Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I don’t feel like talking to people anymore. Or rather I run out of topics. Maybe people also don’t find much to talk with me.
I’ve become boring.
I’ve become unidimensional, unidirectional. I don’t believe one should do what everyone else is doing without thinking. I am not doing it either. But I’m running out of options for alternatives and my independent thoughts.
I have my focus, yet I am losing focus. And strangely it’s the lack of an objective where to focus on.
I am not being able to follow my head or my heart. I’m hanging somewhere in between.
I know what I can do. I know I don’t even have an inkling what all I can achieve. Yet, I’m strangely shunning it. I’m shunning myself from the world.
I have torn myself into a façade, yet sometimes I let my ‘self’ be looked through the looking glass by others.
I’m not in a negative mood. Trust me when I say that. I’m positive.
I’m too engrossed in thinking all I can’t do at times that I forget I can also do something.
It’s not an adolescent rant. I’m past it. It’s more of an adult child speaking where he’s suddenly lost himself, where he suddenly finds confusion and then sees the light. I’ve tried abeyance, it doesn’t help.
I know who I am. Few people do. My fault is I don’t know when to come out of the shell.
My life has been a journey of extremes. I’ve tried moderation. It doesn’t suit me.
Someone had said when I set out to do something, I do it with so much passion and fervour that I leave others far behind and fail to bring the rest to the same platform, and so the real objective fails. Yes, maybe you were right.
I’m not a loner. Yet I feel lonely most of the times now. And sometimes solitude is bliss.
I got dreams of my own which I share with none. I’d love to fulfil them. But then they require lots of heart. I haven’t been up to doing by the call of the heart in recent times.
I feel I’m a letdown at times, both to myself and others.
I used to be a joker at times. Even now I am one, albeit in a different way. I’d love to be one for life.
And yet I feel I’m lost …
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
“I’m not the one?”
“No, you’re not. “
“I left nothing to chance.”
“ ’course you didn’t.”
“Then why not me?”
“Why would it be you?”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Did I fail?”
“Then I did succeed, didn’t I?”
“Look at me.”
“I have leukemia.”
Monday, November 09, 2009
Exams have an unique way of stirring your writing buds. I have been writing, thought I haven't been posting. I have been off the blogger circuit for quite a while now. Time is at a premium. Never thought I’d be led into attending so many classes in a single semester! And suddenly exams come staring. Somethings have changed within me. It’s not too recent. Been since the dehra trip and IIP experience. I finally believe I’ve got it in me to last the grind. I won’t be crushed.
I’ll be back soon. Till then Matchbox20 and Dolores O’Riordan rule the roost.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
A bit of college
A bit of south city
A bit of beer
A bit of rain
A bit of pandal hopping
A bit of sumptuous food
A bit of tram
A bit of waiting eagerly for a cab
A bit of whiskey
A lot of fags
A lot of adda
A lot of Maddox
A lot of old friends
A lot of reunion
A lot of adda again
A lot of crowd
A bit of metro
A bit of a slightly embarrassed me being wished happy birthday in the underground
A lot of jostling
A lot of walking
A lot of masti
A day well spent
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Too good to be true
Yet, heart wrenching
Everything when you can’t think of the gain
More of a melodrama
Faked by many
Yet, more real than reality.
Driving a Porsche on the highway
Steering an yacht on the waves
A box of chocolates
Beef steak with chilled beer
Whiskey with tandoori kebabs
Sleeping on the terrace on a starlit night
Watching the faraway twinkling lights of a hill-station
Chatting your heart out
Fagging till eternity
Walking on the railing holding the other's hand
A cup of Darjeeling tea
Walking hand in hand
Sleeping in each other’s arms
Smiling when you’re supposed to apologize
Laughing when you’re asked to cry
Quarreling when you’re about to appease
Wearing that shirt everyday
Spraying that perfume
Being her rockstar
Being his Dutch dame
Something that you can’t crack
Her picture on your desktop
His mail starred in g-mail
Returning to roots
Giving in to insane demands
Being a loser for the world,
Being a winner for the One
The unfeeling kiss
The devil smirking within you
Tragic shadows of spring
That perched photograph
That souvenir of immoral love
Faithfully due to yourself
The tranquil ambiance of the rainbow
Sacrifice of your dreams
Yielding while you’re strongest
Standing up at your weakest
Floating on heaven while it’s still there
Loving while it’s not …
Friday, August 07, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
It’s weird sometimes when you feel you have so much to do, and yet you do nothing, you just seem to have an inclination to go back in time. Not relive, but just looking back at who I was and how I was and how everything was. It’s probably the best form of educating you about yourself. The way you’ve grown to be somebody who you are now.
