Monday, November 16, 2009

Get the dogs

“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.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Rejection

“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.


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.


“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.


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.


@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.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Suicidal Tendencies

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..

Friday, September 4, 2009


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.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Distance between the smiles...

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 3/4th. 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.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

I just call...

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.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

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

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...

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Why should I kill?

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?"