The blue covers my blues
i do meet a certain end
however i wish, all i amuse
i do know where to bend
with beaches only i wish to elope
the volcanoes surely do i cope
I get in return are isotopes
for all i encompass i m still alone
for a companion i remain a stranger
I am the mood, mode and mean
I am the only one around, I am the fear
a nightmare i am after an enchanting dream
from nowhere i come, nowhere do i go
from streams, rivers, seas and sewer
to land, island, sands sans embargo
still no one calls me dear
the dawn draws, the dusk lurks,
didn't do anything to make that work,
moonlit tides are nice and benign
here too come tsunami like evil design
emptiness i show with a buoyant face
the fish roam around in their only place
treacheries planned in me every now n then
for all the depth, counted in shallow men
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Monday, November 23, 2009
Absurd is the wor(l)d
The bomber once decided to be noble,
Nobel he was and so were his roubles,
in search of others, he stocked home
with a band of idiots to save his trouble.
Brothers tried and we flied,
armed with razors, brothers' sake some died,
without heads whom would man hat
s or b: which side you decide.
----------------------------------------------
Beggars beg, bankers borrow,
when bankers beg, its everyone's sorrow,
married are punished, philanderer treasured,
in search of a better tomorrow
Everyone's fine in their prime,
God helps those who are destined,
Oh divine!! what happens in sub-prime
I help me, I'm mad, off I go as a crime
------------------------------------------------
I know someone who can lend his hand,
I know because they've always been grand,
they bow, force out of the blue
Stars they have been on this very land.
Some men here bow to be shallow,
buck they pass, bucks they follow,
they greed then breed just to lead
we choose same saying everyone's hollow
------------------------------------------------
I know one game and its old,
I know its players and its goal,
they pray they prey till this day
in the name of god to purify the soul
In the cradle I am named,
in my youth I am claimed
they say: mausoleum is better than a grave
as ashes I realise, I was betrayed
--------------------------------------------
A piece of land, a paradise,
in its youth met a sad demise,
to own their mother brothers fight
with whom does the mother subside
We are here, we are there,
when we say they should hear,
voices are too muffled to be clear
divided we are, they deserve a sneer
---------------------------------------------
P.S. :
Para 1: Alfred Nobel, Stockholm
Para 2: Wright Brothers, Manhattan, O_ama
Para 4: Madoff
Para 5: hand- congress, bofors, bluestar
Para 6: Politcs
Para 7,8: Religion
Para 9: Land- Kashmir
Para 10: India Pakistan
Nobel he was and so were his roubles,
in search of others, he stocked home
with a band of idiots to save his trouble.
Brothers tried and we flied,
armed with razors, brothers' sake some died,
without heads whom would man hat
s or b: which side you decide.
----------------------------------------------
Beggars beg, bankers borrow,
when bankers beg, its everyone's sorrow,
married are punished, philanderer treasured,
in search of a better tomorrow
Everyone's fine in their prime,
God helps those who are destined,
Oh divine!! what happens in sub-prime
I help me, I'm mad, off I go as a crime
------------------------------------------------
I know someone who can lend his hand,
I know because they've always been grand,
they bow, force out of the blue
Stars they have been on this very land.
Some men here bow to be shallow,
buck they pass, bucks they follow,
they greed then breed just to lead
we choose same saying everyone's hollow
------------------------------------------------
I know one game and its old,
I know its players and its goal,
they pray they prey till this day
in the name of god to purify the soul
In the cradle I am named,
in my youth I am claimed
they say: mausoleum is better than a grave
as ashes I realise, I was betrayed
--------------------------------------------
A piece of land, a paradise,
in its youth met a sad demise,
to own their mother brothers fight
with whom does the mother subside
We are here, we are there,
when we say they should hear,
voices are too muffled to be clear
divided we are, they deserve a sneer
---------------------------------------------
P.S. :
Para 1: Alfred Nobel, Stockholm
Para 2: Wright Brothers, Manhattan, O_ama
Para 4: Madoff
Para 5: hand- congress, bofors, bluestar
Para 6: Politcs
Para 7,8: Religion
Para 9: Land- Kashmir
Para 10: India Pakistan
Thursday, March 26, 2009
SMS Novel
Wen a dot became a blot
Chapter 1
D-7, 13 ws a window seat wich ws incdentaly mine dat day. Startin a journy frm an arid region in d month of june ws alwaz going to b a painstakin effort. D gloom ws evident on my face & d weathr did nothing 2 alter dat. I felt the creepiness as if sume1 hd desertd me in d desert, it nonchalantly added to my unblissful state.
