Stardom

There was a bright star amid the universe,

It was born upon a curse.

Its connections were deemed weak,

But its brightness ostensibly at its peak.

All planets, moons and stars were light years apart,

What was its mission? Where would it start?

An asteroid came with a surreptitious glance,

It knew that it had to take the chance.

“May I delve into the reason of your isolation?”

The star looked at the asteroid with utmost fixation.

“Distance seems to be a cruel physical being.”

The asteroid laughed at the naïve reasoning.

“Oh foolish star distance is but only physical,

Look inside of you isn’t it magical?”

The asteroid increased its velocity,

Striking the star at its very heart sans pity.

Out spilled the planets and the moons,

And all of the universe’s boons.

The star gleamed at its creation,

Struck upon it was the potentiality of its heart’s pretension.

The asteroid gravitated around the creator,

Its job was done without even a stutter.

Distinction

When the skills of writing first come to picture in the late teens it seems to be the pathway to venture on, due to its satirical and figurative manners of intellectuality. But it doesn’t end there as this is not by any means static or stagnant. It is actually very persuasive in many ways. The satire adapts into wittiness of vocabulary and the basis of luxury in one’s linguistic skills. However, the best part of it is much more powerful than anybody would imagine. After all, “The Pen is Mightier than the Sword” is much more than just a proverb of futility.

Why were we created? Personally, I feel it isn’t for some dumbass mission and to define one’s uniqueness and talents, it is much more than that. What makes us different?  Our extended intellectuality to comprehend what we have put forward as Laws of Nature, or to provide moral to this youthful planet? Naturally all we humans do are reproduce and care for our children until they have grown up enough and then they follow in the same footsteps. Isn’t that the same thing animals do? Animals kill in the name of instinct and we kill in the name of religion which apparently is nothing but instinctive disappointment.

If we are doing what animals are doing with just more intellectuality of the brain and more ability to survive, then what makes us that distinctive? What make us an animal species, who are offended by the very word animal? It is rather ironic isn’t it? But the biggest question of them all is; how is this related to writing?

There is this level of an artist’s mind which goes beyond the Laws of Nature or should I say Human-made Physics. Science has found a lot of things but they forgot the most distinctive property of human beings; ‘Creativity’. An artist by which I mean people involved in the creative field have this feeling of magic a sense of higher order development. No laws bind them. Their art is bound to them and it becomes them. They see everything in that form; they have the power to change.

Humans were also meant to survive on instinct but we have a different instinct. Our instinct is change. It is a state of evolution far beyond physicality and adaptation. It is an evolution which makes us magical and beyond boundaries. We were created to make the world neutral without morals or laws; a neutral world and a balanced world. But our creation backfired into a state wherein we have caused just more imbalance because of misinterpretation of our minds and our conscience. The biggest example and proof for this magical nature of human beings is the imagination of a child. It comes to them as accurately as any other instinct be it food or water. We are holding ourselves back!

Artists have this charm, it is a charm that can change everything because it can change the most important aspect of a person and it is the aspect of thought, emotions and conscience. It can change all that with a few words or an image. Artists can see their art in everything; they can see the colours of emotions, the nature of love, and the ritualistic need for freedom. It is like their horizons have been expanded.

What is the point of this constant need for a job or a sumptuous settlement? It is all very ludicrous. We are going against nature, our creativity is becoming obsolete. This is something which needs to be considered and understood by everybody. We have magic within us. Our minds can be closed off into a fragment if colours, taste, smell, and feelings which are more different than anything existent in our so called developed state of reality.

We were meant to be the neutral spring, but we are being the cold winters and scorching summers. We are meant to be creators but ended up being the destructors. We are the change but we have changed nothing. We are God but we try to find God elsewhere. We are humans, but we can only be defined as inhuman. We are unauthentic. We are what the problem is!

Rejuvenation!

The shipwreck seemed devastatingly glorious for some reason. The treasures strewn about like stars in the deep blue sea, dark creatures roaming about the massive chunk of man’s rage. Tentacles, claws anything one can relate to demise. The sea-green water got darker every minute, and the mist above the sea got thicker. As dark clouds shadow the Earth, the mist made underwater seem like a black-hole from where no light escapes, except of course the light of the gold coins shining oblivious to the bloodshed they had witnessed.

The ship rose, it followed no sense of gravity. It kept rising like someone was boosting it up to heaven, as it was a vessel of God. It rose above the mist so high into the clouds, not a piece of it remained at sea; soon it was out of view and probably out of Earth. It had probably gone to be a star, an example of human destruction, for the entire universe to see while looking up at the night sky.

