Like a Complacent Engineer

Have you ever seen where the Devil resides? Or let me ask you a better question, have you ever diagnosed an engineering professor's mind? Yes now you know the answer and you already feel like I am exaggerating but no, the truth is, professors are a little more merciful than the guy who came up with the entire idea of killing people in gas chambers. No wonder the professors feel like over-burdening the helpless students with assignments that take about seven million years and some sixty five thousand more years to complete and they literally take a whip and order us to complete the assignments in a semester time. If you were convinced right in the first time that I wasn't exaggerating then I succeeded in manipulating you. Actually, we engineers are the most complacent beings to ever exist on Earth, and in fact even my turtle has approved me that he can't really match my level of complacency (I asked him Shelly, are you more complacent than me? He didn't give a fuck and I assumed his answer to be a no). I get about 8-10 assignments in one subject per subject which makes it about fifty assignments per semester or about ten assignments per month or like one assignments in three days. But, being a pro in procrastination, I, or as a matter of fact all other engineers, try delaying the writing process until we come down to a state when fifteen days are remaining and twenty five odd assignments are left to be written. Yet, the belief that we will save our ass from fire, or the dire need to save it gives us the fire from inside to complete this almost impossible task. Yes, our lives are just like that, with blogging and twitter to more common things like movie, music, love, dating and Whatapping taking place in the initial months followed by mid semesters, followed by normal routine and then the ultra pressure of semester work submission and semester-end exams. We enjoy life like hell and then curse ourselves for wasting time and then promise ourselves "Agle semester me pehle se regular ho jaunga". But being regular is something that cannot happen in these four years, engineering makes us repeat the mistakes seven times, and then they don't remain mistakes, they become a habit, a habit to screw up and accepting complacency as a way of living. 

A silly rhyme from the Insomniac

There's nothing to distract you,
your attention is mine,
the attention which I long for,
comes to me under the moonshine,
let the moments pass by,
making me feel more alive,
'cause it won't be the same,
once the dawn breaks,
once it's past five.

I feel high by your company,
you tend to know magic spells,
you tend to lighten the world up,
in which this silly bastard dwells,
So let let me dance holding your hand,
and know how it feels to be alive,
'cause it won't be the same,
once the dawn breaks,
once it's past five.

I am yet to discover,
the color of your brush,
'cause I can't just ask these things,
struck in the day's rush,
let the silly talks be done,
all through the night,
there's nothing to skive,
'cause it won't be the same,
once the dawn breaks,
once it's past five.

I can make thousand reasons,
and some more,
to let you not sleep,
and crave for the adore,
let us be ourselves,
let us feel a li'l more alive,
let us talk till the dawn breaks,
let us talk till it's past five.

(P.S: I scribbled the rhyme while sitting near the train door this morning, it basically lacks logic, vocabulary and of course poetry)

Little Moments

You deserve happiness every now and then. Be it staring deep into the eyes of your beloved and wishing the moment exists for a lifetime or holding her hand, intertwining those fingers and feeling the soft touch  of her palm against the palm of yours made brutally rough by the solder gun and the ends of single core connecting wires in your PCB circuit. Happiness can even be found in a cup of coffee at the end of writing the assignment at 2 am, the night before the deadline, reassuring yourself that you have saved your lazy ass from fire one more time, the coffee serves as a reward to your soul, trapped in an engineering student's body. Happiness may also be found in those late night walks with your room partner at perhaps 11 pm, with the sound of  horns of passing-by cars reducing every moment. True bliss surrounds you with the orange colored street light imitating the yellow one which emanates from the palm of lord Vishnu, you feel blessed by the urban God, by the urban streetlights. Happiness also remains hidden in the window seat of a bus going past the landmarks on a night which seems to completely accept you. The window opens up your mind, you feel like a temporary nomad with the road and night being your only companions who share the feeling of mutual love. Happiness is also present on the Sachin-Magdalla highway bridge on the Tapi river, the rays of setting sun, the cool wind striking against your face, and the mild movement of bridge, all when felt with eyes closed, transform the place into heaven. Even that "someone special", whom you have not dated yet, agreeing to remain awake for twenty more minutes just to chat with you has a euphoria hidden in it, which highly goes unnoticed, maybe because we're much more obsessed with achieving bigger things in life, buying a bungalow, earning in six figures, riding a car with a logo that raises your status and working endlessly to earn money in a way that leaves you with no time to enjoy life. Life is not about the bigger achievements, it is about these small moments of happiness because it is during these moments that life really takes place, if you miss these, you miss the opportunity to live another moment.  

