Monday, January 2, 2012
So just to emotions to my work of art, yes I brought my laptop in the bathroom and I am writing this article while I am on the pot. Trust me, though how gross or weird you might find this whole idea of anyone writing about their experience of pooping but this is something even you must have experienced while attending your daily nature call that this moment is creatively the most liberating moment of the day. You come with the brightest of ideas, most creative of thoughts. At times you get solution to the most stubborn problems or like in my case, your mind works as the most eloquent thesaurus for the simplistic words. I am sure, most of the police cases, mathematical solutions and similar intellectual adventures must have taken place while the brightest minds of our age were reaching this pseudo nirvana. The most amazing part is that you get to experience it more than twice a day.
If you examine closely the set up of this particular activity, you’ll find that it is a masterpiece in itself. Bathrooms are my favorite place in the world. This is one place where the boundaries of time and place cease to exist. There are no reasons to which you are bound to, no past to be guilty of, and no future that you are responsible for. This is the black hole between the parallel universes where all the sciences of existence defy itself and what remains is the substance of you which is as real as it’ll ever be.
I pity those who are refrained from this undoubtedly divine experience, not only because of the physical repercussions but also because of they are unaware of a paragon of pulchritude. These people are like handicapped in its literal sense because they aren’t even differently able in this case.
And those who can, guys, there is only one thing I want to tell you, YOU ARE DAMN LUCKY. Relish every damn second of this scared exercise because you do not know which mystery this bite of apple, from the tree of knowledge, might reveal.
Worth of a poop is more than a poop!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
She was sitting there, as always, bit confused, bit frustrated and very impatient. She had always carved for serenity for herself but couldn't resist the whims of the panting power she posses. As always, night sings to her, not the sweet melodies but the sad symphonies of hurt, pain and war. She looks out in the night searching for the reflection of who she wants to be. All that is there for her is darkness, counter questions to the already prevailing questions of hers. If it were one of those days, they would have told her that she talks a lot and she would have smiled and replied that it just seems so. Today she has stop asking questions because those who could have answered scares her and she refuses to go those who could have provided her with faith, because she take it insult to her pride to ask for pity. Entangled in her own illusions, what she knows what pity is.
The song of the night is long lost to her. She is still in conflict with herself that whether the next day will see her fighting back or just her living again in shadows. Every day she stops by this river, asking same questions to herself. One day she had brought him here with her and told him about her qualms for the next day. That day he had asked her why she is so lost. Then she had answered because she likes it this way. But today... she is sure no more.
The security of being unaware doesn't lure her any more. Now she realizes that she had been her too long for her own good. She had crossed this river many a times before but this time she wants to leave for ever. Where would she go? As always she doesn't know. But this time there is something she actually knows.
This time... she'll reach some where!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
"Is he there?"
Sunday, July 6, 2008
if you ask me.. i was never a book lover as a kid.. like others.. i used to wonder how can anyone even think of reading 400-500 pages.. for that they have to be a out of their mind.. even now i don't think any different.. its just that i have accepted that i am out of my mind.. lol!!
i started with books like Treasure Island, Invisible Man.. but couldn'nt finish them.. they were quite intresting..yes.. its just that i was too lazy!!
so here was an year which i had to spend with my granny.. not that she was fussy or kind.. but still i got nothing intresting to do, you see.. there i finished my first book.. 20,000 league under the sea..!!
i must say i couldn't have a better start..
but still that wasn't the one which hook me to books.. next year i befriended a girl who was just crazy about books.. nancy drew's mainy.. you know how its like when your friends do somthing cool,you are like.. lemme try.. so here i was reading nancy drew.. told ya mystery is something i can't resist.. n they were good.. seriously!!
but yet not enough to keep me intrested.. as it happens she was through with all nancy drew's available in the library so she jumped to next author.. n so did i!!
how was i to know whoz good n whoz not.. i was new.., right!!
so here he was.. with all his mysteries n chills..
n he seriously got me hooked.. n since then i am slave to books!!