The dark creatures grabbed at the golden treasure and poked at the green emerald, blue sapphire and red rubies. All these jewels excavated from Earth’s deepest points returned back to the sand. The dead human flesh was torn apart and consumed by the monsters, the sacrifice forgotten and unnecessary.

The mist disappeared; stars appeared with one new edition, presumably the wrecked ship. The stars shone brightly along with the moon’s neutral calmness. The moon pulled at the waters trying to save it from being crazed by centuries of human lunacy. But alas, it was helpless. The moon turned blue at the thought of all the fires and the smoke and the rage.

The universe wanted to relieve itself of all these core images, the pressure, the heat, and so a star would explode releasing an extreme amount of pressure. The explosion created magical dust, which would disappear immediately, teleporting itself to the human run planet, and exploding forming a barrier across Earth, making a sparkly atmosphere and the sky glow. The nebulas formed as the last reminder to act upon the images, to act at what universe is displaying.

The frozen sea looked upon the dust filled atmosphere, waiting to do its magic. The ice cracked, water formed, the sea got a new sense of confidence with the magical dust hovering over, it pushed its waves across Earth engulfing lands as if they were light as air, the Earth became a whirlpool of sea-green. The sea kept stretching until there was no more land.

The dust looked upon the seas work and then it settled slowly into the raging waters calming them down and made them sparkle with happiness and brightness. The joined their blue compatriots all blend with them, rejuvenating them.

 Out of the ashes of cooled down rage, a new world was formed, a magical world, where the waters glowed, the mountains rose touching the clouds and embellished themselves with greenery as the moisture touched them. The land gave life to creatures of never-ending determination and beauty. The sky with a mixture of twilight colours during the day and purple with care during the night as the moon shone over the changed planet. And the stars, as ever, twinkled with memories, and far away shone a star at the centre of the universe, showing every existent living and non-living bodies, the power of apocalypse!

Hasta la Vista,

K

Inflight Night!

The machine steadied reluctantly on the clear sky,

And there on the plush seat I lie.

Music coursed through my veins from the tip of my earphones,

It took me to ostentatious places with just a change in tone.

Reverie succumbed to reality, and nature began to display its beauty,

                                         

 Outside that plane the air grew thicker with humidity.

                                                         

The crescent moon smiled blindly like the Chesire Cat,

                                                        

and disappeared into the clouds as if it were only a gnat. 

                                                   

 The horizon appeared showing its rage,        

                                                             

The mild sun rays seeming like a discoloured nebula cage.

                                                     

The machine moved on into darker areas,   

                                                                   

 The loss of sight for the inner clouds must've caused hysteria.

                                                 

The weeping clouds lit their way with electricity,   

                                                          

 Throwing their tantrums hoping for someone to feel pity.     

                                                 

 The machine descended, the sorrow of the clouds was out of sight,  

                                            

The pleasantness was provided by the city lights.

                                                           

Like depressing red curtains move away for a show, 

                                                            

The clouds moved away for the city's glow.

                                                                     

The plane touched down on the wet runway,               

                                                     

 I hoped to experience again in the near future, nature's freeway!

EN ROUTE TO DEPARTURE DAY!

Back in the 18th century when the Spanish and the British were still Kings of the Atlantic Ocean, they didn't know one thing. No it isn't technological advancements taking place in the current age of living, nor is it the first black American President, and it isn't even the independence of so many countries after the French Revolution. It is that 'I' of all the people would go to Rajasthan.

Ever since the announcement was made by the History lecturer; (For the uninformed, oh yes, I am in college) a sudden keenness aroused within me. I felt the need to explore and experience something that I haven't before. So I asked the higher authorities (It's my parents, not the college authorities) permission to move towards this pleasant idea. My parents not being very profligate hummed and thought about it.

I gave them time as there wasn't any urgency required in settling the matter and I continued with my normal life. I wouldn't lie and say that my mind was constantly diverting towards this matter, as that would be exaggeration, but yes, I did think about it quite a few times, especially about the entertaining aspects of the trip (Hell, was there anything not entertaining). Another thing that excited me then was that it was during holidays and the holidays were meant to be after the exams, hence there would be enjoyment to the fullest.

As usual though there is a catch, nothing is ever smooth with me. Apparently the exams were postponed to after the holidays! It was infuriating, but I didn't let that come in my way. It was still not a bad idea. I kept my hopes up even though there was a tad bit of trepidation relevant in my mind.