Chapter 2
I wishd my co-passengers wud gv me sum respite bt a garrulous young man, a cynical old man, a mother wid a cryin baby turnd down my request. The heat cud nt be lft far behind as it perpetually braved my sleep. Newspaprs stale in content, a lifeles ipod & a defunct chargin point above my head didn’t help either.
Chapter 3
D train stoppd. 1 hr & 2 stations hd elapsd btwn my struggle. D clatter of rails, hawking of vendors, shrieking anxiety of to-b passengers breached the silence dat engulfed me externally and sumhw stopped d commotion inside me. I deboarded the train to soothe my glands dat needed water and empty some.
Chapter 4
Standng at d door I waitd 4 d train 2 move & the new neighbors to settle down. First d coolie, den d kiosk, finally d station turnd in2 a dot, d same momnt my legs urgd me to be back on my seat. There wasnt any addition 2 the futile list. After gazng out of d windw in2 a contiguous and monotonous landscape, I was fortunate enuf 2 b embracd by my dreams. Tick, Tick ……..
Chapter 5
They say dreams don’t last forevr, mine lastd 300 seconds. TT ws d culprit dis time & d onus ws on me nw to nt b 1. Reconcild 2 d fact dat he ws only doing his duty, I hd to hold back ill feelings against him( as it alwaz happns wid each interaction). The baby was silent & sleeping aftr a very long time, n I envied him of nt carrying himself.
Chapter 6
I ws caught in d eeriness of time, dat tread like a snail wen I wantd it to b lightning quick coz I knew it ws capable of but also knew it wont. A long journey still lied infront of me & i ws waitng 4 sumthng 2 happen. My gut feeling ws probably following my desire; it anticipated a positive change. I was rational enuf to bank on my other 5 senses to quash the illusion.
Chapter 7
Bt I ws wrong. My dependable senses nt only tasted bt also gorged on wat d sixth thot of. In came a person wobbling, carrying luggage on both sides. D manner showd it wsnt his. He enquired, “Is it D-7?” The young man ws quick to his feet and replied, “Yes, what is ur seat no.?” Not heeding to hm the man with luggage called out aloud, “It is here only, COME”.
Chapter 8
There ws an adreline rush in my stomach and mayb othrs as well, on d prospect of a new neighbor. It touched rock bottom (definitely 4 others as well) at the sight of a middle-aged man. Bt again thumpd back wen he crossed the entire aisle. We all nw were ready for a patient wait. And patience paid. The eyes spotted an oasis.
Chapter 9
Don’t know wat kind of thirst is quenched on seeing a gal in her early twenties, bt it was quenchd. The fair skin, soft hues of her attire and the unlocking locks offered a gift to the bulging eyes. The dryness of weathr evaporated & it raind. Her words trickled into ears as if dry earth was being pacified by d first drops of rain. Her aroma refreshed d whole compartment. The coach came 2 life.
Chapter 10
I ws still observing her as d analysis hd 2 continue. I strained hard on my memory & found I hdnt seen any1 like her for quite a while nw. It ws as if I ws being compensatd 4 d loss. Suddenly something troubld me, bt a sharp look on her vermillion-less forehead relievd me. The look of d young man suggested he had made d discovery earlier.
Chapter 11
The young man’s tongue wagged frenetically, the old man rued his age despondently, the mother envied the gals’ beauty and the child curious eyes observed hw delightful d nature cud b. We all were 4 d first time bound by a common interst. The gal stood confused looking at d 2 vacant seats. I am an atheist bt I prayd to god dat she sits on D-8 & cuts short my wait. I m still an atheist.
Chapter 12
She sat on D-5, beside the young man. I value thngs given to me, thrfore ws elatd to see her in front of me if nt beside. Afraid of her catching my eye, hopeful dat she talks to my eyes, I watchd my Clementine clandestinely. There was a perfect harmony in the movement of chin and eyes; each of her glance forced my chin to drop & eyeballs to roll. The process repeatd for hours. And then…..
