One For The Road...

        "Patient's in trauma. Multiple injuries. Check the vitals!", Dr. Prakash barked out orders, swinging the ICU staff promptly into action.
        "110 over 60, airways cleared, pulse faint. Resuming CPR", the assistant doctor responded.
        Kate stood there, petrified like a marble statue, gleaming drops of tears racing down her dusky cheeks. She must have seen hundreds of trauma patients. Hell, she sees them each day of her life. But watching Alex go through the ordeal, was crushing her soul into pieces. Her most special day in life, slowly turning into a vortex of unexpected horror. She felt the reassuring hand of Dr.Prakash on her shoulder. He tried to smile, unsuccessfully though. Kate wiped her tears off, grabbed her coat and joined the staff.
        "Darn! Revive the pulse, quick!"
        "Adrenaline injected. Pulse constant though. Airways getting blocked again"
         Dr.Prakash stared into the X-ray. His eyes showed concern. Kate knew he had over looked something.
         "Shit.The fifth rib's slightly fractured. Must've lacerated the right lung. He's bleeding into it"
         Kate looked at him in the eye. He turned his face to the wall, away from her. "Rush him into surgery. Hemothorax. Lung needs to be fixed. Suck the blood out", he said, walking away from ICU, his head low, his eyes transfixed on the floor.

* * *

          Kate wrapped her arms around Alex tightly. The evening sun was drowning gracefully in a sea of orange. It soaked her messy one-room apartment in quaint sunlight. The day was special to her. She pressed her head against Alex's chest as he fiddled with her hair. Eleven years ago, on this very day they had got into a relationship. To be lying in his arms on such a day, it just felt divine! So perfect her imperfect, monotonous life seemed at that moment!
       "Hey, I feel thirsty!", he yawned. "Get me some chilled water, will you ?"
       "Get it yourself, you lazy ass!"
       He pushed her out of the bed. "You mean lazy, cute ass right?"
       "You're just cruel!", she laughed playfully. She walked over to the fridge, across the room. "Alex, you're one hell of an idiot you know?", she smiled, as she opened the fridge. Her eyes went over to a small, velvet box, glistening in the LED light from behind. She took it her hands. A jewellery box?  She scanned it, flipped it and slowly opened it, not quite sure what it enclosed. What she saw inside, was a ring. "What the..." , she began to say as she turned back.
       Alex was on his knees. "Katie, are you ready to marry this idiot and spend the rest of your life in some sheer stupidity?"
       "Oh my God!", she exclaimed, smiling at the shimmering ring . She was sure it was quite a loud scream.

* * *

         She wasn't allowed to operate on any person whom she personally knows. But Kate had convinced main surgeon, Dr. Mehra to let her in as a second surgeon. The operation room scared her for the first time in her life. The mint green scrubs, the equipment, all of it frightened her. She bit her lip under her procedural mask, as the tension surged.
        The assistant finished his work on the sternum. She opened the rib-cage with a retractor. Though faintly, she could now see his heart actually beat. She wanted to cry. But she held back the tears.  She handed the surgeon a pair of thoracic forceps and rib shears.
        An hour went by. Dr.Mehra looked clueless. Helpless.
        "Hemothorax is worsening!", The techinician interjected.
        "BP is droping. Bleeding accelerating."
         The chest tube was sucking out the blood. But it looked as if there's a flood of it inside. For Kate, everything was whirling around. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.
        "Loss of blood is heavy. 100 over 50"
        "Oxygen levels critical. Patient moving into shock. BP is spiking abruptly!"

* * *

        "Hey jerk, I'm driving!! Get out of the seat!", Jai screamed as he jumped into Alex's i20.
        "Bitch please! You're drunk! I'm the one who'll drive. You shut your cake-hole and hop behind, get me?", Alex said.
        Alex hardly drank. Even today, he hardly had a glassful.
        "What did I even drink?", Jai retorted.
        "5-6 pegs?? Thats enough ethyl alcohol in your system!"
        "I drank to celebrate for you! You proposed Kate! That's celebration time! Sit back and listen some Taylor swift, you lovey-dovey dumbass", he pushed Alex away from the drivers seat. Alex, though reluctantly let him drive. Partly because he got a call from Kate. She seemed super excited.
         Jai drove. Seemingly unaware of the reckless truck taking a sharp turn around the corner. Unaware, that the drive was going to cost him his life.

