My Literary Indulgences...

“I sit environed by walls blue and crumbling… Yond a lone flower’s lilting, a small brook bumbling…” Imageries both powerful, yet worlds apart… Conveying who knows what, this is abstraction in art… The connoisseur says – the bard’s world is torn, And broken is his spirit as he sits in the ruins, forlorn… But the shattered remains still cling on to light, As he gazes upon the joyous flower, brook willing him to fight… The nonchalant naïve, well need I say more? He takes it at face value, nothing less, nothing more… That the bard is just reposing in an old room, And penning down what he sees – nothing more to exhume… What if for once, the naivete proves right? The bard, just relaxing – no sorrows and no fights? Yes, the quintessential abstraction has no role to play, Tired of talking in riddles, in plain words he writes and says? Grew up on classics, where lines go layers deep, Hours fly deciphering the mood, letting the emotions seep… A ques

Blessed with supreme intellect, sentient beings us all, Joke's surely on us, 'cause often its the cause of our fall... Brooding on the past and future leaving our spirits jaded, Living life a lost lifestyle now, thinking about things overrated... What's the universal language, the energy linking us all? Why, it's music of course! Be it a symphony of joy or gall... And so I keep humming a tune, sing songs new or long faded, An essential release for my soul, which thinks silence is overrated... Home is where my heart lies, and it revels in mischief, Teasing my brother, pestering my mom beyond all relief... The child in me quite the poltergeist, is hardly ever sated, And so bickering, and scuffles abound, 'cause tranquility is overrated... Realism is my way in life, immature optimism long past, Saving everyone a pickle - cape so small, problems too vast... So I help the nearest child, devoting time where most needed, Not to save the world, but for th

The entire cosmos, a transient being, awaiting an imminent doom... Mortal creatures us all, with temporary tenures, some in happiness, some gloom... As Shakespeare said, a man in his life is not once but twice puerile... But no passing is as prolonged, no departing as riling, as of a smartphone turned senile... Long past are it's hay days, when the lissome figure drew many swoons and fawns... Now, cracked, bent, broken, it shakes and weeps of those days from dusk to dawn... Once the pride of the creator, pampered with bug fixes, security and firmware updates... Now crashes at the slightest unbalance, the least provocation, becomes impossible to resuscitate... Once a decathlon runner, hopping hurdles was as easy as eating apple pie... An excellent juggler of the multitude of tasks thrown, it did a great job to satisfy... Now tottering even with support is asking too much, energy sapping to null in a blink... Multitasking a trait long rusted, handling even the most basic jo

Life is naught, but the sum of choices we make… Of the trails left untrodden, of the paths we take… Decisions scarcely are easy, every resolution is a tough start… Even if light shines ahead, walking those last few paces in the dark is the hardest part… Principles may feed one’s conscience, but an empty stomach still rumbles… With every diversion from one’s code, self-esteem little by little crumbles… For one may loathe the rat race and fly curses to Corporates that smart… But choosing to live for greater good with a cold hearth and empty belly is the hardest part… To err is human, and to be opinionated about everything is absolute crime… Imposing one’s prejudice disguised as advice – truly the greatest sin of all time… Though making someone they care for live their tried and tested way is in everyone’s heart… But choosing to let him stumble, fall, bruise, get up, brush off and learn is the hardest part… Time and again it has been said, friendship is your

The brouhaha from the ‘Lovebird’ affair took its own leisurely time to quiet down. And, finally things were peaceful again in college. But he was not. His dark urges having been fed, greedily asked for more. Our lone wolf strained his ears in the morning for baying of sheep and at night sat combing through the multitude of confessions for some signs of prey. It was not long before his wishes were granted and he picked up a scent. Election time – campaigns, speeches and promises; mudslinging, back alley brawling and backstabbing – a golden time indeed. The chaos which preceded a vote used to be good enough for him but this time it wasn't to be. For the first time in university history, the boys had rallied behind a single candidate. Though marginal protests existed, there wasn't a shred of doubt in anyone’s mind as to who the Student Council Head would be – Naren. And the dream team which made this possible – Naren, the affable leader, Adrivit, the key strategist, Aryan, t

I suffered through it once, but they fed it to me twice, I am not one for third helpings, so sorry for being nice… Stuck with a problem, soon enough the damsel is in distress… You stop by, calm her with a smile and sort out the mess… But if you go the extra mile and drop some helping advice… Contemptuous stares with icy regards is your reward for being nice… But surely not every one of them is a thankless twit… In some cases this helping out brings friendship as a gift… You talk, share, laugh, and sometimes become good friends… But that’s far as the fairy tale goes, the good days soon enough, end... Down with heartache over love with a jerk, they come to you… Cry out their sorrows, and clueless as always, ask for you to sort this out too… “You are a guy, you should know”, their words to coax out some advice… Give them the logical solution, and it’s as if you are the definition of malice… But again, surely not every one of them is bereft of wit… I

