the last few minutes ...

As I wait for my workstation to be done for today, I keep looking at the time and every minute takes hours. Sometimes I feel I should be paid by the minute instead of the per day. In that case the last few minutes should yield me more money than the rest of the time. But suddenly I realize that this isn't a specific thought. This thought is as varied as the humanity and is diveresed throughout humanity irreespective of time and ages. Everyone feels the same thing and everyone falls into the iterative grasp for the last few minutes which just won't pass away when we need it to be ticking away the most. Its not that I have some important work to do or I 'want" to go some place, but the last minute makes the most emotions out of me. I attempted to defend this powerful thing that might make me irate as I wrote down patiently a lame poem in the last minutes of working at my desk.

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Oh! What a wonderful life; cuckoo though as it is,
Did the therapist know of even random moments?
The last minutes, the unbearable and exciting last minutes;
Yeah my friend of everything that you could list......

May be even from when you were a baby - the waiting in mother's wombs,
Waiting for the last minute to be shot out of the impecable relation
Or when u thought u were going back to home from school - yes the last minutes,
tored by unrest, anexiety and waiting for some non-important recreation ...

They could count to almost good- those so many last minutes of my life
When I waited for the school bell, when i waited to the end of a lecture;
The labs, the enourmous queues, the meetings and the orientations,
The waiting for public transport when i could see the bus - Oh the adventures!!! .....

Now am a grown man, despite what they say and I have grown patient;
Tied by duties and routines & strengthened by attributes;
It’s imaginative and interesting but it’s not that roaring,
But still I do a disgruntled roar with the same unrest and anexiety while working in the last minutes....

Fear

Fertile falasy, falsifying fancy;
for the fantasy of future fall,
find I never the fruit or freedom,
forever and ever of the freefall.

flora and fauna, fox and feline,
the flake on the mountains and the fountains,
make me feel the feelings of fine,
fail to fell the frowned and tense.

fire to flame and flame to fame;
the famished face of love and fond,
the absolute fuck ups and the faltered finds,
takes me for a famine foamed.

fecundity of my frosted fashion,
faltered nature and my forefathers,
all to defame and fallion,
and the final funeral, so be it rather.

Retreat

The silver attire, the mighty collar, the black coat and the dark hat;

All the glances, all the looks, that they prevent, my heart,

My golden desire, even as if a destitute;

I never meant it, I never wanted it, all these to defend but I am there mute.

As if the city will fall to my feet and ask me for my meet;

Know I live in dreams not, for what its worth, neat.

Far from forgiveness and far from insanity;

Oh mighty thy, why you put me in such a reality?

‘Thy’ my imaginary appraisal, I blame ‘thy’ for chattering;

For I feel afraid and lonely, so I have ‘thy’ over me scattering,

Oh! How fearsome is this, that I am not scared to fall;

The wind here is severe and my mansion stands tall.

I am not afraid to roam and I am not afraid to live;

But the fear that makes me afraid is the figment of what I have to give,

“Didn’t I give all my bids, all that I cared, didn’t I lose?”

But this postulating movie has still more to muse.

“Am I in that movie; am I the star, the silver spoon and the jaguar?”

Yes I am the star, I am the crowd and I am that tough guar;

For I can outlive this scorching desert, though I can’t take the water;

Even I can’t drink the rain; I can pick the drops later.

I am thirsty and parched a little; in all these time a little brittle;

No I don’t moan but a vain that I might whittle;

To self destruction, insanity and remembering the bird,

Yes the bird, which can beak inside me as I heard.

Was that, insane, blind, betrayed, envied, arrogance so foolish?

Was that so or am I just being ghoulish?

wow ...

bob dylan - like a rolling stone songs
Free Music | free Mp3

quest ..

my queer intelligence is delaying me here ... sort of startled and unlit ... a goof of all times ... the rules has been set in opposition as i find it ... quite funny actually ... anyways .. to take my mind off I think to write my self a lil story ... there are thousands and i am sure every single one of them is really good ....its like mumbai has given me wheels ... quite fast actually .... needs the oil sometime ...
i find the time quite less and lesser by the day ... and i can proudly say .. i can work for 13 hrs a day .... in my search to write stuffs i am quite confused .. should i write abt my ISP battle and gandhi giri where i sat for 5 hrs just to get my connection restored .. should i write abt the pubs where ppl take me for abhay deol ... should i write abt the loooong bike journeys across the length and breadth of mumbai and pune ... should i write abt my int. phone friends who once tried to sell me things ... may be jabber and jibber ...

no am not confused ... am not at all confused ... i am just trying to say ... am happy ...

i never had been so happy in my life ... i know it aint gonna last ... but that thought is just at the surface ....
i have painted my sadness whenever i found a chance ... i never knew expressing happpiness would be so damn difficult .... and the most interesting thing that makes me more excited is that i dont have a damn clue ... what i am so happy for ...

may be we need reasons to be unhappy ... the rest times suffers the goof ... the question is "is it the timing or just us" ...

cheers ...

last 11 days ..

here is a summary of what I experienced in last 11 days ie. from 18th march to 28th march, 2009 in mumbai ...

