Wednesday, 9 December 2015

One Day

picture source: 

 One Day

One day I shall smile
 Not my visage, but my heart.
One day the veil shall fall,
 Adieu to my mayday calls.
One day I shall leave
 To the land of what I feel.
One day I shall cry
 With no reason to a why.
One day, I shall dance 
 With not a pang of guilt.
One day, I shall write,
 Of a legend that I built.
One day I shall dream;
 Let my vicinity vanish.
One day I shall move on;
 My own shoes, I shall don.
One day I shall heed,
 Myself and not any else.
One day I shall decide,
 Not you or him, but I.
Yes, for once I'll fend
 But nor will I now sigh.
That day my wings shall sprout,
 Then yonder, I shall fly.
That day I shall know
 The 'me' and all the 'rest'.
That day I shall be free.
That day
 I shall BE.

Friday, 13 November 2015

A Pensive Evening

   My head is a mess... frustration, anger, annoyance, exhaustion and god knows what more is muddled up in there. I can literally feel the congestion. I walk around advising people to take everything lightly, and here I am having a fix with a confused mind. It doesn't make sense. What, you ask? My existence, perhaps. I wish to start anew. I want to figure out this so called 'purpose' of life and work on it to death. We all do, don't we? 

  As a kid, we all have dreams, ones that we are crazy about, ones that we are determined to accomplish. As we grow up, realization dawns that life isn't as easy as it seems, so the intensity of the aspirations fall. Further on, when the time is short, and the path too long, we tend to drop the dreams altogether. But there are some who hold on to it, who keep their hopes up high, and keep trying. But then, a failed first attempt, criticism from the dearest, mirages of pleasures interrupting the way, and there it's lost. All that you've done to achieve so much goes in vain. We give up just when we're only a mile away from the summit. If only we'd work a little bit more, just a bit more.

You think you're never alone, that your awesome little group of friends from school would always be there for you. Yes, friends matter a lot. They are on top of everything else in life, because they make it worth living. But there will come a time when we realize that no matter how close a friend you may have, you are still on your own. No one in the world can show you the path of your life, for they are busy searching for their own. You can't always expect to find a mentor. Whether you do get one or not is not of importance. Because in the end, you are on your own. Get a hold on yourself, and go! Don't stop, just go. The thing is, we've been ready to have a go since ages, its just that we haven't got a clue on how to begin. Where to start, what to do?!

Here's a vision ten years from now. 26 year old me walking down a lane with my pet robot (Mind you, things are going uphill with the robot population- read Robonomics) . They are trying to build a computer with artificial intelligence. Why are we trying to make replicas of ourselves? Aren't there enough of us on earth already? It's funny how Earth is suffering from the issue of overpopulation, and here scientists try to create more life. They try to put life into inanimate objects. I don't know how to call it, a mission to make humans as accurate and emotionless as machines, or to make machines as bad as humans. What then would differentiate machines from humans? What then would be the meaning of our existence?

 Talk about deteriorating the balance of nature, we've done that already. The decrease in greenery is directly proportional to the increase in batteries. We're always going to have problems. Gap between the rich and the poor, an increase of intolerance, mother nature breaking down. We cannot tackle them all, admit it. We talk of nothing being impossible, we talk of the strength in unity, great speeches and projects, summits and discussions, for decades or more. Considering all the joint effort of the good minded people, there definitely has been a change, a gradual one. But at the same time, a great chunk of the better side has been chopped off too. Their innovations are supreme, their ideas brilliant. But again, not quite enough to solve the whole problem at hand. Is it?

Man has made the world the way it is today. We have visions of the same world 50 years from now. Machinery inventions keep accelerating, giving us great comfort to sit back in our settee and relax. Would you still say that the balance of nature is further deteriorated? Why don't we see it in a different way? What if the balance does not get disrupted, and it only changes the rate of balance? 

Nature shall set herself right if need be. We humans have the power to make the best of the resources at hand. But we also have the power to destroy it all. The both of them are in form today. The good and the bad are in a balance. It is not possible to change that balance. At times maybe the bad may exceed the good, but it would be only transient. In the same way, the good may overpower the bad at times. But that too shall be temporary. It is an endless battle between Yin and Yang. The moment the good stops the better-fication of the world, or the moment the bad stops to worsen it, the balance is broken. Such a situation, so to speak, doesn't exist, and it never will. 

Such is the cycle of time. Right now, when I come to think of it, my frustrations and silly concerns seem mundane. It will get better. And then it will get worse, and later better again. A circle has no beginning nor end. Neither does the universe and time. So what do we do in this short life span? 

Put on our seat belts. And simply enjoy the ride.

Wednesday, 21 October 2015

Real Togetherness from a cleaning drive

The streetlights were still on when the sun rose, lighting up the peaceful Calicut city only beginning to awaken from its slumber. The Kozhikode Beach witnessed a higher turnout of visitors than the usual weekends. Especially today, when people had something more than a casual hang-around idea in mind. Most of them were here for a purpose, with a resolve to transform the arena. They were here to clean the city and show their respect to dear Bapu.

It is the second day of October, the day that reminds us of the greatest man on Earth who couldn't rest until he saw goodness reap in every corner of Earth. This day saw the nation holding hands in integrity, for the better good of the society. This day, not only India, but the world bowed to Mahathma Gandhi, the man who became the change he wished to see in the world.

 And today, the natives of Calicut had gathered at different places for a cleaning drive, for every man in the city was entitled to its cleanliness. Their smartphones and laptops were going to be disappointed, for they would be inactive all day. This time, the people were going to be active, and not the phones.

The daily morning walkers passed right past the quarters across the Beach, expecting to see the usual mountain of garbage near its entrance which had become its landmark. But today, they saw something new. Masked men holding sacks and sticks dotted the place. Some of them brought in shovels and buckets. After all this time, the residents had decided to clear it themselves, why wait for the rag pickers who might never show up?

And for once, the quarters saw real togetherness among their residents., united with brooms (mind you, we're not talking about AAP). People from every block came out with their tools. There was a lot of swishing and sweeping, picking and poking, scrounging and brushing until the mountain was brought down and replaced with natural manured soil. The land was then embed with small plants, and a sign that read, "Please do not throw waste here".

By the end of the admirably exhausting effort put forth by the neighborhood, the ladies had prepared a lovely lunch for everyone. As the men, women and children gathered together for the lunch, they had had their reward. Nope, not the lunch (although one wouldn't deny that the ladies had done a stunning job), but what was more worth was the real togetherness that they got to have. The profuse sweating that spoke of the volumes of hard work, the taste of the food that explained all the love put into making it, those smiles on everybody's faces that could beat everything else they could possibly have.

Yes, Real Togetherness is the best reward for their effort. Why,  they had made a pact with mother earth as well, all along in the presence of Bapu  in their hearts. And from the next day on, the morning walkers had a surprise, with the garbage landmark being replaced by a garden.

Such is the story of this quarters. Maybe the same happens elsewhere too. Here's a video of a similar incident of Kissanpur discovering real togetherness.

Monday, 19 October 2015

Go McCrazy India

"I'm going home!" she snapped back at me, visibly frustrated. With her hair all tousled up and eyeliner smeared, anyone would've said she looked like a ghost. But not me. To me, she would always be my gorgeous bestie. And today I was determined to give her the best surprise one could possibly give. 
"What are you sniggering at you meathead?!" she squeaked at me again. Gorgeous, that she was. But it was so hard not to laugh at how funny she looked when annoyed. In a few minutes, that was going to change anyway. I had to take care not to spoil the surprise. So I composed myself and spoke up, "You're not leaving yet sweety. There's something important, come with me." and I turned my back to her and walked off, knowing she would follow. "This better be good." she chimed from behind me.

