Let’s save the good words for the strong,
Let’s reserve the encouragement for the weak.
May the tide be with the competent,
And let luck glance upon the struggling.
Today we unite once again as we always will,
To make pretend and rejoice for the equality of humanity.
May the crippled man run with the fit,
May the mute debate with the politician.
Oh yes indeed, let us all rejoice,
At how very equal mankind is.
For surely we are equal?
Our sanity has been approved and the stamp
of many a dozen, reputed, medical institutes grace it.
If there is confusion amongst the peoples,
A simple query is posed,
“If what is spoken of seems so blatantly unequal,
and if humanity is so very sane and kind,
how could such a system still exist?
For wouldn’t the warrior that the common man is,
rise up to fight against such inequality?”
The very existence of such a system,
in an age filled with such civil people,
Is proof of its legitimacy.
And so it is said,
Let the voices of the few who dissent,
be stifled down and silenced!
The world, our world, does not need their equality,
Their equity! We are complete as we are now.
Indeed, let us break bread with the insane,
and laugh knowledgeably at his words.
I met him near the well,
his pants soaked with water.
He looked at me cheerily
and laughed at me despite himself.
Our introductions were curt,
our conversations brittle.
I told him he was a fool,
He told me I was not.
The confusions that followed then,
the little accusations of mirth.
I decided then to treasure
and make pretend that they were real.
The well was demolished one day,
and I saw him sitting beside the rubble,
eyes downward as if his soul was spiraling down too.
His love for the well, i could not comprehend.
The next day my compatriots knew,
of the gent by the well and our established friendship.
Our merry making was known to all in the town,
But every where I looked, cold eyes followed me.
The next day he came late,
and asked me if I was okay.
I smiled to him and said,
that with him by my side, I would always be.
When my mother heard my confession,
she looked at the open window,
and gently holding my hand said,
that she would always love me.
The days of summer suddenly seemed alive,
and for the first time I felt,
the burn of autumns brown leaves
and the rush of the spring breeze.
The morrow I was summoned
and take a trip I did,
at the behest of my mother,
to a kindly gentleman’s place.
Drink this, my mother said to me,
as she gave me a little red pill.
I took the tablet quietly and
gargled it down with water.
When I went to the well next,
My friend seemed to be absent,
I called for him all day,
but never got an answer.
Truly it is sad, how lonely sanity is.
I feel especially tensed today. I was filling in an entry in my diary when I realized that I am actually quite unhappy with the way I am right now. Or rather, I feel claustrophobic thinking about how every move I make is monitored by society. It’s made me wonder how someone as crazy and independent as me has suddenly become a serf to society.
Being a responsible adult, dressing a certain way, talking a certain way. Did I actually make all those decisions? Who am I?
I’m a loner. I like being alone and with my laptop, watching obscure shows till the wee hours of the morning. I’ve pretty much rejected society and thoughts of a normal life. But I can’t help but wonder. Am I really okay with the way I am? Do I actually like being alone? When and how did I become a loner? Wasn’t I an incredibly jovial social person? I used to love reading and playing with my friends! (I use the word “play” because the last time I did anything of the sort I was in grade 8).
I’ve rejected society, but why? Am I actually independent? Am I okay with having no one to rely on. Am I okay with being friendless, alone and desolate? Am I fine? How did I become this way?
I’m sorry for the rant. It’s just that I’ve never thought about how I turned out this way. I love myself. I’m not depressed. But I do want to know why i am the way I am. And at the same time I cannot help but feel suffocated by the world around me.
The world that wants me to conform to a certain norm. The world that wants me to do something I may not enjoy. The world that turns a blind eye. I turn a blind eye. But can I really blame the world? Maybe I’m not brave enough. Maybe it is me who does not have the courage to spread my wings and soar. Soar. Soar. Soar.
I want so much more that it’s making me choke up. Please, I want to break free of these chains.
Are there any chains?
Is it wrong to yearn to remain naive forever? Is it wrong to clutch at the strands of fantasy that leaves one pining for more? Is it wrong to feel one’s soul crash at the end of a tale? I want to live like this forever. In a dream land. Surrounded by all the people I love. Doing the things I love. I want time to stand still. I want to tell to time “I’m happy now. Please, stay this way for a little while longer.”
Oh I don’t want to grow old and serious. I don’t want to talk about the weather and politics and be responsible. I want to be carefree like a bird that’s just spread it’s wings. I don’t want to feel the disappointment of failure or weep over the loss of a loved one. Ignorantly blissful, I want to live this way.
Smiling at small things, laughing at the lesser things in life. Enjoying the normal things I have with me. Yearning for the finer but never needing it. Ah!
