He stands on the edge,

Eyes locked straight ahead.

Thinking thoughts that long ago,

Filled him with dread.

The rope around his neck is steady,

The knot that holds it is strong,

At any minute he’ll be ready,

And in a flash, he’ll be gone.

Knees trembling, head spinning,

But his troubled mind is set.

By one way or another,

He must have his release, his rest.

When did life become such a burden,

When did he begin feeling so oppressed?

Depression and sadness now define him,

Happiness and joy long dead and repressed.

Twas not so long ago,

He was a perfect, unspoilt child,

Heart filled with ambition,

Mind untainted by pride.

The apple of his parents eye,

And what they built their lives around,

The centre of their being,

Absolute attention to his every sound.

The child grew, however.

Oh, it all happened so fast.

Hugs from dad and kisses from mom,

Soon became things of the past.

Though no longer fenced within a playpen,

Nay not that obvious were his chains.

A long hard life of forced study and struggle,

All added to his pains.

The unease within his mind,

Grew from an insect to a raging beast.

As he fought to break his perceived chains,

And rebelled to break free.

The smile left his face,

And the light, his eyes.

And he grew into a hard man,

From an innocent little child.

Tormented by his inner demons,

Sleep evaded him night and day.

His mind would not grant him a seconds rest,

It screamed all it had to say.

“YOU ARE TRAPPED!

Trapped, by your parents ambition.

Trapped, by societys expectations.

Trapped, by rules and regulations.

Trapped, by social convention.”

“Not fit for this life, you are,

Move on, you must.

Spare your parents the pain of seeing,

Their only childs future become dust.

Put one small foot forward.

Thats all it will ever take.

A quick fall, one slight tug,

An end to the madness, you can make.”

He closes his eyes and draws a deep breath,

A sense of calm overtakes him.

His knees dont tremble, his tears dry up,

He feels peace within.

He takes the fateful step forward,

And that was all she wrote.

A quick fit of kicking and struggling,

And his life was no longer of note.

There will come a day, when everything goes right.

There will come a day, without a single fight.

There will come a day, when there is no wrong.

There will come a day, when i feel like i belong.

There will come a day, when i am totally at ease with what and who i am.

There will come a day, when  my inbox isn’t so full of spam.

There will come a day, when i know what i want.

There will come a day, when i can ignore a taunt.

There will come a day, when she will be mine.

There will come a day, when i will toe the line.

There will come a day, when none shall cry.

There will come a day, when anger passes me by.

There will come a day, when i feel at peace with the world.

There will come a day, when i cant help but smile.

There will come a day, free of malice and guile.

There will come a day, a day so glorious and right.

Ah, but this goddamn day, seems so far out of sight.

An old man’s folly

A bent old man,

A wearied, wizened soul.

Looking for that,

Which would make him whole.

A lifetime he spent,

Seeking the meaning of life.

His brow furrowed,

Heart and mind, full of strife.

He lies now upon his bed,

Knowing the End is nigh.

Praying to a God he never truly believed in,

For the answer to one question – Why?

Why are we here upon this Earth?

Why do we so toil?

And why do we dance the eternal dance, Upon this mortal soil?

The Being that is, and always will be,

Took pity on this fool that was not

And deigned to bestow upon him,

The answer to the question he sought.

He came to the man, in a flash of light

And the man looked upon him in awe. For one mere look told the man,

That He, was the God of it all.

“Fool!”, the Being said.

“’Tis not for you to question,

What lies beyond the bend.

‘Tis for you to cope and live with,

Just what life has to lend.

‘Twas a fool that once said, ‘I think, therefore I am’, ‘

Tis not for man to unravel, God’s almighty plan.”

“A lifetime has passed you by,

A lifetime, have you missed.

All because you wanted to know,

The reason you exist.

The answer lies before you,

Around you, within you.

It is in the full bloomed flower.

In the newborn child’s cry.

In a loving mother’s embrace.

Even in the smell of a fresh baked pie.”

“Having lived a life without living,

Now die, a damned death.

I go, and leave you now,

To draw your last breath.”

The old man stiffened,

As the Being faded into the night.

His body went limp,

As he contemplated his plight.

And out of his eye,

A single tear fell.

For the life he had lost,

And the stories he’d never tell.

One last breath he drew,

And it all came to an end.

Yet another meaningless life,

Had gone around the bend.

I want to stay at home with my mom and my dad and my dogs.

I want to wake up whenever i want to.

I want to eat breakfast that doesnt smell and taste like horse shit.

I want to do whatever i want the whole day.

I want to watch my doberman try to sit on my dachsund.

I want to drive my mom around town.

I want to go and sit out in the lawn and just look around and be happy i’m home.