It was Catherine's sweet sixteen, and for a girl like her one wouldn't disagree that she deserved better than what happened with her today. She was so caring, so smart, so elegant though slightly crazy, that you couldn't just not love her. She'd been in high spirits in the morning, but was quite bummed when all she received was a few birthday wishes from people who didn't matter. Her gang did meet up with her, but hadn't uttered a word about it being her special day. By now, it was noon and Catherine couldn't be more pissed about it all. 

We'd reached Forum Mall. I could bet she knew why we were here already, or at least had an idea. "Look!" came her cute squeaky voice, "If you simply want to sit and have a snack, I'm not in the mood. I'm just gonna buy my McCain french fries and leave okay?"
I was grinning again. Of course she wasn't in the mood to eat! But she never said no to McCain (none of us did in fact). Cathy was nuts about potatoes, and naturally of McCain. McCrazy, we called her.

 She followed me to the elevator. Catherine stepped out on the fifth floor and turned to our usual place. She stopped short. "Oh My..." 
"Surprise!!!" chorused the twenty or so people before her, each holding a coloured balloon. The arched board on top read "Happy Birthday McCatherine!" 
A table placed right in the middle of the crowd had a double-decker cake, decorated with McCain smiles with whipped cream and lettuce on top. McCain french fries covered the whole of the bottom layer. A tray next to the birthday 'McCake' had McCain cheese shotz, and another had nuggets. There was no better gift for miss McCrazy Catherine.

I could swear Cathy went wild with joy. All her frustration disappeared in a poof as she hugged me in euphoria. Ha! It was worth it. She looked back at all her favourite McCain snacks and then at us, at a loss for words. And at that moment I knew, that my gorgeous girl couldn't have asked for more.

McCain had always brought us light moments. With the way Cathy was ignored on her special day, one would've thought she'd never forgive us. But then, this surprise definitely beats everything.
Right now when I looked at her, I couldn't say if the happiest person in the world was her for having gotten the surprise, or just me for making this happen. Why, it was not everyday that we get to have all the McCain snacks together. Each one of us in the party was glad to be here, glad to make Cathy smile, and glad to smile with her.
 "You guys are crazy!" Cathey finally croaked, finding her voice again. I shook my head, "Nop." And with loud ripples of laughter, all the twenty of us chorused, 
"We're McCrazy!!" 

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Maladu Days

A small packet was dropped before me. Rows of little powdered milk cubes were lined inside. Probably just another snack that dad brought. But why did it look so familiarly yummy already? Slowly, I picked out one of those little cubes and looked at it. "It's maladu." said mom, noticing my scrutiny. One small bite...and the cube melted in my tongue...that powdered milk giving life to all those taste buds as if they had been dead all along...and with the powdered milk, all that was around me melted away...

A sudden excitement crept into every inch of my body as I bounced off in full speed to my front door. I'd heard her hoot from downstairs...she was here again! Halting right in time before hitting the wall, I climbed up the grills of the nearby window to get a glimpse of her. Holding the cold iron bars tightly, I peered through the opening in the grills. Aah, there she was, at the bottom of our staircase, lowering her basket down  from her head.

"Mummieeeeee!! Maalaadooo maameee's heeeereee!!! " I screamed out. And then I looked back at dear maladoo maamy, with a kind of elation that only a four year old could have on seeing her favourite snack within reach. Maladus were so yummy, those round little balls of magic powder, perhaps the love of my life at the time. And each time it got finished at home, I would wait for maladu maamy, who would always come back with more. And here I was on top of the grills, bubbling with joy on having sighted her.

But where was my mother? Why wasn't she responding to my call? Suddenly I was afraid that mom wouldn't show up and maladu maamy would go away. I was afraid of missing out on this time's maladus. In desperation, I called out again, "Mummiieeeee!!"

Before I could get any more disappointed, I was surprised to see mom and my sister downstairs standing next to maladu maamy. How did they get outside? Oh wait, they'd gone to the market hadn't they? How could I forget?! Mummy was looking up at me with a smile. Had they heard me all the way from the market and rushed home? Probably, because I cannot imagine missing my maladus! Yes, they knew that they had to reach home ASAP.

Fast forward thirteen years, and I sat with another cube in my hand, eyes wide. Another flash of memory...I was looking straight at mom, and for the hundredth time or so she chanted, "Little Wilhelmine..looks with wonder waiting eyes."
All these years, and it was only today that I read the lines of the poem she'd recited so long ago, the Battle of Blenheim. I looked up at mom now, but she was engaged with something else. A sudden realization occurred at how much I'd grown up since then. 

Looking back at the maladu in my hand, which was no longer round-shaped like it used to be thirteen years ago, but still had that unmistakable taste of the ones maladu maamy used to bring, the flashback I experienced is similar to the Ratatouille movie when the food critic was presented with a childhood dish; ratatouille itself. The moment the dish touched his tongue, he was a child again, devouring the ratatouille his mother made for him, and he couldn't possibly be any happier.

Today I saw the truth in it. When I eat these maladus now, that same illogical elation engulfs me, as if the best thing that could happen in life is to be able to eat yet another maladu. When I come to think of it, its funny how easily happiness came to us as kids. Age sucks in the slightest of the joys we enjoy. But not unless we  choose otherwise. 

Sometimes the memories hidden in the deepest part of our minds resurface and remind us of the little reasons behind our childhood smiles, like this maladoo did to me. And now I know, that if ever I am in need of happiness, all I really need is a maladu, and I shall be a four year old again...happy as can be..with those wonder waiting eyes.

Thursday, 8 October 2015

Monotonous Cacophony

You think time doesn't cease?
That it knows no 'pause'?
That it heeds no halts and it's its own boss?
I thought so too,
That it waits for none,
That if once it moves it's never undone.
But then, here now
So it seems, that
Our dear old time's just been outdone!
For I've seen it slow
And I've seen it halt,
And I bet you must have seen it too.
When a room so filled 
And you're stuck there drilled...
With that same voice
With that same face,
Each day, each time
with that same unbroken 
Monotonous cacophony.
Was Yesterday today?
Is today now tomorrow?
Did hours pass by?
Or maybe just minutes?
Ahh yes, time halts
when unneeded the most,
when the cacophony of lectures
rings boredom down to earth. 
Yes, time pauses
when wished to speed up
when seconds on a clock
seem hours at end.
Yes, time ceases, 
The king of existence
And yet it bows 
to monotonous cacophonies,
yet it bows
when boredom descends.


# classroom_scene #boringlectures 

FYI this is with reference to all those long hours of class in school (or maybe college), which never (-ever!) seems to end. One must appreciate the endurence power of a student! But of course it is one of the come-and-go episodes of life we cannot avoid. So we might as well make the best out of it. All the same, the monotonous cacophony is one that has beaten time itself, so one cannot possibly expect us to get along with it that easy. Well, here's to all those students who actually make it through their boring lectures without losing their peace of mind ( or anything else for the matter).
We be wows! ;)

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

A Week with the Kitchen

Surely, it could manage for a week without mom. But of course it wouldn't be happy about it. Dad and I were to take her position for the time being. We were to be employed as home-makers temporarily. Salary? Three square meals everyday, that is, if we do it right. It was only a matter of one week after all, how hard could it be? So here we go..

