The Old and The New

Hello my friends, a song I sing for you now,
About life, dreams unfulfilled, and realities wow.

Yeah, life's quite a rush,
And there is no time for mush,
Those teenage days are gone,
When sleep was what we did in the morn.

Some people are gone, some still hold on,
Some have come back and some show us a new dawn.
Failiure shows us its face when we don't want it to,
Victory, acts like a pricy girl I wanna woo.

And yet life goes on, phase to phase,
Filled with surprises is this lovely maze,
Too much thought will get us into a haze,
So come on guys, let's spring up the craze.

Meet me this Sunday, when the eve is bright,
We shall laugh together till its dark and no light,
Life will seem breezy once again,
I will be ready for Monday, from heart and from brain.

Peace.

It is an uneasy process. There is garbage and filth all around. And then there are people, including me, who exist in this smelly backyard of this house whose owner lives now in New South Wales. Some have big noses, some have no eyeballs. Some have dirty teeth. They all speak mean things. They all wanted to go to a certain place. And only one of them would be the chosen one. So they would fight to go to the place. Every day.

No one knew how to go there. Though, they knew that there was a definite secret to do so.

Across the world, there are millions of such weird people who meet everyday across hundreds of countries in such backyards, who want to go to that place

I lie there. With my clothes torn, with a headache of a different kind. I am numb. There is no sensation. There is only noise that they all make which disturbs me. It hinders my thought process. I don't know what to do next. I want to go to that place too.

You must be thinking what this place that I am talking about really is. It is a place of peace. A place of satisfaction. A place of fulfillment. A place where all retribution ceases to exist by the power of the feat performed. At this place, nothing will matter.

I suddenly see that everything is different. I cannot see anything but a white screen. I go to touch it and realise that there is nothing there. It is not tangible. There is an endless expanse of white. There is no end. And I turn to look at where it begins and as expected, I see that there is no beginning either. I look down to see the colour of the floor. There is no floor. I seem to suspended be in the midst of white.

And all so suddenly, I am back in the filthy little backyard again. I find myself suffering from a lingering hangover which makes my mean comrades sound louder and more irritating.

I wonder what happened in that one moment. The beautiful place that I was in, only for a moment. I thought I had reached that place. Why couldn't I have stayed there and more importantly, how did I really get there?

It struck me. I had closed my eyes. It dawns on me. The process is not uneasy. It is the easiest. What really is difficult, is the decision to shut the eye.

Let Me Take You To a Different Place

To Vasundhara (the Environment Club of Symbiosis Centre for Management Studies-Undergraduate),

Let me take you to a different place,

Where no regrets come to your face,

Everyone you meet, you embrace,

Life goes on at a different pace.

There is nothing to bog you down,

When you make the best use of your crown,

Where hindrances cease to matter,

Because every obstacle you will shatter.

Let me take you to a different place,

A place, with quite a heavenly grace,

No honking, no traffic jams,

Only breezy weather and beautiful dams.

Peace and Calm enter your head,

Every night you go smiling to bed,

Every morning is when you take another birth

From the womb of your living room’s hearth.

Let me take you to a different place,

Where government problems are very scarce,

Where competition is necessarily fair,

And nothing possibly, gives you a scare.

Your eyes open and you realize,

To be in dreamland is not wise,

Your actions will be the magic broom,

That makes this planet Jannat or Jahannum.

The Fool

Another of my attempts at writing songs....

Roaming on the roads alone,
Early in the hours of wee,
I found a fool finding his clone,
Did he really know what he wanted to see?

He touched his head to the ground,
Arose and touched his face,
Yelled a bit to see how he sounds,
"An idiot", he thought, "I am a disgrace"

Why was he afraid,
Who was he scared of?
What on his mind played?
Did he play cricket or did he play golf?

I wished I could talk to him,
An interesting personality was he,
Couldn't get what was his milk,
Only saw himself skim with glee.

Madness took him over,
He started playing with the drain cover,
Thought about all that happened unnecessarily,
Would you be surprised if i told you it was me?

The Dark Lord of Quant

We all have dreams to talk about but we know that some just win that 'Best Dream' award for whatsoever reason. I had such a dream last night. It ranked highest in terms of connectivity to my life and creativity.

To give you a brief background of my life nowadays, I am preparing for CAT 2010 and all the exams that follow in the season.

Coming back to the point, why I feel "Connectivity to my life" is an important criteria for ranking a dream is because some dreams are mindblowing, but take a lifetime or more to connect to our current life, that is, we cannot make any sense of them. For example, I had a dream that air borne seeds turned into poisonous insects and crowded the ceiling of my living room. Absolute vagueness.

The Dark Lord refers to none other than Voldemort. Now Voldemort haunted yet another part of this world. The world of Quant (Quantitative Ability). I could not see him in my dream. This was because his movement was as fast as his speed at calculation. In this episode, Voldemort would move in and out of the bodies of humans without a second of delay. So that was at least what I thought, initially. His dominance and power emerged from only one virtue- his prowess at manipulating and dealing with numbers. He used numbers to calculate the fate of what lay inside of the volume of the human body- its concept and character- the soul.

