MMVII

The 31st day of December is to a year what a period is to a sentence. It's that one simple day that marks the end of the road for a little over 360 days. Like the dotty little piece of punctuation, it does more than just mark an end. It completes the sentence, too.

Looking back, it's another year that has slipped past amazingly fast, spawning it's very own list of things that we'd like to see more of, and things we can't wait to end.
Starting with the launch of new cars that failed to grab much attention and going mid-way to pushing my life into 11th grade. Going from justice denied to justice served (read snagged). Shifting from the Vista beta to the Vista Corporate; but still bet(t)a with a lot of bugs. And finally from things that went on and off to things that went on after Saddam left the scene - re-runs...
This was one long sentence, no doubt about it. But given a chance, who wouldn't want to read it again?

Rest assured, though; It is when the period terminates a line, that it makes room for another to begin. With '07 not many hours away, I'd like to wish you all a happy new year.

Confetti, anyone?

Incomplete

____ ____ is about Christmas. _ don't know ____ to say.
What _ wished for __ ____ strictly between
me and
Santa.

We'll ____ out if I've been a good boy all year or ___ pretty soon.

_ hope the red guy got you what you wanted.

_____

Hard water

I interrupted myself while being swallowed in a piece of work to report something that had me feeling the room was filled with laughing gas.

Now, is it just me, or are the soap operas really so soapy that soap feels it's being given a bad name? The answer seems pretty obvious now that I've made the question out in clear letters.
They are soapy.

Little kids have their own and (allegedly) mothers-in-law have their favourites. Call me a cynic if you think it fits into place, but I can't stand watching one of those oh-so-K-full-shows. The same old effects, the same old sound samples...It just gets irritating.

I don't know what they make these shows for, and I can't figure out what they're trying to tell me through it. A girl goes through a ton of pangs and finally gets married to someone whose family is hell-bent on tearing the marriage apart and there's a not-so-distant uncle who wants all the family property so he teams up with his wife and begins scheming and backstabbing but in the end it finally comes back to where it started from originally. Is that what the writer comes up with and tells the director? "That's gold..."?
They could surely do better.

Point two. Why have they made it their mission to copy music off movie soundtracks? Other than that, why do they have the same stale and dilapidated sound effects going on in the back for different shows on different channels? The same ["swoosh!" zoom camera into a couple of still, lifeless faces], ["cymbals!" zoom out of face and make surprised expression]. What in the world does that mean? Is that a dramatic situation where I'm supposed to gasp in horror?
Whatever it is, I can't get myself to stop laughing when it happens.

Three. Sometime ago, a new revolution was in sight. A breath of fresh air for people who watched TV as it was, because some guys created a show that wasn't based on saas-bahu (I hate that phrase) sagas.
2 months down the line, every other show was like that. "Wow! a middle class girl, who has dreams!". Fine. New it was, and the concept unchallenged, but they went back to their roots in no time. Stretching it out like chewing gum. arggh!

The list won't stop and it goes back to last Christmas, mind you. It's tiresome for me to watch something like that with so much depth and count out what all it's flaws are.
And before you creators start criticizing me for saying all this and begin asking me to make something better, I have a suggestion.
Make something that's good. Something that's believable and realistic, because the way you're going, you get unrealistic the harder you try to be real. It's not without reason that you've been pigeonholed.
To sum it up in a couple of points, be original and honest. Don't make something just because you think it's going to fetch TRP, and then stretch it once the show becomes popular.

And if you were, by any chance, thinking how I could say all this after liking an actress who acts in these shows, then all I have to say is that she's far better off hosting shows.

If you're still reading...

It's hard to step out of silence once you realize that you had abandoned a place you used to frequent. It gets harder to come back to your blog if you remember that you still haven't wished Miss Mirza, and it's a little too far down the calendar to reach for a belated card. And it's as good as concrete once you realize that you were gone, and you were gone for no good reason.

I'd rather not waste our time by reaching for a sad excuse for an excuse.
I wasn't here, and many of you might suggest yourselves into thinking that I was studying. Others might believe it's just the hangs 'n pangs of the 11th grade life. To a few, it might be the 'ol writer's block.
But there's more to the story than our sides; there's the right excuse, and then again, there's the truth.
The truth be told: I just couldn't write, and I doubt I can now. Maybe you can see the tremors of my laziness in this piece of writing. I can't say for sure, but abhas1 is looking for a way back into the building.

Late again

Too bad procrastination has got the better of me. Too bad I plan to study and write, but end up saying "Tomorrow for sure". Too bad it's too late.

Time never stops for anything and I'm far from being an exception. Nevertheless, here's wishing you guys a Happy 'Belated' Diwali and Eid.

Unlike last time, I can't really comment on the pollution level in Delhi because of an assorted candybox of reasons.
I wasn't here, for one, and while I wasn't, I noticed that Diwali in Bhopal is more noisy than it is toxic. Secondly, the rising dengue fever had been eating out too much life, so it would actually be helpful to have a smoky rise. Go CO.

Happy "belated" Diwali again. And Eid, that too.

Today

Yes, it's me

I think I've lost track of time.

I slept at 2 in the a.m. yesterday because I didn't feel like going to bed. A lot of questions have been popping up in my head lately. And the head, well, it's being dominated by everything other than it's supposed to be - books. This post won't be making much sense. It lacks everything. Words are being crumbled up. Lke somtings eatin into thm. A bug.

