My last post was all about hatred, and how hatred is giving me the strentgh to keep myself away from a certain person, the person whom I keep referring as "my better half" in most of my posts. I have realised that I'm being very selfish and self-centred in treating my blog as my personal diary. I must write about impersonal things too. Long time I didn't write an essay! This post will be my last letter (for the time being) to that person, who is making me go insane. I need to write it all down, because I can't find someone to tell it to. It's cluttering my brain, and I need to know that I don't need to think them over and over again, because, I have them written down on my blog. A virtual memory is an eternal memory, a virus can't destroy it, like it can do to my Disk memory.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Don't Read This
My last post was all about hatred, and how hatred is giving me the strentgh to keep myself away from a certain person, the person whom I keep referring as "my better half" in most of my posts. I have realised that I'm being very selfish and self-centred in treating my blog as my personal diary. I must write about impersonal things too. Long time I didn't write an essay! This post will be my last letter (for the time being) to that person, who is making me go insane. I need to write it all down, because I can't find someone to tell it to. It's cluttering my brain, and I need to know that I don't need to think them over and over again, because, I have them written down on my blog. A virtual memory is an eternal memory, a virus can't destroy it, like it can do to my Disk memory.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Strength
I have always thought that hatred is an unacceptable sin. You should never hate a person. You can dislike certain things about a person. You can talk to him/her about it, listen to his/her justifications. If you still don't like it, try and change. If you can't change it, accept it; get used to it. That was my way. I never hated an entire person, ever in my life.
Friday, July 10, 2009
An Empty Moment Exhausted
Destiny:
Builds, breaks, shifts, re-builds.
Divinity:
Calls for justice, unheard!
A lot of things happened. A lot of coincidences. A lot of realisations, most of them were re-realisations, though! A lot of patient and persevernt actions, which I pursued without people's support, finally paid off. Paid off well, mind you! A lot of people, including, my better half, told me that I shouldn't give importance to a person who wants to shun me away; I shouldn't keep knocking on someone's door, when it's shut on my face everytime; I shouldn't keep respecting a person who always insults me like shit. But I kept trying, I kept trying, and finally, the person has yielded to me. I can't call it an achievement, I can't boast of it. This person has made me grow up, I am too indebted to complain. I'm glad, period.
I know I am never gonna be someone great. I could have been, though. But I can't be immune to love, therefore, I'm gonna go to the docks. When I look ten years into the future, I see myself a Dev-D mimc. Drugs, alcohol etc. All day, each day. But, if the impossible happens, I get the money for the surgery, I get a "soulmate", who's a "room-mate" too, I might be a low-key poet, or alow-key painter, or a low-key film-maker. I know I'll be into something creative. Because discipline pisses me off, and any other form of work would require discipline, even if I'm self-employed. I'll be low-key, because I ain't that talented enough. I love writing, but I know a 50 others who write better than me! I love painting, but I know a 50 other guys who paint better than me! It's not depressing, because, I have lost the desire to be the best, long ago. I am, as my better half says, a jack of all trades, master of none! I take an interest in everything, I don't sharpen myself at any of it. I am happy as long as I have work to do, work given to me, by me, myself.
But, there are short-lived moments when I wish I could just be great at studies, get a high-paid job in the UN, or any MNC, work a lot, projects, presentations and all, earn a lot, and just pursue other stuff in my leisure. But, they are short-lived. The slightest of disturbances make me realise, I mean, re-realise, that all that wishful thinking is nothing but media-influenced shit. I don't want all that.
What I am doing here? Since I haven't got AdWords here, I'm not even going to get paid for blogging. I just wanted to write something; anything, to while away time. I'll be leaving for a weekend at Durgapur, withing a few hours. I need to kill time, somehow.
I could have studied, right? With my exams going on, that would be the sensible thing to do. Heck! I love studying, but not when things such as exams make it a compulsion. That's the problem with me. I love doing everything, as long as they ain't compulsory for me to do!
Who cares! I'm on the wrong, I know. But all men ain't destined to succeed. Some need to fail, in order to build a base for comparisons, when judging success! I'm destined to be a loser. So that, some other mortal gets to be a winner. I can't say I don't mind. That would be a lie. But I don't think I'll sulk if I don't get to be great. I know I have made a difference to a lot of lives. And that should be enough to be proud of, for the rest of my life.
thus i
pass by
and die
as one
unknown
and gone
i'm made
a shade
and laid
i' th' grave
there have
my cave
where tell
i dwell
farewell.
[Copied from someone's profile]
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Serious stuff again!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Scribbling
All the time.
It's best I'm left alone.
To brood and groan.
It's wrong to feel
You have all the burden
To yourself.
I know there are
People.
There, Here.
You, and you, you.
But you have your own
Stories.
Ponder.
But observe.
I'm not
What you want me to be.
I don't want to be.
What you want me to be.
I'm sick.
I'm pathetic.
I'm incurable.
Yeah, I copied all that.
From your SMS.
It's me.
It's time you saw
That we're going nowhere.
Give up on me.
'Cuz I can't be.
Look at me.
My disguise.
Period.
That's enough.
I'm fed up.
Of explaining,
Demonstrating.
My work is done.
I'm free to die.
I'm free to smoke.
I'm free to burn my lungs
Till I'm no more.
I beg of you.
Volver.
One last time.
Let me feel you.
I won't repeat the words.
I won't bore you.
With all that
All over
Again. Again.
Just one last time.
Volver.
I'll tell you
Clearly.
What bothers me
All the time.
You.
Me.
The others.
Living,
Non-living,
Abstract.
Period
That's enough.
I'm fed up.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Random
Ok, I'll change this again. Orkut, later.
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Miracle Boy
Foreword: This is the long-promised poem to Deshraj, for Deshraj. For the boy who’s indispensable, to a lot of people who matter to me, including yours truly.
He walked with a stride,
He laughed like a child,
His words were mild,
He had nothing to hide.
He loved all abound;
Was loved by all around,
Around him was found
Silence amidst sound.
He transformed tears
Into smiling faces
He hid his fears
In unknown places.
Black he wore, yet he shone
Style came from sources unknown!
He played all day,
Yet was no dull Jack
He was ready to help
Before you could ask
Always full of vim
Always radiating
Anyone around him
Would need no gearing.
His smile would enchant
Spirits that didn’t flex
His eyes so elegant
Could do a hex.
He’s a friend with all
Never misses a call
He’s never too far,
Of all he’s a part.