I rise.

every morning I rise with the sun
carrying the fire within
every evening I set with it
only to rise up again
the core of my being
is my soul that burns
singing the very air that it breathes
the fire within me will never die

I am Powerless.

I am powerless yet again.I hate people who refuse to love me.I hate people who instigate me to do things I don't want to do.I hate people who don't commend to my thoughts.I have committed a second mistake in my second life and I regret it more than I regret joining MIT.I am afraid of not being alone but being lonely.I don't have anyone person to share my thoughts with.No one to tell what and how I feel when I get hurt and when I don't get what I want to get.I even have nobody to share my dark secrets with.I am a bad guy and everyone almost has come to realize this by now.I lie,not for the bad,for the good.Good of others.Good of myself.I think I am powerless.Now,more than ever.I want to stand up and walk.Walk like a man with a purpose walks.I had this dirty filthy breakup sometime back and I just can't seem to get over it.I want to be myself again.The jovial,gay-guy who laughed and never cried.I want to flutter like no one ever did.I want to refuse everything that the world throws at me.I want to sing like bruce springsteen and cry like a new-born kid.A female kid preferably.I want to live again.Live like no one ever did.Live like no one ever can.I am powerless.Really powerless.

I have seen the unseen.I have felt the soul.I have borrowed pain.A lifetime ful of pain.But it's not pain.It's laughing with your friend at a time when you shouldn't.It's the sweat in your palms wanting to know someone you see – and the pit in your stomach when they actually see you.It's being touched by hands,that aren't your own.It's the thrill of an escape that almost wasn't. It's the embarrassment you feel – naked for the first time.It's helping a friend find something they lost.It's a smile,a joke,a song.It's what someone does that they like remembering.It's the thinking of things you may never do,and the doing of things you might never have thought.It's the road ahead,and the road behind.It's the first step,and the last – and everyone in between.Because they all make up for the good life.I have felt the soul.I have borrowed pain.God knows I tried my best to learn the ways of this world.Even had inklings we could be glorious;but after all that's happened,the inkles ain't easy anymore.I mean – what kind of fucking life is this?Fate plays its non-regular card.Instead of true joy,I feel waves.The kind that make you look forward to meeting your girl on a helpless day.When I ask god “why fucking me?”.He replies tersely “Y dnt ya go and fuckin figure ya'self.Aye not ny kiddo.”.Don't be surprised;God does have a Nigga-accent.He does speak like that.And then I ask god in my dream “Why do you fuck people?”.He says “What do you mean by fuck?The 'fucking' fuck?”.I say “No,I meant the 'Screwup' fuck”.He laughed and said “Oh kiddo,Ya scared shit outta me.I was gonna slap Ya.Ya see,People are supposed to fuck.It is our main purpose in life and all those other activities-playing the trumpets,Vacuuming Carpets,eating chocolate mousse-are just ways of passing the time until Ya can fuck again”.And then,I laugh.And then I wake up to do other unimportant things of my life – like Playing trumpets and vacuuming carpets. I wake up everyday into the trance of oxygen and sunlight.And then I smoke up to get the real feeling.The fucking real feeling.People mistakenly call the post-smoke-up feeling as trance.It's the contrary.Ducking for apples;Change a letter and that is my life.I have been fucking,the un-literal fucking,all my life.People need sex for a clear complexion,but I would rather do it for love.It's hard for me to change according to the changing time.I remember,when I was born, air was clean and sex was dirty.Now it's the opposite.Life plays poker.The strip poker.And it keeps defeating you until you are in your flesh.And then it pokes you,where it shouldn't.You ask it to stop.You cry in pain.You cry in vain.Life is deaf.And it is stupid.But it pokes where it shouldn't.The basis of optimism is sheer terror.Conscience makes egotists of us all.And then one day you start loathing life.But you still run after it and life says “You will always be fond of me.I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit”.You scream.You scream “Fuck you”.And then you wake up.You once again wake up to learn the ways of this world.Wake up in the trance of oxygen and sunlight.The real trance.And you know the reason why god has chosen you to fuck.You don't ask again “Why fucking me?”.Everything goes on.But I keep waiting.I don't know why,but I keep waiting.I know how to ease my pain.I know.I wait.

