Holiday Prick

I wrote this beat poem for the holidays. A little too late because Christmas is gone, for which I've been cursing myself for. Wanted to do something similar to Tim Minchin's Mitsubishi Colt and Storm, so you can see the effect. Its about this whole dilemma on what's the right way to wish a person on holidays. Without the music its really a poem(BTW Happy Holidays to you!):

It’s a cold windy noon

I'm strutting about, an unscheduled

Adventitous, unintentional walk

Through the market, minding my own business

Trying my best not to open my mouth or talk

Did I mention, its holiday season?

The shops are filled with glee and celebration

Maybe that’s why I'm outside in the streets

Instead of sitting at home, engaging in masturba…uh, ahem

 Umm, think I should buy some holiday decorations

As I walk down the market road with my purchases

I dodge unknown, unrecognisable faces and gazes

Till I see a person familiar

And as her eyes twinkle and her eyebrows she raises,

And recognizes me instantaneously and freezes

And starts walking towards me!

And just like that my socially awkward conscience comes into play

“Alright, relax and think about what your gonna say,

Think of something cool and smooth that doesn’t make you sound too gay,

 Not too douchey , arrogant or ‘playa out to play’ “

She’s right in front of me now, she’s not gonna sway

And I open my mouth, ‘don’t screw this up please!’ I pray

“A very Happy Holiday to you, how have you been?”

I blurt, “It’s been a long time, a long time indeed that I have seen

Your pretty eyes and long brown hair,

Haha just messing, there’s hardly anything to care…

…about. So what’s new? What’s cooking?

I should also add that dress of yours is fab-looking

I see, your following the newest fashion trend,

By the what brings you here?” ,She says, “Waiting for my boyfriend.”

Ok, this clearly was a waste of my time,

It was like a rap track without any rhyme,

But now I can’t be rude, can I ?

And so, I with lips shut like those of a mime,

And continuing without committing an ethical crime

I listen to her ‘now-a-little-less-interesting’ words

“Nothing really, bought a Christmas cake,

Too lazy these days to actually bake,

By the way,

You said ‘Happy Holiday’

But it’s actually Christmas Eve today,

I don’t get why is it that people use this term,

As if to say,

‘I care more about being politically correct and appearing grey’

Why not just name the damn holiday,

Instead of keeping a distance and skipping away

From the main reason of celebration, in this case:

‘Jesus Christ’s Birthday’?

I control my strong urge to facepalm,

Her words kill my happy greetings like napalm,

But I admit she does have a point,

And hasn’t just rolled a ‘read-that-on-Twitter’ joint

And so for a moment I do think,

And begin to speak hoping my ‘SS Impression’ doesn’t sink.

“Well, you do have a point there now I that I think about it,

But what about the people of other faiths that don’t fit

In this particular occasion or celebration

Wouldn’t wanna have their ears bit

And so I use this term,

Though I’m not a believer, I’m not a pesky worm

So I wanna treat all believers equally and fair

And don’t wanna appear like a total fucking square"

Well, she looks pissed now and she says,

“I don’t care about that sort of stuff,

I just think it’s a little too rough

Out there

And nobody really to cares,

What a person of some random faith has to think,

If people have one belief, they should also respect the other

But people don’t care a dime, they don’t bother

So screw this idea of being equal and fair,

And a word of advice to you: ‘Grow a pair’ “

Holding back another urge to facepalm,

I spit my temper and keep my calm,

Although she speaks ironic bullshit

Like screwing for virginity, or being sober by taking a hit

So I adjust my imaginary tie,

Look her in the eye,

Feeling not a least bit shy,

I say, “Well, if you think people really are always insensitive,

I suggest you quit your ‘Ideological laxative’

And concentrate on the facts of reality which,

Don’t really get affected by the fact that you’re a total bitch,

That you’re fundamentalist, one-track mind deserves to be in a ditch

That you have no idea what you say and what you think,

Your brain maybe the answer to the ‘missing link’

And that people do care, if they don’t, at least I do

And not appreciating diversity is totally stupid doo-doo

You yourself don’t really give a shit,

And expect others to, by saying that

‘So screw this idea of being equal and fair’?

Why the hell do you think I would wear,

A stupid Santa hat?

Cause I believe in a gift showering guy in red who is fat?

Is it because ‘Holiday season’ is really happy?

 Or because being an atheist is sometimes just boring and really crappy?

And since it’s a nice day and a even better occasion,

And I’m feeling really good,

I’ll step back and let you be the judge of that”
I say under my ‘politeness’ hood

And because I was rather fast for her, I was incomprehensible,

And because there are no conclusions, none of us really seem sensible,

Just then her boyfriend does come and says, “Happy holidays, dude”

And all she had to say was, “Awww, Isn't he cute?”
-_-

Nocturnal

This poem was inspired listening to Night Season by David Nevue, and goes out to all nocturnals like me, up at night looking out of the window, or looking at a window...in your computer (lame):

The sky clears up to a full moon,

bright, silver and young
The darkness lets out its grimly goons,
The night is just begun 

By the window cold sits the cold dew,
and I on my cold feet fixed
A creature of the night might be staring at you, 
goblins, gremlins or maybe mixed

Care to join me for a nightly walk?
To the darkness which meets the silvery sky
To the place where dark shadows stalk
Where wilderness hear's no man's cry

Are you sure you are alone?
Why don't you look under your bed?
Why does a chill run down your bone?
Why don't you run and hide instead?

