Pistol in an encountered Radiologist's hands. Are you happy, Raj?

Rang de basanti and Wednesday were more than mere bollywood movies. They actually hit the much needed spark in some of the non-eunuchs of our society. Guided or misguided, they rose, and tried to change something. Were the successful? No.

Imagine this. Rahul, a boy next door of Patna is an average youth. He gets a diploma in Radiology, and one fine day, goes to a big city called Mumbai for a walk in interview. And 22 days later, is encountered by the Mumbai Police for supposedly threatening the life of a number of bus passengers, shouting "Jai Bihar, Jai Patna", also being alleged that he was gonna kill some bigshot guy called Raj Thakeray.

Sounds feasible? Yeah, Biharis are unpredictable. Back in Bihar, they play with rifles and pistols like toys, you know.
Okay, lemme make something clearer here. This Rahul belonged to a typical middle class family, with no political connections and no criminal history.
They called him the 'Prince' of the mohalla for his subtle and gentle nature.

Still sounds feasible? Okay, let's suppose that this actually happened, which it did, actually. Now the big question is,
"WHY??"
What forced Rahul to become a mass life threatening gunman?
What forces a youth to take a revolver in the pen holding hand?
Revenge.

Now, what sort of revenge did Rahul want to take?
Revenge to the INSULT of hundreds of Biharis in their own country. Maharashtra (literally, the great land), can not tolerate the Bihari people occupying their job positions. 'THEIR' job postions.

Wtf, dude.


If I am an unemployed guy, I would definitely want to work. Work anywhere in my country. Who the hell are you to stop me from workin in this part of India or that part. I have a constitutional right to move, settle and work in any normal part (by normal, I mean not ethnically preserved) of my country.
So, shut the fuck up, and mind your business. And lemme give the interview and lemme get the job and lemme feed my family. I might not be as rich andd powerful as you, and i don't aspire to be one. But I want to live, and I have to work in order to live.
And I don't need no passport or any fuckin permission from any political freak.



May be this was the message that Rahul Raj wanted to give to Raj Thakeray. All he was trying to do was to get some media attention, so that the meek voice of a common man reaches the power zones.

And what he got were two bullets in his head, and two bullets in his chest.

Readers of this post, think.
And comment what you feel.



Alok Kumar,
IIT Kharagpur.

Love.

Didn't know what love means. Don't know the meaning still. Wikipedia says...

'As an abstract concept love usually refers to a strong, ineffable feeling towards another person. Even this limited conception of love, however, encompasses a wealth of different feelings, from the passionate desire and intimacy of romantic love to the nonsexual.'

But this definition is crap. Coz it sounds more like that for an infatuation.

Was I in love?
Or infatuation?
Or a mere feeling of opposite gender attraction.
I dunno.
But surely would love to know. No, would like to know.
We should not use words whose meanings we don't know. Its like deceiving the listener/reader.

Anyways, I wonder. I wonder what makes a person like a person, who also likes the former, but still they can't be together, just because serious commitments freak off the second person.
There has to be some bottleneck in this theory.

What is a serious commitment? Don't we like to have someone who cares about us to be around us? At least, I would like to have someone who cares about me. Coz' that would make my life a lil easier.

And I believe man does every thing in this world to make his life easier.

Anyways, I learnt about human relations a lot in the last few days. And that has made me all the more confused now. I think I would be researching on this after I get out from this place. IITs are bad places. They either suck the brain out of you or overstuff the brain with useless information. In any case, the end is a compromise.

Okay, now I know what a hangover is. But this hangover will take sometime to be done away with. Just another peaceful sleep won't do anything to it.

I have got no one to blame. It was me who chose this path for myself.
And I never regret.



Alok Kumar
27 Sept. 2008

Too many cooks... spoil not only the broth, but kill the spirit, too.

Group Work. Ha! Lemme tell you something at the first place, its a very tough thing. At least for me. The clash of attitudes, the hurting of egos, the ghost of leadership, the misuderstandings... sheesh man! It sucks... And worst comes to worst when the aim is to 'DESIGN' something...