I could make something of it. I understood his magic. It was Co-ordinate Geometry. It was simple. He would map various locations of the person's body (finger tips, elbows etc) on Plane x, Plane Y and Plane Z. A crucial position for his magic to work would be the coordinate points of the person's brain. With this data he would use Distance and Section Formulae to determine the obvious. Also, the normal time in which a person responds to a certain stimulus would be the normal reflex time for that person. With the distance and the speed, the Lord would then know at what speed a confusing impulse is to be sent to that part of the body not only to instruct it to do something else, but also for it to not receive the impulse from the brain in the normal reflex time.

In this way, contrary to what I thought, the Dark Lord would control human beings from the outside. Coordinate Geometry was all that it was.

I did wake up scared as hell at 2 am. This was quite similar to the experience of a certain Mr. Potter in some other world, wasn't it? But I wouldn't know if I was his counterpart. I had no scar.

So what's your best dream?

The Difficult Step

Random thought.

Sometimes, the thing that stops us from going ahead is the fear of the enormousness of the unknown.

The Coffee Song

On lonesome mornings after sleepless nights,
You're missing someone you love,
Thinking about all those fights,
When you never held out the dove.

Serve yourself that brown-lil mug,

Of freshly brewed bean,

The aromatic steams will hug,

Yeah..you're adult or a teen.

Lazy long afternoons, you want to make that call,

When you're off for a meeting, until night,

You're always there in the meeting hall,

Always end up doing wrong, when you wannabe right!

Serve yourself that brown-lil mug,

Of freshly brewed bean,

The aromatic steams will hug,

Yeah..you're adult or a teen.

Uninteresting lectures and boring bards,

Trying to teach you physics in school,

Why don't they ever think of art?

Why...oh why..is the system so uncool?

Serve yourself that beautiful mug,

Of freshly brewed bean,

The aromatic steams will hug,

Yeah..you're adult or a teen.

Happiness you will get with time,

Company or purpose,

Singing along with me this rhyme,

You will never call this life a curse.

So,serve yourself that beautiful mug,

Of freshly brewed bean,

The aromatic steams will hug,

Yeah..you're adult or a teen.

Picture courtesy: 

Gettyimages

Training

The training must go on,

One difficult situation after the other,

From each heaven is a hell born,

All this on earth, makes me shudder.

The joy is in a string of special moments,

Sorrow, an unending maze,

Just when life seems to have low rents,

Starts the sub prime crisis phase.

The eyes go so moist most of the time,

Trickling tears on the cheeks quick,

Receiving punishment for a noble crime,

Haven Happiness shatters brick by brick.

And then some time passes by,

For us to only see the dawn,
The distant rays, a relieved sigh,

Finding a teary-eyed overwhelming morn.

Thinking of what happened and why,

Suddenly not wanting to lose the moment,
Forgetting the sorrow, looking at the sky,
Orange-red fruit for bearing the training torment.

Kahaan ho?

Sometimes life puts you into such situations, that boredom is inevitable. Moments, evenings, days and even weeks pass by. But there is nothing to do, other than what you are supposed to do. There is nothing new, nothing exciting and nothing which makes you want to live. You just live because you are alive.
I am going through one such blank, empty spaced phase of my life. This is because I have the 'yellow fever' i.e. Jaundice. By the way, I do not have Yellow Fever. Yellow Fever is something completely different. I have Jaundice. I am just calling it 'yellow fever' because my eyes, nose, face, hands and legs are yellow and I have fever.

My mind nowadays is super idle, so I am filling it up with sitcoms, books, movies etc. Also, a lot of thoughts gush in. Thoughts about graduation, about friends who I miss so much, about all the food I cannot have, about friends who meet me often nowadays, about past relationships and finally, the category on which we all get stuck, "Myself".

I am sure most of you will agree with me that we, in highly contemplative moods, don't really know what to do with ourselves. We do not even know if there is anything to say or do. We are just stuck, waiting for life to move on.

I too, am waiting for life to move ahead. It seems to have come to a standstill. It's like I am trying to push an aeroplane, hoping for it to move so fast that a take off would be possible. When days are to be spent without doing anything, it's killing. Sometimes I just lay on the bed looking at the clock. A second seems the longest in such situations. Thankfully, I am recovering quickly now and I can divert my attention to making productive efforts just like this one.

As I write to you, I figure the logic of God/Nature/Universe, whatever you want to call it. We all go places in the journey of our lives. And what I mean by that, is that we fly to places. Currently I have reached my next destination, but it's just that I don't have landing space which is why I will have to wait for the signal from the the air traffic control officer.  So where are you? Flying to your destination, just landed or taking off?