The Glitterati.The smoke.The Newsmakers.

In my opinion,humble but plausible,2008 was the worst year anyone can ever witness.I went and asked my father about his pressed/oppressed thoughts.He said “You think so because you haven't seen 1948 or 1984”.There was a solemn pause,and then I thought my father must have asked his father at some point of history,otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned the 1948.Here is the point, I don't know a lot about 1948 or 1984 except for the facts that 1948 was marked by Gandhi's death and India's Olympic gold in hockey and 1984 was highlighted by Indira Gandhi's death,Bhopal Gas tragedy and Rakesh Sharma's touchdown in space.But if someone asks me if I were given a chance to live through 1948,1984 or 2008 for one year of my life,which one would I take.I would take any but 2008.That's because seeing is believing. And I have seen deaths,births,tragedies,mockeries,showdowns,pull-ups,Bullcrash,Bearsloth and much more in 2008.And I can watch Ram Gopal Verma's 5 movies 5 times but not this painful year once again,because you have things to alleviate the movie-pain but nothing to palliate the heart-hurt.Here is a compendium of the year,in no particular order or genre:The trendsetters,the zenith,nadirs and everything.A potpourri of a ghost concocting putrid fish in a fine Cognac.


Floods devastated the beginnings/Financial markets crashed/The spectre of job insecurities for millions of confident and dynamics young Indians/The rape of a nun/Bomb blasts ripping across city after city/The indelible images of 26/11 and the horror Kasab and men caused/The black President/Abhinav Bindra's gold/The rumbustious tamasha called IPL/The Inflation/The crush-down of Merill lynch and several other companies/The Sarah Palin-Lookalike Strip contest in Las Vegas/Suicide of Indian investors abroad/The 123 Agreement/The discord between UPA and the Left/The Muntader al Zaidei-George bush-Shoe controversy/The Nano trouble/Nicolas Sarkozy's marriage/Laloo launches his blog,an instant sellout on YouTube/Jardari-Zardari/IPL cheerleaders with flashy panties,who were more of distraction than attraction/The reunion of Jade Goody and Shilpa Shetty on Big Boss 2/Amarnath shrine protest/Gujjars in Rajasthan/The Large Hadron Collider Hungama/Rock-On/Cash show in Parliament/Anti-Bihar campaign in Mumbai/Blasts,Blasts and more blasts/Chaand ke paar,Chandrayan/Aravind Adiga awarded Booker for his 'The White Tiger'/The kingfisher-Jet Tieup/Salman vs. Shahrukh/Did Shreesanth Cry?/Harbhajan's Monkey-MaaKi controversy/Ekta Kapoor vs. Star Plus/Shahrukh's 6p Abs/Aamir's 8p Abs/Shahrukh Khan,awarded with the honorary 'Datuk' title and ranked 41st in list of Newsweek's global elite,ahead of Dalai Lama and Oprah Winfrey but just one behind Osama Bin Laden//

Whose Pride,whose prejudice?

Lo and Behold,the year best forgotten is dying.Let it die and its ashes be untouched.Let it cry and screech like the wet chalk on blackboard.Let it pose blatantly but ignore it and call 'juvenile'.Hold only a vague and obscure image,like a tree behind the foggy glass.Kiss it a last goodbye, for the prophet asked to love your fears too.Some laughing man said “Sweet are the uses of adversity”.The purveyors of melancholy had a field day.The dying year,our Annus Horribilis, was derisive in every aspect.The petite bourgeoisie cried,in vain.The proletarians sollen,in pain.Let us forget the gone for the best.Think of it as the dead and you don't speak about the dead.Forget the glass half-full,there is simply no glass.Do not conjure a rainbow for the next year,you will be disappointed.It's best to be pessimistic in some cases.You don't feel bad,whatever turns up.

Anyway,dream big.Pray for the dead and the sufferers.For those in pain.Who have seen death.Who have lost their love.Their hope.Their faith.But before you dream,wake up.Dreams are not those that you get while sleeping.Dreams are those that don't let you sleep.Hoping the very best for all of you.Wishing you a Kasab-free year.

