Friday, November 07, 2008

But I do love him, I'm sure

But I do love him, I'm sure
Though there are things I hate
like integrity, maybe
Oh that's too big a word

Yes love it must be I guess
just not so divine and great
like in story books, nah
its just the real world

But why then did I walk
with you that night so late
and felt in chilling abandon
that I was flying like a bird

You became my freedom that night
from the boundaries of love and hate
And talked, us two, in the clutch of a hug
without a spoken word

My heart was pure emotion,
yours beat with a force too great
The wind that flew wasn't real
it wasn't the real world

I knew I'd have to make
a choice that was already late
between a secure city girl
or the harsh sky life of a bird

And choose him I did over your
rare perfect moment's lure
My love may not be as pure
But I do love him, I'm sure

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

The Story Of The Fucking Asshole

So there was this asshole, as in, literally. Stud asshole. Stud because he got to fuck. A lot. That's why the names. Both Fucking Asshole and Stud.

So one day the thought struck him. He got really worried. He used to wonder. Whether it's really him who's doing the fucking. Can holes fuck.

Isn't creation the reason for the creator being called so?
Isn't the shadow in the mirror watching you as intently as you?
Don't the shoes wear you when you wear them?
Doesn't the TV watch you?
Isn't it mice experimenting on humans?
Wasn't it man who created god?
Doesn't the bed sheet sleep over you?
Wasn't the world falling on you when you last jumped off a building?
Isn't life living you too?
Won't your death die with you?
Doesn't money exchange the hands of men?
Didn't the water bottle just drink air?
Don't your hands cover the glove?
Doesn't the ball play the batsman?

So when you're fucking a fucking asshole, who's really fucking whom?

Friday, August 15, 2008

good life

So there's this motion I feel these days
of a calm, meaningful pace
that seems to nod to me and say
'keep walking, you're on your way'
Getting by, getting high
living by living high
away in the lights
killing lonelier nights
trotting one step a time
walking without rhyme
for a reason is no more
for i hit a closed door
and i breathe in its fresh paint
and die every breath i take
so there's this friend that i trust
who gets my sanity go bust
so i can laugh out loud again
in the oblivion of insane
when the people leave the way
fearing whatever i may
do or to them say
like i'm really not ok
while i balance and stumble
and incoherently mumble
while explosions in my head
smear its insides red
i am stuck i am stuck
i am stuck deep in this muck
why, i just ran out of luck
no, maybe just made it all up
wait, i might just have been lying
no way, i'm really dying
right, dying for no one's smile
and dying under a pile
of self-made stupid dreams
that, rightly, now it seems
are so long starved and dead
for they were only in my head
and my own head, this
rotten bas..tard, is
killing itself now pushing the blame
to those who never did claim
that there was ever a point at all
that there was ever a dent on the wall
and shrugged and walked away
and left no more to say

Saturday, August 02, 2008

The Theory of the Unconventional

In reply to this:

I’ll try to keep it short (which basically means its going to be long. I’ll try nevertheless)

1. Rather than ‘being’ unconventional, its about discovering whether you are. Mishra’s right, it should not be forceful. For you won’t be ‘discovering’ then, only trying to ‘be’ (unconventional). But on the other hand, it should not be constrained either! For then you’re only trying hard to be conventional, not discovering. So don’t push yourself, and don’t pull yourself. Let loose. Break free. Float. Free fall.

2. If you, as you say, don’t know whether your life is on autopilot, then it definitely is. Making decisions is a conscious thing. You don’t do it in your sleep.

3. “Disturb yourself”. These are not my exact words you bastard. kuch bhi bolega! Anyway, what you mean by it is probably what I meant by whatever I said. And so this one deserves further clarification. Here goes:

I love climbing down the stairs. Climbing up is easy and conventional, there are only so many ways (some 3 or 4) you can do it. But climbing down is more freedom, for you can do it in a lot more ways and also its easier. Now why I like climbing down is actually because of what I do with it. And what I do with it is, I Let Loose. I let my body have a near free fall and then try to control the mess! Take huge jumps, skip 5 6 or more steps, land with a thud on a step and so on, and yet be safe at all times. This trying-to-steer-an-out-of-control-system is the fun part for me. And the final landing on the ground, I try to make it as much as I can, a fitting finale. In dark contrast, climbing down one step at a time, is lame as lame can be.