Chapter 13
My heartbeat stoppd as she got up and advanced 2wards me. She ws within touchng distance frm me, & my fear-frozen body ws measuring her proximity to me. With a charger in her hand, she tried to explore d services of the point. I longed for an elongated momnt. “STOP” yelled the young man, “It doesn’t work” sharing the experience gaind by me. And she retreatd.
Chapter 14
I gatherd myself. The young man ws busy fueling our rivalry thru a non-stop blabber. I yearned for placation of my othr 2 senses dat were still kept at bay. I hesitatd, waitd for a right momnt, tried to draw some courage. All in vain. D journey ws about 2 end. D momnts teased me, my shyness made fun of me, & my failure troubled me. Finally I hd made up my mind. I ws about to open my mouth.
Chapter 15
I heard a familiar voice saying hello to me. It came in from the front. It ws her voice. She talktd 2 me. She talkd to me!!!! In the jubilation I cudnt catch the next few words. It ws sumthng like “Tease me” NO... “Squeeze me” NO…. Till I made sense of anything she leapd at her luggage, pushed my legs and off she went. The train hd stoppd & she hd deboarded it. I cud nw make sense of it “EXCUSE ME”
Chapter 16
I again watchd desperately back at the station only to realize dat this wud b again 1 of the dots. (It wsnt, it ws a blot)I closed my fist and rammed into d second hand. Somethng hurt me. It ws my engagement ring. Unfortunately it became a part of me last week only bt the presenter cudn’t . My destination hd arrivd. My fiancé ws waiting 4 me. I hd to be with her frm nw on. I ws. N I did well. N I still am.
Chapter 1
D-7, 13 ws a window seat wich ws incdentaly mine dat day. Startin a journy frm an arid region in d month of june ws alwaz going to b a painstakin effort. D gloom ws evident on my face & d weathr did nothing 2 alter dat. I felt the creepiness as if sume1 hd desertd me in d desert, it nonchalantly added to my unblissful state.
Chapter 2
I wishd my co-passengers wud gv me sum respite bt a garrulous young man, a cynical old man, a mother wid a cryin baby turnd down my request. The heat cud nt be lft far behind as it perpetually braved my sleep. Newspaprs stale in content, a lifeles ipod & a defunct chargin point above my head didn’t help either.
Chapter 3
D train stoppd. 1 hr & 2 stations hd elapsd btwn my struggle. D clatter of rails, hawking of vendors, shrieking anxiety of to-b passengers breached the silence dat engulfed me externally and sumhw stopped d commotion inside me. I deboarded the train to soothe my glands dat needed water and empty some.
Chapter 4
Standng at d door I waitd 4 d train 2 move & the new neighbors to settle down. First d coolie, den d kiosk, finally d station turnd in2 a dot, d same momnt my legs urgd me to be back on my seat. There wasnt any addition 2 the futile list. After gazng out of d windw in2 a contiguous and monotonous landscape, I was fortunate enuf 2 b embracd by my dreams. Tick, Tick ……..
Chapter 5
They say dreams don’t last forevr, mine lastd 300 seconds. TT ws d culprit dis time & d onus ws on me nw to nt b 1. Reconcild 2 d fact dat he ws only doing his duty, I hd to hold back ill feelings against him( as it alwaz happns wid each interaction). The baby was silent & sleeping aftr a very long time, n I envied him of nt carrying himself.
Chapter 6
I ws caught in d eeriness of time, dat tread like a snail wen I wantd it to b lightning quick coz I knew it ws capable of but also knew it wont. A long journey still lied infront of me & i ws waitng 4 sumthng 2 happen. My gut feeling ws probably following my desire; it anticipated a positive change. I was rational enuf to bank on my other 5 senses to quash the illusion.
Chapter 7
Bt I ws wrong. My dependable senses nt only tasted bt also gorged on wat d sixth thot of. In came a person wobbling, carrying luggage on both sides. D manner showd it wsnt his. He enquired, “Is it D-7?” The young man ws quick to his feet and replied, “Yes, what is ur seat no.?” Not heeding to hm the man with luggage called out aloud, “It is here only, COME”.
Chapter 8
There ws an adreline rush in my stomach and mayb othrs as well, on d prospect of a new neighbor. It touched rock bottom (definitely 4 others as well) at the sight of a middle-aged man. Bt again thumpd back wen he crossed the entire aisle. We all nw were ready for a patient wait. And patience paid. The eyes spotted an oasis.