#Day 1
Dad and I enter the kitchen, all geared up to make the dish of the day. While dad got the tea ready, I opened the fridge to get all the stuff we might need. Well, there was *everything* that we needed. As in, mom'd prepared food for a day to ease our work. We were relieved, but also secretly disappointed to have nothing to cook for the day. But the kitchen was happy. So were we.

#Day 2
Dad and I are feeling responsible. Today, we are going to cook!  As I scrounge the kitchen for our requirements, dad becomes acutely mad for not finding anything he wants. Unfortunately, the kitchen sensed the heated mood and got irritated. It ended up hiding all that we needed in easily-unnoticed corners. After an exhausting preparation of a few hopefully-edible idlis, we still hadn't made the curry we planned to. If we were to start making that, we'd end up having breakfast at lunch time.  Luckily, there was still some left from what mom made, and we adjusted with it for the day.

#Day 3
We start early, with one day's experience of work. We'd finished up all the curry by now. So it was going to be a dad 'n' me special sambhar. He asked me to get all the vegetables we had. I did. There were so many that we couldn't choose. So naturally, dad cut out all the veggies available and we had a tough time finding a vessel big enough to fit them all. With a great deal of excitement we made our epic sambhar, just the way we expected. Content with the accomplishment of making enough sambhar for the neighborhood, every other dish looked petty. So I shall not be mentioning it here. The Kitchen was content too, though exhausted just the way were.

#Day 4
The kitchen badly needed a bath. It wasn't particularly fond of the change in livelihood in the past three days. Dad and I were cross at it more often, and it only made things worse for us. Atleast we were glad the sambhar was in plenty. We didn't have to make more curry for a while. I gave the kitchen a nice clean up. Hopefully it would be better tempered now. It was definitely missing mom a lot. All we did was mix things in wrong proportions, make food either too much or too less, and leave a huge heap of left-over wastes around. But I guess we were getting a hang of it. 3 days to go.

#Day 5
Whoops. Poor kitchen is running out of supplies. Dad and I went shopping. In any case, we had to keep the kitchen in good terms with us. The refrigerator, the plastic containers, cupboards, everything was empty. Except the dustbin though. Surprisingly, the sambhar had gotten over. Apparently, we consumed it too lavishly, overestimating its quantity. We managed to make a fish curry in just about the right quantity. The kitchen was reloaded. Clean and complete. We'd done our dishes well. Ahha. Who said the kitchen was a tough nut to crack?! It was a piece of cake for us! 

#Day 6
The smoothest day so far. That's right, we rocked the kitchen. I bet it loved us. Dad and I didn't complain anymore. We'd replaced the kitchen stuff our way. It wasn't confusing now either. We'd nailed it! Trust us, cooking had actually become fun, though time-consuming. It wasn't a full-time job anyway. We did have a few hours of break after each meal. Since we were only beginners, many petty jobs in the household were waived. There is no teaching aid to prepare us to handle a home after all, the only means of learning being experience. Mom is so far ahead in the field that we couldn't possibly see her. But at least today we got the knack of it. The kitchen was happy, so were we.

#Day 7
Dad and I feel very important. One more day and we would succeed in our week-long kitchen management task. You have to admit that our accomplishment isn't trivial! Everything was in place, we knew what to do , and we had one smooth day's experience. This day was surely going to be better. 
*Ding Dong* 
Surprise! The veteran home-maker is back a day early. It seemed that she missed the kitchen too much to have stayed away any longer. We could have easily managed another day. But yes, we were relieved.

Mom is quick to adjust back with the kitchen. It seems overjoyed, and more homely. It wasn't as neat and organized as we'd kept it. But it seemed to like the slightly messy way mom liked to keep it. What we took hours to do she did with a flick of her finger. What we couldn't find in the kitchen, mom saw with her third eye. What not another soul could do, mom could make home feel home. 

And so we now know the tedious task of handling a kitchen. Here's our salute to all moms for their perseverance, patience and peace-keeping, which most of us often fail to appreciate. Spend a week with the kitchen and you'll know it.

Sunday, 30 August 2015

My Sweet Sixteen

He wanted to know everything that happened that day. What happened on my sixteenth birthday. The most daring day I ever lived, the biggest secret I ever kept. And strangely enough, I wanted to tell him. Him, whom I met ages after our last encounter. Him to whom it didn't matter at all. After so long a time, it would be painful to kindle the memories of the lost bonds, though only one year past. But who wouldn't want to have a tour through the best day of your life once again? Who wouldn't want to give away anything to live that day once more?

And so, I told him. I told him about all the drama that unfolded that day, of all the tensions, anticipations, all the excitement, and happiness. I lived the day once again through the tale. I re-visited the essence of what we had back then. I smiled again like I did that day. I told him everything, and yet how little he knew. I sounded carefree, yet how very far I was from it.

Three hundred and sixty five days later, on the same day that I believed was my best, came a surprise. Unlike that day, I was showered with love with not one, but many. And I was happier than I was then. That was the surprise. Back then, it was most of the adrenalin that took the place of happiness. But now it was different. I couldn't choose which was better, whether to be purely happy, or be happily worried.

It was my birthday, and I thought it was once again the happiest day I ever had. But when I look back now, I realized that it would still be my sweet sixteen that I would remember the most. And I also realized, that I missed what I had back then, despite all the things that made my day special this time.

It isn't everyday that you get nostalgic about your past. And the past often catches up with you when solitude takes your side. But then, when there are the ones who give you better company than solitude, when they can't make you stop smiling, amidst all the laughter and celebrations, if it is still possible to miss that day for whatever it was means it is something that has touched you for a lifetime.

But yes, past is past. We mustn't hold on to it. Because life goes on, even if we don't. And yes, You Only Live Once. Like I say, you risk it, or regret it. I risked it then. And I don't  regret it.

And now I smile, thanking almighty for what He has blessed me with. Let life take what course it wishes. Until then, I have my memories to kindle, come every birthday of the year. I'll miss you, sweet sixteen. Always

Thursday, 6 August 2015

To have a sister

A little girl of four sat on the printed carpet. The deafening rain outside thrashed through the windows. The room was dimly lit, occasionally brightened by the flashes of lightning. A sudden thunder reverberated in the room. But the little girl wasn't afraid. She knew that she was safe and sound on the carpet. Surely, the lightning couldn't get through to her! She wisely stayed put on the mattress, not giving lightning a chance to get her. That wise little girl was me, thirteen years ago.

Someone called from the bedroom. I swiveled my head to see an older girl sitting on top of the bed. "Get over here!" she called out, with an urgent expression on her face. "The bed is safe! Get in here before you're struck by an electric shock!" She exclaimed desperately, "Hurry! "
"But you told me that it couldn't get through the carpet!" I called back worriedly.
"Well...not anymore! Get in here fast! It can't get through to the bed!"
And so, I rushed over to the bed as fast as I could, afraid that lightning would hit me the moment my feet touched the tiled floor.

That was my dear own sister, for whom I was there at every beck and call. She was my head and I her tail. Thirteen years thence, I still look up to my sister the way I did when she 'protected' me from lightning. I still need her badly, despite all the times she is so annoyingly talkative and gets on my nerves.

