Eagles Don't Flock and Dragons Don't Cry

Who consoles a bruised Eagle? 

How does a Dragon grieve?

 

Endurance

Integrity

Confidence

Coordination

Trust

Ambition

Aspiration

Strength

 

यूँ तो होगा जोश-ए-जूनून कल फिर
पर ज़िन्दगी के इस अचम्भे पथ पर
आज भरोसा आधा है

होगी नयी एक सुबह कल फिर
पर इन कृत्रिम उजालों के बीच छुपा ये
आज अँधेरा ज़्यादा है 

Panthera Tardus

The way you open up
and are free when drunk
The heavy breaths you take
anxiously, but in control
The notoriety in your smile
with a steady stubbornness
That ambitious streak
Strong, almost cruel
The warmth in your eyes
Deceptive, mysterious
I like knowing you, you.

Sometimes I feel you
passing by, your odour
Or imagine you walking
ahead, just turning in time
to give that sleepy eyed smile
Wishing that in time
we share what
means something to us
Not just the usual, stereotypical,
hollow love, but
Raw, carefree, strong and passionate
Just like the first kiss...

Travelers in Time

A moment

Is all it'll need

To breakfree 

From these shackles

To let this river flow

Release the dams

That bind it

Leash it

Control it

A moment 

Of unfiltered 

Wholesome

Expression

Laying it all out

A tiny flicker of 

Lasting certainty

Among the many,

Fading,

In this stream

Of hundreds, millions

Will be the one

That'll matter

One in infinite

Encompassing

Eternity

That moment

Will be ours

You, me

Enough to last 

A lifetime

Before we part

A pathway

To another realm

a space beyond this world

Transcending the boundaries

Away from this hustle, tick tock

Not biding by the clock

A world

That resonates 

With the soul

Spiritual, emotional, intellectual

Beyond our

Read

A fleeting glance

Of truth

Will that be enough

To make that moment

The one?

Ignorance was bliss

Writing after a long time. All the confusion, the emotions, the inadequacy. Never knew loneliness had depths beyond comprehension. Heightened by a yearning that is never to be. Just when I was finding my ground, I realise I want to fly. Cannot now. This hollowness, a void that is hard to describe. And so writing I resort to... once again.

The plucked flower,

Fallen

On the soft brown earth,

Drying, dirty, grounded

But beautiful still

In its own way

Just there 

In its own ignorance

Fragrance fading

Wilting, half bloomed

Sometimes basking

In the sun, 

Smelling the damp earth

Happy to be on the side

Content, ignorant

but wishing sometimes

For nothing in particular

Oblivious to 

The life around

And just when

It thought it had

it all together,

It rained.

It saw how other flowers

Unplucked,

blossomed

Glowing, warm, bright

Full of life

In the drizzle

It saw in amazement

In awe

What could have been

If only it could 

Feel the rain again

The way they could

Not superficial water

Washing dirt away

But fulfilling

From within

Rain, gushing through

The veins and stem

Of its being

It realised

what it could mean

To flourish

To live

To grow

To feel

the droplets, the breeze

The earth

The sun

All would have a different 

Meaning

If only...

Now, it just sits there

On the sides

Slowly wilting

Yearning,

Wondering

Confused 

Wandering

Alone

A realisation,

It never seeked 

Or wanted

But

It knows now.

A realisation of

the true meaning of

Being

Incomplete.

Just a Little Bit of Love

Just a little bit of love
to call it our own
A tiny corner of your heart
that could be mine alone

Just a little bit of care
with sincerity, if you may
to ask if I were fine
and had a good day

Just a little bit of time
post the office stress
to share a genuine laughter
and make the worries less

Just a little bit of madness
privy to the two of us
and the gentle companionship
after a party's fuss

Just a little bit of support
in adversities
Acceptance of imperfections
Sans insecurities

Just a little bit of desire
to live life together
Comforting feeling of warmth
in the coldest weather


Just a little bit of love
not indifference, please
To make the tiny moments

Full of beauty and peace

Keep Calm and Respect Everyone

Obesity and malnourishment are both diseases. Stay fit.
Extremism and indifference are both too! Stay logical.

 

Feminism is not extremism.
I am a feminist. I think in many ways women need empowerment.
I am a feminist. I think in many ways men need empowerment too.
I am a feminist. I refuse to take anyone's offer of seat, unless in dire need.
I am a feminist. I always offer my seat to an old person/ kid or someone in need.
I am a feminist. I love opening doors for men, women, children, everyone.
I am a feminist. I respect non-working men, working men, non-working women, working women, girls, boys, everyone and their choices.
I am a feminist. I think it's perfectly okay for a woman to ask someone out.
I am a feminist. I think it's plain stupid when, at a dinner, men pay for women.
I am a feminist. I don't think women are better than men.
I am a feminist. I don't think men are better than women.
I am a feminist. Separate queues for women baffle me.
I am a feminist. And I believe in the following:

Respect men. Don't worship them, don't demean them. Let them be.
Respect women. Don't worship them, don't demean them. Let them be.
Respect children. Don't worship them, don't demean them. Let them be.
Respect people. Don't worship them, don't demean them. Let them be.

In Search of Peace.

I lie down flat on my double bed, too much comfort, a glass of cool water, the whole room to myself with more than I could ask for. A room full of possibilities. The only thing I have to do is get up and work or learn or just show a little enthusiasm. But here I lie, procrastinating. Every day. Lazing around in luxury.

And there are kids, out there, right now, who are scourging for items in the garbage dumps; deprived of schooling, food and basic things that I have taken for granted all my life. What have I done to deserve what I am reaping? Zilch. What have those kids done to be deprived of their basic necessities? Each child deserves to get access to opportunities, like you and I got.

I vow. I am not going to die without having done at least the tiniest bit to bridge this unfair gap. I am just too directionless to start alone. Is there anyone out there who wishes to take this forward? Anyone with any thoughts on this? Anyone?

Somya, do it.

Swimming against a high tide
No matter what strength you muster
you'll be swept away
Try all you want
there's always more water,
more tides you have to overcome
Mastering the ocean, are we?
Single-handedly?