I swear I have a surprise.I swear.

“Babe,close your eyes.I have a surprise for you.”.She was pissed.So was I.But I,unlike her,had a surprise.I swear I had a surprise.I swear I was pissed.Who was she in my dreams?Where was she?Today was light,unsubstantial.Clinging to the edge.Close your eyes and it will fall off.I swear it will.Blink once and that bubble will pop out and die.I swear it will.I cry.Drops swell.My eyes are closed.I blink,and then,Pop.Don't tell me not to fly.I have to.But you are allowed to rain on my parade.Today tastes dangerous.I swear.Don't say Boo when I confess my lie.The sweet lie I love to lie.I swear I do.The crime was juvenile.And so was she.Those curls on her forehead.They said a lot.And meant a lot too.She asked me not to leave.I asked the same.I heard her.She didn't.I swear,she didn't.Tears dropped again.And again,Pop.Everything is grubby.Everything is kaput.I flow unbridled.So does my tear.And it pops.She loves surprises.I swear she does.Everyone does.I swear,again.It is too late to wakeup.To realize the facts.She was not pissed.I just wanted her to be pissed.I swear I did.You can't google the facts.They lie.I swear they do.I loathe everything.I detest everything I loathe.I cry when it rains.I do even when it doesn't.I swear I do.Send me that winter.That icey breeze.Let me hug you for once.Once like no one ever did.Once like no one would ever.I swear,no one would.Ever.Nothing is what I do when she is away.Nothing is what I want when she is here.I swear nothing else I want.Get me that winter.I am not alive to live.Nor to die.I am alive to swear.Swear that I will hug like no one ever would.Get me one thing I want.I will get you more than you want.More than you can ever want.More than you would ever want.I swear.I will.My eyes ache with unshed tears now.Nothing pops.Nothing swells.And why do I mourn.Why do I mourn for the dead.It is not for dead,she said.I swear she did.It is for guilt,she said.I swear she did.Get me one more day.One more day for her.A day I can gift her.A day I can surprise her with.I swear I want to give her a surprise.A surprise for a day.A day for a surprise.Day only we bear witness to.For the things done wrong.For the things not done so well.I sigh.Such a Heartfelt sigh.I mourn again.She chuckles.She hugs.She gives me a day to give back to her.She gives me my winter.Every year I mourn.Every year she gives me my winter.I am transparent.I am gauche.I am sollen.I cry.I cry for her.For one more hug.I wait for the winter.And she gives me winter whenever I want.Like she has given me now.I wait for her.I swear I do.I wait to give her a hug.I swear I do.I wait to give her a day.I swear I do.I have a lot for her.I have a surprise for her.I swear.

Fucking Things To Do.

I plan to do a lot of fucking things in the 3 weeks left for my holidays to disappear and for the Manipal monster to rise from sleep.I hate going to college.Everyone does as a matter of fact.Ok,errata.Not everyone,but everyone who has no one to hold hands or to hold whatever and walk at 10 in the night.Or who are dead sure that they wont get any one to hold theirs(Read:hands and/or whatever) all their life long.But for people like me who get up everyday from the deadly grip of sleep just to be optimistic for a new day and for the hope of someone to hold ours.I dont mean one person holding for all,but seperates for everyone.So I plan and prepare and get all set for helluva lot of fucking things.Now fucking things is a metaphor.Just a figure of speech..Dont take it literally and put up an impression that I am so desperate that I will start fucking things.I might,I am not very sure,but I wont tell you before I do so.So I plan to:

1.Eat.Exercise.Eat again.I want to put up some weight so that I dont disappear in the ennui of my life.
2.Get all the last year issues of Playboy and FHM from Adi and Pinachu and mentally strip(Evil laugh:Hahahaha) all the models to decide which one has best abs.
3.Be patient.Many people including my Ex have told me that I am very short-tempered and impatient.So I am gonna rent all the Ram gopal Verma's movies from Bigflix and watch them so that my next 5 generations will be born patient.
4.Think of new positions and when I come up with some thing really amazing,put them on Cosmopolitan website's poll of the month.
5.Renew my annual subscription to Manohar kahaaniyan,the weekly Magazine where they tell you real-life stories about bad people.People who seduce and then kill.Huhahahaha.
6.Cancel my Readers digest subscription and keep that money in my drawer to rent RGVerma's upcoming movies(Vaastu Shashtra-2,Bhoot hun main,Sholay-A new perspective).
7.Miss delhi even before I leave for Manipal.I love Delhi.I hate manipal,period.

