Monday, October 27, 2008

Days and Nights...

So this is my first attempt at doing something that doesn't go into any meter...
Ummm...
It's Creepy man!
I've never done something like this...
Anyway...
Would Love some harsh harsh constructive criticism.:]


There are times when I think,
when I'm sitting all alone,
That everything around me
Is a waste of blood and flesh.
And then I look around
and all i see is myself.

Sometimes I think of things to come,
These scary things that scare me so.
I feel the present is a waste of time,
For the future makes me no promises.

Then there are days and months when I,
Out of sheer desperation,
look to my past for answers due,
But all I find is sadness here, sadness there.
A hint of light; the rest is dark.

And then I see some polished steel,
A blackened tip, a scroll of wood.
My thoughts to be submitted here,
They hold some weight to some that read them,
Though to be true I do not know them.

A Brief Explanations Of A Few Lines...
Refer To Then If You Will...

||I feel the present is a waste of time,
For the future makes me no promises.||
I feel the present is waste of time because the future has nothing to look forward to. No point of a present that doesn't lead to better things...

||And then I see some polished steel,
A blackened tip, a scroll of wood.
My thoughts to be submitted here,||
I see a pen and a piece of paper.(Duh!) Here's the part a few people didn't see...
My thoughts are to be written here. Given here because i feel compelled to do so...
The above are the only lines that depict me in any way...



Yeah...
How bad is it?

Sunday, August 10, 2008

At The Cafe - My First Fight.

NOTE: This Is A Complete Work Of Fiction. Names And Places That Bear Any Resemblance To Anything In The Real World Are But A Simple Coincidence. Thank You.


Being as classically unfit as I am in terms of both my understanding of things and my physical being I do not think twice before i step into the ring. I am young, I am stupid and so I enter something that will leave me a changed human being without thinking much about it. In front of me, an unusual situation unfolds. A tall someone stands before me. He is stronger, faster and more capable a fighter that I, according to me, at this point of time, will ever be. But I am hopeful. With one swift blow he strikes me down. Now normally, this is that point of time in 'The Cafe' when the fight is stopped and the fighters shake hands in respect. But the tall someone is ignorant. A kick to the ribs follows his deadly blow. The pain goes a few notches up. Of course I try to defend myself. I'm designed to. We all are. I catch hold of his leg as his second kick makes it's way towards me. Bad idea. His other leg finds it's way upon my chest. Pain. That's when I meet real pain. Pain's a funny thing you know... Sometimes, it's loud and harsh and yet sometimes it's it's so subtle that you can't even feel it's presence till it's gone. Only 'because then you realize that something's missing. Too bad what I felt was the first kind.

"Fu**! Ben****! Get off! Get off!"

Now I believe in the goodness of mankind and so I like to think that he doesn't hear me. After all, The Cafe is a loud place. With all that booze and all that music, it's bound to be that way. A kick to the shoulder. Pain. Wonderful Pain. Lot's of it. In different colours too! I see red when my eyes close. When I gain consciousness everything is purple. A white light is in my range of vision. A shadow suddenly blocks it.

"Ch*****! Your first fight and you fight Arnav? Dumb-ass! You should've just bitten your di** off man! Your luck Krishna was out there."

Krishna, as I am told by this shadow named Abbas is the man that has saved me. He picked up the large fellow and threw him across the room. Nice! Or is it? I don't know.Everything hurts too much. But I can't help to wonder who this Krishna really is. How I find out, well... That's a different story. For now I lie on this bed. One that I will lie on many times over the course of the next few months. One that will support my weight and that of many others as they cry, laugh, make love, bleed, fight and sometimes, just sometimes, sleep.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

A letter...

Something I Wrote For A Little Contest On IAW...
One Of The Few Things I'm Proud Of...
This Is The Revised One...

Dear God,

Hello! It's Mahesh here. But I guess you already know that, you being God and all. How’s it going up there? I bet the weather’s great! This kid Shravan at school says there’s a huge bowl of ras malai ( you know, that yellow sweet) up there. Is that true? Well if it is I’m coming up there for sure!

Since it’s been so long since I’ve written to you (About 3 years I think) I think I’ll start off with telling you what’s going on in life for me. I’m five and half feet tall now! I guess all that cycling to school did help out after all! I was wrong to shout at mom for making me ride dad’s old rusted bike to school every day! Half an hour of riding is no joke! But money’s been tight since dad left (Not that we ever had enough when he was around but now it’s just so much harder) and I should try to save money and take care of everything. After all, I am the man of the house! I’m 12 years old now! I’m not a kid! That brings us to another cool new thing! I got a job! Every day after school I go to school instead of playing with the other boys I go to the local grocer’s store to help out. He pays me 50 rupees a month! Though don’t tell mom about it. She thinks I play with my friends. She’d burst if I told her I was working. No! I don’t keep the money for myself! I just slip it into the box she puts the money she makes into. She doesn’t even notice! Wait till she realizes there’s extra money when she calculates it next month! She’ll be so amazed! Don’t worry! I’ll give you all the credit! Oh and mom left her old job. She got one at some factory. She makes lunch there. It’s funny really, she makes lunch for so many people but somehow forgets to get us some of the food for dinner. Ah well. Dadi’s condition isn’t any better than before. The doctor gave her two weeks. Well at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. Her moaning at night was getting annoying... But let’s not get into that! The gram Panchayat elections were held last month. What a mess they were! There were people shouting in protest and then there were police and there was firing and it just made me sick! People are so useless. They ruin everything! I was hoping that this time Sameer Chaha would win. He was such a sweet person! A good leader too! He could’ve taken our village to better places! He had even promised to make a school! No more going to the next village just to attend school. Oh wait, but then I’d have to quit my job! No way would the grocer here give me a job! My mom would kill him! Well anyway, it’s about time I get to studying. I have to give that scholarship exam! If I get through it, mom will be able to pay Munni’s college fees easily! Otherwise she’ll have to get to working at some rich man’s house in some god-forsaken city! Thank you for everything God, thank you for mom, thank you for my Dadi. Thank you for taking away her pain. Thank you for helping me get taller and for the bicycle and thanks for the job. I promise I’ll make you and Mom and Munni proud one day! I promise!