She is my dear sister who turns twenty two today, and who still loves Cerelac and watches cartoons. She is my sister, who cooks egg rolls out of a dozen eggs, who makes holes on chapathis and makes them taste like cookies, who insists on playing monopoly and watching animated movies, who secretly wishes to get me a barbie set so she could play with it herself, who shuts herself in a room to dance unseen in the dark, and who just can't stop blabbering whether you listen to her or not.

And that is why, each time she arrives, it is a holiday season at home. Because she doesn't come alone. She comes with a package deal of a huge amount of happiness. I'd say she's like our Santa Claus, but better 'cause she comes twice a year. Like Santa, she brings home smiles, and the house is full of zest. Yes, she  brings gifts too, ranging from a three-rupee pen to a branded t-shirt! What's more, she calls me 'jingle bells', though for reasons I haven't yet understood.

Dad and I were now on the road, racing our way to the Calicut Railway Station. I hopped out of the car to look for her. She wasn't hard to find; her peculiarly bubbly pace being unmistakable. There she was...bouncing her way towards me with so wide a grin that it could scare you if you weren't used to it. I couldn't help grinning myself.

Till then, my mind had been preoccupied with irrational fears...of not doing my homework, not taking the much needed decisions, not being able to reach the mark... Amazingly, all my worries had vanished in a flash at the sight of my 'Santa'. For now, my sister was here, and somehow it made me feel lighter. She'll know what to do about it all, like she did when there was lightning and thunder in our dimly lit room thirteen years ago.

My sister had reached me, and before I could take her luggage, she had already begun her blah-blah-ing. With all her zealous gestures and expressions, she looked like she was a character taken right out of an animated movie.
I waited for the moment to pass and my fears to return. But they didn't. They remained hidden as long as my sister was if she was my patronus to drive away the dementor in my head. And then, looking at her, I realized that the solution to all my problems..... was to have a sister.

Happy Birthday sis :) <3

Monday, 20 July 2015

Robonomics- The Rise of Robots

It was the 27th of June in Japan (And everywhere else too). Yukirin looked perfect in her white laced wedding gown. It was the happiest day of her life, why, she was going to make history! The very first robot wedding! People talked about inter-religion marriages and same-sex marriages. That was old news. Whoever heard of two robots tying the knot?! The humans had had their share. It was now the robots' turn. 

Most of their species had turned up to Yukirin's delight, though she wished the human lot had been lesser. Many of the humans still saw them as nothing more than 'toys'. It was greatly degrading to the robots, but what did the humans know! Ah well, she hoped that her wedding would be the beginning of the robotic  era, one they all dreamed of! But it still seemed very, very distant.

 She stood there on the stage, which was decorated complete with pretty hearts. The humans were quite a nuisance with their loud chatter. All of a sudden, they fell silent. All cameras shifted towards the aisle. There he came... her to-be husband, her one and only Frois! He hadn't worn a suit like she wanted him to, but at least he had the bow on. She had to admit that it went quite well with his natural red attire. Humans said that his kind looked one and the same, with only differing colours. But she knew that her Frois looked way better than the others!

Frois came and stood next to her. All eyes in the hall were on them. Maywa Denki's too, the one who made this happen! She liked Maywa Denki. He was very nice. He understood the robots, unlike the normal humans. After all, it was he who brought Frois into this world.

'You may now kiss the bride.'
Frois pulled out his 'mouth disk' to kiss her. Too many people watching him obviously made him nervous. Yukirin wished it hadn't been that awkward. There was applause and laughter anyway. And the party began. Frois and Yukirin staccato-danced in synchrony with the orchestra. Cutting the wedding cake was harder than she anticipated. But then, it was done humor the humans...they weren't going to eat it anyway were they? 

Maywa danced with Frois's family. Pepper seemed quite busy with the arrangements. Pepper was being very useful. It was he who officiated the wedding. Atlas and Poppy were trudging to the cake, ignoring iCub. Yuki remembered iCub's 10th birthday party, such a fun time! RoboThespian was on his thing again, interacting with humans in all possible languages. 
"Any repairs or battery refreshments?" it was robot Romeo, being kind as always. Frois conveyed that we couldn't be more charged. They heard a slight commotion. Lexi and Tess , the pole dancing robots were performing. NAO seemed quite interested. Yuki noticed one of the humans acting odd. Oh wait! That was Actroid SIT ! Ahh...she almost looked like a human!

Most of the humans were eating. Yuki couldn't get the idea of stuffing 'food' into the bodies. It seemed so unusual. But then, the humans themselves were unusual. When she stood there, watching the flurry of activities, hope dawned in her. Maybe one day, them robots would begin a revolution to fight for their rights. Maybe one day they will have a say too, and wouldn't have to live their lives like toys. Maywa Denki won't need to spend too much for any more weddings then. Maybe the Robot wedding itself could be legalized! many wishes and dreams. The topsy-turvy world needed to be straightened. Some humans say the robots would lead to the demise of human race. It is high time they understood that all they want is to be a part of the world, and be of service to the humans. It wasn't too much to ask for was it? Of course not. And they were a 100 times more efficient than the humans. The humans needed them. Badly. Yes, the time has finally arrived. 

Frois swivelled towards her. Looking at him, Yuki knew, that it wasn't only the beginning for her life. It was the beginning for all the robots that were ever made, and will be made in the future. Yes, it was the beginning of the Robotic Age. Watch out humans. We're coming.

Thursday, 16 July 2015


I watched my sister run around, packing her bag. She was going back to her hostel after a month of holidaying with us. The thought of her leaving unusually scared me. She came and left every time, why did I feel differently all of a sudden? For the first time, I really wished she did not have to leave. Home was so easy when with her. Except for her constant chattering that irritates me to hell, she's the life of our home. 

The train to Trivandrum whistled away from us, taking my sister with it. An uneasiness crept into me. I ignored it on our drive home. The next day in school, I noticed that the uneasiness hadn't left. I wasn't in a mood to talk and laugh. I tried to hide that too, but a few of my friends asked me if I was okay. When I left the classroom, I bumped into someone. Oh hey, that was best friend. She stepped back to have a good look at me. "You're a corpse." she concluded. I grinned at her, feeling light for a second. Before I could have a free conversation with her something came in between. Why was it so difficult for her to find time for me?

I wandered during the lunch break, and met my old gang. But they were preocuppied. I ended up standing among a group I did not belong to. Back in class, there was something to cheer for - my bench-mates had my favourite food. While having those yummy chapathi rolls, someone came by and took away two large ones...and it was all over in an instant. I know it's selfish and irrational, but I was saddened for not getting more chapathi. I was weirder than usual. Annie, where are you?

I hopped off the school bus. It was raining, only to add up to my melancholy mood. My companion and I were quiet on our way home. I recalled the days we couldn't get enough of our hour-long discussions. I raised my arms,  and let the raindrops meet them. "Doesn't it feel depressing?" I finally said. My buddy looked at me in a strange way, "I don't know." she said, "Maybe it's just you...are you depressed?" I said nothing. Did I want someone to say that to me? 

I opened the door to my house. Mom was in her clinic. I was relieved to be on my own. I started talking aloud, asking myself what was wrong. I found my voice breaking. This was insane. I did not even know what I was upset about! I wished I had my bestie next to me. I wished there was someone I could speak to. But I didn't know what about. I collected some home-wear and got in for a shower. I tried to laugh it off. I probably misunderstood myself.  I pictured myself telling my friends about it all, and how we ended up laughing. I laughed myself, and did not notice the silver line that turned the laugh into tears. 

