What is growing up?
They say, when you grow up,
You know what the right thing to do is
Who knows what’s right anyways?
There isn’t any rule book that I know of…
Yes, there’s the Bible, the Koran, the Geeta and all of those sorts
But which one to believe in?
They claim that they say different things altogether
Though I see no difference,
They sure don’t agree...
What is growing up?
Becoming hairer and bleeding four days a month
Or being capable of reproducing?
That makes people with a 100 children real grown-ups!
They would know what is the rightest of all things to do
Whether it’s blowing up towers or bombing the cities…
If not, what is growing up then?
Knowing what to say when?
Knowing when to stop playing?
To quit exclaiming loudly when you see a rainbow?
Or is it when you stop believing in fairy-tales?
Is it when you stop crying in company of others
Even if you want to do it the most?
Or to laugh when you don’t really want to?
And say things you don’t really mean to?
Wow! I can’t wait to be a groan up!
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Kind of an Ode to Monotony
Monotony, my enemy
Ruins life
It cuts the living soul with a cold-blooded knife
When things don’t change for good or bad
The world becomes boring and sad
Cant stand when life goes just the same
Don’t like it when the world isn’t a bit strange
Life’s a broth which needs spices, salt and a wee bit o’ tang
Without these the feast is indeed quite bland
Life needs ‘em all; whiskey, rum and gin
Add in also, vodka, tequila and a beer tin
Imagine what it would be to drink only water!?!
The world will go mad if it didn’t get a quarter
Just like plain bread n’ butter ain’t no good enough
We need Italian, Chinese and Mexican food stuff
Can’t go on with just black and white
We sure as hell need other hues
The reds, the violets, greens, yellows and blues!
The difference makes a difference all the time
Life needs a kick of cloves and a dash of lime
Why should there be only one husband or one wife?
When variety, my dear, is the spice of life!
Ruins life
It cuts the living soul with a cold-blooded knife
When things don’t change for good or bad
The world becomes boring and sad
Cant stand when life goes just the same
Don’t like it when the world isn’t a bit strange
Life’s a broth which needs spices, salt and a wee bit o’ tang
Without these the feast is indeed quite bland
Life needs ‘em all; whiskey, rum and gin
Add in also, vodka, tequila and a beer tin
Imagine what it would be to drink only water!?!
The world will go mad if it didn’t get a quarter
Just like plain bread n’ butter ain’t no good enough
We need Italian, Chinese and Mexican food stuff
Can’t go on with just black and white
We sure as hell need other hues
The reds, the violets, greens, yellows and blues!
The difference makes a difference all the time
Life needs a kick of cloves and a dash of lime
Why should there be only one husband or one wife?
When variety, my dear, is the spice of life!
Narcissus... ashes of roses
Flashback, breathtaking-ly handsome young man named Narcissus enters the woods of a beautiful nymph called Echo. Yes, that’s right, Echo can only repeat what people say, she doesn’t have a voice of her own yet has the last word. She chases him throughout the dark woods without managing to woo this divine youth, who most certainly has left a long trail of broken hearts, men and women alike! However, Echo is bursting to say things that would melt his heart and make him hers forever… the poor dear cannot do anything about it. So, she is crying her eyes out behind a large tree by the lake when who should bend over and bring his heavenly face to the waters, but Narcissus himself. When he sees his reflection in the water, apparently for the first time (uh huh!), he is so mesmerized with his own beauty that he says, “I love you!” Now was the only chance Echo had and she said “I love you!” with all her heart.
But Narcissus who wouldn’t even look at anyone but the young man staring back at him with thick curly locks, deep blue eyes and a handsome physique, asked her to get lost. Apparently, Narcissus kept beckoning his beloved to him, who obviously wouldn’t budge. When he would put his hand into the water to touch this young man, the reflection would get disturbed which would break Narcissus’ heart! So, poor Narcissus quit food and drink and withered away in self love, yup, he died! However when Echo came in to fetch her beloved’s remains, where he lay by the lake, was no body to be found… instead there were a bunch of the prettiest flowers she had seen. Well… at least, all this tragedy had a good outcome in form of the flowers which are still called narcissus.
That was Narcissus, probably the pioneer of the cult we call 'metrosexuals'; but what about the young men who pretty much follow his footsteps? Most of the guys I know are quite taken with themselves and spend hours in the bathroom and in front of the mirror! Their hair are longer and better maintained than the girls (ouch!). Straight or gay, the men have taken over our stereotypically inherited domain of beauty. It’s no longer, gyms for men and salons for women… well equality among the sexes is one thing; and well, narcissism is another! Poor Echo and her feelings still remain quite neglected. I do feel sorry for Narcissus and all, but I can’t help thinking that he was such a jerk! And I am no Echo to be with a man like him… I’d much rather just move on!
