Scratch

Days shall go on, the path shall wind its course
Disease shall flow in there would be no recourse
Tears will run dry sorrow would know no end
Pain will be easiest to comprehend
Like a prison with walls too high and the window with a view to nowhere
Look in the mirror back at you not yourself but emptiness would stare

You had it coming someone did say right
Creeping you would go in the dead of the night
Into alleys dingy dreary n dark
Come out with just a mark
A gash on the arm with a tourniquet tied around
Scream you would for your feet wont feel the ground

High was a state and the stakes too
All along you thought you knew
For it was an Itch you did Scratch
To take a swig, one small whiff, you just lit a match
And caught is your world and of those who cry
For those who walk these roads dont live or die

They live inbetween in suspended animation
Not masters of their fate but prisoners of their own creation
Craving for that pinch of the needle with not IV but crack
The road you are on you aint coming back
Scratch no more that itch for you're consumed
By what you consumed and assumed

Would be a one time thing and not blind desire
Dont tell me its Wood thats buring this cant be a pyre
"Too young to die"people tell them with folded hands
As there is but your nothingness to pick the strands
Pain is our prison and through the window we stare
Its not you its not you thats not there...

Missing the bus...

Terry: You don't understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum... On the Waterfront, Marlon Brando 

Lifes seldom about second chances, its not always that you could hop on again once u got off. Here I aim not to reflect on myself and who I am or not how I proverbially missed the bus, had opportunities staring at me and ended up being too lazy to see them there, but I just write to ponder over where it all went horribly downhill.
Lets face it, I am a hedonist, a couch potato, a slouch, I have aims that get defeated and deflated before the light of the day, I dream with a notion and a desire and have it all misfire before it gets conjured into a plan. I live each day in a daze, I expect some inner call to come in wake me up, shake me up and make me achieve all I dream of. I have always been like that, subconsciously aware of my shortcomings and my mistakes but consciously avoiding efforts towards setting things right. Sometimes when all it takes is to wake up and smell the coffee I avoid breathing so to speak... But what is the genesis of this??? Have things been this easy for me? Or am I just a victim of favorable consequences? Also If I was to have some epiphany how would lifes course alter?
I hope that its written someplace with the first line being "IT all started... " you know more like a book of answers... I have often looked within to spot the talent in me, what sets me apart, what makes me different but apart from my incredibly good looks (NOT) and my charming persona (NOT) I have come up with nothing, nothing that separates me. Not that talent makes you a somebody, not that not having it robs you of anything, just that it gives me an excuse to while away further. But the bottomline still remains... what now? What next? Todays inspiration was served by tikkatandoori... what will inspire me tomorrow to better what is keyed in today? Will life be just the same... monotony layered with monotony or will I find the right amount of nothing to mix with life to make somethingout of it? Or will I continue to stare at the bus long gone by and imagine what could have been? What If I cracked IIM L or maybe XLRI? What if I never attempted the two extra questions in quant? What if I read the GMAT OG end to end without stopping midway? What if I had one poori less today or walked 10 mins more? What if...

Through here until the infinite...
In wishes in hopes in flight...
As I attempt to leap
And forget to keep
The alarm set to awake
And forget to take
The risk that comes along
And thus find the wrong
Door ajar again
Leap now to comfort not pain
As in repose I sleep
Forgetting the miles to walk and promises to keep...

unsure...

I used to write... it was a passion once, and I had imagined getting consumed by the quest to learn, experience and write. In interviews and all whenever someone would ask me my hobby I would go on to say reading and writing, and to the next obvious question as to what I did write pat would come the reply Poetry. Nope I was no poet, just someone who figured a rhyme scheme and words that further rhymed, put 2 n 2 together and strung and soliloquy at times worth print, at times trash but yet it gave me freedom and yes it was worth saying in those interviews.
Been ages since I put pen to paper or keys to a word doc and poured words out in a coherent and meaningful text, maybe its got to do with the fact that there is far too little time and far too much that needs done, or maybe this is just an excuse. Maybe the reason is that I am too judgmental of my own written text than I was earlier, or maybe I am the poet who can pen a broken hearts tale than a happy hearts paean. Regardless of the reason this restless mind and aimless soul needs a stirring, one of note and one that gets the juices flowing again, or maybe I need to stop killing time in things that dont count for nothing and concentrate on what matters. Do what makes me happy...

batman...

