A cold winter morning, a sky full of fog,
An empty street, a couple there, and me,
I walked my path, it led nowhere,
And somehow we ended up in the same café.
I looked at her, her deep blue eyes,
They had so much to say,
I looked at the boy who sat with her,
His eyes, empty, like a novel burnt to ashes.

Since there wasn’t anyone else around,
And the coffee was taking only too long,
My eyes kept wandering back to them.
They both seemed indifferent about me;
And that was alright, but alas!
They seemed so indifferent about each other.
Their fingers intertwined, his hand in hers,
But never a look, nor a smile at each other.

Who were they? I wondered,
Waiting for my cup of coffee.
I could not imagine why they would want to be,
The way they were, together.
For I believed, love was spoken,
Not with words, but through the eyes,
But alas! Their eyes never met!

And suddenly those three words were said,
“I love you”, whispered the boy,
“As do I”, she said in return,
Yet still neither faced each other,
Though now they were all smiles.

The waiter arrived, a bit later,
With my steaming hot cup of cappuccino,
“Isn’t it weird?” I asked him,
“How could they not see each other,
And yet say those words all the same?”
The waiter looked deep at me,
Smiled and said,
“Sir, they both are blind.”

And that day I realized,
How true it is,
When they say that love is blind.

All a Lie

What if I told you,
This is all a lie,
That I am someone entirely different,
That I am not a man from here,
That I am from another world,
Where people don’t care about my looks,
Where animals smile when they see us,
Instead of getting afraid,
Where I live in harmony with myself,
My thoughts, my emotions.
Where people actually like me,
For what I am,
Not for what they would want me to be,
What if I told you,
That it is my dream,
To be transported,
To such a world.

An Unfulfilled Dream

He pricked a thorn to see if it were true,
All the while believing he was living a dream,
For what he saw was not of this world,
The world he knew had brutalities extreme.
People walked by, smiling at each other,
The pretty little girls with pretty blue eyes,
He was amazed to see how no prying eyes,
Scanned them from top to bottom.
On the other side, a lady stood,
A group of men beside her too,
He was amazed to see how neither cared,
And stayed as if the other didn’t exist.
In his world, things happened differently,
But he wished this world was his,
For he had dreamed for a while, for this to happen,
And how now he savored it.
When the mendicant outside cried for money,
People didn’t throw waste food at him,
When the eunuch smiled at the guy beside him,
He smiled back too, shaking hands for a second.
He was amazed how this world had changed,
And thanked God for a while for fulfilling his dreams,
Only then he realized the thorn wasn’t pricking him,
And woke up dismayed, back into this world.

Ad Infinitum – 2

They thought it would be easy,
To make up bedtime stories,
Follow them passionately with all their hearts,
Turning them into harsh reality.
But when the river turned over,
And flooded the country,
Whilst they died, every single one of them,
Who made their wooden piers, oh, none did,
Who dug the ground, oh, none did.
God turned up and showed them,
How futile man’s attempts were,
To appease Him, to placate His soul,
And though we may think he is the Creator,
Deep in our hearts, who doesn’t accept,
That He is the sole Destructor?
For those that create the air which we breathe,
Are those that we kill, are those that we kill,
And when our breaths draw to a close,
Who do we blame, other than Him?
We must stop right here, think for a while,
Remove the misconstruing of the world that we have,
Or the end is inevitable, and the cycle of destruction,
Would continue,
Ad infinitum.

Ad Infinitum – 1

They said living in this world was fun,
Making friends was easy,
And that once you had someone,
You would end up being together,
Ad infinitum.
Lies, all of them,
We live in a world, no, we just spend,
Our breaths, wasted upon everyone else,
Cynics, and half-hearted lovers,
Fill every nook and corner, every alley.
They said, think positive,
But I get only negative vibes out here,
Prying eyes, privacy dead,
They call it socializing, gregarious them,
But end up publicizing, what they shouldn’t,
Fell trees for wood, burn wood for the dead,
Kill both man, and tree, at the same time.
No one’s gonna stop them,
They are rites and rituals, must be performed,
Lest the soul stay wretched,
Ad infinitum.
Not realizing, that wretched souls,
Remain wretched,
That they are not within the dead,
But within those living,
Those among us.
Prayers won’t work one day,
Churches and temples and mosques,
They won’t save you,
Just as they don’t save the dead.