* * *

         "60 over 30. Sudden fall. He's having an arrest! Any chances for a VAD??"
         "Negligible... BP dropping fatally...We're losing him!"
          Kate trembled. "Do something, for godsakes!", she found herself screaming.
          Dr.Mehra's eyes, however, were fixed on the patient. He checked the pulse on the screen. "Response?"
          "Nil"
          The ECG lines on the computer monitor flattened into a straight line. It echoed a screeching sound.
          "Time of death 12:53 AM", Dr.Mehta said.
          Kate looked at Alex's heart. It had stopped beating. Somewhere inside her, she felt even hers had stopped. Tears dripped down her face, falling like raindrops onto his body. Removing her glove, she stared at the golden ring on her finger...

Every half an hour, a person dies due to drink-driving......

THE NOT-SO-GOOD TIMES OF INDIA

    THE NOT-SO-GOOD TIMES OF INDIA

                                                             21, May 2012.

City

Teen Joins Adivasi Tribe Eyeing ST certificate : 17-year old Bablu D'mello,   resident of Bandra, who secured AIR 13598 in recent JEE has shifted base to Navegoan forests on a mission to attain ST certificate in order to ensure an IIT seat. Bablu has carried along a BMW full of food, his I-pad, Blackberry and has requested offficials to provide uninterrupted Wi-fi connection in Navegaon.

Pride Of Mulund : Lingerie giant Victoria's Secret have employed Mulund-based chaddi-banyan gang as their Indian brand ambassadors. They have been sent special designer chaddis as part of a 10-million contract, as the ring leader Chinnappa revealed. Sources state that the reason behind the deal is that no Bollywood actresses seem to wear panties these days, let alone promote them.

Nation

Didi Celebrates Chelsea Win : Mamata Banerjee, in an open press conference, congratulated Chelsea on their Champions league win. Her support hails from the fact that Bayern Munich wear red. She went on to say that they are German Maoists and CPM cadres.

International

India-Pak Row Over Poop : 12 year old, Kashmiri boy Tinku's dog Rocky has pooped on the Line of Control. India and Pakistan jumped into conflict mode over who will clean Rocky's poop. After high profile meetings, PM Manmohan Singh said that he suspected that Rocky is working with the ISI. Pakistan meanwhile, urged America to intervene.

Bollywood

Tushar Kapoor Sues Maths Teacher : A maths teacher in a reputed school has been sued by Tushar Kapoor. The acccused supposedly showed a student the recent photo of Tushar Kapoor's Moobs when the student asked him what is a cone. Meanwhile, Breast Cancer Awareness agencies are in a hurry to sign Tushar Kapoor, riding on his fame.

Bhatts Remake Twilight : While Emraan Hashmi has been roped in to play Pattinson, Katrina, Deeepika and all other whiny, expressionless girls are in the fray for role of Kristen. The directors declared Sufi songs will be used in the scenes in which Edward stalks Bella.

Sex

With I-condom, Apple Sets The 'Balls Rolling' : The latest Apple product, I-condom, boasts of a length-width adjuster, a 2GB in-built song playlist for setting the mood, 15MP cam for recording live sessions, 3G connectivity for uploading it to your favourite website, and apps like Hard-O-Meter. Women can also like, compare and comment about their partners' 'length' and 'duration' on the WeenieBook App.

(Our columnist Sahinder Salsa is on leave owing to his penis being stuck in a garden hose. The reason he did it, is still unclear)

Sports

Gayle Molests Six : Cricketer Chris Gayle was caught having a sixsome at the Bangalore airport while he was endlessly waiting for the team's KingFisher flight to take off. The star has taken his obsession for sixes to a new level with this. Sources say Siddhrtha Mallya and fellow molester Luke Pomersbach were seen seeking advice from Gayle.

Crossroads.

For all those students, for whom entrances/boards didn't turn out well.

I look ahead, and I see fear. Look backwards, and I see guilt.

That time of year, now it's here; Results, marks, and all that filth.

The chills that run down your spine; Screwdom, you have made me thine.

Hope, now at its highest pitch. Oh fate! thou art a heartless bitch!

A Rank decides all my worth? A dog's collar has greater girth.

What did I do, that turned so wrong?  I did my best, sung my swan song.

Though I've tried, strived all along, Defeat greets me, and mistakes throng.

When I see books, I shed a tear. That the system sucks, its fucking clear.