I want to let my dogs out of their cages and run around with them.

I want to go places and not have to pay the bill.

I want to know that i fit, that i belong.

I want to go to sleep on my bed, in my room.

I want to wake up on the same.

Sigh. So much i had as a kid. So so much. And HA! “So much i had as a kid”… I sound fifty.

I do know i have to go back to college, i do know its whats good for me, what i’m meant to do.  And i do know if i stayed back home 24*7 i’d probably beg to go to college anyway, like i did in 12th. The proverbial grass is ever greener on the other side, i guess. But ah, so, so, green and lush it is.

I leave this evening to go back to college. Have university exams coming up in two months, so yeah, you wont hear much of me. Heh. I speak like i have a huge fan following. And like i posted whenever i didn’t have exams coming up. Heh.. If there’s a single one among you out there reading this, do comment and let me know. Will motivate me to keep to my new years resolution. A post every month, i said. Would be easy, i said. What did i know

As you’ve probably figured by now, this isnt so much a post as me thinking aloud. It’s 3am here, i’m wide awake and have noone to talk to. Enter the internet. I know its sad, but hey, ten minutes into a yahoo chatroom and i get a PM from “hotbuns69″ asking if i want to go private, among other inappropriate questions. Bah.

I feel like i’ve forgotten how to write. I used to love it, i used to love making people laugh, making them think, through what i wrote. Even if most of it was bull. I envy those who keep a regular blog, who post weekly, even daily. I have a couple friends who do.. Actually it was reading someone’s blog that drove me to post something here asap.

Tomorrow i go back to college. I go back to a place where i feel like i dont fit in, where all my friends feel fake, where the people are all weird (or maybe its just me), where’s there’s nothing to do, and where the food  sucks monkey balls. If thats not what its made of in the first place. Oh internet Gods, if you’re out there, SAVE ME!!!

Sigh. I’m still here. When i started typing this stuff out, i thought the words would just flow, that it would be automatic. Turning out to be quite the opposite. 600 words and i still havent said anything of substance. Maybe i really have lost my touch :-s. If i ever had such a thing in the first place. What the heck is a “touch”? And why do you need it to be good at something?

Okay, i’m rambling. Is best i go watch a movie or something. And if you are still with me, patient and jobless reader, i know a great shrink Later…

When I was a kid, I kept asking my dad to overtake the cars ahead, pretending that I was in a race, vying for first place. Dad humoured me. The infuriating thing is this: No matter how many cars you pass, there will still be many more ahead of you. You will never be in first place. Not because you are not good enough, but because there is no such thing.
And until you realize that it doesn’t matter who else is on the road, until you realize that the only thing that matters is where you are going and how you’re gonna get there, you’re wasting your time. All you have to do is stay on the road you need to to reach your destination, avoid potholes and flat tires, and never run out of gas. You’ll get there eventually. Have faith.

Enough. It all starts when one wakes up. The dread in one’s mind cloaks one’s perception of reality, screwing up how you see the world, ergo, the world sees you as screwed up. Everythings a vicious circle, with you right at the centre. You try to get out, but you cant. The circle keeps getting smaller, smaller, smaller, right up until its choking you, suffocating you, squeezing the very life out of your body. You try to break free, but you cant. You struggle, punch, kick, pound, bite, scratch, and finally scream. You scream and you scream and you scream, hoping and longing for a relief that will never come. You scream, wishing for times past, wishing you could redo a few days and make it all better. Redo a few hours and make it all better. Redo a few minutes and make it all better. Rethink a few thoughts and make it all better. But you cant. Regardless of what Flipsyde says, regardless of what Rowling writes, Time is not on your side. Time is, instead, a vicious predator, hungry for your blood, chasing you on and on. One tires. It doesnt. The end is inevitable. The end is everywhere, the end is forbodeing. The end is the end. It is naught, yet it is all. A leveller beyond all, the end is all. Some say death is the end.

I know otherwise. Some say the worst occurance in one’s life is death. I have stared into the blank, dead eyes of a beast with an even deader heart and realized that the greatest folly is birth. One can choose how one dies. One can even go as far as choosing how and when. Not so with birth. If you’ve seen your end as i have, you would never want to live. Not when you’ve seen your own death throes, as you writhe and twist in utmost agony. Pain incarnate, pain is all. There, as you wriggle around in your own filth, realizing that the end you have dreamt over and over again has come to pass, one thinks one would bawl in agony. Not me. As i lie here dying, i rejoice. Rejoice that my life has come to pass. Rejoice in the fact that I am over. Because as i am done, there is no more of the rat race for me. No more sin, no more wrong.