Now this, is what I meant by disturbing yourself. This is what Joker meant by introducing anarchy. BUT, there is a stark difference. A difference that makes all the difference. That I am introducing anarchy in only my own life, so that it only affects me, and kills only my own boredom. Whereas the Joker is taking with him the whole world for a ride. Which is sick, in my opinion.

4. The fourth, the last, and probably the most important point of this point-list by me is what will make this whole discussion futile (seemingly so, for I don’t think anything at all, ever, is futile).

The over-hyped point, thus, is this:

Everything, when sampled for a large enough population, becomes a Normal Curve. (I don’t know whether this statement is true, but I’ve never found a conflict). People of the world, too, seem to fit into this. Imagine a bell (normal) curve, where people beyond the 95% (or whatever) mark on the right form the minority, and everyone on their left is the majority.
Most of the people on this planet (the majority) are average, and conventional. And that should not surprised anyone, for that is the definition of ‘average’ and ‘conventional’. A few of them, though, are not so (the minority). They’re unconventional. Now when the chance comes, it is these unconventional people (whether they know they’re so or not is immaterial) who will not chain themselves for fear of being unconventional.

It is now possible, and happens all the time, that during the journey of his life, a person shifts from the minority to the majority (which is mostly because he became stagnant and not-interesting and the world caught up to him, thus engulfing him into the majority). Also, a lot of new borns are landing onto the planet. And as they grow, fall into the Normal Curve of Interestingness. The curve may shift to the right (towards more interesting) if the new borns turn out to be more intelligent and interesting, or to the left if otherwise. Now, though the curve has shifted, the precious statement still holds true that those beyond the 95% (or whatever) mark will be called unconventional and those to their left are again, conventional. Thus, at all times, the world has a given percentage (that will not change substantially) of the weirdos, even though the people making up those percentages may shift places.

And thus, it is wrong and futile to try to make the whole world unconventional, or to be unhappy (as you say I am) with the fact that everyone in the world is normal. I am not doing either of these. I’m only saying, discover yourself. Don’t tie your hands. Don’t have limits. Don’t live under the weight of what they tell you you are. Knowing fully well, that those who’re unconventional, will listen to me and those who are normal, just won’t get it.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Song of her life


She wanted to visit
that world in her dreams.
She wanted to breathe
in that scented air.
She needed a long big
lungful of freedom.
She wanted a hand
to filter through her hair.

She always thought
of a long windy beach.
She dreamed of mermaids
and waves and a moon.
She had bright white wings
in her dreams one and all.
And her flowered fearless dreams
always ended way too soon.

Bu when she woke up,
what she saw,
just wasn't half
what she had seen.
The rowdy world
just seemed so raw
... compared to
where she'd been.

She always tried
to look excited.
Always tried to
beam at people.
But she'd seen
a purer form,
yeah she'd touched
a smoother petal.

She seemed to throw
a gazeless gaze.
She seemed to float
just inches above.
She used to unnerve
approaching guys
and she looked not
made for love.

at so many levels.
She was living
two different lives.
She opened, in one,
her wings with flourish.
In other,
she barely survives.


She did try hard,
yes she did, to keep faith.
She had let open her soul,
to a stranger from this world.
She had let the two worlds merge
she had let him enter hers.
She had loved like none ever did.
She had let her world unfurl.

Those were moments
never forgotten,
but those were
only in her mind.
It was she who
lived alone,
through the love and
later, the grind.

He had, in his
heart of hearts,
never experienced
her dreams.
Hand in hand
they were, yes,
yet present in
different realms.

The hands then
grew apart,
their fingers never
touched again.
For a moment she held
the wet in her palms,
her eyes did rain.

She saw that blank
smile one day,
his hand held
someone's hands again.
He was happy as much
as he knew to be.
She, as much she knew,
bore pain.

She knew
she was wrong to remorse.
She had nothing
on him to blame.
The guilt was
hers to have trusted.
Him and her lover
weren't same.


She grew up
as before,
with her secret
Yes she had
her share of men,
as her womanhood's

She kissed
but never felt,
her heart would
never melt.
She touched
and was touched,
but only
as deep as her pelt.

She loved none,
she hated none.
She wandered
alone in nights.
For the fear of
seeing those dreams
of mountains,
skies and kites.

But then one day,
as it had to happen.
One day
she stumbled and fell.
Fell onto something
that wrenched her heart,
those words
that formed a spell.

She read it
full and through
with eyes
abnormally unblinking.
It was her life,
she'd thought it all before,
she didn't
need to be thinking.