I don't understand what it is that's going on. I've been spinning in my thoughts and they've pulled me in again. Once again. All over again. I am repeatedly reminded of my days in amidst the red-brick walls. I see my self in the winter uniform. Wrapped in a green blazer. Fog. There's a foggy environment. I'm with an old friend of mine.
The wind blows and I rub my hands together. Physics. Friction. Heat. I like it.
The wind blows in my face. I curl up inside my coat, but you can't make that out because you can only see me standing.

Most of these sentences are pulled out from a 1st grade book or are fragments.

Don't worry, I'm alright.

That cause for celebration!

Now, let's sit and talk about the good stuff in life.
You see, there are days that just go by and then, there are days that hang on to you like chewing gum. I don't really know what I'm trying to say here and am far from knowing which one of those days it is, but being part of "the good stuff" in life, today's September 27.

To the inexperienced eye and an unaware calender, today might be pretty useless. But to those like me, today cannot go without being mentioned. Yes-sir-ree-bob, it's the day.
Take a guess and have a look around.
It is because today happened 8 years ago, that you are able to find anything on the internet. It is because today happened a bunch of years ago, that we (or at least I) can be happy watching certain TV shows.

I can't hold it in any longer, so come along people, shout out loud! Happy birthday Miss Rakshanda Khan! And Happy birthday to you too, Google!

iPods on a Plane

Ever since Apple introduced the iPod, it's been racking our curiosity. The big Q is revolves around how they fit so much space into such a tiny shell. But surprisingly, there's a bigger Q.

And now, it's been answered.

iPod + Toilet = Ouch.

It all started when I got out of my seat to go to the bathroom. I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, and returned to my seat. A little while later the two stewardesses on the flight crossed each other in the aisle. They had a quick conversation that I was in earshot of.

"I locked off the front lav. There's something in the toilet that's preventing it from flushing. Run some water and see if you can clear it." My face immediately turned red. The seat cover! I thought. It must have been too big to flush! I should have thrown it out!

I was so embarrassed. I tried to act normal ... I took a sudden interest in the contents of the seat pocket in front of me, acted nonchalant and all. I watched as the stewardess got on her hands and knees in the lavatory and did unfathomable dirty work.

Sometime later, I decided it would be best if I forgot the whole thing happened, so I went to put on my headphones and drown myself in iPod music. But ... no iPod. I panicked, checked my other pockets... [continue reading]

A little word of advice: Don't try this iPod experiment at home.

Surf's Up

Little Billy was ahead and head of the game when it came to having fun. Online gamers knew him as ‘lil Army’, and chat rooms hung him up on the wall of fame. That is, until next morning, when him mom woke him up and told him about the test later that day. “I hope you were up studying all night, Billy”.

Little Billy was behind. In fact, he wasn’t going to touch passing grades with a ten-foot pole. That wasn’t the first test he flunked, and it surely wasn’t going to be the last.
Put Billy aside, it’s the truth that circles most children today. According to what they believe, “School ain’t cool” and “Online rules!” Making use of the information highway to gather around everything but information is what they do. But who is to blame?
Of course, these kids are part of the guilty, but as guilty as they are, parents cannot be left out.

Kids need to instill a sense; a positive knowledge to buckle up and start studying. They couldn’t be more wrong if they think that the Internet will keep them alive. And parents should be trusted to knock some sense into them. They cannot just go and watch TV and expect their kids to study behind their backs, because that would be injustice to both.

Apart from parents and children, it’s school that needs a little cleaning up. Teachers were never told to expect that kids study at tuitions, but that’s what they do. They must ensure that everyone gets attention and must make learning fun. Play Mathematical games and do a Geography quiz to make it sound interesting, because kids resort to escapism only if there’s something they don’t understand. If they don’t understand, it’s not interesting. And if it’s not interesting, “Billy’s gone online”.

And Kids must be taught, because they are the future of the nation. Without studying and only sitting online, the only degree they’ll get is a false one. False certificates will cause insufficient knowledge to overflow, and you might end up getting operated on by a doctor who can’t tell a kidney from a brain.

Isn’t all that worth teaching your kid about the value of education?

It started today

Any more later, and blogspot would have become so foreign to me, that my body's immune system would have started attacking it.

Quite frankly, they've begun the attack, and I'll have to move out of my absence so that I can begin to step foot into a stage of recovery.
Anyway, I don't really know how many of you have gone by what the title suggests, but last year, today, FHW came into action.

Finding the scene being focused on blogging, I started out by researching on what blogs actually were and chanced to hit Blogger.com. Read a couple of pretty looking "web-logs" and hit myself with the bravery to slap my own blog into cyberspace. But now, I recall, that before I actually went up to set my blog's URL, I was afraid to pick my own ID; I cancelled the blog making process twice, but ended up satisfying my curiousity.
I finally decided that if I ever were to write about something, it just couldn't be conformed to one thing, hence the title - "a few hundred words" - something about not just one thing.

So there you have it, folks, from writing everywhere to somewhere, about the Indian Government, to Sania Mirza, from CBSE's delayed action, to Delhi streets, from Miss Khan, to poetry; that's 60 posts, around 14,400 words and a round off 210 comments.
Call me a show-off, I've somehow been pulled into the regions of GlobalVoices (ha!) and have been added to IndianPad, anonymously, by anonymous people.

Call this a cause for celebration (#7), for I can see confetti filling my view.

Freedom!

Some time over 60 years ago, Mahatma Gandhi realized what he was fighting for - a nation that now aims to become a superpower by 2010; a nation that has patriotism and extremism growing day by day, every minute, every hour of the day.

An aftermath of the RDB effect, people realize that the immediate government is suddenly responsible for any and everything that goes wrong - be it a man trying to commit suicide or a person being fired from his job.
Of course, it's reason enough to think that way when a series of events, circling criminal cops and addicted politicians, hits the front page like an axe hitting a tree. But is it reason enough to call it out on a protest and rush up to India Gate?