Underestimating the mighty ocean
and overestimating your tiny self
Not knowing, not realizing
the ocean relents to those
who bear relentlessly, its lashes
again, again, time and again

It can get cruel, the ocean
unforgiving, and unfair
overbearing, the mighty ocean
Your cries, your fights
will hit deaf ears,
for the ocean has no use for
petty cribbings

Many come with puffed-up egos
Get burnt by the harsh waters
Die, defeated, debris
and that's how the shores are made

To reach to the center and
dance in tornadoes
you need to be tough
and keep swimming
one more lap
and another

You had a dream you said?
Then what the hell are you tired of?
Buck the f*k up!

बंदर क्या जाने अदरक का स्वाद (गुप्ताजी)

"नहीं, हम नहीं चखेंगे इसको,
या तो बिलकुल मीठा दीजिये
या एकदम खट्टा"
 गुप्ताजी
अकड़ कर बोले,
"इस पार या उस पार,
ये बीच बाच की चीज़ें
हमें  रास नहीं आतीं "

नए  नए चमकते हुए
ताम्बे के गिलास में परोसी गयी थी
खट्टी मीठी
शिकंजी
अरे गुप्ताजी,
दिल रखने के लिए ही चख लेते …

पर नहीं, अपनी ही अकड़ में
छोटे से नज़रिये से
किताबों में पढ़कर
स्वाद को परखने चले थे ...
नासमझी तो देखिये इनकी
अरे गुप्ताजी,
दिल रखने के लिए ही चख लेते …

कभी कभी  सोचते ज़रूर थे मगर
कि जाने क्या देखते हैं लोग इसमें
आढ़े टेढ़े, ऊपर नीचे
हर तरफ से सोचने के बाद भी
ये स्वाद का चक्कर उनकी समझ से बाहर था
अरे गुप्ताजी
दिल रखने के लिए ही चख लेते …

"ठीक है फिर, मत लीजिये
यहीं रख रहे हैं मेज़ पर
पर अब किसी और को दे देंगे
आप मत लीजिये अब"
तब जाके एहसास हुआ
गुप्ताजी को
कि शायद बेहतर होता जो
दिल रखने के लिए ही चख लेते …

पर अब अकड़ और बढ़ गयी है ना
तो वहीँ बैठे हैं
गुप्ताजी
ताक रहे हैं मेज़ पर
हाथ में अखबार है
पर नज़र उसी ताम्बे के गिलास पर
शिकंजी

चाहते तो हैं
पर हालत कुछ ऐसी है
ना मांगते बनता है
ना मना करते

;)

अरे, सो जाइए गुप्ताजी

गुप्ताजी
फिर आज बरामदे में खड़े हैं
धीमी हवा और मंद मंद जलती लालटेन
याद दिलाती है बीते हुए कल की

कल से आज तक में
कितना कुछ बदल गया है
कितना कुछ सीखकर आये हैं
गुप्ताजी
थोड़ा लड़खड़ाते,
थोड़ा बाग़ में झूलों की मौज की तरह
थोड़ा टूटी चप्पल में
थोड़ा नए बूट की चमक की तरह


आज फिर बरामदे में खड़े हैं गुप्ताजी
आँखों पर मोटा चश्मा चढ़ाकर भी
जाने क्यों सब धुंधला धुंधला सा ही है

आज से आने वाले कल में
कितना कुछ बदल जायेगा
क्या सीखने की उत्सुकता भी उतनी ही होगी
गुप्ताजी
अब लड़खड़ाने से थोड़ा ज़्यादा डरते हैं
झूलों की मौजें तो पुरानी बातें हैं
टूटी चप्पलें भी छोड़ आए पीछे
लेकिन बूट की चमक में अब वो रास नहीं आता


अरे गुप्ताजी,
परायी सी हंसी लिए
कब तक इस कल आज और कल की
बेकार सोच में डूबे रहोगे
रात बहुत हो चुकी है
जाओ सो जाओ
कल सुबह फिर दफ़्तर जाना है

Who? Meh.

This is for me
and only me
so don't you go on reading
Don't need your voice
The sound, that noise
That blather, I'm not heeding

I'll run, I'll fly
I'll laze, I'll die
I'll drink like hell
or kiss and tell
I'll make a chef-d'oeuvre
and lock it away
or write clumsily
in complete disarray

I'm a psycho, I'm weird
perhaps, I'll grow a beard
I'll be a good girl, or may be not
Subsisting on junk
I'll clot, I'll rot
My ways, displays
will get me off your list
Or there isn't a list at all
if you're of those who got the gist.

Dark Flavours

A crappy poem, just to try writing on a crude topic.



Of hotness and
steam
Of exotic flavours and
nicotine

Enchanting aroma,
odor, captivating
The stains of taste
on quivering lips
pleasing to the senses
eyes, tongue, whole

At break of dawn
at dusk and night
All the time
everywhere
In bed,
that small shanty
or the urbane parlor

The craving lingers
for that
sugary mouthful
Texture, smooth, milky
Tinge of ginger

The craving lingers
for the native fragrance,
the earthly feeling
That energizing need

Alas,
in wanton grease
and sinful thirst
I wonder which I ruined more
the usual savor of Tea
or desirous yearning for Him.

गुप्ताजी की बुशर्ट

नयी नयी सी
रंगबिरंगी, कॉलर वाली
कड़क और चमकती हुई
एक बुशर्ट लाये थे हम बाज़ार से
माँ के साथ, नन्हे पावों पर चलकर

घमंड से पहने
बड़ी सी मुस्कान चहरे पर लिए
घूमते थे गली में शान से
और सोचा करते थे
दुनिया बदल देंगे

वो बुशर्ट
कुछ कुछ हमारे
सपनों जैसी थी
तो उसका नाम  हमने
उम्मीद रख दिया

आहा! धुलाई के बाद
अलग ही दिखाई देती थी वह
पुराने कपड़ों के बीच
वो रंगबिरंगी, कड़क

बड़े चाव से पहनते थे उसे
रोज़ एक नए जोश के साथ
दिन ब दिन, साल दर साल
पहनते चले गए

अब नजाने कितने साल हो चुके हैं
बेचारी अब नर्म और पुरानी हो गयी है
छेद हो चले हैं उसमें
पर मुलायम मुलायम सी वो
हमें आज भी उतनी ही प्यारी है

सब कहते हैं, "कबाड़ है, फ़ेंक भी दीजिये"
अरे अब आप ही बताईये,
"भला उम्मीद भी कोई फेंकने की चीज़ होती है?"

