Monday, August 31, 2009

The morning innocent smile of hers....

She rubs her eyes and picks the phone with pleasing yawn,
The blabber from the night resumes to go on and awn,
She was soothing than the morning, he realised,
For all his craving, will he be blessed?

The morning innocent smile of hers....

Time pass by so smoothly with her by his side,
When he talks with her, he knows his fortitude,
He dreams to know everything he could be,
But without her he doesnt dare to see it wide!

The morning innocent smile of hers....

Theres a lot many things he would want to share,
Can she hear the words he compares?
He let everything sink, I know for sure,
The day is ethreal for her morning smile pure?

The morning innocent smile of hers....

She wakes up with breeze by her hair curls,
He feels the breath of belonging in the air furls,
Clutch onto him, he wants to see it through
For he sees you in and out all through :)

The morning innocent smile of hers....


P.S. Posting after a very long time :) Guess I am pardoned for the sin :D This one is inspired from the daily antics of someone :) The breath, the smile and the synchrony follows and revolves all in all behind that morning smile of hers!!!

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Eat up!

There is something about food you never grow tired of. Even the dreams of mouth watering food comes with innate ease as if it were programmed to portray a powerless picture yielding to an irresitible force. As much as I am taught of speaking up at right occasions(speak up), I wonder eating up at right occasions might rekindle the spark to do everything else. My previous ramblings on food went about differentiating my moods based on my food. But does the litmus test lie in enjoying the meal silently or overtly proclaiming the praises?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The other day I found myself buckled up to find my frame fit into a filled rickety auto in tryst of food! The hotel we opted for was closed till September 1, but as the usual virus we decided to eat up another hotel :) Such was the intensity of yearning! So thither we flocked into the same auto to find another place to dig into. But it did start with a flash, Babu- being the radio without the stop/start button- commented on the Chicken Rolls irrevocably. He manages that tone by default case(Born to talk, made to code and laughed at :P) His expression excaliming "Saste Log" calls for its own visual imagination(if you haven't seen it). The roll was good before Babu reinstated the comparisions about i-dont-think-i-heard-the-place places. To top it he was having the better of the driver in the front seat, while we four tried fitting in our legs, hands and all that came in between in the back seat :(

Chinese it was! The place was chosen to be a chinese restaurant. Though Babu commented over the ambience of many places before getting down at Tao, he must have fallen in love with the structure and ambience of Tao. His interest and talk point by now had diverted to Chinese culture and the usage of Chopsticks. The related stories engulfed his depression and angst of not being able to use chopsticks. As if we were under the impression that he was fed Cerelac from Chopsticks. But as usual he was put down :)

The order placed, the talk of Babu's town centred around the receptionist. The Chinki next door for Babu! I dont recollect if he had specified about seeing some better looking Chinkis. I am sure I must have overlooked, overheard rather(You know where I was looking :) )! Babu with his words makes the Mark Twain of modern day with a twist. He makes everything silly,poshed up. The twist comes in where he makes silly of himself in all his endeavours.

(Assignment: All of you who are intoxicated by Babu's antics and want to take a sneak peek, just negate the posted picture using photoshop. You have to do it to believe it. So get the hands on experience :P)(Damn.. The blogspot wouldnt even allow to upload a negated Babu's picture! Conclusion: A still picture(without the action wala Babu) is impossible! Bhagwaan ne bhi nahi dekha hoga!)

The Babu antics will only be published on demand!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All this while food and its smell lingered in me. I could differentiate the smell of fried rice, the chopsueys, and the chowmeins which were being gobbled by in some corner of the room. I had an inkling that the food had to be good, its smell was already envigorating. The past few days had been taxing both physically and mentally. I had came to a point of being blinded by everything else. The feeling of loosing everything wasn't fading away. It lingered like a termite's mark long after I had defeated it. All I hoped was a symbolic victory from the its clutches. Good food came to rescue, as if always does! All in all the eat-up excercise made me come back to me. I wonder what would I do without good food? I remember this with sense of fulfilment four days after the incident- such is its impact!

Friday, June 26, 2009

State Of Existence!

