Saturday, April 16, 2011

I can't survive

As the time struck 11,
I wished my luck was even,
Cause from the day she left,
I have been living in a debt,
I always tell, ‘So what if she’s not there?’,
But the truth is that there is only regret.

That day when I went to school,
My gut splendored that something will ruin my noon,
I walked right to her,held her arms and told her, ’I missed you’,
But the frown reflected, I had everything to lose,
‘It’s over.’ Was what she replied,
My hands dropped, and a tear rolled down my cheeks.

It was too soon to end,
I never wanted it to end,
Standing on the corner of the hallway,
Was trying to remember it all the way,
For I went wrong somewhere,
To  make her say, ‘we are nowhere’.

Living now was a punishment,
Every second the pain rejuvenates,
The loss is quite more than I can handle,
I don’t know where and when I’ll topple,
But there is something in me telling me to stay,
Telling me, ‘There’s still hope in the gray.’

 As the sun sets, and night befalls,
Another days gone in the hope of recall,
But the pain that resides inside,
Is quite a homicide,
I’m losing it all,
Cause I can’t survive like this at all..

Monday, April 11, 2011

A Tribute

A day in the year,
Maybe 91 for what I hear,
I was born to her,
A week before Christ to Mary,
For I lay in her arms,
With no fear of harm,
As I sleep in her front,
 The moon surrenders to Erebrus’ son.

I grew a toddler,
I know now how a troubler,
For what I did was indubitable,
But her frown was what was unseeable,
I grew a preschooler,
A naught little fooler,
Always ready to surrender,
The burden for her to tender,

I went to college,
And I loved the bad knowledge,
To forgo her love,
And live in dreams of someone else’s dove,
I knew it was bad,
But the pot was so clad,
That it sunk the feeling,
 That a child had.

I said, ‘Leave me I have my dream to fulfill!’,
And without the slightest frown she let me free,
As I wandered through the path of my dream,
I started losing the sight of her loving frame,
At that time what felt right,
is now the biggest regret of my life.

Now I own a home,
A luxurious one to caress my moans,
But as I sit in this sinthy house,
My mind wanders like a moose,
For now I understand what was it that took me here,
Cause I have lost my own attitude to my peers’,
The love, the care, that the world strives for,
was once so nigh,
But I let it slip through my fingers,
Regretting now for the slumber…

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Manhattan Dreams Chapter 2

So I tried to do different things- from writing songs and then realizing that it wasn’t even good enough to write a few rhyming words to trying to read and understand the concept o relativity so that I could understand why  in particular Stephen Hawking said that going to the future is possible. But the tasks at hand were too difficult for an unskillful person like me. Although I did understand a little bit of relativity but in order to be famous in the field of science you need to build or write some theories on, of which none I felt I was capable of doing. So leaving everything aside I made a fool proof plan of studying hard, get into MIT and pursue engineering from there and finally do my MBA from Strandford which would enable me to slowly climb the ladder to the post of CEO in an MNC. So you might be thinking on how this boy lived without a place he loved to live or spend time in. Well I am deprived of home love but I too had place where I found solace, McDonald’s restaurant. It was a place where I could meet new people with new thoughts on every new order I took or every new dish I handed to a customer. Also working with me was a 15 year old boy named Joe. He was 5 feet 6 inch tall guy, who quite looked like Mr. Bean with his curly hair and thick eyebrows. But he wasn’t as dumb as Bean rather he was really intelligent. His vocabulary could even give Wodehouse a chase for money. His life wasn’t as miserable as mine. He had come from Michigan, didn’t have parents who would love to hover over you. It was something so that his life was all I wanted to live. But everyone comes with his own destiny.
Joe also had plans for joining the MIT but his interest was to do research so obviously he had to pursue plain science. But to tell the truth he had already started the preparations for his future studies. He had already begun solving complex algebra problems and also been trying to proof something on his own. More to say he had software which could decipher the original voice that has been used for recording without all the sort of adulterations that they do to make the voice more clinical. So, new artists were judged by us on the basis of their original voices and not on the soundtrack. In short Joe could do things that trained professionals were able to do.  
Our lives were opposite but same. He too worked at the Donald’s and at the same time slot in which I worked. So in the essence of it we developed quite a good friendship. We regularly used to talk on the phone when there was a long weekend or a long period of break in our meeting. He was a person I looked up to. As you might have noticed that I was a person with very less or actually only one friend till now but Joe on the other hand had a huge friend list. So even if I didn’t talk or pay attention to his words it never mattered to him but the contrary was always hurting. It stabbed me to death. But life has to move and with that so have we.
It was the last year in the school. As I entered the room there was a kid with thick glasses resting on his nose sitting on the last corner bench while the others were giggling and doing stuffs that regular teens would do. Seeing him sitting lonely in the corner I reached him and sat beside him. No soon did I sit his jolly voice with the slight amount of croak which made it a voice to die for squeaked,
‘Hi, I am Nathan.’
‘Well hello. I am Jack. It’s nice meeting you. So you are new in this school?’
The yes in his voice was so low that I could feel how lonely he felt here. He looked like an interesting person but by the curse of my nature I cannot befriend people too fast.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Manhattan Dreams Chapter 1

