Musings

My powers of observation though not potent, have led me to a conclusion that people are usually drawn to the grotesque. After studying the nuances of a wide variety of individuals throughout the course of my life, the denouement came as a revelation. The ‘pull’, for a want of a better word, is not a result of the intellect but something more profound, an arcane emotion, ingrained deep into the psyche, from time immemorial. Some might say that the word for this particular sentiment is curiosity but I beg to differ.The desire to witness something hideous can hardly be termed as that. All of us suffer from this ‘affliction’ and I don’t profess to be any different. Human tendency is to equate ugliness to evil and to suppress this temptation is what makes you different from the populace.

Theatre of forgotten dreams

The interlude of the college years is in my opinion, always marked by periodic acts of recklessness and rebellion. These displays, of course, rapidly increase, as your faculties of comprehension undergo a radical change making you realize that time is of the essence. I agree with all my friends that four years is too short a span to convince the professors of our utter disregard for authority and simultaneously leave a trail for our juniors to follow. Not that we haven’t tried. As a matter of fact, I am proud to say that the Electrical engg. Batch of 2007 has been successful in doing all of the above. Now that I have entered a new phase of my life (this one is called professional career, as Chris Gardner would say) it seems that I cannot let go of the past and it hurts to change the words from ‘has been’ to ‘was’.

Secret Lore or ........

Contemplations of a Rose

As the rose bathed in the morning sun,

It contemplated man's nature on this earth.

"When a man pulls the trigger on a gun,

What does he think of? Death or Birth?

The death of the man lying limp on the floor,

Or the birth of a trigger happy breed?

The world is full of blood and gore

And the children tend to follow the hand that doesn't feed."

This the rose contemplated,

About the role models of this world.

The poor rose truly hated

Violence in the true sense of the word.

The rose sadly accepted the fact,

That bloodshed cannot be avoided.

It is a part of life, and an act,

That must be committed.

"The world has changed so much.

'Diplomacy' ought not to be a word

For it no longer exists as such.

It is threatened by a gleaming sword,

Ready to stab 'diplomacy' in the heart.

The angel turned vicious enemy.

The glue that kept the world from falling apart.

The death of which will be man's biggest felony."

The rose took a deep breath and coughed.

It stared into the bright sunlight,

Then down at the soil newly ploughed.

Little did it know of its unfortunate plight.

From afar, a small 'click' could be heard,

And a solid object whizzed through the air.

It attacked the rose in its very heart.

And only a drop of blood was left there.

The above poem was written by my aunt (Runa) when she was fifteen.Even Keats would be proud of this compostion.

Reflections of an addict

I have often asked my guitar wielding friends, what is it about this particular instrument that captures the imagination? Why do heads start 'banging' and girls start swooning as the strumming tempo rises? I got numerous answers but they were hardly explanations, rather different ways of saying who cares. All through my college years I have been trying to fathom this mystery without realizing that I had become an addict. And as I was reminiscing about the good old days with my colleagues, it suddenly dawned on me that the guitar had actually become an integral part of my life. I was gorging on heavy doses of rock (ranging from industrial to alternative) and the constant sound of blaring, screaming guitars in my ears had become somewhat of a necessity. There had been early warning signs which were casually overlooked and before the addiction could progress to the next stage, I resolved to put a stop to it. Metamorphosis from a seeker to a brandisher would be my salvation and that is when I decided to buy a guitar.