The Nice-Legged Mommy

I am disgusting and I should be punished.Last week I had a severe altercation with one of my friends.The topic was shitty as usual.We fought over if 'Damn It' is god's last name 'cuz its common to hear people say 'God damn It'.So I just thought that may be jesus was named with Damnation.Excuse me for my impunity but I cant help being shameless.I was speaking for the motion and he was motioning against.Anyway I just brought out this topic 'cuz I got a bum-screw in the end and everyone else laughed off at me.The way they always do.So I went online to catch up some more KickAss points.I googled 'Damnation','Damn+God','Damn+It+God+debate','KickAss+god' and several other similar-jested words.But all shit-in-vain.It seems my getting screwed up every time is some kind of predilection.Guys love doing it and chicks feel seeing me doleful is the best thing next to orgasm.Is it?Half an hour later with No KA(read:KickAss) points with me,I chucked thinking about debating with that filthy despicable friend.5 minutes of Downloading later,I was going to log out when My Nice-legged Mommy MSN'ed me “Hey Son.Watchup? XD”.Now this KA nice-legged Mommie aint the real mommie.But she is the nicey,facetious,Seducing mommie and she does have nice-legs.Those long ones with curvy ankles and blowey knees.The kind Guys love to fall for.(By the way 'facetious' has all the vowels in order of their alphabetical appearance.There are only 2 other words in english language.Awesome).She will seduce you to death and the moment you start hitting on her she will retort MSN'ically “Haaaw.You pervert son ;)” And that's it.The wink in the end is another of her seducing tactics.The last blow.Like the people of laconia used to blow up their enemies with.Tempting but plausible and speciously pernicious.You write one more thing and you are crossed off.The best reply:wait for 17 seconds and then wink back.

Now this Mommie hates relationships.And she does not want to go out with me.Nothing new though,I know.No one wants to go out with me.Not that I am a bad guy.I am not.For sure.People say I am a bugger.A sweet one.Some think a sexy one too.Anyway chuck and back to Mommie.The nice-legged-one.She loves saying 'Toodles' whenever she is bored of chatting with me.She loves 'XD' too.And she loves Manchester United as much as I do.No I guess a li'l lesser.Or may be not.I don't know.Nevin's psychological laws state that you feel closer to a girl with similar likes and taste as you than a guy.Now there is no sexual psychology,whatever that means,but only psychological predilection.But having a chick who loves Manchester United, in your friends list(Not the orkut one,But real friend list.You understand what I say.Don't you?) is something which exhilarates you as much as ManU winning Premier League does.And If that chick is the Nice-legged mommie it's like the Garlic-mayo-slurp sauce over a plain burger.Don't infer that I am some sexual predator just 'cuz I am using 'Nice legged' in an unbridled manner.Blame my hormones and my condition(Read:Without a girlfriend for so many straight months.)And anyway guys can't help being guys.Dicks have brains too and they are conflicting with our brains.Anyway I was online today and she banged on again.And she asked why don't I blog.Now there are a few reasons for that too but I'll come to it later.So when she asked I was surprised.Surprised for two reasons.One:OMG,there is some one who reads my blog.Two:Why am I not fucking blogging?.So I said “I gTg.TC.Muaaah” and sat down to write this small dedciation to my Nice-legged mommie.

