
Rotten,
like an infested tumor.
Audacious,
like a naked whore.
Extrusive,
like blood on snow.
Bleak,
like a vast stretch of mountain.
Sadistic,
like mortals.
Narcissistic,
like a man.
STOOD THE OBSTINATE WOUND

SEETHE

2008-01-18T12:08:00.003+05:30

The dawn was breaking,so was her sleep.Everything stopped and refused to move.The deafening silence almost killed her and she prayed she could live.She was sweating and panting.She was aghast,fidgety and restless.She thought as if someone was smothering her.She wanted to breathe.She wanted to live.She thanked God, she was alive.Still alive,to die one day.What could have happened???...

She had a nightmare...,a dawn mare probably.Dawn mares,people said,come true...She didn't care.The dawn mares have already happened,sometime in past,thinking of which,she was seething.The memories were fresh,boiling as magma under the earth's crust.Fresh was the SEETHE,taking over her consciousness.She was writhing in pain.PAIN....mental,not physical.What could have happened????????

Nothing much..Just something that could have given anyone an unfortunate death..But she survived..Survived to die one day.....die of seethe.But then what could have happened??? It was in her head..She was disturbed.She was holding too tightly on her so as to asphyxiate herself.Suppresed.Lying in pain all alone.Searching the answers of her questions.Pondering.Fiddling.People were sadistic she thought.Life has betrayed her she thought.She was fragile she thought.Relationships are brittle she thought.She was perceptive,prejudiced..

She was in search of answers of her questions.She found the answers.And as she thought she had the answers,life changed all her questions.Life has betrayed her again.She was again left seething....with new questions.....and new answers...........and old pain..as ever!!!!!

Bilawal-At The Age Of Innocence

2008-01-17T11:23:00.003+05:30

Bilawal Bhutto Zardari,19,a first year history student at the Christ Church College,Oxford University,is no more a normal teenager like most of his friends at Oxford.The very confident,charismatic and eloquent Bilawal,has now acquired a new political responsibility,a responsibility of being the Chairperson of Pakistan People's Party.This undertaking is a herculean task in itself,and very much for a 19 yr old.Mr. Bilawal Bhutto Zardari is in the line of famous political heirs after his newest acquisition,the PPP.

A very soft spoken,shy and an engaging speaker,as people close to him say,Bilawal is a Taekwondo champion and a great cricket fan as every Pakistani.Brought up in Dubai and London,Bilawal has never been exposed to the Pakistani Politics much,although he seems to be very worldly and aware by the way he speaks on issues.He has always admitted his inexperience.Making his first public presentation in London,he said,"I fear for my country.If elections are not free and fair it might disintegrate".On Bush supporting Musharraf,he said,"Dictatorships bred extremism and the U.S. should stop supporting DICTATORS".On Indo-Pak relations he said his country would like to "co-exist" with its neighbours.

In the last 2 months that Bilawal has been to Oxford,he has always maintained a low profile and called himself BILAWAL LAWALIB to avoid attention that his real surname could catch.However,after his newest acquisition he is no more Lawawlib now.He is Bilawal BHUTTO Zardari,just a 19 yr old,who has entered the GORY,MURDEROUS and INGLORIOUS politics of Pakistan.

Poor Bilawal,he would never be able to understand,why was he the chosen one?? Why was he ever chosen to bear the brunt of the brutal dynastic Pakistani politics??? Why was he persuaded to head PPP at this innocent age,when he is even younger than his mother was,when she was forced too....

The carefree and easy days at Oxford are gone.When Bilawal's Contemporaries have their first yr exams to worry about,Bilawal has been induced into the politics.What all that his friends could think of is partying,Bilawal is all set to play the DeAtH GaMe!!!!!

The ride has just begun and the journey is dangerous.The Destination is democracy,which is out of the question..

GOD SAVE BILAWAL!!!!!!!!