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| Mumbai Meri Jaan... |
| Sunday, April 22, 2007 |
So, After a sequence of ill-feeling,sniffing around,conflicting notions coupled with generic urge for change, I couldn't resist but to migrate to Mumbai.
With a sigh of relief, solemn-silent promise to myself, a visible resurrection of my bruished career, I embarked for 150 km journey.
From the face and a few onenight stands with the city of opportunities, I knew it won't be particularly something that I can cherish.
Cramped traffics, overloaded trains, humid heat all made it a challenge for free soul like me to survive.
First day journey towards the office started at 6.30 am.And I know where East is,hence. Catching a train is only way I can reach to London from Rome. So i braved it.
Such an irony of this entity, the most harrowing of journeys is the most sought for and indispensable mode of movement.
For a first time onlooker, the crowd in a bogie will seem to be impossible to adjust even a straw of a broom but for those whose lives are controlled by it, know Mumbai local never reaches the saturation. You can keep adding more sugar in the water but never the water gonna spill out of the glass nor the sugar is going to sediment.
After, my well-pressed white shirt and well-polished black camel leather shoe went through real jaggernaut, I stepped out of the chamber which reminded me of Hitlers concentration camps.
I can now tell you about all kind of body and mouth odours.Worst was yet to come .I was going to have a taste of road traffic.
For 1.30 hours no rick driver was ready to drop me to a place hardly 1 .5 km away. Luckily got hold of one, the gentle soul rickshawwallah charged me 85 rs taking me through the labyrinth of traffic making my beautiful face swallow all kind of exhaust gases of all kind of vehilcles found in Mumbai.
Reached office and the jolt came right away when i scanned the office in one go after all the hassles that HRs are known to give for 3 hours. And believe me , she was trying to make me home all the while and I was almost dozing , courtesy a hectic alcohol packed night and tension of reaching office through almost impregnable Mumbai Traffic.
Much to my chagrin, I see no pretty girl, add woman no probs. Easiest part of the day long exercise was to catch the sparsely habitated Bus and reach somewhere near the Guest house.
Comparing these buses with the dreaded Infy Buses is a sin simply because of the sheer head counts the road ravisher transport.
While you can always eagerly and optimistically pray the beautiful girl will take the vacant adjacent seat, however never ever she sits, in Infy, you can safely assume no one going to occupy it out here.
And to me thats better than sitting with a smelling techno guy.
Gods always conspire against me and trap me with attractively packaged garbage, the truth remains that despite premonitions I always opened them with eagerness of a child. So, all my lisp was gone when I found it hard to differentiate the girls from women or better put by a colleague here, "There are no girl,no woman-Only non-male.:) No offence meant as usual, One of the things I have learnt from Infy.
The age is tormentous and there is very little I think apart from girls whenever I am free or otherwise. Let's find out some pretty lass from the call centres surroundimng my office .Because they carry an attitude of some kind of state of art personalities. I bet you get a look at their dress pattern and you will agree with me. it takes heart of rock courageous man to approach them. I am not one of them, I rejected the thought.
Time up.
Usually, getting back from office and sleeping immediately is a sign of average,low ambitioned, IT techno geek who just fights his way out for a solution in office. While refuting this self inflicted blame, I slept because I didnt know what better can I do.
Dheeraj
P.S: I couldnt find humor in the situation i am in so, sorry for readers who actually looked for my non-sense of humor.Labels: pensive |
posted by Dheeraj @ 9:36 PM   |
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| Bidding adieu |
| Monday, April 16, 2007 |
I loved your presence around me,
The fragrance still surrounds me
Now, I have to put everything behind me
Your love and hatred, both, fine with me
The reminiscence pulls back me
Do you too, mull over me?
I have changed, your courtesy, amor--
I can recall the zeal of your first dine with me
Now, I have to put everything behind me
Your love and hatred, both, fine with me
The mélange was exciting
Relationship taxing, the depart vexing
The memoirs, though, are ever lasting
I saw, your visage getting malign with me
Now, I have to put everything behind me
Your love and hatred, both, fine with me
Accepted, Measures of love may vary
So, here I go, to a distant territory
Prostrated with the expectation that you carry
Wish you all the conquests and glory
Perplexed, I bowed or you resigned with me??