Chapter 9
Don’t know wat kind of thirst is quenched on seeing a gal in her early twenties, bt it was quenchd. The fair skin, soft hues of her attire and the unlocking locks offered a gift to the bulging eyes. The dryness of weathr evaporated & it raind. Her words trickled into ears as if dry earth was being pacified by d first drops of rain. Her aroma refreshed d whole compartment. The coach came 2 life.
Chapter 10
I ws still observing her as d analysis hd 2 continue. I strained hard on my memory & found I hdnt seen any1 like her for quite a while nw. It ws as if I ws being compensatd 4 d loss. Suddenly something troubld me, bt a sharp look on her vermillion-less forehead relievd me. The look of d young man suggested he had made d discovery earlier.
Chapter 11
The young man’s tongue wagged frenetically, the old man rued his age despondently, the mother envied the gals’ beauty and the child curious eyes observed hw delightful d nature cud b. We all were 4 d first time bound by a common interst. The gal stood confused looking at d 2 vacant seats. I am an atheist bt I prayd to god dat she sits on D-8 & cuts short my wait. I m still an atheist.
Chapter 12
She sat on D-5, beside the young man. I value thngs given to me, thrfore ws elatd to see her in front of me if nt beside. Afraid of her catching my eye, hopeful dat she talks to my eyes, I watchd my Clementine clandestinely. There was a perfect harmony in the movement of chin and eyes; each of her glance forced my chin to drop & eyeballs to roll. The process repeatd for hours. And then…..
Chapter 13
My heartbeat stoppd as she got up and advanced 2wards me. She ws within touchng distance frm me, & my fear-frozen body ws measuring her proximity to me. With a charger in her hand, she tried to explore d services of the point. I longed for an elongated momnt. “STOP” yelled the young man, “It doesn’t work” sharing the experience gaind by me. And she retreatd.
Chapter 14
I gatherd myself. The young man ws busy fueling our rivalry thru a non-stop blabber. I yearned for placation of my othr 2 senses dat were still kept at bay. I hesitatd, waitd for a right momnt, tried to draw some courage. All in vain. D journey ws about 2 end. D momnts teased me, my shyness made fun of me, & my failure troubled me. Finally I hd made up my mind. I ws about to open my mouth.
Chapter 15
I heard a familiar voice saying hello to me. It came in from the front. It ws her voice. She talktd 2 me. She talkd to me!!!! In the jubilation I cudnt catch the next few words. It ws sumthng like “Tease me” NO... “Squeeze me” NO…. Till I made sense of anything she leapd at her luggage, pushed my legs and off she went. The train hd stoppd & she hd deboarded it. I cud nw make sense of it “EXCUSE ME”
Chapter 16
I again watchd desperately back at the station only to realize dat this wud b again 1 of the dots. (It wsnt, it ws a blot)I closed my fist and rammed into d second hand. Somethng hurt me. It ws my engagement ring. Unfortunately it became a part of me last week only bt the presenter cudn’t . My destination hd arrivd. My fiancé ws waiting 4 me. I hd to be with her frm nw on. I ws. N I did well. N I still am.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Obituary
Perched high on heights of vanity,
treats higher levels with profanity,
oblivious to the fact of gravity,
still far from accepting insanity.
Doors to immortality shut on the face,
seems one of those days,
of lost opportunities to show up an ace,
futile aspirations cut down by unflinching chase.
The first love betrays once more,
but still, it remains The love,
Embracing it, is the only solace
from its own hideous perpetual assaults.
A silent storm, a chronic quake,
rocks a self created heaven
weathers to crumbled rubble,
the feigned foundation of the turgid castle.
With plunging self-esteem, broken heart,
wounded thoughts, depleted belief,
trimmed wings, truncated desires,
a grounded mind and a buried body
a crow amongst crows all black,
armed with eagle eyes and a ruthless approach,
like a phoenix emerging from ashes
will live to live another day
the day will come when grapes be sweet
soaring skies be within its reach
having no regrets, nothing to weep
achieving whatever it wishes to seek
treats higher levels with profanity,
oblivious to the fact of gravity,
still far from accepting insanity.
Doors to immortality shut on the face,
seems one of those days,
of lost opportunities to show up an ace,
futile aspirations cut down by unflinching chase.
The first love betrays once more,
but still, it remains The love,
Embracing it, is the only solace
from its own hideous perpetual assaults.