And i write this post after the two group works I was recently involved in. Number one, an architectural project, in which we had to design something. Its very difficult to make someone else to believe that my design is better than his. Why should he listen to me in the first place? He also has got brains. Why shouldn't I listen to his crap ? (Yeah, I know. The same attitude that makes me call his design a crap, gives him the power to call my design a shit.) Its like a two way road.
But we all came to a solution (not the best one, but you see, a design can never be the best.)

How could we design something common? Because we all had the same level of knowledge and same level of power of Veto in the group.

Now consider the other 'group event'. This time I had to design something for a society where I was supposedly the design head, and three guys were working under me. We came with a solution, and when everything was finalised and the design was just going to get printed, one by one, all the photoshop layman people of the society started to bring their own design ideas to it. I try to please one guy and then the other starts crying about the overall attraction.
As if I don't have any design sense, and I must listen to what they say, and dance to their tunes by changing the background to black or brown or red or grey...

And add to that the fact tht most of them have not much idea about Photoshop, or at least, how a design is made on a computer.
So, leaving aside my sense of respect for my design, I incorporated some major issues of conflict in the design and tried to please some people. And when I showed the new and 'modified' design to the team again, some new problems started to bliss me from new mouths.

What crap man!

My opinion? Designing is a personal thing. Or at least, the user group should be highly defined, as in case of a well defined client. If the client says yes, then yes, its done. It should not be like that there are 8-9 clients, raising their objections one by one, not aggreing on each other's opinions and expecting the designer to dance on their tune.

And that's why , I shelved the entire project. Respect my sense of Design, or spare my soul from getting irritated by your distorted sense of designing and handling a group project.


Alok.
Sept. 14, 2008

Hairstyle Matters!!!

Couldn't find a better analogy for the change in my hairstyle. And for those of you who didnt have the privilege to witness the change, well, see it yourself!!!

















People ask me why. Frankly speakin', I dunno. I loved my long straight hairstyle, and then I got it trimmed to the smallest ever in my life... giving even the NCC cadets a sense of challenge. Sometimes I do search for the reason. The only satisfying answer being a crave for change.
It doesn't matter whether it's for the better or the worse, but a change should be there; for a costant lifestyle graph irritates me, and for that matter, every sane guy, I suppose. We crave for something new (most often, for something better), but sometimes the urge to change takes over every sense of judgment.

And then the almost Bald me surfaces. Lol. I sound very desperate about long hairs. Dude, I actually am. And moreover, I hate the constant P.S.Is' I have started to face after sporting this trimmed hairstyle.

Par peace hai. Wo kehte hain na... " Ghar ki kheti..." Lol...


Alec.

P.S. - P.S.I = Pehchan ne se Inkar (for the Non Kgpian fans of mine... :D)

Why I find this Place Awesome #2

Yeah, the series continues... Last week I got my first Stipend. The white envelope was heavy, not because of the notes in it, but because It was MY first income... or it SEEMED to be heavy to me. Anyways, First Salary (oops, sorry, First Stipend) is invaluable to any ambitious guy.
And the four 1000 rupee notes are gonna be preserved by me. A modest start, I know, but worth preserving, wassay ??

Hmmm, returning back to the topic, why do I call this place Awesome.
Pondicherry is a great place to freak out on the weekends. Work a lot during weekdays, and njoy the party in Pondicherry on the weekends wid friends and the Beach drive. And add to tht the fun of biking around on Passion. This IS Awesome. Isn't it ? (Provided the fact tht we are not allowed to use Powered vehicles (read, Bikes) back in IIT ).

And along is attached one of my snaps wid the bike and the Matri Mandir in the background. I love this pic, coz it so summarizes my stay in Auroville.

Have got two more weeks left. Am planning to visit Chennai on the next weekend. This thursday, the boss is taking us to Yelagiri, a Site near Bangalore. Must be fun, I guess.

And after tht, I wud be going to Praddy's place in Bangalore. Have got a hell lotta fun in stock for myself in the coming days.
Let's see...


Alec.

Why I find this place Awesome. #1

And one fine day, She asked me, what are you gonna do for ur training... I mean, where are u gonna go? And I was speechless. I didn't know that I was supposed to go anywhere in the vacations... Vacations meant no work, right ?

But I came back to my room early, and sent a cover letter for internship to some 20 to 30 architectural firms, knowing it perfectly that I was gonna go to Patna, my hometown, and if possible, get a training there only. After about half an hour, I forgot everything about the mails.

