Vita e bella

BOY! Who would have thought that 41 hours before the Boards, I would be sitting here, typing into my own doom.
I am really excited. How I want that clock to turn over these useless 41 hours.
This day, next month, I would be in some cinema-hall, booing Mohanlal's antics. I have been thinking on the things I have to do after the you-know-what.
Gotto study guitar
Gotto go to Waterworks every morning,
Live on Medical College ground,
Once-in-a-while enter home,
Watch Ganguly hit centuries against Bermudians and Scottish ( they say some can roll their arms over these days),
Cycle to beach every evening with pals
Films, parties, living in friend's houses, freaking out with bro when he comes...er...if he comes, that is. Do they get cheap MP3 players in Goa ? Hmm.... need a playstation or two.
Oh Me God. Half an hour gone. Ney, I am not tensed, am I ?
Been wandering pointlessly for the past almost-16 years now. It was a thoroughly heartwarming and emotionally enduring experience. A special vote of thanks to those who decided to put down their knives and revolvers n let me on.
So, this is it, then. Finally, I reach the cross-roads. There is the road less travelled by and the oft one. Either I study or I don't. Either I suffer or I don't.
I am not ready to suffer and am not ready to study. Day after tommorow, here I come.
By the by, I like banana peels.

Confession of a schizophrenic

Rewinding to the instances where I went wrong,
I realize where I went wrong
The wrong foot and the wrong glance
I shook the wrong pair of hands
Flirted with danger till it fell in love with me
God pulled my leg, Satan saw it fit
Life is, was and will be what it ever was
What it ever was, beats me

I took comfort for granted
Constant change deceived me

I cried out loud, shouted into the night
to take me away from the mess

I have changed myself into a shadow
of mankind; that found woes in every pain
I have things to do; but I can't
I am in an eternal dream called life
A dream that kills me, inspires me
A dream that tells me of after-life

I am confused,
I am pathetic

Crudest thoughts conquer me
I am reminded of my own lines
" I am dead but life is beautiful"
I waited for it to make sense
It eluded, my own creation.

Why am I still here ?
Why ?
Life, I guess.

Devil is no competition

Give me Satan, I want to hug him
Give me God, I want to kiss him
Give me a slap, I want to wake up

Devil is no competition for us
God is no fear for us

Give me a Benz E class,
Give me a beautiful lass
Give me all that you want to

Why make me wish? I am fed up -
of you giving me all that I want
For once turn your head
away from me and live on
Oh! whom did I address ?
Satan or God ?


;)

Aged calendars grow yellow, brown and die. New ones replace them.
Life peeps through those square blocks, never giving everything, but enough to hop from one square to other.
I tried to hop back to the square I came from, but found it improbable.
There seemed only one thing for me to do, jump forward.
I stand, sometimes, on the boundary between the squares wondering whether there is anything worthwhile in the next blocks. Then, a tide cascades over me, I drown and when I get up I am so far away that I can't see where I had been.
One day, they removed the calendar. No ruffling papers, no moth-eaten squares, no boundaries. I was helpless. They took my life away. Behind, there was nothing. Ahead, more so. I tried walking but didn't know if I moved at all.
There was no point crying for there was no point in being pointless about being pointless. What was left with me was a tuned brain accustomed to the square blocks and a little bit of wit unaccustomed to the tuned brain.
These 2 merged.
A new vision enveloped.
Doors. Open it, you get another one. I know everytime I push the handle that I am going to see a replica of the same door. But everytime the door knob clicks, there is a rise and fall of the chest which enlivens me.
I was the creator of the pattern. If there is anybody who could change it, it is me. As if I bother to....

Runaway theory.

