Losing touch with sanity

The dreaded E word- examinations! and that spells doom with a capital d. i can see everyone around me getting panicy, hysterical, rude, helpful, frustrated; a bundle of contradictions of their usual selves. Friends who generally stick to the propah british english with all is nuances have suddenly discovered its colorful american conterpart and are enhancing their vocabulary , every sentence is dotted with colorful words ,rather, colorful words are interrupted by the constraints of a sentence.
Losing touch of time and space. Didnt see the world beyond my flat for a week. a friend was kind enough to point this out and then, I couldnt study for two days, as i was busy wallowing in self pity, thinking about how the world must have changed in the week i didnt see it :(
After wasting more than a grand on notes [hyperbole] and the necessary tonnes of paper needed to show my parents and all those who care to observe , that i have so much to study, i finally wasted a week giving gaalis to professors, the course, life and in general anything and everything. sharpend a lot of pencils, chewed them up while revising. Now, there exists more wood in my body than the revised stuff that exists in the brain.
so me off to chewing some more pencils. till i regain my sanity back, ciao!

A cloud after a silver lining

Was in a happy state of mind for a few days. Reasons- submissions finished, deadlines dead , a few compliments about the changed look [ not necessarily in the that order] and above all, an internship with the newspaper,Afternoon. And just when I thought that things were finally looking up after a dismal new year [ had to face a couple of tsunamis on the personal front] Bang! i come to know journalists are not well paid!The bubble burst soo soon :( !!This great piece of news from a friend who has done extensive research on the salaries and payment of journalists.

Tried talking to fellow sufferers who plan to take up journalism. They are unperturbed. So, I deduce that they have either resigned themselves to fate or, have old money or, think of call centres as a gateway to heaven. I have neither old money, nor the gateway pass! So, I have hit upon an idea. Planning to open a chain of xerox shops near all major colleges in Bombay that will offer the students a discount rate. The xerox guy alongwith the sandwichwala can be major revenue generators [ if they ever decide to pay their taxes!]. So a xeroxwala cum sandwichwala is my future * a shudder: of either relief or repulsion ; i do not know*

LET ME SLEEP

He won’t let me sleep. He just won’t let me sleep. Morning…Noon…Night….. Time is of no consequence. He is obsessed. The man needs to see a psychiatrist but someone tell that to his parents!!! His goddamn mother who, thinks that his life is ruined and the reason is me!!
And now he comes crying to me ...as if crying can change things between us! As if our past will be wiped clean like a slate and we could start all over again! The only thing common between the wiped cleaned black slate and our relationship is the blackness…. A blackness that devoured me long time back and is now threatening to devour our children.
Still he is adamant, he wants his wife back. A piece of flesh: ready to entertain him. He just won’t let me sleep!!!
He doesn’t even care about the kids anymore; as he lies all over me asking me to come back to him. As if , lying over me can get me back to him. The kids stare at this spectacle in wide-eyed confusion, wishing that all was well between Mummy and Papa. My heart aches for them and yet, this man just doesn’t seem to notice their plight! He is busy wooing me with flowers as if flowers can bring me back to him. Now, the flowers lie strewn over me; and he lies over them crushing them under his enormous weight as once I was crushed; my dreams were crushed. He never bought flowers when I wanted them. Maybe because I didn’t ever tell him that I wanted flowers. Now he lights candles but I don’t remember candle-light dinners after the birth of our first born.And now he wants me back. I am tempted but…. How can the dead rise from the grave? And he wont let me have my eternal sleep, he wont let me rest in peace! My darling I wish I could come back and tell you “ I love u, but…. stop lighting candles, stop showering my grave with flowers . Move on …. AND LET ME SLEEP”

A Rebel Without A Cause

A rebel without a cause,
A rebel in search of one,
A rebel not really a rebel!
There are no set norms left to rebel……
Against a background of increasing individuality
Individuality…. so individualistic that, it becomes collective
A collective memory so individualistic
So exclusive……., so alienating……..
A rebellion supported by one and all,
A rebellion no longer a rebellion
Just a mass movement;…….
A rebellion no longer an antithesis but a thesis,
With no threat of antithesis usurping it
In such a collective apathy, I roam
Looking for a cause to rebel
A rebel without a cause……….
A wanderer without a way
Or just an errant ..........
Justifying his trance ........
Justifying his errors .........
By calling himself……..
A rebel without a cause

Husseins's new muse

a deleted one