twitter breakup…

no no no.. this post is not about someone breaking up over twitter.. as much ridiculous (and funny for a 3^rd person) as it would be.. it would go like this, i presume..

you have got a personal message

‘needed to tweet… breaking up.. now… with you.. it’s not you, it’s me..(blah blah) gtg.. see u around..’

‘moron’ is not following you anymore, on twitter…

i am not a heavy tweeter.. and hence i cannot speak in first person here.. but not to worry, i have the liberty of identity spoofing and take the privilege..

this post is about someone who has twittered a lot n lot n lot… n one day suddenly realizes that, he/she is tweeting first and then doing the things.. self-privacy and private space have been killed and buried.. and then the time comes to let go of twitter..

from, ‘all that twitters is gold’, to ‘all that twitters is not gold’..

here goes my ridiculous piece of breakup words, between he/she and twitter.. if twitter could talk back, that would be in (italic parentheses)..

‘twitter.. we need to tweet.. this is john/jane doe.. i have given it a great deal of words.. i have tried the web, gadget, phone.. i don’t think it’s working out between us.. i think we need to end this..

listen, i know this must be so hard for you.. you are great.. you are smart, chirpy, fast, broadcasting, accessible, far-reaching, outspreading, like a pile of n all those..

but it’s not the same twittering feeling.. before you met me, i never thought i would be in any relationship with social networking.. maybe i was naïve.. and then you happened.. so different from orkut, facebook and myspace.. i could sense the attraction.. you were there in everything i did.. i got up, u knew.. i brushed my teeth.. u knew (and millions of other people).. i tripped and broke my nose.. u knew.. it was like, nothing could go wrong.. the web seemed an alright place..

we had some really great times.. remember when my boss was firing me, i was tweeting real-time… not to mention the reason for my expulsion, being the PII data being twittered..

and the time when my SSN came, and i told you, only to be ripped off a few grands due to an identity theft.. you have some really keen quick-acting criminal and dacoit followers too..

and the time when i was held as a witness in a safe house.. one tweet and never mind…

and all those times, when no one wanted to know, what i was doing.. yet you were there for me, to ensure i pissed off everyone by still tweeting about the things i did..

you have been through all those great rough times.. which wouldn’t have happened without you..

but now, things are different.. i don’t feel it anymore.. i tried the web but i get stuck.. i tried the gadgets.. but they are turning sophisticated.. i tried texting… but it Seems Mostly Sad..

initially you used to be frustrated at seeing me.. now you are frustrated and disgusted too.. not to mention, that you take me for granted that i’ll tweet everything.... and what’s more, random people follow me on you, and send me personalized hate-tweets.. hence it’s time.. i cannot believe that we are actually breaking up.. i always thought these things happened to other people.. but every dog has.. never mind.. it’s over..

and what do they say.. yeah.. we can still be friends.. i will tweet the occasional ridiculous thing i’ll do.. hang on, that’s what i used to do.. so i don’t know what to tweet.. i guess, i'll just get back to my life, after all..’

anyways, at least i’ll have an illusion now that i have seen life, and seen both sides of it.. and there’s the grandeur feeling of a philosophical guru on such issues, henceforth.. and the fact that my second relationship will be an even more foolish one, based on the premise that i’ll be wiser at future relationships..

and please remember one thing, the george line… it’s not you, it’s me! it’s always me!

to which twitter said,

'(never mind that i heard, blah blah.. but i am sorry, who are you again? do i know you?

best wishes, gth. - twitter)’

there’s never a better breakup.. it’s always a bitter breakup.. but don’t worry.. this is just a twitter breakup… for the fun and forgetfulness of a post.... not kidding!

sunlight

smooth, smooth, beeping.. alarm’s sight,

i snooze it at the left, and decide to, really?

the comforter wields away, morning early;

right glass window, face on, hits the sunlight.

dripping sweat, aching spasms, wiping brows;

deep breaths, i walk exhaling, to the patios;

as the towel rests on the neck, a hand glass;

blinding array, full on, hits me the sunlight.

