Archive for the 'Mundane' Category

Broken Mirrors

I’m so happy.. Cause today I found my friends,
Their in my head.
I’m so ugly.. That’s OK cause so are you,
We’ve broken mirrors.

These lines are from a Nirvana song, Lithium (Nevermind). The line “We’ve broken mirrors” attempts to describe a state of moral decay where values cease to matter. Human, being a social animal, evaluates it’s actions and behaviour against the norms established by the society as a whole. He checks himself out in this social mirror to ensure that it “looks” good. Though this largely fosters hypocrisy, it at least keeps anarchy in check.

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Why?

Why

Dispute Settlement

There’s a constant noise, but its meaningless to me. A constant hum of my classmates, low treble – high bass, and a varying note of the lecturer. He is talking about something related to Human Resource, is elaborate at times and normal at others. But there’s a constant noise, an incessant chatter. I am not complaining. Though I can’t even do that.

The Blackboard has an eerie figure. Some kinda flowchart. The heading reads ‘Dispute Settlement’. Don’t wanna read any more. Don’t wanna strain my eyes and push my inertia. No I am not lazy. But I don’t wanna waste my time and energy. How can they teach me life in a classroom?

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What did she want?

I happened to be the last living being who stared in her eyes. I still remember that exchange. She looked into my eyes while she was struggling for life. Those deep blue wonders had something to say, some request for me. At that moment I was unable to understand that tacit conversation. I felt sorry for her, made a requiem and left the place as she left the world.

That look mystified me, but I ignored all that happened. I forced myself into believing that it was a mere coincidence. I never wanted to crop up my brain with it for the fear of getting sore again.

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Mundane

I was going through a forgotten huge bundle of old books and notebooks today. My favorite text books, old diaries, cuttings of newspaper articles, frayed notes.. I have been dragging few cartons of such stuff since my high-school years. They are really old and some of them are even of no relevance anymore, yet there is some part of me in all those.. its hard to let them go now.

The junk also had few old writings of mine. My fascination with words and literature started early. As a kid I always enjoyed writing and reading. It was good to receive honest appreciation, but the pleasure of watching my words on a piece of paper making some sense, portraying a thought, used to be the real motivation.

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