Hobbies, Literary experience, philosophical me

When one word speaks a thousand words

As a matter of lack of choice, or rather as a result of murder of choice, not a day passes by in my life when I don’t come across some arrangement of Roman alphabets that always makes sense to my literate mind.But there are some words that are forever condemned to have their existence intertwined with our distant or not so distant past.When I come across those words, a divine orchestra of words fill my day dreaming mind.

One such word that comes to my mind is “melancholy”. If I had ever done grave injustice that sprang to my mind. The first line of this para would definitely find its place as a stinking specimen.  For an inaudible whisper of the word “melancholy” flooded my mind with memories that I had to let it out in this blog. In my not so distant past, I had to study a subject called alternative English. In my school days, it was a subject that definitely compete in the race to be my favourite. You hardly got marks. There was no such thing as right answer or wrong answer. It all depended on how much your teacher liked your answer. But it sure had some of the finest specimens of English literature still not lost in the pages of history.

Wordsworth, I really hope I am not messing up with the name of the great nature poet for I have resolved not to look up the literary piece that forms an integral part of this post. This is done with a misplaced sense of self-righteousness that I can do justice to my memories only if my entire post is untainted with anything but my memories. “Misplaced sense of self righteousness”- rings any bell. In my mind, I hear an explosion of bell metal that numbs my sense of hearing. These words always teleports me to the seats of inox kolktata, and I see joker mouthing these words to batman. Dark knight is a part of my recent memory and weeds have not yet attacked this castle. So, I shall try to quickly pass through my neighbourhood and zoom to my past.

About Wordsworth , he had written a poem called solitary reaper. I really don’t recollect all the words of the poem but a few words have stood the test of time.This was the poem that told me of the existence of the word “lass”. I first heard someone using the word “melancholy notes”. I found myself wandering across the world trying to help Wordsworth decipher what the beautiful lass was trying to sing in a language that he did not understand but in a voice that touched his heart.But therein lies an allegory of my life, whenever I hear the word “melancholy”, a smile spreads on my lips, I race to my school days, and I fail to sympathize with anything and everything sad about the collection of words that needs the word melancholy to describe itself.

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philosophical me, reflections of time

A scream across the skies

scream across the skies

Our hearts beat for the one we love said an ancient sage
Nay said the rational sage
It beats to keep us alive
I ask the sages of all ages
How do you live without the one you love.

Where is the beauty promised by beauty
When I long to see only your eyes
What is the joy in all I do
when I long only to see you smile.

How do I lift the veil of mist
To see me in your midst
How do I make you see
All that is me
Is only a prayer to you.

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philosophical me

Prayer to a mortal

project gutenburg
What language shall I speak to thee
To tell how I feel
To plead to allow me to steal
A new smile for your lips.

What words should I choose
To tell you that I only want to see you greet the morning Sun
I only long to see you sleep
I dream to feel the air you breathe.

Teach me to speak the inaudible words
To let you know that I love you now
And shall love you till my grave withers away
To tell you that false hopes of owning your heart
Is the only thing that keeps my heart from giving away.

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life, my life, philosophical me

My hero

Evey few heartbeats an unknown neuron in my brain
Raises a war cry
it forges the blade to cut through the thorns of my past lives
it weaves the basket to collect the rainbows of the days gone by.

It makes me want to jump like a mad man
It makes me want to laugh like a drunk man
Vistas of an eden in my future beckons me to march ahead
And I walk, I run, I sprint, I leap ahead

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my life, philosophical me

Dreams of Insomniac slumber

most men dream while they sleep
Sweet dreams broadens their imaginary lips and makes them smile
lengthen their slumber in hopes of living the dream just a few more heartbeats.

Nightmares widens the real eyes, mutes the sweet lullaby, drives away the sleep
We draw solace in the more comfortable reality
We throw up prayers for the sweet dreams to come to pass
to lock away the nightmares in some corner far away from the world we breathe.

But my sweet dreams come to my life when I am wide awake
I fear the thought of dreaming about you while I sleep
I may never want to wake up
to break my dream of you by my side as I dream.

My nightmares are all about losing you
Although I only dream of winning the love of you
Tell me love how do I lengthen my slumber with my eyes wide awake
How do I embrace the decree of the Gods, chase away my nightmares
for I have not dreamt in my sleep.

