Wednesday, September 3, 2014
This world sux
U call em cunt, bitch or shit
it wont make a bloody difference,
cos she is d one still controlling ur life,
u dont say nothing and the world is bickering,
u r d fuckin culprit
n she is a queen
Monday, April 22, 2013
What is Success
Success is in fact subjective, as it is about how YOU can achieve the maximum potential. The question here is what does achieving your maximum potential means? It would mean that all your positive energies are being expended towards creating a positive result. It does not mean that there will be complete peace and harmony in your mind and life, but it would mean that you are willing to push further, learn more, put in more and as a result, the outcome is perceptibly large or has the potential to be so. "Life is so short" - this is what it would like when you are realizing your complete potential.
There are days of drudgery and downs but you have overcome that now, you have progressed over the learning curve and broken the barriers of mediocrity. It does not mean you had the clear picture of where you are going and you din't have doubts about the certainty of the dream coming true. It means you were confused, you were doubtful, there was chaos, it was difficult, it was painful, it was changing you substantially all the time, it was uncomfortable but you kept moving, kept pushing forward, tried to make things happen, got frustrated yet tried harder, directed all your anger towards one thing.. Success.. success as you see it.
Success is not an event, its a mindset ,its a journey, a process which translates into failure quickly if the process, the journey is stopped.
The higher the success, the lower the failure, the longer the fall the harder the hit. You have to stay at it. Forever. Commit to it beyond life. Beyond yourself.
It will grow larger than you. It will change the world, atleast the world around you.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
chromosome wars
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Bonne Musique
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Cordially screwed
It said there are crocs in the stream below,
I thought I would jump onto the bank,
Just then I saw a Lion roaring.
I thought to myself "I am cordially screwed"
That. Yeah that is the phase of my current life.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Posthumous existence
Mira was mired by myriad problems of marriage. She had this inferiority spiralled by her husband's ability to microscopically dissect each mistake, magnify it and present it in the glorified platter of guilt. He eventually had the right to show off his magnanimity also. She bought it most of the times. She thought that it was she who was wired wrong way. She lost her confidence completely. She compared her early life to her present life. She thought to herself sometimes " ignorance was bliss". With knowledge of her weakness' and her disabilities she had couched into the fear of failure. What failure she would wonder. But the fear existed. It surfaced in every action. She became defensive and as a result offensive. The fear resulted in more errors, more depression and more errors. Her interiors started to defy everything that was supposed to be done. Even basic functional activities became too much of efforts.
She drooped lower into the oblivion, giving more fodder for her husband to feed on, to digest and to spit it all out on her miserable ego. She lost all desire to improve. It was comfortable down there. It justified her inaction and her unwillingness to do what is supposed to be done. She rebelled against her ownself. She became self destructive. The thought of comfortably numb passed and she could no more bear the state she had reached. In addition to the insult the injury was always added by the husband. A perfect recipe for suicide. She began plotting for her suicide. She researched for a painless way. There were none. Even if there were., they were inaccessible. So she resorted to traditional ways. One night when she became despondent, she wanted to hang herself. She saw a hook on the wall. As she made up her mind, she started sobbing profusely, All the good things in her life came to her. She thought that there is no reason to continue and extend the miserableness.
Every act of human did not seem germane to her.She thought that the cycle of life is illogical and it is high
time she ended the misery.She found nothing in the house she could hang herself with. So she took the thick cables of the cable tv connection and overlapped them four times to make it strong enough to sustain weight. She made the deadly loop that would tighten around her neck. By this time she was nervous and frenetic. She took the chair of appropriate height and climbed up to tie the lose end to the hook. She tied the wires in the hook. She put her head inside the loop. She fastened it for one last assurance. She didnt want to face her family if she failed in this.She was ready . The tears had dried. The sense of freedom was dawning, the hopelesness was gone. She yearned for this sensation for so long.
Just then the phone rang and she slipped. She cursed.But She managed to get her hands on the wire, and get her feet back on the chair. She undid the loop, got down the chair and picked up the phone. It was her husband. She confessed she was committing suicide. He went crazy and started crying. He loved her madly. He just could not know what was wrong with his wife.
He had problems. He thought she was
disinterested, unconcerned and displayed lackadaisical behaviour in the
relationship. His experiences over the period made his actions bitter, which
represented his feelings. He was insecure, unaware, unsure and suffering too.
He pleaded. She promised that she would not do any such thing in the
future.