And next day, I got a mail from Shama, inviting me for a 2 months training in her firm, in Auroville, next to Pondicherry. Apparently, my googlepages webspace seemed interesting to her.

I thought, Dude, I am not gonna go to Pondicherry, Its simply too far.

And typing these words in my office in Auroville, (6 km from Pondicherry), I can now realise how dumb my first impression about this place was. This place is Awesome, and I mean every letter of it.

The best part of it all ? Internationalism. My ex roomie was a French fellow, Damien. He went away wid his girlfriend, who is a german girl. My new room mate is a Spanish fellow. My crush here is a French girl, and my best friends include two american guys, a dutch girl, an Irish girl, a girl from America, three indians and one Austrian old man.

Life is so easy goin out here. I hv got a Passion Bike on rent, and enjoying the mud roads of Auroville in Style. Talk about friends, beaches, eating out, bikes, guest houses, office, work, Stipend.... and so on. And you would end up talkin about my life here in Auroville. People are simple, the economy is simple and the needs are Simple. And I thought Auroville was a religious place, stinking wid spiritualism and meditation and stuff like tht.
No, Its about being happy, and about being carefree.

Everyday I do around 50 push ups, eat 2 eggs in the morning, reach my office, work till 6 in the evening, and then go to the multimedia center for the free movie...
And in the last few days, I have seen some of the best movies and documentaries of my life in tht air conditioned auditorium. Small and beautiful. Both the documentaries, and the Auditorium itself.

I think my lunch time is over. I know its a bad ending to a blog post, but well, hvta work, buddy.
Will talk about other stuff in the next post of this series.

Alec.

And tht's how it ended.

Yeah, i knew it was gonna happen. I knew i was gonna loose her someday. But had never expected the doomed day to be this near. But that's how the world goes, i guess...
Kiki. Thats what i used to call her. Kiki - the cat. Kiki - my cat. And she was so cute. In the last post, i did mention that she was a strange cat, having literally no fear of any human being.
I never liked cats before her; and will never like dogs after her, i guess.

This blog is dedicated to some of the good memories of me and my cat. She was a real opportunistic kinda animal. (Does that ring a bell? Well, in my mind, it does.) She had mugged up the mess timings, i suppose. Go to eat, and you are sure to find her.At least i did, especially on the days when they served Fish. She had developed this habit of mewing loudly whenever she was hungry. Mny times i gave her a large part of my share of fish. And she ate that in no time. And after i wud finish feeding her, she would move away from me like she never knew me. (Again rings a bell. Dude, is my head a bell tower or what ? :P)

Every week i used to lift her up, and take her below a tap in the bathroom. You must have heard that cats fear water. I hereby, certify this. She used to twist and turn like hell, but man, i, with my strong arms and indomitable spirit, did not let her go, till she was completely drenched... And after that, i lay her down, and she used to lick her whole body and her white fur glistened like snow, thanks to me, :P.

But her best feature was her set of beautiful eyes. The light brown pupil wid a green lining at the outside. I just could not help myself from offering her a piece of my fish, when she looked up to me and mewed...

And on tht unfateful day, when she lay before me on the mess roof, all dead, i still could appreciate her cuteness and her beauty. The fur was still glistening, and the body had neither shrunken nor rotten... I could see her eyes too, they were as shiny as ever. I seemed that the parting of soul had happened not long ago. A few hours, i guess.

And i swear i felt very strange when i saw her dead. I felt like lifting her up and fondling her. I felt like feeding her. I felt like taking her to the bathroom, and drenching her, I felt like tying my bunch of keys to a string and hang it in front of her so that she might play with it. You know, cats love to play wid things hanging from a string... I felt like letting her sleep on my lap while i mugged up the book of Financial Management... like she always did.

Death is a strange thing, i tell you. It leaves everything stoned. This was the first time when someone whom i loved, died in front of me. (Yeah, tht's true. I never lost to death anyone whom i loved, before she died.) There she was. All still. And i could not believe she was dead.
But I guess, i had to.

Some people say, i make a lot of fuss for nothing. After all, she was only a cat. A cat in a hall of residence. And hence, i should not brood over things.

But she was not just any cat. She was THE cat. My first Pet. And i have some very good memories associated with her. Isn't it weird that I got attached with a cat to this degree within two months???