You plunged ahead to reach the peak; but in all you saw, you saw no end.

Now the world crowns you a freak. You're left alone, no love, no friend.

Is there a backdoor in this maze? Could I just skip away this phase?

You wonder, with a startled gaze, wherein lies that divine face?

Entered the road, with hopes aflame; As I exit it, I seem not the same.

The road ahead's now truly lame; Life's a horrid little unfair game.

At the crossroads, now we stare; Uncertainty, a certain nightmare!

Now where we are, and where we were. I can't fathom life's ways, I swear!!!

The Myriad Faces of a Mumbaite Teenager....

        If you're a Teenager, Mumbaikar, and especially if  a Science student, you have seen/made these 'faces' at some point of your life. A tribute to the average teen in me and you...

1. Frankie Face :  That sophisticated look on your face while trying to decide whether to opt for a cheese frankie or cheese schezwan frankie. Is that schezwan really worth my 5 rupees? Confusing.

2. Sick-of-pic Face : The face you make while the photographer asks you to smile, after you  having taken 10 different photos, for 10 different entrance exams, in the same week, in the same studio.

3. The 'Good Samaritan' Face : The I'll-be-there-for-you-look you wear when you forward a pic of class-notes/ exam time-table to your friend via bluetooth.

4. The 'I PWNED You' Face : The jubilant look you wear  after knifing your enemy/partner while playing Counter-strike.

5. The 'You BC!' Face : This look is one that you give your OBC friend when he secures a better seat than you, having scored  lesser in the exam.

6. The Arjun-Rampal Face : The expressionless expression when your physics practical sir makes you repeat your experiment for the fourth time. You secretly want to whack him with a meter-scale, Ninja style.

7. The 'I Suck At Biology' Face : The face of the math student whose inpromptu Kidney diagram in the Biology exam ended up looking like a foetus wearing a Christmas cap.

8. The 'Scared beyond Limits' Face : The expression of a math-hating student when he moves from Limits to Integration.

9.  Connoisseur Face : The savouring look you give your best friend when he elbows you indicate that a hot girl, with well- endowed assets is passing by.

10. The Homicidal Face : This is the look you give a fellow passenger when he boards a peak-time train and have to get off at a station which comes after yours.

11. 'Footsie' Face : The 'End-of-life' exression on your face while kicking the guy sitting ahead of you in an exam, trying to 'kick' out answers from him.

12. The Aamir Face : The piercing , concern-showing, fake look you give a girl when she whines about her hundreth boyfriend dumping her. Go die, Bitch!

13. The 'Screw Chemistry' Face : The demonic look you give that one extra drop of NaOH which rendered your HCL solution dark pink, instead of light pink.You stupid Drop of a bitch!

14. The 'King of the Jungle' Face : The look of comtempt an IIT aspirant gives his fellow friend when he says he's aiming for CET. No one gives you a damn, dude.

15. 'WTF' face : The look on the students face after seeing this years MHT-CET question paper. I had one. 

                                                                                                                                                       May 17, 2012

                                                                                                                                     

Idlis And Hamburgers.

       India, our beloved nation, trust me, is exactly similar to Pamela Andersons silicon babies. Why? Both are large. And fake. This self-proclaimed superpower is the penguin with wings. Come on, face it dude. You can’t fly with those! We emulate as well as criticize the West in the same breath.

       Do you know the pre-requisites for a wannabe to enter college in India? 1. Grow your hair. OR 2. Smoke. When these wannabes hit the roadblock of monotonicity, the long haired ones smoke, and the ones who smoked, well, grow hair. It’s a vicious cycle. Dude, growing hair and expecting to be the next Chad Kroeger is like applying fair and lovely on your scrotum and expecting it to turn white.

       People say American culture has bad sexual influences on growing kids. What you think teens in Uzbekistan don’t turn out horny? Aping the west in certain matters is not such a bad idea I think. CID is our longest running crime-show. (Imagine Stana Katic saying "Castle! Darwaza Tod Do!!) We have a feminized Jerry Springer in our Rakhi Sawant. Or not. Do our film-makers think we enjoy watching item girls shake their booty in every movie? Dear Bollywood, you're stuck in the pre-internet porn era. IPL is not EPL. Did you hear about Lalit Modi being in England? He went about saying Man City match was spot fixed.