Notwithstanding the silver spoon or the aluminium cup with which we are born, Nature is our great common wealth, priceless with gems like a cool summer morn… And ‘tis a rare beauty that I behold, as I take a stroll down the streets… Broken pavement stones feeling cool beneath the soles, sprouting grass caressing the feet… A small breeze ruffles my hair, sweet and cool like a lover’s sigh… Among the clouds the sun is no furious lord, but a maiden shy… As I turn at the bend, I see some kids frolic, jump and laugh and sing… Dry, beaten bodies, who have known terrible heat, enjoy a burst pipe’s spring… A retired sour magistrate looks on from his balcony and just for a while… Where all his power, wealth does naught to cheer, this merry sight carves a smile… Yon a servant waters her master’s lawns and humming a tune of hope… For once free from sorrows, unmindful of the welts where her drunken husband had groped… Soon I cross the old, almost ancient sweet seller

The first line of the first page reads," So you want a story? I'll tell you one now". And like all of Hosseini's stories, it was a bittersweet one. After The Kite Runner, and A Thousand Splendid Suns, expectations were plentiful from this latest work and also some apprehension, a hope that the author would not fall back to the same manner of story-telling - of lives torn apart by the wars in Afghanistan. Thankfully, he didn't. The story nonetheless is a sad tale of separation of brother and sister, Abdullah and Pari, and of the lives of a few other characters related to the leading two in some fashion. Afghanistan, Kabul to be specific, is again the glue, the common denominator that binds them all - those who lived through the wars, those who exiled and those who came in the aftermath to rebuild. In terms of plot, the story unfortunately is nigh predictable with little surprises but nevertheless it tugs at the strings of your heart and strikes all the right no

He had a simple motto for life – where people play checkers, you play chess. And so, instead of rushing into any hot-headed moves, he planned his steps with methodical beauty. The first few confessions were too lame or too obvious to be of any use. So he waited patiently while people kept filling his arsenal. Finally one day, a confession rang a bell in his mind. Out of the galactic pile of confessions, he connected four dots forming a four star constellation – Akshita, Laveesh, Eleanor, Anirudh. Soon his devilish smirk was lighting his face up as a plan formed in his mind. When all the rough edges were sanded off, he looked up and said,” You cursed me with Asperger’s. Now watch me make use of it”. The spicy pickle these four “stars” were in was this – Laveesh and Eleanor had been in a relationship for quite some time and had recently undergone an ugly breakup. Laveesh turned to his best friend Akshita for comfort and Eleanor likewise turned to Anirudh. What Laveesh and Eleanor w

Negativity clouded these eyes leaving me blind to all that is benign… And then one day my skeptical eyes opened to the everyday divine… It’s amazing how the poorest jokes of my friends stick to my mind… How relieving the base joys of pranks and sheer idiocy I find… Surprisingly these little things bring a spring in the step replacing the plod… For it is in these little things, I feel sublime, I find god… There’s some unearthly pleasure in the silences I share with my love… Looking at those shy eyes, teasing her and getting a playful shove… Even in talking of mundane things, the affection leaves me awed… For it is in those mundane words, I find meaning, I find god… It stumps me how my sister always knows what I want to hear… One smile from her calms me, my heart melts when she calls me “papa bear”… She keeps ribbing me, attacking my back with punches and prods… And in those shots of love, I find unflinching support, I find god… I miss her, rue the

They say relations formed in tough times last They never wither; they never fade into past… Such is a relation I have with a girl A true angel in my life, priceless as a pearl… She brings out the best in me When I am blinded with anger, pain, sadness or irrationality, she makes me see… She stands by me, for me, as solid as a rock For my battered ship on the verge of sinking, she is a long awaited dock… Her deep kind eyes light up my life Her ever encouraging smile boosts me in my strife… Her bubbliness keeps the child in me alive But with maturity and wisdom, she advises me when I am being naïve… Whenever we remember our first meeting, an incident now old She tells me “first impression is the last impression”, in our case, doesn't hold… She says don’t trust me blindly, don’t be so dependent on me And all I say is, I do trust you that way, its involuntary… I don’t know how to describe our relation, friendship’s too small a word It’s also n

For the posterity that now dwells, it is just another legend of yore… But these old eyes have seen his face; these ears still ring with his last roar… Born of royal blood, he was a proud son of great sires… His face a pool of tranquility, but his eyes burned with the holy fire… His flowing mane was a source of jealousy in the pride… His lithe albeit muscular body moved in slow confident strides… When he came of age, on a paradisaical day, he found his great love… The fire in his eyes raged with passion, as he received this blessing from above… Her love, an essence of divinity, brought true happiness in his life… He gave up his ascension to power hungry brothers, and moved out with his wife… Alas, honor seldom begets honor in this crooked world… The venomous snake of evil poised to strike, which till then had lain curled… Treacherous friends and zealous brothers joined forces to take him out… Oh how they maligned his name! Infusing even his ardent lovers

I love you, and am paying the fine, Wishing at some time, in someplace, in some world, you could be mine… Saying that I deserve better, she asks me to move on, And if I disagree, then I am a moron… I give in to her as always, and regretfully obey... After all how can I not do what she says??? I see a girl with eyes round and big, But there’s no twinkling like in my princess’, on which I dig… I see a girl with a complexion fair as snow, But there’s no purity in her like in my princess of which I know… I see a girl with a big and bright smile, But there’s no dazzle as is in my princess’ all the while… I see a girl polite and kind, But there’s no warmth which makes even her rebukes soothing to my mind… She says that I’ll find someone, that I deserve the best... She doesn't understand... It’ll always be she, my princess...my hummingbird... Whom I look for in every girl in my quest…