I, for one, support the fact that we are moving to a stage of awakening, but blaming the system responsible for everything wrong just won't cut the mustard. In fact, what it will do is make it worse, because by blaming it, we forget the fact that we're the ones who choose and make up the system, but end up throwing our fists in the air with anger moving in the wrong direction.
We, as the next generation, have in us what it takes to move India to what it dreams about, therefore it is our duty to understand that running up to national monuments to show a sign of protest doesn't do what we actually want it to do.

Protest is a weapon to reckon with, and by using it like there's no tomorrow, we are actually not going to be able to use it tomorrow. And today, just give it a break.
Forget the fact that half our politicians don't know Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi by his name. Lose the controversy that falsely circles remix gals. Let go of the belief that a candle march up to The Gate will speed up justice.
Today, look up to the orange, white and green, and salute it for what it is - The Bird of Gold which isn't far from sunshine; the nation that produces more engineers and doctors than any other; the nation that first bribes and then shows what they've caught on hidden camera.
The nation and the nationality that I'm proud to be? Sure, India rocks!

So today, give it a salute. Let your eyes speak out Vande Matram, and scream out "Lose Control!". Today, go ahead and fly a kite.

Out of exile

Alright.

So maybe the 'brief exodus' lasted a bit longer than expected, but hey, I say amen to 'better late than never'.

And now, as I look back, I see that it's been a little over a month since I became one of the men in blue, got heroic enough to step foot in the yellow bus everyday and have the pale rust walls blur into vertigo around me. I just got so caught up with stuff that incidents came and passed me by, but I just sat there and did nothing.
This nothing stood a little too literal and began to creep not only into my academic life, but also my eyes.

Procrastination must be dealt with.

During this time I had with my pen and paper, I wrote a little rhyme revolving around my new school to break the little leave I took from blogging. Unfortunately, the only part of the poem you'll see is an Error 404 - that, because today's *ahem* incident is definitely going to put it off. Off. Off.

And hurray! I finally got Tagged!

I am thinking about: School; Exams in particular, which met commencement today.

I said: "Hi". Then the teacher told me to go back to my seat.

I want to: Do lots of stuff. Most of which is dependent on my computer, which is yet to be fixed. Oh, and I want to study. And score high. And make my parents proud.

I wish: A miracle would happen. Today. Right now would be pretty good.

I hear: Sounds, and play them in synch and order till something strange that qualifies to be a tune hits me. Then I wake up the next day and see that I've forgotten it completely.
Oh yeah, and I hear the music flow when I let my iPod blow.

I wonder: Am I doing this right?

I regret: Not putting enough time into books, which could possibly spell a much better school year.

I am: An AMO3BA, me? A fan of Miss Khan and Miss Mirza? Me? My name would be mud as far as they'd be concerned.

I dance: ...or do I?

I sing: Anything, anywhere. Well, not everywhere.

I cry: Silently.

I make with my hands: Victory and loss; I make with my hands what language cannot speak.

Rock on \m/.

I write: What you're reading here.

I confuse: Wait. I'm confused...

I need: A feeling of doing stuff right. I need to achieve so I can plead my parents to buy me some cool e-gadget.
And I need to smile and be happy. :)

I Tag:
Oooh. This is going to be good.
A-lite
Avanti!
Jang!
Sat
Sid
The mocker

Glad to be tagged Free-S. You woke me from Blog-o-pause.

The whole system is falling apart

Blogspot off India Pak War Terrorism Lives Hopes Dreams Desires School Hard Drives Failure Death Destruction Salvation Worry Fear Abhas AlphaONE series60 Corruption Hands Friends Ray of Light Smoke Poems Life Scam Movies Aftermath Records Copies Homework Refusal Girls Rejection Misconception Thanks Gratitude Words Amoeba Shift new school people politics Blues Time Loss God Prayer Rap Punk poking fun at me Crush Like Love Talk [HELP] Message Sania Mirza Creations Art work Hard SMaRk Photoshop Flash all lost deceit Default Ability Smile Stars in the eyes Holding hands Direction the wrong way the right way Shadenfraude Darkness Greed Want Need Live News Rakshanda Khan Audience Applause Greetings Boos Chewed up Does it end? Does it begin? Wait struggle Jack dude cool Touch Spins Vertigo Claustrophobia Check Pass preparation Zero Exam Test Hand strengths Weaknesses possessiveness obsessive forgetfulness cheat loop

The attack

A certain disease has taken to reproducing itself in thin air, with a motive to infect multiple Operating Systems. And as fortune would have it, the systems most affected lie in my vicinity.

It was first a Symbian based, “series 60” communication device, and now, all my art, all my creations and all of my work seems to be locked in a Hard Disk Drive, hanging out in a zombie state.
And about those systems crashing and reporting all sorts of “colored screens of death”, the magic 8-ball points to a lesser chance of recovery.

Now, I’m looking for a way to interpret this in a positive manner.
Sure, it must’ve just happened because someone out there realized that I needed to focus on ‘the 11^th grade life’. Maybe the Amoeba just needed some time off from those bright pixels, but since he refused to move his eyes away from the screen, the screen moved itself.
Well, I understand where this is going, but I hope there’s a way to prevent all my data from being lost. I hope there’s a secret hiding place for all those PSD files, deep underground to escape any damage caused by nuclear fallout.

