I walk alone

Another day dawns
and life goes on
as I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.

The trees, the rose
and the shimmering rainbow
merrily dance around
but I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.

Our paths cross
my world is rocked
violins and harps
bid me to ask
why I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.

Those eyes, that smile
& beautiful eyebrows
bountiful package, puckered lips
sexy denims, flowery whiff
and yet I walk alone
a ghost, a shadow.

Now we walk the path
barely a feet apart
I close in for the kill
but then she turns
and disarms by will
now I stalk alone
a ghost, a shadow.

I switch to plan B
and conduct a felony
stride up to her
and ask
why I stalk alone
a ghost, a shadow.

Shocked and awed
she politely denied
and now I sigh alone
a ghost, a shadow.

This piece, long lost in the multitudes of files accumulating on my (fictitious) desk, was finally rescued by a very dear friend and a fellow blogger. Hence, I thought about dedicating this one to her or something, but now I think it really does not stand upto her charisma. So I just present it here....as nothing but a random collection of words.

Life's scented bullshit

The past month of my life has been frantically topsy-turvy at best. What with all the exams and interviews and associated preparations(ya I know!) and what not, there just seemed so little time! It is only after its all over that I feel there's this big void in my life that I just can't seem to fill up with anything. I know male chauvinism demands that I be 'the man' and take it all up and basically don't be a wuss about it, but sorry, I'm just not that kinda guy! Its been what, like months and I still rue the fact that I have no girlfriend, although I must say all I did in my previous relationship can still be done with my ex without anyone batting an eyebrow. But it just seems wrong in so many weird ways that even though my ex has been so good to me, I just can't bring myself to do it. But I digress. What got me all tippy-tappy on the keyboard of my laptop was the stark contrast I found myself viciously stuck in. Maybe its the part I must play in the game of our holy Lord or whatever and am unable to see the bigger picture, but let me tell you, "Dude, it sucks!"

When I embarked upon the trip to manipal, the university town of India, I had this really awful premonition that somehow this trip is gonna sting in ways I can't even begin to prophetize. Now its a beautiful place to be and I find no logic or reason in holding back if I get an opportunity to do so. But let me tell you dear reader, the charm of the place, or at least a part of it, was lost upon me for the simple and sordid fact that I was single and alone. Oh how I longed for a single familiar face in the crowd, a long-lost friend from the past maybe, or even a friendly new one, a face friendly enough to be the foundation of a great new relationship. That there be someone in the crowd out there who, for all my shortcomings, would help me walk the same road as so many other couples right in front of me, nimbly holding hands, oblivious to the world. Alas! all my wishing and wondering apart, I was still the ('cute?') little kitten stuck all alone in the rain, purring away in the darkness. Of course the trip was a short one, but what comfort am I supposed to find in the fact that I will soon be in the company of my cell mate (that's what I call my room now) who is irrevocably love-smitten, that he is in that wonderful phase in a relationship where anything and everything not involving the better half of his life seems trivial and frivolous. Now for the record I hold nothing against him and am happy for him, possibly even over-reacting a bit, but understand dear reader that being in the same room, it is not easy to ignore someone yacking away 24x7 on his mobile with his dear one, knowing that you could have been so much happier than what you are now, if only you had kept your pie-hole clamped shut like you always did. However I hold no regrets and still maintain (as has been certified by many others) that it was the right thing to do.

Finally for all those of you wondering why, in heaven's sake, am I rambling about my life on this celluloid media, this two dimensional catacomb of sorts that I call my blog. Well, what can I say except that again it is just a cheap replacement for that special someone, with whom I would like to cuddle together in front of the small warm fire and talk about the various ups and downs that mortals call life.

Bursting with thoughts!

I've always considered myself to be a dynamic sort of person. So when the number of hours in my normal day began to stretch out in unmanageable proportions, it came as a personal shocker. Initially I was overjoyed. I started doing all those things that I wanted to do but never actually got around doing. I began to read, I started learning the guitar, even played around with gardening for a while. Time passed slowly as I hopscotched from one activity to another with the impunity of a madman. But even in this maniac frenzy, one eventually begins to acknowledge the obvious fact that there is just so much one can do with his/her time. And surely, the days loaded with activity soon gave way to days loaded with....time.