shower, so n so, swiveling the keys, whistling

locking door, of the day ahead, not thinking;

i hustle down the stairs, fresh n lazy, to exit;

first touch of grass, the sky hits me the sunlight..

on ‘ends, when the cooker steams out, done!

to the drawer takes leave, worded chef gown;

i set the kitchen straight, heading away from it

turning, from the window, hits me the sunlight.

the quiet office sills, show the abundant light;

floating outside all the time, till there’s no light;

long or short the day, early or delayed the night;

when i walk out, i blink and look up! it’s the sunlight!

you name it

when there are no strings attached,

and the whole intention looks so weird;

the society makes you see it that way;

and you don’t keep the thoughts away..

so when the waves come and go ashore,

look at the good memories they bore;

and the whole smile is so absent n pure;

what do you make of such affection lure.

when you know that there’s only one;

who brings that, brought so innocently;

you feel the need to name it so much,

yet you stand there, saying nothing much!

play it again and again, again all the time,

yeah, it seems like time can’t fold those,

pieces into a recap of flashes, not sublime;

guess there’s nothing like the time that goes.

and when you try to place this as one of those,

but it doesn’t fit in for any of the pre-conceived;

even if you hope it falls into one of those lastly,

till it does, you keep the wheels.. maybe it won’t!

all of this anyways vanishes, a blink long, all seems

ticking away it wins, tickling and longing it seems;

and when the time comes to turn and see the road;

why is it the way it is? i know it, now, you name it!

couple of ambigrams

here are a couple of ambigrams, i am interested in...

and my name..

the royal flush

the ten commandments of exodus, paths;

not meant; ludvig’s sonatas of the violins;

the power of your hands, limbs; the base;

cyclic, our limitation, lowest of the hands.

jack of all trades, heroism thy name thee;

pyramid square, the two bars, a fall sour;

a goddamn good world ,not in a melee;

but for Murphy and the eleventh hour.

the queen of the moon, not yet explained;

the annual count, and search for the signs;

sworn to the king, yet so close to the jack;

center of the elite, yet what lines to cross!

talent, thy name is the king, all yield to you;

two sides, a number! oops! they didn’t see;

ruler of the pack, size of life, natural vanity;

herald of the times, who is to beat thee?

the improbable, upset and the charisma;

the twist, stalwart and the unanswerable;

the crown of low to high, vane to humble;

genesis to end, cycle and circle of the ace.

when all good aligns, in the same hands;

grandeur, the power corrupts the hands;

yet say the other club, diamond, spade;

even with a royal flush, follow the heart!

exam flames

always wanted to imagine and write about this scene. the reactions of various people in the exam room, on the first glance of an examination question paper.

in my other bizzaro (a.k.a. perfect) world, these lines happen. but in our this world, people constrain themselves.

I wrote some lines in my bizzaro world, on how people constrain themselves here. hence some lines here, on how people let go there.

he smiled, he shot through all Qs,

she beamed, child’s play were Qs;

that’s an insane pair, in the room,

sane rest of them, why? read on!

as he banged his head on the desk,

bloody Qs, literally turning into on;

she let her cat, claw the whole paper

shredder-precision, piece of wrapper.

as he got up and left on first glance

tossing a 3 pointer of the Qs, the bin;

she set the paper on fire, in flames;

and more, she stamped on the ashes!

he attached it to the grenade pin, tact!

and flinged it on someone's head, aim!

she went crazy looking at the Qs, bad!

monkey danced and collapsed, score!

as he rocketed the Qs out of the window

followed suit, jumped out of the window;

she blew a hole in the paper, smoking!

blasted the paper, desk and the footing.

as he yelled as loudly as he could, blast!

the Qs burst to pieces, ‘n 2 vocal cords;

she brought her bulldog to pee on the Qs

‘n lent it, to chew the papers, whole row.