Today as I stand on the threshold of yet another big step towards my graduation, I realize there are so many things I could have done different, not necessarily better. The admission test where I had to write “Twinkle Twinkle little star” and a teacher helped me then. The elation when I was first appointed monitor in the first standard and then daily lock and key games subsequently. The absolute fun masti innocent home to school and back van journeys. Admission in a new school mid-term in the third standard and getting slowly used to Kolkata life. I remember the fun filled fights of fourth and fifth standard. Early exposure to words of love and sex in sixth and seventh standards used to make us friends so hush hush and keen alerted minds. Eighth and ninth standards were spent on getting exposed to national quizzing scenarios and first crushes and basically, ‘Growing Up’. Tenth standard was more of a fun filled journey. Barring the last day, one which is forever etched in memory, when so many friends were scattered from the everyday meet forever. Tears and hugs were never lacking. Eleventh standard was when I had the then biggest fall in my life. Betrayal from a best friend to losing friends to being basically lonely and realizing this whole thing the real hard way, indeed broke and wore me down. The silver lining was I had some new friends who really have stood by me ever since. Twelfth was when I once again stood up, trying to relive the last days in school. Some friends came back realizing their folly, all in all it was a embalming of sorts. The last day of school was essentially different from the one two years back. Before it even hit that there would be no waking up at 6.30 in the morning and running to catch the bus at 7.15 and rushing to manage the traffic as a badge holder and then managing the students as captain during the prayer and then attending classes, it was over. The last day during the investiture ceremony when I broke down on stage and the photo sessions to filling juniors’ slam books to getting 7 mindboggling proposals and then all of us classmates crying together with doors closed to finally dancing and singing it out that there would be no final farewells and hugs and kisses galore. And then not faring well in the boards and entrances to taking the real tough decision to reappear for entrances a second time against everyone’s wishes and then spending a fun filled year at Asutosh, making so many friends. That was when I realized I was and could be a really good person. And then getting into my first and only relationship till date, which was blissfully beautiful. And then getting admitted to JU. Alas good things don’t last! Everything going haywire. Losing the plot and break up taking its toll on me. Probably the lowest ebb in my life. A point of time when I really contemplated and attempted suicide and failed. Nothing went right. The only thing I had left was the faith on me. Nothing else existed. Except for a few friends who made it a point to bring me back.
Today, I’ll say I am much better. It could have been worse, maybe it could’ve better too. But with age comes a certain wisdom of knowing that experiences make and mould you into a better person. I have seen low points, lower than some, and better than some. But I’ve never regretted any bit of this. I have my detractors. I have my critics. My aim is not to silence them. ‘coz I also know I don’t need to do that and prove them wrong. I know myself best. And when the need arises, as and when, I’ll prove to myself. No one else. I have never withered in the face of a challenge. And I never will. Success does not always come to the one with the most victories. Happiness does not always come to the most successful. And it’s all in the mind. If you believe, anything is possible. When you’ve scraped the bottom of the ocean bed and come back to the top battered but alive you know you can. I can.
Friday, June 26, 2009
The lights were off. It was quiet around, as usually it was during that time of the night. The fan, with its old regulator in place, growled on. A mosquito net, sometimes flowing in the ensuing blow, more of filtered the cool air. He was sweating profusely. His eyes were red. Only the night prowler could have distinguished. The FM was playing on his headphones. It felt like torrential party rallies on loud-speakers. They disturbed the setting. He lay still. One by one, hot drops wetted the pillow. Moment by moment, he grew further detached from himself. Instant by instant, he grew calmer.
Maybe, now, he’d have cooled down. He wiped his cheek and then his eyes. He touched his pillow, realizing his weakness. He should have held himself. He thought again, logically and practically. Yes, that was the term she had used, when all the time, it was him who had tried to make her think that way. He realizes every dog has its day. Strengths have an amazing ability to become a weakness at a critical point. He was the epitome of calm, the idea of ubercool for everybody. He had now failed them. He had failed himself.
Dragging himself he washed himself in the washroom. Puffy eyes couldn’t be transformed in a jiffy. He turned off the lights. It was fruitfully dark again. He felt a sigh of relief. He was away from prying eyes. Dutifully, he scratched around before he found his moneybag stacked away in the drawer. Without a hesitation, he took out the parched paper covering something inside.
There was a slicing sound. Maybe a slicing screech would have described it more aptly. Suddenly he felt calm. His wrists felt cool. It was pleasant to find viscous flow struggling through, just like him. Struggle was written in his blood. Steadily he closed his eyes. He hoped once, someone would come and bring him back from that terrible nightmare. He again hoped, this time, that he was never disturbed. And all along he fell into a soothing sleep, lips curled into a penchant smile.