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Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Will you fly away?


Who do I sing my songs to ?
Who will hold my hand...

Is there something to do
Won't you help me understand ?

Will you see what I sing and sing what you write?
I may not even be,be what I may seem...

Do you have to stick by the rules?
Rules that make as much sense...
As things gone by... in the present tense

Am I walking in life or flying through a dream
Can you tell me the time?
Will you light up that light that shows me my way?

Will you tell the nightingale his night is now day
Will you tell him he's out of touch,
Singing the same old tune,
It loops over again...
And he might just fly away...


-mithrandir

Thursday, March 25, 2010

War and Piss : Let there be Loo

-I don't like latrines(author heaves sigh of relief...the truth is finally out),I'd read this blog quite long ago and laughed out(but sighed in relief ...atlast i stand not alone) of the various notions the author had dealt with.

-I hate college loos specifically (not that FrCRIT has one constructed under thatched roofing or anything...we got good stuff there),it just that people like me ...we don't like moving around so much between lectures, so we pretty much come into the loo with a loaded gun.

-Now by logic one would think the glass is quite full here ,easy stuff to spill out right...but there you are standing there with about five other people there flanking you...and my fellow bretheren we are under drought conditions.

-Now this personal hygiene...so lets try and keep it personal..."sachin kya shot marra bey!"...or..."abey kaunsa lecture hai ?"...and sometimes (often in my case)..."tiffin mein kya laya rey ...?chivda ne?...rukh haat dho ke atta hoon.."...these i tell you is exactly what makes watering the plants a super tough ordeal.

-There are some lads who love sports and hence will not let go of an oppurtunity to test their "Rooney"tackle ...now I got nothing agains camradrie or any such knightly ideals...but ...give a man a moment of piss...

-I mentioned the pandav problem above...what the hell does one do if you have four other guys standing there and there is but an inch space...I wish I was vertically challenged at this point of time...alas...

-The traditional loo art is often a relief...
Man has been at the forefront of scribbling out his life be it the ancient caves...or our homely school bench.
But the loo is unparalleld when it comes to art...
Ex:
"Look left...Look right...Look up...Look down...abey idhar udhar kya dekh raha hai ch^&*%^& kaam katam karke kalti maar!"

"You must be this high to be on the ride."...better still
"You must be high ...tobe on the ride."

"Aim for the stars..."
"To stop train pull chain..."
"integration formulae...balanced chemical reactions..."
"make piss not war(chembur karnatak...ssc exam...hope such works are still there.)"
"latrine out order...use ladies..."

-If there are conclusions to be made then I am sorry to say this author has been called upon to make sure that the plants are watered...

Over and ...out.

-Mithrandir

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

song with no tune

The Lost Music was his way of talking about the way he believed that old wives' tales and dance tunes and folktales were just the tangled echoes of something that's not quite of this world ... something we all knew once, but have forgotten since.
  • Part One: The Hidden People, "The Quarrlsome Piper"
-Charles de Lint








Aroused from the dreariness of life,
By the four knocks of fate,
A light in that dark hour of your strife,
A partner in your hour of hate...

Pull your soul out above this damn monotony,
And dance to that thunderous beat,
To name it a song or divine symphony,
The creator himself will stop in awe for this...his creation's feat.

When the entire world screams at you ...
You turn this song up... a few notches up ...just a few
Shut their trap it sure does, like the fall of cold rain
On dry minds... gone insane ,them hearts gone inhumane.

And it settles down again and the darkness shall creep once more
For this is no bards tale, no happy ending in store,
And you cower down under the laughter of fools.
Masters of nothing, slaves to their own tools.

No hope, no ray of light whence backed up alone in that corner of yours,
And beyond hope ,beyond all cures...
You see the baton in your hand ,
And you turn up the volume once more ...
And you make your final stand...





Music is like a dream. One that I cannot hear.
(Conversations,1804)
Ich werde im Himmel hören! (I will hear in heaven!)
Said on his deathbed,1827(Last words)
-LVB



-mithrandir


























Sunday, December 20, 2009

Anger: rewind...



All the world is mad, except thee and me, and even thee's a little mad at times.





Like an agitated stream my thoughts froth,
As a shackled beast his freedom denied,
Too much you love that your fury would loath,
Tortured mind, his love still defied.

Can I hate? Can I break? Can I smash and unleash the darkness within?
Old man! hunched low, shroud of peace and humble smile ,all but holy,
Are you annoyed hmmm? Are you irritated hmm? stored away in a corner from my kith and kin,
Shift of stance... poised to strike... glance that says...are you watching closely ...

Shroud is torn... sky is cast... hell break loose,
Theres something crawling in the night,
Halo or horn I'm no ones to choose,
My anger is my pain and my love my might .

Can I lay blame? Can I share my pain?
Oh really I can?
Please ...Away! my hatred is nobody's to scan
Leave me be... leave me be
I have nothing! no more... my life... my love... my soul
It is all for you to see
Withered wand and and shattered whole...

Passerby pass me by,
My anger lost, for love I find
The hour is dark, the end is nigh
Old ways will die, when teeth will grind,

Through dark ways he comes with light anew,
Fathom over the riddle ,over this confused cue
If there is an answer, it is for no one to find...
An uncoiled spring... always left to wind ...









































Saturday, November 28, 2009

what was i thinking ...




I got bored...


For every action there is an equal and opposite government program.

Government philosophy: If it ain't broke, fix it 'til it is.

You live and learn. At any rate, you live

He’s got bubbles in his think tank.

It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes

How long is a piece of string?

Ninety-nine percent of all statistics are made up on the spot

I'm not as think as you drunk I am.

Logic is the art of going wrong with confidence.

The death of three civilians and a dog causes uproar and sadness. The death of 20,000 soldiers causes dissatisfaction.

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by

Humans are not proud of their ancestors, and rarely invite them round to dinner

It is easier to create naked art than it is to create clothed porn.


Friday, July 31, 2009

book of forgotten memories

Memory... is the diary that we all carry about with us.



Train tickets and movies gone by,
Stuff which made all of us smile and may be in dark corners cry.
Of photos and lost words many which will not reach the page,
Unwritten stories from a long forgotten sage.

Dates and times and days and rhymes,
Fixed frames and animated blurs,
Of sketched faces and erased lines,
Them ragged lines for them forgotten funny times.

Namless faces on blank pages all in an unwritten scrawl,
Of days marched by and love come shy.
For poking chides and tears to fall,
For words which mean nothing.
And nothing that means so much more...

For a lonely soul when love is amiss,
Tears do fall on those blank pages like a long forgotten kiss.
Through blurred lines and dark thought,
The cover is closed to find that which is most sought.






A man's real possesion is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

To kiddo!



It doesn't matter if the pillars stand or if they fall,
No matter what the trouble is or the hour when you call,
At days break and night's shade ,
Your friends will be there ,even though all else will fade.



No matter how far you go nor how long you're gone,
You can count on us kiddo when you're forsaken and forlorn,
Whether you require a sword's sharp wit or brute force by your side,
We'll be there at the turn of the tide.


Let the bombs burst and the people fall... nothings the matter,
My friend,we'll make merry ,eat and grow old and get fatter!
We'll share all your joys and all your sorrow,
Whether it be gone or if it waits for the morrow.



happy bday ip'ben!!