But Narcissus who wouldn’t even look at anyone but the young man staring back at him with thick curly locks, deep blue eyes and a handsome physique, asked her to get lost. Apparently, Narcissus kept beckoning his beloved to him, who obviously wouldn’t budge. When he would put his hand into the water to touch this young man, the reflection would get disturbed which would break Narcissus’ heart! So, poor Narcissus quit food and drink and withered away in self love, yup, he died! However when Echo came in to fetch her beloved’s remains, where he lay by the lake, was no body to be found… instead there were a bunch of the prettiest flowers she had seen. Well… at least, all this tragedy had a good outcome in form of the flowers which are still called narcissus.
That was Narcissus, probably the pioneer of the cult we call 'metrosexuals'; but what about the young men who pretty much follow his footsteps? Most of the guys I know are quite taken with themselves and spend hours in the bathroom and in front of the mirror! Their hair are longer and better maintained than the girls (ouch!). Straight or gay, the men have taken over our stereotypically inherited domain of beauty. It’s no longer, gyms for men and salons for women… well equality among the sexes is one thing; and well, narcissism is another! Poor Echo and her feelings still remain quite neglected. I do feel sorry for Narcissus and all, but I can’t help thinking that he was such a jerk! And I am no Echo to be with a man like him… I’d much rather just move on!
Besides, which girl'd want a man who is prettier than her and gets manicures more times a month than she does! So guys, if you think the chicas will like you any better if u hit up the salons... you're wrong, cause we would rather have a badly dressed rugged looking hunk than a pretty guy dressed and looking better than us. It isnt for nothing that John Ab, cut off his locks and is hotter than ever! O and, keep that stubble, it suits you and works wonders! ;)
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Dusk
Isn’t night yet
Nor is it day,
But the sky shines bright
With a kiss of night’s ardor
A touch of ecstasy
Of deep crimson passion
To the wide blue of the innocent sky
The birds fly homewards at the brilliant sundown
Stars peep in to announce
The arrival of the moon maiden
She isn’t her diamond self,
But a pale dove with a promise
At dusk… it isn’t night yet,
Nor is it day,
Beginning of the end or the end of a beginning?
Nor is it day,
But the sky shines bright
With a kiss of night’s ardor
A touch of ecstasy
Of deep crimson passion
To the wide blue of the innocent sky
The birds fly homewards at the brilliant sundown
Stars peep in to announce
The arrival of the moon maiden
She isn’t her diamond self,
But a pale dove with a promise
At dusk… it isn’t night yet,
Nor is it day,
Beginning of the end or the end of a beginning?
Twenty on 20!
It was the dream final that left cricket enthusiasts pinching themselves to snap back to reality. Pakistan was 152 down for 9 wickets, 6 runs to go for 4 balls… a target quite achievable. What a nail biter! People were jumping around muttering curses, mantras, prayers, resolutions anything that could make them win.
After ages, the family came together to watch the titans battle it out… no one ate but there was enough food around. The chilled beers started losing out on the fizz, but nobody seemed to bother. Grandma and Grandpa had their malas in their hands… Mum left the kitchen unattended for the first time in years, Dad came home early. The phones were switched off, the teen queen wasn’t watching ‘Friends’ today, the rocker was home before time! It was drama at its best! Even SRK couldn’t resist flying all the way to the stadium.
It seemed everyone had lost interest in cricket after the whole ‘match fixing’ drama happened. Cricket had become too predictable until Zimbabwe, India and Pakistan beat the then World Champions one after the other. Twenty20 was a real hero for cricket in India; people loved the short matches, new players and of course, the cheer leaders! Young talent from all the teams got the perfect podium in South Africa, they won many hearts too. The finale was to die for, what better entertainment than India v/s Pakistan!!! Both teams as usual gave eachother a tough fight throughout the match, now however it was the final judgement, the last over. Anything could happen.
Joginder Sharma bowled and Misbah aimed for the obvious full toss, the ball went straight up in the air looked like he had it! But Sreesanth caught it… it was the catch that would be remembered forever. India did win the T20 WC but Cricket emerged as the ultimate winner, winning fans all over the globe it became yet again… a passion, a religion.
