Monday, April 12, 2010

You and me

No , I am not in an art house jam,
my words are fickle, alright
my thoughts, abstract, are tenable still
I am open to change, I might

I think of roses and thorns alike
I love the setting sun
Blurt a thing or two in an insane song
Dream of life and kill for fun

The course never palls on me
and I never die any death
I meander around some lively woods
listen to chirping birds instead.

I know its a quagmire of a life
but I re-invent my rhyme
I am often nonchalant and often persistent
splicing charity with gruesome crime

No I am not in an art house jam
Neither are you out of sight
My thoughts, abstract, are tenable still
You can resemble me , you might.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The photograph

It was'nt so long ago, or perhaps thats an illuson that I would like to keep. School for me had always provided a premise for memories, some cherished and some being plain unforgettable. I have, in my life so far, met people who also experience an association of their lives' events with an equal music, music which transport them back to the time when they felt the tunes making a difference in their diurnal difficulties, or pleasure as the case may be. And there are these specific "days" that we celebrate and ignore for our own good reasons.

Valentines day was never my favorite, It still isn't but be it the Shiva Sainiks or the eternally blessed Kolkata couples, who are to be found everywhere and in plenty; its difficult to ignore a festival which now has achieved national importance.

What i remembered this Valentines day is a little story.It happened not so long ago. Coming out of a boy's school to a co-educational facility was a culture shock for many like me. All the years of growing up in an all male enviornment had taught us very little about community living, to an extent that a conversation with someone from the opposite sex seemed difficult and needed preparation. Located in a small town in Jharkhand, most of us in school suffered from the "what if " syndrome. In our sub-conscious mind, we had often believed that even a harmless chat with a girl could possibly land us in trouble, what if our parents come to know, what if this leads me to falling in love and screw IIT JEE? what if a batchmate spreads a rumour around? and many such possibilities would essentially hold us back from having that "oh so desired" conversation. The initial days of eleventh standard were strictly spent with exchanges of occasional smiles and stolen glances. Just when things were starting to get a bit comfortable, came this Valentines day. In our gang of six (all guys) ,we had by that time developed or were forced to develop a certain set of affectionate notions towards certain females and bang came the opportunity to act smart or be left out. "What if somebody else gives her a card and she acccepts? " was the latest from the "what if" syndrome. All of us however discovered that we lacked or didnt have what is called the "balls" to put on a smile and wish the ones we wanted to. Somebody had to take a lead, somebody had to do a demo... somebody.

"Pundit" was called so because of his phenomenal grades in Hindi and Sanskrit,potentily the unlikeliest of the cadidates to have even looked at a girl and vice versa. I was surprised when he popped up a card on the 12th evening asking me to write a few lines in English which he would present to this girl named Ranjana. Of all the "studs" and the supposed "lady killers", who were still busy searching for their "balls", here was a guy, nonchalant, unheard, ready to set a welcome
trend. I was happy and excited and wrote a few words to the best of my capability. I was happier when he read those and expressed his satisfaction.

The hot topic of discussion in our gang of six the next day revolved around speculating the consequences of the act to be, a lot of "what ifs" surfacing from several quarters. The decision was to monitor the proceedings, I was to figure out the when and where of the act and accordingly communicate to the group, which I did shamelessly and meticulously. That evening we again discussed the pros and cons, about how Pundit's life can change post the act, will he resort to alchohol if the card is rejected? if accepted will they get married in a few years? Is she goodlooking enough? etc. I had to write a few more lines for another friend as he decided that the consequence of Pundit's act is going to decide his plan of action, the logic being weird and statistically insufficient.

Next morning in the first recess we all saw Pundit and Ranjana walking towards a corner near the new cycle stand of our school. I saw him drawing out the white and blue card from a neatly folded Archies polybag. With a glimmer in his eyes and hope in his heart, he presented the card, smiling genuinely. She opened the card, read for a while and smiled back, I guess she said "Thank you" and started walking in a different direction. Pundit turned around and started walking towards the classroom with a grin on his face, the bell had rung and the short recess was over.

