Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Separation-II: MUSE




Of the passion that we shared
When we
Last kissed;
Of the times you silently cried
And these moments,
I missed…
I live in the longing,
And regret;
Lest I forget
How it all felt…
And still,
Make acquaintance
With this
Gargantuan distance..
Yet, somehow
Console my heart,
Which plays
Its part,
In this systematic abuse,
I call LIFE
To which I put myself through;
Everyday…
And you ask me;
“Is our love so painful?"
"Is it so abstruse?”
To which I smile;
And give you
The eternal excuse,
“Love, you aren’t just my love;
You are my MUSE”.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Invictus v2.0- Voices and Visions



Thoughts- weird, eccentric, random, ghastly- wake me up early, every morning. They cloud my dawn; in a semi-awake state as my eyes try to grope for consciousness. The lower portion of my skull feels heavy; I have a feeling that is where my sub-conscious is located; it makes its presence felt; and I acknowledge it. Paralysed by this torrent of brain pulses whose origin I can not trace; whose purpose I do not know, I lay in this state as my physical self tries to construct the solidity that exists but has been slightly bent out of shape by my semi-conscious mind. In those moments of random cogitations I defy what space and time might mean to a trained and educated mind.

I leave my bed; I switch on the lights of my room. 8.30 am- it's too early by my standards. Strangely, the familiar coziness that my pillow used to offer is a distant past. I look at the mirror. My disheveled hair speak of the night and the loneliness that it brought along. I look at my blood shot eyes; they are the same; they are still mine and they return my gaze  unhindered, unrestricted, uninhibited; and reassure me that indeed I haven't been kind to them, yet they'll not hesitate to respond to me in case I need a reality check.Words of Douglas Adams ricochet in my head- You live and learn. At any rate you live...

Existence has often perplexed me. I am not a biologist; but I have often felt that it is slightly apathetic to classify humans as a bundle of nerves and elements. Is it possible that we are just thought waves or extensions of a previous thought wave that has come and gone by? Uniqueness is a rarity and in truth most of us are living, breathing cliches. 

Mental isolation piques me; I am a thought extending like the horizon in the hope of meeting my zenith; like a desolate neuron trying to bridge the synapse that separates it from its kin, I reach out with my dendrons. This is also existence, and I must know it as it is.

I am a thought that will not die; I am an idea that will live and spread. I exist because I chose not to fade away. I am undefeated; I am unafraid; I am myself- unique, pure, chaste.

I am the Invictus.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Out of Exile

Something that I wrote during my placement season of 2008-09. Don't know why I never posted it. But here goes..



Being jobless is an altogether interesting experience. Not only do I get to sleep all day long in my room,the varied range of emotions that I get to go through everyday amazes me. I never thought that I would get to feel all of it within a matter of few days. The joy that I felt when I got drunk on one of my despondent, dejected acquaintances' getting through a top notch job was heartfelt. And the jealousy that came along with the hangover was devastating to say the least. Cynical happiness uplifted my spirit to a new abyss as and when I heard the news of someone not making through. The misery that fate splashed across the faces of the rejected, keeps getting compounded with the passing of each day; misery becomes happiness when measured relatively; I feel happy.
I feel amused at the circus the "placement season" has become. I feel vindicated when the true colours of any individual is revealed. I am not a friend anymore; I am a"threat" to others' livelihood.A "threat"? And I thought I was "mostly harmless"!! The thin line between good and bad has vanished and the "bourgeois" are behaving like men on a sinking ship; "Every man for himself". And what do I do amid all this melee ?I sit back in my room; smile at the chaos that humanity or lets' say a part of it is creating; smack my lips; relish the fact that eventually "man" will devour "man" and wish "How cool it would be to have my canines grow like that of a vampire?".
It would make me more human...........

Sunday, September 12, 2010

"We've got your pal"- A Catch-22 situation

If you ever go on the wikipedia page and type "World War-II Literature", you'll be taken to a page where there is a mention of works like "Flags of Our Fathers","The Harvey Girls" and other such classic war-time literature. No doubt that these works capture the trials and tribulations of those affected and those involved in the most compelling way, yet the seriousness of The War in the narration can become heavy and tedious for the readers. In 1961, an ex-US World War-II bombardier by the name of Joseph Heller decided to set the record straight by publishing Catch-22, a satire and if I may be allowed to call it, a mockery on The War, and it is this eccentric piece of literary work that is I am going to write about here.