After ages, the family came together to watch the titans battle it out… no one ate but there was enough food around. The chilled beers started losing out on the fizz, but nobody seemed to bother. Grandma and Grandpa had their malas in their hands… Mum left the kitchen unattended for the first time in years, Dad came home early. The phones were switched off, the teen queen wasn’t watching ‘Friends’ today, the rocker was home before time! It was drama at its best! Even SRK couldn’t resist flying all the way to the stadium.
It seemed everyone had lost interest in cricket after the whole ‘match fixing’ drama happened. Cricket had become too predictable until Zimbabwe, India and Pakistan beat the then World Champions one after the other. Twenty20 was a real hero for cricket in India; people loved the short matches, new players and of course, the cheer leaders! Young talent from all the teams got the perfect podium in South Africa, they won many hearts too. The finale was to die for, what better entertainment than India v/s Pakistan!!! Both teams as usual gave eachother a tough fight throughout the match, now however it was the final judgement, the last over. Anything could happen.
Joginder Sharma bowled and Misbah aimed for the obvious full toss, the ball went straight up in the air looked like he had it! But Sreesanth caught it… it was the catch that would be remembered forever. India did win the T20 WC but Cricket emerged as the ultimate winner, winning fans all over the globe it became yet again… a passion, a religion.
damn those columnists!
A huge number of articles were printed following the recent rape and murder of another BPO worker in Pune. One of the leading newspapers in India boasted of another such article which I came across, which blamed victim for her own condition! This columnist claimed that ‘these young girls throw caution to the winds’. His case, she agreed to get into the bus without her male coworkers, her big mistake, to be remunerated for with her life. The driver of course, isn’t to be blamed for if his victim is kissing/hugging her male counterpart in the parking lot; which he most obviously assumed as his right to partake! My case-- just about a week back, two girls around 20 of age were walking back from the very famous Inorbit Mall, Mumbai, at around 11pm; when suddenly a biker, blind-drunk, stops near them and tries to grab the one of them, cat calling very loudly; loud enough to stop a car or two. There were many people on the road, everyone looked on, did the absolute nothing to alter the scene; excellent audience, I’d say. Now, how safe, I ask, would this BPO chick be even if her male coworkers were in the bus that day, any guarantee she’d be alive today?
I haven’t the slightest idea how any newspaper can print such utter non-sense. Don’t they realize that they are almost sympathizing with these rapists and murders and promoting crime against women? Is this the price to pay if a woman is capable of earning a livelihood for herself? Does this columnist mean that women should be home back by 7 whereas men can dog the city whenever and however they would please? Why should women be subject to this curfew if men aren’t! I am sure this BPO worker’s male counterpart reached home safely and had a good night’s sleep. Why then, should women be a victim to the narrow outlook of such men? Even if this particular driver was drunk (which he shouldn’t be on duty, by the way); why should he feel comfortable coveting this delicious pie, as the columnist put it. Is he inwardly applausing this killer driver to teach this girl a good lesson for being independent and alive?!?!
It’s the age old tradition of looking upon women as objects of possession. If yours, keep her safe and secured and in picture-perfect condition; if not, get her to be yours! Probably this is one of the reasons people think reopening dance-bars would reduce crime against women, it’s pathetic! With the million changes happening in ‘modern’ India, this much needed change of looking at women as more than just objects of pleasure and as equals fails to manifest itself. If this is the condition in metro-cities, I wonder, what it would be in the more rural regions.
I haven’t the slightest idea how any newspaper can print such utter non-sense. Don’t they realize that they are almost sympathizing with these rapists and murders and promoting crime against women? Is this the price to pay if a woman is capable of earning a livelihood for herself? Does this columnist mean that women should be home back by 7 whereas men can dog the city whenever and however they would please? Why should women be subject to this curfew if men aren’t! I am sure this BPO worker’s male counterpart reached home safely and had a good night’s sleep. Why then, should women be a victim to the narrow outlook of such men? Even if this particular driver was drunk (which he shouldn’t be on duty, by the way); why should he feel comfortable coveting this delicious pie, as the columnist put it. Is he inwardly applausing this killer driver to teach this girl a good lesson for being independent and alive?!?!
It’s the age old tradition of looking upon women as objects of possession. If yours, keep her safe and secured and in picture-perfect condition; if not, get her to be yours! Probably this is one of the reasons people think reopening dance-bars would reduce crime against women, it’s pathetic! With the million changes happening in ‘modern’ India, this much needed change of looking at women as more than just objects of pleasure and as equals fails to manifest itself. If this is the condition in metro-cities, I wonder, what it would be in the more rural regions.
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