one more day n still counting.....

pink floyd is god's greatest gift to me.i often wonder why i am so infatuated by it.well may be because it replies to each and every mood swings of mine; may be every pink floyd song asks the same question -" how are you different from the rest?"; may be because those sound mixing haunt me like anything else in this world....i really don't know. how can anyone be so true with expressions like "dark side of the moon", "what do you want from me?","dark sarcasms in the classroom","wish you were here","atom heart mother","comfortably numb"....the list can run down to infinity.
each one of them bearing the testimony of helplessness and pseudo intellectualism.

life often turns out to be very predictive.that's when,according to me, one starts asking questions. all the insecurities of life rushes to fill the comforting voids in the mind.we try to seek for those answers;the questions of which we never can think of.we expect people to read us the way we want but not the way they wish to. eventually it turns out in poetry mocking existence of one's thinking capabilities...bull shit....!!!!!!

looks are deceptive--that's what they say.well it never is.we turn out to be illiterate in reading the real face.then we accuse others and try to hide our in capabilities.however there is nothing wrong in this-human instincts after all.

i have a portrait of Che Guevara on the wall of my room.my hostel mates brand me as "bangali naxalite".i at times can't decide how to react to this one. i feel sad that an idea is being branded and iconised like this. moreover any revolution ;even if is a failure;must be respected.above all one can't claim to understand Marxism and its conjunctions with naxalism. i wish i could talk to those eyes just below the cap with the star.

the distress of life lies within the fact that anger is furnished in some dead blogs or in some dry poetry diaries..

encore

when i get down to writing things really become dizzy these days.. however i am again upto it....i was watching these video of steve jobs addressing a stanford graduation ceremony. quite inspiring i must say.the one thing i am inspired out of it.i plan to ask the mirror "is it my last day of my life" every morning while brushing my teeth.my mom will have a mixed reaction hearing this. however i will definitely miss her expression.

things are really not working these days...duh!!!!i wish i could tell myself- "dude get a life".i am writing this late night- sipping tropicana mango juice instead of old monk..( now dont i have a need of getting LIFE??" recently a girl proposed me and i somehow declined the proposal.certain converstions followed..
" i am unhappy. i dint expect it"
" saala atti dikhata hai.."
" bloody sadist"
" m liking this"
" that chick is insane ..she was after this maniac"

anyways facebook rocks. a quiz over there told me that i am HARAMZADA while the other told me i am born to a support to everyone. ...sad yaar...duh!!!!a recent study showed that grades degrade when you access social networking sites. these researches are meant to make me anti social...ahah..i need to get a life, i guess...

nayan tarse is blasting my ears out.....so peace(piss) off!!!!!

scooped @ 3:34 a.m.

some one named william once said "to be or not to be".a poet named bob asked "how many roads must a man walk before we call him a man?".finally an insane named kurt shouted "come as you are." i just think security is deaf and dumb.why don't we walk in the wrong route and often call wrong numbers?what if i dare to seek into an unknown eye?silence,i find these days have become to much talkative.i think it has conspired with my mirror which always blushes at me when silence speaks with me.

now everything is contextual.a rainy day can get onto nerves and freak people out;a worthless nuisance in the rat race.again the same rain can bring a jovial coffee session and beautiful images all around- dropping from the leaves,creating ripples in the street,clinging onto the wind chime and it goes on and on.it may again screw a party evening.also it may tell stories in a lonely afternoon.
romanticism to some may be a fresh red rose,to some it is a sweet candle light dinner.to me its a peaceful sleep which seeks into my eyes in a melancholy night.

"you enter my mind and take all my resolve away"

was'up

wassup???i am loving this word since last week.actually it helps me to infect other people with my jobless boredom.however it got to have a right accent and tone.something like wa-sss-upppp or w-aaa-s-uupppp!!!!if you think yourself to be a real dude, you may use just 'sup?'.yeah i am loving it(mcdonald's may sue me).so to whom so ever it may concern whhaaassssuuuppppppp?????

i wonder whether lenon was just a singer or a rebel.he should have imagined to give peace a chance based on the perspective of any working class hero.cobain should have shot himself after making more girlfriends.i was seeing a documentary on epshon's dolls house.i don't know how i got a spur to think about our contemporary world based on nora.well,i think it can be remarked in the lights of lamp-post in front of my balcony.(wassup ???).

what if i say,infidility and subconscious sex carving of today's youth may be one of the outcome of their joblessness(well its just a hypothesis;dont throw stones at me).there is no revolution,no innovation nor any mass activity around.so joblessness may bound to seek in.no one can be really condemned for it.the old intellectuals will say in a barritone voice-"things are really sad." we will promptly say -"as if we care.lets go for a booze man".whatever it is i am liking it.(oh yeah!! wassup???)

one of the major questions that is roaming around in the air is " does there is anything called true teenage love??".no point debating on its nature.who cares if it is a mere infatuation or physical attraction?.some X cries because some Y dumped Z while some A cries because some B left after draining C's pocket.you see life is really complex.don't think so much;basically it all boils down to some secretion from pituitary glands.