Coming back to the surprise points.Why did I stop blogging.To begin with I blog only when I get an impetus to blog.And that happens when 1)My mom screws me up and I feel morose,and/or,2)I have atleast 25 new words to add to my vocabulary,and/or,3)Somebody actually wants to read the stuff I write.And none of the three points were triggered for a long time, so no blogging.I know I write really uncanny stuffs that hardly can be left from being tagged Balderdash.But I love everything I write and I love everyone who love what I love 'cuz their love is same as my love and trichotomy propounded thousand years ago that if A=B and B=C,then A=C.I know it sounds like Zeroth law of thermodynamics,but I love Mathematics more than Thermodynamics and so I took the number example.And so when somebody talks about my blog which isn't actually a blog,he/she satisfies the 3^rd criteria of Piyush's Algortihm and I start blogging again.By the way the Nice-legged mommie has an amazing brogue.The first time I spoke to her she sounded like a guy.And she infact is more of a guy,just that she has got features that biologically complicates her being biological me.Excuse my french!She loves bands I love.Just that she likes Linkin Park,which I really hate like shit.Sorry Mommie:)

Anyway Now that I have started Blogging again(Thanks to KA Mommie) I just hope that I hold on to my onus carefully.Catchyouall later.Muaahh Mommie.The Nice-legged One.

IF IT IS NOT ANTICLOCKWISE,YOU BETTER GO AND BRUSH.

I hate E&E(For the wary ones it's Electrical And Electronics),not because there are hardly 10 girls in my branch but because I cant differentiate between a generator and motor just by looking at it.I know its sad for a 3rd year student to not know the basics of electrical but so is the case with my branch mates.I know that even they can't sort out a generator and motor,if asked to,but they don't hate it as much as I do.My dad keeps asking me daily during the 10:30-in-the-night calls that how is college and stuff going and I proclaim myself to be genius in everything that's going in my curriculum.I am just going down on the rope of E&E,but some wise man said 'When you come to the end of a rope,tie a knot and hang on.And that's what I am trying to do for one more year.

I wonder how many of students have made an identity of theirs,after coming to college.As in just for an experiment, type out your name on Google and search.BOOM,what comes out?A void?A void in Google or in your life?That point is worth thinking all your life until you get a Top of the list result in Google search.Just imagine if someone would have asked George Washington of his ID,he would have taken out a dollar note or a quarter and showed.Inspiring but showy.Ain't it?

I think I have got some kind of infection where people just can't concentrate on a particular thing because something keeps itching down the chest.Its not because of cleanliness issues.Its because of some infection as I said.I was watching Heroes 3rd season,6th episode and the directors ended the show at a very critical point,the moment you would have come to know what's gonna happen to Peter Petrelli.But the inference was subdued for one more week,and I caught this infection since then.

Chaperons don't enforce morality; they force immorality to be discreet.The invention of the teenager was a mistake. Once you identify a period of life in which people get to stay out late but don't have to pay taxes - naturally, no one wants to live any other way.I miss my old school friends and even some whom I just met randomly but could not carry them on along my life.But whenever I used to cry or sit and ponder over such muddly insane issues,my Dad used to say "Don't worry about the people in the past,there's always a reason why they are not with you in the future".I never comprehended what he meant until the day I saw the 6th episode and caught the infection.Since then I have been thinking about the reasons of In-past-Not-in-Future phenomenon only.

By the way I have already bunked 3 Lab experiments and lost out on 15 marks,if I dont go right now and put up my lazy bum on the chair with that Pink Lab journal in front of me,I will flunk and I will have to hang a little longer on the Rope of my branch,which I dont want to do anymore.So I better get going.Catch you people soon.Adios.

I DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING.AND YEAH,I AM SAD.

I am feeling very sad today.I am missing my home.I want Barrack Obama to win US elections this time.I hate Sarah palin even more now.McCain is an asshole(personal opinion).I have my Lab Exams on 3rd and I don't know shit in it.I don't know shit in and about anything infact.I am going to watch Pineapple Express.I love Seth Rogen and can't wait to watch his coming movie Zack and Miri Make a Porno.Anyway happy Diwali to all of you.While the entire nation is celebrating Diwali on 28th,We at MIT,manipal have been given this privilege*Grrrs* to celebrate it a day earlier.Someone said it very correctly 'The world is advancing at an amazing pace'.India in particular.And Manipal specifically.May goddess lakhsmi shower all her blessings on you and cash on me.Adios.