The purple Sky

My foot moves an inch,
I am propelled.

The friction ceases.
I stop.

The cold wind gushes.
The moon has disappeared.
I notice the purple sky.

I am enervated,
Yet illusion a sense of vague harmony,
I see the waters, deep and calm
I see the boat that’s got me here.

The fog dances in my mind,
It’s a vivid picture.
I nod to the matter
That I often passed by.

It’s the heaven, it seems,
There, where the verdicts are passed
I wait to be claimed
As I feel the stir of the soul.

The cold wind gushes
The moon has disappeared
I sense the purple sky

Candles are lit, sober and warm.
I see the four seasons pass.
The lure of the world- it smiles
The flames’ are burning in my heart.

I witness the angel’s words.
Of one good deed and another.
She wants me back.
I promise.

I cry as I lie under the purple sky
Though I am not alone.
I have a bag of gold and an intense will.
A mountain of desire and the God within.

(Un)orthodox

I have always wondered how it would feel being old. Studies show that the human spine bends by a noticeable extent, making one seem fatter and broader than he actually is, but my musings aren’t all oriented towards the physical depreciations. It is a given that mental agility worsens to a degree, and at a rate, which might shock an alien life form not used to human ‘intelligence’. But my musings aren’t all on this aspect as well.

Let’s take for instance something unrelated to our era. Rational thinking often has got confused to not thinking out of the box, for centuries. Of course, thankfully, there were exceptions. But when is the line drawn between wanting to think out of the box, but not being able to? Or not even realizing what the box is? I assume those questions didn’t make sense, so let me try again. Humans are remarkably able to adapt to a new environment, and at will. But out greatest weakness is contrary to this strength, which is that we have a tendency to stagnate if the stimuli lessen in time-rate. This holds true in numerous facets of our behavior, like the ability to understand our own children, or the willingness of professors to try out their students’ ideas.

But, irritatingly, my musings aren’t all on these aspects as well! I have noticed many people blaming aged people for their deteriorating skill for judgement, and to understand things on the go. They may be slower than their prime, yes, but there’s a larger fact looming in that the world has plain changed to their experience! They simply haven’t had inputs to many of the things for which they may need to make their decisions! The generation gap is just plain too much! The fields of general interest have more than become greener pastures!

Reflections

I can no more see the broken glasses
No more the fear of breaking them.
They are hidden where none can find,
The chambers of the dark den.

When the lights come back,
I delve into the past.
I cry over the weak mind,
The then, weak mind.

I pity the existence,
Whose pictures are engraved on my walls.
They stand by and watch,
Where the new girl might run.

I don’t want to see behind the pensive smiles.
I don’t care anymore for them.
They are hidden where none can find,
The chambers of the dark den.

Self Help : The anti-motto of a student assistant

Finally, it’s off my back. The constant state of apprehension, of nervous fear, it’s all behind me now. With the air of a murderer who’s just buried his crime, I heaved a sigh of relief as I placed the phone on the hook. It’s been two months, two months of conflict in my mind – Should I continue with my SAP (student assistantship) work or not? Well, today was the day I finally made the inevitable ‘choice’; I outsourced my work to a friend.

I’m not so much of a work shirker as I probably sometimes ought to be. But this is different, it’s just sheer patience testing. To type out dud programs and make presentations for someone else, a teacher though it may be, is maddening. I’ve struggled long enough, not with the magnitude of work, for I hardly did anything, but with the feeling deep inside that I was taking advantage of my teacher’s patience with me. In short, I knew I wasn’t doing justice to the job.

There just had to be a way out, and work shirkers don’t usually find it easily. I could just walk out anytime, but such brute is not my way of battling with life. Moreover, I need the certificate which comes with completing one semester of this job. So I spoke to a friend, asked him to do the work for me, whereby he’d get a major portion of the money, with enough for me for my immediate needs. Anyhow, this settlement is for the last month only, so I had already made my money in this job; not that I’m a person who cares much for money.

So there it was, the solution worked fine, so far at least. Reminds me of a line in H2G2:“If discretion is the better part of valour, cowardice is the better part of discretion. So Zaphod sneaked away and valiantly hid himself up in a closet”. A perfect example of how not to lead life. The teacher hasn’t noticed this subtle change of working hands, rather the typing ones; yet. As long as my friend keeps up his word, I get to sneak away, and with the certificate. Well, if he doesn’t, he’ll just lose his right to the money, and I can keep what I get. Ahh, salvation at last!