And so I receive my maiden blogging award. I thank you Prerna - P Subbu's mind-crap (http://worth-a-million.blogspot.in/) from the core of my heart, for all your appreciation. To be honest I do not read blogs much and post my works so that it functions as an online repository (I have a thing with hard drives that crash - and yes I do not maintain a hard copy due to my illegible handwriting). As goes the tradition, I pass on this award to Joshi Daniel's mindblowing photoblog - http://joshidaniel.com/ His pictures speak more than my thousand words... Some other superb blogs I'd like to nominate are - Jahid Akhtar's Flashbacks - http://jahidakhtar.blogspot.in/ Rajkumar's The Traveller - http://www.lamoillehouse.com/ Dr. Sneha Rahatekar's A Colloquy of Bittersweet Love - http://sneharahatekar.blogspot.in/

Life goes on, people come and go... Some turn out to be friends, some foes... I have seen it all, the white dark and grey... Met many people along, in most interesting ways... Such was the case when I first saw her... Her memory stands out among many others... Her big round eyes made my emotionless heart sway... Her cute face and dazzling smile took my breath away... Fair and sweet like a princess of some fairy tale... Her innocent beauty gave me a heady feeling, like Scottish ale... Seasons changed and our friendship grew... We'll hit it off so good I never knew... The euphoria of her friendship gave me a high... My life seemed complete; I believed I could fly... I shared my secrets and past, bared it all... From my all-time highs to my greatest fall... Her childishness kept the child in me alive... A long lost tenderness in me she revived... I remember her coming to me for advice... Talking of her love life in deep long sighs... Life with her then was rosy

Yet another birthday passed by, quite an eventful day… Boundless joys at the wishes that came, for those which didn't, some dismay… A multitude of emotions registered, but through to the core only one did sift… The ethereal happiness which lasts, from receiving several heart-stirring gifts… The Gift of Childhood… As the years passed by something in me was lost… Bitter experiences transformed me to a man serious than most… But all the playfulness and merriment were released from chests long locked… I saw my blithe childhood return, gazing at my sister’s gift – a puerile clock… The Gift of Understanding… People shy away from eccentricity, as now being unusual is akin to being freak… In the savage world of frenzied coders, I am one of the few with a literary streak… The rat race for certificates amuses me, for internships and projects, I never grovel… My pal is the one who understands me, and he gifted me two beautiful novels… The Gift of Encouragem

You wonder if there really is someone for you… The idea to me seems too good to be true… In your every crush, you find the meaning of those four letters… But all of them with a sad smile say, “I am sorry, but you deserve better…” You’ll always be the one they come to for advice… They’ll say your friendship is so special, it cannot be priced… They’ll become your soul-mate; you’ll have found your lover… But when the proposal comes, they’ll say “You deserve better…” Denial brings pain, and yet they won’t allow you peace… Self-obsessed, they’ll ask you “Why me?” begging you “pretty please”… And when they’ve extorted from your broken heart its very last flutter… They’ll hold your hands, cup your face and whisper,” You deserve better”… And they are right; life’s too short to be sad… Love is just one; there are many other experiences to be had… Going through these lines, laugh as you like but never harbor hate… For you, who write your own destiny, if noth

When life awards you with fork-tongued friends, When stabs at your back become too strong to fend, When brown nosing people, with flattery clog your ears, Just pause and look around, I am still here… When life awards you with exhausting, never ending work, When your shoulders hurt with responsibilities you cannot shirk, When pressure of expectations becomes too much to bear, Just pause and look around, I am still here… When life awards you with a romance going nowhere, When the passion fizzes out and a numbness is laid bare, When that dearest person moves away and no one is left near, Just pause and look around, I am still here… Look around and stroll back to the bench from where we began. Sitting with a smile and a wink, you’ll find me as welcoming as one can. With honest criticism I’ll free you from those leaches’ influence. With an arm around your shoulder, I’ll partake in your encumbrance. With a punch to your arm, I’ll clear your mind of the

Silence is not painful, but music to my ears, Loneliness is not dejecting, but a companion most dear. Of the many colored threads from which the social drape is knit, I am the faint line at the border, I am a misfit… The solitary bard I am now, once I too was a wolf in a pack. Base joys tempted me, any path my “friends” chose seemed the right track. But the desire to please everyone, began to take its toll, To be a part of them, I lost my identity as a whole… The love I harbor for literature now was once directed to a girl. The apple of my eyes, I kept her close, as if she was an exquisite pearl. Passion always transforms a man, and so did love, greatest of them all. The relationship molded me to a slave who answered her every call… Terrified as I was of reclusivity, I suffered along in shame. “Love” and “Friendship” robbed me of myself, sparing nothing but my name. I always knew how to laugh at myself, but I too had my human bounds. And so realiza