       Last week, the parliament, decided to go against the Western culture and set the age of consent as 18. Kidding me? 90% of the parliament must have screwed their wives when they were thirteen! According to statistics, India says it has 72 nuke warheads and missiles enough to hit any country in the world. Isn't that like saying ' Hey! I have 3 billion sperms in my gun!! I can impregnate the entire women population of the world.’ Wannabe attitude. Grow up.

       India, with their new-found love for cartoonists is in a hurry to rush them behind the bars. What about 26/11 you idjits?? Well, leaked reports state that Ajmal Kasab (I still secretly theorize Pakistan traded him for Sania Mirza) started shrieking loudly in jail, and RAW agents were rushed in. However, later, it was found that he was actually choking on a piece of mutton. Posters of Taliban now go ‘Terrorize India. Get free food and accommodation.' Gaddafi, Saddam and Osama were seen face-palming in hell over why they messed with America and not India. Latest sources claim Obama sent SEALS armed with that devilish pitchfork-thingy to hell in order to maintain peace there. Meanwhile, Indians visiting all foreign countries are advised to stay away from the beaches, as there is the unimaginable terror of seeing a sun-bathing Pratibha Patil there.

       In short, we ape the West in what we shouldn’t and don’t do it in what we’re supposed to. Its time we stopped proclaiming our erectile-dysfunctional rise to power. Last heard, the last episode of ‘Satyamev Jayate’ will have Aamir sorting out Manmohan Singh.

          “With power, comes great responsibility” – Suresh Kalmadi (wait, he didn’t say that???)

                                                                                                                                                                


                                                                                                             May 15, 2012                                                          

Teenage, Boys???

        Teenage is highly overrated bullshit. Teenage, crudely, is somewhat similar to the feeling you get when you buy Titanic tickets to watch 3D boobs and then realize they censored it. The moral of the story is that you dont get what you expected (plus also that you dont get to see 3D boobs in India) Let me break up the 13 to 19 journey for you.

       At 13, for boys, a 'below the knee-school-pant' symbolise their humble ascend to manhood. You enter High school, having attained from your peers, the knowledge of adolescent nirvana. Now you finally know storks dont deliver babies!! Halleluiah! Armed with this knowledge about human reproduction, now for you, girls are no longer the alien beings they used to be. If you couldn't look at them before, now you so want to! (albeit a little below their faces, of course) If you couldn't stand them before, now they make you stand! ( or at least parts of you ) Well, you better get used to this because this is something that you're gonna be doing for pretty much of your life. Well, for some, the transition from PokeMon to American Pie can be quite a 'jaw opener'.

      Then in no time, you're in 10th and teachers treat you like a  4GB pendrive. You're sick of the rote learning. Thinking SSC might actually make a difference in your life is as farfetched as hoping himesh Reshamiya will win a Grammy. Relationships are suddenly the new cool - Its 'I-phone cool' ( Having one is so cool but you just dont know what to do with it) Its like your medium wala paanipuri - you just can't express the taste. The humiliated looks on the girls' face while looking at certain anatomical diagrams in the biology book make exaggeration look exaggerated. For godsakes, its not your vulva! Chill! You're at the cinema with your newly obtained 'girl friend', aiming to scale those twin peaks. Well..Someday. You harmlessly touch her hand and she shrieks "What are you doing?!!" "Nothing! Touching your hand!" And she says "Dont! Thats sex right!!!". Ignorance. Do NOT get in to a relationship when you're immature!

       If school was like reading twilight, then college is like...err..reading breaking dawn. You start believing the teachers at practicals are hardcore Roadies fans, whose obsession drives them into enacting a Roadies audition in the lab every week. You wonder whether they stopped manufacturing those high tech gadgets called 'carbon paper' because you're tired coping an experiment in 5 different books, in 5 different manner. You miss the pen-drive phase because now they expect you to be external hard disks with in-built RAM. You miss the bimbo phase of girls because now your girlfriend is at your heels, shouting that her bra provides her more support than you do. Hell, they've grown.

       Judging your career by your marks in one damn exam as absurd as casting Sunny leone in an Ekta Kapoor saas bahu soap. All the societal pressure on you makes you ask questions like that of a Yogi on the path of salvation. 'Why this life?' 'Why am I doing this? Theres no purpose'.'Why dont we screw the society?' (Maybe the last one wasn't Yogi-like) Rhetorical questions DONT have answers. (Try asking why are the Kardashians famous)

       When you're approaching 18, you'll see those 'OMG! I'm gonna be 18!'ish friends. Why the hell would 18 be different I ask. I get a 'We can drive, vote and have sex' as the answer always. Unless you have BMW, have your own political party or have a girlfriend who says 'Come fuck me', eighteen is much ado about NOTHING.

