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.