Lastly, on an optimistic note, They say that a cat has got nine lives.(At least the Eveready Battery's Logo says that!!).
So, Kiki, you still have got eight lives. Nevermind. We'll meet someday. And yes, thanks, for giving me some of my best moments till date, with a 'non-human' animal.



Alec.

A CAT story.

It was 1:35 already, and I was late for the 1:30 class. Totally engrossed in trying to chain up my bicycle as quickly as possible, i didn't notice when she appeared from virtually nowhere, and said, this is for you. I saw a bag being offered to me, and shining inside the little chain slit of the grey bag were two little but shiny eyes. And this was the first time when i saw her.It was the Valentine's Day.Hence, she was my Valentine day gift!

And then the emotional threads started to entangle me. I have always feared cats. I remember my childhood days, when I used to throw my lil slippers at the cats which came to drink the milk in the kitchen, but secretly feared that they might attack and scratch me. I loved dogs... but cats? A big no, for they were wild and dangerous, or they seemed so.

Until i met this cat. A kitten to be precise. Male or female, i don't know, coz its having a lot of fur, and as its a kid, its really difficult to tell its gender by lookin at it. And moreover, that doesn't make any difference, at least to me. And just to give the benefit of doubt to the batsman, i have assumed it to be 'her'. Though it actually depends on the mood, like-
" मेरा billa कहाँ गया???"
or
"आजा मेरी billi" !!!

The cat is very cute, and does not fear the humans. In fact, it has grown a tendency to come into my room and sleep on my lap. And when i try to put it on ground, it either comes back to my lap or gets out of the room to find any other admirer of the hostel wing, or the hostel wings... People love her, and she being the only cat in the entire hostel, enjoys the privilege of enjoying undivided monopoly of cat fancy of the IITians, who are really frustrated with the mundane KGP life.
What does she eat? Very very specific things. Give her bread or any biscuits or flavoured milk, she won't even look at it. The milk should be flavour less, the biscuit should be salty, and you have to show her where the stuff has been kept. Lazy? nah, see her playing wid a stray polythene bag, a torn paper or hunting wasps and cockroaches and spiders; u'll find out why the tiger is said to belong to the cat family, and not the vice versa.
Does she bite? No. Does she scratch? Well, tease her and she will. After all, she's only an animal. But the irony is that the girl who "gave away" that cat to me herself was bitten by a cat only recently, and still now, she is going to the doctor for getting the series of Rabies injections. But fear not, this cat doesn't bite.

Is she clean? You bet! i give her a bath on every saturday, and she is actually cleaner than most of the boys of this hostel, for she licks her body parts everyday, and her fur shines brightly in daylight, though, in the night the eyes steal the show!

Weeks have passed since i took the responsibility of her. Only last thursday, i was studying on my bed, lying on my belly, engrossed deep in the structural analysis problems; she came fro m nowhere and comforted herself by sleeping beside me, just beneath my Shirt, so close that i could feel her heart beat. I was frightened; for she was a cat, and she might do me harm. But then I saw her. She was sleeping like an innocent child, with both of her paws covering her face and her body curled under my blanket.
I saw the peace of a child in the arms of its mother. I felt strange. Really strange. Allowing her to sleep there, i continued to study. About two hours later, she woke up, yawned and got off the bed to walk in the hostel wing.

Sometimes i feel that i am wasting my time on all this. But then i see the face of the cat. And i feel its soft fur; and all this fills me up with a sense of joy. It seems that i am trying to find my family love in the cat... the family where i was taken care of in the same way as i use to care for this cat.

They say that cats tend to remember their places, and not masters, unlike the dogs. But I don't care. As long as I am happy.
Are my roomies happy, well, they seem to be, after some initial aversions... Are my hostelmates happy? Yes, they got a new toy to play with. Is the cat happy? I seriously have got no clue. But i give the benefit of doubt to the batsman, as an optimist like me would always do.


Alec.

Confessions by a weak soul…..

