Wednesday, 19 September 2007

lament of a youth in the modern world

My head is being fried
Im being indoctrinated
into believing that the cut and dried
world out there is not only real
but actually makes sense.

That the exams which are obviously so illogical
that make me so
are actually vital to my success

why am i being made
to mug up facts to
learn by rote, knowledge that will fade
into space once i vomit them onto
a piece of compressed wood pulp.

and the system whose very existence threatens my sanity
one that will gulp
my badly remembered rubbish
and translate it into a percentage,
two digits that will shape the rest of my life

to describe my life at an age,
as a page
which is not only
but also so utterly


When does it ever change,
When and why and who and what,
Iambic Pentameter I was taught,
Remember it now,

I do not.

Jumbled algorithms,
And dreams of epic glory,
Fade with time and pass on.
We are no more,
Than those two stupid digits,
Or that one foul letter,

The world judges,
Us by those things,
Because the world

the reply isn't by me (as you may have guessed by the phenomenal increase in talent)

Monday, 17 September 2007

part two- soap operas

we have invented what is popularly known as the 'soap opera'. we have decided that one of the most interesting ways to entertain ourselves would be to watch a tv show that admits that it will never end. characters are killed and resurrected, cancer comes and goes like hay fever, relationships begin and end in the flash of a second, but last a lifetime, and by the end of it, there is so much backstory the only way to do anything is to fastforward a few years and hope for the best.
the ages of the characters is impossible to determine. new characters are introduced out of necessity, but how does everyone manage to look so stunning?. to the layman, nothing happens in one episode. a lot seems to be happening, otherwise the people on screen wouldn't be crying so much, but after its over, all that has happened is the ending, which is invariably a cliffhanger.
the question at the end of it is 'what was the point ?'

Tuesday, 11 September 2007

reading through ian mcewan's Atonement, and it is very plotless. what is happening in the book? there are five storylines, fifteen characters and zero plot.
and then suddenly, halfway through the novel, two kids run away and someone hits someone else. i mean what? what what what what what what what the heck?

im reading neil gaiman a lot, which is probably a symptom of home dislocation. he just thinks of the most bizarre plots and characters and effortlessly tells not only the story, but incorporates everything between humor and philosophy into the book. if you get any chances to read any of his novels, grab them. he's even written several comic books, including the sandman, which is about Morpheus, the king of dreams. i bought two (very expensive) collections and i can't stop rereading them.

i realised exactly how sad i am when i had to read sita's blog to find out that the flyover in hyderabad collapsed.

the maths im doing somehow seamlessly alternates between 'i did this years ago' and 'what the heck is this nonsense and how am i supposed to decipher it???'
my physics teachers are bonkers. they teach physics brilliantly, though.
i am now actually doing homework for the first time in my life.

i need more music.
i actually also need more space on my ipod, since there is no space for my new music, whenever it arrives.

Friday, 7 September 2007

proof that the human being is stupid part one of a many part series

the tie must be the most crappy idea that the english race, or maybe even humanity as a whole, has ever invented. what kind of person would actually knot and then tighten something that is essentially a rope against his neck, and then consider it a fashion statement? because it has pretty patterns on? first, one buttons that top button, the one that you thought never had any use, and then one seems to attempt to strangle oneself. it looks like we've figured what will kill us, and then backed it off a little bit. i mean, what are we trying to say? that we've managed not to commit suicide? it doesn't even have a function. the shirt and the pant we wear to cover ourselves, the jacket we wear because we feel cold (in theory, at any rate), but the tie?