Life is a composite of certain infallible truths... there are decisions and regrets based on those decisions that plague our lives.. this for one is not a self assessment and thus an entry filled with stories of what all has and is going wrong...this is just me trying to interpret what its like being a superhero...everytime i see a superhero flick the kid inside me wakes up toying with the idea of  self mutation/deprivation/space travel/gamma exposure and the like to basically transmogrify (calvin like) into my alter ego... akin to stupendous man...
Now this is in itself is far fetched I know but then again that is not the point why I started typing, what I do wanna discuss is superheroes... the ones that are not the me that is not...Batman by far (in his current avatar and thanks to christopher nolan) is the one I admire the most and its not because of his hoarse tone... its not because The Joker made the dark knight what it was... its more so cuse of the dark inner side he has... the genesis of his being is somewhat similar to spiderman... a common thief/street urchin laying to waste a somewhat perfect life... and thats when the story differs... Batman makes himself who he is by sheer willpower and loads of gymtime... and unlike superman/spidey/x men/green lantern etc he became the vigilante the protector... so every wound every scratch leaves its mark. the people he takes on are not in the same class as maybe the goblin or the sand man or as influential as lex luthor. But they pack a punch... the Joker, Dr freeze, the riddler, two face r not your average joes... n they are menacing, but Bane is by far the deadliest. Joker as essayed was a portrayal of a mad man... Bane is a mad menace and his superhuman strength makes him a vicious tyrant.

So in a fudged attempt to hide my disappointment over the spidey redux version I now start the countdown to July 20th... when the final chapter of batmans yet illustrious career gets written... In a world beset by inequities and full of individuals who rather see it burning I wait for the dark knight to rise and step forth to claim the crown of the superhero we await adore and love so much...

step e

With ambulatory movements suggestive of a flogged dead horse making its way to the gallows I arrive at my seat post lunch... lunch in itself hasnt been kind of late, food bears a repulsive look for the green of a grass blade no matter how alluring is not at all food, but nonetheless I am eating healthy.

Work and working with airtel is killing, I am done and bugged with being here and doing the same thing every day, yup air money is a change but yet again its the same rut and same mindset you get caught up in, but yes i have a dream now... there is something i do aspire for and no its not unassisted human flight anymore. Having read Steve Jobs and about apple I am back at dreaming about getting a job there, google was always on the list and now there is apple as well... so to be there a plan is being formalised...
a. Quit airtel
b. Prepare for GMAT
c. Get a score (700+)
d. Get into a B schood
e. Hope (now this is where the issue lies) apple n google pick me...

step a may or may not be a part of the overall schema but still getting to point e is a target that will not be compromised with..

end of an era...

tonight... its not about the departed... the ones who farted.. the ones who lived/died... the moments that lied... its about the song that dont remain... the same and it does pain... to know tomorrow the black heart sun... will no longer know the one... who once was the one within and not without... the end of an era beyond the shadow of a doubt... :(

Life has flipped, tripped and fallen I have in an abyss, and nope it aint sadness/grief/remorse that has befallen my pedantic state.. its just that things have changed and people around me have changed to and they changed far too much for me to catch up...
does it matter? its a pertinent question for what has befallen is not a recondite, and infallible yet reprehensible memory that i cant repress... its just that the ones close 2 me are far away... and yet i feel i could be the one responsible... but yet i could be the one without... so what am i losing out on? Company? Gossip? A chance to network? Naah.. am losing on a brady bunch i called my own... people have moved... there have been weddings/departures changes... some elevated to thrones they dont look down from some fallen far 2 deep in the crests of failures they cant look up from... so is my failure reproaching me from approaching the ones i trusted?
OR is it just a mere coincidence that my moments of fortitude and goodwill amongst those i loved was just a mere coincidental fallacy that was so well amalgamated with my will to be happy... and now that sadness has engulfed my being, i find myself alone... and not so sure whether my happiness was but a dream or just a mere conjured image of a happy me that will never be... or are these just emotions than any drunk unsure soul shall be filled with when not called/waited/fed... or are these unfulfilled desires to be the part of whats lost? I do feel lost somewhat... but tomorrow the rum wont remain and the gumm within shall disappear...

dont drink and drive...

Its an inglorious adventure... a fools errand... an attempt at the impossible... I ahve been foolhardy forthright... i have tried all in my might... but you, you are but a statuette... cast in shimmering gold... ur heart not be beseeched by all i have unerringly told... my life is incomplete... a sonnet that has no verse... a misty mighty pause... yet I know... I know that its an uncouthed yearning for an unviable end... its a heart that beats a bit 2 fast... knowing the moment wont last... knowing that the few moments spent with you shall have to last a life for you got no time for a no good nobody that I am... just a blur in your everyday... a speck in the dust you wipe of your feet... but here i am writng what was to be a prose is yet not a poem wnt be nothing more than a tore down unseen unread attempt at finding meaning of my ever non existant meaningless life... i still search for your presence in my dreams, not that i don’t dream of you but yet there are dreams in which I am dying you see... and i wish to see you sitting next 2 me... but I have to incept what fails to exist... for i am a dreamer and as i am writing this from me 2 u i know this will never reach its end or to the person its intended for... i know no reason as to why you should or I can have you read it out... but yet i go on in the middle of the night harping away on a notion a whim and a fancy... hoping you notice I am awake...