What color is your soul? Sorry, perhaps I am not the appropriate person to be asked such questions…. Why? Simply because…… oops! I miss a soul!!! I don’t have any or might be, it is too fragile, glass like transparent – easy for anyone to see through and delicate enough for a harsh truth to smash into pieces. There are possibilities that my soul is black. A shade which is no color, just neutral. It makes us realize how light a color is before the charcoal and graphite color….. A color that absorbs all wavelengths but reflects none. There have been several influential books that I have read, countless inspirational thoughts that have traveled through my neurons and have been absorbed into the brain but, have rarely surfaced my persona. Why I could never show signs of human enthusiasm and zeal, is a big question mark. And, what havoc it can call upon when cowardice meets a series of sheer bad luck? …Nothing more than a fateful Friday as today.

Act I: Scene 1: Hostel room: The day begins with a self realization that a trifle assignment has been sidelined for about a week and today is the date of submission. It being a trivial problem, major challenge says that I have to take a bath in this chilling winter morning and still manage to complete my task. Now, I poke one finger out, weigh the cold environment and force myself to make it to the switch board. The net connection wire has turned loose and doesn’t fit into the port and I have to hold it tight. As soon as I enter the password, my alarm clock screams and the display message on monitor reads, “ Its 6 AM.You cant log-in. Its not your time-slot”…..quite a mesmerizing day.. isn’t it?

Act II : Scene 1: College library- Our machinery classes are taking place (so to say….) with no faculty around. Its like a herd of cattle in a paddy field. The library sickness is taking its toll on me and I feel like throwing up. I award myself with a break, gift a cup of coffee to my hands ….aahaa...what a relief… however, the next moment, I am found throwing a cup full of coffee in the dustbin and rushing upstairs. Faculty is already there with a cunning smile on her face which gradually changes into serenity as she finds her sadistic pleasure in marking me absent for the session.

Act II: Scene 2: Nescafe counter- “Bhaiya, jaldi se ek frappe de do…. Madam, nahi hai”; “o.k. to ek iced tea de do…. Madam, khatm ho gaya”…..grreeeaaattttt….. about five minutes before, I succeeded to miss the last samosa in the canteen and the trend still continues….

Act III: Scene 1: Mobile recharge shop: I am very particular about my mobile recharges. I always get a recharge of Rs 70 which gives me a talktime of Rs 60. Its so economical. But, I cant understand what made that recharge waala guy infer that I am so fool as to get a Rs 60 recharge done which leaves me with a talktime of Rs 38 only. I want to shout… I want to scold but what difference will it make to him. He cant reverse the whole process.

Act III: Scene 2: Aggarwal’s sweets: This is my favourite eat-out. The South Indian dishes served here..specially, vadaa sambhar, dosa that too with the coconut chutney…are just yummy...(unless you eat them J). The waiter comes to take the order. I am just on the verge of losing patience. I ask him to bring vada sambhar but to my utter disappointment, they are running short of it. Now, when I am losing it completely, I dare to look into the waiter’s eyes. He is in his mid forties and doesn’t look like a waiter. At this moment, I can see my father serving in his place. I don’t like this. I can’t take it more. I cant allow him to clean my table and carry my dishes. I won’t let him do that. But, what will the other people say? Am I trying to show my respect or simply trying to impress the guy on the next table. Who am I to do so? Why should I do it? ….. “madam, here is your bill.” The dishes are gone. The table is clean. I have lost my opportunity. Thanks to my weak soul.

Epilogue: Friends, I have read a book “The Kite Runner” by Khalid Houseini. It’s about a boy Aamir who is born in a rich family and is blessed with a brave father. His heart yearns to be with his father but he can feel the chasm between him and father. His only friend is Hassan, his servant who loves Aamir more than he loves anything. But, Aamir, a boy of a weak character can’t gather courage to save Hassan from being a victim of sexual assault by three guys. It’s a curse to be born with a weak soul and even if it is so…. One must never forget….

“There is one thing one has to have: either a soul that is cheerful by nature, or a soul made cheerful by work, love, art, and knowledge.”

Curtain down

And people say i am self obsessed...