You see folks? This is a learning experience. I learned it the hard way, but you can choose to learn from my mistake. I should have had backup.
The phone should have been backed on the computer, the computer should have been backed on a separate hard drive and the separate hard drive should have gone into backing in a similar pattern, being part of this strange loop.

Zieg Heil to HDD failure and bugs, for they took me back to the basics, back to the pencil and back to the paper.

Those pale rust walls

Deep inside, I was afraid this might happen. The whole school year, this piece of information bounced on the walls of my subliminal mind, but I refused to accept that it might ever happen.

Conversely, it happened.

Moving away from those red brick walls so suddenly was meant to minimize the pain of leaving the school in the first place, but the fact that I've acquired a Transfer Certificate still hasn't really found its way in my head.
I can't really figure out what happened, and it all seems to be happening so fast.

Within a span of a little over 48 hours, I noticed I'd never be amidst those red bricks again and tomorrow, I'll have to place myself in a bus, taking me to the "pale rust" walls of a new world.

And as it is with every new turn, the body hesitates to accept the change it faces. That is exactly what makes me tell my Mom and Dad that "I don't wanna go!" but eventually, "I'll hafta go".
Well then, that's that. Goodbye 'ol red brick walls, it was surreal spending time amidst you.

I hope you regret not having me around.

Because it takes a man to be a Dad

Here's to the man. The man I live with and the man who loves to live with me. To the man who smiles through every adversity, but loses heart with the falling prices of the newest gadget he's bought. Here's to the man who promises to spend time with me, but work follows him around. To the man who taught me how to live life, while tackling his own.
Here's to the man, who raises a toast to my victory, while supporting me through every fall.

Here's to the man who I call dad. Happy Father's Day!

Just buying tears...

Rahul Mahajan. I've been hearing that name quite a lot of times for the past couple of months. The man seems to be going through some rough times.
Who knew that he'd be crying out into a film noir jail, instead of shedding tears for his father's end?
In fact, I actually believe that I'd be shaking my head if you asked me if his father's death affected him at all.
Look at the guy. You'd think one would break the addiction after something like that happens.And now, the best chance he has is to try and spend time in rehab.

The red eyes he looked through and the green he spent, all for making his head cold like the hawaiian temperature, and spin around in rave amidst X, has gotten him well from point A to point B to point minus C. What else is strange is that AIIMS also agreed to conceal his information, but you know what happens to lies later -- it got busted.

What annoys me most, is the fact that the truth can be bought.
In a society like ours, where one of us decides to rape a girl or kidnap a little kid behind dark glasses, there's a ticket on tinted car windows. Unfortunately enough, there's a way to bribe our way out.
Sure, there's hundreds out there, going high on crack as you're reading this. Then why is it that there is even a chance that their doctor tells the police that there are no drugs involved?

A cop is there to fine you when you don't wear a seat belt to make sure you wear the belt next time on, and not just to do so when there's a chance you may get caught. And then there's the cop, who loves to be called a policeman, for letting people go off for a few hundred bucks, and for pulling over people and asking for a ten when they've done nothing at all.

Usually, for posts like this, you'd see me crying about the future collapse. This time, I say, we are the ones who can change the way the story goes.

I'd like to conclude this by adding a little rhyme I wrote sometime ago.

That was today by abhas1

From the white of angel wings,
to the black of scorpion stings,
I'd be walkin' god,
amidst a crowd of fraud,
where "cease peace" is the GenX scream,
and top-notch evils are the society's cream,
a starless night is longed to be a dream,
before getting into the media mainstream,
in a world like this,
there's only words like "shit",
your only chance to seize the moment,
before you get hit,
dog eat dog,
limelight hogged by a hog,
a challenge to clear the corruption smog,
salvation for poor?
only predicted by the wrong,
there's a fire to be fanned,
criminal cops to be banned,
there's a mission at hand,
choices, challenges and,
hypocrites on our land,
so be sure of what you do,
so you don't end up like those corrupted few...

Finally, a cause for celebration

Going to sleep at three in the morning and waking up at six has a feeling.

Then again, going to sleep at three in the morning after taking a few shots of insomnia (mixed with excitedness and anxiety, mind you) straight to your head, and waking up a few moments before the clock hits six a.m. only to find out that you've scored 88% in Science and 93% in English has a completely different feeling altogether.

But ten hours after something like that happens, the feeling starts to drift away.
Let my confetti not go to waste, and spread it in the air before this day becomes yesterday -- Board results are out.

After much pain and a wincingly strange onslaught of depressing thoughts that used to hit my mind, this is a much needed cause for celebration to pull me out of the sea of sorrow that I was drowning in, not to forget this is one celebration post in a long time.

Not much of a celebration to you, but hey, this goes in my record for the first time.
See the confetti in the air?

And then the results...

I really love to stretch it out, don't I?

The Sisters are In...

Sometime ago, I decided to walk alone on a poorly lit street, not many miles away from my imagination. I, pretty soon, made it a hobby, and started enjoying the sound that hit my ears when I rubbed the soles of my shoes against wet gravel.
As time moved on, that darkness started drowning me into screams that filled the empty road. The street moved out of my head, and soon became the capital of India.

Girls tell me they won't do higher education here. They say they'd rather not do college from here. They tell me it isn't safe here; they tell me that Delhi isn't safe for women.
It's only right what they said. Nobody deserves to live a half-dead life.

It's getting harder to spot a single week (read day) without "rape" being mentioned in the news.
One day it's that boy from across the street, the second it's those bullies from college and another day, it's your neighbour. Any guesses for who's next?

