Vagrant's Song

A vagrant's song
if you ever hum,
be sure his chords
would change their strum.

He seeks to play in his own tunes
as he sweeps feet across the ruins.
If you catch a tinkle small,
he'll vary them from previous all.

Why in hopes to keep him same?
What does the world owe to a
vagrant's name?
Swift in whims and steady in blames.

All his careless ease ,
and all his charms,
are meant to leave the guards disarmed.
Eludes the frisk with worldly fame,
beguiled in traps of but one name.

You say you love one?
and not just his songs,
and have dared deep passions,
endless long.

You will sigh,
you will swear
and you will be swooned,
bear scars too ingrained for a wound.

Be a fool or be insane,
or call it gambles of no gain.
You bet your pride, your heart at stake
and no flamboyant traps to fake.

He's seen them too,
and seen them all,
and says none good enough,
to make him stall.

Only if he gives into as he does think,
you could be the dessert's oasis spring.
or the shore to all his seas,
if his mind takes him to as his heart does please.

December

December, December...if February were your name,
tell me December, would it be the same?
Would you be as cold, as cruel as compulsively contained
would you be the spring if winters were re-framed ?
Would you be lush, green with the breeze,
December..are you as much as at ease?
with the constant accuses of being such a creep,
the one with the cloak that shrouds as I weep.

Split personalities and Identity crisis.

I have a tag that comes to me quite naturally by chance or by choice, I do not know. they say I am some sort of an ambivalent entity that comes with the nature of unpredictability ingrained. Theatrical was a word once associated with me, till they realized it was quite natural, an idiosyncratic pattern that came with being me.
 Melpomene and Thalia incarnated in one perhaps, others wrote it off as the early symptoms of some sort of a mental disorder. It is true that a face with mobile features and animated expressions led to the mass belief, disgust and delight came so often and so stark that it supported their theories.

It all went fine by me. I never have believed in what people have believed and I never do look at self from the lens of the critiques or the admirers, but then came the conflict between the identities. It was when my own pendulum swing like moods began to take a toll on me. A switch somewhere that turned on and off leading to an erratic behavior that was as inexplicable to me as it was to the rest. Thalia and Melpomene amalgamated with Lyssa and  Maniai,  it was a concoction of lethal ebbs and rises that could wipe sanity from its roots.It had blown away quite a few external influences that keep a person in the reachable terms when it comes to reality and practicality.
When in in-cognizance, it's a split personality but when realization of the same sets in, it transforms to a severe sickness, an Identity crisis.

Introspection and soul searching follow such abnormalities and a control over such tendencies is like suppressing the inner self.Acceptance comes gradually. Psychiatric studies say though .01% of the population is diagnosed, many people who complain of an out of the body experience might be undetected . I still wonder if an undetected, subdued syndrome has led to such a contrast in my behavior patterns. 6.99% of the worlds population shares the state if that is the case.However observing an odd entity recently changed my opinion on self, when I prodded further, it was simply shrugged off as fluctuating temperament. Sounds more like a euphemism to me, but the cheerful part of me accepted the explanation and applied it to self . Identity crisis no more. It's good to be unpredictable, leaves your friends amused and foes intimidated.
(Please do not draw any conclusions and wipe away the traces that remain after reading this article, The blogger takes no responsibility of the state in which it was written.)

Love lost to me.

I never lost love,
Love lost to me.
I reasoned far too much, it said
and where reason is, I cannot be.
Ignorant, were you?
or Apathy?

It smiles it's teasing ,sardonic.
it says am far too hedonistic
It bubbles a lighter vein again,
and chants 'You lost' like a refrain.

I'll ignore it, even fake pity
The bravado of the losing,
it could be.
I stifle it's sobs and it's hoarse cries
looking at it's loud, banging demise.

It accused me of being too callous
It said that I was a selfish being,
Too high headed, bit reckless
and then it admitted to foreseeing.

I had to put a devious smile
chant a few curses,
and stare a while
batting my eyelids in innocence.
I feigned my bit of nonchalance.

I turned my face as it fell,
fearing cascades of tears may swell,
It died, is dead, whimpered screams
and now I think it's been redeemed
I diminished it to it's spirit,
Resting all it's ghosts with it.