aren't you bored yet???still reading?? nice...so wassssuuuppp?????

memories....

i had gone back after quite a few years to this place called srirampore; the place where i grew up and tasted my adolescent.the agenda of it was to attend a reception of my childhood tutor's son.it was a mixed feeling or i dunno whether i was confused.things have changed a lot which is definitely expected but i just couldnt get along with it.however it would be a sweet memory as i caught up with few friends after some 5 yrs.

now there was once upon a time a fat friend of mine.his essence of life was to be a good boy(more specifically mom's goodygoddy type).this guy was what our society defines as a good boy.its quite chocking to observe him and i detasted it very much.however i couldnt be rude to him because of his soothing nature.to be more specific i enjoy his company.however his sense of humour has detoriated and he testifies whatever he speaks with some stupid logic.well this another friend of mine still remains the very same.she is still the same witty,subtle and wicked.it was great pulling the legs of the god boy with her.nice company to bring up the nostalgia and to live up to it.

well taking about memory makes me walk back to school life.(till 10).a harsh truth is i have lost all my good friends of that time;although i don't repent it basically.however these days i am quite in touch with 2 of them;those specific 2 whom i thought to be snob and am sure that the feeling was mutual.i wish to verify this hypothesis of mine with them.well i am in touch with 5 of my frnz(of my +2).their friendship would be something i will cherish my lifetime(my fingers are crossed).why do people change when they are least expected to do so???


one of my friend reads my blogs.i dont get why does she do that?is she as insane as me or just time pass??anyways my blog got a reader whom i know..proud me..this reader has a fetish to think herself tall(relativistic overview of life).however it was interesting to find some of our thoughts match.(see m indirectly bragging and also feeling pseudo proud).


memories they say is just a evening walk throught a street by the garden.the lights and shade caused by the neonic tubelights are replica of our life.i guess people think a lot but they really dont want to do it.i wish there would be a day where we would celebrate thinking.i would write a song for you;paradoxically it would be the resume of my life.i would sing it with some morbid riffs and distortion with major headbanging.i would try my best so that you dont understand the lyrics.the bottomline is - i wil kill the song.( now dont get me wrong; i am not suicidal).memories often force me to read morbid poetry. i simply love them.i wish to correlate with them and my pessimistoc approach helps me.


memories also force me to think if i had an option of not being me but to be a more successful,desirable good boy.i hate my memories then.well all this may sound as if i got ditched today but basically i am enjoying my old monk and listening to poets of the fall.i am in love again with myself and am celebrating life....

everyday...

everyday i think today got to be,has to be,must be,should be a bit different from yesterday or every other day.however when i go to sleep i feel comfortable and secure that its the same mundane yesterday.i try to comprehend that this thought-process of mine is whether a result of insomniac frustration of my ambiance or simply just materialistic jealousy.

now i think i have figured out the difference between loner and loneliness.one is just being a loser or being a escapist while the other may be a result of self induced satisfaction resulting in development of a trait nourished by year long acumen of just being myself and not give a fuck to i-am-not-sure-what.however you got to compromise;at least to yourself.

i wonder why people break the queue. more interestingly they try to form a new queue.so its not just chaos reigning;its rather selfishness dominant.how about carrying a tool kit and fix things in our own way??sorry i don't have so much time.

things really do change fast.once i liked to share my likings with my close friends.now a days i share the same with my closed room only.i love to stay awake very late at night.i however am not sure whether i just like it or i am getting addicted to this good habit.any ways, i will still keep my eyes open till 4 a.m.

sorry onir

few days back i went to see this movie called "sorry bhai" night show in a multiplex.one of my friend asked me -"is it worthy?" i told her-"its onir". inspite of seating in the a.c. i could still feel the warmth of MY BROTHER NIKHIL and was expecting some good sarcastic humour.things started as usual.the intellectual humours,pun and other typical onir stuffs.some people around me rose up in their seats while some(plural)cosied in.

i was enjoying -sid's timid indifference,harish's materialistic look out along with alliya's seductive courtesy.time was passing.things were changing.twists n turns came in.chemistries changed.practicality sucked.the same old romance started to blow out.bonding of five years dissolved in 5 days.the outcome was simple- same car but different driver.i was not enjoying any more.

this was not what's simply expected from onir.its something like rgv,sg,etc.the conflict of self imposed hunger was there, emotional turmoil was definitely there but there wasn't any value.there was no strength in those.it was a mere greed.a selfish outlook of individuals prompting them to compromise on one ground for the sake of showing pseudo-strength on the other.a cladestine flow of typical bong intellectual incest rolling throughout.practicality was simply materialistic.one expected to be rational walked around handicapped by some sentiments which was(or is) yet to be deciphered.all idiotic sentimental fools.

2 hours passed.we came out of the theatre.my friend asked me "how was it?" i didnt bother to nod.i felt its all cheap bakch""i..