A silent storm, a chronic quake,
rocks a self created heaven
weathers to crumbled rubble,
the feigned foundation of the turgid castle.
With plunging self-esteem, broken heart,
wounded thoughts, depleted belief,
trimmed wings, truncated desires,
a grounded mind and a buried body
a crow amongst crows all black,
armed with eagle eyes and a ruthless approach,
like a phoenix emerging from ashes
will live to live another day
the day will come when grapes be sweet
soaring skies be within its reach
having no regrets, nothing to weep
achieving whatever it wishes to seek
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Decision
Here come the pros dancing with a bated breath,
Hearing the footsteps of a distant yes,
I feel their positive vibes enchanting me,
waiting for approval to hug me.
Aha! I have been bequeathed the power to decide,
Sagacity thus obtained is a welcome accomplice.
I let the conceited crown adorn me
and the moment to overwhelm me.
Saying Caution!! Pragmatism seizes serenity,
It warns: “a danger is lurking”,
Inkling of a con is disturbing,
The vicious shadow is again troubling.
In the battle of supremacy,
I let go the wisdom acquired.
Leaving pro to decide,
If con is better or should he suicide.
In the Pyrrhic victory
Has the motion died?
Would doing rather thinking be safer?
Letting history, success or failures recite
Has a coward emerged victorious?
Or the jerk prisoned?
Has a meticulous soldier triumphed?
Or the-one-who-just-does-it is ostracized
Am I wise to believe my premonition?
Or am I brave to act and face the consequential action?
Should I have patience and introspect?
Or should I believe my instincts and look in retrospect?
I think, I fail, I am dumb
I think, I succeed, I could have just done it,
I do, I fail, I could have thought over it
I do, I succeed, this is the best I can
Do I decide to take a decision, and then decide how well I decided?
Or do I take a decision, and then decide how well the decision was?
Hearing the footsteps of a distant yes,
I feel their positive vibes enchanting me,
waiting for approval to hug me.
Aha! I have been bequeathed the power to decide,
Sagacity thus obtained is a welcome accomplice.
I let the conceited crown adorn me
and the moment to overwhelm me.
Saying Caution!! Pragmatism seizes serenity,
It warns: “a danger is lurking”,
Inkling of a con is disturbing,
The vicious shadow is again troubling.
In the battle of supremacy,
I let go the wisdom acquired.
Leaving pro to decide,
If con is better or should he suicide.
In the Pyrrhic victory
Has the motion died?
Would doing rather thinking be safer?
Letting history, success or failures recite
Has a coward emerged victorious?
Or the jerk prisoned?
Has a meticulous soldier triumphed?
Or the-one-who-just-does-it is ostracized
Am I wise to believe my premonition?
Or am I brave to act and face the consequential action?
Should I have patience and introspect?
Or should I believe my instincts and look in retrospect?
I think, I fail, I am dumb
I think, I succeed, I could have just done it,
I do, I fail, I could have thought over it
I do, I succeed, this is the best I can
Do I decide to take a decision, and then decide how well I decided?
Or do I take a decision, and then decide how well the decision was?
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Is life worth the risk...........
This was the topic i chose for the seminar's application which i attended last week. I had loads of fun while discussing arguing varied facets of public policies in different domains with people from diverse educational backgrounds. While applying i had to write on the following topic which i am sharing with you..........
Coffee has caffeine, water has pesticides, and the road can kill you — is life worth the risk?
From womb to tomb we face innocuous situations that threaten our lives. Its really a journey backwards when we count what all is left rather what we lived for. Pleasure of life is cut down by the fear of death. What we need to see is if the “road” is worth traveling.
I being an engineering student would like to prove empirically that life is at least considered to be wonderful if not wonderful. There are 6 billion people on this earth, only 1% (it may be on the higher side) would chose to end their lives consciously. Should I ask why?? Nobody leads an easy life, there are hardships following you every moment, then why is everybody so keen to enhance their chances of living?? What is the need of Medical Science???
Darwin too pointed out that each living being struggles for existence and only the fittest survives, if life is not desirable why should there be any struggle??
Why is everybody so elated on birth of a new-born and express sorrow when one is dead??
What I would like to convey is Life indeed is beautiful. It is the fulcrum of our civilization. What disillusions us from the pleasure of life is obviousness of the fact that we are living. Coffee may have caffeine but it has a distinct taste liked by many, water may have pesticides but it is the elixir of life. I would also like to point out that life without risks is also not worth living as the essence will be lost. The “struggle” is indispensable.