Someone thought just
as she did,
she wasn't
alone it seems.
She searched for the man
who wrote this poem
and talked of the
world of her dreams.

Monday, May 12, 2008

The Ghost of the Scooty

Fear o' child, fear o' young minds
Fear the moment when you, he finds.
The boogeyman is running loose in the city
depriving you of your own identity

Insane and insanely dedicated to his duty
It's a bloody ghost, the ghost of the scooty
Not a soul is safe while the guardian abounds
Ala Batman in Kgp, the vigilante on the rounds.

"You don't get it kid, its not your roads to walk
These are not safe times, look at the clock!
Oh no I don't care", "Hell but a Prof I am!"
"Back off mister, I'm the Saviour. And I don't give a damn."

Sunday, April 20, 2008

ab bhi kuch raatein meri
yun zaaya ho jati hain
khali khali dil hota hai
aur aankhein bhar jati hain

Friday, April 11, 2008

ghut-ta hun aag mein apne hi dahekte badan ki

jaise dahekte gagan
mein ho panchi-dehen
aise jalti pawan
mein aatur mera man

jaise sholon mein
tadpe chingari
aisi hai aag mere
yaar ki yaari

jaise dube ho machli
gehri ganga mein
aise tadpe hai man,
man ki hud-danga mein

Thursday, April 10, 2008

dilwa dance maare re (lyrics - tashan)

white white face dekhe
dilwa beating fast sasura dance maare re

white white face dekhe
dilwa beating fast sasura dance maare re
hohooo... white white face dekhe!

white white face dekhe
dilwa beating fast sasura chance maare re
ho very
ho very
oho very happy in my heart dil dance maare re
[very happy in my heart dil dance maare re]

dil dance maare dance maare, dil ye dance maare!
oye happy in my heart dil dance maare re

oye cast off my feet!
cast off my feet julamwa!
kare hai jalim beat

haye cast off my feet julamwa
kare hai jalim beat
kadakti heat mein ban ja dheett
nainan se nain mila le
baat dil ki na chupa re
ho aaja mujhko tu bata de

ho very happy happy happy
ho very happy in my heart dil dance maare re
[very happy in my heart dil dance maare re]

o dil dance maare dance maare dil ye dance maare
oye happy in my heart dil dance maare re

oooo rose ke jaisan pink pink
hamre gaal gulabi
sky ki jaisan blue blue
ee tohra nain sarabi
bhola chehra jaise moon
kali zulfein jaise cloud
ab na aur chupaya jaye
dhadkan hoyi gayi very loud
[ho dhadkan hoyi gayi very loud]
[dhadkan hoyi gayi very loud]

tohra dil ka dhadkan maaaa
tohra dil ka dhadkan maa
dil diwana booking
advance maare reeeee

hamre dil ka theatre maa
dil diwana booking
advance maare reee

o very!
o very!
o very happy in my heart dil
dance maare re!

[very happy in my heart dil dance maare re]
o dil dance maare dance maare
dil ye dance maare
oye happy in my heart dil
dance maare re

white white face dekhe
dilwa beating fast sasura
dance maare re

white white face dekhe...

white white face dekhe
dilwa beating fast sasura
dance maare re

o very!
o very!
o very happy in my heart dil dance maare re!
[very happy in my heart dil dance maare re]

o dil dance maare dance maare
dil ye dance maaare
oye happy in my heart dil dance maare re!!!
very very happy in my heart dil dance maare re!


Wednesday, April 09, 2008

aaj bhi na aya koi

aaj bhi na aya koi
aaj bhi na aankhen royi

fir aaj raahein khali thi
aaj bhi sukhi dali thi

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

linked lists

profs, pissed, pink floyd, perl, peace

observe, remember, rewind, analyse, understand

complaints, provoked, think, conclude, silence

Monday, March 24, 2008

na sata mujhe

na sata mujhe
na bata mujhe
kya hota tha
kya hota hai

na yad dila
na ghut pila
tu aansu ke
dil rota hai

na badlunga
na ab lunga
ehsan tere
farmaan tere

ja ho naraaz
ya de awaz
kuch waqt to aur
ye hona hai

fir tujhe zarurat na hogi
fir meri zarurat kya hogi
fir kehna tab dekhunga main
man mein mera bhi kona hai


