Saturday, December 29, 2012

May YOU Help Me?

Main Pareshaan,  Pareshaan, Pareshaan, Pareshaan……..
The words, not exactly the song, brilliantly describe my current plight. And that is what implored me to pick up my pen while listening to this song this morning. And so here I am, with my pre-exam saga!

Just 4 more (actually less) days, and I’ll be sitting in an unfavorable atmosphere with some alike humans on  climately* chilly day, with few pages containing  an alien script, accompanied with a set of blank sheets with a thousand straight lines, and a pen in my hand meant to write ‘something’ on those lines. In short, I’ll be sitting in the exam hall, probably for writing my first exam in college, and pathetically, the subject(s) and me have been devoid of any possible contact for the past 1 and a little more month!
However, the real topic of concern is that I am utterly clueless as to why the hell am I not feeling even a pinch of the student-factor within me, and more so when there’s hardly anytime left for the inauguration of the concentration camp, with all sorts of the weapons, of the kind I’ve never known. The heavy ones coming from the Economic Family, the just seemingly lighter ones from the Political Family, and a little harmless ones from the family of Psychos’ ! And the worst part is I know no self-defence technique. (Pardon the exaggeration, please.)
What’s kicking my mind constantly is why have I suddenly developed this unnatural liking for programs I won’t watch even if it had Ranbir in the lead!, and even cricket,  for which I bear a since birth dislike! :o Additionally, I recently felt a strong push to read a Chetan Bhagat novel, and more appallingly, to watch a certain “Pyaar Ka Punchnama”. To sum it all up, I am all charged to enjoy every not-so-appealing piece of entertainment, as long as it shields me from studies. And then at the end of day, the moronic brain gets up from her slumber , just to poke me right into the heart with the question “What if I flunk the exams?” O_o (Horrifying no?). Though this lovely thought flings away faster than it comes, it really is disturbing. 

All I want is some really  helping tips to make some space for focus in my head. If someone could take up the deed for my need, I’ll be more than obliged! (After all, You won’t want to be friends with a failure ;) )

*I know no such word exists…but then, it’s my blog ;)

Friday, December 28, 2012

The Birds in the Cage

I watch them silently
they are silent too
What else they can do
 There's a hope in their eye
that they'll touch the sky
One day they'll fly high

We love them
when they tweet and chirp
But quell them with our usurp

We don't get this simple thing
that they are more gay when free
Let them dance and have a spree

You'll see it yourself
how genial the milieu gets
When each of their feather frets

But I know you'll stay stiff
they won't get to see all and sundry
And remain packed in that boundary

But there's a hope in their eye
that they'll touch the sky
One day they'll fly high

Monday, December 24, 2012


It was just the other day when out of my usual habit of 'pretending' to study, I was sitting with the book open but my mind hanging around with some of my weirdest thoughts, and then it struck- Why/When do we cry? And suddenly I started recalling weeping faces of all my near ones. Contradictory to what I had thought, in this course, I even remembered my DAD with a welled up look!
Being a little to myself, I just thought of considering this whole "uuuaaan"(crying) business:
I have got this technical fault within me that often averts me from crying 'just' at the right moment. Yeah! Seriously! I can recollect an incident of about an year ago. We had lost a gem of a teacher from my high school who, though she never taught me, was always a sweetheart to me (you are truly missed ma'am :-{ )
It felt so mortifying when I just couldn't gather a single tear even after seeing her in that condition. I deeply hated myself then. Perhaps I was way too much in a trauma as none of us could dare to believe that she had left us. But still, I hated myself! (I am sorry ma'am for appearing so lagged behind in emotions).
But then the repairing of these faults starts when it's actually the time to move on. That is when past memories  decide to take a troll in my mind and I can't help but weep like I have vowed not to stop, at the wrong place and in front of the wrong people.
Then there are people I know who cry watching movies. I match up to them only till the scene portrays a mother-child bonding ('Taare Zameen Par') , or to the most talks about how the male lead gets to know about his beau's terminal illness ('A Walk To Remember' ^_^). But when it comes to mushy romantic scenes, when the guy is proposing 'his' girl (God knows who started this ritual of getting down on the knees) and the flashback of all their ‘together’ moments playing along, I can’t help but smirk and yawn. For that matter, I am yet to discover what makes some fatheads to drizzle when their favorite actor is enjoying scripted punches on screen!
And then I find it utterly difficult to waste my ‘oh-so-precious’ tears on spotting a pimple on my not so gorgeous face, and more difficult when I gain a ‘slight’ injury. Instead I laugh when hurt! Ha! (yea-yea, I know that’s weird!).
But, in no sense the above details state that I can’t or I don’t cry. I do. I CRY, when my ‘elder’ brothers just can’t stop with their routine antics. I CRY, when Mum at the very end moment backs off from buying me the stuff  I’d been drooling over for months! I CRY, when the deadline’s nearing and I am still juggling between the type of the cover page that would suit my assignment. I CRY, when I, myself walk up to the end of the cliff and helplessly am unable to decide whether to step forward or back off. I CRY, when I can’t find  any of my gifts ever received (actually the ones I love). I CRY, when Mum gives away my dearly collected treasures to ANYone. I CRY, when I forget to switch off the pump set and an infinite amount of water gets wasted (err…that’s ME!). I CRY, when my mind decides to take a reverse gear to the times when life was so unraveled and simple, when ‘tasks’ just referred to a small essay on ‘My Mother’. I CRY, when I spill out lines that I never thought of using with Mum (read: mother-daughter arguments :/).
And I CRY, when I give a thought to the filthy paint covering our society, compelling me to think how unsafe we are, how independence is losing its recognition. And then all I can do is CRY!

It was nothing but an attempt to give my feelings within, a readable format.Hope it didn’t succeed in boring you ;-)