Days went by and the permission came, my mother and the lecturer conversed and things were settled. At least until it was time to hand over the cheque. Before I knew it, there came the common and most usual Indian complications. "Where is the cheque going?" "Is it to the college or the travel agency?" "Who are you giving the cheque to?" All I could answer was that I wasn't the one to be asked. Why the hell would I be? As a matter of fact these questions should have been asked on the very first day.

Fortunately everything became clearer and the cheque was offered. Now that thin piece of paper sealed the deal. There was nothing left really as the only reasonable, rational and relevant course of action would be to wait. The waiting period was long but worth it. The revised itinerary was provided, instructions were given and apart from the tickets everything was done and dusted.

The damn holidays arrived and what not to do other than start the countdown. However, I wasn't a lame ass concentrating on a trip which would anyways take a lot of time to come if I kept thinking about it. In fact the trip only meant the holidays were ending and the exams were closing in on me.

So my utmost concentration was on trying to complete my work before the trip (I got to be kidding myself). Actually it was on multiple things which are rather vast, hence mentioning it would be a pain. Whenever I thought about the trip, I would think of the amount of time left to complete my work, and that just sucked.

On route to the day of departure, which happens to be the day after tomorrow, a lot of uninteresting events occurred, hence it is not worth a place in this post. Right now, I just stopped being a douche'-bag and blogged. I can't be blamed as inspiration struck when boredom and apprehension took over. Now that I have to pack; and packing can be an irritating son of a gun, I guess I will take my leave and leave blogging for another day (or month).

Hasta la Vista,
K  

THE BEAUTIFUL DARKNESS!

Part 1

It dawned on me that darkness engulfed my world,

And that the plants around me were getting ready to be swirled.

There came light, but it went away without a fight,

There came sound, but it was muted instantly by the darkness’s sight.

It became noisy and the animals knew it was time to hide,

The darkness was bona fide.

I saw nothing, yet I witnessed its power,

There was no bather, yet there was shower.

It was total blackout, but nobody would reprimand what they saw,

And due to its icy glare no ice would dare thaw.

It changed my world, but it wasn’t apocalypse,

It even blurred the grand mountain tips.

It was bias, but it had no sex.

To my large world it decided to annex.

It could seal precisely everyone’s fate,

And yet it was unanimously legitimate.

The darkness looked random and berserk,

But it was responsible and kept in mind a very crucial work.

It looked fearsome and it diminished your area of sight,

But over me it had no right.

It showed its entire wrath,

But it would take much more to stop me from seeking what I sought.

Part 2

Come dawn its work was done,

Then there was no need to run.

I was awestruck at the mountains it embellished,

It was one of the few sights meant to be relished.

The animals were only blissful to abandon their shelter,

As now the nourished land to their needs will cater.

The immaculacy was inarguable by even the most pugnacious.

Nonplussing it was that it was brought about by something ferocious.

Brightness took over the darkness as if they were fighting all night,

But then I realised it was darkness which worked with all its might.

The night is always darkest before the dawn,

That was my last thought before to reality I carried on.

Hasta la Vista,

K

RANDOM THOUGHTS ABOUT RANDOM THINGS!

Most of my readers may be wondering; despite it being my freaking holiday, why am I not sharing my darn ecstasy through my usual virtual interaction. I could have been eating something new, I could have been having fun in an amusement park, I could have been watching movies every week! Yet it seems as though I have run out of ideas, with the only possible explanation being that I either forgot how to write or I forgot English altogether. Well I know there could be multitudinous other reasons as a human's mind wanders places, but I just named a few.

I won't say that my vacation did not please me, but it is safe to express that I did expect more! Unfortunately when you are planning to write something, there is this annoying tendency of the readers to expect an adventure, like I am Indiana Jones or something. It is quite honest to point out that I had no adventurous vacation. I did not jump off a cliff or a plane, I did not meet Barack Obama, and hell no, I did not get a girlfriend.

So what did I do this vacation? Apart from reading books, engaging myself in virtual games, screaming at the television for being an ass, get worked up wondering what my tenth grade results would be and getting shouted at by my parents for being lazy, I guess nothing!

What could I possibly write about when it comes to all this? If I write about the books I read, the TV shows and movies I watched, you all would probably break your devices with a sledgehammer, and I would feel miserable at the losses of such innocent and helpful souls. So what is the alternative?

Some would say write about the Indian elections. The truth is that I am speechless (you get the point) on the topic. All I have to say is that Indian politicians are like wet glue in a water bottle. You think it is water and it is going to quench your thirst but it just sticks to your throat and makes you suffer, at the end of it you'll have to try and puke it out.

