Wednesday, December 29, 2021
Friday, January 25, 2019
Diagnoses
Neon sleepless nights ache like dry cough.
Caught amidst wanting to pour all out
Or just give up and sleep.
Its always a question of little more,
Little more of soul-sucking harpies,
called social apps.
Tides of anxieties rise and settle down
And winds of depression blows to and fro,
Anxious to create artificial you, perfect you
For the world to like and comment.
Bouts of depression take over, lil by lil
When everyday you fail
To tick those little boxes
You created in your head.
And in this cycle of endless nights
The sun never rises.
But who needs sun
When you have Neon sleepless nights.
Or just give up and sleep.
Its always a question of little more,
Little more of soul-sucking harpies,
called social apps.
Tides of anxieties rise and settle down
And winds of depression blows to and fro,
Anxious to create artificial you, perfect you
For the world to like and comment.
Bouts of depression take over, lil by lil
When everyday you fail
To tick those little boxes
You created in your head.
And in this cycle of endless nights
The sun never rises.
But who needs sun
When you have Neon sleepless nights.
Monday, January 22, 2018
Sonnet VI: Scribo Ergo Sum
The essential of being is essential to be,
The absence thereof is a nuisance to bear.
Like fish in a stream knows not of its destiny,
And spends the eternity in idle affair.
To leave the print upon the parchment of time,
Is thus a noble venture to undertake.
For no one is born worthless and grime,
And everyone has a colossal in make.
But to waste time in overthinking is absurd,
To fear the worst, or to regret the loss.
To transcend thinking is thus more preferred,
To repeat the thoughts in verse is just cause.
For Writing is the true release of the soul, O Novice.
Bound thy words in the eternal memory of ages.
The absence thereof is a nuisance to bear.
Like fish in a stream knows not of its destiny,
And spends the eternity in idle affair.
To leave the print upon the parchment of time,
Is thus a noble venture to undertake.
For no one is born worthless and grime,
And everyone has a colossal in make.
But to waste time in overthinking is absurd,
To fear the worst, or to regret the loss.
To transcend thinking is thus more preferred,
To repeat the thoughts in verse is just cause.
For Writing is the true release of the soul, O Novice.
Bound thy words in the eternal memory of ages.
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Sonnet IV: Honesty in Men is a Humourous Thing
Honesty in men is a humourous thing,
it divulges all, and leaves no mystery.
Honesty in poet is a dangerous thing,
it breaks the illusion of lexical sorcery.
Take for instance, the magician's trade.
Amazes the audience, aims to impress,
it demands precision, practice and grace.
Yet fails if not appear effortless.
And if perchance the beans are spilled,
Not worry but take pride in knowledge.
That your work, like a recluse hermit,
came back to aid the human lineage.
Thus tis advise to conceal the art, O Novice
Let the trained eye trace it and gain eternal bliss.
it divulges all, and leaves no mystery.
Honesty in poet is a dangerous thing,
it breaks the illusion of lexical sorcery.
Take for instance, the magician's trade.
Amazes the audience, aims to impress,
it demands precision, practice and grace.
Yet fails if not appear effortless.
And if perchance the beans are spilled,
Not worry but take pride in knowledge.
That your work, like a recluse hermit,
came back to aid the human lineage.
Thus tis advise to conceal the art, O Novice
Let the trained eye trace it and gain eternal bliss.
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
Sonnet III: Should simple things be done sans reflection
Should simple things be done sans reflection,
or poured on 'til they appear crumpled.
Should vexed matters be left in dejection,
or done hurriedly in a state o' rumpled.
Months pass sans matter, Matter passes too,
soon forgotten in the gyre of memory.
till an idle Tuesday night brings it anew,
The musings of mind vanquish the drudgery.
The eternal spring looses upon the mind,
It baths itself in ancient words and new.
Thus poetry is blessed upon man-kind,
The words spread like rays and debut.
For tis true ,no poetry springs from a moment,
or poured on 'til they appear crumpled.
Should vexed matters be left in dejection,
or done hurriedly in a state o' rumpled.