"You know what, you are pretty much self-obsessed. You think that other people are very much interested in your life, and hence you reflect ur life's happenings in your status messages of gtalk and stuff like that.
And you don't spare even trivial things, like, today my fan is not working etc.
We mock you and your self obsession in our class. Its fun to do that. No Complaints..."

and he hung up. My friend's friend. Whom i have not even seen. And this allegation on me was not the first one. I have had a history of me being charged for being very much self obsessed, self centered, self conscious,self -selfed and stuff like that. About an year ago, one of my friends commented that i always kept explaining about my actions and my life, and anyone who remains in contact wid me for even a day, can know about me entirely...Recently one of my seniors said that she could easily know what's happening in my life by just reading my status messages of
gtalk. What more, only last week, i got a scrap on orkut, which read,
"you are very much boasting, try to be in reality."
and the writer was some 'red rose' (obviously a fake profile, or someone who doesn't wish to disclose his\her name).

And all this made me think bout the roots of all this. Are these complaints, criticisms or compliments?
Depends. From person to person. OK, let us deal this issue scientifically.

First question. What makes people think that i am "self obsessed" ?

Answer: While other ppl's status messages, internet profiles etc constitute of regular phrases like 'dnd' or 'life sucks' or 'happy new year' or other non self involving words, mine is a snapshot of my current mindframe. While other ppl's net albums have got scenic views, film star wallpapers and low resolution - pics, mine consists of many picasa rendered, high resolution pics, flaunting me and the world around me. And that makes people think that i am trying to show my pics to all and i like to tell everyone about my life.

Second Question :What irritates people to such an extent that they use scraps and calls and conversations to tell me that i AM self obsessed?

Answer: OK,lemme tell you one thing first, not many people tell me these kinds of things,but yes, 2-3 do.As for the answer to this question, well, even i don't know the reason.May be the presence of one black sheep in the herd of white sheeps on gtalk and orkut makes them feel to dosomething about it,the least being,to tell the sheep that 'thou art black'.

NOW THE BIG QUESTION: why do i keep such weird status messages and self centered pics in my profiles??? Why do i wish to tell ppl what is going in my life, who give a damn to even my existance???

AND THE BIG ANSWER:Folks, don't misinterpret me.I don't wish to throw my life on you. Some REASONS for my special gtalk messages are:

1.I am a regular diary entery making person, and even you know that a diary entry revolves round the person who writes it.And needless to say,my status messages and profiles are pretty much influenced by my diary entries.

2.I like to personalize things. As i spend too much time on internet surfing, so it makes me feel happy to see if my profile and status messages reflect my current thoughts.Its like standing in front of a mirror.

3.I have got nothing to hide from anyone, and i don't care if anone enters my personal life. In fact, i enjoy the invasion...

4.This is a normal development of the pshychic self centered kid, who had been surrounded by many friends in his child life, who used to be pretty much involved in his life and its developments...

5.I like to go through other people's profile and status messages on internet, and guess whats going on in their lives, so, maybe,on a sub conscious level, i leave clues to my life for the people who think like me. But yes, this is highly non intensional.

6.I hate regular machine answer type profiles and messages.I like them living and colourful, full of individualism.

7.And last but not the least, ppl, i do have a circle of some old friends, some fans and some admirers, who closely follow me and want to hear from me about my life, though not directly from the horse's mouth.


Eh, yet another long post...as if i care...

So, my dear friends, if you still feel that i am very self lovig, self obsessed, narcissist and egoistic kinda person, do meet me someday and have a hearty chat with a cup of coffee.I think u'll discover a different me, one who loves to listen to others, and talks very very less about himself.

And if this post strengthened ur view that i am self all... ha, can't help you,buddy.


But one thing is for sure, hum nahi sudhrenge... as the ever cherished

song of Bon Jovi goes...

My life is like an open highway,
as frankie said i did it my way,
I just wanna live when i'm alive.
Its MY LIFE.

अगले जनम मोहे बिटिया न कीजो

This is very close to my heart. Not that it is my story or is inspired by any movie but its d result of empathy and compassion that I feel for the topic.....

क्या अब तुमसे भी कुछ बोलूँ मैं ?

मुँह पर बंधी पट्टियां खोलूं मैं ?

जन्म लेते ही होंठ सिल दिए गए मेरे ,

किताबों का बोझ भी न उठाने दिया ।

पैरों में बंधी पायल ने घर के पार न होने दिया।

सोलहवें जन्मदिन पर साइकिल मांगी तो ,

बर्तनों का सेट थमा दिया।

जब आंखों ने झुकना सीख लिया और,

हाथों ने सीख ली मजदूरी,

बिठा दी गयी मैं पाउडर पोत बीच बाज़ार में।

कुछ न देखा मैंने, सिर्फ सुना....

