A laugh a bit

Try reading the title in one go. I mean without spaces. No, that will not do! You need more speed. Is it coming? It is sounding like ‘alphabet’, isn’t it? No? Never mind!

What we call as alphabet is termed as character in computers. Now character is something, I am more interested in. It suggests, that alphabets are not the basic or smallest building blocks of language, they do have a story instead. They possess a characteristic. Each and every one of them! For example A is like that shy and talented kid from the neighbourhood, whose presence is realized only with his absence! Alone, he doesn’t even worth a penny, but when properly directed, can even run a nation! Now you are relating it to Manmohan Singh on your own! Please stop!

Now what does B stands for? B looks like breasts when it sleeps, I don’t know why it stands at all!

C is the con among alphabets! You can never trust it! Sometimes it’s nice, at times it is cute! There are few others who seconds the path of C, for example G, but C still is in the lead in its’ tricks and has acquired the third spot in the list of characters. G on the other hand is my personal favourite for once when it goes in lowercase; you’ll find some nice curves and figure. g- see! It’s the most beautiful of all!

D and E are Hit-men, I suppose. Whenever you want to kill something and make it past, you call ED. I mean, generally!

F? Don’t talk about it. There was a time when F was seen in companies of good words! But it’s fine, people do get fucked up at times.

Now, if I really feel pity about a character, it’s H. Shome shay, H has went sho nonshense over time, that no matter how much H you use in a word, it mean the bloody same! That is a fatal shame!

And yes, don’t go on the slimness and thinness of I and J. No matter how much bag of bones they appear, they are the only ones, who have got balls!

K has some real jacks! SRK, Karan, and Ekta are few of them. I don’t know if it’s the jack or something, but K has delivered some absolute results over the period of time. It has almost dominated Kiran and has snatched Calcutta form C, entirely! It also has shown a great impact over Franz Kafka and high-class Indian urban mothers, who name their kids as K or KK, however, in this regard W tops the chart! I bet you’ll find around fifty thousand kids in India, named W.

L,M and N are like those Indian urban kids, who are being named without caring about its’ consequences in rural India. However hard they may try, rural people call them ‘Yul’, ‘Yum’ and ‘Yun’.

And please don’t care about what does O stands for! Whether it stands or sleeps or sit or whatever, it’s mysterious.

P,Q, R and S owe a lot to the quadrilaterals. If it weren’t for their geometry, P, Q, R and S would have been mere bumbling fools! The story goes further painful for R. If R should stand for something, it should be Rahul Dravid! You see, always there, but seldom acknowledged! However, with H losing reputation rapidly over time, R surely would have cashed in on some relief. Not so different is the case with X,Y and Z! They exist for algebra exists!

I feel T stands for showing its sheer excellence over balancing act. Hats off!

Among all the alphabets, I believe, A, B, C and D have been provided with higher statuses. They are the representatives of all other characters. When an uncle asks a kid whether he or she knows ABCD, he actually means to address all those 26 characters. The saga is so hurtful for XY and Z, that when a kid successfully reaches the 23^rd character, listener takes the last three for granted and finishes it off himself! You see, what degree of respect they have for algebra? Anyways, it’s not only our country’s democracy which is a flawed system, but even within this small system of characters, we have got four representatives, among which one is a con, one is a hit-man, you have already related one to Manmohan Singh, and following it further I’ll relate B to Rahul Gandhi, whom no one wants to stand!

And among all this, it’s really bad of you of not caring about UV, the guy is suffering from cancer after all!

P.S: If feeling erotic about g's curves, please switch to 'Times New Roman'.

Technicolor Taj Mahal

Mumtaj’s soul rests on Friday. Saturday is full of diversity. It is obvious. Friday’s rest makes weekend more troublesome. If you don’t have a camera, Taj is not a place for you. And yes, you must have someone to accompany, who can click an illusive picture of yours while you can stand stupidly posturing one of your hands holding the tip of Taj. The second hand!? Who cares? I assure you, at that very moment, if someone borrows your other hand for a lifetime, you’ll not even ask for a penny. All you do is stand mindlessly in a hope that the photographer will merge you intelligently with the Taj, and will make your pose look intelligent.

