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August 24, 2009

Posted by K in Nonsense.

Once upon a time
There was an atom
Until it exploded
And was no more.

July 1, 2008

Posted by K in Nonsense.

Everyday, on her way to college, she heard him talk.

Through the hole in the wall she heard him. A disembodied voice, talking about the weather, an advertisement in the local paper, last evening’s dance recital…

She would pause by the wall and lose herself in the melody of his voice. It wasn’t a musical voice, neither was it a stage voice; it was just a voice that immediately went to one’s heart. It held the quality of suggestion, and in it she caught glimpses of herself. It was these daily sessions that transported her to a plane of existence she had been hitherto unaware of, and was now addicted to.

For some reason, he was her secret. She did not share the story of the magical voice with her friends or family. She half thought she would be forbidden to walk that route again, if the elders at home realised she was falling in love with an idea.

It went on like this for a year. The listener and the speaker, one unaware of the other, communicating as only stranger friends can do. Sometimes she wondered why she did not step around the corner and show herself. Other times she would be horrified at herself for even thinking of such a thing.

The listening sessions had drawn for her a picture of him, in her mind. Every word would be a like a piece of a puzzle as tangible as a wisp of smoke. She thought she had the last few pieces in place, when suddenly, one day, he wasn’t there anymore.

She tried to hold her anxiety, but when he failed to appear for the next two days, she did finally step around the wall. Where did he go, she asked the first person she ran into. The man who sat here, day after day.

Oh him, came the grunt. He’s gone.

And she could get nothing more out of the man. She tried speaking to the fruit seller, the flower seller, but they were all reluctant to talk to her. Feeling sick with disappointment, she turned to go.

Psst. Over here. Came a hissed voice. You want to know about the man, I can tell you. Come with me.

She followed the child’s voice to a narrow alleyway, where she was guided to a makeshift home.

You want to know about him. I know you. You would listen to him talk everyday. I listened too, to you and him. He knew you were here as well; your shadow used to fall around the corner. He made it a point to find newer and newer things to talk about.

She didn’t know what to say.

He knew I listened? Who is he? What does he do? Where is he now?

The child laughed. Ofcourse he knew you. He knew many things.

Why did he never ask me to stop listening?

The child laughed again. You mean why did he never talk to you. For the same reason that you never spoke to him, ofcourse.

What do you mean?

He’s got leprosy, has he not? He’s a leper. You were disgusted by him too, were you not?

Now it was her turn to laugh.

I’m blind, you silly child. I cannot see.

She went home that day, curiously happy.

Ramblings of an Unscholarly Mind… April 24, 2008

Posted by K in Diary, Extreme Nostalgia, Friends, Funny, Life, Lyrics, Maiden, Nonsense.
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To counter my absolute blankness when faced with the books I am supposed to answer 75 marks worth questions on, I opened my notebooks. I had a total of four notebooks this year (no, make that five…I think) to take, well, notes, and I had picked them all with tender loving care. My favourite one was the one with the champagne glass on the cover. It’s appeal is obvious 😉 Then there was the breathtaking art on the red one, which I reserved for one of my ex-favourite teachers. The one with the abandonment and music on the cover was rather nice as well, but the point I am trying to make, is that these beauteous notebooks…contain no classnotes.

I flip page after page, and find graffiti, doodles, graffiti, maiden, graffiti and…you get the picture. So I thought I would dedicate this post to my class time activities. Let me reproduce here the things that held my attention, while the rest of the class was (presumably) engaged in scholarly pursuit.

  • 29/02/08 (I have a habit of obsessively dating my ‘notes’) : In parentheses- Chucked out of previous two classes for not reading text *grin*

This would be the Conrad class, where for about 3-4 four classes the teacher taught 5 out of some 40 students, because the rest hadn’t read Heart of Darkness, teehee.

  • 15/02/08 (This is in Pallavi’s handwriting; we were mocking something, but I forgot what…) ‘Every woman needs her daily male’
  • 22/01/08 sees the pictoral, stick figure representation of The Life of A. Parthosarathy, and involves an attempt of said gentleman to understand his solitude…’cept there’s a power-cut and he forgets the question. I shall try and post a pic of it sometime.
  • 24/01/08: Pictoral depiction of two clouds trying to eat each other.
  • 18/01/08: ‘Fresh, crust, roast, crisp, crunch’. An enumeration of my favourite food sounds (I think I was hungry,lol)
  • 03/03/08: ‘We sail away… On ships of wonder’ Beautiful lyrics from Rainbow. Catch the Rainbow, I think. Minor case of ear worming, I think.
  • 29/01/08: A stylized ‘REAPERS REPOSE’. Two Eddies on the page, and the inevitable SCREAM FOR ME MUMBAI!!! Iron Maiden Somewhere Back in Time.
  • 17/01/08: “Give me freedom, or kill me!”
  • 20/09/07: In a Swift class, discussing the living dead, the Struldbrugs in Gulliver’s Travels – ‘Dead-in-Law’ Har har har.
  • 4/12/07: I was apparently in a ‘familial’ mood. Figures drawn of Eddie’s Mother, and Harlequin’s brother.
  • 17/01/ 08: scribbled along the margin top of the page- ‘sleepy sleepy sleepy Gray sleepy sleepy sleepy’. This was during a lecture on Thomas Gray, delivered by a teacher who is quite good, but unfortunately, possesses quite a soporific drone 🙂
  • 4/12/07(etched in blood, it says): (Hertfordshire) doesn’t get Maiden… Mumbai does. *GRIN* MODERN MAN fell asleep. Eddie woke him up and said “Will you scream for Bangalore? I am trying to shift the MAIDEN…INDIA…2008 venue.”
  • 17/10/07: Rama Rama Melodrama Sniff sniff sneeze Fly with the breeze Eat your pen Inhale.
  • 30/10/07: In a DH Lawrence Sons and Lovers class- ‘Mother did actually want to be a man’. ‘ Miriam…books did not matter to her’. (In my defense: I was busy admiring graffiti on desks in all DH Lawrence classes)
  • 29/08/07– Lots of Maiden… ‘Transcendental Eddie’.……’IRON MAIDEN OWNS YOUR SOUL (YOU JUST DON’T KNOW IT YET 😉 ) …………..Air Harris!……………FREEZE YOUR SOUL AND MAYBE EDDIE WON’T EAT YOU HAIR \m/