The River / The Woman

Tranquil waters,
cutting through stones
The lifeline, the elixir

A continuous, flowing stream

Playful, moody, carefree

Let it run

its own course

and it'll merrily feed

Give you plenty 

to prosper and thrive

The irregular, aroused flusher

intense, vivid, overwhelming

Control it

and it'll lash out

in ways uncharted

Wiping out civilizations

with floods and droughts

It knows its purpose 

and very well at that

Oh, the curvy cleverness

with sparkle in its moves

Flowing in fun, 

connecting, linking, uniting

Surrendering at last

only to the mighty sea.

Passing Thoughts...

~~
Out of her cocoon, slowly she braced the light. 
Anxious for freedom. Shades of leaves and the bright sun. 
Deceived, she now rebuilds those walls. Crushed bricks and mud, red.

यह शहर नहीं यह सर्कस है

देख तमाशा देख तमाशा
देख तमाशा देख

टूटती अभिलाषा देख
फैलती निराशा देख
बढ़ता जुर्म बेतहाशा देख
अनुचित, अशिष्ट नयी भाषा देख

ज़िन्दगी, तू बंद कमरे में
क्यों बेड़ियों में कैद
सपने देखती है

बाहर निकल इस खुली हवा में
इस श(ज़)हर की नयी परिभाषा देख
देख तमाशा देख तमाशा
देख तमाशा देख


 

Flavour

I like summers
But it's not the scorching sun
It's the ice
melting in luke warm water
Those cold dew drops, slipping
The drizzle from the Cooler
Oh, that smell of Roohavzah
Freshly watered plants
and mud in my veranda
It's the winter I make
in these summers that I like

I like winters
But it's not the freezing chills
I yearn for the steaming tea
in lazy cold mornings
The light sun rays touching my hand
The cuddle in the blanket
And warm sweaters
Bonfires and popcorns
It's the summer I make
in these winters that I like

I like my life
But it's not the achievements
or winnings
It's the 7am-walk in the park
My jogger-shoes and suit
The whirring sound my bike makes
when I wake it up everyday
The chit chat with friends,
sharing, caring, laughter, bicker
These daily chores,
each one being a target achieved
It's the liveliness we add in life
that makes it worth living!

Fading Mustard

Of Gulmohars and Laburnams
Of bygone Springs
and coming Autumns
Farewells; falling petals,
on empty roads that stretch far
With arms stretched out,
embracing, waiting
In the melancholic glow
of dust, red and yellow
In the warm air that floats
In the susurration and rustle
That's where I live, eternally...

Essence

Fly.

Cut through the biting winds.

Swim.

Into the unending oceans.

Race.

So fast, your brain goes numb.

Unleash.

That energy. The one that builds

with each day, each hour.

Fight off.

Those shackles. Unnecessary. 

Those painful chains. Their clatter.

You are free.

As free as the wind, the water,

the soul within you.

Scream.

In resonance with yourself.

One; only you.

Love. Truth. Peace.

You are a dreamer.

In the dream, the one you hold dear,

You love yourself.

And that becomes your reality.

Going Senile! Peekaboo! #2

Fare thee well, O' Twenty-Four
So long, and thanks for not being a bore
For instead, you've been much worse
Not square, non-prime; as expected, a curse!

In five days, Twenty Five I'll be
A perfect square: mix of madness & maturity
Age is just a number, you cynicists may say
But alas, Twenty-Five has its way

I'm sensing the year'll be beauty-fuller
And it's going to start with the day of colour
So cheers to hopes, vibrance, a determined vow!
Because I'm going to be "Ag-ed and How"!

#So-old-and-lazy-yet-crazy

ps: Going Senile! Peekaboo! #1

Of dreams And love

This is from my Facebook wall, where status-posts tend to get lost over time, and this one I didn't mean to lose. My idea of love, not just for a partner, but for everybody special to me - my parents, siblings, friends, relatives... 

Every now and then we see people falling in love.
But then we hear them crying over the pain it causes.

True love inspires.
It makes you want to become a better person.
It takes all your insecurities away,
leaves you with the courage to fight anything in your way.
Because no matter what, when they are in love with you
and you with them,
they'll always be there. Beside you. Behind you. Leading you....
Even the thought that they care makes you want to strive.
Even the pain becomes a part of the struggle to rise.

Being in love is exalting, inspiring.
Because you always "Fly in Love", not fall in it.

यादों की धूप

दिल्ली की सर्दी में
घर की छत पर चटाई फैलाकर
धूप  सेकना याद आता है
बस अब बाट देख रहे हैं
गुप्ताजी
उन्ही आलस भरी छुट्टियों की
क्योंकि बहन से लड़ाई
और माँ के हाथ के गाजर हलवे बिना
रहा ही कहाँ जाता है

Whenever She uses the "F" word...

Opened this article thinking I was referring to THE "F" word? :D
Congrats, you've just been cheated, because this one's really about the next most used and abused "F" word: Feminism.

(Haan haan ye article wahi ghise pite topic par hai... par ab aa hi gaye hain yahaan, to kripaya padh hi lijiye...)

Because contrary to popular perception, there’s a difference between being a feminist and a sexist…

~

A neighbor on the street, to her parents:

“Your daughter hit the boy on the head”

“Yes, I have lectured her against it, but she says that the boy teased and hit her first. I hope you called his parents too. I’d like to have a word with them.”

“Oh, I didn’t think that was necessary. After all, he’s just a boy and boys are uncontrollably naughty. Ladke to hote hi aise hain, kya kar saktein hain.”

~

Her Class 12 Biology teacher, to her:

“Get out of the class, you didn’t do your assignment.”
“But why only me? Why are you letting them sit in the class?

“Oh, these boys are already so notorious. But you, being a girl, disappoint me more.”

~

A female professor to the class in her under-grad college:

“Why are you girls cribbing so much over marks? It’s not like they’re going to take you anywhere. And why all the fuss about lack of resources in the lab, haan? You are anyway going to get married and be housewives or teachers as soon as you pass out from here. Just let things be, okay?”

~

The prospective-groom’s parents to her:

“Can you cook?”

“Yes, I can. Can your son?”

“Will you relocate?”

“Yes, I may. Will your son?”

“Are you career-oriented or a family person?”

“I am both, what about your son?”

Feedback on phone later: “We think your daughter is too career-oriented and headstrong. We want a more family girl.”

