Posts Tagged ‘Divyanshukalra’


My hands tremble’

with words i fumble.

Brain stops working,

I ain’t thinking,

that boy in Mental Depression?

Why did they do that?

Was he not Almighty’s creation?

I thought about him—

He was a little mentally err…

unstable is false

insane falser

he was mentally special

no matter who was in front of him

he used to just shake hands with him

boys abused him

girls used to foolishly grin

but he didnt care

even if to him the world was not fair

but the world a sad place

grew jealous of his smile

each day he with his unbreakable spirit

he used to just shake hands with strangers

smiling waving to them

he was the sole flower

in a desert under the sun

but day by day the flower withered

unable to stand the headays went by

his smile was now a model of repressed emotions

he quit shaking hands

reason?

people called him insane

on his face

retard insane a laughing stock

but the hell was yet to unleash itself

he the lamp in the darkness of depression

was kicked out of his house

after he failed to get to any college

no friends deserted by his family

For days he just sat at the corner of a bench

on the mercy of those who gave him food

then he disappeared

five years later today found him in a hospital

never told me he was in depression

why did they do that to him

because he waved to them

I met him he was staring at the roof

was on machine barely alive

he looked at me those eyes…..

they captured me

they didnt have the happiness

they used to

they were …….hollow

drained

he didnt say anything just stared

I came out unable to face him

The lamp had gone out

the flower had died

the world drained the happiness out of him

his soul was also lost to the demon

consumed by hell itself

I came out wondering was there a God?

My hands tremble’

with words i fumble.

Brain stops working,

I ain’t thinking,

that boy in Mental Depression?

Why did they do that?

Was he not Almighty’s creation?

I thought about him—

He was a little mentally err…

unstable is false

insane falser

he was mentally special

no matter who was in front of him

he used to just shake hands with him

boys abused him

girls used to foolishly grin

but he didnt care

even if to him the world was not fair

but the world a sad place

grew jealous of his smile

each day he with his unbreakable spirit

he used to just shake hands with strangers

smiling waving to them

he was the sole flower

in a desert under the sun

but day by day the flower withered

unable to stand the headays went by

his smile was now a model of repressed emotions

he quit shaking hands

reason?

people called him insane

on his face

retard insane a laughing stock

but the hell was yet to unleash itself

he the lamp in the darkness of depression

was kicked out of his house

after he failed to get to any college

no friends deserted by his family

For days he just sat at the corner of a bench

on the mercy of those who gave him food

then he disappeared

five years later today found him in a hospital

never told me he was in depression

why did they do that to him

because he waved to them

I met him he was staring at the roof

was on machine barely alive

he looked at me those eyes…..

they captured me

they didnt have the happiness

they used to

they were …….hollow

drained

he didnt say anything just stared

I came out unable to face him

The lamp had gone out

the flower had died

the world drained the happiness out of him

his soul was also lost to the demon

consumed by hell itself

I came out wondering was there a God?

9/11

Posted: April 2, 2012 in My works, Poems
Tags: , , , ,

9/11We all mourn,

Suffer from the pain of being left alone,

Both the towers came down,

With a harsh, inevitable sound,

Loved ones were killed,

Leaving us grief filled,

This loss we all face,

We got no solace,

The pain of losing a thousand lives,

Father, sons and wives,

A decade ago we lost ’em all,

The world watched the towers fall,

The grief of separation,

The sadness of destroyed relations,

The world was filled with despair,

The people carried a heart broken beyond repair,

The survivors were very few,

So we all hail together,

‘Osama FUCK YOU!’


Sophisticated IdiotWell there are four type of people in the world –

1. Those who don’t give a shit about what other thin and do anything in public.(Yep, those who do stupid things like pricking their noses in public come under this category.)

2.Those who don’t care what other think but are well-mannered.

3.Those who care what others think and behave in public.

4. Those who show off  their manners and they try to show how ‘sophisticated’, delicate they are(and unfortunately they are mostly girls!!)!!

Yes, the fourth kind is the kind whom i call sophisticated idiots! The symptoms of sophisticated idiocy are-

  1. EATING– The most noticeable (and irritating!) behavior of this disease is wiping the mouth(wiping  after every bite. Eat, chew and wipe, eat, chew and wipe,  eat, chew and wipe I mean what the hell??
  2. OVERREACTING– Another of the symptom is making comments. Not normal comments but comments like how downmarket, eeeewwwww(where the ‘u’ is pulled so long that it look like a classical song)!!!
  3. FOLLOWER– Have you ever seen on t.v that a girl(who comes under my definition of sophisticated idiot!) is been followed by two of her ‘followers? Yes that also happen in reality, not to that extend as shown in t.v(t.v shows the followers as a type of dog who wags its tail whenever the leader gives a command.
  4. Sneezing– Perhaps one of the most irritating habit is there sneezing style they sneeze so softly and then with the tip of there fingers hold touch the part just below there neck and softly say excuse me!
  5. HICCUPS– They hiccup in the same style as they sneeze but what is more irritating is that they giggle after every SINGLE BLOODY HICCUP!!
  6. CLAPPING– They never clap they do it just for style. To learn how to clap like them follow the following steps-
    • First keep your left hand horizontally
    • Then touch the finger tips of other hand touch the extremeeeeeeeeee right end of your left hand.
    • Now lift your right hand and gentally repeat the 2nd instruction(DON’T MAKE ANY NOISE!!)
  7. WIPING – Whenever they sweat they never wipe their face they only take a tissue and gentally TOUCH there face as if if they wipe it there face may disfigure!!