I'll live, I'll exist well at least,
the last bit of act I pulled to my fete.
I'll bury the ashes (NO!) they were burnt .
and keep it vaulted,the secret urn.
but no echoes, no hollow frames.
I can reason beyond mundanes.

Dead, it's dead, a dead silence
and no hint of it's askance.
and they ask me' Love', have you ever been?
and I say," never heard or seen."

Dwarfed expectations

I would want no God,
not the kind I would not worship
be it the laurel wreath on his head
or the thunder bolt in his magnificence,
no, not gods but men have made
the ever looming essence
of my own needs and wants
and myriad expectations.

intellect stimulates me, yes it does
but intellect alone can not feed emotion.
in this ever riding wave
of chaos and commotion,
reason fails many a times.
and then there are hints sublime,
that I give up the armor of thought
and don the frail feminine
Would he take the change swift?
and still with this divine gift,
not leave me contused
and ego not bruised?

I never gave in to worldly wise,
have seen my own predicaments
virtue and vice,
and they remain as I see
and then I ask
"would he?"

My sense is far more than sensibilities
and an abandon when it comes to being
submissive to the rest.
'that' is his penultimate test.

The ultimate is far more a twist
and has dwarfed my expectations' list
reason, love,emotion, such range
is never constant and fall to change
there would be some aspect divine
that I be his and the man be mine.

The Unaccounted Details of a Warrior's Life

Sharp light shining through,
illuminating my sorrow
I search myself in my shadow
and swim in hope to see tomorrow.
No time I have to gather breath,
no strength remains to fight the pain
I soak myself in battle blood
and breathe to taste another rain.
The wind slaps my vented soul,
treats me like a crumbled leaf
I forget all and try to remember
only my most special grief.
The world fights to win my pride
and waits for me in the battlefield
I check my courage, my only weapon
Vengence being my only sheild.
I dive into the pool of thorns
to meet the end of story
I fight with might and a sinking heart
and emerge with an ounce of glory.

By - Madhur Bhatia

A Cup of Awesomeness (episode 1)

Condensing the essence of my awesomeness so as to fit it in some 1000 lines is not only a herculean task but also an impossible one. It's like trying to get a whale (our dear friend Pr**hi) in a martini glass. My fellow confederates must be wondering what the post is all about. Patience, my friend! Wait for some time and the core shall be revealed. I want to make some things clear before i proceed. We are obviously held together by insatiable knowledge and the eagerness to share some ‘kick someone’s ass’ ideas. We also believe in mutual admiration which is very clear.

Now, there are a few topics I would like to discuss.

Firstly, how can a vampire be sparkly and smart? I have been thinking about this since I saw Edward in twilight. I, for a matter of fact, know a lot of people who look like vampires and my god they are not at all sparkly. Instead, if a label ‘vampire’ is associated with that person, the label would run away. According to Stephenie Meyer, Kirsten Stewart had to stumble upon non-humans and almost shirtless werewolves. Why? Of course, it is still better than being with a certain Hagrid.

Secondly, am I the only one who thinks a messy desk is the first step towards self styled awesomeness? I always have a perfect logic ready to present to my mother but the reason, how hard I try, is immutable. And so is the reaction.
Reaction: ‘It’s all right child (I am using this). People make mistakes. They learn from them. It is just that if you do not clear this mess, you are going to be wrapped in that unfinished candy wrapper and thrown away delightfully.’ And still people forget to add a ‘ME FROM’ between ‘save’ and ‘my’ in ‘God save my mother’.

Thirdly, were you stolid enough to even CONSIDER that the fracas post would end before we discussed cricket.
P.s: To avoid extirpation of your tongue, you dare not say this: ‘Oh, not again’.

Talking about this awesome sport, let me tell you, I do not plan to give an exegesis or even think of a sedate discussion. Because writing pages for this magnificent fight between the bat and the ball would be a cogent inchoation. So, the recently ended serrated series gave us a lot of things:

• Disrespect
• Opposite teams doddered play
• Our intolerant cuts and drives
• Vacillating bowling
• A Dilapidated team

It's all right to get angry when a post like this gives you a raw deal or terribly upsets you. But i advise you (NOT) to pull your hair. My friends always think that I do not use inspirational stuff but I am going to prove them wrong again.

Inspiring Quote 1: By perseverance, the snail reached the ark.

Being Awesome tip1: Fuck the snail and start thinking about yourselves!!