1. tasted Italy's finest Brunnells (Wine)
2. completed Bergman's SILENCE (which I had been trying to finish by watching it part by part for last 7 months)
3. was told to behave when i entered in to ladies compartment in local train for desperation to buy time
4. drank at domestic airport
5. thrown out of disco at 2 am for not being with any gal
6. drank at international airport
7. saw 5 CHAMELIan hookers at ville parle
8. slept at a renowned hospital overnight on reception desk
9. bought and lost a lottery ticket
10. lost my wallet at a mall and recovered it after 5 hours
11. went from juhu to kharghar on a frnd's bike at 3am
12. ate one large pizza all by myself
13. helped by a nice old lady at kurla station where i fell sick who gave me a lift to office and nimbu sherbat
14. went from VT to Vashi in a taxi and accidentally broke the meter which I had to pay for as well
15. almost fell out of local train once again in a span of a month
16. booked for a play and accidentally went to an art gallery show(which was being held in a hall above the theatre) at kala ghoda which was lovely
17. walked from worli sea beach to currey road station at 1 am
18. 2 streteched nightouts and 1 separate within a week
19. downloaded 19 movies , watched 4
20. met an Italian guy who liked Mahabharata

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Bombay

How deep is the Arabian sea?
Oh! I will tell you the defined decree;
Its not blue at all, its just green;
Its not for the girl i love, neither you nor me,
This city kills the tides with prural marquee;
Let this city ruin and the Arabian sea die,
Only if beside my side my love lies.
Holy rivers and unattempted mountains
Lovers meet in fictious fountains,
They sing songs and hum like bees
Know no one can but they can see;
Sure do this happen only in movies,
For what i lead is a fictional life.

Oh! what should happen I shall tell thee;
The city must destroy, the urbans must die,
Die must the mothers and their babies,
No excuse is reasonable when i am the thee.
For if must, we should see
She would be the shore and i would be the sea.

Well I have the weapon for free,
For her to be only by me,
I can wait for her, in the spring decree, love
Even more but not as much more as the Arabian sea.

Corrigendum

The word "fathom" came from the ancient measuring techniques for sailors. And then came the say, "Fathom the depth of the sea". This particular unintentional abstraction of this post isn't meant to be as deep as sea. May be this isn't deep at all. Its superficial. In fact its just at the surface.
This post is a result of the word corrigendum. I just have it on my mind now and I don't know why. Corrigendum? I don't think so.
A few days ago I watched a documentary of GOOGLE peoples about Second Life.online Apart from the bafflement and astonishment and algorithms I thought deeply as we all would have done. And now I realize that all the time I am leading a second life. I watch movies, I read books, I go roaming around, I eat, I drink, I travel and I blog too. In someway I find it hard not to entail that in all my activities I am either running away from something or getting overindulged with some other thing in my life. I wouldn't be surprised if others find it the same way too as I am not different. Once I was called "sentimental", I always take it as an offense. Somehow, for me it was the exact opposite of professional, I always like this word and I would feel terrible. Speaking on the same note don't raise your finger at me with arguments as I already have mentioned that this is totally superficial. The only person who has the right to judge me is my boss at work. Rest can keep the change.
A senior once told me that if your life is full of fights then your life is interesting for which you had fought and are fighting and will fight. That makes your life interesting. The way we wanted it gets sort of changed, and the way we perceive it is rather disgruntled.
But, do there always have to be a QUACK in our mind? I don't know what it is and I guess I will never find out what it is or to be honest that I never want to find out.
But why the word "Corrigendum" all of a sudden find its place in my mind?
Anyways, as I was talking about the QUACK of all of our lives, somehow we or better I do try to keep is at a safe distance from my ears. And I watch movies, I read books, I go roaming around, I eat, I drink, I travel and I blog too for the very same reason. Somehow I find my way into these things and try to overhear the quack. For all I know I do enjoy my hobbies and (since very few have the ability to do things I can achieve) I begin to feel myself in those things playing characters, having opinions, expressing anger or joy or whatever. And there it is, Second Life.
As of this moment I am online on one laptop and watching "Wonder Years" on the other (partly bragging and partly telling that I have access to these things) and also with this word which Shakespeare knows why is called "corrigendum" and supposedly means "mistake" and filled with a gust of hating the QUACK and self for the betterment of the same self for the near future. Do I need both the laptops at the same time? No. Then why the hell do I have both switched on? May be I am feeling like a laptop now, may be like the hard drive or the random memory storage. And again how on earth feeling like a laptop would mean something to me or how would be related to be my nonstop Second Life?
I have a clue. May be gashing out these would make me feel better or at least otherwise.

May be I should just ...

Random

Its 2.17 am. I just reached home. My room mates are asleep. These random thoughts begin to barge me. Should I just sleep? How can I sleep without feeling sleepy? Am I tired? Of course I am tired. Am I sleepy? No I am not. Its 2.18 am.

Yesterday my senior from IIT or in better word my collegue or still better my friend reached Mumbai from Bihar. He is not suffering from post traumatic stress as would I suffer if I just had recently been held up by naxalites in Bihar-Bengal border. He had been looted of all his stuffs and even his rings which supposedly brought him goodluck. What is the opposite of irony? He saw 2 people being killed. He saw four women being dragged away and returned with scars and blood. His reactions don't have a glimpse of that occurence though the news managed to find a tiny space in Mumbai edition of Times of India. I desperately look for a cigarette. I found one. I went to the living room and opened the window wide open. Mumbai has no winter season. As
puffed away my conscious I looked down from 7th floor to the streets below. Dogs are barking. There are some people walking past our building. Two men are talking loudly or may be arguing. One is getting undressed. You think I would be interested not because the sight was exciting for me but because the scene was exciting, but I don't have the energy to gather interest. I look else where. Its 2.32 am. I again look down. I saw one man running away with many clothes and the other person nude. The nude person chasing the man with many clothes. What is the opposite of irony? It is just some 30 naked feet. The nude man begins to moan. The other person is no where in sight. He is screaming, he is crying, he is swaering. And he is naked.

Am I naked? What is the opposite of apt?

Its 2.36 am. I am sleepy and I go to bed. I see my laptop on my bed and begin watching Planet Earth by BBC.