Most of my relatives have told me to blog everyday like a daily diary entry. I ask them a very relevant question, "WHAT IS THE POINT?" I can write my one month's history in a paragraph! By the time you finish singing 'Ring around the rosie' I would have finished writing my one month's diary entry by simply using the 'copy' and 'paste' options of the computer.

Automobiles is another topic which people want me to write about, but what is the use of writing about cars when you can look everything up on the internet and very nice TV shows such as Top Gear exist for this particular reason. Moreover, I know how a driver drives a car and I also know how to distinguish a damn sexy automobile from an ugly one. What more is required? I am not planning on constructing a Bat-mobile that I have to go into the technical aspects more than I need as a common user of a car as a means of transport.

If I continue writing about the things I am not supposed to be writing about, you all would be reading a novel. Hence it is better to hold my horses. So what is the alternative I came up with? You are reading it! Random thoughts about random things, just like how the human mind jumps from one thought to another.

Most people may think that this post is pointless, but you forget that it serves as an excuse for not blogging and a reason to blog!

Hasta la Vista,
K

EDU-TAINMENT!

Analogous organs.....no wait! Conventional energy.......what? No! Arithmetic progressions.........oh God, I give up. For the past few days I have been trying to get rid of certain educational things, and trust me I have been trying hard. But I find it rather tedious to do so as when I try to forget, I am actually recollecting what I studied. It is probably a good thing, but unfortunately my hard drive seems to be full of data and I cannot get anything more in there. I can't even remember how and why I turned on the computer! Why am I even blogging?

It is been quite some time since I have blogged something humorous, I think, as my memory is being suppressed by education at the moment. It was quite tedious (tedious again! Can't I think of any other word?) to not write something non-constructive and not worthwhile, but I did it! Now after a refreshing break, I am back, which is ironic as I was having my exams. 

When I was first asked what I'd be doing during this break, I promised a lot of things and it seemed like a piece of cake then, but right now the last piece of cake is going down my oesophagus and being acidified by the hydrochloric acid in my stomach (sorry education taking over again). I could do whatever I promised but my parents would think I hit my head and I myself would support their argument. So now whenever I look at the mirror in the morning and observe that, yes indeed, the image formed by the plane mirror is on the same distance behind the mirror as the object in front of it, I take a 180 degree turn and walk straight out my room to the computer.

Yes, this would not be resourceful as the electricity consumed by the computer would reduce the chance of sustainable development, but I can't help it. As I sit I realise that if my cells do not consume energy they would not be able to perform their bio-chemical reactions to divide and provide variation and growth, so I enter the kitchen. 

After interacting with my energy source provided by the producers, I drink a bit of H₂O. Then, I get back at the work at hand, or not! When I took my place in front of the computer, like reflex action the computer turned off! "Et tu, comp!" I screamed, but then I realised the computer does not have receptors or motor neurons or even a spinal cord! The damn electricity is the one who broke my trust! 

I sat staring at the computer hoping that its polychromatic light goes through my eye lens. If you are wondering why I started off in the present tense and moved into the past tense it is because the starting was a daily routine and the computer turning off is not so frequent! 

I thought going out would be a good idea, but it wouldn't be economically viable as globalisation would force me to buy everything in an electronic store, hence I refrained from going out. So I fought for my freedom and resisted the oppressor by non-violently waiting for the electricity to turn on my electrical appliances.

But since the structure of the carbon dioxide gas in the room deteriorated my own structure the resistance could not last very long had to be called off, fortunately the oppressor saw the power of non-violence and truth, hence the electricity was back!

Pleased, I opened the window for fresh air and saw a Corvette parked under another building adjacent to my building. However, not knowing the angle of depression of the car from my eyes I could not determine the distance from the car to the foot of my building.

After a long time, the journey for the day was over, but even though time is directly proportional to distance and inversely proportional to speed I couldn't analyse the speed at which I was not working and the amount non-constructive things I had done as my measurements were vague. 

I hope from now on my holidays will be much more proportional to fun so that my good image will not be diminished by the educative lens that engulfs my brain!

Hasta la Vista,

K

THE KILLING JOKE!

Clowns weren't his humour type,
and he insulted a circus clown from face to blood type.
He left the circus in fast pace,
and drove his car as if in a race.

In his car's proximity there were only hills,
nothing else was conspicuous not even a window sill.
He thought the clown was a nonentity,
and he must've insulted the clown's identity.
But he didn't regret the incident,
until an unfortunate accident.

He crashed into a wide board,
which was uncanny as it was amid the road.
The board said, "You were a fool,
because tonight is Clown Rule!"