       Well, I have two years left as a teen. In the meanwhile, there remains no doubt in the next two years I'll be dragged through a lot of crap which the society and education system wil solemnly bestow me with. Let me tell you, I miss the innocence of the tot who used to be excited about wearing a long pant for school, rather than being harassed in the name of career and education. Whatever we do...howmuch ever we grow..we'll always look back for consolation...And you'll see that pre-teen child in you, waving back and asking you to go on....

                 "Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again." -- C.S. Lewis

                                                                                                                                          
                                                                                                           May 14, 2012

                                                                           

Of Rat Races, And Mouse Traps...

        Its summer! The time when the flowers bloom, the crickets chirp, cricketers earn, aam starts selling, the aam aadmi starts yelling, animals emerge from their holes, Man-U count their goals, and the 17 year-old teen climbs up from the hell pit of 'Board exams' and err...jumps into another hell called 'entrances'..(sigh)

       Hell, we write the board exam with the prospect of going home and hugging our CET book. Oh, how I missed them. Thats not all. Then you get a call from your dear coaching class asking you to drag your ass down there. And you're off...cursing them, mouthing shuddh hindi expletives faster than a Thane-CST fast. Colleges and coaching clases have a genuine sense of love for each other (Sarcasm? Nah!) They behave like they're Michael and Lucifer fighting the apocalypse. And in between, humanity (students) gets fucked. Midst the devil and the sea, you hate to be the vertex of the their love triangle. The coaching classes phenomenon has swept India. Their rankers list is the new page 3 for nerds. Integrated tie-ups give you the best (worst) of both worlds. Last heard, my neighbour plans to admit his 3 year old kid to an IIT institute with a nursery tie-up. The kindergarten teaches ABC, coaching staff teaches 123. No kidding.

       Soon enough, you start losing track of how many entrances you write. Now thats because during most of them, all you end up doing is admire your fingerprint, practise your sign, pose for the video shoot and shade innovative designs on the OMR sheet. 28 state CETs, 100s of entrances for each 'elite', national and galli college...Screw the Unity in Diversity slogan!! In India whenever a college's ego gets to its head, the managemnt says 'lets get our own entrance exam! Wont that be fun?!', just the way a tot yearns for a tricycle. Then out comes the results and every who-the-hell-are-you face greets you with a 'beta, kitna aaya?'  You put up a constipated look, while your mind secretely harbours the desire to slow torture the person. You HATE those fake, hyperbole-personified expressions on their damn faces. For every 'itna kam kaise aaya?', you want to slice the person or throw them into Mt. Fujiama or drown them in the Atlantic...or maybe all of these. Now I know how terrorists are born. 

       Now if you're not a student, you wont understand the amount of students vying for a seat. Lemme put this way, take the number of Kurla passengers in a 9:05 local and multiply it by a thousand. Now you get it, dont you? In short, the probability that you'll get a seat is lesser than India winning the FIFA, Baba Ramdev becoming the president, Kristen Stewart showing an expression, Rakhi Sawant winning the national award...Well, you got the point. In this rat race, the mouse trap of reservation is one that intimidates you immensely. 52% seats are reserved?!!! Fuck you. To kill casteism, you eradicate the caste system not promote it! For those of you quoting Ambedkar, the great man asked to implement reservations for 10 years, not a freaking 52 years. For godsake, Martin Luther King didn't go about implementing reservation for blacks. He demanded equality, not partiality. Obama didn't become preseident through reservations. Period. Media reports claim BCCI is planning to implement reservations in IPL. Every team will now have a backward class batsmen, bowler and all-rounder. (Get used to the sarcasm) 

Dear Indian government,

                              'Reservation Policy' is the evolved form of 'Divide and Rule'. Give us our royalty,                                                                                                                                                                                                   Sincerely, The British.

        'Do you know' fact: MBBS stands for 'Bachelor of Medicine,Bachelor of Surgery' and NOT 'Bring Moolah, Bargain Seats'. The agencies selling seats actually make you nostalgic of that wadapav walaon the road. 'Hot deals! Hurry before the offers over!'. I'm pretty sure in a couple of years it'll be somewhat like "Buy a MBBS seat, get a PG seat free!" Cheapness. At times I wonder how these agencies cater to their clients. I can only imagine what they talk.