I'm still sitting motionless,
by the dark window of my room
the words of a tale maybe painless,
say a prayer to keep from the nightly goons.

Bad Day

What better way to go through a shitty day than writing about it? Actually you could go for a movie....but that's a different issue:

Just had a bad day. A close friend told me to ‘sleep it off’. I appreciate the concern but me being the guy I am can’t sleep off anything till I crib about it. I guess I was an old guy in my past life. I guess we all were if you believe in that concept.

Anyway, back to where I began: bad day. What is a bad day? You really don’t know till you experience one. And you’re not even in the state of truly sympathizing till it hits you. And a bad day is not a bad day till it starts bad; otherwise just every day is bad.

We've all had our share of bad days and crappy times. And cribbing about a bad day is a nice feeling I admit. But then I think about this family in Darfur. The mother goes to collect water. Father is out looking for odd jobs to earn whatever little he can for the family. The kids are out doing….I don’t know what really…playing probably (see, that’s ignorant!). Now In a family like that with conditions so adverse, what if a family member walks in and says “Aaah! Had a bad day today!” That doesn't happen! Everyone in the family would be like ‘Ohhh! Didn't have a freaking clue, smartass”(Sarcasm: 'for the logically-impaired')

So when we go back home after a crappy day and crib about it for a whole 15 mins (longer if your single) of your life, think about how that day was crappy? Did I lose an arm in a minefield explosion? Did my younger brother die of thirst? Or do I have to go on another day without food? No then be happy about the fact that your cribbing about a bad day. Did I lose you?

Sometimes our lives are so cushy that we make up bad days and petty problems just to make us feel closer to reality. Stupid issues like “Dammit my touch screen sucks” “Haven’t seen the last five minutes of my favorite” or “Wanna take a shit but the toilet seat is too cold!! Dammit!!!!”

I wanna have more shitty days in my life. So that I could think about my not-so-shitty present and future. My point is that complaining about a bad day that could have been worse is a privilege.  So the next time you’re complaining about your sad life just think how lucky you are…and complain a little more, enjoy the privilege. “Oh crap! My toe hurts”.  A Happy Bad Day to you. J  

PS: If someone gives me the exact number of times I’ve used the words ‘crib’, ‘bad’ and ‘day’, I’ll give you the power to decide the subject of the next post ;) 

The Atheist

Wrote this one around 2 years ago. It was too long to be published in any newspaper and I was too lazy and reluctant to shorten it down. Although there have been drastic change in my views regarding the concept of religion and this piece isn't 'updated' and I don't believe a lot of stuff here any more  still wanted to fill a few columns:

At the age of 12 I withdrew my belief in ‘God’. I don’t know the reason of my 'atheistical behavior' at that time. Maybe it was the pressure from school, maybe it was my loneliness, but the fact remains that I forgot the reason. What surprises me is that I took that decision at the young age of 12.At first, I felt pride in walking down a road without the fear someone watching over me. Like a bird which had freed itself from the fetters, but was still in the cage. I’ll be honest, I guess I had taken too much pride in being ‘free’ and had even taken the privilege of boasting about my state to a few of my believer friends. Almost coincidentally, I faced twists you might expect to see in an M. Night Shyamalan movie (or maybe not). I almost failed in English, got late for school the day I had a test and barely had time to complete it, almost got a fracture, became the class monitor (oh yes it IS a pain in the butt). 

Well actually these are just a few of the misfortunes I remember. But what I do remember is that time period was one of the worst I faced. Now sometimes I wonder why is it that we notice something when something else supposedly affects it. For example; a person notices how much weight he/she has gained when he/she watches a fashion pageant. 

Maybe these things that I experienced were taken as misfortunes by me just because of my recent disbelief in god but still being unable to forget my past and falling back to it. Perhaps these events were meant to happen.

 Maybe I should’ve studied a bit hard for the test. Maybe I should have woken up a little earlier to get in time for my test. Maybe I should have been more careful while skating. Maybe I shouldn’t have seated in a way that the teacher notices me and decides on making me the class monitor (?!!). Maybe….maybe these events were avoidable. Or were they? I can’t really say. 

