Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Black in the Grey- Our Story

Its been a while since I did grasp

This old pen that belongs to me

And fumbled, just as with your clasp,

Attempting to spew poetry.

Oh yes, nubile, prospective love,

In order to extract pity

I wrote line past line just reeking of

Teenage sentimentality

I pour out my heart ,I rave and rant

Pen what I think appeals to you

And borrow phrases from Nietzsche and Kant

Oh, hell, why not, I'll use 'em too!

And thus I hope to replicate

Fruition formulaic you see

But going at your snailpace rate,

You’re already but boring me.

Shall I sink now like ne’er before

To deplorable planes of contempt

To despair, should I now resort?

Describe my suicide attempt?

The warning bells do hint alarm

Don’t talk about your fucking ex!

Succumb to my apparent charm!

Reward me with gratuitous sex!

So are you then just dumb as hell,

Or perspicacious beyond belief?

To see past my beguiling, complex shell,

Oh end my misery and grief!

Don’t make me say that I love you

I’m a commitmentphobic sociopath.

Oh wait, Success! Third base will do,

Time now for the disappearing act.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007


"......riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.".... The opening sentence of James Joyce's Finnigan's wake, which completes the last sentence of the same book.The device is a grammatical representation of the cyclic theory of history Joyce proclaimed in his masterpiece.We never change;.The same story, with different names,nationalities and beliefs, but same nonetheless,History repeats in altered settings;caste attrocities with a role reversal become affirmative action,still settling for the provided minimum,still proud of a 2000 year old culture that is somehow prone to being corrupted by violence and sex on screen,still getting Math Board papers checked by Hindi professors,Don gets a pair of oakleys and a Saville Row suit,"Kaliyon ka Chaman" gets a gyrating babe lip syncing through the dhinchak beats...Don't get me wrong....I'm not complaining;All of this inspires me.Really.I love this place.I love this smell,the redolence of freedom, I love the tearspassiondespairhope of life. And make no mistake; my generation is a cynical one, and i'm not a leader or the official scribe; I'm just a representative.But isn't it time to break away from convention?Just like history repeats itself like a record player playing backwards;in greater diameter...Things get larger, more exaggerated, more profane with every successive generation.Elvis's polemical gyrations caused just as much ado in the 60s as Eminem's lyrics did in the 21st century.Evolution, you may call it.The world needs a large, violent explosion to snap out of its reverie, and this time, the effectors of that explosion shouldbe YOU! YOU godforsaken little miserable souls living out your miserable little lives, slaves to consumerism.Thats right, I MYSELF am not the ticking bomb;I'm just the alarm clock.-Bhavivakta P.

Saturday, March 03, 2007


"You know, I think that if i hadn't confronted you today, and if I hadn't accosted you despite you blatantly ignoring me, this idiotic fight may never have got resolved. Both of us would have gone on to lead our respective lives, and i think we'd have done just fine.But maybe someday, ten years down the line, you'd actually remember me and maybe feel a twinge of regret, but you'd say, whatthehellitwassolongago, and THAT, Neeru Chauhan, is the biggest tradegy in your life."

I spoke these words to her on the 22nd of 'february, 2007.That evening, I got a message from her:
A wish in a corner, deep in my heart,to be friends forever, and never be apart,Hope this bond has a long life to live,trust is the only thing that i can give....Dont worry meri zindagi me ek tradegy nahi hogi aur wo ye hai 10 yrslater mein pachtaongi nahee....galtee ek baar hui par ab nahi...I'll never lose you...I'm sorry nikhil! :-,(

On the 24th of February, at about six P.M, ,we spoke again.I remember the conversation, not because it was the longest or the most pleasant one we had, but because it was the last.she was in a hurry, and promised she would call later.

Dearest :-,) [My pal Neeru],
I honeslty don't know what to write.There are so many things left unspoken, so many things left undone. I never thought i would lose my best friend.I can't believe this is happening. Even when I first heard about the accident, i was so sure thatyou just had minor injuries or something. I was making plans to come look you up on Sunday and when Rama told me about it later,I prayed to God.I tried to calm down.I tried calling up everybody I knew.
I can;t believe you're gone , and i don't want to.I have few friends, and you know much you mean to me. I reallycan't imagine life without you. It feels incomplete and jaded. I don't want to come back here ever again.It's too painful.I can't even begin to imagine the pain your parents feel right now, and I'm really sorry for them. I'm sorry for every stupid thing I said, and everytime I made fun of you.I'm sorry for telling you that you stood no chance against me in the lecture competition. I was joking( and you knew that then too). I'm so happy thati got the chance to make up with you and be friends again. I can't imagine what I would have felt like had we partedon sour terms or not made up.
I miss you every waking moment. Are you in heaven, or have you disintegrated into oblivion? I don't know, but either ways, you ARE with me.All the time. I feel your presence. I don't know if I'm imagining it, and I don't care how insanely stupid I sound.There is still one thing that needs to be completed. You know what it is.And I promise you that I will do it.Be talking to u......
Your best friend,