Client: Areyy bhaiya, 'raahdiology' ka kya bhaav hai?

Agent: Fakta 10 crore saheb.

Client: Aise kaise?!! Baju wala dukhaan me tho 8 crore bola tha!

Agent: 8 crore me aapko...Paediatrics milel saheb...aani gyanecology pan aahet..

Client: Kya farak hai dono me?

Agent: Kahich nahi hai saheb!...ek bacha la baghtho tar doosra kaadtho...

Client: Acha ek Gynaecology de dena..doosre me 'logy' nahi hai...sunne mein acha nahi lagtha...

      Yet, we are the nation who're proud of our education system. From the grassroots to the elite, let me tell you, it sucks. Its not a 'grapes gone sour' thing, but a notion that every Indian student know is true in their minds....

                                          He who opens a school door, closes a prison. Victor Hugo.

                  

                                                                                                                                                                                     May 13, 2012

The Cliched Love Song.....

Life’s antics are a thing to muse,

Its eeriness mutes the sceptic’s views;

I ain’t a monk to preach such words,

I embrace these truths as I look backwards……..

The day when my path crossed with yours,

As a stranger you knocked on my doors.

The casual talks marked the onset,

As our aimless talks stretched till sunset.

From stranger to a friend you grew.

You wrote a chapter in my life anew.

Through thick and thins, you stood by me,

In happy times, we shared our glee.

Your absence made me nostalgic.

A mere rendezvous acted like magic.

Why am I acting oblivious?

When my love for you is but obvious!

You talk about guys, who fell for you,

And say that I’m a friend so true.

Can I ever admit my love for you?

When a mistake can spell a friend’s adieu?

If only my heart was numb!

And my every tear was a gem!

If only you gave me a chance,

I assure we’ll have the best romance…

I can take this pain no more,

Its time I end this tragic lore.

My mind goes fickle when I see your face,

‘It’s now or never’, my heart says.

With fear, I stammer the secret I kept,

Your lips curl into a smile, unlike I fret….

‘I love you, idiot!’ you say; defying my sense!

And you joke whether it’s a coincidence!

Then we laugh how we knew it all along,

Seems fate gave music to my love song.

Life contradicts the pessimist in me,

As I pen down this song happily……

                                     - December 18, 2010

                           

Will You Be There To See Me Then???

Its morning mom, please wake up soon.

You're sleeping since the previous noon.

Who'll kiss me before school now, mom?

Who'll watch me now, as I grow up, mom?

When that two-wheeled cycle I'll learn to ride,

I might often fall. Even get some bruises mild,

Then when I'll race it down the town roadside,

Wont  you be there to see me then?

When in high school, I'll have exams to bear,

Will you be near and kill all my fear?

When grades come, will you hug your dear?

Mom, wont you be there to see me then?

When Grandma's huge piano, I'll learn to play,

I'll keep playing until those keys do fray,

I'll sing and let you have your say,

Wont you be there to see me then?

When from college, I'll graduate one day,

You'll cheer me there, come what may.

I'll spot your face from the stage, I pray.

Mom, wont you be there to see me then?

When once, I'll find a pretty girl for me,

I'll bring her home for you to see,

I'll tell you she's the girl I will marry,

Wont you be there to see me then?

Then I'll indeed buy a house for you,

You'll tell my kids, tales of how I grew,

We'll relish all memories, old and new.

Mom, wont you be there to see me then?

Mom, why had you to leave me all alone?

Who'll wipe my tears now, when I moan?

Why is death cruel and maketh us groan?

I wish you'd be here for me to see always.

There's no darkness. Its just absence of light.There's no death. Its just absence of life...

Thirteen Candles.

Thirteen candles on your birthday cake,

You blow them, as a wish you make,

That teenage's fun, is merely a myth,

Let me tell you, its nothing but filth.

And If you're from India, the rising nation,

The land of temples, beauty and inflation,

where graduation just mean immigration,

And where emotional stress mean education.

They shove down our throats, textbooks raw,

College and tuitions maginify our every woe,

Like printing machines, we copy what they tell,

A dozen times until our bodies make us yell.

For all exams, we came, we saw, we failed.

Then we put on sad faces and wailed.

Then admission, the rat race for seats, begin,

And the backward classes are the ones to grin.