Now, I have to put everything behind me
Your love and hatred, both, fine with me.
My last post @ Infy BB
DheerajLabels: pensive, Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 10:20 PM |
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| Is the specie around you? |
| Thursday, April 12, 2007 |
Preamble: The only purpose of the crap beneath is fultoo and faltoo entertainment and a few laudatory comments will be a welcome surprise .Most of the memorable things in life happen in a surprise.
Disclaimer:The protagonist-- the girl, is a utopian creature and any resemblance to a person, working or resigned,still sitting beside you or far from you, is purely an affirmation of my conviction that the species number is overwhelming.
Caution:Approach with caution to the girl to whom you may like to forward it.
Mock Incident:
"bye bye bye, Bus arrived. call me back in a minute." the voice homogenized with the loud hurling of the stagnant bus.
She hurriedly boarded the bus and scanned for a seat in the crowded bus. Finding none, tried opening the driver's cabin which she found locked from inside.
Driver helped her ,helped himself, by unlocking the door and letting her in.
The guy at the back whose legs were cramped in the small corridor between the 'last row' and the 'left lane-last seat' frowned in disgust.
These drivers!! the curse almost dropped from his mouth.
Girl was happy.No one else will board the bus and she will have a relaxed time with his newly bought cellphone.She kept talking all the while till she reached her desk in the office.
Usual shake of mouse and switching on of monitor, punching in the password.
Can you imagine, if the keyboards had eyes? Looking in trepidation those polished and yet extremely powerful, offensive and grown long nails coming down hard at it.
She punched in her password in benevolent movement as if she knew she would hurt the keyboard. From the map that her hands created on keyboard, it seemed it was a standardized, robust password.
Any idea what kind of passwords people keep??
Anything from idiotic *****('iloveyou') to ***** ('rahul' ), from lazy ***** ('12345') to tedious-to-type ************* ('samrudhi@123+')
Thank God , the password policy's had made people roll their fingers all over the keyboard in search for special characters.
Moreover, girl followed the way to the sofa , looked for the newspaper scattered across the table.
Not finding the The Pune times, migrated to the next table.Yeah, got it.
Browsing through, looking for the latest and nascent gossip,Not much, poor fate!!
Silent Vibrator tone in her bag brought her back to her cheerful best.
"Hi, h&%$#(...............", voice slowly mitigated to nano decibels.
And i wondered how the person across the call was deciphering the voice.
I think if it was he, he would be assuming what he wanted to hear and if it was she, she didn’t need to hear, she will speak too.
While a man usually gets mobile with mobile calls, girls look for a reclusive place to sit and talk. Read deal and Raw deal.
The girl chose the rarely used staircase to sit and talk.
After a little less than an hour , gathered herself and went to her assigned seat to look for the work she had to deal with.
Girls always know to deal. Deal during shopping, deal during work, deal during conversation.And inevitably, they get the best deal.
The task is not enough to keep her busy for 7 hrs.
Picked up the beetel receiver and dialled a number. Almost 11 digit- A mobile number, Pat me for my analytical bend of mind and bark at me to snoop on girls.
Another 25 minutes of whispering into phone, she hanged up and killed one task.
Come 2nd task. While stifling it to death, she got a call on her cell. She picked up and slowly walked through to the other staircase on her left.Another 25 minutes.
Came back and gave a final touch to the impending task.
Lunch time.
She went all the way on some call looking for a shade in the way.
Gesturing her food court company to continue moving, she haulted to deal with this call as well.
Lunch over with as little food as possible killing as much time as she can.
Enough to survive and deal.
Final task- and the final nail in the coffin.
She roared in herself" No task ever so daunting could steal my talktime"
No interruptions. She responded 2 more calls duration each around 20 minutes with few dialed ones duration aggregated to say 80 minutes but executed in installments.
Nokia Battery put to acid test. They must have employed a female employee for regression testing for the battery backup. And I am sure with no remuneration.
Timeup. 5.30: Pack up. The cell is already beeping in pain like a dog being hit with a stone on its leg.