Now on a serious note, what will you do without a camera? All you want to have is a witness. A creative witness, more so! The intellectuality of the purpose behind the visit to the Taj is directly proportional to how far you have come from.

Local guys do well without cameras. They don’t want witnesses. They just want no witness about the fact that they were searching for solitary and they were with someone. Yes, Taj Mahal is in Agra and Agra is in Uttar Pradesh. Anyways, what can be a better place for romance? I guarantee, not even a single girl would have spared her boyfriend, with the question- “Will you build something of this sort for me?” And the guys generally would be responding with a sense of responsibility dissolved with shyness and smile-“Why not?” I say tourism department should nourish these loves, you never know when one such lover might get serious.

North Indians, excluding the inhabitants of Agra, visit Taj Mahal with a pride. They come with a feeling of possession. You’ll hear stuffs like “It’s one of the wonders of the world, it’s wonderful. It’s ours. Take a picture Pinky.” Even when they queue up for the tickets, they keep on discussing “Why are we being charged? It is our national heritage!”, until they buy the tickets. Anyways, they generally come to see the beauty. They don’t hire guides. Before reaching the guides, they already happen to buy tickets for Taj. They don’t want to spend much on their own national heritage. It’s their own. People from Delhi are dudes, they don’t want photographs. You’ll see local photographers there “Color-photo, Color-photo, Color-photo, Sir, you want color photo?” And people from Delhi- “No, no! It’s fine. We are dudes.”

South Indians are the craftsmen of poses. They hug the pillars, sleep on floors, lift a leg, watch the sky, turn into Natraj and leave them there alone, I am sure they’ll lick the walls. They don’t let any pose escape. It’s probably because, they aren’t much habitual of seeing white stuffs, and that too in enormity. Guides don’t attract them too. But they carefully follow the guides hired by some foreigner, whenever they get time from their photography.

Guides earn money through foreigners. Foreigners believe, they are in a foreign country and they ought to not know something, no matter how much research they have done before coming. And the guides there are so trained, that they snatch the word ‘WOW’, no matter how strictly a foreigner beheld his praises.

“Sir, it is one of the wonders of the world.”

“Okay.”

“It is completely built out of marbles!”

“Oh.”

“You see, they carved the marbles too very beautifully!!”

“Oh yes.”

“It was built in 17^th century!!!”

“Okay.”

“There wasn’t even computer that time to design the architect!!!!”

“Is it?”

“Sir, there really wasn’t any computer!!!!!”

“Oh.”

“It was really a very difficult task for that time. It took over 3 decades!!!!!!”

“Oho.”

“Sir Mumtaj was unquestionably beautiful. She indeed was the sexiest lady of that time!”

“WOW!!”

“Let’s move Sir.”

You see? If diversity united at a place is what one is looking for, Taj Mahal is that. Not less than people from 15 different states of India and 10 different countries of this world together crowd the place. Although not interacting, not troubling, just clicking and posing and romancing and duding and still coloring the place with their presence. I happened to visit it last Saturday. And what I found was a Technicolor Taj.

Attitude

I was not bad since my birth

This world forced me to be

I loved a girl with purest heart

And met the common tragedy

She said I am not good enough

But I was always best to her

I took care of her every dream

But follies I guess, she refers

Oceans of tears I drank

In depths of depression I sank

To get back to what I was

Evil was the pillar on which I bank

Hatred was what I began to deal

And it was all to abridge my grief

That’s the story of my being disliked

And birth of an unwanted thief.

I don’t share a different story

Our grieves, I suppose are same

But unlike me you are being hated

Your attitude is what I’ll blame

To avoid my tears I used laughter

I made others too to laugh

To hide my few despotic emotions

I painted my face on smile’s behalf

Despite the pains hidden inside

I am called a depression broker

That is how I still respect my love

And that is how I became a joker.

Buddy! I shrunk the kids!

“I have heard you are giving lectures to the students,” said Professor NKK in disgust, “I have heard you are giving lectures about Physics. I have heard you connect things to the real world and explain the laws of Physics. I have heard you are not giving notes!”