For a society like this, I blame something that it reflects and affects most - the movies.
Ban the smoking, and pay a few hundred bucks to watch something that's bound not have a bad effect on society - a mediocre porn movie.
Why does something explicit manage to get a "U\A" at a maximum and smoking cannot be shown on-screen? Is it because smoking is something the young are bound to copy? Then won't they copy something that fires up their libido?
I assume that is what they are doing, and that is why they are watching that movie in the first place. And trust me, there's nothing that will hit more of the masses than a movie, be it in a dark multiplex or via a pirated CD.

Because that's a medium most of this generation looks up to, smoking has been canned, but why is it not the same with sex that makes them even more desperate?
As for the nicotine, ask the boy in 10th grade who's already going up in it's smoke.

Heck, and as long as you are throwing in reservations in college for "backward" people who stand tall at our level, put some in for the ladies, too. They're going to be part of the minority once feticides and sexual abuses reach surface.

Copycat dolls

I believe plagiarism requires a lot of dishonesty. For whatever it is that someone does, they must ultimately end up lying to themselves in order to subdue their soul's voice, which does not allow them to do so.
Either that, or maybe they are so deeply in love and are so heavily inspired by someone, that they decide to copy them, and plan to go even farther than they did...

Blame Kaavya for pushing me into writing this, for I assume she was only trying to do what Bollywood had being doing for so much of history -- borrowing a movie's plot, without much permission, and showing them to Indian eyes and all that, while crossing their fingers and hoping no one would notice.
And that's the flaw, because people will eventually find out, and that's exactly what happened with her.

To top it off, plagiarism causes a man to completely lose all long-term sense. Either that, or they never really thought about the future at all.
When someone copies to be better, they obviously have the intention of not letting anyone know about it. And say, if they get what they want, and nobody notices, then somewhere in time, everybody will do the same. And if everybody becomes the same, where will new ideas come from? The masses will then grow out of the tired, tried, and tested same everythings! And they will finally demand something new and original, and thus, at that time, anything new will stick and the copies will end up losing. Again.
So, plagiarism will not only end up destroying the world, but it will also kill itself!

Ring in the future collapse on this one?

Sand in the eyes

Run up to your school everybody. Run up to hell's gates, run away from your classmates.

Why is it that a boy must come home from school, only to find his mother forcing food in his mouth, all because he doesn't want to end up being late fore the bell rings at a second school? Hell yes, I'm talking about coaching, and while I'm at it, put in those tuitions and extra classes, too.

School is not what it used to be, or so I believe. You can't go there alone and expect to learn what you need. And what's worse is that every teacher knows it, and so does every student.
Kids decide that they'd rather not waste their time in school studying, and brush up on their facts at a nearby coaching institute. And problem two originates because teachers know this, and keeping it in mind, they also go: "what the heck..."

I was told that school was meant to teach, and if this is what's going on, then the whole purpose of school now is to make us go through the all-India Board exam and provide a graduation certificate.

Why is it that kids rush to small, crowded tuitions? Are they more concerned about their future? Do schools not know that a majority of their science students want to end up in the IIT? If they do, then why does one prefer coaching? Why in the world does school not do what those institutes are doing? And on top of it all, why have we closed our eyes, and accepted that this is the way that the story goes?

And as long as we continue to move with a bullet in our heads, we move closer to the future collapse.

Oh those Red-brick walls

Most of us would rather be pretty unhappy to see school start out early.

Yeah sure, who likes to go sit into half dead classrooms, and that too, on the second floor? Shouldn't we just wait until our Board results come out so that science students stop shuttling back and forth between commerce and humanities?
Amazed or not, most of us people decide to aim at the negative as answers to these questions.

This is what happens when you take the kids to the movies, weird newspaper and weight management workshops, and field trips instead of making them tediously open their backpacks and start looking for pens lost in its depths.

One week into this mess, and I've realized that it's not back to the blues this time!

Damn dam!

Aamir Khan is fighting a cold war. He raised his fist silently, and has come against the construction of the Narmada Dam, all for a noble cause. This dam will seemingly plague the lives of 3 lakh people, who live in the surrounding area.

He stands tall, offering autographs to no one. He stands tall, amidst the crowd of people hailing "Save Narmada!".

By doing so, he holds hands with the common man. He walks a vague path, laid and made by others like him. Shah Rukh Khan cleaning the streets of Mumbai is another example in its name.

***

When these celebrities turn into activists, we see stars with stars in our eyes. They then suddenly become good guys, and the good ones become the better guys. And, that's pretty much about it.
Yeah, that wraps it up.

We tend to forget what they were doing there, let alone asking why they were there in the first place! And all this gives birth to the society we know, the society we live in, the society we kill and the society we breathe in.
It gives birth people who believe that the celebrities are only trying fetch media and public attention. And as obvious as it may seem, they become the apple of some other eyes.

Now, you see, Aamir is fighting for a noble cause. He is against the construction of the Narmada...The Narmada... Damn! I forgot.

That's what I call Chinkara!

A fan goes back to his home, and reaches for his room. He tears those posters off the walls, and hides in a corner, trying his best not to breakdown. He looks into the mirror, and behind those red eyes, he fails to confess. "I was never a fan anyway..." he says.

Affected by the same, another fan tries to cope. He looks up to his pictures, and his posters; He dares not take them down.
He prays to God, and seeks help and consolement. He only waits for these evil days to end. He only waits for these moments of pain to end. Many moments. Many, many, many moments...

And now, both of these fans rejoice. "Hey, Salman has been granted bail!"
That's a bail after spending three whole days behind bars, waiting for the Court's hearing. All in for killing an endangered Indian Gazelle. They tell me there's going to be some 5 years down the line...
I'm sure jail wasn't anything you saw in those movies, was it Salman?