Months pass sans matter, Matter passes too,
soon forgotten in the gyre of memory.
till an idle Tuesday night brings it anew,
The musings of mind vanquish the drudgery.
The eternal spring looses upon the mind,
It baths itself in ancient words and new.
Thus poetry is blessed upon man-kind,
The words spread like rays and debut.
For tis true ,no poetry springs from a moment,
Friday, December 22, 2017
Face Recognition
Look at the mobile, and it will unlock.
Touch it, with finger, and same old.
Shout 'Hey Google' and it will work.
What next?
Will you kiss it too?
Like a lover, in a mall.
When both study each other
Down to each eye movements.
You tell each other your secrets,
And promise to keep it so,
And in the nights,
When you stare at each other
With blank eyes
Holding its face with both hands
Is it love? Or just Utility?
And what if one distant day,
You realize,
You don't want to be together anymore.
You replace it, with someone new.
And it just lies in a corner,
Or maybe switch owner.
And then you will meet again,
One day perhaps
By chance or mishaps
And you will recognize it.
But the question is, will it recognize you?
Touch it, with finger, and same old.
Shout 'Hey Google' and it will work.
What next?
Will you kiss it too?
Like a lover, in a mall.
When both study each other
Down to each eye movements.
You tell each other your secrets,
And promise to keep it so,
And in the nights,
When you stare at each other
With blank eyes
Holding its face with both hands
Is it love? Or just Utility?
And what if one distant day,
You realize,
You don't want to be together anymore.
You replace it, with someone new.
And it just lies in a corner,
Or maybe switch owner.
And then you will meet again,
One day perhaps
By chance or mishaps
And you will recognize it.
But the question is, will it recognize you?
Friday, November 24, 2017
Sonnet V: O Scholar Glaucon
O Scholar Glaucon, hear my words,
As they appear before thine eyes,
Poetry's a manipulative maid,
And Poet a master of disguise.
As they appear before thine eyes,
Poetry's a manipulative maid,
And Poet a master of disguise.
But let her make thine defense heard,
Prove thine worth in society great,
But not by herself, this be absurd,
Let her choose thine own advocate.
Prove thine worth in society great,
But not by herself, this be absurd,
Let her choose thine own advocate.
Then only judge the place of Poet,
In the Great Kallipolis,
Amongst Philosophers and Doctors' trade,
And Soldiers of the finest breed.
In the Great Kallipolis,
Amongst Philosophers and Doctors' trade,
And Soldiers of the finest breed.
For not let be emotions stirred up in vain,
And if stirred, let them achieve a higher plane.
And if stirred, let them achieve a higher plane.
Friday, October 6, 2017
Conversation 2117
Yes dear,
I am talking to you.
Look at the skies outside, aren't they beautiful.
Yes dear,
they are white, in night.
The sun is bright, in night.
How you ask?
Well, don't you remember, love?
The Great Hunt?
The Grand Explore?
of the Earth's last ore?
It was when times were hard,
Dickens would've loved it, wouldn't he?
The Earth, devoid of any fuel,
any coal, any gas, natural ones.
Ha! Nature. A thing of past.
A reminiscence.
See those trees, those flowers.
Well, they are plastic.
Isn't that fantastic?
No more leaves around, my love, no more.
Oh whose sound is this?
That's a bird dear.
A real one?
No, don't be silly. This is the upgrade,
by the fake curtilage.
Birds are long gone too.
Where would've they stayed honey?
No trees.
No rivers.
No forest.
No nothing.
Well, look at the bright side.
The Human species survived.
Though the oceans rised,
The humans improvised,
and everyone else died.
Are you hungry dear?
Would you like some Ashberries?
They are a treat.
Spawned from the volcanic ash.
1 for a 1000 dollars, cash.
Aren't they cheap?
You liked our dresses, dear?
They are the latest fashion.
The height of human invention.
Yours made from swans,
mine from fur of devil Tasmanian.
Well they do keep us cool,
in the high temperatures of yule.
Well, aren't you happy dear?
Aren't you?
I am talking to you.
Look at the skies outside, aren't they beautiful.
Yes dear,
they are white, in night.
The sun is bright, in night.
How you ask?