Catch-22 is the story of Captain John Yossarian who is a US B-25 bombardier for the 27th Air Force Head Quarters. Everytime he completes the number of missions that are required after which one can be sent home, the powers to be raise the number. His only motive in the entire book is to save his life come what may. To achieve the same he tries various shenanigans-tries to get himself grounded on the grounds of insanity, gets himself admitted in the hospital with pain in his liver which was "just short of jaundice" but "not jaundice" and the likes. He is aided in his theatrics with a motley crew of characters- each suffering and being tormented by their own insecurities, ambitions and the failures to achieve them.

The thing that sets Catch-22 apart from the rest of the books based on The War, is that the action on the battlefield, is secondary. At the center of the novel is a simple man's struggle to come to terms with the hysteria and paranoia that war brings and his indefatigable fight to live through and perhaps beyond it. The book's high point is the convoluted humour which can make those well-versed in logic tear their hair apart-characters contradicting themselves in every next statement, corruption being justified by the economics of profit,reason going for a toss just like that, sanity and insanity becoming subjective- all add to the queer and twisted humour of the book. There is situational humour as well and it at times makes you wonder if between all this madness, a war is actually taking place. Consider this for an example:-
'Sure, that's what I mean,'Doc Daneeka said.'A little grease is what makes this world go round. One hand washes the other. Know what I mean? You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.'
Yossarian knew what he meant.
'That's not what I meant,' Doc Daneeka said, as Yossarian began scratching his back.


It is not just war and logic that Catch-22 makes fun of. Death, the greatest equaliser and finality of any war is also poked fun at. In fact it is dealt with a comical, and some might feel, even a slight derogatory treatment with the characters making near mockery of the process of dying itself.

War has always been devastating to the fairer sex and the book is full of instances where women folk have been shown in the veridical light of the misery they suffer in conflict situations. The savage attitude of men that war time brings out is exposed but only in necessary measures and there is no overdoing of the same.

Catch-22 does has its shortcomings as well. The narrative is leisurely but at times it does get tedious due to the repetition of the similar jokes in similar situations. The chronological order of the story is also difficult to keep pace with and at times you need to revisit the earlier pages to make complete sense of what is happening. The end, though climactic, is a bit disappointing and you are left with a feeling that a somewhat crazier, more maniacal solution could have been a more befitting.

Catch-22 has been listed in the TIME magazine's 100 Greatest novels of the 21st century and it justifies its presence for the uniqueness of perspective that it brings about the War. The lofty nobles of patriotism, heroism, sense of duty and bravery have been brought to the fore by many novels, films etc. but survival? That is something that this book explores and leaves you wondering whether the sense of duty in war times can or can not prevail over our innate sense of existing. Read Catch-22 for Captain Yossarian, read it for Hungry Joe, read it for Doc Daneeka; read it to realize the frailty of life, read it for the enormity of death; read it for the fact that you may understand and yet not comprehend the catch of Catch-22.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Separation-I: An Ocean Between Us


How do I know that I am alive; that this is what reality looks like and it is not an incoherent dream sequence dancing in front of my eyes? Are my senses giving me the right readings; or have they become so numb, so petrified by this nightmarish reality that actually exists, that they have chosen to paint an illusionary picture….

Inertia adds more somber colours, and I grope at nothingness that defines this reality in the hope to catch some pigments that constitute this illusion….

The unknown silently whispers in my ears, “It is time; it is time we meet”. I pay no heed to it, I believe in the illusion; it’s comforting; it allows status quo, a quasi static equilibrium, where everything happens so slowly for infinite amount of time that nobody notices any perceptible change. I gaze vacantly at the stars; their distance from where I stand is in measures of light years. And light years is what separates them from each other; each an island burning as brightly as it can. A day will come when each of them would swallow itself….. They call it the ‘supernova’; I call it suicide; suicide of the most macabre and galactic proportions… I detest the universe for what it is trying to show me…

The frost on the window trickles down, tracing a serpentine path; every turn uncertain, every bend unpredictable to the naked eye. But perhaps, at the minutest level of existence that defines matter, there must have been a perfect harmony, a symphony of sorts that caused that movement; a reason, perhaps pushing its way against all odds stacked. And then again, what is visible is randomness, not the reason and we always trust our senses and our instincts…..

I sit by the window,
I watch time fly…
I wake up,
I stop dreaming with open eyes...