Insults and angry voices drive
Sanity to the edge and beyond

I feel decoration on top of condolences
Lessons that you taught were never true

Another wave of tension has filled me up
I want to know the answers, no more lies

But they give me what I really want
Keeping me once more, one more breath

Broken walls of trust hang in the air
I stand on top of the debris
Smiling with full confidence

The devil inside lurks
lashing a glance at my mirror
And now, you've become a part of me
I know, you were always here

Sometimes I have a memory
Of what you are changing me into
Sometimes I trust you with life
I pretend that you don't exist
Somehow I want to know who you want me to be
I let go watching you, I can't fail

On a notepad in dim light.

Her voice trailed off. The last of her words faintly echoing in my ears. The world has returned to a standstill. Silence creepily envelopes the light. This time, I am alone.
It was not a writer's block that had settled in my eye but a delusion that my imagination is failing me. In the end I am the only companion I turn to. Sweat of passion trickles down my brow. The fire exists.
I have things to lose but balanced against those to gain. I am moving forth not caring to glance behind for I know my heart is weak.
I see dust coming off from my exterior. I stand bare, the true me, against all well-wishers and back prodders. There is only so much a friend can do for you but eventually you are the one to jump off the cliff.
Parallels between life and films have a line between them. In films, you know who you are as but in life, you don't. She is the only thing that separates me and the board exam. I have a choice. Everybody has. There is only one board exam but many more shes'. I am choosing the latter.
A slip between the cup and the lip?
Who cares.

I was trying to study

When I turned around, there was nothing. All the excitement was just a mirage of my own dreams.
Torn leaves kept fluttering under my feet, waiting for me to let go.
I ruffled my hair in the stupidity of those dreams. What was left with me was a textbook that gave me unending woes. I entered it...... But this time, with a smile.

aankhein teri , kitni haseen
ki inkaa aashiq, mein ban gayaa hoon
mujhako basaa le, inme tu

mujhase yeh har ghadi, meraa dil kahe
tum hi ho usaki aarzoo
mujhase yeh har ghadi, mere lab kahe
teri hi ho sab guftagoo
baatein teri itni haseen, main yaad inko jab kartaa hoon
phoolon si aaye, khushaboo

rakh loon chhupaa ke main kahin tujhako
saayaa bhi teraa naa main doon
rakh loon banaa ke kahin ghar, main tujhe
saath tere, main hi rahoon
julfen teri, itni ghani
dekh ke inako, yeh sochataa hoon
saaye me, inake main jiyoon

Life never made sense. The moments that didn't make the most....was the best. There was no point in me telling these things to the science text. What it told me was all about mechanical energy getting converted into electrical. In life, who cares whether they get converted into anything watsoeva, excepting about 3/4th population in the world.

If it was a thing I thronged for, I would have not ruffled my hair. Indeed, it was a thing. A thing called heart. I wanted it badly. From the time my hormones started functionally normally, I wanted it.

Oneday, the dream flew off with wings. It was a dream no more. Yet I had dreamt it.

There is no music. There is no sense of purpose. There is no silence. What there is, is me and the keyboard. The state of permanent elation that had settled around me for the past six months ceases to exist. Back to the brooding self. The primary objective had faded off into darkness unseen. I don't care to go back to pull it back into blinding sunlight. There is no secondary objective.
Purposelessness of my existence nags my innermost feelings. My feelings itself seem flat and dead. A sense of immense despair. Everything I am seeing seems to have happened before. Somewhere, some other time. What I am is but a bit of what I say by saying " I am". I don't want to talk sense. Hatred ? or is it that? What do you call hatred ? Why hatred ? Why not ? Yeah! Why not? Why do I hate when I feel that I am in despair? Why do I think that I am in despair ? Why should I be? Yes, there are reasons. But are they sufficient to prove that I am in despair? Why prove? Why not? Why am I trying to get back to being joyous? What is the point? Why should I be happy ? Yeah, Why the HELL? What reason do I have to be either happy or sad? Or why can't I be feeling both?
Guts................................................ look eye to eye, what do I have to lose ? Yes. What??
Nothing. Simply nothing.