Well, don't you remember, love?
The Great Hunt?
The Grand Explore?
of the Earth's last ore?
It was when times were hard,
Dickens would've loved it, wouldn't he?
The Earth, devoid of any fuel,
any coal, any gas, natural ones.
Ha! Nature. A thing of past.
A reminiscence.
See those trees, those flowers.
Well, they are plastic.
Isn't that fantastic?
No more leaves around, my love, no more.
Oh whose sound is this?
That's a bird dear.
A real one?
No, don't be silly. This is the upgrade,
by the fake curtilage.
Birds are long gone too.
Where would've they stayed honey?
No trees.
No rivers.
No forest.
No nothing.
Well, look at the bright side.
The Human species survived.
Though the oceans rised,
The humans improvised,
and everyone else died.
Are you hungry dear?
Would you like some Ashberries?
They are a treat.
Spawned from the volcanic ash.
1 for a 1000 dollars, cash.
Aren't they cheap?
You liked our dresses, dear?
They are the latest fashion.
The height of human invention.
Yours made from swans,
mine from fur of devil Tasmanian.
Well they do keep us cool,
in the high temperatures of yule.
Well, aren't you happy dear?
Aren't you?
Sunday, June 11, 2017
Second Hand
Two scores and seven years ago,
thou, a book, which I now behold,
came to be.
I found thee at a thrift shop, last week.
Upon thy front page, lied following message,
'Happy Birthday,
With All I Have,
xxx'
O Opuscule, narrate me your tale!
What unfortunate circumstance did force thou master
to part away from thee?
Was it of the dark toothed devil,
which snatched your soul,
to ferry it to another world?
Or perhaps the person who gifted you thus,
lost importance for thy master,
and the receiver threw you away?
Or some unfortunate larcener stole it?
Nay, a thief seldom care for written words.
For if he cared, he won't be a thief thus.

This mark, spelling 'Foyles', thou bear,
makes thee a resident of London.
I assure you, I googled.
Then what were thou doing
in a thrift shop of Daryagunj?
Oh Opuscule, tell me of thy journey.
Did thou traveled by the air vessel?
alongwith, perhaps, your master?
and he, by fate, lost thee amongst errands.
Or perhaps he left thee by choice?
Tell me next of thy master, if thou could.
Was he a man of stature,
or perhaps of literature?
Was he was of religion
or deep contemplation?
For thou talk of teachings of Almustafa.
A wise prophet of Orphalese.
And what of the gifter?
Did she hold thy master in affection;
or thee?
(I assume female,by beauty of the message)
Perhaps she loved thee both,
and wanted this happy bond to happen.
But then what unspeakable happened,
that thou ended up in this forsaken place?
Oh, if books could talk!
They are nothing but a means
for the mankind to talk of themselves.
Oh! If only!
thou, a book, which I now behold,
came to be.
I found thee at a thrift shop, last week.
Upon thy front page, lied following message,
'Happy Birthday,With All I Have,
xxx'
O Opuscule, narrate me your tale!
What unfortunate circumstance did force thou master
to part away from thee?
Was it of the dark toothed devil,
which snatched your soul,
to ferry it to another world?
Or perhaps the person who gifted you thus,
lost importance for thy master,
and the receiver threw you away?
Or some unfortunate larcener stole it?
Nay, a thief seldom care for written words.
For if he cared, he won't be a thief thus.

This mark, spelling 'Foyles', thou bear,
makes thee a resident of London.
I assure you, I googled.
Then what were thou doing
in a thrift shop of Daryagunj?
Oh Opuscule, tell me of thy journey.
Did thou traveled by the air vessel?
alongwith, perhaps, your master?
and he, by fate, lost thee amongst errands.
Or perhaps he left thee by choice?
Tell me next of thy master, if thou could.
Was he a man of stature,
or perhaps of literature?
Was he was of religion
or deep contemplation?
For thou talk of teachings of Almustafa.
A wise prophet of Orphalese.
And what of the gifter?
Did she hold thy master in affection;
or thee?
(I assume female,by beauty of the message)
Perhaps she loved thee both,
and wanted this happy bond to happen.