And I doubt, if the same saga of telling and hearing tales would have stopped once the charger is present there eternally plugged in , ready to refuel the ion tanker.
I was left wondering :
What do they talk?
What is the topic? Is it only one topic or is it different every time or does it start with one and traverse every topic?
Where the information comes from?and where does that go??
Where the patience comes from?
Where the calls come from?
Will the topics and contents ever get decapitated?
Will they too have a day when they say” Ha yaar, ha .. haa.. sure will do that.. I am fine. Ok chal milte hai, cha Bye” (1-2 min call)?
If a day like this arrives, Will their food get digested or will they stop eating at all?
In sab sawalo ke jwab janne ke liye—padhte rehiye--
http://dheeraj-haveabreak.blogspot.com
Dheeraj
Labels: Holy war b/w Man and Woman, Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 3:10 AM |
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| Pyar Ke effects |
| Tuesday, April 10, 2007 |
"Hiieeeeeii, What are you doing?" The GF asked sweetening the hi to a level that it sounded like a painful scream.
"Nothing!, just came from office".Unknotting the irritating neck tie, the guy said.
"Hmmm,So?" The GF enquired.
"mmmm?? nothing, will change now ". The guy answered reluctantly wishing she keeps the call now.
"Oh ok, why do you work so late in office?" GF in no mood to let it go.
"Arrey yaar, I had some urgent work." Guy frowned in frustration taking out the wet socks with the maximum power he could apply on the frontal part of the socks.
"There is one guy who is handling this MNC,you always have some work or other that keeps you in the office" Girl wanting to put some words into his mouth.
"Waste to convince her". Guy conceded
"Hmmmm".Guy avoided confrontation.
"What work do you do there?" Girl continued the relentless assualt.
"He will crack down and speak out what is the truth". she took oath.
"I know you want to start a bickering that will end up in a confession from me". he gasped
"Hey sweets , You wont understand, It's kind of technical".he kept his cool.
"I do understand.Ok!! I am not as dumb as you think I am,tell me." she ordered.
The sweet Hi has changed to bitter question.
" Fine".Patience lost and so the battle.
"I work for a Healthcare and Insurance US client.They are opulent or so my company believes or they are stupid, I dont care. They are topsy-turvily overhauling the entire system that was running very fine till we won the bid to demolish and renovate the perfectly fine brainchild of some consultant who happened to be from my comany itself only a few years ago. Now, the whole system is in mess and we are trying to fix that mix with everyone in a fix. Even, an efficient person like Shilpi and Rajdeep is finding it hard to complete the task in time. Since, new months data needs to be updated and available by next week, we are working late nights and will continue working so hard because we have more historical monuments lined up from the same client to be demolished"
"Got it??". he exhaled in exasperation and went to the bathroom to wash his stinking legs and threw the socks which had acquired a rubber band shape .
"Oh , can't you simply say you cherish to spend time with that Shilpi.No wonder you always disconnect my call in office. You never talk properly.You are afraid of people knowing about me.Your dreams will crash. Right?" she hit the nail.
Fearing the calamity, the guy arranged the succor.
"Oh come on, you know there is nothing like that. Everyone in the team stays late. We have our calls from onsite every morning and evening. We have so much work pressure. That's why I disconnect. I think I will call you back but forget in flurry of work. i am sorry." Voice imploring forgiveness ,for what, he wondered.
"Bye, don't call me ". Girl exploded
My telephone bills, guy calculated ,95% yrs acheivement.
She always hangs up during dying seconds of the minute.
She always hangs up citing "Mummy is coming,hey someone is calling blah blah, I will call back" withing 5 minutes.
There pops up no emergency when I call up? The guy continued wondering.
let me have the dinner.
Time:12.30pm
Action: Boy messaging the girl " Hey honey, I am sorry.You know I love you" As if he is not sure whether he loves her .
Reaction:A miss call @12.45pm from girl.
In a fraction: Boy calls up the girl and everything is fine for next one hour.
Chain reaction: Love is a vicious circle.You keep doing the same thing everyday, hoping something will change someday.