हंसी, ठहाके और सवालों के बौछार ।

पिता फूले न समाते : पढ़ा लिखा सरकारी नौकर

और क्या चाहिए?

आंखों पे बेबसी कि पट्टियों ने सुनाई

हर अबला कि दास्तान,

बोली में दहेज़ के गिरते उठते दाम ।

कहाँ मैं गुड्डे गुडियों कि नज़र उतारती थी,

और आज खेल खेल में ब्याह दी गयी।

दीवार पर टंगी किसी पुरानी तस्वीर कि तरह,

उतार दी गयी ।

डोली चढ़ जिस सपनों के महल उतरी,

वह सपनों के टूटने पर ढह गया।

चुभते टुकडों कि चोट से बोझिल कदम

उठा न पायी मैं,

देहरी उस कैद की लाँघ न पायी मैं।

सर्वस्व लुटा कर भी सुख न पाया मैंने,

घर अपना लोग पराये, यही पाया मैंने।

अपने धाम की खोज में आज तुम तक आई हूँ,

भेंट के लिए और कुछ नहीं, प्राण संग लायी हूँ।

न मैं सरस्वती, न चंडिका, न लक्ष्मी का अवतार

मैं हूँ केवल एक स्त्री जिसने किया संसार का विस्तार।

हर नारी पर अब इतनी कृपा कर दीजो

अगले जनम मोहे बिटिया न कीजो।

Headache of my headless soul.

I am frustrated right now. Dunno why. After such a busy day full of activities, friends and fun, i am frustrated... yet another frustration.....

And a blog is born.

Emotional fools... this is my genre... Whom do you call an emotional fool? A Crying moron ?

Kind of. Slight modification is needed. A person who allows other people to make him a moron, by letting them play with his emotions.

Why do i let myself get so much influenced by others' feelings about me? And many times, I first think what the person would be thinking about me, and then i become happy or sad (hehe, mostly sad) by thinking about the thoughts that are supposed to be thought by the person beside me, but actually thought by myself, while the 'so-thought' thinker might not be thinking at all about me, leave alone the correctness of it ....

Ironical? Yes, that is a big characteristics of an emotional fool. To ride on mood swings due to his own thoughts, thought on behalf of others...

My head is aching a lot. And it couldn't produce a more boring post... who knows....
Waise why am i frustrated? Because for me, every thing has become so short lived....happiness...excitement...joy... sorrow... and even frustration...

I am going to sleep. May be there I'll find peace. But hell, that would be short lived, too.
Am I striving for eternal peace? Naaaa...... i am not interested in worthless spiritual preachings on moksha and nirvana and all... those are for those people who are fed up with life... I am not.

Its getting worse. the headache, i mean. I was very happy today. Very jolly. And then i saw someone. Someone Special. And my heart began to beat faster. And i thought what that person would be thinking about me... and then i found something hurting my heart... and then i came back to my room... and then i listened to some music...and then i felt headache slowly creeping in my soul. And then i felt to write.

But it didn't help. The headache has started to meta morph into a soul ache.
I fear myself. I fear solitude. Me.... one who used to sit beside a table and study all alone for more than 12 hours a day during my jee prep days...I can't sit alone for more than 2 minutes. Have become a suicidal extrovert. Always need someone to console myself about my actions...always need someone to explain myself, to justify myself. Am I lookin for a partner? Have got many friends. And they do help. But not to a large extent.
I want that special person not to think bad about me. No, I want myself not to think that that special person thinks bad about me. But i can't control my own thoughts. They seem to overpower me. And i need someone to help me out... of all this headache...this soulache...

I am going to play my guitar. Maybe that will help me. Maybe that will force my brain not to think.

Wait. What am i writing? All this is bullshit. I am confused about my own thoughts, and i should better stop writing now. Someone make me feel happy, someone talk to me. Someone let me reassure myself that I am a normal person.

Yet another characteristics of an emotional fool.He needs other people to reassure himself... like me...
frustration.... headache... soulache... emotional fools...short lived emotions...suicidal extrovert...moksha... nirvana... spiritual bullshit... what an incongruent post!!!

The headache of my headless soul continues...


Alec.