I am back on my own blogspot, with a new resolve to share my thoughts with the world. I hope this would be a game changer for me, would help me express myself to all, making new friends.
But most of all, i intend this new endeavour to help me create a new paradigm in discussion about social issues among the new Indian youth.
This is to the new beginning (Always sounds so motivating).
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Monday, December 11, 2006
How i long to speak to her ...
Somewhere in south india, i got a call from someone ;)
It was a surprise and suddenly it brought out this poem....
how i long to speak....
When i heard her voice,
i felt a pang of joy.
her call was a surprise,
nodes, so calm so coy.
I went on a long ride,
with her by my side,
talking about nothing,
and yet everything.
even across the distance,
her face smiled before me,
i felt, just this instance,
she could come before me.
How i long to speak,
open a long kept secret,
of each time i fell weak,
just hiding in love's sillhouette.
love for me is an entity,
I feel it, and yet am numb,
is it vogue or vanity,
i ponder like i am dumb.
i want to talk to her,
of all the moments spent,
refresh memories of that blur,
looking in her eyes that went.
And yet i wonder,
is it love or lust,
and many times ponder,
should i tell her first.
she spoke of marriage,
and years of marriage,
and choice of marriage,
and chances of marriage.
My heart sunk beneath my years,
losing her i feared,
i took a sip of my silent tears,
losing someone i deared.
How i long to speak,
make her wait some time,
but the future in which i peek,
has nothing but an empty chime.
sharmaG
It was a surprise and suddenly it brought out this poem....
how i long to speak....
When i heard her voice,
i felt a pang of joy.
her call was a surprise,
nodes, so calm so coy.
I went on a long ride,
with her by my side,
talking about nothing,
and yet everything.
even across the distance,
her face smiled before me,
i felt, just this instance,
she could come before me.
How i long to speak,
open a long kept secret,
of each time i fell weak,
just hiding in love's sillhouette.
love for me is an entity,
I feel it, and yet am numb,
is it vogue or vanity,
i ponder like i am dumb.
i want to talk to her,
of all the moments spent,
refresh memories of that blur,
looking in her eyes that went.
And yet i wonder,
is it love or lust,
and many times ponder,
should i tell her first.
she spoke of marriage,
and years of marriage,
and choice of marriage,
and chances of marriage.
My heart sunk beneath my years,
losing her i feared,
i took a sip of my silent tears,
losing someone i deared.
How i long to speak,
make her wait some time,
but the future in which i peek,
has nothing but an empty chime.
sharmaG
SPLE and HRM Class Participation
This is dedicated to Dr. Rahul Varman and Dr. Manali Chakraborthy, for their glad acceptance of this not so academic act as a part of class participation, though i personally sent it at a time when this would not affect my grades ;)
IMPORTANT - ALL THESE POEMS WERE WRITTEN IN THE CLASS :)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note- this poem was written when on having raised my hand in the class i was not given a chance to speak. It felt very awkward especially when others around me were being allowed to ask questions.
I have also raised my hand,
with an answer in my mind,
let me put up my stand,
give me a chance, be kind.
I came so eager, so full,
with ideas and objectives,
and then there came a lull,
couldn't put up my perspectives.
So here i am rejected,
writing a poem with time on hand,
feeling all dejected,
been put down so bland.
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - In the class once I asked a very stupid question about chaplin and honesty. Varman sir got real angry and i was rebuked verbally, though mildly but my confidence got jerked...(shaky me)
PUT DOWN
there was silence,
all eyes on me,
this was one instance,
where i couldn't flee.
had asked a question stupid,
only to be put down,
face smiled like cupid,
heart had a frown
Much of education is bland,
use it or abuse it,
human nature so dank,
where many an ambition is slit.
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - though i had been rebuked, i still thought i had to fight on, so to motivate myself this poem resulted--
I won't stop
but i won't stop,
will go on,
move on till the end,
life depends on many other things,
and many points of views.
I have mine,
will stick to it,
do as you wish,
the choice is thine,
you belong to a set so swish.
my ideas, will flow,
and never will slow,
and i will go on,
walk on,
though forlorn,
will go on....
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - I thought that education was actually about instilling ideas of others on us, and this poem resulted from one such fight which i was having with myself in the class
Sweet surrender
education is bland,
though based on demand,
formulating theories big,
mind of wealth we dig.
need a job,
got a snob,
parents told me,
to study feel free.
so, sweetly did i surrender,
to teachers and their blender,
mind of clay,
thoughts to slay,
will it help to lead a life,
somewhat , but not through this strife,
happy thoughfeeling bad,
education for you i am sad.