Every time she tells people she is a feminist, they look at her as if she is out on some “mahila-mukti-morcha”, until she clarifies:

“I'm as much a feminist as I'm a masculinist”

Yes! The "M" word exists. :P

…and if someone stood as a silent witness to even one event similar to the ones mentioned above, then they are the actual sexists.

Through Shut Eyes I Saw

Some beliefs
Some broken dreams
dreams? or just wishful thinking
in desperation?
of escapism
of running away from reality
of shutting eyes to effort
of wishing for things to happen
on their own

a life, its luxuries, taken for granted
served on a platter
with cherry toppings and creamy icings
cribbing still
for nothing in particular
yet over everything

but till when?
never budging
cribbing still
pampered, moods
throwing tantrums
overtly rude
under the guise of sarcasm
hiding beneath all this
masking imperfections
incomplete endings

but till when?
but till when?
when one day
I shut my eyes
in frightened rebellion
as life slapped me hard
the sound reverberated
deep within
the pain of thrust
pierced within

I shut my eyes
and that's when I saw
or rather, was made to face
myself
all that had to be cleaned up
the pile of misery
of a self centered miser
miser in effort
miser in wholeheartedness
miser in character
miser in intention

and still the world has been
generous
way too generous
with this realization
I vow to give back
what I have taken
that hasn't been rightfully mine
Now I yearn to give back
all that I never earned but took

It's not snakes and ladders
life
not shields and daggers
it is a realization
life
a realization
that takes its own time to come
a realization
that's better late than never.

An Irony, that's Life.

~
सोच समझ कर
चले थे इन पर
अब भी फिर क्यों
लगते अजनबी ये रस्ते हैं

क्यों आए कोई
रोने संग हमारे
हम तो अपनी इस
हालत पर खुद भी हँसते हैं


~
जाने ये कब हुआ 
दूसरों कि नज़र से
खुद को परखने लग गए

देखते थे सपने कईं
बेपरवाह नींद में
जाने कब हम
नींद से जग गए



~
संदूक में रख संजोया जिनको 
दिल के वो कुछ अरमान ही तो थे 
जाने क्यूँ ज़िन्दगी उन्हें भी 
भरी सड़क पर, खोल 
तमाशा बना गयी


~
उम्मीदों के साये में 
हम जब फिर लम्हे जीने लगे
ज़िन्दगी ने उन पर भी आकर 
एक नया सवेरा कर दिया


~
यूँ तो होगा जोशे-जूनून कल फिर
पर ज़िन्दगी के इस अचम्भे पथ पर
आज भरोसा आधा है

होगी नयी एक सुबह कल फिर
पर इन कृत्रिम उजालों के बीच छुपा ये
आज अँधेरा ज़्यादा है  

Classroom

The teacher declared, "Never say never"
A voice from the back blurted out, "Practice what you preach"

The stern glare met many a mischievous eyes.
And amid the suppressed giggles and rising rage,
all thought, "Whoever said Nothing is Impossible"

गुप्ता जी, आज खुश हैं

गर्म चाय और कड़क बिस्कुट लिए
बरामदे की ठंडी हवा में खड़े
बंद आँखों से मंद मंद मुस्कुराते
गुप्ता जी
पुरानी यादों के बीच कहीं खोए हुए हैं
छोड़ो कल की बातें
इस दौड़ से ज़रा परे हट कर
वो आज, यहाँ, इस लम्हे के होए हुए हैं

गुप्ता जी, ज़रा सुनो तो

#2

अटैची लेकर घर से दफ्तर तक
पीढ़ी दर पीढ़ी वही Road न लो
नया चुनो कोई रस्ता लेकिन
नहीं मज़ा उस रस्ते में तो
Light लो, पर Load न लो |

नए दौर के Version ३ में
Version १ का Source code न लो
मिल भी गया तो Antique समझ लो
तोड़ मरोड़ के नया बनालो
Black में बेचो, Load न लो |

गुप्ता जी, ज़रा सुनिए

#1

बहुत भाग लिए ज़िन्दगी के पीछे गुप्ता जी,
सुनो अगर जो कान लगा कर, वक़्त कहने लगा है
अब चला जाए तेज़ इतना कि ज़िन्दगी को भगाएं 
या रुक जाएँ, थम जाएँ ऐसे कि ज़िन्दगी खुद ब खुद 
खींच कर ले जाए आगे, अपने साथ।

You know what the best part about today is?

This is the worst I can be now.
I can only get better from here.
And having realized that is the best feeling.
The feeling of peace. With myself.

I can feel the Dragon rising from sleep.
The nightmares it has had are fading away.
Its rising.
Stretching.

And when it exhales after that deep breath in.
A fiery fire flows furiously.

Rising from the Remains

Dormant.
Distracted.
Distraught.
Disordered.
Dismayed.
Disconcerted.
Dubious.
For too long.
Far too long.

The Dragon.
Impassioned again,
is rising.
Determined.

Rising.
Raging.
Restless.
Roaring.
Readying.

Slow and steady.
Rising from the remains.

For the path ahead may be
too demanding,
but the gates are back in sight.

Cold

Its getting too dark in here.
This engulfing hollowness.
The black hole I never knew existed
is growing heavier by the day.
Perhaps a walk in the sun
would do good.
And a free flow of tears.

I walk in the sun.
I find no warmth.
I cry my heart out.
Saltless water, cold.

24 and a Half

Really? A post about being Twenty Four and a Half?
Age is just a number. And whats in a number really?
"Don't add days to your life, add life to your days", silly girl!


Precisely that's what I am talking about here. Looking at the 'unquantifiable', invaluable and humble realizations this half year has unsolicitedly bestowed upon me, today, at '24 and a 1/2' and a day older, it leaves me fondly amused.

Half year ago, I was going senile.
Half year ago I was pushed into being 24.
I disliked the idea of being at 24,
just because I was going senile.
Half year ago,
I found consolation in the fact that like other years,
this "being 24" too shall quickly, peacefully pass.
But this was not to be.

Because, Half year ago
I 'really' started growing up.
I did not see it coming then.
I realize it now looking back.

I forced open the imaginary gates of
shielding, lofty fantasies
to brace the hard hitting,
unyielding blows of reality.

I freaked out. I cried. I cursed.
I got bruised left, right and center.
Personally, professionally,
physically, mentally,
idealistically, philosophically,
really.