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Sound Of Truth




To all those in DCE/DTU, protesting /not protesting, I hope you know what you are doing.
This is a song by the band "AS I LAY DYING". Hope you guys can get the message implied...

We have all heard what we wanted to hear
Truth that sounds right to our ears
We have all heard what we wanted to hear
Truth that sounds right to our ears

But what wisdom is there within us
To live based on the feeling of our hearts?
How many times has instinct let us down
Never to be thought through
Never to be questioned

Say what you really mean
When your ambition calls you, calls you
For what use is there in praying
If you will only hear what you want to hear?

We have all heard what we wanted to hear
Truth that sounds right to our ears

We speak of fighting to resist this world
But what about the battle within us?
If we have chosen to live against the grain
Then why are we all facing the same way?

There is no difference between us and them
If we all blindly seek truth from sentiments

We have all heard what we wanted to hear
Truth that sounds right to our ears

Thursday, October 16, 2008

MICRO CUTS


The breaking of neurons;
Collision of neutrons;
Produces energy
Which I use to burn
Your effigy; in my mind
As I rewind; and witness
The spatial excess; that separates us
Like the unfathomable nothingness
Of silent emptiness; as we create
Super massive blackholes; with the clash
Of our egos.
The breaking of neurons;
Collision of neutrons;
The death of a star;
And all that remains with me
Is a deep, ghastly SCAR.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

THE LONELY POSITION OF NEUTRAL


I quit one of the spirits,
To cleanse the other,
The other left me saying,"why so pure; why do you bother?"
I took too many swigs of one,
To relieve the other,
The other got infuriated, " your body is my hell, you take me to slaughter".
Tempted by one,
Berated by the other;
I swung between,
Sobriety and a stupor.
I did not know where i stood;
The temple or the cellar;
I worshiped both;
My Conscience; my Lucifer.
I decided then,
To draw the line.
I have stopped thinking;
I find no refuge in the wine.

PS:- after eight years, i have created what can be called a semblance of poetry.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

THE BLAH ABOUT BLAH


Blah blah blah blahblah blah blah blahblahblah. If ever in the Queen’s language was a word that can describe almost everything that is there without pretensions and without overdoing the obvious it is “blah”. The fact that this word is omnipotent had been a matter of great research for the scientists of the planet JOLGA BETA-IV of the eastern arm of the galaxy. The people of this planet had only this monosyllable in their lexicon and yet it was sufficient for the entire population to convey their thoughts and feelings. The scientists upon intense research and protracted investigation came to the conclusion that if and when they go public about their research, public response would be limited to a single word, and that being “BLAH” as the report was full of nothing but “blah”. So they abandoned the research and committed mass suicide , their last words being a collective “BLAH”.

Coming back to Earth, where the word has been as easily and consummately accepted in people’s lives as toilet papers, it is considered a powerful means of communication and is revered alongside other such powerful words like “FUCK”,”SHIT” etc.

Etymologists and anthropologists believe that “blah” was actually first used by trees before they stopped talking. The first use of the word “blah” was 2 million years ago when a Mango tree told his story of bitter divorce to his nearby standing guava tree. Incidentally it was an orchard and apart from the Mango tree all other trees were guava trees. Each guava tree decided to hear the story in person from the Mango tree. This created such a confusion for the Mango tree, who found that all guava trees looked alike and he would have to repeat the same story over and over again, that he became paranoid and all he could speak was a solitary “blah”. The word caught on with the other trees and they all started using it till they finally got exhausted and stopped speaking forever.

There are numerous examples from day to day life where “blah” has been found to be useful. Take the case of this reporter from a very reputed international daily who once had to scribble what our PM had to say about a particular nuclear deal that had started at some place, went on to some other place, turned around in circles and finally lost its way somewhere in The Bay Of Bengal where it was rediscovered by “red clothed politicians” who decided that the PM should be made to see red in the face for all the trouble they had undergone in finding the deal. That however is another story. To our reporter we must come back. So there she was with her paper, pencil, lipstick, handkerchief, paper soap, keys, bangles, blah, blah… After listening for a while, concentrating real hard for ages and trying not to fall asleep under the soporific effects of the speech, she realized that if she did fall asleep at that very moment and miss out on the rest of the speech, she can very easily replace all of it by “blah”. She did that and the next morning when the report was published nobody noticed the difference and the reporter went on to win some prestigious journalism award for publishing the “factually most accurate report of the year” for that very report.

