State-of-the-art

The obvious thing has happened. Yet again
As we are (un)fortunately in our final year, obviously we should get the best. The session has just started and so the only thing i can mention here is the accommodation we got.

The first thing to be noticed here people is that it is as cheap as dirt. rs23500(not to mention the rs50 we had to spend for the magnum opus), for our palatial buildings and suites! What could a person in his lifetime wish for more.

Talking of palaces, our hostels are no less than what the mughals achieved. Supplement it with the state of the art technology used to build it(NASA take notice), and you get the architectural wonder called HOSTEL-6 SARDAR BHAVAN(i can feel Sardar patel smiling.)
State of the art, the word tossed around without proper care. But nothing describes our hostel better. There are so so many things to marvel at, so many things to inspire you.

Starting with the main gate, built in such a way that even Einstein won't be able to figure out if that is indeed a gate. The authorities have taken proper care to build the front and back entrances at strategic places. The only thing is that they have managed to confuse generations of svnitians about which is the front and which the back.

The sprawling gardens and the lawns are another addition to awe you. Lush green grass, hearty birds, and magnificent creatures abound the place. Some stray animals do tend to invade our rooms, but living in svnit does gives you ample knowledge about many of them.

Then comes the kingly suites we've been given. We do not insult it by calling it merely a 'room'. Made for the kings and the kings do live there. Everything inside is so beautifully natural. The natural paintings(can be termed as murals. and the suites numbered 8 have the best.), each suite has got, the subtle planning done to place the accessories, the wonderful adorations on the doors and windows. Everything is so appealing. Each suite has a balcony. And guess what, they've given a plug point even there. Yes yes, i know its just WOW. But again fooling the generations about its purpose. Must be really classified. The best part is that most of us have 24/7 water supply right inside our suites! That would be a goodbye to coolers and water room.

The bathrooms are another sight to behold. They are too grand and to even write about them would be so demeaning of me. But one thing to be noticed is the plants they've grown right inside them. To give a natural feel while attending the nature's call. Also i do have to mention the permanent supply of water at each and every nook and corner of our hostel. Stand anywhere and water will fall right into your mouth. The hostel inmates are known to forget the feeling of thirst.

Thank you hostel section, for blessing us with the best thing that could've happened to us. Salutes to you.

Unfunny me

Sorry, so unfunny of me, right??

A friend suggested that i should stop writing the serious and vaguely philosophical stuff and start writing something funny, something light.
but i'll have to give the thought a miss 1.'cos i'm way too behind with the contemporary scenario of humour. i don't want to write anything with my terribly outdated sense of humour.
2. 'cos i write what i feel; most of the times i should say. and currently i don't feel anything that is remotely funny in any way.

So, to the delight of the readers who never were, i shall continue with my thoughts and insignificant philosophical insights from the perspectives of me, god and sometimes a dog.

A Small Life

Sitting, writing funny lines

Funny, only to me

I laugh, enough

More than enough for me

And i stop.

Breathing the sodden ground,

Hearing the falling sound,

A wish born, newly found.

Walking, into the cold drizzle

Warm, only to me

I soak, enough

Until it feels a little cold

And i walk out.

Damp and wet,

My clothes hanging

And drops of water

On my body, undried

Sleep descends...

The uncommon doings,

The lingering signs,

With a smile,

Smiling on my lines.

First night of the end

back to college. heaven sweet heaven. after such a long time, remained awake till 4 in morn, and damn it did feel good. 3 months. THREE MONTHS. nothing to do, not even the want to do. so as you might've concluded , i did nothing.absolute. that would be except if you count the number of times i took the cow out for lunch. felt good talking to her though; always found a nod of understanding. picture of calmness. miss her. may god bless her too along with you all.
most of the time was "comfortably numb" (thank you floyd, for coining the best term ever). so had not so much of an idea about the time. but did feel something was wrong. someplace, somewhere. let it be.
and about being optimistic, i am not that or its antonym. i am neutral. anyways most optimists do nothing but to lie to themselves. just for the sake of it. good for them. not good enough for me.

Confession

After a visit to the family doctor and after a lot of thinking regarding my past few experiences, I've come to the conclusion that i am suffering from a kind of multiple personality disorder. My alter is "Dr. Bozbotov Khurshchshky IV". He is a doctor. Treats everything. good.