He thought it was a dream,
but that was not what it seemed,
as he was not drunk, and he had no reason to hallucinate,
as he had neither taken any pills nor had any strange thoughts of late.

Yet he saw in bone and flesh,
a clown standing in front of the mess!
The clown's mouth was bloody and the clown's eyes were red,
and he knew that the clown wanted him dead!

The next day, there was no him, no board, no clown,
just a hill from which you couldn't look down,
as all four sides were covered with greens,
and he could not be found by any means!

Hasta la Vista,
K

TICK TOCK!

There is always this one day when you close your mind to the world. Your mind is away from the world of fast-paced development, politics, economics etc. Your mind is away from the world of douche' bags and nerds and smart-arses. Your mind is away from the world of discrimination, racism and sexism. Your mind just visualises four white walls around you which says nothing and which does nothing. You can observe nothing but the brightness of the walls. You get a glimpse of peace!

Nevertheless, there is always a distraction! There is a clock on one of the walls and its pendulum is busy oscillating, to which your mind hears a sound 'Tick Tock.........Tick Tock'. You want it to discontinue but it doesn't cease to exist. It continues and the only thing your mind listens to is the infuriating noise of the clock! You realise you have to make it stop and hence you try to engulf the clock into your mind. But to your dissatisfaction and utter astonishment it resists you! 

You try harder and harder, you try to gobble up the whole thing into your mind, but the fricking clock just won't stop resisting! It puts pressure against your head and you feel like your brains are going to burst. But you don't give up! The noise is just too irritating for you to continue hearing it. You just can't take it anymore. 

The clock and you fighting; fighting a more fierce battle than the World War. But you understand that you are failing and the clock is dominating you, dominating your mind, dominating your soul and dominating your actions and emotions. 'Tick Tock' it just doesn't stop. Your nose is bleeding, you are even puking a bit of blood, but you know you want to win, because once you win you face eternal darkness and that is true peace!

You finally give up the struggle; let the clock take its position in the wall. The wall maybe the clock's safe house, but you know you can drag it out of its confinement. But you also know that the clock has dominated everything you have and hence it controls you more than you control it! Now there is only one way to deal with the situation, you may be able to win this time (pun unintended) and even if you lose you get to live on. 

But you'll have to live on in your world. So you form a hammer in your hand and try to destroy the clock. You hit hard, as hard as you can, but you just cannot break it. It stays there unbroken like it is made of diamond. The pendulum oscillates and you are losing your mind. You throw all your mental fury at the clock but it just doesn't budge or break. It is deceiving Newton's third law by not reacting, but then you realise that the only reaction, the only action and the only emotions that it has is the oscillating pendulum.

The clock is invincible, yet you feel like tasting victory, you know you cannot defeat the clock but you continue to try. 'Tick Tock' it doesn't stop. After a bloody nose, bleeding fingers and an even worse mental condition you finally decide that it is high time you give up. You let go off the hammer and let unconsciousness take you away. You have lost!

You wake up in your world now. You realise that you have over-slept, you are late for work! And after all the mental battle the clock still dominates you. You have failed!

So, to all those who hate time. You cannot defeat it, you cannot break it, it will bring work every day and every hour, you cannot escape it! Every dream has a sense of time, every cell in your body works according to time. We will never face true peace. We will never win!

Hasta la Vista,
K

BEGINNING OF THINGS!

Two years ago I was possessed by the sudden urge to produce my skills in computer text for people to relish the intellectuality of my very juicy flavours. When providing my art to school magazines, which I still ensue to do so became a cliché as there were many whose only art that got published was copying.  

The previous year when an article which was in close proximity to mine was highly conspicuous only because it was a direct imitation of the English song ‘Hall of Fame’ and still nobody realised that vexation had encapsulated me, I doubted continuing my trust towards this thick group of paper. 

Since nothing abated my anger more than an adolescence’s urge to take everything on a lighter note, I brought to a teacher’s notice about the unawareness of the higher authorities and how naive and ignorant they were, in a rather humorous manner.

Maybe the event occurred a year after the beginning of my virtual writing, but what I provided was the strongest example.

Blogging, as is the common term, allowed my satisfactory yearly writing to turn into a daily or at least a monthly routine if not more.

At the start, the fear of unsuccessfulness did consume my confidence and exploit my inner fear which must’ve exposed me as a poltroon, but it didn’t suppress my thoughts let alone my skills.

“Your writing sucks!” must’ve rung in my ears in many voices, yet I continued, only by naming my fear ‘irrational’!