Interviewer: How are you feeling right now?
Me: Ever heard of the story of a bird in a golden cage? I think it pretty much sums it up precisely.

Interviewer: A Golden Cage?
Me: On after thoughts I gather, theres nothing golden about it. Its a mirage in the offing.

Interviewer: We are still at sand dunes, confused as ever!
Me: I believe my frustration, desperation speaks for itself.

Interviewer: Ah, you lamenting about the new place? The new novel existence?
Me: Lamenting? Please replace it with condemning. Anything new coming at the price of time isnt sufficient, I believe.

Interviewer: So what is golden about it? Or rather the Mirage?
Me: A swimming pool, Wooden badminton courts, Single room, Girls, add to it AC and TV at room!

Interviewer: That sounds so exciting and interesting!
Me: I said, I cant help feeling like I was bought down by these apparent visuals!

Interviewer: Is it all shiny and painful?
Me: Having the coffee looking up to stars from seventh floor at 12 in the night is perhaps the only silver lining.

Interviewer: Wow, that sounds so exciting.
Me: But excitement dies down with every starless night. I am reminded of the missed moments. The no-network, the complete blocked in feeling is growing on me.

Interviewer:At least the food would be good?
Me: Yeah right! To start with every food court closes by 10 pm. Then I have zeroes down to a 3 dishes out of 5 food courts! You all have imagination to visualize the obviousness of reality.

Interviwer: We fervewntly hope, rather assume you maintained the sports :)
Me: Hmmm... If waiting in queue to get a single game of badminton is what you refer to "high-standards" of sports I have acheived. Football is played with hands. I cease to be the person commenting on active sports from now on.

Interviewer: So its must be getting onto you?
Me: Why think and die thrice before sleeping, when you have to wake up tomorrow to repeat it all over again?

Interviewer: Any news to all of us?
Me: Please do not let the network fall on its own. I yearn for all of you- the mails, the chats, the everything. All I have now is no mail access and lot of desperation! Period. Do drop in mails :) Everyday.. ahhh... Someday.. Atleast One day! I might only reach you at prabhu_das@daiict.ac.in

P.S. Consider this as the heights of desperation and frustration :) Yeah, learning about ethical ettiquettes is perfectly the most perfect thing to hear everyday! Day in day out!
And I have to go out of the way to post posts in blogspot. The only relief is I can acess blogspot. But why not the blogger?

Sunday, May 24, 2009

The Died Him

The recollection of reactions, which culminated in boarding the running train, brought a wry smile. He was left behind at the platform long after the train was gone, even if only in spirits. At least he wanted to be. He adjusted his lens and cleared his vision. He peered through the window as another train passed his thoughts in a flash. The images moved backwards, as he saw, with the pace only matched by the speed of conflicting thoughts in his brain. He was stationary and everything else moved back. Everything else! The train moved on. He moved on. Life moved on? All that was left was a series of moving images. All so beautiful and filled with fragrance and none he could touch, none he could reach out for. None would freeze! They kept moving, and he kept alone. It was an amazing coincidence. At least, he tried to wriggle himself free from this wrong revelation. He wanted to hold it all so tight to himself. But it was not to be. It had to move on.

But then many of his self defined parameters had failed to quantify happiness the true meaning of bliss. His playlist didn’t give him the lift. Music also failed the litmus test. But then he realized the transition hasn’t been all that sudden. He hadn’t laced his football cleats for days. He hadn’t blogged for ages. He hadn’t found movies to suit his taste. The journey was inevitably coming to the climax. He wasn’t prepared for it. It was not sudden. The part of dying him died gradually. Maybe, it will rise from the ashes; the phoenix might infuse and re-find itself.

Even if he re-gathers the situation, fighting with the circumstances, he is sure not to find the same passion. It would be a new team, a new world. Maybe, just maybe he is jumping to conclusions all too soon? Like a divine intrusion, he came out of this thoughts-land. The wheels were screeching to a halt. The siren paraded the senses of hearing. The images were no longer moving backward with the same agonizing speed. He believed they weren’t far from his reach, this time. Lo and Behold! He could reach out to the images, and feel the strong reality of it. The train stopped! The life stopped! Just another parking in life? He would move back to the destination. He moved his hair back. He adjusted his spectacles, cleaning the dirt that had been blocking the vision. A deep breath and the life in his hands brought the gleam in his eyes back! He leapt in joy of life!