Borat

please go to wikipedia and search for Borat Sagdiyev. Then read the"Fictional Character Biography'. Then watch the movie "Borat". Or vice-versa.
Warning:Rated R for pervasive strong crude and sexual content including graphic nudity, and language.

mr. murphy's excuse

About Murphy's Law: It is a statement given by Mr. Murphy, and later by a bunch of losers, to justify their actions and to save their asses when they are in deep deep Shit(with a capital S). Losers who were out chasing big black bull's shit when god was distributing luck to the mortals.

My appointment with the Maker

ok. hold your breath...


hold it for gods sake.
I WENT TO A TEMPLE TODAY.
kaboooommmm...
no no, i m not an atheist. i do believe in the Almighty; with all my tiny little heart i have. and i do go to temples, although the frequency can be neglected.
earlier i was a non-believer. thought it was cool. many people still do. then i started believing, thanks to my one and only. but still didn't like going to the temple. thought, god is everywhere right? in every tangible material, the walls, the wind; outside us, inside us. then what is the need! yes,yes, the coolness factor yet again. but then, again due to the commendable efforts from the one and only(yet again), i realised the comfort, calmness, serenity found in such places.
yes, but the point that must be noted here is that that the places should be calm in itself. i don't find any reason in going to all those crowdy places, having one minute glimpse at the deity and then being pushed around. feels more like friday night ticket counter. hustling for a glimpse of god? architectural and sculptural beauties are different story altogheter. and secondly, a big No to all those bathroom tiled temples thrown around like Christmas toffees. commercial worship should explain the phenomenon.
another point worth noticing here is that, in case of crowded temples, you may dislike the bustle and wait; but whenever, after a certain wait, you actually get your official chance to pray in front of the idol, you never get enough of it. "just a little bit more" you think when a eager devotee right behind you exercises his right for the one-on-one. just a little...that happened to me. yet again.sigh.
May god show the light to us all.

I am 'Not Good'

Why...
The omnipresent question. Why am i bad? I know I am. what do you know huh?
i guess(that's all i can do) its gods wish. one of the brighter sides of believing in the Almighty is that whenever anything happens that you think/wish shouldn't have happened, you can blame/leave it to him. (dear friend 'Junior', please read the last sentence ten times.Loudly.)
So, i am bad 'cos he made me that way. Not all children are innocent. Trust me. I wasn't. and I can't be gods only mistake. I tried to change(although half-heartedly). Couldn't... Don't know when i will try again.
The half-hearted attempt was 'cos somewhere i felt convenient with the fact. 'cos 1. i enjoyed more. 2. This way, there'd be very less chance that i get screwed by others. If at all i do get screwed, it'd be the after effect of my own actions. Which, I'll be more with comfortable with. 3. Still i haven't had that 'life-changing' experience that would good-ify me once and for all.
So, due to these reasons and many more that have always hindered the process of my 'soul purification', I still am bad. And will remain so in the near future. This prose will be turned into a kind of poem, if i may call it, in near future.
p.s: if there is something like afterlife, or if the theories of karma and similar things are true, then i think i have put myself in very very deep shit. so deep that and even the last statement could be called optimistic. But on second thoughts, God will save me. He will have to. After all he is the one who made me this way. And if he cant, and indeed if i have an afterlife, please put a bottle of quick acting poison alongside my grave. God bless me, and the rest.

To all

To all the unseen readers who never were…
What on heavens Mr. Nikhil…don’t you know, not a soul visits this place except for you and some of the people whom you keep nagging to come here. Who come, out of friendship, curiosity and after sometime, undisclosed pity.
Yes I know…but I got to do what I got to do. Firstly because its so satisfying. Secondly as my good friend once said “writing is IN”.
Confessing that I may shout and announce that I write only for me and I don’t care if someone is reading or not, deep down inside I wish I get a comment or two…
Someone telling their views, someone asking the meaning. I wish. So here I am writing for me…and I shall try to open what I have…. for all the readers who never were…

The Unholy Scholar

Somewhere in the distance
I heard some bells chiming
Was it eight or was it nine
I don’t know
Goodness gracious heavens
The customary thought
I am late by an hour or so…

