Woe betide the SC!

Hello there,
Its been ages since I last touched a keyboard to do anything productive-I don't believe the everyday "sup and all" counts under the same head. Perhaps I can scapegoat the blame on sheer laziness,to which I donot believe there can be an effective cure, or on the several thousand doses of rationality that my brain has been subjected to of late. Of course there is room for speculation as to whether our isc syllabi can be classified as rational, or there is a need to add an 'ir' as a prefix. I presume the batch of '09 will by and large subscribe to the latter view.

The other day I did attempt to write something on the lines of "Suspended animation, the essence of freedom pure..Every wing merges, to mesmerize the viewer" (I was watching a flock of birds skimming the surface of the creek that is but the width of a highway from our highrise building) Yet I was not in the least satisfied with the resultant attempt at poetry at the back of my Math register...I can't seem to collect my thoughts!

Maybe its the monotony of weather..a prolonged summer that keeps my brain waves in stagnation. Maybe its a lack of inspiration...or maybe my head is far too crammed with the thought of being 'bored' to accomodate anything else. Either way I have far exceeded my break for tea and must revert to the Simon Commission. I'm sorry, that shall be all until I'm free to think again. Whoever would have guessed that the council would succeed in curbing the fundamental freedom to reflect?!

Arbit (i love that word!)

Howdie Webbie,
I'm feeling mighty 'blah' again...(perhaps a more apt way to decribe my current perspective of the world and all that breathes would be "bah humbug!") Yes...i'm tired.
Tired of calculus, tired of indifference curves, tired of japanese aggression...tired of the 'bored life'...
You know what the worst bit is? I cant make myself stop leading it...(the lifestyle I mean)...the instant I try to stretch it towards something more entertaining..I'm overcome with guilt and horror...'What if I don't get into Stephens?...just what if...'
Other things trouble me to no end too...
There's a super complicated four and a half months ahead of me...the next time i get home...school life will more or less be over. The dreaded founders' speech would've been tackled and shelved...events organized...some successfully...and some maybe not so...drum solos conjured up, pratcised and performed (goodness I need some inspiration...and pronto!), and even all my chrys issues would be part of the library archives!!! (sigh...) Ofcourse before that feat can be accomplished a LOT of arm/talent wringing and conning (and base spaniel fawning) will be required...(lord bless the lot that comprises my ed board)...Ahh yess and there's a society to be revived!...Something of the 'Dead Poet's Society' sort (nope i havent seen the movie...hopefully the CD guy downstairs has it....who am i kidding? all he ever has are marathi romances!...i admit that's a tad bit exaggerated) Anyhow...I was talking about the Y.E.L (is it just me or do i have the attention span of a pea-brained insect?) I have to have to figure out what we're going to do at our first meeting! eeyipes! oh darn its 11:25...got to hit me faithful books again (ah how we'd all love to actually hit em')...mwahahaha...(that's an evil laugh if you didn't get it....whoever 'you' might or might not be i.e.) Yet again I live under the presumption that 'people' actually read my posts...the length of this one will scare chance browsers away anyway...i might as well pretend i'm julia roberts and get away with it...hey, (imaginary person) have you ever considered writing utter crap in an ISC project? You'll still end up getting a 16-18/20!!! What folly! What fun!
The blessings of an education system?

Different(ial)

Sign the tangent,
Cost the sec;
Two equals zero,
If only to make cosec t.
Math they say
Makes perfect sense.
So does civilization....
Decadence.

A Walk to Remember?

Washed dust on the tip of my nose,

Light diverges till only lord knows.

Pot-holes and tar, a speeding car,

Dream and I fall with a splash!

There and back again

To the gazillion avid readers who i dont really believe exist,
i am back!
and btw....i'm schoolie...hehe...(just bursting to tell u invisible lot aren't i?)
i'm probably just talking to myself....the point is that i will try not to keep this blog idle for the next month and a half now...
cheers
ritwika

Farewell

Dear Web,
Having eaten all I've wanted to eat, seen most of the places I wanted to see, met the people I most wanted to meet, I now proceed to undertake the most painful and tedious task in the world....PACKING!!!(groan) Should I forget something I shall constantly be plagued by worry and regret once I reach the appointed destination, be it even to take one last glimpse of the busy street twelve floors below my bedroom window. That reminds me, I still haven't eaten any senti 'shrikhand'! My eyebrows are still bushy and my upperlip is beginning to resemble Hitler's 'stache...I must see a miracle lady before boarding that plane tomorrow!!!
I shall miss a million things and perhaps the longing to come home will increase with the distance. Bombay belongs to a different planet altoghether, and New Bombay even more so! Looking back though it feels good to observe that these vacations have been most satisfactory. Perhaps a cream coloured building would've appealed more to my aesthetic senses than a green one, but some things in life just cannot be helped. Alright then world, I must take your leave. There are bags to be packed, documents to be printed and CDs to be burnt before I can sleep. On the day that India became a Republic....I shall once again be bound in chains.

Nameless

I cannot recall
The many trains of thought.
It's only what I felt,
That rests still.
Amongst palms
And footprints
And faces blank,
I found not you,
We were lost in the din.

Beams from a barrel,
Neon lights.
Concrete, Steel & Xerox Machines.
Chug Chugs, rail tracks,
Three second stops.
Drifting with the crowd,
My sole gave in.

Shanty towns,
Shacks,Industry;
Cabbies, the mafia,
Born to lead.
Film shoots and recordings,
Glamorous Bollywood.
In want of a sign,
In want of a hill.

Reaching for the stars,
In vaccum crammed.
It's a blur, the drive,
Pumping adrenaline.
Going, Doing, Moving,
Passing bridges and rigs,
Words escape me,
Die on my lips.

Sit back, relax,
Till Sunday we must wait.
Hungover on work,
Groping in bars well lit.
Reflected in the glass,
Our spirits are weary.
Thirsting for a drop
Of tranquility...

People abound,
In crores, in lakhs,
There's not a person
In the mob.
Buried in the sand,
Lost at sea,
The silhouette in the moonlight,
Frozen in memory.

There were beams
And bars,
And things afar.
Towering monstrosities,
Undeserving of name.
Yet somehow,
In the midst of anonymity,
I found not you,
I found me.