I dont remember seeing them together again apart from clicking a photograph in our class picnic later that year, a photograph that i still have. We were all lost in our routine and discomfort to even notice what happened between them, to even maybe bother about this small incident which became exceedingly insignificant as time passed by. Pundit went to study agriculture after school. A couple of years back I got the news that he is no longer with us. He had developed a cancerous growth in his intestines which proved fatal. I dont know where Ranjana is, I dont even know if she knows that Pundit is no more, dont know if she still has that card with her. What I know for sure looking at their photograph, is that they looked great togather.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Fools Gold

An evolved syndrome of a dubious kind
of dreams, of glitter, of stories seldom told,
of hopes, of gore, of petrified eyes,
of lives smitten by fools gold.

of desires, of carnal sins and betrayal,
of passion, of pleasures that behold
lies and forbidden fruits devoured
of lives smitten by fools gold.

of love, of hate, of disbelief off late,
of wrinkles in relations that gradually unfold,
of obscure angst, and spread-eagled mistrust,
of lives smitten by fools gold

and then one day you face the ashes
of a stone that shone beyond control,
of emotions spent on false beliefs,
of lives smitten by fools gold.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Traffic light theory

I dont claim the existance of such a thought came into being after pronounced metamorphosis, instead this is a product of an instant obsession to throw ideas, relatable, for the common cause of entertainment in a sullen office premise between bored friends , straight out of college, trying to cope up with the mundane corporate life that corporates have to offer. The idea, I must confess, is old and overkilled among a few of my friends but then for public interest and at the request of one of my buddies, yours truly has decided to share it with all and sundry. Now if you are terribly excited about what is going to unfold, my suggestion for you would be to be cool. No rocket science unearthed here but you might, you just might appreciate what even thinkers like Jean Paul Satre did. Incase you dont you may as well blame it on JPS or be happy that you havent freaked out just yet.

The call of the romantics have always been to respect women who are beautiful and women who are not so beautiful by throwing unnecessary glances at their frame. They believe that love is a communicable disease and you get affected the moment you come in close proximity with an averagely endowed member of fairer sex (the degree of cut-off endowment varies with respect to the mans ability to even attain any proximity or his plain ignorance about his sexual orientation).There are a myriad charms in getting affected with such a state of mind, the feeling of falling in and out of love just by the mere sight of a better pasture(is it a kind of an overstatement?). With a world full of terrorism and mindless violence, I sometimes wonder why people who pour love left right and centre are viewed with such distaste. But anyways we are talking about the "killers", you know the "been there done that" types. Smooth talkers and criminals have something in common, they both await that major heist in life which can potentially leave everyone else dubstruck and leave themselves with enough booty to cherish all their lifetime. Such a heist like all Tarantino movies leave them gasping for breath and sometimes even wondering wether it was ever worth it. JPS once observed that many a times we give our every bit, put in all our stakes for the one thing that we want so very badly in our lives: even the cosmos conspires and gives it to us and what happens next? We sit and wonder wether the same was worth at all.

The "Killers", therefore love the chase. They know the checks and bottlenecks. they get a "deja vu" with reactions, expressions and sentiments. They can map the stages of love, a perfect bell curve like a product life cycle, low at both ends and blown up in the middle; and they quit at their peak, just when they know that love has been achieved and whats going to commence is pain and compromises.

Imagine this. You are rider living it on a fast lane on a mean machine of yours at your prime in a mid-night street. You vision a distant traffic light at a signal, not a bird around but just about anything lurking in the corner around a couple of blindspots. The signal is red and you are touching 80kmph and you have your endless possibilities of youth at your disposal. The thrill of getting past the signal when it is red is what shoots up your adrenaline. The moment it turns green, it would pass like just another day in office, uninsipiring and routine.

"Love must surely reside in the gap between desire and fulfillment, in the lack, not the contentment" - Kiran Desai

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Exams, Friends, Music, Grades and Girls... Engineer at heart!!

Consider this..

Are of three types entirely based on the hours of sleep/games that you lose for it
1. Surprise quizzes: Not worth mentioning as they are not worthy to be a consideration. Why worry about something which even the geeks couldn’t anticipate.
2. Mid term exams: Are like alarm clocks with a snooze button. You are still bound to ignore it
3. End Sem exams: Pretty much like labor pain, you know its going to get over soon and will not come back for sometime (within 6 months in this case).