The thing is, I was too young to think this way at that time. So I gave up my ‘opposition’ against the godly figure, who according to me was punishing me in his own way. Even though my mother knew of my actions she was pretty sure I would turn back to ‘him’. You see, my parents never really pressed me against an idea, religion or a belief. Maybe they wanted me to find out what was best for me, myself. They still do. About two years later, I looked back at the time when I gave up a path that I had chosen willingly and felt a certain shame inside of me. At that time I had read lot about religious and racial discrimination and had realized that it somewhat began around us. Can’t really say how. Is it because I don’t have the courage to feel criticism? No. It is simply because I believe that some things can be avoided by excluding a few lines from a topic that need not be more controversial than it already is.

Let me give you an example, a person of the ‘X’ religion is likely to keep some distance from a ‘Y’ person the moment he/she knows about his/her religion. He/she acts quiet normally till the time the certain information is disclosed to him/her. People start drawing conclusions about someone’s characters on the basis of their religion. I’m guessing about 80% would react the way I stated above.

The risk in giving out a rough estimate is the fact that many of the readers may disagree with the fact. The last thing I want are a thousand critics coming up with their own results, which might differ from my own and calling it a more ‘scientific’ or ‘philosophically stable’ conclusion. That actually fills me with a weird sense of fear. At the age of thirteen, I took up Buddhism as my religion. I agreed with a lot of Buddhist ideologies and I still do. Buddhism basically focuses (as far as I know) on excluding your desires. According to Buddha all evil is caused due to a desire and that all the lives in this world are woven into a delicate network. Even if one of the links gets affected, some part of the network around it experiences something similar to it. I like to compare this ‘network’ to a clear pond in the middle of a desert. I read a lot about Buddhist psychology, tried to adapt them practically in my life, hoping I would attain Nirvana someday. It struck me later that my path to Nirvana was a desire itself. I felt pretty weird after realizing this, like I was trying to build a dam across the ocean. By the age of 14, I really couldn’t make out the ‘path’ I was walking on. I wasn’t exactly an atheist but I didn’t believe in the godly figure. I did believe that there was some force which ran the whole universe the way it runs right now. I still do. I had a strong belief that it was the works of nature; I had a whole theory on it. A theory that debunked every supernatural happening and unsolved mystery which was named a ‘miracle’. I believed in my theory. Well, I still do. 

I went to some place with my mother someday; someplace I no longer have in my mind. Like something that erases itself with the pangs of time. What I do remember is walking into a store that sold local tea varieties. My mother walked in and looked for a particular type she liked and a got herself a pack. Mighty expensive it was. At the billing counter the owner somehow saw the discomfort on my mother’s face due to the cost of the tea and offered her a cheaper and supposedly better brand for the same variety. This act of his barraged my mind with questions. Why did he offer my mother a better product whereas he could’ve simply let her buy the expensive one to gain a profit? Was it his ‘costumer first’ point of view? Or was it his fear of ‘God’? I don’t know if ‘God’ exist or if I believe he exists. What I do know that people are inherently good and there is a certain desire which changes them from what they are or what they were. What am I right now? I’m just an explorer who has a long way to go and cant really describe something I haven’t seen.

The Habit

This one is an article I wrote for Asian Age and Deccan Chronicle around an year ago. The editors edited it a bit and so I really wanted to post the original version. Originally I titled it 'The Habit' but it came out as 'I give credit to Freud and Pamuk for my words', which makes me look a little smug but I kinda like it anyway. So here it is 'The Habit' original version:

Winston Churchill once said,” Habits are what make a person, like yeast makes cake. It’s hard to imagine that something as parasitic as yeast can actually do something this constructive”. There’s something about habits that makes people accept them in a negative way. The only word that seems to go with a habit is ‘weird’. Needless to say, every one of us has those things called ‘habits’. And I don’t mean activities like smoking, drinking, nail biting or anything like that but habits that people don’t usually notice. Something like a guy’s habit to gnaw at his tongue every 3 minutes, 45 seconds and 7 milliseconds (weird?).

   To be honest even I have a ‘weird habit’ myself. I tend to give the credit of my own words to someone else, someone more known. Like if someone asks me about a particular quote I used in one of my essays in school, I would say, “Oh, It was Freud.” Or “Oh I just read a bit of Orhan Pamuk, so ‘modified’ one of his lines”, when the fact remains that those words are my own even though you might take it as a type of plagiarism or quite the reverse of it. And so is the quote I used in the beginning of this…I believe you would've guessed it by now. I really don’t know why I do this. Probably because it’s easy to believe on something said by someone famous then someone who isn't  Why don’t we want people to see us the way we are? Why do we want to change ourselves for complete strangers? I don’t know.  I guess we deliberately hide some things for a ‘respectable image’. And by the way, dear reader, would you care to wipe that silly grin off your face? Heavens! Blimey, where are my manners?

Enter: The Blogger

I've been wanting to start a freaking blog for a while now. The story's simple, I didn't get freaky dream about making a blog, an apple didn't fall on my head. I write a lot and when people do ask what I write the question that immediately follows is,'Do you write online?' or 'Do you have a blog/site?'. So I went, 'What the hell, lemme start a blog', that's it. That's the long and short of it. Cue music...Action *Hitchcock theme*... "Good Evening".