But then what unspeakable happened,
that thou ended up in this forsaken place?
Oh, if books could talk!
They are nothing but a means
for the mankind to talk of themselves.
Oh! If only!
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Reader, I killed him
A whiff of vanaspati captured in my lunch box
Mother packed her love,father a new pair o' socks.
Its a sunny day, I am off to capital city,
Looked outside the bus, the roads were shitty,
Oh then I had to pee, Oh then I had to pee.
We two stood outside metro, no police in sight
We took out our penis in a delight,
The bladder contracted, discharge came out,
Suddenly, our ears could hear a shout.
Oh I have to pee, Oh I have to pee.
A rickshaw puller, about ye high
told us how we should not pee, but comply
with some 'rules', I didn't understand,
how relieving yourself was a contempt.
Oh I had to pee, Oh I had to pee.
The crowd booed us, we had to leave,
but the embarrassment I felt, I was in peeve,
I got drunk, then I got mad,
I phoned my pals, we caught that lad.
'Cause he won't let me pee, 'Cause he wont let me pee.
We beat him up, we thrashed him down,
He begged a mercy, we gave him a frown.
We left him a pulp, we ran away
He kicked the bucket on hospital's way.
Oh I simply had to pee, Oh I simply had to pee.
And now I've finished my forty year-sentence,
Whole of my youth, spent in repentance.
And this is my story,(I said weeping,
my head is down, my body is quivering)
Oh Why I had to pee? Oh Why I had to pee?
Mother packed her love,father a new pair o' socks.
Its a sunny day, I am off to capital city,
Looked outside the bus, the roads were shitty,
Oh then I had to pee, Oh then I had to pee.
We two stood outside metro, no police in sight
We took out our penis in a delight,
The bladder contracted, discharge came out,
Suddenly, our ears could hear a shout.
Oh I have to pee, Oh I have to pee.
A rickshaw puller, about ye high
told us how we should not pee, but comply
with some 'rules', I didn't understand,
how relieving yourself was a contempt.
Oh I had to pee, Oh I had to pee.
The crowd booed us, we had to leave,
but the embarrassment I felt, I was in peeve,
I got drunk, then I got mad,
I phoned my pals, we caught that lad.
'Cause he won't let me pee, 'Cause he wont let me pee.
We beat him up, we thrashed him down,
He begged a mercy, we gave him a frown.
We left him a pulp, we ran away
He kicked the bucket on hospital's way.
Oh I simply had to pee, Oh I simply had to pee.
And now I've finished my forty year-sentence,
Whole of my youth, spent in repentance.
And this is my story,(I said weeping,
my head is down, my body is quivering)
Oh Why I had to pee? Oh Why I had to pee?
Thursday, May 25, 2017
Sonnet II: Often the mind reflect upon mundane
Often the mind reflect upon mundane,
and think which act precedes the other?
Is writing without reading a nature's arraign?
Or reading sans writing a sap-head's error.
Behold the task of writing for instance,
A poet's soul dances upon ivory sheet.
Never done in void, nor in abundance,
Art of mere mimicry,'tis art neat.
Reading too, is an art splendid,O hear,
Absorbing ancient words, through sight,
But read too much, and you'll fear,
of losing your genuine thought's flight.
So Read in one clock, and create in another, O bard
For 'tis the only glorious and golden path.
and think which act precedes the other?
Is writing without reading a nature's arraign?
Or reading sans writing a sap-head's error.
Behold the task of writing for instance,
A poet's soul dances upon ivory sheet.
Never done in void, nor in abundance,
Art of mere mimicry,'tis art neat.
Reading too, is an art splendid,O hear,
Absorbing ancient words, through sight,
But read too much, and you'll fear,
of losing your genuine thought's flight.
So Read in one clock, and create in another, O bard
For 'tis the only glorious and golden path.
Sunday, May 21, 2017
Sonnet I: No macabre account of disease-ridden lovers
No macabre account of disease-ridden lovers,
Nor of their sad, untimely demise,
Where one or the other is left to suffer,
And sobbing is sole fate of eyes.