Saturday, February 10, 2007


You think up a novel idea, one that can help people, and run into a wall of corporate bureaucracy .
You project a certain result for a research, say 'chalk', but you end up making cheese.
You are taught to celebrate Alexander Fleming and William H Perkins as models of Scientific excellence, when their discoveries(Penicillin and Mauve, the worlds first synthetic dye respectively) were accidental.
You read an Ayn Rand novel, and are overwhelmed by the integrity of the protagonist.
You list her among your favourite authors on Orkut.
You think you know what integrity is.
You actually think you possess it.
You don't.
You have no idea.
You probably don't what the world does to people with unadulterated integrity.It rapes them.
You probably have at some point in your life surrendered to the world,ignored your integrity.
You probably don't even remember it.
You want to do research, and so to get into a decent MSc program, you must study 12th Standard material.Yes, nothing on the kind of research you want to do, but 12th standard material.
You score 1510 on the GRE but theres another bureaucratic hurdle to cross; ur too young.
You think about doing a Roark, going to Remotesavia and working there, but they wont finance you, or pay you,and they'll make you write a research proposal on Stem Cell biology and make you develop Biofertilizers instead.
Your SOP was so good, somebody else did the same thing 8 years back, and actually made 15 million blings off it. Now there is no way for TIFR recruiters to distinguish between you and some halfwit Shudra who copy pasted the same article off the internet.
You start to have a superiority complex over people from the reserved category, which is sad because that is an insult to some of the smart people who happen to fall into the same . But on the other hand, you cant help noticing that 99% of them are truly dumb and intellectually challenged. You then begin to ponder upon a genetic reason for this .
You start out writing an article on integrity, but end up writing on the reservation system.


The fuzzy silhouette of a cloud
upon a sky so blue
Assumes a familiar shape,
And makes me think of you,

Just like one sanctimonious,
wont admit what may be true,
You know I hate to say this but,
This poems overdue.

Our friendship is all gone now,
Drifts further every day,
It could've gone out in blinding flash
But it chose to fade away.

The way you supported me,
Through every loss and gain,
I'll never trust another friend
THAT same way again..

Thursday, November 16, 2006

City Lights.

He lay back on the backseat of the car, as it sped along the highway. The bright street lamps formed two long, flowing streams of orange that moved in the opposite direction."Lookit that," he said.Even to himself, he sounded intoxicated, even though he knew he wasn't.
There is something comforting about the night in a big city. The dullhotlifelessness of the day gives way to the cool, bright city spirit; something born out of the nothingness of the souls she contains within, but alive with feeling nonetheless.
"Janaki's getting married, said Harsh, the driver,nonchalantly, but he couldnt smooth the edge off his tone, Jit looked away from the orange light-serpents, and said ,"Oh.Its hardly been any time,hasn't it?" and felt stupid immediately as the words left his mouth."Too, bad,",he thought, "I guess she never belonged to you in the first place." His thoughts wandered to the office, the hot chick in the lift,the crack cocaine that could have had him intoxicated at that very instant.Harsh was silent, and had begun to accelerate, gently weaving through the traffic. They reached The Main Square, and the lights of the shops alluringly beckoned the passerbys to buy THEIR tvs,THEIR clothes,THEIR condoms."Fuck you,thought Jit,"All of you,I love each and every fuckin one of you!"Giant Mickey Mouse smiled and unsmiled periodically.
"I'm putting on too much weight, thought Harsh I'd make a God Damned workout schedule, but God knows I'm not going to follow it.So whats the point? "I guess Janaki and her boyfriend are celebrating with champagne....Chardonnay or Pinot Noir, I wonder...?"A Fiat Uno sped past them."If you ain't got no money, honey I got your disease.."Axl Rose trailed off.
"If I asked you to kill me, would you do it?"
Jit looked up."What did you say?", all trace of intoxication gone."Nothing,Jit,just nothing..."said Harsh.
Jit lay back down, and kept glancing at Harsh periodically,unsure of what to say.
"This is my life",thought Harsh, and drove on.

Monday, November 13, 2006


Aneurism, in my head,
Pounding rythhm, kills me dead.
Kill my pain,it wont end,
Not again,it wont mend.
Cut went deep,broke my heart,
I can't sleep,fell apart.
God help me,so confused,
Feel so angry, and so used.
Dont stand there;just observe
i'm laid bare, don't deserve.
Blood is warm, flows in spurts,
Does me harm, does me hurt.
Aneurism,in my head,
Pounding rythm,kills me dead.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Kryptik's dreams

Kryptik's dreams Note: All posts have no connection with whats happening in my life.They are all products of my imagination.

Don't look back.

The room was artificially heated.It was the kind of winter night that makes one feel cold, yet comfortable.He, however felt all the blood rush to his face,making him flush."I must say,letting go of you has been like swallowing a vanilla essence bottle seal, and just like the bottle seal, i couldn't do it."
He looked up, and couldn't decipher her expression."I'm happy that you're happy, thats all that matters.....Do you know,when my mother dropped me off at the hostel for the forst time,she was pretty sad,I mean, ive never seen her cry before...It was pretty shocking, and as I begun to ask what was wrong,she said,"Go,don't look back."Thats all.As I turned to walk away to my room,I saw out of the corner of my eye that she was still weeping silently.But I walked on, and I never looked back.."
"Why are you telling me all this?", she said.
"I mean I know its the only way to get rid of the pain, but I'd rather live with it.....I have to,its all about the choices we make, isn't it?",he continued,sounding dazed and distant,yet loud."I have enloyed the best times of my life with you, and the happiest, but then you fell out of love with me.. just like that.But when you left , and the dust had cleared, i realised that the happiness was still there!Surprising? I then realised that my happiness was MY response to you; not what you brought into my life.I was responsible for it, not you.But I must thank you for introducing me to it.Thank you so much.I shall forever be indebted to you."
He produced a bundle of letters,carefully encased in bubble wrapping."These are your letters and photos.I don't own them anymore.He put the packet down on the table.He held out his hand.She took it, and he gave it a firm and warm shake."Goodbye, goodluck, and Godbless", he stated in a monotone, got up, and walked out.He didn't wait to look back at her.
Thw wind was cold outside.It bit into his skin, and made it easy for the tears to flow out.Barely able to control them, he walked on,oblivious to the world,disconsolate but upright,miserable but resolute, and didn't look back.