Cheers for love,
DheerajLabels: Holy war b/w Man and Woman, Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 10:22 PM |
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| Capital I @ 13 years |
| Monday, April 9, 2007 |
I was around 13 years old, I would have preferred using 13 year young but for the standards,when I first thought of writing forcefully.I purchase great honor when I admit I am a spontaneous person and it was my first attempt to hit at my sagacious thought process.
I tried to find out any subject on which I could scribble something and at the same time use the recently learnt vocabulary to a degree where I am not caught by any amateur reader atleast.
At 13-14, I was excusable for carrying megalomaniac and please-only-me attitude by the elite senior citizen, so no harm of being insinuated by them.
Here is an account of the first subject on which I wrote. This is not what I wrote though :).
It brought me pious hapiness when i stood up tall in my clumsy half pant(Yes, i wore it even till my 8th standards.For other idiosyncracies, please mail me back personally) and corrected the handwriting teacher of his 'RABIT' spelling.
"Sir, Sir, Sir(atleast 3 time is a must to catch attention of the class,No harm if you face tilts towards the female section even if talking to your teacher who is making a perfect normal to your flat torso) Rabit has double 'B', you have written the spelling wrong,you have only written one B" all in one breath to ensure somebody doesn't sense my catch and utters it before i complete.
Being too generous towards the house captain and the class monitor, he thought a bit and added
"No Dheeraj, Its correct".
Someone pulled my tiny wrist and forced me to take my seat.
"A brilliant colleague is the most hated one." I murmured in hushed tone.
The first thing after returning home ,I did was to verify my claim by looking through Bhargava's Pocket dictionary.
That thesaurus can be easily win the the oldest book available in most of the households.
And first 3 pages from 'A', 'Aba','Abbot' to 'Abandon' can win the most turned pages of the book. Every time someone tries to learn English, inevitably it starts and ends with the first 3 pages of the tiny creature more or less analogous from "Atomic Structure" to "Chemical Bonding" when it came to +2 Chemistry books.
The progression from early teen to late teen could travel for only 3 pages to 3 chapters.
Lucky me, got admission in Engineering and learnt to devour an entire book in one night-out.
"Rabbit": Gotcha, i shouted throwing my shoes off and removing back straining, ink-scarred, butt-torned, ball-penned, super-faded school bag at the same time on the first step at the entry to my sweet home.
To collect everything from everywhere is not the task of a brilliant student and scorned class monitor. Mamma can help herself.
The first thing that Mamma always looked from my bags is my tiffin box ,unlatching top pouch(she actually didnt need to, I could take that tiffin out from the small gap adjacent to central latch.)
And she invariably got a half loaf of bread, roti, paratha and little bit of whatever complimented the maincourse. And yes, a bit of foreign material. Friend's tiffin box and tiffin material always looked and tasted better, read in the same order. :)
Next day, "Holi shit!! That goon doesn't have his class today." I cried foul.
I was impatient to hilt.
First thought, "Go and catch hold of him anywhere and throw that thesaurus flat on his crooked face."
Instanteous thought, "No let him strip off in front of the class."
Final thought" Yes, I will wait till tomorrow."
An attacked,proud and incredibly able teenger needs no second thought.
Thinking weakens decisiveness.
No harsh decisions can be taken upon rational thinking.
Ohh, i am a born thinker, best intellect, best fighter, brilliant student, commanding leader,best looking "almost man" , and prospective great lover.
No wonder i shouldn't try my luck on the most beautiful girl in the school. She should come to me.
"Why did the beauty detoriate today though?"First thought
"That 5th standard Manisha looked amazing today". Second thought ,which I wasn't supposed to.
The night had been more torrid than some other night which was nothing but yesternight.
Next day. All hail Mr. Crooker
I cleaned up the blackboard as if I am clearing all the obstacles of delaying the chance to prove my mettle against the class.
Every girl is present. Good.
"She looks better than yesterday."
" What about the girl behind her?" Hey , I never noticed she has some special aura.
I will steal a look getting back to my seat. not a problem.
Enters the teacher.
