:)

taking a walk back to the pavilion in pain , limping and disappointed. He could have taken a wicket or two , just thought He had his outswingers going before this happened. The way to pavilion seemed long enough ....
I am planning to write down my story on PagalGuy. A website meant for MBA aspirants which has a thread named All I Want To Say About Cat. Its a dream to actually get yourself on that thread ,to make your story inspire others. But I finds an uncanny resemblance of my story to those of others. The pang of missing out the dream undergrad college coz of similar reason.,family ,friend ,girl ,peer pressure ,you name it . I thought of giving it my flavor, telling them about a boy who loved his sports though couldn't play as his parent loved his Report card. A guy who everybody thought was the wonder kid of the family. He still remembers the comment by his maths teacher on his answer sheet and also the demeanor of his hero when he failed for the first time.
When i joined my college, my father was taking a walk with me on the first day. He turned around to me and said "No topper has ever walked on this road" , an initial reaction would have been to break down for a kid who never knew what criticism was all about. But surprisingly he thought "4 years and one will walk back".
"Just one more time" has been said for enough time by me and will remain the order for the rest of my life. My Previous blogpost reads the end of the road but this one is just one more time..just one more post to give this stupid boy's blog a fitting end.Incoherent posts always done deliberately to show reader a glimpse of his psyche which very few understood. Trying out humour coz thats the only way you can make people go through the entire blog. My opinion on issues never mattered.Demeaning oneself to try and create a contrast and escape with a loose post by virtue of it. I tried out different things , failed and tried just one more time.
As i write what certainly is THE LAST POST ON THIS BLOG , i look forward to a countless opportunities that i 'll have by virtue of a certain college that i am going to.As i think about my post on AIWTSAC and point out how i was the one guy who made a day last for 25 hours and put in that extra hour to try and get what i loved , just one more time.As i risk the entire effort of mine to give this blog an entry under the "ordinary and banal humour" category with this last post of mine, I remember the bowler who went to the match again , tried his heart out just one more time and bowled a perfect outswinger starting at middle and taking off the top of off stump and grunt in joy. That little moment he had kept for himself, though the first one but at the end looks at his captain , one of the many captains he had in his life. His Parents, coach, love , friends and now the captain of him team. Looks for an admiration and says "Aye Captain , I did it for You" !

...And the wheel stopped !!!

This has been my space for long certainly not a blockbuster.

Bye Bye...abhishek911 , you were not bad, I think :)

Aan ode to the String and the Curves

Starting confused, with only wish to write,
A song which I ll compose with the string I ll buy..
With no notes or genre in place,
And no money to save my face…
In a desperate mood to frame a song,
To whatever crap it mite belong..
With an attempt to make it rhyme,
As if it’s a school day poem or street side chimes…
But don’t expect much of me,
I don’t know how to write,
Please excuse for what it might be…
And let it go for the honesty…

Starting the second Para…again confused,
Looking at the first …giving some rues..
So should I listen and borrow some lines..
And put them in a way no one will notice,
Making it better , but deep down I realize..
I am not the only one , you might be doing the same,
Sharing a common string, only a greater shame..
So I must tell u again,
I don’t know how to write,
Please excuse for what it might be…
And let it go for the honesty…

Looking at the way its rhyming,
Makes me feel like a kid vying
For the grades in his English paper,
As the wish for writing original taper..
But I don’t know the other way out,
Not intelligent enough for the ideas to sprout…
So don’t expect wisdom from me
As I remind as I have always been…
I don’t know how to write,
Please excuse for what it might be…
And let it go for the honesty…

So I end the agony, I know its disgrace,
The song I ‘ll write.. it better be at my place..
The moment it comes across to people I know,
They will ridicule me for the naivety I show..
But it is not meant for the glory …
Neither to top the chart
So I ll better remind what,
I have been good at..
I don’t know how to write,
Please excuse for what it might be…
And let it go for the honesty…

The Trivia of a Dead Skin

Not long ago it came as a replacement, “you will be stronger”, mistaking numbness with yet another adjective. The master of all crime keeps on sending wrong messages via electric waves which works faster than Google may be not as inaccurate but still enough to let it believe of his longevity.
“Yep, I will try to but please save me from heat”, pity…lying on the floor dead, he never understood it was supposed to be a body in a place where microwave oven is as extinct as common sense. It felt the lack of warmth for the first time, another irony.
He felt cheated and thought this was a conspiracy, the master thinks of “blood, toil and tear” as a romanticism but we are the one who feel the pain. “Why can’t they let us live in peace?” remembering the frequent Goosebumps the master perpetrated, “one’s happiness is other’s misery”. Death and for that matter grief makes Shakespeare out of anybody, at least that is what it thinks. May be wrong coz it has just started thinking ,owing to his disassociation with the master, which is not in vogue since the internet came.
It remembers the most beautiful feeling it had when after being struck by a ball, which at first caused an instant pain was followed by a sense of nothing…numbness they say, nonsense the reader might think of this post in its entirety, “are we on cocaine?” asked to the adjoining one, who had felt it before and was saved by cheap generic medicine of India, “No it isn’t…pray to God”
“Rubbish”, it was a prey to his ignorance rather; “This feels so good” .Unfortunately the neighbor died just like him, ignorance is contagious or may be fate of similar. The days that followed were bliss, with no electric signals coming, but lotions…”I hate it, they suffocate”. A constant sufferer of all sorts of feeling made a cynic out of it. The days passed by and the inevitable struck.” Bye, Bye I am a newbie here, you gotta go bro...” said the replacement.
“Look at the way it speaks, the class is gone”, lamented at his death bed. Remembering all that has passed by, the death for him is no beginning coz it doesn’t belong to Hollywood. “It was wonderful being there” said in his gentlemanly tone and started waiting for the bacteria to feast.