Please take care of everyone. I’m sure you’ll do it. You always do. Life’s hard, yes, but it could be a lot harder. Thank you. Say hello to dad for me, tell him I miss him, we all do.

Yours lovingly,

Mahesh.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Sing Along...

Well Following My New Method Of Dealing With Things...
Just Bottling Up Inside And Then Letting Them Out As Seemingly Senseless Rhymes...

Here's Another Something From Me...




His grin just gives it all away,
His special grin, it makes me sway,

Towards his path and thoughts of things,
Towards the blood, the pain he brings.

His eyes are more than dots of black,
They’re pools of death, and they attack.

Against his will I cannot go,
For doing that, it seems so wrong,
So when he sings of evil deeds,
All I can do is sing along.
All I can do is sing along...


Would Love Your Words On It...

Monday, May 19, 2008

Stray...

Not The Best I've Written But It's The First Time I've Written Something Like This So...
Yeah...


With startled eyes, I look and see,
Curls of brown in front of me.

Their hazel shade, it draws me in,
Now where was I? Where have I been?

A binding scent, I’m hypnotized,
A dream of love is synthesized.

She turns around, I see her face,
I hear it now, my heart, it says,

Look into those hazel eyes,
Feel your soul, see how it flies.

Then someone calls and I snap out,
My mind in awe, my heart in doubt.

And I shall let it stay that way,
I’ll let it feel, I’ll let it stray.

Let it think of what could be,
Let it bring a smile to me.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Mission Accomplished...

Wrote this for something on IAW...


"CHARGE!"

The commander's voice booms across the battlefield. He does as he's told. Shells that fall from the sky do a lot of damage. He dodges one-two-three! The fourth almost gets him. He's back on his feet now. Ready to kill. He sees the enemy coming at him now. One shot, one kill. That's his way of doing things.

"Keep Moving Private!"

The commander moves past him. The commander's a brave man he thinks. Another shell dodged. He moves forward. Jumping over a few corpses, creating a few. That's what he does. Those are his orders. Reaching the bunker he looks around for a brief moment. The commander's lying dead a little to his left. From the corner of his eye a figure takes aim. Another kill for the private. Moving into the bunker he finds what he's come for.

"STOP! DO NOT MOVE!" He sees a familiar figure at the corner of the room.

"Stripes. You're still alive. Shit! I had my money on you dying yesterday!"

Stripes pounces. That's what they're taught. Move forward. Kill. The private drops his gun. Time to get back to day one of killing camp. That's what they call it. That's where they're all trained. That's where they become Privates. Where they learn to obey without question. To kill without concern. Knifing time. They fight like they've known each other forever. And maybe they have. They grew up together. Brothers. But orders are to be followed. He dodges a jab and returns a hit. Two hits. Three.

"Good bye Stripes."

The Final blow is in position. But Stripes has his orders too. A silent cut ends His life. He isn't that bad either. Stripes whispers as his gut tears.
"Mission accomplished."

Friday, May 2, 2008

About this boy.

Once upon a time there lived a boy in a city. A big city it was. Very big. To big for anyone to pay attention o this little child. He wasn’t really all that little though. He was, as he put it, large. A little large boy living in a really big city. The boy would wake up the same way every time. Disturbing sleep he had. But it didn’t bother him. He was accustomed to it. Every night at 2 AM he’d wake up. A nightmare would drive his sleep away. But nightmare or no nightmare he’d wake up with a smile… A big smile that said “Hello! I’m here! I’m Back! And I Am Alive!” to all that would see it. But obviously no one would ever see it. He didn’t care. He’d pet his plants and wash his face. He made the best of what he had.

“Now where did I put those books? He’d ask himself. “There you are! Now! Prepare to be read like you’ve never been read before oh not-so organic man-made compound!” He’d laugh at his own joke. Making sure not to do so too loud. No, he wasn’t all that funny. But he made good company for himself.

He’d read words of men and women and Gods till the sun rose and it was time for him to get up. He’d get into bed and put on that old sleeping act.

“Wake up or miss breakfast big-guy” A familiar voice would say.

“I’d rather miss breakfast!” His act was perfect.

“Ok then. Your choice.” The voice would leave silently.

He’d get up and do what we all do every morning. It was time to get started with the day. Mumbling and humming he’d go about his daily chores till he managed to reach the part of the day where he was left all alone.

“Thinkin time” He called it. He’d walk the streets of the city as he thought. Looking at what was around him. The buildings, the sky, the people and everything else he could possibly see. He would marvel at how well nature had made things.

He’d say “I’m just a year old in my head. Everything is just so new to me. I like seeing all the colours and shapes and thoughts around me. Observing them, analyzing them. It gives me peace.”

He led a fairly simple life. Minimalistic he’d call himself. But his thoughts never seemed that way. He always wanted to become big and powerful. He’d say that it was the best way to help. He liked helping. Especially when it cam to helping his friends. Yes. He had friends. He loved his friends. He always did.

Well anyway. At the end of it all, it would be time to go back to sleep. Time to rest, time to dream. And as he’d get back up at night with a nightmare running through his mind he’d smile a smile that said “Hello! I’m here! I’m Back! And I Am Alive!”.