Its only then that you realize how the completely abstract notion of two hands circumnavigating twelve numbers on a surface holds you in an iron grip. You begin noticing really minor things like how the seconds hand vibrates every time it moves, or that if you concentrate carefully you can see the individual blades of the rotating fan. It is in these times when you start wishing for an unexpected exam to pop up, or your boss to call upon you for an extra shift or something, just so that you have something to do. And it was in one of these maddeningly slow time zones, when I started looking for opportunities to score, initially just to pass time, and eventually out of habit. Now I am not one of those creepy guys always rushing head over heels to get a few eye-fulls, although I must confess, I've taken my chances now and then. What I am talking about is that I minutely scrutinise my past, and to some part fantasize about the future, occasionally running into random alternate parallel universes too. I try to make a note of all the opportunities I missed, while simultaneously preparing for various fictitious scenarios as well, gauging for myself where my responses stood on a scale of say 10, and what would have been a better response.

Personally I've always thought of these moments as moments of introspection. Time when I would analyse my past and try to learn from it in hope for a better future. I must say that this line of thought gave me a certain amount of cover when my self-belief would stagger under heavy crossfire. After all, where do we stand as individuals and as a species if we altogether lose the ability to learn from our mistakes? Even the humblest of animals demonstrate this very basic quality. It is indeed, one may say, a bare necessity to ensure survival. But then again, the very essence of a species is the variety in it: The most basic game of mix and match in which nature toys with the numerous dials reading the various qualities of an individual. All that is left for me to say is that every individual is near perfect in its own way, working ever so hard towards the ultimate goal in life so aptly summarised as...'survival of the fittest'.

Will I 'eat' you?

Seriously am at a loss as to who is the more nut-job, psycho-freak of the two- the one who made this, or the ones(including me) who actually attempt it???

Take the test by clicking the picture below to find out for yourself if you would eat your buddies in a blizzard?

Anyways, breathe easy my friends! Here is my score:

26%

Until next time.


UPDATE: My roomie got a score of 45% !! So people please note, I am relatively safer to be with.

Gulp! I just realised, my roomie poses a potential threat to me!

The Stranger

I tread those once familiar dark alleys, floating like a ghost, flickering in and out of the minuscule auras of the multiple lights fighting ever so hard the long lost battle against the enveloping darkness. A battered and rather distressing magazine in my hand, its dog-eared pages occasionally catching the wind and fluttering a bit. All my senses acutely tuned to catch the slightest of whispers heralding the onset of any unexpected change in the direction of the silent wind. The magazine itself was worthless, bought at a cheap bookstore, where it had been gathering dust for the better part of a year. What did matter was the all-important piece of paper held somewhere among those tattered pages.

Almost effortlessly, my mind drifted across the line separating the past and the present, and leisurely began sifting through the memories of the week past. What I had gone through to get my hands on that piece of paper, whom I had to endure, whom I had to leave behind, the pale man with a pronounced scar across his temple, those strikingly deep eyes of the beautiful lady in black, all came back to me as if in a trance. Floating on the ethereal waves of such thoughts, my mind began singing a tune so beautiful, I started questioning the very need to leave this world for the real one. After all, who is to decide what is real and what is not?

But something was amiss. I could still feel. I could feel the air rushing through my nose, assaulting the very basic of my senses with myriad odours. I could feel my legs tramping the gravel underneath, attacking it savagely with military urgency. And beyond this, I could still feel an external presence. A surreal being urging me to come to. Unwillingly more and more of my senses started acknowledging the presence, as if drawn against their wishes and those of their master's by the enticing songs of the sirens. How can someone so gently and yet so firmly assume command of all my senses? I was baffled beyond thought, but more than that, my pride was hurt. Bracing myself, I vehemently opposed the intruder with all my will. I broke off all contacts with the real world and wanted to drift back into the beautiful abyss I was enjoying so much just a short while ago. Somehow, the stranger managed to hold on, trudging along my thoughts, even if just by the very edges of his fingernails.

Grudgingly I gave up, conceding defeat to this new kind of weaponry. My eyes swam back into focus, instantly noticing that the world had dimmed around me. The chaotic sounds of the daily life hitting me hard with one giant pop, as if I had just breached the as yet unknown sound barrier. My mind performed a cursory check, ensuring that none of my senses were left behind. And eventually I noticed the reason for my vehement and silent war, the very reason I am compelled to write this post. A smile stole across his pockmarked face, as if he was seeing the insides of my mind on a giant 70 mm screen. He waved a filthy piece of parchment in my face and gently whispered, "You dropped this". By the time I realised what had just happened, he was gone, lost in the milling crowd. Forever.