Half year later,
I am stronger, full of vigor
and tolerant.
Perplexed yet hopeful.
Stubborn yet pragmatic.
Delirious yet patient.
Chancing yet steady.
Sanely insane
Complexly plain

So here I am,
Looking forward
to being 25, 26 and many more.
Simply loving being Twenty Four.
Basking in this transition
from being childish to being mature.

Half year ago,
I was neither happy nor satisfied.
Now at 24 and a 1/2, and a day older,
I choose never to be satisfied.
And I couldn't be happier.

This is definitely not a Quarter-life crisis.
Its Quarter-life amazement!

Cultivation

Amid a roar of frantic clapping, the excited voices cheered, "Try with 6 now Jaggu". He did. More clapping and more cheers followed as encouraged and surprised by his own little talent, he tried successfully with 7 and 8 also.

The small herd of little kids was getting ecstatic. They were all shouting in unison, "We want Naaine, wee~ want naa~ine". Twelve year old Jaggu was skeptical now. Could he do it? Could he juggle all 9 for a minute without letting any fall? Or rather, should he? Because if even one fell...

Vacillating between his irrepressible excitement and duty, as Jaggu picked up the ninth apple from the thela he was monitoring, at a distance, his angry father could be seen stomping with a thick bamboo stick towards the commotion to give him what was to be 'Jaggu's first lesson'.

Jaggu the juggler was to be Jaggu the Apple seller.

Workstation

Overwhelmed with emotions, wiping off the saline taste of tears from his mouth, he thought, "But whats Hardware without its Software anyway?".

Just then, with a hint of threat in it, a stiff voice called out, "You've been out too long. Get back to work. Work. Work like a robot."

In a haste, he stepped to open the dustbin flap, crushed his drawings, filled his mug with yet another shot of caffeine and went back to his cubicle.

Chasing Deadlines.
Chasing Life.

Carpe Diem

Ah! Life, a probability
The game of chance,
of faith, of hope,
hopeless romance;
recollection, precision,
calculated decision,
deception, intrigue,
nail biting anticipation
never a win-win
its all but a gamble
favourableness, the odds
are all but a ramble
cuz even with
unbiased dice
being objective,
no virtue; no vice
oh right, you can even
maximize,
from a hundred rolls
you're free to learn
but admit it,
all said and done
you could never tell
the outcome of that
hundred-and-oneth turn

कल को कल में रहने दो

कबसे मन में आशाओं का
समुद्र था एक संजोया हुआ
उड़ कर पल में वो बादल सा
जा बैठा है आँखों के पीछे
बहने दो
अब बहने दो

उड़ गया समुद्र जो बादल बनके
तो बचा है केवल नमक वहाँ
चुभता है पल पल घावों पर
सहने दो
अब सहने दो

समय का खेल, पुरानी बातें
सहमा सा दिल, अधूरी मुलाकातें
कईं शब्दों के बीच कुछ शब्द अनकहे
कहने दो
अब कहने दो

भरी आँखें, दुखते घाव
छलकती हँसी, आस है बाकी
है हाल कुछ ऐसा, तो ऐसा ही
रहने दो
अब रहने दो

A Truth Unavowed

~
Beating, defeating
the guilt, disdain
Will the Eagle,
ever, soar again?

~
There it stood with eyes full of hope,
longing, belonging, heart ajar
Why did it forget it is but a Dragon
lonesome, bereft, scared, far

For
Eagles don't flock
and Dragons don't melt
Or perhaps they do
But you'll
never get to see
~
An Eagle's pain.
~
A Dragon's scar.

अब मैं आज़ाद हूँ

शीशे की दीवारों में
कैद था जाने कब से मन
कोशिश तो की
पर चाह नहीं थी
इन रंग भरी दीवारों को
तोड़ कर बहार आने की

इन नए नए रंगों में रोज़
जग दिखता कितना सुन्दर था
बाहर की बेरंग दुनिया से शायद
कैद भली थी शामियाने की

पर क्या हुआ जाने एक दिन
जो आस जगी अनोखी एक
दम घुटा और हमने फिर
तुड़वा डाला दीवारों को

टूटे शीशों का दर्द हुआ
नाज़ुक कोमल से पावो में
धुंधला गयी डरी सी नज़र
जब अश्क बहे इन आखों से

पर समय बीता
हम आगे बढ़े
कम हुआ दर्द और धुंधलापन
रह गए हम एकदम चकित जब
पाया जग को को और भी रौशन

हुए अचंभित चकाचौंध से
उल्लास भर गया रग रग में
नया है कितना कुछ देखने को
इस बहुप्रदर्शक जगमग जग में

ओ साथी तू भी निकल अब बाहर
क्यों शीशे में कैद, भयभीत है?
आ नाच यहाँ खुले आँगन में
इस नए जग का अजब ही कुछ संगीत है

Why I Write

Every time I write, no matter how badly, its like a part of me goes into the piece. Maybe that's why it feels light after penning down sad thoughts and happier after happy ones. 'Pain lessens and joy grows by sharing' they say. This couldn't be truer because every time I re-read these write-ups, it feels like a maturer me is now there to comfort, share and take control of the situation. :)

#Joys-Of-Writing 

#To-Pen-and-Pensive-Moods

एक मुखौटा मेरा भी

~
धरती थी प्यासी
जी कर आया की ऐसे बरसें बादल
हो जाए तृप्त हर पत्ता पत्ता

आसमान खुला था
बिजली भी चमकी, और हवा भी आई
पर वक़्त आने पर
बादलों ने बरसने से मना कर दिया

अब बादलों ने बरसने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
अतृप्त प्यास को कहाँ से बुझाऊं


~
नाव चली थी छोटी सी मेरी
तूफ़ान से लड़ने
करने सामना हर मुश्किल का

नाव भी थी
सन्नाटा भी आया
पर वक़्त आने पर
तूफ़ान ने आने से मना कर दिया

अब तूफ़ान ने आने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
सन्नाटे में ध्वनि कहाँ से लाऊं


~
उतावले थे पाँव मेरे
घुंघरुओं की ताल पर थिरकने को
ऐसे नाचूं की झूम उठे जग सारा

मन भी था
संगीत भी आया
पर वक़्त आने पर
घुंघरुओं ने छमकने से मना कर दिया

अब घुन्ग्रुओं ने छमकने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
बावरे मन को किस ताल पर नचाऊं


~
रात थी दिवाली की
सैंकड़ों दीयों में एक दिया मेरा भी था
बेचैन था जो  जलने को, अँधेरा उजागर करने को

दिया भी था
दिवाली भी आई
पर वक़्त आने पर
लौ ने जलने से मना कर दिया

अब लौ ने जलने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
दिये में आग कहाँ से लगाऊं


~
अपार प्यास
गहरा सन्नाटा
टूटे घुंघरू
बुझा हुआ दिया
उम्मीद भी है, और हसरत भी
पर तकदीर ने बदलने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
मुख पर हंसी कहाँ से लाऊं

Life, Live it, Love it. Unconditionally.

