Thursday, October 22, 2009


I used to be a kid when I was a kid. But whatever I wrote then, though I am not really fond of them, I like to read them and laugh aloud.Whatever is bold is what I wrote while posting this . The first doodle, is the first time I wrote something that is not completely about me. Should be three years back. Forgive the kid for her SMS language.

i was traveling by bus n ... tats something i enjoy above everything else....bus travel offers me un-interrupted chain of thoughts... n as it is i don think i admire the scenery n i suppose one can imagine what I would be doing ....n the scenes were uninteresting, gloomy as usual, n then i saw lights, not vey tiny, but then of sizes tat could b delineated from a distance of 200meteres.. well i enjoyed the lights for an instant.....coz they matched the hues of the sunset. I could have slapped myself for my foolishness... it didn't occur any earlier to me tat if they should b lights, of Wat intensity or of wat voltage they should b to b differentiated in the early phase of sunset!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...well... i was foolish for a few moments..lost in my own thoughts then... well now back to lights...they weren't lights after all....just plastic bags held by the thorns of weeds in the barren land..not many.. but a considerable number..tat doesn't deserve such a long explanation.......nevertheless...well i noticed the number of bags from then on... n wen i saw fenced was as though the land was fenced to offer derisory protection from the bags....coz they were clinging to every structure tat offered 'clinging'.....this scene..its not pathetic....its more than shows how deliberately inconsiderate ppl inst a perfunctory act.........being self centered is good....but exploiting others for your own good is severely culpable... n this doesn't apply to plastic bags applies to everything left like plastic bags.. deliberately n inconsiderately.... b it emotions or worries or old books.....or anything u can think this instant tat is usually left so.....there is so much of awareness bout the misuse of the damned bags.....much more than one can think of...but wats the use?..everybody uses his/her awareness to evade a danger to him alone.. n doesn't stop with tat...ties the danger to somebody's head ....lets ditch this word called awareness...there is hell lot of awareness bout everything be it STD or plastic wat do we lack???...knowledge??? sense???.....if each one of us were asked to water to put off a massive fire n then given a pen to write bout the experience...more than half of us will write a book on "how to put of fire (effectively-some may add tat tag too)"..even if half of the half who write the book actually fail to succeed in the we don lack knowledge or makes sense to think tat the half which is not capable of writing the book , is responsible for the havoc....but tats not so....coz disposing plastic bags is not as hard a job as putting off fire(massive actually) then y r ppl so boorish???? even if they hav sense????????? we don ...sorry..they don hav a purpose...wen one has a purpose u ll respect others' purpose....u ll know your responsibilities towards the nation..public health....towards neighbors(irrespective of whether they r in good terms or not)...towards loved ones... n above all towards's really good

Ah, I cribbed to the best of my abilities and said "life's good".
There was a poetry competition in my college and I was given a few pictures. I had to choose one of them to write a poem on. Amongst the many was a Pulitzer winning photograph which showed a soldier kneeling down, his hands tied at the back, and hundreds of bullets approaching him. I am not good at poem writing. What I wrote was essentially prose in an attempted apparent 'poem' format. Nevertheless, I lost myself when I started writing it. That was just when I had understood the nihilist in me. That shows in what I wrote.


I am the absurdly normal,
component of mankind,
that has been chosen to live
for a span of nearly a century.
I grew tremendously bored!
bored of the life that I had to live.
As a sensible man I attribute this,
This state of NIHILISM,my throes ,
Not to the society, not to the creator,
Not to anything except myself.
A man like me,
Who has lived all his life thinking,
Endorsing this tormenting nihilism,
Cannot opt to live.
Hence, justified is my decision,
to come here to die painlessly.
Ah! painless death isn't utopia after all.
But now that I am cornered here,
Among these barbarous hounds,
shouldn't I be ecstatic?
All i wanted is to die!!
but what is it now???
My mind sways. am i hallucinating?
I am swaying too,
My nerves, I imagine are red hot.
But my mind is terrifyingly fast.
It is fast , reasoning, visualizing.
I am dumbfounded,
Not from fear, not from grief,
Not from anything one can think of.
This is horrifying, not death,
But this discovery,
I desperately hope that these bullets,
would spare me miraculously.
though this hoe itself is rapturous,
I am horrified to feel it now.
I can devise plans not to escape,
As I see that its impossible,
but to live every second,
If only I were to live,
Until a few moments ago,
All I hoped to was to die,
Call me an imbecile, call me an idiot,
Or whatever befitting,
But I admit, I live this moment,
This one moment with lust for life...

Are you mocking at that blunder? That painless death thing? I didn't realize that I wrote it. All I could harness then were my swirling head and my circumlocutory brain. My other old blogs will be cumulated under the same header "consolidation".

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