And bail? That's only for now.

Into the Demon Days

This is not good.

My life has been put on hold. Now, all of it is more of a painting, hanging quietly on the wall, waiting to be noticed by a silent observer.

Darn.

I came to realize that I have not faced the world. It's not easy at all, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to live with my own self. I know the value of everything that I do and all that I don't, but I still just sit there, still waiting for somewhat of a miracle to happen.

I know that those books that I have are meant to be read. I want to read them, and I want to ace my next test. But my motor nerve fails to send this message to my hands. I know that by not working hard, I will end up as a confused soul, trapped in regret. I know that by not studying today, I'm risking my future.

And if it keeps going this way, I'll end up struggling to live. I may have to steal food and money to live. I may have wanted posters of mine, posted at every local Police Station -- 4 of them, and with 2 of them at the same angle.

I also know that my performance is degrading, and this post would be better if I didn't post it at all. My work used to be better, but somewhere, something went wrong.

Please forgive me.
I just cannot bottle it in anymore. This weight is getting heavy and harder to hold.

Another man's story

As we move on, there come many walls. Walls that block us, obstacles we must jump over. These walls may worry us, but the future is nothing we should worry about.

Stand firm and face your destiny, without fear, but with courage.

The Time is Now by abhas1

As the world turns,
and the fossil burns,
there will be houses on fire,
in it a child's life shaken,
he'll have a burning desire,
to go on higher,
and become one whose demise
will be readily planned
by a bomb in disguise.
"Curses! He lives!"
to the enemy's surprise.

He'll raise his hand
to the new world kings;
pursue the marching bands
to follow the army's rings.
When he say a word,
the rest of the world be blurred,
for his voice only
will be the one that's heard,
and civilians and protestants alike
will nod their heads,
to what he says through the mic.

When he prepares to leave,
after finishing his speech,
there will be a leech
with a rifle aimed at his sleeve.
But the man will fail to die,
the opposite-ally's plan be foiled again,
for there are fifty men
who follow him sly;
who bullet-proof him
in a dark black shade,
in this rally of hate.

Ergo the man,
will live to look,
for his food,
the world will cook.
With dreamy eyes,
he won't dare despise
the media that will
splash his every thought,
his every action,
into every paper ever caught;
for it's the news mainstream
that will keep him on TV
or take him to a ban.
He'll keep his head high,
as he signs for a fan.

There's not many
who love his identity,
they burn easy in envy.
But he lives not for them,
he lives for truth,
in this world of lies,
and salvation walks up to him,
as he flies.

There's only a few
born to this fate,
others work hard
to open this gate.
So then, what's the wait?
Show the world who you are,
don't dare be late...

One man's story

You can keep running away. You can escape the long arm of the law, and you can escape the truth.

But your shadow will follow you. Will you be able to face the man in the mirror?
Will you be able to answer yourself?

Those nights by abhas1

He regrets it,
why he ever did it.
He made his decisions;
his choices, his visions.
He decided to be out,
smoked up till a scout,
tobacco in the morning
and crack at night,
he shocked to find
that he's still alright.

Liquor when he's depressed
and alcohol to cheers,
He remembers he ran,
away from home in hope,
to find them following a fan,
but he ended up with dope.
He's lost and he can't cope;
Unable to brave death,
and too scared to live,
all that he has
is nothing he can give.

He looks back into it,
when it burned in a fit.
He goes back to see,
covered himself with lies,
that'll protect him from glee.
He steps foot into his house:
It's an empty floor,
an open door;
His house is nothing
but broken walls in the shadow of hope.
Unable to cope,
he seeks truth
in a puddle of lies.
He runs away by foot,
as he smokes another boot.

He coughs after every breath.
He knows not that
by running away,
he tries to escape the mat,
he goes around in circles,
in a field he lost his bat.
Is this the life that he wanted
Smoke, crack, drugs and booze?
What awaits him down the path,
he will then have to choose...

The world is changing?

The world has become a scary place, and it would be quite foolish to walk around with an "S on your chest". You never know what the other person feels, or thinks about you. And now, it's quite possible to kill someone, and get away with it.

The same seems to have happend with Jessica Lall. She was seemingly shot in the head, by a politician's son.
By the time Police came in, the whole scene was cleaned up, although a few people were taken in.

And then, something strange happend. All of the 9 accused people were let free.
A chain reaction was undoubtedly imminent. This sparked off a wave of protests all over the country. Thousands, from children to seniors, all marched against this system.

This may be too harsh, or maybe it's just the way I feel. Perhaps I feel so because I've been out of contact of the outside world for so long. Now, even the slightest thing seems to push me around.

And now, as Jessica's case hits re-trial, hundreds of others look up to the white light, and wait their cases to do the same.

***

The fact remains that it is the "what if.." that shakes us.
"What if I don't wake up to see tomorrow?"
"What if he kills me?"

It is the "what if" that is the risk in life. It is the "what if" that shakes us from the "I will" to the "will I?", and it is the same "what if" that makes us go from the "will I?" to the "I will".
Life is thus, all about taking that risk to live another day.

Guess who's back!

The Boards have come, and the Boards have gone. And much like the West Wind, they do so every year, posing as destroyer and preserver. They have caused some to put an end to their existence, and others to sow fresh, new seeds in life.

As this went on, so did pointless debates.
Before the Boards actually began, people started speaking out on the evergreen question: "Should there be any Boards at all?", and pretty much everyone was actively involved. Answers came out ranging from the 'Yes' to the 'No' and to the 'Maybe so'.
Pointless, like I said.