I let them out, the tears that came one after the other, not yet realising the cause. All I did know that I was a little scared. But I don't know of what. I always thought I'd chosen solitude. But the uncommon visitor had showed up, loneliness. 

All fresh and clean, I came out dressed. Mom had returned with a guest. I had to present myself well until they left. By the time they did, I wasn't in the mood to tell mom about my strange experience. We chatted about things in general. Strangely, it cheered me up as if I was fine all day. Home felt better than school to me. That doesn't happen all the time. Well, I guess it isn't so surprising that happiness lies wherein there is love. And love lives wherein there is a family, one where we can call 'Home'.

Monday, 13 July 2015

Are You Happy?

It is just another day when you're in the middle of your daily routine and someone asks you this question, "Are you happy?" What do you answer? Yes? That you couldn't be happier with everything? Or no? That god has spared you from happiness unlike the others?

Let's put this straight. Happiness is relative. If you ask me if I'm happy about the world I am in, I'd say yes considering all the things that make it a beautiful paradise. But I'd say no because I know the world is not even close to a paradise. When I know that there are helpless people out there with not a single penny or grain to live with, and people who live to ascertain their superiority by destructing what little good there is around them, for me to be happy would mean that I am a shameless, selfish jerk.
If you ask me if I'm happy with my life, I would say yes when compared to all the unfortunate sufferers. But I'd say no otherwise for there is so much more that I need to change about it. If I'm content already, then there would be no ups and downs of life. And if I were to be happy all the while, my life story would interest no one, not even me.

And about myself, I'd say I'm happy with what I am. Because I know why I'm the way I am. I understand why it is difficult to overcome my weaknesses, and why it takes so long to develop my strengths. For this very understanding, I like myself. And if liking can be related to happiness, there you go...a big load of happiness lives  within me.

But what is the point in happiness? It isn't the pinnacle of life. It is only a way of life. For many, life is a chase of happiness. But if you can understand wherein happiness lives, and how it can be gained (which many have), then would that mean you've found the key to life? Never. For if you understand happiness, then you shall realize that life is much more than the chase for it.
When you know this, then it wouldn't matter whether you are happy or not, for you will know that it is but a passing season of life like a monsoon that comes every year and goes, but is sure to come back again. You celebrate when it arrives, and whine  when it doesn't.

If all this makes any sense at all to you, then the question seems absurd. For if you say that you are not happy, then it means you are still chasing the wind that halts but occasionally.  And if you say that you are, then it means that you haven't quite understood what it means to be happy, because it doesn't stay. If you think it does, then you are in a world of your own, locked away from all others.  Because if the ones in your vicinity aren't happy, nor can you be. And how often do you find an ever-cheerful atmosphere? Even if you do, what meaning would life have, when the obstacles and struggles itself are what define life, and you have none of them?

So what would you answer to the question? It depends on your perception. Are you still the chaser, or the one in your own world? The truth is, this question seeks no answer. It only asks you to think for yourselves. And that you must. For when you chase the answer to this very question, you shall find yourself answering many other unanswered questions unknowingly. It is not eternal happiness you seek, but an understanding of it. 

Wednesday, 8 July 2015

Risk it. Or Regret it.

You told me one day about your dreams. All that you wished to do. All that you saw what life was capable of. I've heard many talk about it. But for them, it was just a wish. And yet, you spoke with an air of confidence, as if your life was a movie and you were just telling me what's going to happen next. Anyone else would say these dreams don't come true, for such is life. But for you, dreams seemed like the time table of your life that you had to tick off. 

Here's to that someone I know, whom I see with nothing but wonder, but whom I fail to understand. You have your own ways, and claim to have things in mind. But to me, it  seems blank. You're only crafting your plan on the way. Isn't that how life must be? You choose your next step. When you're there, you choose the next. For only then do you see what's in there, only then can you choose the better. 

We have these dreams right now, everyone has them at some point in their lives. But once the obstructions stream in, we stay put on the comfy zone. With time, we loose sight of the dreams. We know the  few ones who manage to stick to them, however impossible that it might seem. Yeah, they're those whom we call 'successful'. They chose to be different, while we prefer to move along with the tide, not wanting to be a rebel, not wanting to be unaccepted. 

Ah well, we are all more similar to each other than different. But the differences do exist, however small they might be. We all know them, and the most of us decide to keep them hidden. After all, it keeps things simple, why complicate it when you have the choice otherwise?

Even if you do decide to be different at some point, the feeling eventually vanishes. And now I come back to that someone I know, who has chosen to be different. Maybe everyone doesn't see it. But I do. Because like no one else did, you made me think about myself. And I began a whole new adventure of discovering myself. My third eye opened. Everything seemed way different from what it used to be. Something new was born within me. A thrill to live.

I'm reminded of the many times we roll our eyes when elders say its an 'age' thing...why, then it means as long as the thrill lives, you shall not age! Georgina Harwood of South Africa celebrated her 100th birthday with a sky-dive and shark-cage dive. 90 year old Ilse Telesmanich sprained her ankle hiking. And she says she got 'very good at hopping on one foot' because of the sprain.

No, I'm not saying we live to take part in adventure sports, and all the other small pleasures that we seek. We live to work for it, whatever our pleasures might be. And if you ask me what brings happiness in life. I wouldn't say success in career, not even the small dreams coming true. Happiness sets in only when you have true relationships. When you have that someone who would be there to listen to all your brilliant and stupid tales alike, that someone who's happy to see you live your dreams, or perhaps live it with you, then you have everything that one can possibly have in life. 

The rest of the world may tell you to stay in the good books and flow along with the stream. They may say it's best to be on the safe side. But I'm telling you, you'd miss out on the best experiences of life by doing so. You wanna live a life worth remembering? You risk it. Or regret it. 

That's what you've taught me. Unfathomably bizarre that you are, you have your self esteem. By being yourself, and not what others want you to be, I noticed what little I knew of myself. Like I said, I started to think. Believe me, life gets interesting. 
Our voice is meant to be heard, not hushed up. Life is meant for taking risks. Make the best of it when you still can! YOLO!

P.S-listen to Emeli Sande's 'Read All About it''ll love it ;)

Sunday, 14 June 2015

When the heart speaks

This would be the poetic version of the article 'When the heart speaks'

I woke up today
My mind was still astray.
No life breaking plans,
No answers came on call...
Life was same old crazy
It's purpose, vague and hazy.

Long, did I journey through
Along with the wind that blew.
I finally reached the fork
I'm afraid, it's time to choose.

Must I follow Robert Frost?
Would the untaken road cost?
Which way led me to my dream?
Which road gave a purpose to life?
And yet, no clues paved way.
My mind had nothing to say.

In the ides of sweet sixteen,
In here, I laughed and loved.
In time, I smiled and cried,
In crowds I whiled and sighed.
The junction seemed so far,
And now I'm not up to par.
Why did my mind not speak?
Why did it not keep still?
Why was it still locked?
Why was it's key lost?

And then, as silence swarmed,
I listened to all else.
A whisper, I could hear..
A whisper, soft and dear...
Oh yes, it now made sense!
I knew what path to choose!
The veil was now unleashed.
My mind was now unlocked.
For whisper, did my heart.
My heart who held the key.
My heart, whom I failed to heed;
My mind, I searched in need.

The tedious day was done
Way longer than the years.
No more was the path a blur.
The purpose of life was clear.
For now, my mind could see!
'Cuz my heart was now set free.