jaise dil hi na ho

jaise dil hi na ho
jaise ruh khali
jaise bhaav hon gum
par man sawali

jaise sun na saku
jaise nazar nahi
jaise chunti kaatu
par asar nahi

aise khalipan se
jaise bhara hua
jaise saans chale
par mara hua


Sunday, March 23, 2008

bhedo ki bheed

deewarein rakhe dimago mein
firte hain sadko raho mein
aankhein hai par nazrein nahi
chahatein rakhe salakhon mein

anjan hain wo beiman nahi
icchha hai par armaan nahi
kisi lau ki koi chamak nahi
andhera bhara hai aankhon mein

bachkane se hridayvan mein
beintaha khalipan mein
panape hai zindagi in sabki
bandhi khud hi ke dhaago mein

aakaar to lo vistaar to lo
kuch karne ka vichaar to lo
khade hain bas ek kataar main
mar chuki hai dhun sab raagon mein

na hasi hai unke thahakon mein
na karah unki aahon mein
bas hath baandh kar yu apne
chal pade allah ki panahon mein


Saturday, March 22, 2008

ab meri har raat suhani hai

ab meri har raat suhani hai,
ab mera ye jism jawani hai,
teri sari sunni hain baatein
ab mujhe har baat batani hai

ab meri har saans rawani hai
ab meri duniya deewani hai
ab meri aankhon mein khushi aur
ab meri aankhon mein pani hai

teri tasveer banani hai
mujhe wo dil mein chupani hai
kahin bhi jau to le jau
aisi saugat sajani hai

maana ye duri to aani hai
maana beraham kahani hai
wahi dur se sun jaye tujhe
basuri ki aisi dhun bajani hai

jane tu jane ke na jani hai
ye dhadkan jo tufani hai
ise tere pyar ko pana hai
ye tere pyar ne pani hai


Thursday, March 13, 2008

do mukam

mukam do hain zindagi mein
pane ko betaab yun hain.
lalachi kamzoriyan,
danav wo benaqaab kyu hain

yun kabhi ehsaas tha hua
pa liye jaise hon manzil
par mukam tha akela
kyuki mera dil tha buzdil

gir ke jhuk ke yu kisi ke
pairo pad ke paye wo kya
manzil hai dono ko pana
ek ko paye ho to kya

koshishon se ek din fir
chot kha, sabko hara kar
duja mukaa bhi aya to hai
par jo dekha, sir ghuma kar

pehli manzil chhod di hai
wapas kahi wo ja khadi hai
ye bhala kya zulm maula
ye bhala kaisi ghadi hai

pa sakenge ek ko hi
pate hi duji hai kho rahi
jane ye rishta hai kaisa
ye jo mil jaye to wo nahi

haarne girne ke mausam
to nahi lautenge par ab
ja lute manzil meri ya
chahe lut bhi jaye ghar ab

paunga jo paunga to
sath hi dono mukam
na jo paye, kar guzar
jayenge sab hi ko salaam

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

perl script to block comment in perl scripts (including itself :P )


a script to comment/uncomment blocks in perl scripts

save this executable perl script in any folder that is included in PATH, or in ~/bin (which is already there in PATH). (and also make sure it is executable if it somehow doesnt work)

Usage: commentscript perlscriptname
where perlscriptname is the... make a wild guess... yip, the script containing the block that you want commented.

In any perl script, to comment blocks of code, put a block (a collection of consecutive lines, nothing more) between ## and ## (they should both be at the start of a line), and run this script on it (by passing perlscriptname as a command-line argument).

To uncomment, change both the ##'s to ##! and run this script on perlscriptname again.


print "hi. ";
print "hah.";

print " blah hash";
print "hash functions are cool";

changes to

print "hi. ";
# print "hah.";
# print " blah hash";
print "hash functions are cool";


print "hi. ";
# print "hah.";
# print " blah hash";
print "hash functions are cool";

changes to

print "hi. ";

print "hah.";

print " blah hash";

print "hash functions are cool";

ps - for extra safety, the script also makes a backup copy of the original perlscriptname by the name of perlscriptname.backup in the folder that the script (commentscript) is run from.
psst - comments, bug reports, and additional feature requests are... as ever... most welcome.

Monday, March 10, 2008

killprog - handy bash script to kill hung up processes

a handy bash script to kill required processes:


save this file in your ~/bin/ folder

usage: killprog [program1] [program2] ...

killprog vlc
killprog firefox
killprog vlc firefox

ps - if it doesnt work, make sure it is an executable.
chmod +x killprog

comments, bug reports, and additional feature requests are welcome :P