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!!

Black sheep turns to Black Swan.

While people accept that the word success is a variable and one can have a skewed perception of it,they fail t comprehend that what happens to be 'Failure' to them could be Success to some one else.
Thus the term 'Black sheep' because like all things fathomable ,success and failure are relative as well.So if a sheep , a black one ,appeared in a herd, it would be a failure when juxtaposed against the white ones. Otherwise If you ask me, black is beautiful, and a black cardigan is more likely to land up in our wardrobes than a white one. Of course we would like to dye our white wool and spare it the refining , the manufacturing and the finishing, Who needs a Black sheep?

The world does . The one thing that is overlooked by the people is that you can not overlook a Black sheep. You may scorn at it or be amused by its audacious existence but you can not afford to miss the guy in black. Its improbable presence hinders the sight for the white ones at times and while they might end up lined for shearing, he might make it to an yearly gala of animal exhibits.Did somebody not define these unexpected twists as Black swans?

And this whole Black sheep discussion takes me back to my nursery rhymes , and heres one that I have twisted and twirled and spun into a different version:

"Ba Ba Black sheep, have you any wool?"
"Why yes...what else gives me a black tinge?(YOU racist fool!!).
and none would I let you take to the master or to the dame
you can call for your white ones there,
(I swear Your so lame!!)
I'll hold on to my black fur, for the bitter cold.
and soon I know beautiful feathers will unfold.
So I shall stick to black as long as I can
someday I'll be a beautiful black swan."

The man laughed" Kidding , ain't you?...sheep never turn to swans, you loon!"
" ha ha but you forget even apes turned to man,(and in your case , a Buffoon!!)"

On The Destruction Of Species: An Examination Of The Darwinian Necessity Of Death

According to the Population Reference Bureau, about 106 Billion human beings have walked the surface of the Earth till date. Even with a minuscule portion of those people alive at any given moment in history, our planet is perpetually hard-pressed for resources; imagine the debacle were those people inhabiting the world at the same time. A 1700% increase in the population density of the world, less space, more poverty, more hunger, more disease, all the problems of the world compounded by scale.

Fortunately, the natural inevitability of death rescues us from ever inhabiting such a dystopian universe. Death, hence is an integral cog in the mechanism of life as we know it. It is often looked upon as an ominous event and feared due to our limited knowledge of it; yet if we look at it from an objective point of view, there is nothing more wondrous or benevolent.

Death, in essence is the progenitor of natural selection. It takes the majority of the population of thin coated dogs migrating to Alaska to die of cold for the ones with the genetic aberration of thick coats to survive and breed. Similarly, death enables the process of evolution among the plethora of species inhabiting the Earth and the apparent tautology of death being the means with which "Life" as a whole continues to prosper, turns out to be true.

Approximately 57 million people die each year, which rules out to about a 155,000 deaths each day. Thus, the probability of any one of us dying any given day comes out to be 38,000 to one, which seems to be quite improbable, but it is a heck of a lot more probable than the billion to one odds we fought as sperms to come to life. My point being that any one of us can easily cease to exist tomorrow, therefore we must not fear death as the ultimate end of all we know, but embrace it and accept its inevitability so that we live each day as if it were our last, for chances are, it might be!

Resign

Tracing patterns pierced
by futility
sunk in the palms' skin,
such mutilation of life
is by far a sin.

If resigning to the wounded fate
is the truce you signed with life
then take to death,
its easier, inflicted on self
than existences'slow suicide.

The first and the last romance I had.

A brief affair
called life

she held me in her arms,
rocking side to side
the pleasures of childlike innocence
then youth's unending effervescence
she placed passionate kisses,
with age's catching pestilence

but she held me,life my mistress
but what more than a mistress she could be?
she played, she spent, she moaned
she nagged in distress
and the passion soon went bleak.

and that's when I found death..
Oh such an enchantress was she
She called but once, she looked deep within
and sent shivers down me

How I struggled to be faithful to the former
love, I had for life
but death with its overpowering zeal
never spared the bitch the knife

she cut through her
and that too before my eyes ,
and turned to me and said
"now she is done
your beloved one"
seducing me to the deathbed.