No triumph-tale of a bourgeois financer,
No 'one idea can change the world',
No narratives of celebrity cancer,
and their journey unfurled.
Oh bring me back the verse of bard,
Or chronicles of the things bygone,
Of myths, monsters and magnitude canard,
And laments for the poor Adon.
For as long as these tales will be uttered,
The eternal joy in mind cannot be altered.
Nor of their sad, untimely demise,
Where one or the other is left to suffer,
And sobbing is sole fate of eyes.
No triumph-tale of a bourgeois financer,
No 'one idea can change the world',
No narratives of celebrity cancer,
and their journey unfurled.
Oh bring me back the verse of bard,
Or chronicles of the things bygone,
Of myths, monsters and magnitude canard,
And laments for the poor Adon.
For as long as these tales will be uttered,
The eternal joy in mind cannot be altered.
Tuesday, April 18, 2017
Dear Diary#4 Antardhwani,2015, Day 2
I,along with my friend, reached the 'Rugby Sevens' by 1 O'clock. The fest was at its full hustle. Stalls were set, and so were the volunteers. Just at the entrance was the stall of the 'Department of English', and had a marvelous poster of Shakespeare's head over Arnold's body. The stall, like the other departments' stall, was there to introduce the visitor about the courses offered by them, and also the advantages. Do you know that the ranking of department of English of DU is among the top 100, in world, as per the QS world university rankings? Well you do now.
After this, we visited other departments' stall too. All had worked really hard to make the stall look attractive and appealing. The Psychology department has prepared a 3-D pyramid, explaining the causes, which effects the human psyche , categorizing them personal, social, national, and international. It really forces you to introspect.
We moved to the other colleges' stall, but suddenly, an announcement made us look sideways. The central ground was prepared to be the imitation of Kargil war battleground, an act by the NCC cadets. The show was true heart-taking. The precision and the music and the ambiance of war it created was truly admirable. The cadets dresses as soldiers, with guns and grenades defeated the opposite side's soldiers, and captured the base, at the end of which teh tricolor was hoisted, and everyone watching the show was truly feeling patriotic. We then made a brief visit to the college's stall, occasionally looking at one or too, whatever took our eye. Soon we were at the other side of grounds, at the multi-purpose hall, where the performances were being continuously held, one after the another. We were right in time to enjoy ourselves a little of local dance styles of Maharashtra's Kuchi-Pudi, Lavani,Koli(fisherman) and Marathi. Also the powerful dance of Punjab was just on the track, and I can literally guarantee that everyone's feet was stepping during it.
After a heart-full of day, we enjoyed some food, and after relaxing for about half hour in park, we were en route to home. This experience truly awakened our 'Voice Within', the literal meaning of Antardhwani. We will surely visit it next year too, and will cherish the memory we made today for lifetime. And I can't literally end it without a quote. So here it is.
'Life is a journey with problems to solve,lessons to learn, but most of all, experiences to enjoy'- Ritu Ghatourey
Dear Diary#3 Gyanodaya IV- An Educational Trip: We Are One!!!
I first came to know about this from my close friend just prior two days before the selection date. I searched about it and got myself selected in the lucky fifteen students(YIPPEE) chosen for this trip from our college. On 11th march, we were flagged off by hon'ble vice chancellor Dr. Dinesh Singh from the safdarjung station. We were told that the theme of the project is "Urbanization- Now and Then". We are to visit five cities, which once used to be small, but today managed to be one of the best urban models of the country because of their various attributes. We chose our project topic as 'Temple, Trade and Urbanization', as the cities we are to visit possess these aspects.
| Ganga bank in Kanpur |
| Landfill, to be processed |
| IIT Kanpur |
Our first stop was Kanpur-The Leather City. After visiting a bank of Ganga, which was so polluted by the human and animal waste (GROSS!!!), we visited what seemed to be the mountain of waste. It was a Waste treatment plant, which daily process 900 tonnes (GASP!!) of waste and recycle it for further purposes. This was an impact of the rapid urbanization of the city, as these numbers are increasing month by month. Later, we were shown a presentation in the auditorium of IIT-Kanpur (YEAH!!) about how one classroom grew to be one of the premier institute of technology of India. There many industrialists also made us familiar with the various industries connected with this development. That was for Kanpur.