Things werent normal. This time she planned for an innovative way. She
bought a very sharpened butcher knife. She stored a lot of ice. As she gathered
ice, she put it in a bucket.She put her hands into the bucket. While she
did this, she drank a glass of undiluted whiskey. After about half an hour
she could not feel her hands. She picked the knife.
She slowly made a deep gush in her wrist where the hand begins. Then she cut the wrist at a 45 degreed angle from the previous cut. Then to top it she cut the wrist horizontally up to her arms, till the place she could not feel the pain. Then to make sure she put her head inside a plastic cover and tied it with rubber bands.
In her note she said
"
The fuck you reap what you sow."
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Social Monotony part II
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Me
dreams of success
laziness in bones
and every cell,
Frustrated of lack of achievements,
yet no urge to do any further
Have the faith yet,
may be ignorance too,
Desolate as can be,
Who you lookin at is me
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
My mind speaks sometimes
Monday, July 23, 2012
Rhapsody
Social Monotony Part III the 3rd
The book found favour with the critics.sales also increased with time.
He saw his success, finally.
After a decade, he felt complete and happy.
His success, however small, meant a lot to him.
He was planning how he would face his son. He could not
remember, when was the last time he felt so excited. He was walking
up and down the house. He made up his mind and was about to
leave the house to search for his son.As he opened the door.
He saw his wife and son, standing there.
He could not believe his luck. Lucy said nothing.
She gave a letter, and said she will be back in the evening to pick up
Chris.
The letter read ,
" I knew that I was being the obstacle to your success. I always
had faith that you had the courage to get back up and
fight the pain. I knew that with me around, you would never get
out of your slump.I wish all the luck to you. I have moved on
and have no business coming back. I decided to walk away.
I dont want to give any false hopes. I will never return back
to your life. I trust that you can take good care of Christopher.
I will be fine.
Goodbye".
He felt somewhere, that what she said was true. He was unable
to cry.
He was emotionally distant with pain. He was stronger.
He felt responsible for his kid. He knew it would not be easy.
But he was Ready!
Sales were picking pace. He had an interview scheduled with
the press the next evening. The first question was:
Your book " Poker is no joke" clearly shows your command
on the matter. However, your modest existence does not
reveal that you have used any of the theories successfully
yourself:-
Social Monotony Part III the 2nd
He was comfortable being low. It justified his impulsive behaviour. It justified his downfall, his inability to handle a relationship, to raise a child. He almost even blamed Selena for being so cruel and critical of him. He broke down. He stayed in his room for hours during the day. Walked on the streets in the night reminiscing the golden childhood and teenage life. He missed being happy all the time. The enthusiasm, the life without expectation, anxiousness. He thought with whatever damaged faculties he possessed. He thought he could get it back. But the question was how. His first step was to get back in good health. He could not get up early in the morning. So he hit the road in the night. He began running at eleven in the night. The roads were relatively empty. Even the patrol guards got familiar with him. He got in shape within a month. He was still living off the scraps he was left with.
He started writing again. He wrote in the nights after the jog. He felt that his creativity was best after 12 in the night. He sometimes wrote till three in the morning. He had no money left even for his ink and paper. His quitting alcohol and smoking helped him sustain a bit longer. He put up his personal things for sale. Whatever he kept for sale, was almost sold immediately. Even the most unnecessary articles. He wondered, whether the tides were turning. He had enough money for food and stationery. He felt he was onto something. He even stopped searching for jobs. He felt it made him feel negative. He visited several libraries, researched for hours. In six months he was nearing the end of this book. He started visiting publishing companies with his draft. He managed to land with an interview with an upcoming publishing house. It was known for its repertoire of offbeat authors. The interview was scheduled at early morning. He could not sleep all night. As a result he was fatigued. But, he managed, with his increased stamina. He was expecting to fail initially. But, he had decided to endure and resolved not to give up in any case. He had given up on everything, including himself. He went to the interview, with all the courage and conviction he could mutter. he was still emotionally brittle. He knew he had to handle himself delicately. He therefore, went with no expectation.
As he entered the room, the person was reading something very carefully, not bothering to reply to the greetings of Wayne. After half an hour of waiting. Wayne interfered and asked if he could show his draft, He did not reply. After another fifteen minutes of shuffling through pages, he asked , "So you are Mr. Wayne". It sounded so odd to hear his name after more than eight months. Wayne said, impatiently "lets get to the point". He added, "I have the draft of the book, that I want to get published. I feel your publishing house would be the most suitable for the topic I have written on". " Every statistic, theory , statement, instance is a result of months of research. I have derived something of my own. I believe it will help professionals,amateurs, enthusiasts and even a common reader."