Knock knock

Who's there?

Reality

Oh! you again..

(shuts)

" To top it off I was mad even before I wrote this"

An extract :
Life was pretty much boring till I found that life was pretty much boring.

The moment I found it out could have changed my life or, rather, could have ended it.

I was not dead. It was only a mere possibility of what could have been.

The driver stuck out his head in considerable anger.

" Evida nokkiyaade ottikana"

These words had a warming effect on my cheeks.

The roads reminded me of day-five test match pitches in India. Kumble would have jumped in ecstasy at the sight of tracks like this. But not my Glider.
The cycle moved on, perpendicular to my thoughts. Fort Bakers neared me with utmost sympathy.
***************

One of the things that attracts me to Government Model Boys high school is the way in which the sun always seems to set above the main building.
I pondered for sometime, in its premises, about life and everything else in it. My thought had struck a new line.

Life is not about geometry, gravitation or geography. Rather, it is about everything else other than those.

The fact that my shadows stretched reminded me of the reception I would be getting on getting back home.
But still, philosophical thoughts can't be stopped in the middle.

I couldn't lie on those grasses. Civilisation didn't permit me to. If somebody would have struck up a pleasant tone on the guitar, it would have perfectly conveyed my being.

I was fighting with myself. It was about what I wanted to be and what I was.
I was having a difficulty finding out the real myself in the midst of all this. That was when I reminded myself that I was me and not what I was taking myself for.The funny part was that I was not taking myself for anything.....which meant that I was everything other than anything.

There were a hundred other houses beside me. Little kiddos were hanging out in the balconies along with big kiddos, old hags were basking in the dark, stray dogs were staying in the roads. I lend my eyes a glimpse of the sky.
"How would your life be if you had a female company at the moment?" I asked myself.
" Bad. Infact, Very bad. Half the time I wouldn't be able to think. The rest half would keep reminding me to think" the second personality that I hid in the cerebrum voiced to the first.

I hate going back to home. With the possible exception of a shower, there was nothing exciting to do.
Still, civilisation popped its ugly head again.
****************
There was a particular tune to which the alarm struck.

" Humpty Dumpty had a kiddo up his sleeve.
It was then he realised he was on leave"

The point is, it didn't.

I don't know why I do it. It is instinctive. It had always made my father to wince. I screeched out "Shiiit"

Our van's students are accustomed to seeing me running half-dressed,though.

"Ek mein aur ek tuu hain" ran through the stereo. Mahesh had recorded it specifically to my wish. The small kiddos danced with their mouths making as much sense as a dolphin wouldn't make if it would have heard it.

Arya Central School was the place where I was destined to go. A place which I had been seeing for the past 11 years. I don't know when I fell in love with the place. It might have been when I was thrashed by my mates outta my stocks or when I had to pull up a rather pretty-looking junior when she fell off or when all the english teachers took up a resolution that they wouldn't award me with anything less than the first or when I found that you could sleep in Deepthi teacher's (chem) classes and escape unnoticed or when I greeted Rekha teacher the first time, an innocent 'gud morn teacher' to which she replied " The News reader is absent. Go n fetch the paper frm the office n go n say something in the assembly"
The undeniable fact is that the place rewarded me with a whole lotta emotions, to cherish for a life time.

8:25 sees our van parked on the imaginary parking-lot. Usually, the time also sees the arrival of Kiran's van. These days the coincident timing of the vans are proving to make life a helluva time for me. The point is that most of the guys are envious of the fact that I don't woo behind a single gal. Inorder to 'de' my worth, all of em have started the tendency to make fun of me with ..blah blah. You know wat. The pitiable part is that the whole lotta guys have started to poke me on the back with her name.

If I haven't forgotten my history note or my record, I would be in the drawling assembly. Else, in the autorickshaw.

The classes are quite interesting. Half the time I would be sleeping with my eyes open. The other half, with my eyes closed.

**********************