Credits-

  • Ankita Sharma-She is a great hater of these type of people and we had a nice long conversation on their irritatinghabits
  • My Father-At a party he asked me to keep a napkin below my plate so i while replying to him by saying that this is a habit of .. i failed to produce a appropriate word for them. And later i thought of the name sophisticated idiots and decided to mock them cause they resemble bullshit, and I MOCK AT BULLSHIT!!!!!

They say india is a land of many cultures. Well, yes it is!!! The problem however is the fact that being a land of culture means that it also is a land of rituals, and a hell lot of them!! Lets track the life of a child and the infinite rituals he goes through. Well the child is born, celebration and of course a havan(a type of prayer in which a flame is lit), you see that’s the problem in india every celebration is accompanied by a ritual and mostly a havan. The mother for the first time breast feeds the child then also another havan. Then the child is balded and another havan! The child grows ups and learn to walk another havan!! The childs speaks for the first time so another havan! But the main events take place around the wedding. The marriage is fixed, havan! The bride then goes through a number of rituals like getting herself covered from head to toe in turmeric and millions of other rituals(fortunately(for you and me!)i don’t remember them all). Then the marriage occurs and again the bride goes through another set of rituals! Like kicking a pot of rice before taking the first step in the grooms house! And then putting the hand in a pot full of money to grab as much As possible!

Then comes the first series of festivals they all are named like first Holi etc.(these are also celebrated if it they are the first series of festivals for a new-born baby(i forgot to mention them in the beginning)) and all of these are throughly celebrated and are mostly accompanied by a havan!! Then the girl becomes pregnant so,it time for another havan! The baby is born and the series of havan, celebration restarts! Then the man dies. And the family members do a hell lot of rituals and havans. One for the peace of the soul, one to ensure that the soul goes to heavens(WHAT DO THE EXPECT? THE GOD WILL SAY”you are going to hell because ur family members haven’t done enough no. of havans?!?”)then finally the persons ashes are flown into ganga the holy(and super dirty) river! So basically a man goes through a hell lot no. of rituals in life!!


CID is the short for crime investigation department. However since 1998, a person named B.P singh has been dedicated to insure that the full form of CID becomes chupa indian detective! yes my friends I am talking about the unfortunately hit series CID on the Sony television. Well, well where should i start critizing the utter nonsense serial? should i start from the fact that the main character is utterly stupid? or from the fact that the main character thinks that every thing including traffic can be broken(yeah, traffic. in one episode ACP(the main character) says to Daya,”Daya, traffic tood do!!”(Daya, break the traffic!!)) or from the fact that all the character are incredibly stupid(the ACP specially. he makes statements like,”Yahan lash pade hai, iska matlab yahan khoon hua hoga!!”(a corpse is lying here that means that a murder was committed here!!))  and they act like they are the Indian Sherlock Homes! over all theseial suffer from a bullshit plot, bullshit acting, bullshit characters and not to mention super bullshit dialogues. At he end of every episode the main negative character has a nervous breakdown(in short uske fat jate hai!) and he confesses the crime. dude what the hell? So basically it sucks. And obiously not to mention it has the trademark charastic of all indian serials namely OVERACTING!!!

And for those who disagree with me and like CID, i ask them dude what do you like in it? The fact that acp is amazingly ‘intelligent’ or the fact that every time he sees something suspicious(err…suspicious here means stupidly suspicious like finding a man standing with a blood stained knife aside a corpse(no the man ain’t a confirm criminal he is a suspect!!(acp is intelligent ain’t he???)) he aligns his index, middle finger and thumb perpendicular to each other and then stupidly rotates his hand?? Or acp’s dialouges(like daya traffic tood do!!!) but frankly i like it cause it the best comic serial bieng aired currently!!!


