Finding yourself?

Amidst all the cheering and jeering

I stand with my back to all those people

I can hear them and yet I turn a deaf ear to them

Because in this moment, nothing matters

It is just me and my thoughts

And these thoughts overpower me

Like waves overpower a sinking ship

There was a ship I once saw

It was blue and red and a little green

It kept moving ahead with a hole at the bottom

The captain kept rowing and rowing

And the others kept emptying the ship of the water

He was almost in a frenzy to reach the horizon

And he did not seem to care about the setting sun

In the same sea a little further from the ship

I saw two fishes, they were blue and red and a little green

They were chasing the yellow light in the sea

That bright light lit the sea as if it was on fire

They kept swimming and jumping and running

With each step ahead they lost the soft beautiful fins

And yet they kept swimming towards the horizon

Not knowing that the sun was really setting

And so I kept thinking and looking at horizon

In my clothes which were blue and red and a little green

I could feel the waves inside me

And I could feel the fins losing

And yet I looked on towards the horizon

Long after the cheering was muffled

And the sun had drowned

And I was still far from the horizon

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The MIC Syndrome!

Today, with deep admiration for myself and a few others who helped me in my discovery, I present before my readers a not-so-new genre of males: The MIC males, short for The Messed up, In Denial, Crying males! At the risk of sounding sexist and fearing unwelcomed remarks, the usual disclaimer is as follows: The category of humans being described here is just from personal experience or/and experiences of others that I happen to witness quite closely and observed acutely. Before really describing this genre, it makes sense to tell you their importance in the world. Well, to say the least, they help in bringing variety to our otherwise boring lives! If you are finally tired of staring at the ceiling of your house, it’s time for you to go out there looking for these men! Where will you find them? Now that’s a tricky one! Generally, their physical characteristics can be quite deceptive and they do not hang out in clusters like the geese. You really have to be lucky enough to be able

Spirals and Circles

So here is a mathematical answer to a question that I have quite often asked myself and seldom troubled my friends with: “Does life move in Spirals or Circles?” The course that life takes is often described as a maze by some and a road with lots of twists and turns by others. A complicated web of events, people, emotions and thoughts, caught between these is you, the spider. A lot of our religious books refer to the course of life as “the cycle of life”, which essentially means “the circle of life”. It is perhaps the phrase used most often during those innumerable philosophical discussions that boring people like us have over drinks with friends. Yes, I have been ranting for quite a while, without really bringing in what I promised: the mathematics! In laymen terms, a circle is a two dimensional figure which is a collection of all points that are at equal distances from a given point. Essentially, a circle starts and ends at the same point. A spiral, is a three dimensional figur

It

He hated it. So much so that he couldn’t stand It for the shortest period of time. It was almost like a monster eating him up. Slow and steady, like an insect it would creep out of nowhere and linger around him for eternity. Making him almost claustrophobic with it’s presence. Like a rope tied around his neck, forbidding him to speak anything. All he could do was shouting in vain, hoping that someone would take it away from him. It was in It’s presence that the woman that he had loved so much had left him. It reminded him of those exam halls sitting inside which all he could ever do was staring at the empty answer sheet that he always submitted! Bringing back pathetic memories of the Conferences where he tried so hard to elicit some response from the other side. Or the umpteen attempts at making his audience laugh, failing most of the time. She loved it. So much so that it was like a part of her. She was used to it, like the chirping of birds, the presence of the wind. She did not fin

Reflections

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