I wrote the first sentence, and then I couldn’t stop or get up from my seat, just like a lazy ass confined to a sofa. Only I wasn’t lazy, at least then.

I was relieved when I was done. But I realised I couldn’t close my shop just then. The reason being every friend, countrymen, Romans and non-Romans had to lend me their eyes (exaggeration). After enlightening half a hundred homo sapiens about my latest experiment, I was contented for the day. But the urge again possessed me and I began again!

Hasta la Vista,

K

THE DARE-DEVIL!

He accepted the hospital,

He accepted the doctor's recital.

But he took an oath of violence,

and required no guidance.

He was in an asylum,

hence knew how to play dumb.

The doctor's interest in baseball,

was his biggest flaw!

He took the bat,

and made the doctor's head flat.

He escaped the electric maze,

and also everybody's gaze.

He came out in the morning,

but He came out frowning.

There was nobody there,

that was rare!

He had to keep his oath, hence he looked at the sun,

and He took out a stolen gun.

He took the shot,

but it didn't harm even a moth!

At the end of the shot,

He ended his wrath.

He was cold,

yet bold.

Everyone was happy,

But they were too snappy.

because all that He had done,

about it, they could not keep mum.

The asylum walls had all His work,

and in these very walls He would still lurk.

He is there,

and that would never be rare!

Hasta la Vista,

K

TUTIONS: AN ILLUSION

To everybody, who has suffered in the hands of tutions,

What on Earth are tutions?

Are they going to help us get the Padma Bhushan?

Is it going to help me walk through the 'Hall of Fame'?

Or is nobody going to give a damn about my name?

Parents say it is for practice,

but of course, that is just parental tactics.

We slog for two or three or even more hours,

but parents and teachers ask us to rote learn for four more hours.

Parents ask you to study for a particular time everyday,

but when we mention 'tutions' to get studies out of the way,

"That isn't studying," they'd say,

"That is just extra help for some days."

Is it schooling? Nope.

Is it studying? Nope.

Is it even a ray of hope,

to climb the studies rope?

So why do we waste our time,

on something that is worth less than thyme?

This question is being asked from the Pacific to the Atlantic,

but is always suppressed by parental tactic.

Hasta la Vista,

K

VACATIONING!

 "Hurrah! Summer vacations are here, leisure, fun and entertainment!" I'll be damned if I'd be saying that. I wouldn't exaggerate and say the above sentence as my vacations are as good as a study leave, but yes, you could call me lucky as I am not setting my foot outside the United Arab Emirates and hence I have a lot of time to have fun as well as do my work simultaneously. Another advantage is that I only have one group project. Either ways let me take you through my first week of vacationing.

Al Ain one of the most famous oasis in U.A.E, one of the most active oasis in the U.A.E, was my home for the first week of my amazing study leave. My uncle and aunt along with my cousin and my paternal grandmother had come to pick me up. Our closest family friend had come too! My cousin and I took the rear seat in the seven-seat car and since it was long drive to Al Ain we really had problems with our legs as we both were tall and the rear seat was damn cramped. But we somehow managed to adjust till we reached our destination. We had our electronics to keep us from kicking each other for place. 

The next day was a rather dry one until my two other cousins had come in for the week too! And both being feminine; were very lively. Especially the smaller who could bring the roof down even faster than an opera singer. She was the highlight of the week, she kept us busy. By busy I mean, busy shouting at her. She was quite stubborn and she was nine, so you could imagine our plight. But it was fun having to do something other than playing games on some kind of electrical instrument which happened to be our only form of entertainment. 

One of the most important trips that week was the trip to Papa John's. As soon as the food was set on the table, everybody veraciously grabbed the food and stuffed it down their throat. The food was great and our stomachs were filled so what was better than a good night sleep. On reaching home everybody casually brushed their teeth, changed into something a bit looser and got prepared to go to sleep. But my cousins and I had to put our bed as we were sleeping on mattresses on the floor. This is where my nine year old cousin made us active again.

"Why the hell are you messing around with that thing get your rear over here and help us!" my cousin who was busy adjusting his pillow said, "You'll spoil the freaking thing, it was made with great difficulty by my sister, you'll get the glitter out you maniac!"

"No!" the nine year old replied. Somehow my cousin cooled down and the nine year old was saved.

I was infuriated that I had to do most of the work and was more vexed when my cousin who did nothing but look at a glittery door sign put her head through my shoulders. However I held my tongue, woke her up and asked her to sleep properly.