So then the Boards' storm invaded this year, too. Some gave their best at hand, and others who were unable to cope, put an end to it all. Nothing new, it's the scenario from every other year.

Yeah well, they're gone. For now.

In the eyes

The sun was bright that day.

My watch died on me. It stopped dead in its tracks, but a clear knife cut through soon enough. Time didn't.
And it wouldn't stop if I failed. I would not stop, even if I did. And as long as this world will turn, it will continue its course. A course that has no end, for it is a loop.
The final countdown has begun, and this is surely not a dream.

The clock has begun to tick life away.

So many times have I felt the urge to put a gun to my head, but I always stopped before pulling the trigger. There was a force of people who took that gun away from me, and burned it in a corner of hell. And it is those people, that I would like to thank today.
So, thank you all.
Thank you Mom, Dad and Family. For working with me when I became hostile. Without your help, I may not have been who I am today. I may not have put up this blog, and you may not be reading this.
Thank you jang!! and sataract, for offering your help, and teaching me a variety of coded languages(!).
Thank you Sid, for giving me precious pieces of advice, without which I would end up like the millions, with regret in their mind.
And there has been a certain light, brightening up my Tuesday nights, credit goes to Miss Rakshanda Khan for that.
And last, but certainly not even close to least, thank you Sania Mirza, for being the inspired and the inspiring.

And as I looked outside my window today, I did not see any rain. No clouds either. But when I looked outside, I saw children playing. Sounds of their joyous songs, the jeers and sneers...
That reminded me, of my days back then. I was happy, waiting for somewhat of a miracle to happen...

Till then, there is hope.
And it is hope, that drives me. That's why I check my horoscope everyday. It is hope that fuels me. That's why I watch Sania's match everytime.
It is hope that's keeping me alive.
Hope, that some day, I will fly like the eagles. Hope, that one day, kids will look up to me.
Hope, that one day, I will win.

Wake me up when March ends

The rain is nothing new. The sky has been black, as black as night, all day. Number 52***** puts the oil in the midnight flame.

He is unable to bear it now. The burden exceeds his limits, or so he thinks. A victim of a shattered mind, the guilt, the feeling of failure eats into him. Those termites, they've hollowed him, and now they've reached surface.

There is not much time left. The ink is in it's bottle, and Abhas just doesn't have it in him to start writing. He thinks dreaming with his eyes wide open will take him to his heights. He is on the verge of collapsing, and he wants his goals accomplished, served to him in a silver platter.

Till then, a sound echoes inside: "You're gonna keep running away?"

"Keep running away?"...
"I'm not running..."

15 years of life

This one is for all those of you who read my poems, and asked me if I really was 14. The truth be told, I no longer am 14. Yup, now I'm 15!

On having completed 15 years of existence, I realize I haven't done much. Seems I've wasted so much time, and I don't see cold, hard results. And it's often this that makes me feel guilty.

I don't understand why my parents have done so much for me, and I haven't given anything in return. I'm no ace student. But people do keep faith in me. They believe I can do better.
I dream with my eyes wide open, and I reckon there's not much I'm doing to achieve them.

There's a lot I still have to do, but will I be able to do so, and make all go as planned? A wave of doubt runs through me.

And as we go along, this world keeps turning. I just hope I don't fall behind time...

Cause for celebration #5

Like I said earlier, "When I open up the sports page, I open it up to celebrate Sania Mirza's victory".

To all those of you who still don't know what's going on, let me tell you. Sania's moving up the line, and she has reached the 'Gaz de France'. And being the winner in most situations, she's managed to defeat the sixth seed, Panneta.

Now, articles like this are really cool-great-awesome-ohmygod-and what not. And they're really helpful for me, epsecially when I'm busy tearing my head apart, worrying and studying for the boards.

And like always, I'd like to wish her the very best of luck.

Remember what I told you last time? I told you there were going to be more days like this, and there will be much more, too. So, let me hear a big hand for our FHW winner!

It is time...

Lightning tears open a cloud, but the rain is yet to fall. A worried Abhas looks outside the window, before slipping into the darkness of ink. The sound of the pages turning echoes in the hall, lit only by a dim flame.

He looks outside the window once again, as he hears the sound of the falling rain. Distracted, he shakes his head and gets back to work. As he looks into the words, he reminisces. He falls into himself, and tries to remember the time he had in the whole school year. The teachers, the books, those sneakers, the way they looked. He remembers and trips to nostalgia...
The friends, the enemies, the ends, the remedies. But he fails to remember, and is unable to get his facts right. He finds it not only difficult, but near to impossible to make sense of the letters they've written in the books. And now, there's only a month to go.

But he promises himself. He swears never to fall. He swears he will stand tall.

Boards are getting nearer by the second, and for now, all that he knows is that, pretty soon, they'll be giving him a number, and taking away his name.

R-Day today!

Now, 26 January cannot go unnoticed. It's not just another day, and to most known extents, it's Republic Day. Although most events today did bear a resemblance to the 26 January last year, there were some things that made it more special than the 26 January last year.

There was the usual Republic Day parade, and thus there was a guest invited to watch it, too. King Abdullah Bin Abdulaziz Al Saud - the hereditary ruler of Saudi Arabia - paid a visit that India won't soon forget.
He not only came and saw, but also promised to "fight terrorism and extremism regardless of faith". There's a new deal coming in sight. India and Saudi Arabia also signed agreements to protect and promote investments, avoid double taxation and boost greater interaction in sports among youth. Saudis also offer business deals in the *expected* oil sector, along with infotech, biotech and medical sectors.
Now there stands a partner through the eyes of India.

