ONCE AGAIN I WRITE
IN ANGER AND DESPERATION
ITS FUNNY HOW I INDITE
QUICKLY SUCH BITTER CREATIONS

This time its my MTP
Which has kicked a low blow
I thought I had results
But now they're nothing to show

Hoping to finish it quick and easy
And go home this sweltering summer
But its just not meant to be
One more month I will suffer

Coz my membrane - or thats what I was told it was
Has now magicaly transformed
And closed up all its pores
After all the experiments Ive performed !

It sure took its time
And chose the final hour
To come up with its sublime
New contour!

Just check out the pics
And you will agree
That my MTP
Was never meant to be !!

Forlorn alone depressed and dejected
My blogspace lies ignored neglected
Seeking inspiration my well meaning intention
Now awaits some divine intervention

In wait for those creative juices to flow
Right now they do not seem to budge
I believe the correct approach now
Is to be treated to some heavenly hot chocolate fudge


Dont smile or smirk
Or point fingers at me
If Kafka could use some help
So can we
And chocolate is no mean job
Its the traditional Mayan drink for the gods !

So many people saying farewell
And getting sentimental over and over and over again
It makes me feel as guilty as hell
Coz I haven’t yet started feeling the same

After a whole week of
Sulking, brooding, moonin’ and mopin’
After a whole semester of
Waiting for that nostalgia start kickin’

It seems it didn’t really come so sudden after all ..
It has slowly seeped in and settled
And manifested itself in this default mode overall
Of well lets say ... a low energy level

When everything I look at
Is with a tiny sigh
And all the words I say
Are tinged with an inky black dye.

To all my friends who may complain
Of me being stone/ tin/ hollow hearted
Or "weirdly cheerful" most of the time
Let them know
That goodbyes and nostalgia
Aren’t really verbal or sublime

Most goodbyes in life are unsaid
In these times of mails, messengers, Orkuts and Skypes
Most goodbyes are silent & unobtrusive
Unseen and unwanted ... they tip toe into our lives

Phone calls turn into chats
Chats into orkut scraps
Scraps turn into mails
And mails turn into forwards so juvenile
That soon these forwards too seem futile..

And a day of silence
Turns into a short swift week
Then weeks, months and years pass by...
And one day suddenly we look around to see ...

The room empty of that old familiar face
And the echoes of unsaid goodbyes seem
To rush into your heart and leave an ache
That is when the real goodbyes have been said

Lucky for me
I write this when friends abound
Lucky for me
I dont like to turn around

If you don't know what this is about/ Check the previous blog's comments out

Raghav's is the comment to see
This is the answer to what he asked me

I dunno if my answer "makes more sense"
But I simply went for the experience
People say this and people say that
So I went to see
Whether IIM was all that
It was cut out to be.

They say curiosity killed the cat
And now it has killed me.

I prepared for two hours flat
I still don't know India's G.D.P.
Yet these are all excuses I know that
And all I can say is that I'm sorry.

This answer deserved a separate post
Because there is a need to emphasize
It's not an occasion to be proud or boast
And use IIM calls or jobs as a prize

We are all smart
(For IIT that is the underlying condition)
There is no point
In using jobs/ calls for peer recognition

Its all too idealistic
Im sorry to be so goody goody
But in our youth
Idealistic is the thing to be! :)

They giggle they laugh
And smile funnily
And then they congratulate me !!
People dont listen only !

If you dont believe me
Check out the comments
To the previous blog
By my so called friends!

One wants a treat 'program'
One lucknowi cuisine
One is obsessed with chocolate
The rest are just plain mean !

There are others that tell you
To be proud because
" So many haven't made it "
What great applause !

O cmon guys !
Baat sun to lo !!
Its about what I want
And NOT going with the flow!

Oh Damn! Crap! Fuckin Hell!?!/ Who on earth wanted a call from (IIM) L !?!!?

A *five minute* interview
Thats all I had
Now I've got a call
Are they freakin' mad ?

Forget the job
My parents say
What you need
Is an M.B.A.

Maybe that is
What I need
But for once let me
Choose the life I lead !

A backup of a backup
That was CAT for me
I should thank my stars it was L
Not A, B or C

Now I am
So crazy mad
That im composing
This verse so bad !

They'll "talk it over"
They say to me
The decision is always finally
always " up to me "

"Up to me" !!
My foot and a half !
Such hypocrisy
Nearly makes me laugh !

The only thing
That this hypocrisy will beat
Is the irony when people
Ask me for a treat !

Finally to end -
An apology
To all those who deserved and needed
This call more than me !

Who knows where I will be at the end of the day/ My thoughts wander in every way/ This is the status as of today …


Two best friends,
Morgan & Stanley dropped by
To talk to us of bonds & stocks and odds and ends
And give the Wall Street a try

On and on and on they talked
And the only thing I took with me
Was a well packed refreshment box
And the decision that I never want to be
Doing work for works sake
That all that I can say
Is “Look how we get payed!?”
And we teach people how to make
More money from the money they have
And then use that all over again
To make some more and increase their gain
And all the while take a slice from the cake.

How drab and dry
How linear and un bent
Where do I come in? Fie!
Where is the human element?
Will I be lost in a dark suit
Tapping away at a keyboard
Till my eyes pop out and fingers fall off?
(Believe me Ive heard of this stuff!!)
To walk blind all my years -
With no hands Ill depend on my ears
And listen to all the other blind folks
Who unbeknownst to them are tied to the same yoke?

I guess the talk did good in the end
A full dinner (chips, patty and sandwiches)
On the breezy MS roof and then
A decision to not be blinded by hollow riches
Quite a bit of work for the day
Lets see how long it keeps its sway!

First things first ...

For her love laughter strength and support
And all the other stuff that can't be bought with money
I dedicate my rhyme and this blog
To my little sister Shivani

Its been a since I've shown/ The world what I have been/ Pondering in my silence alone...

This weekend dragged home
By force. Pampered silly by maternal concerns
And prodded by paternal pokes
I lock myself in my old room alone
And stare at the wall - which stares back at me in turn
And repeats the questions that worried my folks.

The past month of sinister silence
The long hours of brooding
Into restless nights - "Its been quite a month"
They say, " What have you in your defense?"
And mother suggests a bite of pudding
While I reply in grunts

Such was the state of affairs
I realized how long this silence has been
I guess its time to speak andshare
Lest my manners turn more porcine.

As the second half of this decade began
The threshold led to new doors
TnP played Khulja Sim Sim and
We were to make the scores

As I wait for my time to leave
I fill it with friends, music, movies & levity
A month passed then two then three
Now fourth... I am sick of this velapanti

My search for rhyme rhythm and reason
Came to stop in pages of a book
The author (then unknown) and his poetic liaisons
Had now caught me line sinker and hook

Now …
For rhythm I listen to Burman Sr.
(Any offense to rock and metal lovers
Is regretted)

For rhyme I choose my own to endear,
Thus I begin to write INVERSE
(Pun intended)

Reason – now that’s a great deal trickier
The elusive, disperse, inverse and adjointed
I may write tomes and still be out of reach
So I leave it to Him to guide me as this blog is indited.