And so on, and so forth 🙂 I think I shall put up a post with all the graffiti I copied from desks…they deserve to be read 😀 What creativity people show, I tell you! 😀

January 27, 2008

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Nonsense.
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Blasting down the roadway to hellanheaven do you pause to stay? Believe my pretty flower river rushed the bushels spring for you. The moon beam rises inconstance be the watch word. Leave a tree to mark me. See you fall by the way. Straaay hay. The low quantity of work that rises in your bilious throat. Leave leave to be. Forever materialistic.

Work moves at a pace of a tortoise-impersonating-a-horse race.

January 24, 2008

Posted by K in Nonsense.
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Bang. grandiose

Beats on the droll-

ness of the tympanic

member stretched silver

bet-ween waves of music

Marching stomping flirting

Twisting smirking playing

Hide and seek with me r-

unning away.stopping

To see if I follow

Not that it ma

tters its all

in contin


December 29, 2007

Posted by K in Nonsense.

There was a rumble in the sky and all the children ran out to see where it came from. Boys and girls, all in tattered remains of clothing, some chewing sugarcane, some chewing hair.

The rumble grew louder and a shadow began spreading over the sky. The boy with the bald head spat out his bit of sugarcane, and watched. The girl chewing on dry, brown hair grabbed the plant next to her and watched. They all watched, goggled eyed, mouths slowly opening out. Little statues, as the shadow became opaque.

The youngest among them, a little boy who liked to think he was a girl, squeaked out “Ma…!” But I don’t think his mother heard him.

I don’t think anyone above the age of 16 heard him or the rumble. Boom boom boom. Sonic filters that filtered out the able bodied populace of the tiny little village in the middle of nowhere.

Suddenly a rich black cloth descended towards earth. The children watched, transfixed, as it enveloped them all, and began to ooze blackness…into their eyes, into their thoughts, until they no longer remembered anything.

The rumble grew louder, the sky grew lighter, until, all of a sudden, the light burst through.

When the parents, grandparents, siblings came back in the evening, all they saw were strands of spit-covered hair, and chewed up bits of sugarcane.

Mothers clutched at their hair and screamed out their names. Fathers rode out to the forests. Brothers and sisters picked up toys, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

As for the opaque sky…it had gone forever.

December 1, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Diary, Life, Maiden, Music, Nonsense, Reviews/Rants.

The exams are yet again upon me. I, yet again, am grossly under-prepared. Actually, as of now, my condition is better described as ‘not prepared’. The grotesque thing is that I couldn’t care less. Moving on…

India refuses to trade arms with Burma. Finally, and yippitty yay! Now he can say “Congratulations India”. ‘He’ being a member of the Burmese Government in exile.

Life in Metro-movie that tries too hard. Unsuccessfully.

The fests are upon us. And we are upon exams. Need I rant more?

Lauren Harris is supporting daddy’s band again. Steve-really.

One goes to watch Aaja Nachle tomorrow. One hopes one has not done foolish thing.

One wishes life would wipe up after itself. One takes one look at a definition of life and gives it up as a hopeless case.

One…… has writers block.

More Nonsense Poetry September 15, 2007

Posted by K in Copyright Infringemnt, Lyrics, Music, Nonsense, Poem.

My love affair with nonsense poetry continues. Sample these gems from The Nation’s Favourite Comic Poems


Gelett Burgess wrote the Purple Cow


I never saw a Purple Cow,

I never hope to see one;

But I can tell you, anyhow,

I’d rather see than be one.


Some years later he wrote again:


Ah yes! I wrote the ‘Purple Cow’-

I’m sorry, now, I Wrote it!

But I can Tell you, Anyhow,

I’ll Kill you if you Quote it!


This one from Hilaire Belloc-


Lord Finchley

Lord Finchley tried to mend the Electric Light

Himself. It struck him dead: And serve him right!

It is the business of the wealthy man

To give employment to the artisan.


By John Hegley-


In the Arms of my Glasses

they can call me softy

as ofty

as they please

but still I’ll stand by these

my little optical accessories

as they stop me walking into lamposts

and trees

when it’s foggy

and I’m out walking with my doggie



This is my favourite-


Spring in the Bronx


Spring is sprung,

Duh grass is riz

I wonder where dem boidies is.

Duh little boids is on duh wing-

But dat’s absoid:

Duh little wing is on duh boid.

August 25, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Diary, Nonsense, Poem.
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Rag tag


Sitting on a tuft of grass






(Of coffee liquor)

Baby bunching

phantom sticker


Pale wisps of pink

Floating by

Brazen dreams

bidding goodbye?


An addict


Moo! :) July 19, 2007

Posted by K in Nonsense.
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I ate an ice-cream called Moo today :D:D It is rather fascinating, I must say…