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philosophical me, romantic comedy

rumblings on 23rd December

With every passing strand of time,

I find myself at the mercy of the same Gods
I can’t reconcile with the truth
that you will love someone else.
I find myself bereft of words
Rhythmic verses have transformed into hollow proses.
My heart bleeds to win your heat
My eardrums strain to hear your voice
My mind conjures images to fool my eyes
To tell me that you are here.
My mind create false hopes
that I create a situation
to hear your thoughts.
This is the last stage of bargaining.
A last prayer telling the Gods
I seek not the lighthouse
but the distant warmth of the rays
to bring a smile to my lips.
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Hobbies, kaygeepee, life, my life, philosophical me, reflections of time

Ruminations on the years gone by

“The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones” : William Shakespeare.

A fictional piece intended to raise raw emotions in a mob inclined on forgetting the treachery enacted in the corridors of power of Rome. Like everything written by Shakespeare, you can interpret these exhibits of superhuman wizardry over words to suit you needs. I too indulged in the same. There are moments in our life that make us inexplicably happy, makes us want to scream in joy loud enough to snap our vocal chords so that those joyous screams get mortalized as the last sound vibe emanating from out mundane existence.

As i enact those moments in my conscious and sub conscious minds, i cannot fail to appreciate the single thread that binds those moments together is the element of surprise. There is no such thing as a pleasant surprise.

The earliest such surprise that my Alzheimer free brain can think of dates back to the early nineties- 1994 to be precise- I was in class three. Had not achieved much till then. was a mediocre at school who somehow managed to get a double promotion. Was the opposite of being an athlete. My only claim to fame probably was that I was the cutest person in the co-ed school. We had a 10 minutes break after two classes. My cheeks used to ache after that. In fact one of my teacher remarked that i am only fair guy in my class much to the displeasure of a few of my classmates. So coming to the pleasant surprise. I was asked by one of our neighbours to go and watch a quiz competition. The quiz was open to students up to class 8. So, I went. I thing led to another and I found myself participating in a team with another guy from class five. The quiz was a written one. So, the results were not declared immediately. Guess what we were third by getting five out of 30 questions right :D. The winner had around 20 questions right. But boy my joy knew no bounds !!!That certificate remains the most wrinkled piece of paper I still treasure. I got many a certificates after that but that one remains special.

Next surprise fast forwards my life to 2002. I was in Assam then- upper Assam. I just heard of IIT a year back and wanted to get in. But nobody I knew any of the interiors of any of the IITs. I had a row with my best friend that year. So, had spent the better part of the year trying to find out how to get into IIT. For a reality check, I though I should give NTSE exam. I was a student of the state board and the scholastic part of the NTSE was from CBSE board. And like JEE, nobody I knew had cleared NTSE. Anyways I gave the exam. I had no faith in the way our answer scripts were going to be corrected in class 10th boards. This lack of faith was vindicated when my entire school was awarded 66 in English. I gave NTSE so that I can back my claim that my state board sux in evaluation. On the day I was leaving for Delhi to apply for schools, I read the paper. The paper had my name. I was fourth in the state. prelim of NTSE So, I left for Delhi armed with evidence that my state board sux. Moreover, our state had a reputation for declaring results late rather late.

My life in kgp revolved around extra acads- kshitj, tech gc ,placement committee work and alumni cell- necessarily in that order :D. When I joined kshitj or ktj as we affectionately call it. It was not so big as it is today. I was primarily involved in events in Ktj but the biggest surprise came in spons. Me and chuha went to Delhi for our DP trip. DP as in Durga Puja– this trip is the time when we go out with a begging bowl to organize the fest that has become a phenomenon now. The year before the entire member team had collected around 20 k. Not even a single penny came from Delhi. Me and chuha were given target of 20 k from Delhi. By that time our entire member team had collected 2k from one months worth of calling. With modest hopes, I landed in Delhi and within an hr of my reaching Delhi, i started cannibalizing SF(:D)- the cult fest our bigger brother back then. By afternoon I had 8 k. Chuha had arrived by then, we then decided to meet one alum who was not so inclined on giving us money. I don’t know what struck me but i started talking to him about an ad. Chuha was getting frustrated by my side thinking we lost the money – why will someone sponsor us after hearing the nonsense i was blubbering. But I was in the midst of a Midas touch then and he backed me adding a few more nonsensical sentences.When I had finished, we got a cheque of 15 k. We had achieved our trips target in one day. We somehow held our nerves for a few moments and once beyond the visible range of Mr. Subhash Kalia – we indulged in mad celebrations. We got many more sponsorship deals – probably bigger in volume but first time surprise tastes sweet.

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