The long wait

It's 8 am already but Rajesh is in no hurry to wake up today, neither does her mother feels the urge. Rajesh decided to skip school today, owing partially to the inevitable muscular pain resulting from last evening's hard work and partially due to the sorrow that is hidden in one corner of his heart. Yes, he cried last evening and he would remain on the verge of crying every now and then all through the day. His mother senses his bad mood and decides not to force him to study today. She wakes him up at 8:30 am just when the water in the German silver vessel begins to boil. Half sleepy, Rajesh brushes his teeth and takes a bath. Even his favorite breakfast, poha is not enough to make his mood any better.

Rajesh hurries to the society compound. The Pandal is still present, and so are Deepu, Parth, Dhruv and Shubham. The feeling of grief cuts across the society walls, all through Maharashtra and other parts of Western India. They share a helpless look, their Bappa is gone, their job is gone. A month earlier, they were assigned the task to collect chanda all through the society. They roamed here and there with the tiny yellow receipts, asking Rs 100 more this time telling "Aunty pyaaz bhi mehengi hain, mooriyon ke daam bhi badh gaye hain" . Rajesh never paid attention to the mathematics lessons his 'tuition aunty' used to teach him, but he doesn't make a single mistake while counting the notes before handling the entire bundle to Kamath uncle. After all, its not for a tuition test, it's for a greater reason, it's for his favorite God, it's for his Bappa.

Three weeks before, you could see Rajesh and his bunch of friends in that narrow lane on one corner of the city, bargaining furiously with the Idol-maker to reduce the cost of Ganpati they have selected to meet their budget. The considerate Idol maker is not money minded, its his eleventh meeting for the day and he has already made a loss of five thousand rupees in dealing with the children. However, the joy he gets to see on their face when the deal is made and knowing that he is partially responsible for it, is nevertheless priceless. He finally reaches a consensus with the children and he gets to see the joy once again. Once the gang has left, he looks up towards the heaven and smiles, firmly believing Bappa is looking at him and has already showered his blessings upon him. He returns to the task of finishing the idols and making them ready for the grand festival.

Over the series of next few days, you could see these chaps busy calling the flower supplier, the Pandal-maker, the priest and completing other such jobs. It's already been a week since they last attended the accounts class, dedicating their entire time to the preparation for the festival, ensuring no flaw remains. Financially, this doesn't get a very easy affair either. They have to plan and plan again to make ends meet. The price of every single commodity has gone up except the figure of the chanda or donation they get. Deepu has already visited the society's president's house for the fourth time this morning to get some extra funds. Their unbreakable faith on Bappa doesn't let them give up, no matter how many problems come up, they always manage to tide through uncertainties. The true sense of management can be learnt in these small pockets of the country where these young fellows, out of their devotion, always end up managing the finance, no matter how problematic the situation tends to become.

Even personally, it's not easy. Over the past few days, Rajesh has witnessed feeding all his pocket money as petrol to his black Scooty with white dots. His girl friend, Vaishali feels he is losing interest in her. Rajesh decides to deal with her later, feeling he has got much more important issues like ensuring that the lighting is done properly first. Last evening, Rajesh was scolded by his parents for not attending the classes. He has a just reason, not to attend the classes but his parents just don't seem to understand, he listens to all that his parents have got to lecture him with his head bowed. However, he keeps a track of the time, how can he miss the general meeting at 9 pm? After all the group is about to conclude all the preparation for the festival. Bappa's festival  is to begin tomorrow.