The Niceties of Procrastination

They say that all Pisceans should be fired from jobs, for no other reason but procrastination. I’m a Piscean, so you can expect this blog to be delayed!

90% of the people polled by Readers' Digest last November reportedly felt the need to put off a piece of job for later. This 'need' was such that they knew they'd be in a soup if the job was delayed, yet they didn't so much move a muscle in the direction of work.

But how nice it is to just lie back, and watch the sun go by! Only we forget that it is on the journey around to come up and catch you from behind the next day. My fellow procrastinator in school once said, "The nicest way to watch a person work is over the rim of my coffee cup!" This more than goes a long way to fix the link between procrastination and plain old 'lazy-bum' syndrome.

Take me for instance (again). I know that I’m a goner if I don't write up my record today. Or if I don’t sit up and do my assistantship work. Or if I don’t wash my toilet, fill water in my bottle or take out the garbage. all i want to do is just sit by, glancing at the clock in a cursory way every now and then, and forever re-scheduling my work to fit my eternal putting-off habit.

The best part, though, is the way people like me handle the repercussions. I sometimes live under the false mask of a "responsible and mature" Sumanth, as oft referred to by my peers and teachers alike. If only they knew! Last Tuesday (which was a half-day); I convinced my friend Anudhan that doing C++ programs isn't a bad idea. He ended up doing my SAP work for me! The glory of chance, of good fortune! But the just principle-ist that I am, I decided to pay him for his work.

This, and a lot of the usual and more articulate Murphy’s laws cannot have done a better job of driving this point home - "Don't put off till tomorrow what you can put off till day-after tomorrow!!"

That mind!

Incorrigible mind, that is
That resides in your soul
It’s sharp, it’s conscious
Yet it longs for what they call love

It senses the world that is beyond,
It sees the lack of order in the perfectionist,
It sees an unending desire to reason
Yet it longs for what they call love.

It overcomes with passion,
The difficulties that the inanimate bestows,
It climbs over pride,
Yet it longs for what they call love

It blends with the environment,
It plays the thief,
It commences the unnatural saga,
Yet it longs for what they call love

I detest that incorrigible mind,
Which can see and cannot,
I detest that incorrigible me,
Which can see and which cannot.

The Desert Song

Under the sun and the shade
That reverie could once be dispersed
Into a million colours of joy
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

Nothing barren could ever wreck,
No grey could alter the untainted,
And the brave remained so.
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

The drops of gold lingered,
Even after the palace was no more.
No wealth, no malady strained the thought
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

The men of sorts joined the run
To fix the broken limb
The sand and the learned could tell the story
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

But I can see, now I can see…. the lovely mirage,
Blurred with passion and revolt.
The clear skies have now shown
That there was no desert after all, to say
‘Such was the benevolent desert that day’

When I can be beautiful again

The roses in sin,
The matters of the heart,
The brevity of unknown pleasures
Blind the seeking eye.

An inch of pain,
The touch of assurance,
The conceit of love
Blind the seeking eye.

I quote in silence..

Then rises the penitent storm,
That none can see
It confers upon the great will,
The grant of truth and more to sense.

I still quote in silence..

The roses in sin,
The matters of the heart,
The brevity of unknown pleasures
Blind the seeking eye.

An inch of pain,
The touch of assurance,
The conceit of love
Blind the seeking eye.

Pebbles in the air

Pebbles in the ‘air’
What are they worth?
Their life is meant to end on the sand
Much like it began.

They exist and continue to
until the blue light annihilates
They wait and seek the destructor
For it doesn’t matter

But it must hurt to be buried.
Even the golden caress is no lure
For they can see no soft – voiced maiden
Calling out, embracing the lost matter

They see the waves dash across, sometimes
Leaving a scar behind
The cold, sometimes ignites
Sometimes, just burns them out

They feel unusually complex on a rainy day,
When the damp roots pull within
They gather what they can
And run towards shelter

Wretched songs they manage to hum,
The tunes that the winds abhor
They sing in ignorance of their true self
They sing to forgive.