Seeing life through
Rose Coloured Glasses.
Everything seems
Genuine, sincere and pure.
Each action is naive
or done in frivolity.


You love someone?
You tell them.
Do not expect a reply.
This much, here
is a beautiful thing in itself.
Bask in it. Unconditionally.


You fought hard?
And even then you failed?
Calm yourself.
A deep breath there.
Failure is relative.
A sincere effort on your part
is all that matters.
Keep fighting. Unconditionally.


Regretful past?
Lofty dreams?
Unachievable targets?
Be easy on yourself.
Small steps at a time.
Dream on.
Live your passion
and love to live. Unconditionally.


Seeing life through
Rose Coloured Glasses.
Sometimes reality
strikes hard.
The numbing pain
gets unbearable.
Let that tear out.
But always remember to
put those glasses back on.
And smile at the world. Unconditionally.

Going Senile! Peekaboo!

You know you are losing it
When you realize in a sudden fit
You don't want to turn Twenty-four
Is only because it's such a bore
Unlike Twenty-three, which at least is a prime
Breakable, factorable, Twenty-four is a slime!
And as you warm up to "just one short, not quite there"
You'll be 'the overrated Twenty-five' in no time
And you'll broadcast it to dismissive people
With yet another silly post, a crappy rhyme!


#so-old-and-lazy-yet-crazy!

Living up to Expectations*

The loud, piercing voice, showering traces of spit under the hood of a hollow dark shadow, declared over his head, 

“What? You don’t even know the spelling of 

E.M.B.A.R.R.A.S.S.M.E.N.T?”

That's when the descent started really. From then on, the voices, now more of hissing and hushing, have been making sure he never misses that spelling again.

‘Life is a roller coaster ride’ they had said, but he wonders why, for him, the rickety ride up was always pleasurable and never the descent.  

*quite an oxymoron, isn't it?

Living free. My way.

"So what if I failed 
in what I started,
So what if I chanced it
and cried.
Because unlike you
I've 'lived' my way
and on my death bed, 
I proudly would say
No matter what 
my current state
At least, bloody hell, 
I tried.
It may have taken 
my ease away
but the spirit within 
never died"






Yes, they say, I walk like a boy
and oh my, do I care

Yes, I do talk loudly sometimes
cuz' I so love how they stare

Yes, one moment I'm laughing guts out
and another I'm crying like a child

Yes, and I like to eat and hog too
and choke and croak and leap out wild

Yes, for this they call me names I find funny
God bless my creativity or the lack of it

Yes, my jokes seldom amuse them
Bah, the witty fool with a foolish wit

Yes, I prefer randomness
these rules and control isn't just my thing

Yes, so I was never disciplined
that conformist pride I could never bring

Yes, they try to push me pull me
squash my heart and sway my mind

So yes, one day I'll breakaway
leaving this little note behind-

I'm going to risk it,
live life and play

My life is too important
to live it their way
and it's too short too
to pay heed to all the crap they say

For you, again.

Okay, so this is what an endless wait in Bangalore traffic does to you! 

#musings on why it never really sublimed

उतना आनद तुझे हार कर फिर जीतने में नहीं होगा
जितना अभिमान तुझे जीत कर भी तेरी हार में है |
वो जूनून तुझसे फिर मुलाक़ात में भी नहीं होगा
जो मज़ा तेरे इंतज़ार में है |


#a gentle whisper follows

“In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside me where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.” ― Rumi

Such Animality induces Mad Anger!

This is in wake of the public outrage over the New Delhi rape case, demanding death penalty for the culprit. The protests have left many wondering if such a demand (if successful) will actually lead to any reduction in the heinous crime. And many more are just venting their anger out virtually.

Well, so much for hollow-virtual protests! 

Here's what EACH one of us CAN do for a gradual but sure change!


Guys:
1. Next time people in your group talk disrespectfully about a girl, have the guts (rather, be man enough) to shut them up! There and then.

2. The words "Totaa", "Maal", "Item", "Haryaali", "Meri Property" aren't cool. But you are the ones laughing loudest at 'jibes' like these. Can you avoid commodifying girls completely?

3. Can you please at least stop appreciating vulgarity so openly, specially in the movies? Because clearly some men are so incapable of ending it at that.



Girls: 
Just demanding justice isn't enough, a swing downward needs a forceful swing upward for equilibrium! So

1. Join a self-defense class

2. Carry a knife with you at all times

3. Protest NOT for Death Penalty (that's going lenient on the rapist). Protest for a more TORTURE-ing punishment!

A deeply disturbed Delhi Girl. Wishing for peace. Amen.

A Pinch of Salt

# 1
If each dream were big
And they did come true
Then who'd do the dishes
Or work for others
Like you and I do
For such low a price
Who'd cut your hair?
Who'd ever have the time
To just stand and stare?



# 2
Ignored gags
Conversation drags
New friends, new places
This ice-breaking bit
Everything, all of it
Such a crappy shit!



# 3
Hi Bangalore, (Or rather Hi India?)
"Give me some cleaner roads,
Give me some places not made worse by rain
Another one of your wet, garbage ridden corners
and I'm gonna throw-up once again!"

Dreams Don't Die

A body adrift

In the clear vastness

Disintegrating, floating

Immersed, absorbed

In the tranquil waters

Flowing through

Surrendering to Solitude

A comfort that absolves

And amid this ease

A Vortex builds

With a rebellious intensity

Ripping apart

Each revealed particle

Actualizing

Its essence of existence

Collapsed yet free

The detached pieces

Floating loosely

In the massive black hole

Getting pulled

Into a blinding whiteness

Where

Quietly, softly,

A dream gets reborn

Rising

Waiting to shine

What's Better?