Death,

One of the few words that make a dictionary heavy. Like truth, it follows us till we run out of excuses to avoid it. People screen themselves from the idea of death for it causes pain even when experienced in installments. We literally crawl through life with buckets on our heads. All we hear is our own sound. The heavy breaths. The occasional screams. But, death falls on us consistently. Like rainwater, perhaps. It splashes on our heads, trying to breakthrough. Trying to help us realize that it is not separate from us. In a few words if I were to describe death, I would say that it is a limit that keeps running in a direction opposite to the direction of our will. For those who seek, it makes them wait for eternity and for others who carry umbrellas over buckets, it meets them horizontally. On their face, it makes contact. I lost my grandfather on the day I turned eight. I saw him consume his final few cubic centimeter of oxygen. Ever since, I have dealt with death like no one else I have know thus far in life. Death intimidates you if you leave yourself to it's mercy. However if you face it without a raincoat, provide your bare heart and body to it, it dances around you like a bar girl. That was the last lesson my grandfather taught me. It was his final present for me. Death disturbs people who fail to see it in any form other than a full stop. It's shape is more like a wall than a dot. A wall that scales your reach and becomes a brick taller as you try to climb. Those who reach their end and wait for the wall to collapse over them are the lucky ones for they experience pain bundled with the joy of disappointing an enemy in their final battle. I happen to be one such bubble of life that has bounced off the wall and escaped steel roofs. That is, in fact, the reason why Ernest Hemingway could not have an impact on my mind.

YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO KNOW...why you will suffer

Preet Singh : You removed your blog?

Madhur Bhatia: Yes. I had to. I couldn't have let it create any more havoc among masses.

Preet Singh: You bet? Masses... lol!! You are wayyyyyyyyy too generous to yourslf!! Hedonism, i guess?

Madhur Bhatia: I had a following that I could address in plural terms. Yeah, maybe.

Preet Singh: Well, exactly..!! Plural and Regular in your case. Plural and Abusive in mine! haha!

Madhur Bhatia: Haha! Who would know that better than me. I was a devoted follower of your blog.

Preet Singh: haha...! Well, the reprimanded find support within themselves.

Well i never write. I remember only 3-4 people talking about my blog...you being one of them.

your decision has made me think again. Maybe it's time to remove mine as well.

Madhur Bhatia: I was planning to start writing again. This time in a team though.

I asked Harshit and Gurpreet to think about something we could all work on.

It would be great if you would join us.

Preet Singh: Lol, team!! Oh, so that you get to share the blame. Brilliant strategy, though. Haha!!

Madhur Bhatia: Yes. It's encouraging in hidden ways, you see.

Preet Singh: A team of 3 members-->Damage done.

Add preet and oh you just entered the 'DESTRUCTION MODE'.

Madhur Bhatia: We need to aim higher.

Preet Singh: See, I really do not know what you are planning. One more thing. Every single line coming from my mouth would include sarcasm...i do not know if that's apt for your blog. It might be serious stuff.

Though, it's a great offer! We can surely discuss this tomorrow ! And yes, I would like anything above 1000$! :P

Madhur Bhatia: We won't have a genre or anything. It would be a free style art show.

You know what I mean?

Preet Singh: And frankly, I do not admire my style of writing. How can u admire that? haha!!

Yea..i get it!!

Madhur Bhatia: We will pay you in installments.

Preet Singh: Hahaha...! Installments would do!!

Madhur Bhatia: I don't admire anybody's style of writing.

I like my own.

Preet Singh: Oh, you mean you are your favourite. That's what i meant, you still want to include the three of us.

And btw...who else?

Madhur Bhatia: Nobody. We will ask for Bindra's assistance if things would get interesting.

Preet Singh: Errr...right! I get it. That is the last step to REMOVE OUR BLOG. Haha!

Madhur Bhatia: In a way, yes. I think they should incorporate that in Blogger's formatting options. They should have a button called 'Bindra'!

Preet Singh: Obviously.Do not make fun of my creation and creative sense with the idea that I offer you now.

But I suggested people a few days ago that instead of 'report abuse' you should have 'report bindra' because only god has the right to answer these questions and look into matters of utmost importance. LOL

Madhur Bhatia: Haha!!

Preet Singh: I guess our chats would serve the purpose of the 1st blog post. Then our status comments- 2nd post.

Madhur Bhatia: Yeah, it seems we would be able to muster a descent fan following.

Preet Singh: Yes, Ofcourse!! You, Me, Harshit and Gurpreet!! Good start. Hahaha!!

Madhur Bhatia: Excellent start.