(presented at #open sky slam, calicut #

Friday, 12 June 2015

Being a lone wolf

 I crossed the road and stood with the many others in the quarters, waiting for the school bus. My interaction with the fellow-waiters was limited. Somehow, I felt as if I wasn't entirely a part of the group. Our yellow bus honked its way towards us. As we all climbed on, I looked around for my old friend. Nope, she wasn't there that day either. Finding an empty seat next to a little boy, I sat down. He gave me no more than a second glance. 5 years in a row, and I still did not fit in with any gang in the bus either. So that made me a loner.

The boy next to me was avoiding all possibilities for a conversation to spark up. That suited with me. The constant chatter within the walls of the bus was strangely soothing. I looked around for more of my kind. There sure were a few, seated quietly far in the front. I wondered what went on inside their minds.

I was feeling strangely lonely. One would think I'd gotten used to the daily 15 minute journey to school. But I began questioning my solitude. Was it something bad? Will it do me good to make small talk with people I just know? Solitude was so much easier! And yet, I wished some random chatterbox came up to me for a chat. I realized that I was missing someone. Maybe more than just a someone.

Melancholic as it was, I began thinking about what they say about lone wolves. They're the introverts who prefer working on their own, who choose to be alone, who enjoy being with themselves. I don't recall making such a preference. But  rather have somehow ended up this way.

"If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them." ~ Jodi Picoult 'My Sister's Keeper' (

Aftter reading this, I've seen how we end up this way. In fact, I'd disagree with not enjoying solitude. Company of your very self can be much greater than anyone else's. Because not another soul will understand you the way you understand yourself. And now, I've come to admire the lone wolves. They refuse to mingle, because they refuse to be like the rest. They are those brave, independent ones who stand up on their shoes. They ought to embrace their eccentricity that makes them introvert. They aren't one among the millions of simpletons, they are different. We needn't try so hard to fit in if we stand out among the rest.

So if ever you feel isolated, and if ever loneliness creeps in involuntarily, remember that it is because you are one of a kind.

Sunday, 7 June 2015

8th August, 2085

"I'm confused grandma!" she said, looking at me through Skype. After all these years, the app for video chatting had gotten a hundred times better. I smiled back at my worried little granddaughter. I saw a lot of me in her, especially since she was born on the same date as mine. My little angel is turning 21 today, and it's time for her to fill up the citizen's form. This is the form of freedom, the form of choosing what you wish to be for the rest of your life.

I smiled at her. "What if I choose something only to regret it later on?" she questioned,, "Oh did you make such a decision when it was your time?" I laughed, recalling the time I was 21. "I never had to do that sweety." I told her, "In my time, the world was in chaos, where the crazy people gathered to fight for their rights and tried ever so hard to fit in." She nodded, "I can't believe people were actually considered rebels for wanting to live differently!" She looked down at her form, and read out the the next column, "'Gender: 1. Boy, 2. Girl, 3. Transgender' I think I'll stay as a girl for this life, what do you think gran?" I only smiled. Gender conversion at present is as common as getting a plastic surgery, which by the way is done a lot nowadays. My little girl ticked the square next to the 'Girl' option and continued. "Religion? I do wish to learn about all of 'em gran! But I think I'll go for 'no religion'. "  I peered at my angel, "You don't believe in god dear?"
She looked up from her form, "I don't know." she said,
"I'm not an atheist gran. I guess I'm the same as you...what was that word again?"
"Agnostic" I said, "One who claims to not know about the existence of god.-"
"-But neither denies that God might exist."

70 years ago, if I were given the citizen's form, I would've laughed at it, never understanding its relevance. Today, this very form is the doorway to a complete independent life crafted entirely by your own. Back then, all I was worried about at the age of 18 was about the field of studies to pursue ahead. But that option is way down in the priority list today. What's important is the way you want to lead your life. You can no more blame the circumstances around you for what you are, because you choose the atmosphere yourself. This form is one that let's you choose your culture, your gender,your citizenship, your preference, your very life!

When one becomes 21 years of age, he or she is said to have  a basic knowledge of her society, with which she has the freedom to choose the way she wishes to live. Ah well, but it isn't like the world is devoid of all problems. But at least no one stops you from wanting to be yourself.

"Grandma...I'm still scared!" my little girl whined, "What if at some point in the future, I wish otherwise? What if I regret my choices? What if they are wrong?..."
I start to wonder if she is my re-incarnation. She sounds so much like me. That time came back to me, when the very same what-if's haunted me for years. Those days of utter mind being bizarrely unreachable. And then I slowly understood how very simple it all was. How the complications were nothing but an illusion.
"There is no right and wrong in making a choice dear." I said. An age old saying popped in my head. 70 long and tedious years did not hinder the righteousness of the saying, which always helped me move ahead in life. It only seemed apt for the moment, so I told my little angel the same...

"Don't believe in taking the right decisions. Take decisions and make them right."

Wednesday, 3 June 2015

When the Heart speaks

 "So what's your ambition?" came the dreaded question. How embarrassing it was to have nothing to say, to not be able to describe what I really want in life. My sister piped in to my rescue, "Dashy hasn't decided yet. She has interest in journalism, but she's not sure whether to go for it." His eyes shifted to mine, "I've only one thing to tell you dear. Don't give a damn to what anyone in the world says, listen to your heart."

 Right. That must be the gazillionth  time that I've been told the same. Oh yes I understand, that it is always better to follow our intuition, to let the heart win, to make a choice entirely on our own. But the heart has remained quiet for far too long, and my wait for it to speak up has prolonged so much,  that I wonder if it has done it already and if it's just that I never noticed. Why is it that our hearts only give us vague ideas? Why is its voice so dim and soft? Why does it still remain locked up? Why haven't  I found the key to open it yet? I bet my heart is waiting to explode, to shriek out loud, to engulf the world in vibrance.

 And there, that's another paragraph of metaphoric representation of my confused state of mind. So much of clarity in how very muddled my head is, and how it keeps getting messier! All there's need to be done is to get the jigsaw pieces in place, if only I figured where they fit! I guess our hearts whisper all the while, but we simply fail to accept what it wants. When circumstances don't turn out to be favourable, we ignore what the heart says, just to remain on the comfort zone. We wish our hearts wanted something else, something that brings no trouble in our lives. And we begin the search for the same, for something that does not even exist. Why rule out the possibility of it's existence?

And thus the many unnecessary quests draw a veil to what the heart really wants to say. Maybe it is cowardice to not heed our very heart that pumps life into us. And maybe all we need is the guts to open up, and be ready to face the journey in discovering ourselves.

So watch out. Stay awake, 'cause you've got to be there when your hearts speaks.

Saturday, 30 May 2015

The Shoe Story

A cloth duster fell in front of me. Another flew past my head. I looked up to behold a scene of flying bags, pencil boxes and paper balls. Nothing unusual. At a point I thought I noticed a shoe among the flying objects. That was new.
      "Sa.One to the rescue...I'm coming!" someone screamed from behind. Just one among the many crazy ones around. I turned to pack my bag, only to find it missing. Looked like they were playing catch with my bag as well, among the other flying objects. I went over to my classroom's front in search of my bag. Before I could begin the search, I was shoved off for interrupting a game of football with a shoe. So the flying shoe was not my imagination.