Are of two types, friends and best friends based on their value proposition
1. Friends: The ones who waste similar amount of time, bunk similar number of classes, sleep similar number of hours, play similar games and have a crush on the same girl (entirely due to lack of options)
2. Best Friends: The ones who attend classes throughout the semester and allows his notes to be Xeroxed in public interest before exams, the ones who share cigarettes with people on the 25th to 30th of every month and the ones who have contacts with chicks in the friendly neighborhood college

Adhere to notions about Music
1. That rock is not about Britney Spears and cover versions of “we will rock you”
2. That they have seen Euphoria and Prikrama perform in front of them
3. That bhojpuri songs are in and a hit among geeks
4. That pink floyd is best served with Vodka and lime
5. and that if you see pshychedelic rock being played in media player audio mode in a dark room , then everybody inside is happily stoned and levitating

The following pointers are the best reflection of the idea of highly regarded grading system of the college
1. Grades are highly random numbers entirely dependent on the spatial co-ordinates of the individual in quizzes/midterm exams and the number of friends sharing the single Xeroxed notes obtained from a best friend before end sems
2. Inversely proportional to the number of hours spent over LAN games and text messaging fairer sex
3. Directly proportional to the number of night outs and individual could afford studying without watching a movie or two


1. are either good or very good
2. decide which hobby/activity you want to pursue and which society/club you want to be associated with
3. are exotic creatures for mechanical engineers in particular

Did I notice a grin?

Friday, May 29, 2009


It seemed so many beautiful days..
I sense I cannot be forgetful ofcourse
So many reasons of unnerving bliss
Apprehensive,what if my words, you take amiss
But do you realise why emotions are rife..
and why your smile brings me back to life?

The song of the cascading river I hear,
the singing nightingales , and you, were there
Poetry by the riverside flows..
mystique eyes , serene fragrance of rose
But do you realise why emotions are rife..
and why your smile brings me back to life?

Romance and pain are siamese twins
Fear that U'll let go, wrecks me within
Affection is ambitious for a vagabond man
For an eternity I wish I could hold your hand
But then one day when you will say good bye
I will be there, waving at you with a smile

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

The master of funk

It is rather unfair to blame existentialism as a cornerstone of all that went wrong to the world at large. At no point of time can I refrain from blaming myself for what possibly went wrong with me. I know of a friend who has this unique ability of finding unequal reasons for things that went the other way and I know that you identify with many who do so. The pretext remains that they are far too ignorant or adamant to accept that things on which we don’t have much control, are better left without much analysis. Pragmatism lies in our abilities to make the most of what we, as an individual, can and leave the rest undisturbed; with optimism and faith of a certain kind. But that is me speaking and you might as well have reasons not to think similarly. You will talk of situations, choices, affordability and social structure. You will come back to the point where I started from, sighting the fact that this ardent insistence of disregard to the “norms” and doing one’s own thing is a reason to many a downfalls. You may even criticize me to be an atheist and how self-destructing it can get when you have no fear of an ubiquitous obvious, the threads of which we were all intertwined with, since the time we lived. When I talk about faith of a different kind I talk of confidence and abilities which are developed and if persevered, remain.

I will not go into individual examples, as these can be singular and mis-leading. The world today is talking about the huge mess that the so called greedy wall-street bankers have made of the financial system. The blame is being forced on individual interests of bankers as much as the corporate game of one-upmanship. Billions have been lost and the investor is appalled at the abysmal lack of sensitivity shown by the fund managers whilst dealing with hard earned bread of common man. Recently I read about people complaining of the fact that the principle of “to each one his own” has endangered trust among human beings and sighted this example of reckless mal-utilization of individual capital. Morality is being questioned on the pretext of lack of fear that is expected to emanate from a civilized god-fearing man. A hint at again blaming existentialism as a means of justifying wrong doings. I beg to differ again.

In fact many in and out of business would agree that if the blame has to be fixed, the foremost to be considered are the seekers of returns. In a game of “who makes more”, sanity is often sacrificed. So you have people queuing up for higher returns on investment to an extent that innovation in financial markets became an absolute necessity. Hence the derivative market and more and more exploitation of the ever shrinking resource bank, loans being sold and securities created out of virtual assets. The argument which held firm and clear pre black sunday was individual existence and individual enhancement. So why blame existentialism now, when everything we have lost were focused on our own well-being.

The point to note is not far fetched. You might as well question me that am I doubting ethics? Am I demeaning group responsibility? My answer would be that ethics and cumulative responsibility is the benchmark that we can hold our ambitions against. Individual whims and desires cannot at any point outgrow essentials like morals and beliefs, but at the same time lets hold each one of us responsible for any detours we take to satiate our thirsts of different kinds. If we are justified at taking certain risks, our positions will be vindicated and if we are unable to return home in peace, nobody but our own actions remain responsible. The dice for the game of life is unevenly loaded and is meant for the masters of funk. It is not made for the fainthearted.