Our love escapades all go always wrong,

For love we long, but it never lasts long.

Your facebook status makes you cool,

fake an attitude or you're a fool.

Smoke and drink, then you're in, they say,

Have a girlfriend or else you're gay,

Guys turn flirts and girls turn sluts,

Ride a bike or you dont have guts.

Grab a guitar, flaunt it, grow your hair,

Say you're atheist, fall in a band snare,

Then make out in public, now thats the trend.

Splurge, get spoilt till it's hard to fend.

Careers  are forced when we're five,

we're brought up like bees in a cultured hive,

Here passions die and job prospects rule,

You carry all burden like a labour mule.

They say, you're too young for a skirmish,

Yet, old enough to avoid acts, childish.

Your mood swings in and out against your wish,

You wish to break free from your niche.

That Thirteen's sinister; is a well known fact,

Teenage's a phase which needs just tact,

Childhood's gone; I'm on teenage saddles,

I wish I didn't blow out those thirteen candles.

I No Kill....

'Here, take this gun', dad said to me,

He curled his beard with a look so cold,

A  rock afar, was all I could see,

'Now aim and shoot bravely', he told.

I cast a glance upon my dad so brave.

Long and thin, a turban crowned his head.

His sweating face looked intense and grave,

I fired the gun and did what he'd said.

The rock shattered, he gave a smile,

Proud yet stunned, I stood there for a while.

'You'll go places ', said my beeming dad.

As a larger gun, he placed in my hand.

He made me climb rocks, tall and high.

As the sun scorched the whole Afghan sky.

On dart boards and marked boulders I shot,

With each new rifle, the better I got.

Turbans and armour they gave me to wear,

I got bruised and scarred, but shed no tear,

I learnt to fight with no guilt or fear,

Rather with bombs and similar gear.

To fight, they'd told me, and never flee.

Now guns and swords seemed fun to me.

Dad indeed loved the fighter in me,

But was that all, he could ever see?

Once to me, dad brought a weeping man,

With chains they tied him, as per the plan,

Dad did give me an assuring nod,

'Now aim and shoot bravely ', he told.

The man's watery tears dampened his cheek,

 As I took my gun, pitying the man so weak.

But he begged and cried in a voice, shrill,

With a melting heart, I said, 'I no kill''.

I could destroy rocks, but no human soul,

From my shivering hand, the gun did fall

Angst and grief loomed on my dad's face,

As I searched my way through conscience's maze.

Dad raised his hand and slapped me hard.

I cried and cried but dad still was mad,

He picked the gun and shot that man,

As I saw cheers and laughs amongst the clan.

Rocks and dart boards shed no blood,

But the man's blood turned the ground to red,

A warrior I've been since my birth,

But in slaughter, I'd seen no great mirth.

Dad's thirst for blood , I saw that day,

I'd never want that thirst, come what may,

A warrior I am, but no slayer of man,

Beckoned my soul, to leave this clan.

On one fine day, some coins and a gun I took,

I ran away, past the mounts, to the brook,

Hunger, thirst and fatigue tormented me,

But far I ran, until they couldn't see me.

The chose the light in me, over the dark,

I chose the wise, shunned legacy's mark.

I chose not to destroy, as that's my will,

And all 'cause I'd said 'I no kill' .

Your choices make you what you are...

                                    

.

  

A Science Student's Lament.

The by-product of yet more boring college lectures....:P

Gazed I, at the birds, flying high in the skies,

Their joy, the freedom! How blessed are their lives!

Sat me in my class, through lectures I detest,

How I wish to fly out of this torture's nest!

Laws of refraction reflected off my head,

The sines and cosines make my mind perplexed.

Structures of atoms and tissues seem a mystery,

Iota is way less complex than organic chemistry!

Math lectures appear to tend to infinity,

My boredom's 'not defined’, just like tan of ninety.

Functions, Para boles, and equations of locus,

How did I forget the god-damned calculus!

Orals, internals and assignments in dozen,

Just more crappy words to spell 'examination'!

Alpha to omega, for constants there's no room,

To be a science student is to invite obvious doom.

Foxes have holes, birds have nest,

And college canteens for students to rest!

Reading halls become the bunkers' ground,

Though attendance rules keeps us bound.

I want to integrate the joys of life,

And differentiate the painful strife,

This academic assault does give one stress;

May joys have continuity despite distress!

                                  - September 9, 2010