Bihar,Barack and my Political Idealism

15 months since Barack brought the “change” and few months left for Bihar election to occur. Strange comparison but Barack to me signifies the change misplaced in terms of expectation of the intelligentsia of my state. I belong to the legacy of Macaulay, I belong to the intellectual (don’t raise your eyebrows!!) English speaking class who loves to opine. I was born in the late 1980’s in a politically engrossed family, where political affinity was completely dependent on the potential leverage out of it. Throughout my formative years I saw the laws of land been bent, broken leaving it in tatters to benefit people I am closed to. As I near my graduation with obvious expectation of people around me to know my leanings, I have some serious introspection to do. I remember, when Barack was shouting aloud to bring the change in America there was an instant connect with him because he was the personified aspiration of the young English educated youngsters of India. But America is not Bihar and Barack is no Nitish. I have seen and observe the political imbroglio to the best of my capacity and it makes me sad because as a young man in search of idealism, it leaves me with two options. Either accepts the fidelity to an idealism and fail. But it that case you will always be revered for your fidelity or harmonize your self with the complex and intricate social stratification and take advantage out of it. It was so easy during American election to line up your leaning as your naïve political understanding of US coupled with a very filmy plot of one person coming out of 100 years of racial discrimination made Barack an obvious choice. In Bihar things are different. We don’t vote for change, we vote for status quo. We vote so because the “righteous” anti-establishment force of our state is too busy and engrossed in pontification and they don’t provide us with an option. Barack, now for me is much more than a Nobel laureate US president. He to me signifies the comfort we seek by not actually going through the pain of our political system but rather have a false sense of idealism. Come this December, We will have an important decision to make. But will that decision be right or wrong, this needs my immediate attention. Coz as a student of science, I know that a sense of right or wrong comes from a set of rules it adheres to. In realms of politics, it’s the idealism, the empirical formula which I haven’t found yet.

My Six Strings and million dollar...Rubbish

“You are at first down” these were the first words which I found was worth savoring. Yes, after umpteen months of looking at the field from third man and waiting for my turn
To bat up the order was finally there. I was out third ball, bowled, and it took me 3 more matches to finally bat again. For all those days at third man I made plan of how with one inning I will change the course of the game, but it never happened for 2 years I guess.20 odd runs and a catch I remember were my first heroic deeds. Till then talking of achievements I had straight A from school, couple of scholarship and many credentials which never gave the big O to me, my innings did. And after few more years of my cricketing career it was time to hang my boots. Did I??
STATUS- Failed.

I tried and was almost there. I was 11 but still I could have done better. My first poem was garbage, but for my first story I tried really hard. I read it and understood it was not meant to be told. I hated my English classes because I made too many grammatical errors ,had a limited vocabulary , couldn’t speak as good as my sisters and yes I wanted to sound sophisticated which I never could. Colonial hangover takes a bit long time, may be a life time but it was hard to escape from it. Coming back to my story it was about a boy who ran away, met three people, wrote three poems and came back. But it was tasteless, “English can never challenge Mathematics” I said, and moved on.

STATUS- Fugitive

“She is the second one” I proudly claimed to my friend, and I was 16. Yes ,she was only the second one who despite of being attractive by my predetermined and deeply researched parameters didn’t ended up in the bed by my naive figment of imagination. “She should be understood” said I and my friend laughed at me. I promptly used my F-word and then told of telling others about his fascination with our math’s teacher and it worked. “I need to talk”, said I and she is the only one I couldn’t speak to. What a shame, I am listening to Simon and Garfunkel number, Mrs Robinson, while writing this and I just can’t get her out of my mind. My math’s teacher off course

STATUS- Classified.

arbit

The door is getting unlocked I guess but then can’t it wait till I glean my thoughts….”hey I am finally showing mercy isn’t I” words came from outside. “Is it, really?” I said, tick of clock makes the reason so stronger, but then do I need this? What is stopping me…..Uncertainty, not really, may be a bit of inertia but Newton wasn’t a psychologist. “Hey, you attempted to break free ,you must be so happy now” came the voice, “yes I did, was I foolish” said I ,”certainly not all of them does the same”, that makes me part of crowd “sad” I said. “What did you do all the while?”The voice isn’t letting me concentrate on future, “why you want to know?”, “It will keep us occupied”
“who want to?” I thought; “nothing, there was no one to see me, so I was as good as naked”, “invisible you mean”, “no, not really, naked”.”hey, that is dangerous there would have been cracks in the adjoining walls” that jolted Me.” yes there were indeed, but no body was peeping through” too much of presumptions, hope they were true. “I am almost done here” glad was the voice, “so am I” not really sure of.