The publishing guy did not seem to buy the claims of Wayne. He read through the first few pages and was immediately interested. He did not show his interest facially though. He asked Wayne to leave the draft with him. He said he will get back to him in some days.Somehow, Wayne felt negative about the whole affair. He went back, thinking it was not as bad as he thought, yet he was disappointed for no particular reason.
The publishing house never got back.
He tried several others, but each time he knocked a door, he found dead ends. He was giving up all hopes of a redemption. He was down and out again. Controlling all impulses from letting him break down again. He started staying indoors again. Out of money and any will power to fight. He cursed his luck for not affording him one chance to get back to life. He was losing his weight and his mind. He seldom left his home. He sold all the things that were not very important. Except for Christophers cap. He thought he should get back to meet his son. But, he remembered the promise that he would not meet Christopher, until he was capable of standing on his own legs.
Three weeks of utter desperation and hopelessness.
He received a call one morning. One of the publishing houses was willing to publish his book. The terms were however heavily lopsided in favour of the publishing house. The royalty was almost non-existent. But he was going to be paid something upfront. An amount he had not seen in a long time. Sufficient for him to begin a new life. He signed up for it.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Social monotony part III
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Stupidity or Suicide .. its d same..
i knew it then that v had another killer under construction,
I had ripped open the interiors of the man,
i had torn apart the hand,
the hands that tortured d kid,
I smiled when he screamed, yes I did.
He was killing the kid from within,
Every wish of d kid was hidden,
every thought manipulated and maneuvered ,
the burning desire to fly was sobered,
D man made him what he wasnt but ought to be,
but thats what the man thought to be,
I saw to it that every nerve is safe when he is ripped,
cos if d nerve is cut, d pain is killed.
He cursed me that I ll be damned to hell,
I laughed at him n began to tell,
I m d pain killer and welcome to hell.
The victim of my lashing,
was nothin but a ghost of my past,
I hoped tat with every scream of his would flabergast
the kid, but he was amused,
he was smiling rather at my stupidity,
but the kid was just me,
I was losing d lucidity, d man was d world,
D man grew so large that i relaised tat I couldnt kill him,
D light in front of my eyes grew dim,
d regret that I couldnt resist d expectation of d world from changing me,
d regret that i couldnt be what I wanted to be.
Came back to me like a Summer sunrise,
Peircing my chest like d arrows tat i had let free,
I saw d dark clouds surround me,
D rain had just begun
n i remembered
tat i had to be blamed for not trying,
I realised that it was not the rain, but I was crying;
Crying like it was d last day,
But indeed it was d last day,
I saw d stream of light finally,
but it was too late n it seemed silly,
cos i felt i could win,
but I had cut my vein,
n there was no tomorrow,
n ma last thought was-it means'no more sorrow'
:-)
Friday, January 22, 2010
let there be more light
My hands were shaking from anxiety when I kept d call,
She was gone n I had to face it all,
she promised to stay, n fled d very next day,
I called her all night until dawn..
I made a mistake in believing her in d first place,
I shouldn't have boozed at all,
I slept for 19 hours n that couldn't be booze only,
Did, she mix something in my drink?
incredible, the plot seemed incredible,
V had done d unthinkable,
n I wasn't getting any of it,
not even acknowledgement,
I saw a letter in my suits pocket,
I pulled it out with wrath,
It said"thanks",
Screw u b**ch,
I ran for my holster,
D glock 18 pistol was not there,
I contemplated what she could have done next,
N i knew thats the only thing when i was at my best,
I cried like a gal ,
n she flew with all the wealth,
I couldn't focus my mind to count the zeroes in the bag,
She had made love n was all that part o the plan,
I tread on the unknown n I killed a guy to find,
That she was dying,
I took her to the hospital and gave her my blood,
as i was the universal donor,
she winced as she tried to open her eyes,
even then she winked at me n said I was a loser,
I spat fury at her,
I asked if I was the victim of a plot or her greed,
She picked her right hand n showed me what she thought,
I said fuck u too n pulled her IV right away,
She said, u wont let me die,
cos that will kill u too.
I brooded on it n I did wat I thought was best,
I took the gun out from her purse,
I had plotted a plan,
I was long dead so I killed myself n framed her,
My dying words were" I love u but m not a loser"..