Change is the essence of life. But change is not always willing. It was afternoon in Manhattan when I walked through the roads of the city. My ears blazing with the loud music that spilled through my headphones.
 I exclaimed at the incoming taxi which would drive me home; a place which wasn’t the place I would like to be. But to the ultimate disgust it was something that was inevitable. I was seventeen and I didn’t grow enough funds through the part time job I did at McDonalds to move to another house. It was a place where expecting something to be right was totally wrong. As the taxi cornered near downtown the sick look of the house came into view. The house was quite big to accommodate a dozen of people but small and mean to accommodate my parents and me together. Our relationship was something that was like a magnet with like poles facing each other- the more you try to make them come close the more they rebuff with a magnified force. But stressing it all out I entered the house. The door cranked open. No one had ever thought about oiling it. Everyone in this house was so engrossed in proving me wrong and subduing me that other matters felt undistinguished.
I threw my bag on the red couch that lay in the hall. Striding into the kitchen I opened the fridge and found a chicken burger and some coke. Gulping down the coke I swallowed the vapid burger. You always loose the attraction from the thing which you deal with everyday. So burgers were something occupying the last place on the I-need-to-eat list. But America was a place which seemed to live itself upon it.
The door again cranked open and my foster dad who married my mother in the winter of ’07 entered. The days when I remembered myself with my daddy, I think I relished the best love and care that one could receive from their family. But as I said earlier change is not always wiling and after they got divorced my mother married this jerk named David Seagul. Or in other words Mr. Dork.
‘What is this Jack? How many times do I have to tell ya’ not to throw your stuff on the couch? It is not a place to throw things around.’
His icky mouth just couldn’t stop littering the place with his filthy words that always codded me. His Okie accent was the other thing that pissed me off. With the ultimate disgust and an expressionless face I picked up my bag and walked towards my room putting my headphones on so that my ears wouldn’t face detriment from the blabbering the dork was making. My cell phone and my novels were the only things in the house that could give me the solace a normal teenager would seek. So actually you would find me on my headphones all the time while reading a book- which sounds absurd but that’s how I read a book.
F.Y.I I always carry a book with me whether it be the Donald’s or to school. I am so addicted to the novels that I could hardly imagine myself without them during the free hours.
Why would it have to be this way? I am not that bad to be turned down by god, but by heaven’s sake I had to go through all this. My dork dad and my tuned mom would never allow me to be the person I wanted to become. I had always wished to do something different than what other teens usually do. I wanted to be a standout. It’s not that my peers in schools call me aliens as I live in a world that they believe that only morons could live. It never scathed to find my acquaintances to mock at me when I am around them. I have been dealing with such treatment since I had to part with my father and had to accept the dork. It hardly matters to me when people call me jerk or a geek in front of girls so that they would never really get into me. I don’t know if I looked good or handsome but the boys around me would always try to overshadow me in front of the chicks. The only reason I survived the school was that I could grasp the syllabus quite well and that I was successful in defeating all of the kids in the exams. But that hardly ever made sense. All I wanted to become was famous and a little wealthy so that all the love which is so foreign to me would endear me with open arms.

to be continued....