Thursday, May 14, 2009

The walk to remember!

He proposed for a walk, she agreed. They had been "whiney-friends" who engage in leg pulling as and when circumstance presented itself. The kind of fresh effervescence to it-bubbly and nascent freshness!Perhaps he was filled with nostalgia, perhaps they were not to meet ever again! He swarmed in mushy thoughts.She was the perfect silhouette of composure. Maybe it would be like she said- "Friendships masks and bends time"! The hug made him feel guilty for they could have been more friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ants of the same anthill! The story shall be etched forever in a distant chapter. It all started the fateful day when most of them were forced to dance to the tune of a birthday. It was the beginning. Like every great story, it had a middle
and an end-the middle was fascinating. The line of ants flocking together in a single filed line to the outings. They were not alike not in any sense of word!They varied in sizes to moods and to tastes! But they struck to the filed line. The ant hill was the happening place at nights with its sessions of glorious uncertainties capable of infinite monotones collectively. It was almost ironic that the magic lingered for so long!


Now they part. Different lines, different choices! It wouldn't be the same long line any more! No more waits, no more group sms! The hugs were different this time. He knew everything couldn't be set down correctly with this hug. The gamut of emotions the imagery of togetherness flashed in an instant! The misunderstandings seemed so trivial in front of the bonding and attachment, he felt like letting go of everything else! It had to be. Everyone made him believe so. Not everyone can be wrong- It had to be!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



He stares at the collage of pictures and he realizes what a "happy place" in reality would be-the place and the people he would like to be with. He blinked his eyes to the happy place where he was surrounded by people he wished to be. It was a happy zone. It is a happy zone. He bids his time and awaits his time, when he parts away from the ant hill. The abode where living alone was both sinful, sundry and difficult!The hug of life? A walk....err.. The walk to remember?

Sunday, March 29, 2009

"THE" defeat in "A" win- A 55F

White washed ceiling or a colorful life canvas? He stared at the various hues of painted life. Knitting the final act together- positivity of hopes? Ballerina’s shift as ball kissed legs, pirouettes and tackles-Game vision delivered.



The loss in a win? The farewell (last) football match of my team!

Play together at Convocation again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A literary work will be considered 55 Fiction if it has:

* Fifty-five words or less (A non-negotiable rule)
* A setting,
* One or more characters,
* Some conflict, and
* A resolution. (Not limited to moral of the story)

Friday, March 13, 2009

Rabbit Hole...Deep and Under!

Welcome to the Rabbit Hole of expectations! Hidden recess, unknown turns, unseen grounds- Doesn’t the Rabbit Hole just go deep in? The tunnel of expectations is almost similar- dicey, inspirational and tiring. Just tumble down!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He tumbled down the tunnel- deep and deeper! The vision, the light guiding him! He persisted. He took up the challenge of living up to expectations. He made his way through the hidden recess of the tunnel- gauging the ground, smelling the dangers. He inched his way through. He slogged. He made seconds converge to minutes and minutes to hours and hours to days! Though the light was far off, he succeeded in securing a milestone. Or at least he flattered himself to believe so. That’s the only solace he bargained, however short-lived it might have been. It was heart breaking-all the sweat didn’t make for a drink, let alone a satisfying/quenching drink. What does he do now? Despair-However lame the word may sound, it has a leveling effect! Or should he vent out his anger in fists? In any case he is devastated by the end of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He is happy. He is engaged in the things he likes most. A smile lingers on his face and he dances to the tune of it. He has unfinished work to wrap up but he is too engulfed in his world to even think of it. He completes the work without interest. He made the things stick and signed it off in its own unique style. He bargains adulation for the vision and expertise. He is left wondering about the virtue of hard work. He is happy in his world even to understand the importance and value of the recognition. He strives out nonchalantly!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Is it really impossible to expect a favourable outcome? Or is it that the Rabbit Hole goes deep down under- beyond understanding? Or is he just digging at the wrong end of the Rabbit hole?