And there's this best piece of information that I was saving for last. This is, perhaps, the greatest cause for celebration ever!

>>> Sania may have packed her bags early in the Australian Open, but she won't have anything to be sad about. That's right folks, Sania Mirza will become the youngest person in the whole history of forever, to receive the honourable Padma Shri award. Now I'd like to tell you all that the Padma Shri is the highest civilian award, second only to the Bharat Ratna. And she'll get that next year...heh...
A salute, and hats off to the girl who made her parents proud.

Can you see the confetti in the air?

The ghost of Quảng Ðức

Remember Thích Quảng Ðức ?
A similar protest was seen within the boundaries of Patiala, Punjab. The leader of a push-cart vendors' association - Gopal Krishnan Kashyap - went out to an act of self-immolation, to protest against the alleged failure of the Municipal Corporation to provide them a site to operate their dhabas.

As he set himself on fire, people gathered around him. They crossed their arms, and some didn't find the time to wipe the smile off their faces.
Pity. Nobody dared to stop him. No one person tried to say a word, and press, the media came following like a swarm of flies. The only effort they tried to make was to switch on their cameras and record the scene. Rewind and play, again and again on their channels.

Only when Kashyap was unable to bear the heat and fell, did I hear screams that left me disturbed. A light of hope shined though, when a few people brought in blankets to put an end to the oxygen-fed flame.
Kashyap, though alive, suffers from 85% burns, and is in a critical state. And now a case is being filed against Kashyap, for attempting suicide.

I have nothing left to say.

Mondays don't suck!

Well, I have a reason to be happy about, sort of. Pre-Boards are finally over, and now I can start biting my nails off, worrying for the Boards.
Quite a thing, eh? But I still have a month to go before the apocalypse.

Anyway, to all of you who don't have a reason to smile, here's a litte rhyme to help you enjoy your time!

Monday Mornings by abhas1

Every monday morning,
I wake up to an alarm,
look outside the window,
just gaze at the farm.
Every monday morning,
is not so bad,
after all I believe,
it's a saying of Dad.

Cause for celebration #4

Ah yes, the Sports page. The one page that most of the world wakes up to. The one segment of the newspaper, that many people enjoy with a cup of coffee. The very page, that can enrage civilians, get them fired, or make them happy. And it's the same page I open up, to celebrate Sania Mirza's victory.

For those of you who don't already know, Sania's been playing here and there, and she's reached the Australian Open. She is seeded 32, and she's already started playing, and not to forget - winning. She has already succeeded in defeating her first opponent - Viktoria Azarenga - and that too by an awesome 7-6, 6-2!
Next on her list is Michaella Krajicek (how am I spelling all this?!). Sooo, like always, best of luck to her!

And I guarantee you, there are going to be more days like this...

Far from the light...

Put yourself up for a blindfold, and look out the window. Can you see? And neither can I.
I've been made to walk with a bullet in my head, and so is the nation that aims at becoming a super-power by 2020.

At the level of being so common, we are supposed to not think about anything we do, and here, the school system poses as a definite example. Students must manage to remember every single thing they are told in class, which is very close to nothing, because every teacher has taken for granted a sad fact. The fact is, that every teacher just so knows that every person in class, especially by tenth grade, has joined an extra class centre. So in-depth details have already been bid goodbye, and just imagine subdueing your curosity just for the sake of passing.

And here, passing isn't something you can be happy about, for your best friend in class will usually stand as your finest competitor. To overtake the competitor, we will cheat in every exam. To overtake the competitor, we will take part in every scam.

And when people like this will grow taller to support their country, they'll reach the front page for taking birbes. They'll make the breaking news for turning into a criminal cop. Who will we blame then? Will we curse the system?

I've come to notice that everyone just absorbs all text in a book, no matter included. There is no questioning the book, and be it a typo, then that mistake shall also be learned, and it will stay the way it is. What we want is passing marks, just give 'em to us!

And we stand tall, as we prepare for the future collapse...

The good, the bad, and the news

The bold, black letters on a seemingly black background always manage to get the better of my attention. And now, it's like those letters were old rivals...

I open the newspaper every morning to find some sort of grim news. Someone is killed - a murder, a suicide, an accident. Someone is molested, someone raped, and another is kidnapped.
It's like we've become part of a morbid society, where those high intellectuals are busy wondering "Where our country is going".

After reading a recent story, "Why is everyone killing?" is the first big Q that strikes me. It appears that greed has surpassed all emotions, and those who once loved have become the main source of pain. It appears that money is all that they want, and they are so desperate that they would kill for it, but never dare work up to a life of pride.

Now, would that money be of any use? Every time you'd want to spend a penny of the heap you stole, you'd be reminded of how you've strangled your own soul. And when you flip to the side of honest work, you'll at least be happy and content for what you have, even if it isn't a heavy amount.

And it's not that often that you actually find some good news. But sometimes though, we are able to bust those corrupt officials, and they manage to reach the front page. And some other times, the front page is lined up with a hoaxy sex scandal, a.k.a. 'The new age Sting operation'.

And not to forget those wonderful ads we've been seeing. Placed quietly amidst the words of an article, they want you to "Buy me". No change in story there, it's always a girl in a mini-skirt, who wants you to buy something completely irrlevant to her.
So you see people? We must completely ban smoking on screen, but all other explicit content always sums up to PG.

It's the second day of the new year, and someone is killed at the corner of a road. The second day, and a faked, perverted, sick MMS being circulated. The second day, and I'm lost in a puddle of thought, thinking about where we'll reach in the rest of the 300-something days.