A more common and widespread use of the word “blah” is when you suddenly meet an old acquaintance(whom you did not ever want to meet in the first place) while you are out in the market, looking for books that can increase your vocabulary(come to think of it, it can be any book, for that matter!). You would greet each other warmly and all you would remember of the conversation later would be nothing but a string of “blah”s( which would be considered a very profound conversation if you were on the planet JOLGA BETA-IV). And when you would describe the encounter in a party to your close friends including the part where all of it is nothing but a string of “blah”s , you would be highly commended for your admirable social skills, graciousness, demeanors, blah, blah and blah.

Lexicographers and sociologists working together have found that future uses of “blah” may have a greater impact on communication gap that exists today. They have realized that as we become more intolerant, impatient and constipated due to lack of words we have to say to each other, “blah” will become the bridge that will prevent our social structure from falling apart. They even simulated some tests in real time which went on something like this:

Old aged father:- Son , I think you should go and blah, blah, blahblahblah.

Son:- Dad, I already blah blahed the blah without blahen(perfect tense) the blah.

Old Aged father:- then blah blahblah to blah your blah blahblah!!!

Son:- blah?? Blah!! Blah@#$!!.

This, they believe, would constitute a highly fruitful conversation in the near future. And they do point out that “blah” will thus play a very important role, henceforth.

Students studying in engineering colleges, had however, realized the potential of “blah”, since time immemorial. Almost every college had and still has a secret society which was and still is called “the Brotherhood of the BLAHRIC BLAH”. They passed and still pass on the social etiquettes associated with “blah” to the newer generation. For example, when girls/ boys where to talk to their boyfriends/girlfriends, all of the conversation could be neatly described to their friends in a four-worded sentence, and this sentence being “blah blah blah blah”. Further the secret society also promulgated or still promulgates that if you “blah” your way in the semester exam answer sheets the chances of getting good grades were blah is to blahblah which blahbically speaking is kind of blah on the higher side.

As a signing off note all I can say that as responsible young citizens of this world we must not undermine “blah”, for one day it will be the word of true freedom(from all unwanted noise that is in our heads, ears etc), chanted by GREENPEACE, PeTA, POTA, activists and due must be given to it for blah” is eternally blah,blah,blah, and some more of blah, blah blah blah, with blah, blah and blah, blah….

BLAH!!

Sunday, April 13, 2008

STARK REALITY

As I sit enchanted with my eyes fixed on the television screen, watching the latest tragedy that strikes one of the characters in one of the most watched prime time soap opera, I can’t help but chuckle gleefully. “Another one bites the dust”, I think. “Serves him right”, I mutter under my breath. Yes; tragedies enthrall me… I derive perverse pleasure from the non-sensical, yet satiating pain that man bestows to the other of his kind….

Sadist though I may sound, yet I am no different from you.; you, who consider yourself an epitome of rectitude and all that is or is supposedly right with mankind. I am a voyeur……just like you .I have my fetishes; just like you. The only thing separates you from me is that I can accept my follies as a human being; you however would not; for the fear of being showing to the world what you truly are.

I am not being harsh on you. I have no intention of publicly humiliating you. I only want to tell you that humanity is truly, and in all essence nothing but a giant mass of voyeurs, sadists and vengeful creatures. Hidden beneath your mask of uprightness there is a lurking voyeur which takes control of you when you try to peep into the lives of others; when you derive happiness from the pain of others. This voyeur is your identity when you discuss the latest grapevine; when you nose around to find what your neighbor is up to; and yes, even when you watch those idiotic soap operas. You live vicariously through the lives of others; enjoying pain, depravity and life itself.

I have not seen vampires, nor have I seen a carnivore tear apart its prey, but I have seen human beings. We are a species that enjoys tragedies like no other species. Tragedies are to human beings what blood is to vampires. We all feed on them; part voyeurs, part vampires, part carnivores; we are homo sapiens. It would be credulous on your part to believe that there are angels in the hearts of men; our world has always been a man eat man world; it is hostile and at times impersonal and impossible. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was one and the same person; the good and the bad intertwined into one. Like the colour grey; mix of black and white. The world is so colourful yet the only colour that describes us humans is grey…. .reality is always grim.

Don’t run from yourself; don’t hide yourself from the world. Your brethren are also humans who are just like you. Accept your design, for you are what you are; VOYEUR, VAMPIRE, CARNIVORE, PERVERT, AND ABOVE ALL, HUMAN…………