As this realization dawns on me, i smile a smile. An all-knowing smile. And i get up. Turn around. Look right into the deadened eyes of the monster that is Time. And i know the truth. It tires. I spit in its eyes, slap it into the ground. After all, what is it but Time. It cannot help but chase. It cannot stop. Unlike me. I have a choice. It doesnt. I can choose to bend over, pick a rose and smell it, savour the sensation it causes. It cannot. In that, i am richer, and in that knowledge, i am richest. Time is none, Time is dead, Time is over. I now wake up each morning with a purpose. I now wake up anticipating the day ahead. I feel no dread. What can dread do? It has no choice. I do. I wake up each morning anticipating the day ahead. People to meet, things to do.

And every few days….. every few weeks…months…years….lifetimes…. i look back into the eyes of the would-be monster behind me. Ever so desperately trying to catch up. Knowing that it cant , knowing that i know. And i know that someday, i will. See time in it’s death throes, twisting and writhing in agony. I will, because i believe i can. And i know the truth. As it slowly realizes that it has no choice in pursuit, what it used to look forward to, anticipate, delight in, turns sour. Turns mundane. Turns agonizing. I know something of agony. And i wish not to know more.
“”So pardon me while i burst into flames,
i’ve had enough of this world,
And it’s peoples mindless games.

So pardon me while i burn, and rise above the flame,
Pardon me, pardon me,
I’ll Never. Be the same.”"

Incubus.

Quite some time has elapsed since my last post on this, and in fact, any blog. For once, the reason for this is not absolute laziness on my part. At least not just that. On reading my previous post, one would gather that i’ve passed out of school. Which is true only to a certain extent, seeing as how it was penned during the study break for the boards… Life has progressed since. Here it is: Six months of my life, in a nutshell.

1. Wrote the boards.

For better or for worse, the board exams came and went, leaving me with the curious feeling that maybe i could’ve done better if i’d studied a bit more. But hey, the past is the past. So, putting the bad behind me, i started prepping for the worse. The entrances loomed ahead. While initially believing that i’d stick at home and study, seeing as how my parents had, over the course of two years, procured for me all the material i’d ever need… While material was not lacking, determination and will power certainly were. I acknowledged defeat, and enrolled at one of those godless places that, in their advertisements, almost guarantee you safe passage through the entrance examinations of whatever place you want to go to. Keyword, almost. On to that one-month long chapter of my life: The Crash.

2. The Crash (course)

The first thing the veritable hellhole enlightened me on was how little i knew. If waking up at ungodly hours and dragging myself there was worth it at all, ’twas not because of the teachers and their efforts to tutor me , but because of my fellow students, among whom a few friends existed. Okay the afore mentioned “ungodly hour” was 8 30, but hey… Anyone who knows me, anyone who’s ever had the misfortune of waking me up, rather, attempting to wake me up, will know that any hour pre-noon is ungodly for me. Also, i didnt drag myself anywhere. I was chauffered by my caring parents. Yes, yes, i’m a thankless pig. After a month, or to be specific, 22 days of listening to professors doing their best to finish two years worth of portions in a few days, i was free. The celebration was however, cut short with the kerala exams, the big momma of entrances, being a mere day or so away.

3. The Kerala Entrances, and miscellanious others

Went happily to my exam centre, and found out where i’d be sitting. Unlike the dude to the left of me, or the pseudo-hot chick in front, my palms were not sweaty, my knees were not shaking, and (with reference to the girl) my t shirt was not riding up, leaving my bum perilously exposed to the eyes of jobless voyuers like me. Why wasn’t i tensed, facing what i was told was the biggest and most important exam i’d faced to date, one that would if it could, decide my future?? The answer is simple. I was certain that i wouldnt make it. That cool-headedness by itself was probably responsible for my doing better in the blasted exam than i’d expected to, securing a moderate rank, which, while not being an embarassment, would not get me an admission anywhere. There were numerous exams to come, all of which i wrote. Within the space of one month i wrote a grand total of ten exams. Then, siesta time.

4.1 Post Exam, Pre Result amd 4.2 The Results
4.1

This particular chapter was both enjoyable and harrowing, for obvious reasons. Post exam, so back to the usual sloth. Pre Result, so anxiety attacks, hypertension and sleepness nights reading Dr. Suess books for no discernable reason.

4.2

Results came out. One by one, my ranks left me in little doubt as to where i’d be spending the next year of my life. With Dad saying no to management seats, my path led to one place. Brilliant. One of those places where they take your life, suck out all the fun and enjoyment, and inject intense study. With the inevitable result, that, provided youre not a retard of the highest degree, you’ll make it somewhere in the coming year. Daunted by the prospect of spending another year of my life on the same things i’d just spent 2 on, i hoped against hope that one of my ranks would be high enough (or low enough, depending on how you look at it), but no cigar. I went to the place, paid the fees and left, promising to return 2 weeks later to commence my studies.