| Banaras Hindu University |
| Sarnath Temple, Varanasi |
![]() |
| Bhainsasur Ghat, Varanasi |
Next stop was the spiritual city of Varanasi. After visiting the BHU, Sarnath temple and Ganga Ghats and various museums showcasing the ancient treasure of the city which promoted so much tourism, as tourism is important for urbanization and growth, we came to know few things. First, that the city is of national importance because of the Ashoka Pillar, secondly the buddhist monks though appreciative of the culture, still wants the city to be further developed. And lastly, that the city is itself a portal, through which you can look on the past, and have a glimpse of future. You should visit this city once. (I should left out the great BEE-ATTACK, which gave us a bitter memory, and also taught us that we should not interfere with nature)
| Bhoj Lake |
![]() |
| Sanchi Stupa |
| Bhimbetka Cave Paintings,Bhopal |
Bhimbetka Caves of bhopal have brought the whole early men era right in front of you. These caves have paintings on wall, of cows, sheeps and horses, made by early men. These caves were on mountains, and such construction at that time at this height left us amazed. Sanchi Stupa was the best place according to me, as the serenity of the place penetrated right through my heart and needless to say, others' too. Bhojtaal, which was believed to be build by the King Bhoj, in 'OM' shape, though distorted now, was something to observe that how well has the city authorities maintained it. There was not a single waste product in the water, and again TOURISM!!!
| Lothal Desert, Once a port, Gujarat |
| Lothal Signboard |
Then we entered the Gujarat. The Ad in which BIG B always say,'Kuchh din to gujariye Gujarat mein', flashed. Oh and that was the HOLI day, and yeah that how the day went, you can guess. Full of fun, joy and dance. I realized that my team-mates, as well as of other colleges', we became more than just friends in this trip. We were FAMILIES, and when you are with family, you are right at home. This trip taught us that no matter where you came from, and what may have been the conditions of one's birth, it's irrevelant. What we do as a part of community, that what matters in the end.
![]() |
| Diamond Industry, Surat |
| Sabarmati Ashram |
Well Surat's diamond industry really sparkled our eyes. The process of diamond making from rough ore to the final product was truelly amazing. I am sure you all now wanted to experience it too. Well, better luck next time. (HAHAHAHAHAHA)
The last visit was one of our prominent freedom fighter's house; the Sabarmati Ashram. Yes, you guessed it correct, Mahatama Gandhi. Whole premises of Ashram was decorated with artifacts of Gandhi. Whether it was his spectacles, his staff, or his charkha. River Sabarmati, one of the cleanest rivers in India, was constantly chanting the great words; Satya, Ahimsa, aur Tyaag. With these teachings of Gandhi, we wrapped up our bags, it was time to make the return journey.
Jokes apart, what I really want to say that the return back journey from the Gujarat to Delhi was something which really taught me something. When I was sitting besides window, and gazing at the vast emptiness of the desert, the scarce settlements and when I turned my head and saw my friends having enjoying themselves, the one who hardly knew each other despite being in the same college for months, I realized that this is what life is about. It is like a journey, on which you meet new people, and complete tasks with them. And at the end of the day, you sit back relaxed and looked across the window over the mountains and think that these all was WORTH IT....!!!!!! I can only end this by my favourite author's few lines.
"I was sad yesterday. I may be sad tomorrow. But today I know that I am happy. And this one lifetime, however long, cannot satisfy me." - RUSKIN BOND
Labels:
Ahmedabad,
Banaras,
Bhopal,
BHU,
Cave Paintings,
Dear Diary,
educational trip,
Ghat,
Gyanodaya,
Journey,
Kanpur,
Lothal,
Nostalgic,
Sabarmati,
Sanchi Stupa,
Sarnath,
Surat,
Train,
University of Delhi,
Varanasi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)













![鬼滅の刃 22 [Kimetsu no Yaiba 22]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1601662492l/50326753._SX98_.jpg)



















