Scroll and Ink

Scroll and ink on a floating grey blimp,
Looking outside, in sky so bluish pink,
A cup of tea, and plans to be made,
Happy smiles, Memoirs slightly fade,
A lecture and presentation lined up next,
Midnight lamp focused on academic crest,
A professor, intentionally acting dense,
No one around, emotions behind a fence!
A false hearing, and attendance troubles,
Someone petite, nervous reading fumbles,
And a day is long, for laptops always live on,
Nights when all work, Mornings drowns in snores!
All the schedules and efforts to readjust now,
It’s a lazy place, a lazy life so much in frown,
The bid to enter something brilliant anew!
All stands alone, for there are happy few.

The Week

The week that went by was a mixed bag, and not only of emotions and experiences but people, their reaction, celebrations and places. How static one can feel (No public transport) and how quick one can travel (the metro) is all roped into a day. With a night where you have a minimum of two blankets wrapped till your head and still shivering to a night where the Delhi’s heat was never made more evident! To an instance when you were made to feel correct about your selection of entering technology driven telecom sector to a friendly assignment where your taste and creativity made someone happy. The week was also the lab where the range of my character was tested. From a sheer act of kindness and compassion which made my wardrobe as inviting as possible to a quick abandonment on the pretense of a busy or made busy time restricted schedule! How a person can irritate and make you feel sorry about your state to how that same person can make you feel special! To a talkative and cheerful girl next door to an all serious do not disturb corporate snob. And it is not about emotional hues which I could analyze now, but how health can reward and penalize in a week’s time. From a night where you were awake and not cribbing because it was someone’s birthday to a night where you cannot sleep because of an addiction to a television series. Still living in the moment when I chose someone close over my friends (read CP) and then reminded of an incident when I chose my friends over someone related. This week also saw a “Good Morning” with a smiley from a long forgotten friend to a surprise phone call to make a plan and meet! A week where I had the most delicious lunch in most stringent condition to a dinner in best of the places but still nothing great! To a week of waiting and calling and finally been rewarded by a project which will add brownie points to my professional resume. From a chit-chat at lunch with an acquaintance who is now a permanent member of my friend’s list to a week where a sweet new girl reminds me of my kiddo sister. The week of appreciation and sour criticism where my poems where called trashy and fake attempts and then later endorsed in public! The week where I planned to shop till I drop but when actually in the mall shopped for someone else! The week which looks ages ago but still technically ended yesterday for me! Monday Blues always tagging the beginning.

Corporate ain't radical !

For the people starting another day,
Paths shiny treading on a gold way,
Sunglasses and clatter of those heels,
Mind so confused analyzing the deal,
Shiny shoes and a matching mauve tie,
Chicken breast and an ordered minced pie!
Purse Strings lose and lenses green in want,
Corporate towers and silent alleys haunt!
A flight due to a forlorn lonely place,
Child left behind, but still in haste!
Attrition and Life Cycles walk the talk,
People being killed, no time shall dock,
Pink Papers and Pink Slips in hand,
Long gone is the time, for a rock band,
Blackberry is new and so is the dress,
Tear no concern but fear the bad press,
House is tall and lanky and up state,
Money is the treasure, life on a bait!
AC Conference halls and aesthetic lobbies,
No time to stare or even ponder over a hobby,
And time flies before you will get promoted,
Filling the shelves with things unaccounted,
Things will stay and people shall fare,
Coughing alone, and no one to even care,
Then you will finally stop and stare around,
To a house full of antiques, paintings of hound!
You will curse and blame this sabbatical,
Still believing that corporate ain't radical... ! :(

AVS.. 9-12-09

this is a story of a 6 footer on move,
spiky haired and a stylish groove,
he laughs on skimpy chubby dudes,
sly smiles and and flirting now on truce,
Pink Floyd's lyrics seems the way to live,
Black is the song, black his colour,
cries like a baby,during a laughing stutter,
Football and ayn rand, just for a girl,
avoids the smoke but drinks to hurl,
call it a whiskey or a tequilla in a swig,
can party till dawn, life hanging on a twig,
trance is the night, trance is the day,
romantic in soul, street smart on tray,
technology can take him for a bumpy ride,
all the philosophy is his juggling pride,
popular and infamous at the same time,
trying his words with hers to rhyme,
A for the audi and V for the shots of vodka,
life aint a long story,so as colored as polka,
classes he shall not attend, nor the gym,
lean and lanky, beer belly just near the brink!
surprises and beaches and an anonymous group,
castaway, wild plans to elope with a rocking troop,
and he shall preach in a voice like a barrister,
shy to sing, pranks being the stress buster,
in the end what is left to say,
sleeping teddy, a modern retro Che!

" A MYRMIDON " (4-12-2009)

[...MYRMIDONS are warriors, participated in Trojan war, they will execute any order without any questions, followers of Achilles..]

what's the color of his ebbing blood,
the eyes of a Martinet, peril by flood,
the soil in Troy, a benediction from mother,
A myrmidon's war cry, devoid of black dither.

The mind so agog, death is the prize,
no contemplation, no fear will thrive,
Turtle's carapace and a shielding ivory sword,
the mistress left behind, expecting no reward.

abeyance from the land, for the people,
misery soils the linen, as the toll triples,
days and nights, slips into a quagmire,
drinking spirits, walking on the holy fire!

and the victor will return, burnt and killed,
arrow in the chest, caressed by sea winds,
in the times like these, what's germane?
orator's word or a martyr's sandy trail !

to "constant nagging" 3-12-09 [read encouragement]

Somewhere down a squalid lane,
Hazy foggy distant lonely plain,
Searching for a clue but no sign,
May be a bell or a little girl child!

Fate and endurance, two sides of a coin,
when looks succeeds, and practice dies,
where eagle stammers and crow rise,
the land where u can't touch the air,
where little girls have unanswered prayers!

In the end the gold is what matters,
Hope is one dirty unkempt infamous liar,
Where fair play is ruled out, a secret unkept,
Games get ugly, and toil is unrewarded ,
the Queen is arrogant and plays her pawns,
u hope to run, but there is no better land,
you stay, and wait till you join the circle,
copying the moves, imitating the noise,
holding a head held high, proud intellectual poise,
and thus you begin a new life,
shaky foundation on a careening tide,
and the shoulders will droop and thoughts will dry,
inspiration falters and seduction rules,
Pity is the state and Rumor is the house!
big is the plunder shame is your night,
living the days, empty and naive!
and there is one who says to retire,
its too late to change, as the game aint tired,
you prolong the end, and pay the cheques,
glamorous life and the green satin dress!
who keeps the score and who is the refree?
Still searching for a clue but no sign,
May be a rusted bell or a little girl child!
Standing somewhere down a squalid lane,
In a hazy foggy distant unseen plain!