30th May,2014
Jawahar Bhawan, IIT
Roorkee
9.15 pm
As I write this, I am
almost one month away before my two year long vacation ends, whether it’s a happy
or a sad ending, only time will tell. But as Sylvia Plath says
“I shut my eyes and
all the world drops dead,
I lift my lids and
everything is born again”
As
I write this, I am bored, of an empty room, and Ms Word -_- , which irritates
me to a great extent. Asking a poet to write an analytical report is like
asking a Japanese to speak Tamil, both the attempts will be meekly successful,
however thanks to Mrs. Sampson and Mrs. Shukrey( My English literature teachers
in school), my vocabulary helped me in publishing two papers recently.
The
past two years have been a mix of extremes, extreme joy, drunken nights, weed…
huge amounts of irritating paperwork and cups of tea, shared cigarettes, empty
pockets and an empty wallet. I have been to places, yes, literally and in my
dreams, Auroville…Germany…and now back to Ghaziabad and Roorkee. Albeit the
mental peace and calm of Germany is missing, there is a certain contentment when
you accept the facts of life, as they are. One fact being still jobless after
being a masters from an IIT, however, I say IITs are a little much over hyped.
In
Germany I learnt how to live alone, how to cook, how to be strong when everyone
around is speaking German and you don’t understand a word…Culture shock…literally….!!
I have spent cold, wintery nights outside railway stations, sleeping in a café,
only to find my phone being stolen the next morning. So far, there have been
amazing moments and tales to tell.
But
now, there is a strange fear, fear of the outer world, when finally the student
life ends, everyone will move on….friends with whom you spend almost 15 hours
of your day might never be seen again, and this sucks, literally. So is the
feeling when your best friends ignore you after you come back being away and
all alone for 7 months. But I have no regrets, no one to blame. For I learned,
how to be fake and strong. How to be a nerd and yet trying to fit in with the
usual crowd. The mind becomes a palimpsest in such situations, over which
layers and layers of thought and reverie has been inscribed and yet the heart
remains motionless to convey others what one feels.
Quite
often, it’s foolish to expect a moral support from your peers and friends, when
all you know is the bitter truth that life is never going to be same again. As
they always say “Life is not a bed of roses”. This is brutally true in this
professional world, and the sooner one accepts the truth, the better.
Somehow,
all the life of Germany, the casual summery days of Auroville, seem like a
distant dream lived and achieved now. The only things existing around me
nowadays are cigarettes, empty cups of tea and a closed room where nobody
enters.
“If
only I could ignore, hate and pride and fear,
If
only I can keep myself strong….!!”
However,
there is a certainty that the coming times will be for eventual betterment of
the soul, and it might be God’s another plan to give a surprise after huge
shocks. When someone chats with me nowadays, I am brutally sarcastic and I reply
to him or her “ I am undergoing a emotional, physical, mental and financial
crisis, wanna help ??” .
And
the person goes offline…!! Rofl…!!
Anger
at times is good and at times it consumes a part of your heart, and makes it
bitter. But the poetic blood in me keeps me strong and gives me strength to
vent my anger through words.
“
The blood jet is poetry, there is no stopping it…!!”
And
there will be no stopping it…!! For the time being…. Maybe I had a premonition
of what is coming through when I wrote this:
I am devoid of the worldly
dreams;
Of colors red and bright
Of promises like shattered glass
Of the moonlit filled night...
I am devoid of the love...
And its vaccum of pain...
An emotion was so pure..
It sickens and dies...
Trapped in my Poetic world..
The cage closes around my eyes..
I am nocturnal and devoid of
slumber..
and its honey heavy dew...
No more chats to be remembered..
No more flickering laughter...
Choking pain has devored the
joy..
The beginning of another
slaughter..
I am devoid of the lunatic
madness..
Immersing myself in "My
world"
No papers to write upon..
No ink to stain those whites..
Utterly empty and disguised...
Under a secret cloak it lies...
I am devoid of the cheerful
pastels...
That stain my clothes and yet are
colorless...
The eerie sounds of the dark
The battling spirits engulf the
diaphragm and choke...
Two rubber bags pumping in and
out..
Four chambered device that once
spoke...
I am devoid of the trivial
joys...
The buzzing of the night..the
shriek of the howlet...
MY WORLD takes me in...i am
complete now...
Sinking into the tiny eye of the
cyclone...
Swallowing me in ..arbitrarily...
The eyes that shone..now dimmed
and gone...
I am devoid of the worldly
dreams..
Of colors red and bright
of promises like shattered glass
Of the moonlit filled night...
I am devoid of the love...
And its vaccum of pain...
I am nocturnal and devoid of
slumber..
and its honey heavy dew...
I am devoid of the lunatic
madness..
Immersing myself in "My
world"
my godd bhaii.... this ones indeed an interesting piece of writing.. i can go all out to get it publicised!! you are onto something huge soon... yes!! i see something coming!! :) *cheers!*
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