But I still lie there
Studying the ceiling
Glancing around, shutting out the light
Thinking hard if its worth it or not
Thinking hard if I was asleep or not…
Feeling my load of indulgence
Is about to sink
All doors closed, my options
None I think…

I drift on
Half asleep and half naked
I drift on through
The labyrinths of heaven…
By the time a hungry mongrel
Eats up his morning loaf
Geared up and laden
Into the depths of certain
Uncertainty we set off…

Sitting there grazing
Like flock of sheep
Herded to bleak surrender
Facing a mountain high and steep
Sun shone fiercely
With ample light
Still it was dark…
Dark as hell in the night

Eyelids half closed
And minds fully so, we stare
At the preachers of gods
How to reach the zenith up there…
Sacred holy chants passing
Unobstructed from ear to ear
Not stirring the mind
Nothing it could hear…

Last night’s beautiful poison
Still in our bloods
Our instincts and misty minds
We have only known
Blasphemous as ever we’ve grown
Never to change, never to atone

Murdering time we sit there…
No more of it today
Bounds and walls broken
Worn and wilted, we swear
Leaving the foolish puppet
To face the wrath,
We ourselves pronounce
Our independence,
The shower of freedom
Pouring, we bathe…

After a time that felt like eternity
We set sail…
To joy wonder and serenity
Eyes wide open
Proud in our steps
Trailing the heady smoke
The water and the unknown
Blasphemous as hell we’ve grown
Never to change, never to atone…

Yes yes…I know I am a fake, a show off, a self-centered, selfish loser… The good thing (or the bad) is that I knew it all along… I truly believe it. The only problem is I just never bothered enough to change. Confessing that just MAYBE I would want the change, but also confessing that seemingly I am not able to, I can’t. Hence, the self glorifying adjective, “loser”.

Rolling Heaven

For all the kith and kin giving me company in the pursuit of heaven. To an extent, to Pink Floyd ‘cos when they sang “the grass is greener”, probably they didn’t mean it. But listening to them, it always is, it always will be. Love you all guys.



Up on the ocean, in the air
He was floating…
Forgetting the angst
True,he thought
The world does keeps spinning…

Once upon a time
In the good old days,
When the liquid ruled
And others stood by,
The boy tried burning the coal
Up with the flames
Went his expectations…
The land still barren…
But his pocket dry and broken
He swore
No more piped lunacy,ever again

Then one fine morning,
In the sea,drifting
The wind and water
Lifting him high,
Sn isle upon which he stumbled
Covered with something
Lush, muddy grass it was
His anchor fumbled…

A man with braces
Was passing by…
Said he,come boy
Its where the gods dance…
The more grass we cut together
Finer gets the warmth
And the weather

As the smoke watered his eyes
And the room became murky
The skies cleared up,
The water too…
Clear became everything,
Everything he knew…


Try it on a comatose man, said they
With gods grace.
The man’s eyes lit up
With the flames
His numb mind began to crawl
Though a little lame
Next time,his lips
Parted on their own
Said everyone,let him
Have it if he should…
The next moment, the man
Lay frozen again
Said everyone,poor thing
Took more than he could, should…

Lo behold! the stuff is blessed,said both
The boy and the braced man,
Didn’t take a break…
Just as the holy water
Embraced copiously
By the namesake…

Darker your mind is
Lesser you regret
Heavier the thing is,
Lighter you get…
Lighter you are
The more you fly,
More you fly
Less you can lie…
It’s a miracle, that god has set
Shot up in flames
And burnt to ashes
Its as merry as you can get…

Realise

He shuffled down
The last remaining steps
Getting hastily out
Of unfathomable depths…
Was too choking up there
The smell, the sight,
The lowliness, the fight…

He had dreamt
Of the peaks those days
He had heard
Myths and stories…
Seen fleeting glimpses
Of grinning teeth
And heard distant sounds
Unreal, frenetic laughter,
More or so it seemed…

And so he wanted
To reach up ahead…
Up up and above
Every waking hour
Choosing the wheels
Of that grim, harsh realization…

As the seed thrived
Into an oak tree,
The man first smelt
The killing spree…
A rose and a dagger
Everyone carried,he saw
Using them alternatively
With the falling bodies,
Their smiles did grow…
The laughter was maddening,
The silence, saddening
The grins became cacophony
How he hated
Power lust and money…

The snake turned and slithered
Up for the final blow…
It was too late
By the time he could know
He had a rose in a hand.
And blade through his chest
Truth shining bright,
His eyes darkening the rest…
Realizing everything,
He ran for his life…
Burst and gone
Was his bubble of strife…

The wound was healed,
Scarred memories stood there…
Though,dusk had broken,
Only the night remained.