“Ha ha ha.” Laughed Professor RRS.

“I am sorry, sir.” said JS, in a low voice, “I always get confused about how to spend those 55 minutes.”

“Which 55 minutes?”

“All those 55 minutes.”

“How many such 55 minutes you get?”

“4 to 5 everyday, sir.”

“What about having a cup of tea with us?”

“I don’t drink tea sir, not for 55 minutes.”

“Ha ha ha.” Laughed Professor RRS.

“This guy is insane.” declared professor PMT.

“No madam, I am young. I am new.” defended JS.

“Look kid, the more you’ll teach, the more you’ll confuse them. Give them notes and finish things off!” NKK started again.

“But sir, don’t you think, it is our duty to teach them well. They can find notes from anywhere. The key is to build their concepts.”

“Ha ha ha.” Laughed Professor RRS.

“I told you, this guy is insane!” PMT interfered.

“Indeed you are new kid.” NKK concluded.

“I told you, I am, sir!”

“You haven’t told me, you told Professor PMT!”

“Oh! I am sorry sir!”

“Look JS” NKK leaned forward in superiority, “understand the system. Let things go, as they are going. Those kids will do well with their life. They are the one who needs to bother. Why are you taking pain to build their concepts?”

“Because he is insane!” PMT said.

“Ha ha ha” laughed Professor RRS, “ha ha ha.”

“Sir, because, doing well with one’s life isn’t sufficient for our country. The future prospects are getting damaged, with this action of ours.”

“Oh! He is insane.”

“Ha ha ha.”

“Look boy” started NKK, “I am putting it straight. Yesterday, in the laboratory, a student asked me to explain him the mechanism of Kater’s pendulum.”

“So?”

“So?”

“Yes. So?”

“Oh God, this guy is insane! I can’t keep on feeding them with spoon every time. They need to find it by themselves!”

“Yes! I told you, this guy is insane!”

“Ha ha ha.”

“So, what can I do in it?” asked JS in a puzzled expression.

“You can do many things by not doing anything.” Said NKK.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s because you are insane.” Told PMT

“Ha ha ha.” Laughed RRS.

“You are teaching them well. It is raising their expectations.”

“I suppose, that is why I am here.”

“No! You are here because you were qualified for being here.”

“But what they need my qualifications for?”

“To teach.”

“And that is what, I am doing.”

“No! You are not just teaching. You are teaching well!”

“They needed those qualifications for not to teach well?”

“Yes!”

“How can you say so?”

“I am not teaching well and they didn’t not need me. You are teaching well and you are in trouble.”

“How am I in trouble?”

“You are on ad hoc!”

“So?”

“I am the vice-principal too. You are in trouble.”

“I got it! What I need to do?”

“You just didn’t need to do anything.”

“Okay. But what I am supposed to do?”

“You have to start drinking tea.”

“Ha ha ha.” Laughed Professor RRS.

“What else?”

“Be our pal. Be our buddy. You’ll be always safe.”

“I got it!”

It was already late. The professors broke the daily meeting and went home. Next morning, in the similar manner, NKK, RSS, PMT along with few other Professors but JS, were discussing about the same topic they left in between, the previous day when suddenly the door opened. It was JS who was just coming after a class. Unlike everyday, he gave the students notes and said proudly-

“Buddy, I shrunk the kids!”

Mind on sale

Thoughts are playing in my mind

Like a homely feeling

But like a home it never acted

My mind has always been a resort or so

Every minute it was open for all

Few glories inspired

Few glints were bold

But mind was weak

For an owner to hold

Thoughts just come

And thoughts just go

My mind has always been a resort or so

The rain which showers me

Will just drench me tomorrow

But it’s not the water that transformed

Rain drops should not be blamed

But it’s the fickle head

A thought it should have claimed

Whom to invite

Like or dislike

A home should always know

My mind has always been a resort or so

The day I’ll make strict rules

The day I’ll organize my mind

The day I’ll posses an owner

I’ll be dangerous or I’ll be kind

But I’ll be free from all confusions

And that’s what all I know

Either I’ll keep you in my heart forever

Or will hurt you for once and go

But momentary wisdom pops, enjoys and fly

My mind has always been a resort or so

An 'unforgettable' phone call

Leo: (Pause) Hello! Hello! (Pause) Hello!