He rode with red, he rode with light,
and behind his steed the sunlight blazed.
Over the shores that seemed empty,
and past the fields that seemed dead,
the stars above seemed to bleed,
with words that near him lay.
When nights had come and nights had been lost,
and the journey seemed to go on alone
Far away the birds seemed to sing,
as close to his ears the wind danced.
Yet when his eyes to them he’d turn,
Only the velvet blanket of night,
remained to envelope him in warm embrace.
After time fleeted, as it always has,
his steed fell to the ground and shook.
He watched with somber eyes as he
his knife from his sachet removed,
and slit the poor thing’s neck wide.
As the merry blood trickled onto the ground,
he lay beside his friend, in last communion.
Now no longer gallant he walked,
no higher than the common man.
And spent many a nights in numbed sleep,
where the visions of the morrow sought to trouble him.
The plagued man who sought to recapture,
the treasures that he’d thrown away.
Have you ever given up on something and been content about it until someone passed an offhand remark about it which reignited all those old emotions that you’d managed to bury?
A huge thing in a law students life is this activity called mooting. It’s a mock court session that isn’t really identical to a real court but is great for honing one’s writing skills and the like. You get a legal problem which tests your legal skills and you’re supposed to write down a memo detailing your arguments and present an oral presentation.
Unfortunately, the last time I tried, I failed terribly. My memo was great! I’ve never been bad at logically setting down things. It was my oral presentation that wrecked. As much as I’d like to attribute it to my fast paced speech and other extraneous factors. My biggest error was relying on a written speech and not memorizing (not word for word, but you get what I mean) my arguments. I knew that it was a bad move, but thanks to all the people who told me that “judges would recognize a first time mooter and wouldn’t mind the speech thingie that much” I felt my own inhibitions fade.
Anyway, the judges weren’t very pleased with my constant referral to a written script, which coincidentally had taken me hours to write. It was a splendid work of art. :P
But the judges weren’t aware of that. As far as they were concerned I was simply another fellow who hadn’t bothered to research enough to know the case facts by heart. Even though I had read every case I had cited and more. I just didn’t make it a point to memorize it all because I didn’t think it was needed.
Anyway that was a bad move which made me score very very very very low on the orals. I barely qualified for my university rounds.
Which I decided not to do. Given that my class rounds had been dismal. No one really chided me that much when I told them I wouldn’t do univs. My friends gave me the normal, “you won’y improve if you don’t try.” lecture rather half heartedly and then told me I could quit if I wanted so my weak self gave way and I did not participate in the univ rounds.
So imagine my surprise when the very same friend today (the last date for memo submission) told me that I’d just backed out because I was bad at it and was making reasons to avoid doing it because I didn’t want to improve – before getting up and walking away when I told her that I didn’t want to do it because I was bad at it and didn’t see the point. (Yes, I’d gotten pretty sad about it.)
I was okay with quitting but that one remark set off a chain reaction in me. Suddenly, I felt like my ego had been bruised. I couldn’t understand why someone who’d seemed so complacent about my giving up suddenly felt the need to tell me that I had given up because I was bad it and didn’t want to improve. I knew that already. She’d known it for quite a while. I’d just never had it told to my face.
Her advice however was a couple of weeks too late.
To me I think it was more about reasserting her academic position. See, law school is a place where your academic performance is REALLY important. Her doing the moot meant that she was ahead in terms of experience in comparison to me. I was taken aback by her sudden reassertion. I mean, couldn’t a riveting speech like that be given to me BEFORE I’d decided to call it quits? Why tell me that it was wrong to quit after I’d already quit. Especially when she could’ve told me that BEFORE the moot so that I could’ve actually acted on it.
It still feels pretty hurtful. I don’t know if the entire blog makes sense. I know it’s sort of like a personal account, but I did make this blog to communicate with the few lurkers in the internet so that I get some solace.
Anyway, I plan to do the univs next year. Hopefully it will go well.
Little bird hopped off the branch,
and fell down down down.
The grass was dry and crinkly too,
as it’s wings were crushed.
It stared up at the nest,
that suddenly seemed so far.
And squawked out pitifully raising it’s little head up.
A human came along and saw,
a chance to add another star.
She picked up the little bird,
and watched as it stared behind.
The little nest growing out of sight,
it’s mother’s anguished wails lost.
A day went by, another week,
the bird lay weak on it’s side.
The human laughed and fed it nuts,
poured water down it’s parched throat.
Soon it sat upright again,
but it’s wings were bent and useless then.
The human who found the bird,
lay it down on a branch.
The little bird that could not fly,
stared as the figure walked away.