One thing I felt sad about is the other female cousin who was apparently my age, who got up early in the morning in the first two days to do Mathematics. She was depressed while doing it. I knew I wouldn't care to do anything if I were to be given the same thing for those days. I don't do school work outside my home. However my aunt was irritated at this and told her not to do it. She stopped doing it for the rest of the week.

The last day of my stay at Al Ain was not very interesting until we got into the car and started playing games, and that was not until 21:30. We headed for Sharjah and only stopped for dinner in Dubai. We had plenty of time for games, but we soon grew a bit bored as we were in the Iron Age, and who can live without electronics in this age. When we reached Sharjah I knew that my holidays were as good as over.  It was time to be surrounded with all kinds of books, and not interesting ones (that has to be specified). 

I won a week from studies and was able to relax. But they were multitude days to come for studying. I may have won a battle, but studies won the war. 

Hasta la Vista,

K

WRITER'S BLOCK!

According to the dictionary a writer’s block is defined as a temporary psychological inability to begin or continue work on a piece of writing. But, we common people don’t wait to go deep into psychology, we rather know about a writer’s block when we see a writer throw papers in to the dustbin.  We also commonly see them these days when an English exam is on!

There are multitudinous ways by which writers deal with this kind of block, one of the path which is most treaded on is forgetting about the piece of writing altogether. Another vexing and uninteresting method is when the writer ensues with his work with an irrational ending after a good start. A more experienced and clever writer would rather start all over again.

Now-a-days writers are so unplanned and undecided that some of them stop to think for forty five minutes straight after each and every paragraph. Why do you think it takes longer to write an English paper than any other subject paper? 

You’ll be surprised to know how aggressive writers can get when they have the writer’s block. They usually harass their friends to help them. The most common dialogues writers say to their friends are: “Get something out of that brain and help me!” “Why can’t you think of something, there must be something hidden somewhere, give me anything!”

I’ll tell you, you’d never want to be in front of a writer having writer’s block; they can be as erratic as the Indian monsoon season. One of the thousand reasons you need to stay away from such writers is that even if you tell them something to help, they’ll disagree with you and come up with dialogues like; “You are just an augmentation to the block in my head!” Writers don’t go easy on you.

Some people like me follow the policy of writing is better than not writing at all. In fact writing about a writer’s block is way better than being furious with yourself for not writing at all. 

Writers are delighted when ideas just pop into their mind, but that moment is short-lived, because soon they find out that they have nothing to write about it at all. No planning leads to such situations. Then they brag about it for long time just because an idea struck them and they weren’t able to pen it down like it is the end of the world or something.

One other way which a writer goes past his block is by making no sense at all. He just writes big words just to confuse the readers, so they think he has written something great just because the work is very wordy. Readers feel that the writer is Shakespeare just because of those big words. 

Writers, one thing they forget to do is stay calm when their thoughts are blocked. They get panic-stricken.  They forget that the reason for the block could be the topic they’ve chosen. Imagine if J.K. Rowling wrote Julius Caesar and Shakespeare wrote Harry Potter! The two stories would be completely different form the original version as the writers have different styles of writing. Pick the right topic. Something you know about or are interested in researching about. 

The other day I was trying to write something and the block in my brain didn’t seem to leave me. My friend was sitting beside me, so I asked him, “Have any ideas?” My counterpart looked at me drowsily and said, “Ideas? For that thing you’re writing?” Then he gave out a big yawn. I was furious, and then I gave him the glare, the glare which would stay etched in his memory, the glare that would terrorise him when he would think about it, the writer’s glare!

Hasta la Vista,

K

MR. PRESIDENT

What would be better than roaming about school with a badge saying that you are the President of a certain Club pinned to your shirt. It is amazing. You get all the attention in the world and people keep staring (sometimes glaring)  at your chest where the badge is located. It feels like you are one in a million. You are the one who has that badge pinned to your shirt, you are the damn lucky person who got the position. Teachers think you are studious just because of that badge. The best part is, the badge doesn't call you the member of the Club, it calls you the President!

This happened to me yesterday. In school we had an inauguration ceremony for the five Clubs in the school namely: The Literary Club, The Debating Society, The Quiz Club, The Music Club and the Arts Club. The Music and the Arts Club were new editions. The Presidents and the Secretaries of each of these Clubs were all ready with their blazers on and uniforms tucked in and ties in proper positions. They all happily entered the auditorium with great expectations from the ceremony.

The ceremony didn't seem to disappoint us, it started off with the reports which had to be read out by the previous year's Secretaries and I was one of them. With a lot of pride I stepped on stage to give my best.