One of the reoccurring themes of my so called poems is HOPE… well, where would the world be without it. Hope is everywhere; loosely hidden…too clear if looked around.
With the birth of a child, blooming of a flower, there is hope…even when spouses cheat and people fight there is hope!! It is everywhere, showing itself in some concealed way… or just waiting to be seen. When I write, I hope it is true. When you read you hope it is worth it. If not, you hope I never write again.

Whispering Echoes

The red ship
Appeared on the horizon…
Like the morning sun sneaking out
It came out, big and stout..
It steered its way through.
Leaving a trail
Its body and crew
Hearty, hosting the sail…
Without them,the ship wont move
They had a merry time
With wine and song
But it was to be there
For not so long…

after twenty days and a night less
Another ship, it came upon
Its captain, gods must bless…
For he was too good to be true,
So well, the captains got along
For their hearts were pure
And minds alike
Comrades they became
Everyone they would allure

But one morning, the redmen said,
O captain, you are good
And we love you
But those shipmen are too nice to be true
We have our reasons and we tell you this
War with them and sail away
Or we will leave this ship as it is…

The captain had nowhere to go,
The only door open was by the people
He could not lay low…
With a heavy heart,
He listened word by word
Cut every thread
With the edge of his sword…
Unable to face his comrade,
He turned his ship
Unable to face the betrayed
S tear did drip…
Their own ways, they carried on…

Not even able to explain intent
The red captain carried
The burden all along…
Swore not to befriend a captain
Whatever may go wrong …
The other captain, confused, hating
Loathing, became indifferent

Maybe if told, he may understand
Maybe not
The red ship disappeared with the burden
Like dust in the sand.

Mother’s Final Word

Dedicated to our loveliest Earth…For all the people fighting her fight…
For “go green’.



I am the water and the sand
I am the one who dwells
In the oceans and on infinite land…
I am everything
that god ever made
I am the dust, the life strand
I am the animal
Under my shade
I am everything
That you ever knew
I am everything, except you…

Together, we once were
You were me, our souls one
Now no more…
Mine bleeds,you have none

You cut me deep
You hunt me down
Making ripples in quicksand
As you drown…
You have poisoned me
Veins have clogged
The leeway you were traveling
You yourself have fogged

Lovely my skin once was
Magnificent as magnificent can be
But as you destroy everything
Everything, me, wide and profane
Stripping me naked
Nothing will be left
Only my anguish
And bloody scars remain…

Sans shores, sans clear starry skies
Sans floating isles
And all the imagination that flies
Forgetting your limits, and your role
You dig your grave
In the concrete hole…

Either you think
You thought of everything
Or you don’t heed
The future of lives you bring
Either way sympathetically foolish
Not the way I had imagined
Not the way in my dreams I’d wish…
Greedy and reckless
You want a shortcut
Finder a quicker path to the veiled end
Falling apart as you strut…

Assuming you can do anything
Defeat me, with everything you have
Forgetting that I am everything
Everything you see, you ever knew
Everything, but now, except you.

Lost…And Found.

As the sun slapped
My fate hardened face
I lay upon the naked floor,
Cold, with a naked soul…
Tides of thoughts
Hit my consciousness,
Overpowered the will I had…
Overwhelmed the strength I had…

And I shut my eyes
Held it as tight as I could
Fearing that the strength,
The remaining, would escape…
I felt down my neck,
I’d cry and fear…
Lost, maybe I would…

Then the wind,
Broke the draining silence…
Raindrops slapped my face
And as they pricked,
My skin and soul,
I opened everything
And lay awake...

I gained some will
But still trembled...
I felt wet again
Right down my neck, yet again…
It wasn’t steely cold
As the rain…
It was warm
I felt it trickle…

I was cryin
And it was the tear…
Not of the uncertainty or fear
Or of the burden
I couldn’t bear…
Although pouring,
They all had started to sear…
All ‘cos of the feeling,
That the end
Of my spirit is not near…