he got up, ran and hit the walls blindly,

round and round, knocked every wall;

she made rabbits out of them, joined,

and tried to choke the fellow ahead!

he simply tore the Qs, a letter per piece,

made a dust ball, ‘n sling-ed it, eye patch;

she scratched the hell out of the paper;

merely by the click pen, deep impact.

he passed out, she ran out screaming,

he sweared bad; she, a girl scorn look;

in another world, they constrained all,

and the pair finished and left the hall!

cute noun to waltz

the arch light hits you, on the dais
a face lit you, shuns all the claps;
it fades, thoughts of perspiration,
a trickle you feel, of recognition.

you glide and slide, high n joyous,
the wild wild steps, able elegance;
doubting carefree, yet the agility,
for all the steps, wins the humility.

the chirping star, the tranquil kid,
the grace and song, dancing on;
amidst thick n thin, your moves
on and on, gives an effervescence.

the curtains fall, for the ovation dies,
oblivious you waltz on, closed eyes;
I stand on the corner, leaned walls;
ballerina you, linguist me, potential.

thoughts, the rhythm keeps humming,
the whistles, silent as they used to be;
smiles, humor, tranquility, nothingness, smiles;
in the quiet minds, there's always a cute noun to waltz.

damn me

there are various types of people you come across in life, you being one of them for someone else. here is a fictitious first person tone, of one such type of person.. 

any resemblance to real people and qualities (or lack of, whatever you want to call) is purely intentional.

you want to label me disgusting, 

i act disgusting, you have the say;

you hate my selfishness, i cling

your hatred wins, it’s there to see.

i am quietly getting crushed, shh

that’s what i like, and you seem to;

i have no say, no credibility, hush;

no value, no place; just as a joke.

i am helpless, and you’ll stomp then

corrupt scruples, gray morals, false;

kidding me, for you are more serious;

mocking me, i am just a dufus  then.

layers of falsity, pretence, why why,

why do i want to do those things;

no guts, no spine, no vile for these;

i ask myself, why am i? why why why.

placeholder friend, no right to rights;

nothing good, irritating actions of mine

none so guts, and only frustrating guts

fell an evil uncomfortable shield of mine.

soaring hatred, pathetic importance;

i have thought these of other people;

for once when they show up and act 

as one i have thought them of, it’s easy;

for the social code to label them as above..

i feel i have a valid reason to label them.. what a pity!

shining

silently i sat, calm blinking eyes

bench on grass, hands on knees;

front of me  she saw the stream,

she played and played, with glee.

morning left, and she left the stream

she came back on, in glow of the eve;

‘n played along and left with a beam

thought i wasn’t there, this could be.

lonely she felt cold, she felt the mirth, 

i shifted not, and so blinked the same;

were the eyes moist, can’t tell the same

frigid, subtle and sometimes the mirth.

as crickets talked, she left and came

glistening stream in the night of light;

she stood her ground, right and wrong

indifference and fear, a pensive start.

not worth a notice was me, this could be

I blinked and sat, as i sat and blinked;

she wondered why i just sit there quiet;

but thought not ask, for why should she.

it went on, till stream was stream

i blinked, not asking,  not telling one;

she leaned on me, and this could be

quiet i sat with her, calm blinking eyes.

yet all the same, she was listening to me..

i tumble

you know it’s not right, my mind;

disobedient, a wayward part of it;

not curbed, all the time on its own;

hell would be sweet, if it lashed out.

thoughts it cannons, dare it musters;

can’t dream of it, mind of fire it has;

no strings, no lip seals, there is evil;

and the vanity, self and the side wild.

you know it’s not right, my mind;

i look around, and all seems fake;

it rips the cover, and sees through;

i am disoriented, think it’s the mind.

why is something missing, is it me;

why do i focus staring at the ceiling;

twitchy as army of horses and men;

i keep touching the roof of hot tin.

something changed, my head hides it;

i am tumbling, and tumbling upward;

my glass thoughts, keep me looking;

you know it’s not right, my mind.