Mr. PerfectEnough Serious story so here’s another satire!
You see this isn’t my idea. I was challenged to write this. So you see this might not be my masterpiece. But right now I am facing a crisis, a crisis of having no ideas what to write. I am lying on my couch with my Apple wireless keyboard in my right hand and my left one is deep inside a Lays packet searching for survivors. My eyes are glued to my Macbook all –in-one PC. Wow! I got an idea or atleast I understood the topic, it can mean 2 things, one that I am not perfect. Two I am perfect ‘cause ‘nobody’ is perfect and I’m that ‘nobody’. So I think it should look like I am humble, so I take the first approach towards the article. But my over grown ego resists. So in the end the battle is won by the ego so I take the second approach. I am perfect, guys! I think this saying or perhaps I should say this phrase was developed or at least this is my theory, when an egoistic child after achieving something hailed that he is perfect only to hear from one of his wise friend that nobody’s perfect but with his ego controlled mouth he replied ‘buddy, I am nobody’ followed by his self satisfied laughter so you see hence this phrase was born. Some take the philosophic approach toward the topic but I think that approach would be a lill’ hard to understand ‘cause that’s boring (maybe that’s why we fail to understand concepts at school) so I’m gonna take the comic approach. To be short this means no one’s perfect (save, me) even though it is contrary to the fact that practice makes a man ‘perfect’, so guys throw your books in your bag grab the couch and sit in front of the TV ‘cause no matter what you do you can’t score 100% marks! Well perhaps this is a phrase that tells us no matter what we do we can’t be perfect, you see there is always space for improvement. Though I don’t know how 100% gaining nerds improve further? Perhaps he should use ‘apsara’ extra dark pencils. (You have seen the advertisement haven’t you?). To be honest I don’t believe in this, I mean what happened to the ‘BE – HAPPY – IN – WHATEVER – YOU – HAVE’ philosophy? So guys even if you get 77 out of 80 work hard for those 3 marks and if you get those 3 marks then aim for err… something above 100% (I have no clue what that is!). This is a phrase that inspires us to achieve more and more. It is, in my opinion, similar to the Rang De Basanti’s character Ajay’s dialogue ‘no country is perfect we have to make it perfect’ the only difference being that this for the humans rather than country. But the approach that made me declare I’m perfect, can be used as a ‘SELF-MOTIVATION’. It can higher the confidence level of someone. But it can also make someone over-confident. So you see both the approach are positive and have the potential to be helpful to someone. The decision lies with you what approach you take. As for me I’m gonna use this phrase to work hard for the next SST exam, as I have achieved my previous goal of bringing more than 50 out of 80 (I got 55) and try next time to get more than 55, you see I follow the phrase ‘slow and steady wins the race’ and thus I wanna be slow and steady in progress too!

Checkmate  The air was filled with the smell of tobacco. Steve had been smoking his pipe for the       last one hour. He had been sitting in the comforts of the heat of angethi. He was lying lazily in his rocking chair reading ‘A brief history of time’ well at least his eyes were on it. His brain was a wandering dog. For once or twice his coach’s advice had come to his mind but he ignored it. He gently blew out the smoke. The previous morning his coach had advised him to look at the previous games of Paul on the net. He had to learn Paul’s strategies and modify his own to beat Paul. But he had ignored the advice. He was too proud to listen to the coach. After all what was the coach? He was only an old fool. He   had won all previous games of the championship, he could beat Paul. His chain of thoughts was broken by the flickering light of the angethi. The clock stuck twelve. It  was after half an hour that the angethi’s flame was out. Steve was too tired to replace the coal. He decided to sleep, his eyelid became heavy. Steve had come to India to play the finals of the ‘World Chess Championship (W.C.C)’. His competitor, the other finalist was Paul Anderson from Ireland. The previous game’s stats favored Steve. Experts said Steve had a better chance of winning. Paul himself had admitted that Steve was better as a player than him. Perhaps these were the facts that had inflated Steve’s ego. Steven Flo had been representing England in the game. He was a new comer in the world of international chess. Steve knew if he loses, his career was over, well at least those who didn’t get a chance to represent England would make sure that his career was tore apart to bits.
The next morning, the sun’s rays penetrated Steve’s eyelids. He woke up with a start. Today was an important day for him. Today either he would attain eternal glory or would become a disgrace for England. The pressure on him was even more because England couldn’t loss from an eastern country like Ireland and more over England was a champion for the last 6 years. It was not only a game it was a quest for glory.
At about 8 at night the people of Ireland switched on the TV a satisfactory smile lit their faces the headlines were ‘Paul beats Steven Flo to win the finals of W.C.C’…
Steve was sitting in his chair, the clock stuck 11. He was smoking his pipe. He had lost the championship. It was not a close win by Ireland. It was perhaps the quickest game in the history of international chess. His career was over, he was over. Could he face the anger of his fans? Could he face his mentor and coach? Could he face anyone in England? Panic washed over him like icy cold water. He was a disgrace to his country. Despair and helplessness filled him up. Then suddenly an option came to his mind. He considered it. Yes said a voice from back of his head. He got up and went to his suitcase and picked up his pistol, placed it on his chest and pulled the trigger. Steve fell, blood oozed out of his chest. His pager beeped, he reached his breast pocket for it. He cleaned the blood on it with a struggling hand. He read it with difficulty it was from his mentor it read ’Success is a lousy teacher it seduces men into thinking they can’t lose’. Everything went black…