She Didn’t Fly

I put her out of the cage, on my table,
Kept a few grains in front of her,
Hoping she’d eat them,
Or at least fly away,
She didn’t fly.

I thought she’d cherish her freedom,
Dance around for a while,
Then fly into the sky,
Be forever free,
She didn’t fly.

It seemed to me she loved the cage,
Maybe she just loved me,
The cage, her world,
Who’d she fly to?
She didn’t fly.

I learnt that sometimes we nurture,
Thoughts of freedom alike,
But given the chance,
Still hold back and,
Do not fly.


Don’t some words suddenly rake up old memories? They are the books at the bottom of the shelf, all dusty and full of spiders, and then you need to take it out carefully. The pages are very old, some almost crisp enough to break in two, the binding loose from the middle, the pages more yellow than white, and sometimes you may find a stain of the bottom of a cup kept on the book sometime long ago, things you don’t remember, but you’ll just assume that it happened. But taking it out from the shelf, that must be done carefully, or else, all the other books would tumble down, the old ones will tear off probably, and it would take time to resettle them back onto the shelf again.

Once you have the book, you would probably just look at it. You won’t read it, you know, because of many reasons, one of them being you’ve already read it before, the more important one being you don’t want a plethora of memories to rush in your mind which you know would definitely happen once you open the book. I call this thing abstraction. By definition, abstraction refers to the act where you hide the important details of anything and show only the important parts of it. It is in essence the very value on which our entire life places it base upon. We work on the principle of abstraction. And Computer Science students at school, if you are studying OOP or Java, this might turn out to be an interesting post for you. So let us start from a very basic example. This is going to be the one hundred and seventieth post on this blog. A very big number by my standard. 170. Yes. But pray tell me, how many of you can claim to know me by more than what you’ve read? Abstraction. You comment on my posts, and on other people’s posts, yet most of the times we never talk about ourselves, do we? We sit for an interview, and love to speak of our achievements and victories, and what laurels we’ve brought home, yet seldom we point out our weaknesses. We learn programming languages, and master the art of programming, and algorithms and all that, yet seldom we look into how the compiler or the interpreter works. This is getting too technical. No, that is not the point of this write-up. Let’s come down into something more human. Does your teacher care what the name of your uncle is? No. Abstraction. Does your driver care if you fail an exam? No. That’s abstraction. Filtering out. People keep filtering out all the time. They filter talk, they filter friends, they filter the company that they keep. And then, if we come to see it properly, wouldn’t life be impossible without abstraction?

Yes, it would be. Give it a thought again. Knowing everyone around you, being polite and courteous to them, and knowing everyone’s name. Wouldn’t that be a horror? How many of you watch Game of Thrones? I bet a lot many. Tell me, how many Walder Frey’s are there in the Frey family? And how many Brandon’s are there in the Starks? Lots right? Generalization. They aren’t important, don’t care about them, don’t burst your mind into remembering them. Martin teaches us abstraction that way. Bookish examples now, when you press the accelerator, the car speeds up, without you having to care about the internal workings. I am not going to talk about programs here, they bore me as much as they bore you, and you could probably find thousands of examples and text about it if you go on a technical site. My point here is to tell how it relates to life. And how we, in our everyday life, constantly use abstraction to make our lives simpler.

Do you have an Android phone? Oh, does it have a camera? Yes? Oh, how many megapixels? Has anyone ever asked you these questions in exactly the same order? Or have you ever asked them the same? Going from the more general question to the more specific one? Did you also ask whether the processor was Qualcomm and how many cores were there? Probably no, you cared only about the camera because you were secretly wishing to click a picture for your Facebook account if the camera was good. That, is abstraction. You get the idea, right? Basically what I want to drive home here is that you may be studying all this today and feel that this is a load of crap, that you would be better off writing programs than knowing what concepts OOP works on. But believe me, it is more than the computer. It is more than the language and the program and the application that you make. It is life. And to lead it, and to understand how you are leading it, is important. That is the key to happiness. Don’t go into the details. Just have an overlook of everything. Don’t ponder over everything you read. Don’t fret. Be happy. Use abstraction. Today. What the hell did you read just now?