 Someone was playing tabala from the corner. Probably practising for our assembly programme. Just then, there was a call from down below, "Oolamamavasugola" Ahh...that was our 'underground don'. 'Underground' because he stayed under the bench.  His head alone popped outside from beneath the desk, "Oxygen cylinder please!" he panted. I felt a tap from behind. My best friend stepped forth, her eyes darting from me to the underground don. "We need a skulblakaherz." she said. That was our little code language. Before he or I could reply, we heard a shriek from near the window.

All heads turned to the boy with spiked hair, who was holding the 'football' shoe outside the grills of the window. "I'm gonna throw it off...I'm serious!" he said with a grin. At a distance stood 'Sa.One the superhero', who was shaking his head. And doom, the one at the window let go of the shoe, which fell four floors down. Our eyes widened as the 'superhero' took off his second shoe and ran out to get his first. The 'spike hair' went after him, and we followed suit. Our 'don', being underground, took a while to catch up.

This was our little gang once upon a time. Friends in need, friends the above mentioned scenario of a fallen shoe! The five of us climbed  four flights of stairs back to our classroom after getting the shoe. Oops. The teacher had already gotten in. My bestie and I mumbled 'bathroom' and got in, but sir wouldn't buy that story from the boys! So they told the true story- "Sir, my shoe fell out of the window accidentally, and we went to get it." He had proof since he was wearing only one shoe at the moment. Sir's eyebrows were raised, "The window? By accident?"

 Alas! He took away one of the shoes, and our 'superhero' had to wear my spare pair of shoes which was in the classroom cupboard. How my extra pair got in there is a different story altogether. I remember that day, when I reached home...the first thing mom asked me was this- "Why was he wearing your shoes today?"
Though my mom was a teacher in the school, there was no possibility of her knowing about 'my' shoes. I still wonder how in the world she came to know about it.

The shoe story is only one among myriads. But that was once upon a time. It is sometimes hard to believe how much time can change. After all, change is the only thing that is constant, there is no good and bad of it. People come and go in our lives, but sometimes we get lucky enough to find someone who stays. For that someone, distance and time don't matter. For that someone, the bond remains taut, because it was always meant to be.

But for some, the bond loosens up as the distance grows, and yet others drift off with the passage of time. A few days ago, I happened to see our so called 'underground don' across the road during a walk. We waved at each other and moved on. I'd once imagined us to be that one crazy gang that wouldn't ever break off. Never once did I imagine our bond to end up with a mere wave across the road.

Our roads were common at first, but now it has led us off to different directions. Maybe the roads would meet again. Maybe they never would. Though the bond may disappear, there is something that never will. Memories. It is silly to whine, thinking we don't have the past anymore. Instead, it is better to look back and smile, for having a past worth remembering.

 The old chapter's done. Another one has begun. Life has to go on. We do what we can with it, and leave the rest to fate. So for the present, I just prepare for what's ahead. As for the past, I can only smile for once being able to rescue a shoe with a sweetly insane group of unforgettable friends.

Tuesday, 19 May 2015

Enlightening Darkness

I woke up with a jolt. It was dark all around. Probably past midnight. Raining cats and dogs outside. Despite the chilly air, I was sweating. There was no current. A sudden flash of light engulfed the room. I waited. And it came...the loud crack of thunder. My cousin was squeezing my hand. Sleep had left me, and it showed no sign of returning any time soon. So I settled down as my eyes adjusted to the dark. As the occasional flashes showed me weird shadows through the window pane, my mind drifted off to the idea of ghosts.

They say people who believe in god are most likely to believe in ghosts as well. Well, why not? You've never seen god, you've no proof of it except for age old epics and could-be-coincidences in today's world. The same goes for ghosts, except that there are plenty who claim to have sighted them. Video clips and experiences reveal that there seem to be more chances of the existence of ghosts than of god. But then of course, we've been told that god exists within us, in our surroundings, in the universe, as light, as wind, as energy. The things that we couldn't understand ourselves, were christened god's creation. Who then, is this almighty, the so-called creator of life? Why not call nature itself as god, why not the forces in the universe that make our earth go round, that keep the stars in motion, that makes time exist?

For the rationalists and atheists, the very idea of god is a joke. They do not pray, because it makes no sense to them. There are many instances in life that prove to be unfair, many unjustified, which makes it more difficult to believe that god will heed our miseries. Isn't it easier to believe that god sustains life, rather than to save the lives of the petty and the rich alike? How else would it make sense?
When we can pray for the good of others, we could do the contrary as well right? Will both the sides be heard, or are the prayers selective up there? Today the freedom of speech contradicts with the people's right to beliefs. The ones who choose to express themselves despite being in the opposite side of the tide are attacked and treated with disgust. The battle in itself proves the littleness of our maturity.

 In a time where buildings get taller, roads wider, and screens bigger, if our minds too don't expand, then there shall definitely be no peace. Accept and respect, that is all peace ever needs. Accept that people are different, accept that they have different views. Respect their views and beliefs, respect them for sticking to it. By doing so, the gain is all yours, not anybody else's.

Maybe god exists. Maybe ghosts do too. Maybe neither do. Maybe all that we see is governed by a supreme power unknown to us. Maybe physics hasn't yet learned to define it. Maybe it has no definition at all. Maybe we could just stick to our own beliefs, and respect that.

My trail of thoughts got interrupted by a rush of cool wind. The ceiling fan was moving again, the current was back. Sleep had slowly crept in without my knowledge. Slowly, the patter of the raindrops, the beats of the thunder, and the soft howls of the wind served as a lullaby...and I dozed off.

Monday, 11 May 2015

Those freaking lizards!

You know what the latest concern of the day is? Mannerless lizards! That's right, I'm talking about those creepy-crawlies found on the walls of every house. They used to be so decent and quiet earlier! Hiding themselves the moment the lights are turned on, disappearing whenever a human presence was sensed, staying put in a dark, unnoticed place. Unfortunately, they did not pass on their legacy to their descendants. The baby lizards of today are nothing short of utter annoyance! They stay in plain sight, don't hesitate to get on top of anything, and have absolutely no intention of staying unseen! Sometimes I feel pity for them, for being treated so harshly by their residents. It's not their fault after all. The lizards probably weren't taught the manners the way they should have been!

At first I assumed that their nuisance was only short lived. But then, my school session ending exam came up, and as I looked up to take a break from my routine studies, what do I behold?! A dark brown baby lizard camouflaged in the wooden table, standing still behind our hand-made pen-stand. Ugh! He was definitely not where he was supposed to be!

That little thing successfully distracted me as I spent the next ten minutes watching it move around slowly. Once I realized that it wasn't going to leave my study any time soon, I resumed my lessons. But the reptile was screaming for my attention! Soon enough it ousted me from my very own study and I had to study from my bed. How much ruder could it have gotten?! One would've thought it would leave by the next day. But no it hadn't! The next day I found it staring at a sticker of red berries stuck on my study wall. It was probably wondering if they were edible. But what difference did it make to me? I occupied my bed instead of my table for the second day. The lizard must've loved my study, for it was still out there the third day. Shaking the table, poking his vicinity, staring hard...none of it even made it budge. In fact, it even stared right back at me.

FYI, the lizard's gone by now. But only to take up other non-lizard-friendly places like dad's office table, my piano, the towel holder in the bathroom, and believe it or dared to even enter my bed! Not once, but twice! Now you must admit that it was completely unkind of it to do that! If only it stood behind the curtains decently, my mood would've been much better for a couple of days.  One of them did heed my wish, and stayed behind the curtain. But did I know then that it's intention was quite the contrary to staying hidden? I had gone to close the bedroom window and whoa! That mischievous little thing fell right onto my hand. This was too much! Too bad I did not scream, I bet that clumsy creeper wanted me to.