Friday, April 1, 2011


It was Friday, last day of the college for the week, a happy day to enjoy with my friends and prepare down the line for the upcoming weekend. I boarded the bus that would take me to the railway station, and as usual headphones pinned right into my ears spilling my favorite music that rejuvenated me even at 2 am in the night when I have to sit for completing my delayed assignments. (FYI I always push the much need things for tomorrow and trust me tomorrow never comes.) The cool breeze blew over the droplets of sweat that dotted my forehead leaving behind a sensation of eternal bliss in this polluted city of Mumbai.
With the bus slowly breaking its way to a steady halt, I rose from the seat of the bus and descended the stairs of the bus and no sooner did I put my first step on the ground that a beggar with his stuff to impress appeared and started pestering me to give him money. Although I have felt that these people should be helped as it’s the bad time of their life that they are living but I also firmly believe that giving money to someone who can do physical work and earn money would be wrong on my part. In this case the beggar was a 30 yr old young chap. So even though he sounded all hungry and stuff I refrained from giving him money.
But to his luck, right beside me stopped a Merc and as the perfectly tinted window lowered did someone put his/her hand out of it to give the beggar a hundred smackaroonies. (My style of expressing money!) Smile springing up the face of the beggar, he left me and walked away. Of course, it’ll be wrong if I say I wouldn’t be happy to receive a hundred rupees from my parents for no reason.
But there was something more that somehow saddened me. I always had wished to be rich. Rich people had always fascinated me, but being devoid of that pleasure I had always cursed my fate for not making my dad a Bill Gates. My nature was to complain always for the stuff I didn’t possess and other did, for I felt that fate always played a biased role at my turn.
With these thoughts swimming in my brain I walked mechanically to the FOB in the railway station that would take me to the platform where I would catch my train. It was usual for everyday that I never cared to see where I walked into. But today was different.
As I climbed half the fleet of stairs did some stick touch my foot, and a voice from behind looking away for me directed the words, ‘Sorry’ towards me. The person was blind and was finding his way out of the crowded staircase to reach his desired platform. I turned behind and caught his hand as he tried to divert himself from me and said,
‘Sir, let me help you take you to the platform.’
I should tell you but I know that it’s hard for you to believe that the smile that I saw in his eyes was worth a billion dollars. Today I heard the most true and beautiful ‘thank you’ that I ever heard as he surrender his navigation to me.
As we climbed up the stairs we exchanged out names and the place where we were going but before I left him I asked my inquisition out.
‘Sir, don’t you feel sad for what fate has given you?’
His answer was short,
‘Well you certainly need to visit once the handicap compartment o find your answer.’
At first I felt that this man didn’t get what I meant, but as he boarded the handicap compartment I looked around to find people in much worse state trying to get inside the compartment. Some with polio while some with amputated legs/hands. Looking at them the blind seemed to be at a better position, but then it hit me, wasn’t it that I was more gifted that any of those people. Wasn’t I in a better state that the blind man.
 The realization hit me like lightning as my body felt shivers that I was the one who was cursing about fate but was now feeling that the blind man was better. Why did I never realize this before that I was in a better state than most of the people around me? I always looked for happiness that had to be thrusted upon me, but I had never sought it.
 Now as my eyes are open I find happiness in every nook and corner of where I am. The words of the man gave my life a new meaning to live for. Till now I lived for living, now I lived for happiness and trust me the latter is much better.
Happy Living!!!