You there, the one

With a rounded belly

Chin held high

In egotism, with welly

Leather belts and

Big fat pockets

Sharp eyeballs

In cold eye-sockets

You there, the one

With your upper crust chick

Haughty strides

Dresses slick

Such pride, such envy

Such high heeled shoes

Incapable of compassion

Manipulated rues

Why do you see me

With ridicule and hate?

When I stand in anticipation

At your shut gate?

Is it because

I beg you for food?

Or do my frayed clothes

Appear rude?

My face fatigued,

And my manners crude?

Oh I get it,

It must be because

I stereotyped too

Excuse me, I forgot

That’s the one thing

Done best by you

And pardon me

When I dare to state

That even in my

Haplessness and misery

I feel great,

Because, given a choice

I'm pretty sure

Anytime, anywhere

I’d rather endure

A hard sustenance

A poor house, falling apart

Than be like you

With a hollow character

and a poor heart

Chimes

She falls into her abyss
a void so vast
deep down, melting, dissolving
into the open skies
breathing into a
a giant clear universe
bathed in countless
softly shimmering stars
like pearls floating
atop the drowsy water
making softer tinkling sounds
dyed in subtle hues
of grays and blacks and blues
where silent dreams
glide gently, like feathers
awed, consumed, possessed
by a surreal world
the world of a day-dreamer
or an escapist?

My Valedictory Speech - 2012 :)

I still remember the first day I came into the campus. Through the cluttered Mumbai roads and rains I couldn't hide my disappointment at seeing the "unwelcoming"  gates of the campus and the chaos outside of it. But once inside, my expression changed completely. All the greenery was too good for my poor-eyesight. The Kresit building, hostel 11, Powai Lake, the temple, Sameer Hill, the lanes and the quiet... everything seemed so welcoming. This was to be my home for the next 2 years, and I was looking forward to it.

And now as I stand here, with just two weeks more for this journey to end (If I graduate this year, hopefully :P). Just two more weeks of college life for most of us, I can definitely say the time here has made us strive to achieve our potentials, and has left some amazing memories.

Einstein once said, “Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned in school.” What will we remember about IIT Bombay in two weeks, after forgetting all about Networks, Graphics or... ITPM?
Seniors, Juniors, Batch-mates - Friends.

Friends from all parts of India with their peculiar accents - Learning Khyamadema, ami jol khaabe... Vedi Mulgi aahe re... Inge po, Inge wa.. was a lot of fun! In the beginning there was a common joke on the names of our classmates... Malani, Nihilani, Rajwani, Gokani, Chhatani, Patani... kaise kaise naam waale students hain... par kuchh bhi kaho... sab ke sab studd hain yaar! No wonder then that I experienced apprehension and self-doubt looking around, but this was gradually replaced with a confidence and a quite resolve as I became acclimated to IIT B. I learned a lot from the other students. My respect and appreciation for them rapidly increased as I became more aware of the numerous bonds we had in common. I also made several friendships along the way that will hopefully last a lifetime. So much so that now its hard to believe that these same crazy people are going to be professionals in world's top companies!

We will also remember the most important pillars of the institute, our Professors. It is said - to err is human, to forgive is divine. But now there's a better version of it - to err is human and to really foul things up needs a computer. And trust a Computer Science Engineer to do just that. Who will understand this better than our teachers. They inspire, hold our hands, forgive, forget and guide us through our difficult times. They are like Petrol Pumps, (given the price hike, this seems even more relevant now) - we stop momentarily at their doorstep, and they, having filled our knowledge tank with vision and confidence, wave us off to a fulfilling journey called life.

Oh yes, I’m reminded of yet another version that I cooked up: To err is Student, to forgive Guide. And I owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Pushpak Bhattacharyya for being my mentor and for guiding me throughout my two years. I am also thankful to the entire CSE Faculty for the immense inspiration they have been to all of us here.

We may have disappointed you many times, but leaving the institute we do realize that we carry with us a burden, a Privileged responsibility of being an IIT Alumnus. And all of us here hope to give our best to everything we do in our life ahead and make IIT Bombay proud of us.

And lastly we’d always remember the time spent here at IIT Bombay. From First semester - with the stress of not being able to work enough when you know you Have to, to the Last semester – with the stress of trying to work when you know you don't want to. Birthdays, friendship days, Traditonal days, Department trips, Class trips, and numerous treats. PG Sports, PG Cult, GRA, India winning world cup, KPL, Night outs, meeting strict deadlines, apology letters for coming late to the networks class, trying not to doze off in some other class. And of course getting 'First Zeroes'.

Jokes apart, through the failures and achievements here, I have learnt how to believe in myself. How to not be worried too much in times of failures. And how to remain humble during the high times. In short, how to handle failures objectively and take success subjectively. And in this the college has provided a stimulating, caring, and a very supportive environment.

In fact, following lines may just well sum up what I want to say:

With each passing hour the desire escalates

with each passing day the strivers yearn

Don't want this rigour to cease at all

Don't want an end to this sojourn.

And even as we have to leave

With cherished memories and self-belief

Where-ever we are, we’d always be proud to say

My alma mater? IIT Bombay.

As this beautiful journey ends and we go our separate ways, I'd like to say:

Do what your heart desires. Find the path to your true happiness. Even if it means taking the "road less travelled".

Rise, Shine and always be in your pursuit of happiness.

... and thus spake a Delhi Girl

“Such boisterous nature! I’m sure you must be from Delhi”

“Your first impression was of a haughty girl who is arrogant and always bossing around”

“You’re from Delhi? I’ve heard Delhi girls swear a lot!”

I was baffled at these reactions I got from people during my first few days  in Mumbai - a city, as I was told, that was very chilled out; where nobody really cared about who you were. I couldn’t possibly fathom how any Delhi Girl could be different from the ones from a similar metropolitan. But soon it dawned on me. Yes, there was good enough reason for this difference. For being classified as a 'Delhi-ite'.

I have been born and brought up there. I have spent the crucial 21 years of my life in Delhi. A city where being out of your home alone beyond 9pm is almost a sin; where chain-snatchers, eve-teasers and disgusting-oglers wouldn’t fear going on about with their corrupt actions and lewd statements even in bright daylight. The ‘heart’ of India where wearing a cut-sleeve tee and shorts in Delhi Metro was as inappropriate as butterflies to wicked 10 year olds, they’d pester them even when it’s totally uncalled-for.