Let’s look from the perspective of a lifeless object – stone. A stone would neither deny nor recognise its existence, nor would it get disturbed to be classified as a pebble or a rock, neither would it hail itself coming from grassland nor rue its lineage from deserts. Neither would it worry if it’s eroded by a river or caressed by a stream.
This “life” has everything to it minus the emotions, relations, views, attitudes, risks inconsequential of action, futile struggle. If living was so miserable why doesn’t one aspire to be a stone?
I’ll summarize by few lines:
Between us and cosmos comes a veil,
In pursuit of desires we trail and fail,
Happiness too we seek, but in vain,
Our last refuge: Life gives us all pain.
I hope one day l’ll find life’s true meaning,
I’ll know what am I aiming,
Till then, does life cease to be entertaining?
Subjugated to man’s constant complaining
I’ ll wait for the day when life -
Breaking its shambles, evolves from dungeons,
Saying yes I am livable, yes I am lovable,
Alas, that will be final of my stumbles.
Monday, August 11, 2008
The Irony of me being Me
"If the desire to write is not accompanied by actual writing then the desire is not to write" - 'Notes to Myself'
All the while I was justifying myself and others why I didn't write, when someone was expecting it so dearly, this statement found me guilty.
Isn't it ironical, the more I run from situations, more frequently they run me down? The closer I inch towards a problem, the encompassing cordon of myth and disbelief delves the problem into anonymity. Life trains you to grin and bear each moment but it's always others who bear me and life grins at me.
I perpetually ponder.............
The person you love the most, gets hurt by you the most. Each one of us is happy in a unique way which seems almost non-existent. More often than not you know what you want to own in life but hardly cling on to what is your own. The lurking torchbearer inside us settles for a tutelary of the past, present and the future"
I feel many a time that I have led an easy life:
-questioning each moment of my existence answering none;
-ruing every movement of an innocuous clock, whose vicious circle sets a new paradigm (each time) strikingly similar to the first, woven in my abomination, changing none.
I am still in midst of a dilemma whether to declare myself (to me) a loser or again subside to such ephemeral introspective realisations. I am like a horse running the race of life, always strolling and digressing to a lush green meadow but realising again that i am a part of a race, have been betted upon n would hate to be accused by people and more importantly by me myself in case i lose. I am quickly losing ground, need help, which i wont ask coz i never run out of hope.
This is a window into an escapist, optimistic, egoist fellow who happens to be me..........
All the while I was justifying myself and others why I didn't write, when someone was expecting it so dearly, this statement found me guilty.
Isn't it ironical, the more I run from situations, more frequently they run me down? The closer I inch towards a problem, the encompassing cordon of myth and disbelief delves the problem into anonymity. Life trains you to grin and bear each moment but it's always others who bear me and life grins at me.
I perpetually ponder.............
The person you love the most, gets hurt by you the most. Each one of us is happy in a unique way which seems almost non-existent. More often than not you know what you want to own in life but hardly cling on to what is your own. The lurking torchbearer inside us settles for a tutelary of the past, present and the future"
To maintain high levels of confirmity I hideously committed myself to, I think i have lost my true identity. Shakespeare was right in saying
"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players"
I am so engrossed in the reel that i have forgotten the real. I regret my persistence on political correctness, envying people who call a spade a spade. One of my friends candid by nature, labelled as candico by me, knew what i stood for, returned the favour by calling me Ctrl+J (Justify). It seems baffling but i need sanction to act. That is why when people call the shots I am busy collecting the debris.
I feel many a time that I have led an easy life:
-questioning each moment of my existence answering none;
-ruing every movement of an innocuous clock, whose vicious circle sets a new paradigm (each time) strikingly similar to the first, woven in my abomination, changing none.
I am still in midst of a dilemma whether to declare myself (to me) a loser or again subside to such ephemeral introspective realisations. I am like a horse running the race of life, always strolling and digressing to a lush green meadow but realising again that i am a part of a race, have been betted upon n would hate to be accused by people and more importantly by me myself in case i lose. I am quickly losing ground, need help, which i wont ask coz i never run out of hope.
This is a window into an escapist, optimistic, egoist fellow who happens to be me..........
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