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - This poem was written in the first class taken by manali ma'am. Her class was very interesting from a poetic angle. Varman sir always uses sharp words with little poetic usage, but as it so happened i got a lot of words to play with on the presentation
Imagine Man in a woman -- an amazing pun on sex, or on birht - Wo(MAN)
The lands belonged to all gods -- beautiful line
a memorable class and poem for me --
blank!!
the start was smart,
class talked too fast,
of all kings and tarts,
in the economic past.
the pace was of a snail,
the man in the woman,
morals in a principled jail,
far away from heaven.
lord and dames and damsels,
enron, worldcomm and reliance,
a platter filled with pretzels,
choking mind's entrance.
emergence of a new class,
neighbour's, labors and sabers,
yet i couldn't see them alas,
walking in the valley of maples.
when markets did not exist,
and gods had all the land,
yet questions did persist,
a picture dull and bland...
sharmaG
IMPORTANT - ALL THESE POEMS WERE WRITTEN IN THE CLASS :)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note- this poem was written when on having raised my hand in the class i was not given a chance to speak. It felt very awkward especially when others around me were being allowed to ask questions.
I have also raised my hand,
with an answer in my mind,
let me put up my stand,
give me a chance, be kind.
I came so eager, so full,
with ideas and objectives,
and then there came a lull,
couldn't put up my perspectives.
So here i am rejected,
writing a poem with time on hand,
feeling all dejected,
been put down so bland.
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - In the class once I asked a very stupid question about chaplin and honesty. Varman sir got real angry and i was rebuked verbally, though mildly but my confidence got jerked...(shaky me)
PUT DOWN
there was silence,
all eyes on me,
this was one instance,
where i couldn't flee.
had asked a question stupid,
only to be put down,
face smiled like cupid,
heart had a frown
Much of education is bland,
use it or abuse it,
human nature so dank,
where many an ambition is slit.
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - though i had been rebuked, i still thought i had to fight on, so to motivate myself this poem resulted--
I won't stop
but i won't stop,
will go on,
move on till the end,
life depends on many other things,
and many points of views.
I have mine,
will stick to it,
do as you wish,
the choice is thine,
you belong to a set so swish.
my ideas, will flow,
and never will slow,
and i will go on,
walk on,
though forlorn,
will go on....
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - I thought that education was actually about instilling ideas of others on us, and this poem resulted from one such fight which i was having with myself in the class
Sweet surrender
education is bland,
though based on demand,
formulating theories big,
mind of wealth we dig.
need a job,
got a snob,
parents told me,
to study feel free.
so, sweetly did i surrender,
to teachers and their blender,
mind of clay,
thoughts to slay,
will it help to lead a life,
somewhat , but not through this strife,
happy thoughfeeling bad,
education for you i am sad.
sharmaG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note - This poem was written in the first class taken by manali ma'am. Her class was very interesting from a poetic angle. Varman sir always uses sharp words with little poetic usage, but as it so happened i got a lot of words to play with on the presentation
Imagine Man in a woman -- an amazing pun on sex, or on birht - Wo(MAN)
The lands belonged to all gods -- beautiful line
a memorable class and poem for me --
blank!!
the start was smart,
class talked too fast,
of all kings and tarts,
in the economic past.
the pace was of a snail,
the man in the woman,
morals in a principled jail,
far away from heaven.
lord and dames and damsels,
enron, worldcomm and reliance,
a platter filled with pretzels,
choking mind's entrance.
emergence of a new class,
neighbour's, labors and sabers,
yet i couldn't see them alas,
walking in the valley of maples.
when markets did not exist,
and gods had all the land,
yet questions did persist,
a picture dull and bland...
sharmaG
Hallowed be thy thoughts
The journeyman moves on in me. From one state of mind and body, to another. On the crests and troughs of time, moving slowly yet forever. Feeling good on some ocassions and on some occasions bad. Comfort is but in the daily numb. Just do not stop and think about the things going on. Life will pass, milleniums will look like seconds, eternity just another blink.
Thoughts have the power to empower. Make you the king or the pauper. They may take you places and spaces. Hallowed be thy thoughts, for they are you, for you are forever in them. Running, laughing, walking, loving and sleeping.
just keep thinking....
Thoughts have the power to empower. Make you the king or the pauper. They may take you places and spaces. Hallowed be thy thoughts, for they are you, for you are forever in them. Running, laughing, walking, loving and sleeping.
just keep thinking....
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