How could the ones freely roaming along the marine lines at midnight learn to prefer a backpack with pepper-spray instead of a journalist/side bag in public places. How could the cool and easy going people coming from oh-so-not-Delhi states know why the girls with perpetual stone-faced looks are always ready to remove their chappals for a good thrashing at the slightest sign of mischief.

They say ‘better safe than sorry’. So that’s how we grow up; learning to protect ourselves, be bold and assertive about our own ‘rights to swear’.  Ah! So much for Delhi-bashing! But despite all its lack-of-security (or too much insecurity?) and power-hunger, it has its own appeal. It is the one state (okay, UT!) that will always be close to my heart.

For the uninitiated readers, Delhi’s cultural heritage is only too intriguing. The Red Fort, Purana Quila, Qutub Minar, Jantar Mantar,  Lodhi Gardens are just few indications of a regality that it has been. The ‘chaat’ and ‘chehal-pehal’ of Chandni Chowk, the classy aura of Connaught Place and South Delhi, our own Delhi-Metro, its food and foodies, its shops and shopaholics! Everything about the city is lovely.

Having spent almost 2 years here in Mumbai now, I can definitely say that it may be the fashion capital of India, but it can never match the sense of confidence and asservation of Delhi-ites. Its congested roads, tiring traffic and rickety Best Buses can only dream to match the wider roads, Low-floor CNG Buses  and Metro (okay! We take too much pride in it J)

If Mumbai-rains are much sought after, ask a Delhi-ite how he feels about ‘Garam Pakodas with Adrak waali Chai’ in ‘Dilli ki Sardi’. If Mumbai has the whole of Bollywood housed here, ask A Delhi-ite how proud (s)he is of the Republic Day parades and India Gate and the Commonwealth games being held at Delhi.


Every city is special in its own way. And Delhi, my hometown, has its own exceptional charm. Someone has said (and rightly so) that it can't be described wholly in one person's viewpoint. Every Delhi-ite has his/her own view of the place. His/her own way of getting enchanted by the small city that has so much to offer.  And it is my ‘Clean and Green Delhi’, my 'City of Flyovers' that I'll always miss no matter where I am.

This post is merely a result of reflecting over the scepticism towards Delhi and its people that I have seen in the two years I have been in Mumbai. In no way do I mean to demean Mumbai over Delhi. Because all said and done, “Agar Mumbai India ki Jaan hai, to Delhi Dil se kam nahi” :P

(Pardon the Pjs plz!)

जाने क्योँ

काम के बोझ तले, रोज़मर्रा की दौड़ में
वक्त यूँ ही निकल जाता है
पर अगर माँ से न हो दो पल बात, 
दोस्तोँ के साथ न हो कुछ देर मुलाकात,
तो दिन नहीं बन पाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

कभी तो भरी भीड़ में खोये, डरती हूँ 
पर स्थिर कदम नहीं डगमगाता है
फिर कभी यूँ ही अकेले में
पुरानी यादोँ के बीच एक आँसू छलक जाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

कठिन राह पर, भरी धूप में 
पाँव के छालों का दर्द भी महसूस न हो पाता है 
और कभी तो एक हल्का सा हवा का झोँका ही
अन्दर तक हिला कर छोड़ जाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

मंदिर की सीड़ी पर वो छोटे बच्चे
हाथ फैलाए, प्रसाद से पेट भरते किसी तरह
"मैं क्योँ सोचूं यह सब, मेरा क्या जाता है"
पर रोज़ वो निश्छल आँखें,
हर वो मासूम चेहरा नज़र आता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

Uncertainty!

Uncertainty, it's such a pain,
Uncertainty drove me insane
indecision, anxiety, doubt, dilemma
I wished it were all on the wane
so why is it when life's so certain,
controlled, regular, plain, mundane
it's puzzlement, enigma, chance, fun,
a little uncertainty that I want again?

    

अभिलाषा

*my first ever Hindi poem. It sort of has two meanings - one being told by an individual, the other by humanity (personification).


रोज़ शाम चौराहे पर
लौटते हुए, नाजाने क्यों
होता एक अजीब भ्रम, अहसास है
रौशनी, रंगत, चकाचौंध के बीच
दिखता मुझे एक अँधेरा कोना
खींचता जो अपने पास है

मन करता है बस एक बार
कुछ पल के लिए
खो जाऊं उस अँधेरे में
बस कुछ पल को
पाऊं खुद को हँसता हुआ
लालच, घृणा, मुखौटों से दूर
भीतर के डूबते सवेरे में

पर डर है रह जाऊं ना भीड़ में पीछे
काबू खुद पर आ जाता है
फिर रोज़ नाजाने क्यों लगता मुझको
उस घने अनजान अँधेरे में
आज भी जी रहा अंश मेरा आधा है

अधूरे सपने, भिखरी उम्मीदें,
सहनशीलता, करुणा,
दो लव्ज़ स्नेह के
बटोरे हुए

डरा हुआ, सहमा सा वो
हाथ फैलाए वहाँ रहता है
दबी हुई कराहती आशाएं लिए
दर्द से नम आँखों से
नाजाने क्या कहानी कहता है

Just for fun!

~Poem #1 - Wrote it for a lecture on Machine Translation that I had to take a few weeks back. Just to add some life to the otherwise boring lecture (I did also try including a lot of PJs in there though... Ya! Madness alright! :D )


Syntax, Semantics
Discourse, Pragmatics
Alignment, Multi-Words, Punctuation

Sarcasm, Intention
Poetry, Convention
Phrase Sense, Word Sense Disambiguation

Language Divergence,
Its core essence,
Are all a nuisance for Machine Translation

No matter which you try unriddling
You would still be lagging

If you forget or underrate
The Power of POS Tagging!

A Little Bit of This and A Little Bit of That

A few silly poems

Some shabby sketches

Those random poor jokes

That no one catches

Unprepared speeches

No hesitations

Stealthily reading novels

In exam preparations

Goofy dances

hard to stop

Zumba and tumba

and weird hip-hop

Croaking out songs

Like crazy loons

Grave guitar banging

more noise than pleasant tunes

The game of basket ball

where a tooth was lost

Those races, disgraces

sprains that caused

Sitting alone in evenings,

With deep profound thoughts

Funny fictitious philosophies

Beyond the grasp of clots

Hobbies, recreations

Had all the fun

Been there done that

All said and done,

"Jack of all trades, 

master of none

is certainly better off 

than a master of one"