The lizards and I would have be in a better understanding of each other if they had kept a respectable distance. But they seem to be determined to interfere into my stuff, ahh...and thus the indifference shall continue!

Wednesday, 6 May 2015

Dubiousness here to stay

We're nearing the close, the close of the chapter concerning school life. The mixture of emotions would be that of excitement, nervousness and responsibility alike. But most of all, there's the dubiousness. There's one more year to make a choice, this way or that? Or perhaps a so-far-unspoken third path? Which way do I go? As much as there is the urge to get out into the world and make an impact, there's as much doubt if that's what's meant to be. Small disappointments are getting piled up, and before it forms a barrier to the way ahead, I wish to start the journey, and just leave the pile behind. It's the last year in school, and the first day's done. The teachers are doing their job to scare the hell out of us. And our job is to convince them that we're trying, be it true or otherwise.

I keep thinking I'm ready to step out. But then all I need to do is to have a talk with daddy to pull myself way down for I realize that I know close to nothing. Here I sit, wondering if I'll ever figure a way out of this mess. Now that the time's pretty close, I've started considering the option that I was determined to omit.

I still don't have confidence in myself. I haven't even the basic ability to take a decision of my own choice, why you may ask...I'm probably just afraid of choosing wrong. I'm told not to worry about it at all, that what has to come will come. But I can't dodge the questions from around, I can't ignore their warnings of not having a plan, I can't neglect my intuition of starting immediately, I can't just not worry. Worry gets us nowhere, it's true as long as all you do is worry. But if your worry prompts you to act, then my boy, get going!

I'm 17, and I've had a life worth living so far. I wouldn't say I am extremely experienced, but I do have a memorable teenage life, one that's made me what I am today. I doubt a lot more, I empathize every person, and keep believing that everyone would have a reason behind their every act, though I may not always understand them.

My target is a year from now. Will I make a decision by then? Will I shove away my small  wishes, and move along with the tide chasing prestige and money? No matter what the wise say, one cannot deny that we do need money to reach anywhere, unless you are lucky enough to fall in the hands of an angel on earth who'd help you rise. If I still decide to take the path less traveled, how practical would it be? Only as long as I am ready to deal with the consequences, I can move on. Do I have the guts to do that? How much would I know? Wouldn't it be being silly to not heed the advice of the elderly who've lived longer and know better? Like they say, we ought to learn from the mistake of others, for we won't live long enough to make them all ourselves.
We'll see. As I always say, what's meant to be, will be.

Thursday, 30 April 2015

The Lasting Battle

They cheat, they lie.
They hurt, they kill.
We beg, we cry.
They cease not still.
No happy, no smile;
Them all, they seize.
The evils pile;
And yet, don't cease.
But nor do good
And nor do love,
With humanhood,
They ally dove.
They combat hate.
To rebel, they dare,
Choosing their fate;
To fight, hands bare. 
In them, there lives
A mighty power,
A power that kills
The evil hour.
The power of love,
The power of hope,
That stands above
All doubt and grope.
The power to care,
The power to cry.
A heart to share,
The courage to die.
They live to serve,
To save their kins.
They've got the nerve
To sweep all sins.
In them, there's heart
For every soul.
In them, there's hearth
For the world in whole.
Their hope paves way
To a life anew;
The ills don't stay,
Not even a few.
There's happy, there's smile,
And beauty, no bounds!
No trace of evil pile
No cry of sorrow sounds.

Tuesday, 28 April 2015


 Yesterday I made up my mind to wake up everyday at 6 am and study. And today I laugh at the very idea of it. It's not like the idea is far-fetched for I did get up, only to fall asleep on my table an hour later. How many times do we take such decisions with great determination after all? The excitement is often momentary. I'm sure there are plenty who can relate to being lazy bums like this, but mind you...there sure are people out there who do put their ideas into action!

When we're busy doing a lot of things we want free time. When we get free time we get bored. You could have a look at the status updates of a big portion of school students. On the first day of vacations they go "Yaay! Vacationz! " and 5 days later they're like, "Damn bored with the holidays." What's the most they do about it? Log on to all the social networking sites they're in, surf through the posts, maybe post a comment here and there, chat about completely unimportant things until they're bored enough to log out. Then they're bored again and log in.
          Since the time internet has joined in our 'daily essentials' list, we've lost hold of something called 'hobby'. I myself used to read a lot, but not anymore. I keep thinking I don't have time, but I too have fallen victim like the millions of others, who can't make do without a little bit of time-waste before the screen. But of course, internet is not only about social media and youtube videos. We all must have read and written essays in school about the pros and cons of internet enough times to get bored with that too.

 I wonder as I write, if blogging is of any use at all. Who would read these but my near and dear ones who know that I've made a page to pile up all the rubbish I write. Maybe I could call it a hobby. At a time when people are way too busy to read something irrelevant if it extends more than a paragraph, I here, am writing them. Photographs and quotes, short messages and jokes, they're the modern trend. Who would care for long stretches of a nobody's thoughts?

 There is so much going on in each one of our minds every moment! Except when you're in the middle of a meditation, your mind is probably constantly engaged with random thoughts. If you scrutinize your very thoughts, you'll figure out hidden wonders, however small that might be. I once made a small booklet called the 'Constitution of Dash', scripting my own laws related to school. A friend of mine told me that it was nothing but rubbish. Of course it was! But that is what made it enjoyable! I sometimes write philosophies, sometimes imaginary incidents, sometimes nonsense...and sometimes something that I cannot categorize anywhere. But each time, it is only after I put my thoughts into words that I notice that I had such things in mind. What maybe meaningless to the rest of the world, is a 'wow' factor to me, for these thoughts are mine and only mine.

 My mind never ceases to wander. In fact none of ours' do. Each writing brings me closer to myself, as if uncovering another small piece of what's within me. This very fact keeps me going, and if writing itself can help me wander, wander and enjoy, wander and go wow, then what better way could there be to spend time when bored! Well then, Kudos to writing! Goodbye boredom!

Monday, 27 April 2015

Saturation Point

No matter how hard you try, how determined you are, there is always a saturation point when it comes to exam preps. Its funny how brilliant ideas creep into your mind right when you need your whole attention for studies. And then you make up your mind to work on your brilliant plan once the exams get over with. But when it really does get over, you are too much in a mood for celebration that you suffer from the age old ailment of procrastination. The celebration unexpectedly gets prolonged until you are assigned with another big project that puts you back on a busy schedule. And so, the ideas diminish there. Why is it that there is no saturation point for fun? We forever crave to have light moments, to fall back and laugh our hearts out. We prefer to have the hash-tag 'keep it simple silly!' rather than indulging in complicated affairs of this unpredictable chaotic life.

Realization dawns at the most unexpected instances, the vision seems all hazy and perplexing. Can talents slow down, or is it that their growth is stunted. Can it make you take steps backward? Or could it be a recoil for a giant leap? The more you think you understand your crazy self, the farther you are from reality. Hypocrites, that we all are. This saturation point that we're talking about, is one that increases with every passing experience, for it is only apt to measure our wisdom through experience rather than age. For now, endurance is must, and we must strive to get hold of it.