Sanju: Hello! Who is this?

Leo: My name is Leonard Shelby. Are you Sanjay Singhania?

Sanju: Yes. How do you know me?

Leo: Are you bald with distorted eight pack abs? And do you have weird tattoos all over your body? Is that you?

Sanju: Yes! Yes, I presume. But I am not bald! I have a peculiar strip in my hairs running till behind my head. And that tattoo…(snobbish laugh). . .

Leo: Yes, what about the tattoo?

Sanju: That’s a tricky one! When looked in mirror, it says ‘KALPANA WAS KILLED’…(snobbish laugh). . .

Leo: Whatever!

Sanju: But how do you know all this?

Leo: I have a picture of you below which is written in bold ‘POTENTIAL FRIEND’.

Sanju: What? Do you have the picture? Please, please try looking it in the mirror. You’ll surely find the tattoos tricky. ‘KALPANA WAS KILLED’. Really tricky!

Leo: Who is Kalpana?

Sanju: Don’t know. I forgot.

Leo: Oh!

Sanju: So?

Leo: I am wondering about how can you be a potential friend. Do we have anything in common?

Sanju: Maybe.

Leo: Let me check it out. What are your hobbies?

Sanju: I don’t remember.

Leo: Which is your favorite sport?

Sanju: I forgot.

Leo: Favorite color?

Sanju: Aaaa…mmm..just a second..aa..I ..I..I don’t know.

Leo: Favorite cuisines?

Sanju: I couldn’t recall?

Leo: Oh! Sad!

Sanju: Forget about me. You tell me about some of your peculiar habits.

Leo: I don’t really have much peculiar habits. One of which..aaa..you can say…aaa…a habit that I forget things too quickly!

Sanju: Oh! I am afraid, it doesn’t really seem we have any common traits. I think that the picture has a wrong caption. Who gave it to you?

Leo: I don’t remember.

Sanju: Then I really think, there is no way we could figure out anything common between us.

Leo: Don’t say that! I am really alone. I need a friend.

Sanju: Then go and look out in your neighborhood!

Leo: Oh! They are bunch of faggots! It pisses me off to see their fake appearances.

Sanju: Fake personalities turn me off too! But what happened?

Leo: One of their ugliest habits is to shed crocodile-tears over lost mementos. As if they have lost all access to the connected people.

Sanju: Oh yes! That over-acting! Oh what to say? It really pisses me off!

Leo: Hey! I guess, we actually have something in common! We get pissed off over similar issue!

Sanju: Oh yes, sheer observation!

Leo: Friends?

Sanju: Best friends!

Leo: Really?

Sanju: Of course!

Leo: Oh my dear friend Sanjay!

Sanju: I wish I could hug you and begin our friendship!

Leo: It has already begun!

Sanju: What has already begun?

Leo: Hello!?

Sanju: What has already begun?

Leo: What!?

Sanju: You were saying right now! What has already begun?

Leo: Who are you?

Sanju: Is it a kind of plot against me? Is it my countdown timer, which has begun? What has already begun? Who are you?

(Beep! Beep! Beep!)

Sanju: Hello! Hello! Hello! Pick up the phone! What has already begun?

A letter to my oldest poem

Oh! My old creation

You’ll be certainly happy to know

The compliments that I missed on you

Now often comes in a row

It all started with you

You are the first rung of my ladder

But in the interim of my climbing

I kept on getting better

I don’t see you often

But I am not now floating in air

I am nothing but an adolescent author

That is all your fonts declare

You still are dearest

Coz commotions you contain are core

I adorn them now with artificial attentions

Just to come on fore

After gathering fame

Publicizing you will be worthwhile

Coz all my unstructured phrases

Will then be coined as a style

I now know them well

You’ll be surely awarded with merit

Coz what looks simple and unattractive

They simply call it esoteric