The grand day arrive and the Pandal's ready. Shubham is busy calling the priest, one hour before the destined 'muhurta'. The priest compains of the grand traffic that can be witnessed on the street of the city. Nevertheless, due to Bappa's grace, he reaches on time. The 'shubh muhurta' arrives and the carnival begins. Over the next five days, you can see Dhruv close to the dvd player and addressing the lighting issues, Shubham carrying the bowls of prashad every evening to the society homes and Rajesh sitting next to Bappa's idol and handing over the prashad to the people who have come to visit. They never realize when those five long days ended.

Last morning. Rajesh ensured that the couple of trucks they booked for the immersion ritual have arrived beforehand. Packets of pink colored powder of Gulaal are ready to paint the procession in pink. The drums are ready and so are the saffron headbands. The boys have made all the required arrangements for the ritual and the grand afternoon arrives. The boys lift the idol to the truck and the procession begins. You could spot Rajesh wearing the saffron headband, beating the drum and shouting slogans of 'Ganpati Bappa Morya'. Amid traffic, the procession somehow reaches the 'ghaat' where the ritual is destined to take place. The idol has been lifted off the truck and the immersion is about to begin. Rajesh touches Bappa's feet with moist eyes asking Ganpati to come back next year. Minutes later, the idol has been immersed in the stream of flowing water and the boys are all wet. The trucks begins to return to the society. However, the atmosphere in the truck is different from what it was a couple of hours earlier. You can sense the gloom on their pink colored faces replacing the cheerful faces. The Idol is missing too. The Sun is setting and Rajesh is busy staring the setting sun, avoiding any eye contact. The pink color Gulaal and the reddish shade of the sun combine to form a unique color on his face, a color that can only be found in India. A shade, among many others that uniquely define India. This color has a shade of immense devotion, a shade of the universal feeling of love, a shade that defines the relation between God and his devotee and a faith that keeps on telling the young boy that Bappa will come back, no matter if the wait is a year long.  

Farts

There are people who exist, there are people who are gifted with brain and intellect, there are people who recognize what freedom really is and then there are people who don't think much before farting. Perhaps, God's blessings were showered in an increasing order in that manner. And then there are two kinds of people in these universe. One, who think farting is a fundamental human right and then the other, who are intellectually challenged. Farting is something that sophisticated people try to despise, but then they too have to agree that farting is inevitable. And those who think farting is embarrassing are basically called morons by their stomach. I mean, if you think more about what others would think than what your stomach will go through, you have to learn an art, the art of living. 

Acceptance

Lunatic,
dark humored,
coarse,
clumsy,

bad tempered,

potty mouthed,

incomprehensive,

unacceptable,
intolerable,
highly acerbic,

the psychopath walks on his own,

your acceptance gets too expensive. 

Our Conversations..

How I wish,

you remained awake,

four and a half minutes more,

every single night;

had those silly chats,

continued for,

a few more moments,

I could have ended up,

knowing you more.

How I check,

your 'last seen at',

every single time,

I get free,

just to make,

another small conversation;

those little conversations,

mean more to me,

than you would ever know.

How I stare aimlessly,

at your display picture,

waiting for the phone,

to beep and vibrate;

only if you knew,

how closely I look at,

those small details,

a certified stalker,
you tend to make me.

How I tend to think,

harder and harder,

when it takes,

one second,

and forty five more microseconds,

for your status to change from,

online to typing;

I wonder who you're busy chatting with,

yes one little silly bastard I am.

How I wish,

those emojis,

could have conveyed,

a little more emotions,

I could have known,

what you think,

when I text you, 

thirty three times,

a small single day.

How I wish,

it was your voice,

it was your laughter,

instead of the simple lol,

and uncountable hahaha,

I could have actually been,

a little more proud,

of the humor,

that I possess.

My thoughts,

as mindless as,

my talks,

tend to resonate,

at one corner,

of my head,

I think,

I smile,

I What's App you,

and smile a little more.

P.S: I begun writing this initially as What's App texts to someone, last night. As promised, I ended up making a poem out of it.