Before I go on any further we need to know what happened before the ceremony, before a plethora of ecstatic things happened on stage. Firstly, the ceremony was after school so everyone participating in the ceremony or students who were invited to watch it were asked to stay back. When the rest of the students were dispersing to their buses or cars we were busy enjoy ourselves by chit-chatting and eating our lunch.
"Mr. President, going to get your badge today, shining and all huh." one of my friends commented.
"Well, maybe I am." I replied
"Good luck with the report, don't read it out like a dou-" my friend was about to complete, but was interrupted by the entry of our Supervisor. He looked at me and smiled, due to the blazer which I was wearing, he understood that I was going to get a badge. By this time the Secretary of the Literary Club who was selected by the teacher in charge and I, came in with his blazer on.
"All set?" our Supervisor asked.
I wanted to say 'Hell yeah', but what came out is-
"Yes!" the Secretary replied the same.

After confirming the time we had to be present in the auditorium from the teacher I went back to class to chillax a bit. After all I didn't have to mug up my report. Just read and speak like a damn orator.

The auditorium was full of activities when I arrived there and these activities were stuff like connecting the laptop to the projector, keeping everything ready for the function, mic testing etc. Everyone was busy hurrying up and after ten minutes of standing in a place I was given a place to sit. I was confined to that seat for most of the ceremony. I was holding a file in my hand which contained my report. After sometime when all the senior staff reached the venue the function began.

The mic ahead of me, every bodies eyes on me, the Gods from heaven looked down at me and the devils from hell looked at me from their hot and inconspicuous place. There was nothing that distinguished me from the audience but the blazer I was wearing. Yet, I was on stage with the paper in front of me and the rest weren't. I made sure the mic was working and then I began. I began with great confidence and then my mouth went on like I had no control of it. My voice modulated itself, my mouth paused when it had to and started again when it had to. All I could see was the words in front of me and the school Principal nodding his head. Whether nodding was because he was accepting something I said or was it just to say he was listening and understanding I wasn't sure. There was only one thing I was sure of; I gave it my best.

After my report, the former Secretaries of the two other Clubs gave their speeches. The Music Club and the Arts Club had no report as they never existed the previous year. Like that it was time to get the badges. We went on stage and stood there until our turn came to receive the badge. The Principal gave a short speech before we received our badges.

The Headmaster was the lucky one who got to pin the badge on my blazer. He came up took the badge in his hands and while pinning it  asked me a question-
"President of the Literary Club," he said 'What are your plans for this year?"
I thought only for a fraction of a second as I couldn't mention any particular activity which I could talk about so I found the easiest way to escape the situation-
"Lots sir!"
The Headmaster was dumbfounded, it wasn't the answer he wanted yet it was an answer. He proceeded with pinning the other badges.


Then came the Music Club's energetic display. The band played four to five songs and then they gave a ecstatic ending with the guitar and drums. It was altogether an awesome display.

Later, we had a skit performed by my Club and it was quite humourous and the acting was amazing. The skit was from the original 'Villa for Sale' drama by Sacha Guitry. English textbooks do help in such cases. The skit was liked by all including me. The only problem was that they were speaking through hand mics and that made it a bit irritating because the words sometimes weren't heard properly.

After the great skit was the debate and it was the most boring part of the function as it was always one sided and beginning from the first proposition we understood that the opposition had won this one. That was the final event and then all of us headed towards the bus saying good-bye to the school.

The next day, it was day of badge admiration. Everyone had to take a look at that thing on my chest. And they all said the same thing-"Mr. President!"

Hasta La Vista,
K

  

 

CHEMISTRY!

This poem of mine was quite appreciated in school, so I thought that I'd share it with you all. It is one of the most tricky poems I have written as it took me more than an hour and a half to make the whole thing! It is also quite small after such a long time of thinking as it was for the class bulletin board in school.
Here's how it goes:-

Chemistry is all about chemicals,

And there is not a moment that is dull.

There are loads of things we see in the world,

But chemicals exist even in every plant arising from the same whorl.

Chemical reactions,

Are always in action.

Most of these reactions are inconspicuous,

But some of them for our eyes are hazardous.

We always think that chemicals are dangerous,

But without them there would be nothing, contemptuous or joyous.

Chemistry can tell us about anything in our vicinity,

The subject deals with things far away and also in close proximity.

Why do we use chemicals for irrational violence?

When it shows a lot of benevolence,

It is a substitute of itself,

And everything we have in ourselves.

We should learn to use chemicals wisely,

And not injudiciously or slyly.

Using chemicals irresponsibly can be very destructive,

But learning it for a good cause is very constructive.

Hasta la Vista,

K