5. Post Result, Pre Brilliant

Though this chapter was  unexpectedly extended by two weeks thanks to unexpected rain, my luck eventually ran out. So i went, with all the stuff i needed in a big bag, and all the stuff i cared about back at home. Off on a venture that i expected would last a year. Life had other things planned, though.

6. Brilliant

Started studies. Got used to the pattern. Resigned myself to the fact that i was there, that there was no escape. Then, three weeks into it, i escaped

7. The Escape:

Waaay back, i’d written an exam just cause i was writing another one at around the same time, and that centre was pretty close to this one. Well, long story short, i made it through their second round of counselling . So good bye brilliant. Went there again, never to return. Picked up bags. Left the place. Off to college.

8. College

Father Muller Medical College, Mangalore, would be my next destination. Classes started on august 1st. And i’ve been there since. Have occasionally wanted to escape, but been working my ways around that. Five months of my course till i got enough of a break to return home. Am here right now, and will be returning to college in a few days. Hopefully this blog wont remain dead. Will try to post. Not that you care

Anyways, thats my excuse. And a long one it is. Whatevers happened over the past few, im here now, and i do not regret it. Both past and future are out of your reach, the only tangible thing is the present. Live it. With that piece of advice, reader, i bid goodbye for now. Au revoir. And even though this blog may be nothing but a mierda de un toro, check back once in a while Even bullshit can be funny…

-AMDG [with apologies to Syam ]

UKG:

I remember the day i started school, surprisingly. A Tarun Bhaskar was on my bus, (number 4 at the time). He’d learnt my name somehow from someone, and the second i somehow clambered up those enormous steps, the first words i heard were “Good Morning, Akhil!”, said with a smile as big as the moon on his face.  This feeling of warmth and welcome, i’ve always associated with loyola since that very day.

 My first day at loyola was not all warmth and welcome, though. Being the spoilt brat that i was, i soon picked my first fight. With a certain Syam Nath. I swear, i’ll get that bastard back someday. Till then, he’s on http://theloyolitediaries.wordpress.com. On to more memories, now.

You’re sweating too much!

The lunch break had ended, and i was heading back to class, after a particularly gruelling game of basketball. Needless to say, i was sweating profusely. And who should i meet on my way back to class than the principal himself. So i give him a big smile and say “Good Afternoon, Father”, employing the warmth and welcome routine in order to get out of any trouble i might have been in. In case you haven’t heard yet, the warmth and welcome routine does not work on overworked too-tense principals over the age of 60, especially when it’s nigh one o’clock and they haven’t had their lunch yet. What do i get in return? I get sent to the parlour for sweating too much.

My first kiss

Ahh, i’m just fuckin with ya!

Being class leader

It has happened a few times over the past years. A group of 50-odd morons who i owe my life to have seen fit to elect me to be the one who gets pinched by the teacher each day for not “rubbing the board”, or “emptying the trash can”, or “saving the human race from absolute annihilation”. Although i may be lying about that last part. Looking back, i know that the role of a class leader matters little in the workings of the school, and even less to the world, but to a kid in kindergarten, heck, to a kid in the twelfth, it means the world.

LA Fest

Wow. A leap of a decade or so into the future, and we’re busy hosting LA Fest. You can argue that other schools are doing the same now, that there no longer is a point to the festival. Tell that to the hundred-odd guys hosting it, though, and they’ll tear you to bits. I was fortunate to serve as coordinator. I say fortunate because i got to run around pretending to be busy, while gawking at thermally active female participants. A.K.A hot girls. I joke, of course. Was busy that day. Did my part. Quite well too, methinks. Anyway. I am a mere seventeen years old. I have lived for approximately 6205 days. And so far, LA Fest has been the highlight. The sheer experience of standing in front of a crowd near a thousand strong (we had the biggest festival so far, with sixteen schools present and yelling), and to have them actually listen to what you have to say, the experience of getting things done flawlessly, and sometimes not, while working as a team. These are the memories i shall always hold dear to my heart. Unless, of course, i get amnesia. In that case, it might be chicken stew.

That’s enough for today

This is a double entendre’. I actually intended to wind up here, because i think dad’s waking up downstairs. But this is the title of our junior batch’s web page. A good batch too, truth be told. They’ve got everything. Musicians, actors, Orators…. Wait. Lemme rephrase that. Bad musicians, bad actors, bad orators. Heh. But that’s what school’s for. To help you become a better you.

Now that IS enough for today

I seriously think dad’s waking up. It being 4:44 A.M, i think i should go pretend i’ve been sleeping for the past eight or so hours. Sooo much more to post. So little time.