"Good Mooooo....rnin......................nnnnnnnnnnnnnn Sir" in unison - perfect harmonics, but did anyone even used "g" at the end of "morning" in the class?
"Waste"!
"Sir,Sir ,Sir" hands raised before I detached my aching spine bone from the wood bench.
"I looked into dictionary; Rabbit will carry double b and not single b"
Thought of saying" You were wrong , I was right, I am right" I am always right.
"Yes, Dheeraj.You are right. I was confused. Good.Look , he takes so much interests in his convictions.He pays attention in the class. Good."Crooked one was a person crowning me now and so he is a good teacher now.
I felt an urge to keep standing till the last bell rings like the chivalrous soldier in shining armour had beaten a caged tiger and wants every flower in the arena to be showered on him.
But I sat. Knowledge comes with dignity.
Everyone was talking of me during lunch break and on way back home.I tried to avoid listening to self -praise but wanted more of it.
At home, waited for Papa to come eagerly.
He arrived at 5:45p.m (he goes by 9:55 am , he is a govt employee).
And told him the story and got a 2 rs new coin as a reward( A samosa for me and my new friend) and later on a few discussions with less-enlighted tenants about my brilliance.
"Way to go Dude" .Another restless night.
~DheerajLabels: Humor, Turn The pages |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 4:08 AM |
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| Maa, tum kahi.. |
| Wednesday, April 4, 2007 |
Mujhe sote me niharti ho
Mujhe rote hue dularti ho
Ek kale tike se na jane kaise
Meri balaye utarti ho
Jis bhagwan ki baatei tum kerti ho,
Maa--- kahi tum wo bhagwan to nahi ho
Mere ek roti kam khane me ruth jati ho
Maa--- kahi tum wo bhagwan to nahi ho
Tumhe dard nahi hota, Tum athak ho..
Tum jeevan deti ho,jab bhi pukar lu,tum har waqt ho
Tum Janani,palnhar ho,Iska aur kya arth hai-
Tumhara sneha agadh hai, wo bi niswarth hai
Tum kahti thi bhagwan humesha dukh me yad aate hai
Mujhe bhi kal chot lagi, par maine tumhara nam liya
Maa-- kahi tum wo bhagwan to nahi ho
Tum kahti thi bhagwan har jagah hote hai,,man ki aakho se dekho
Par Mai tumhe dekhta hu,tum har kahi ho
Maa-- mujhe batao tum wo bhagwan to nahi ho
Har kathin ghari me tum kahti thi bhagewan becha lete hai
Kal jab mai ro reha tha,,Tumahre aachal ne mere aaso sonkh liye
Meri khushi ke liye tum kitne dukh sahi ho..
Maa --kahi tum wo bhagwan to nahi ho?
Maine bhagwan ko to nahi dekha
Maine tumhe dekha hai
Aur jaisa tumne bhagwan ke bare me bataya hai,
Tum bilkul waisi ho
Jis bhagwan ki baatei tum kerti ho
Maa tum devi ho, par anjan ho ki usi bhagwan ka vardan ho
Maa-- Tum wahi bahgwan ho,,,!!!
~DheerajLabels: Poems, Turn The pages |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:52 AM |
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| Bacho ki kavita |
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Aaj shukrawar hai,
Hafte me aata ek baar hai
Laata khushia hajar hai
Har din bas iska intejar hai
Mumbai wale ghar jate hai
Kabhi kabhi mithai late hai
Humara ghar dur hai
Jana jarur hai
Chuthi jama kar ghar jate hai
Waha se aam ka achar late hai
Meri mumy mere liye banati hai
Par sara achar mere dost khate hai
Kal humko office aana hai
Kuch hisab chukana hai
Mere dost der tak soyenge
Aur Sham ko film dekhenge
Koi baat nahi hai
Jo hai sahi hai
Humko extra chuthi milegi
Credit me 1 din aur judegi
Hum ghar jaenge,achar nahi laenge…
Jitna hoga ,sab wahi khaenge!!!!
~DheerajLabels: Poems, Turn The pages |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:51 AM |
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| Story of Unwanted Mails |
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We get dozens of mail everyday. Some crap, some interesting, and some amazing….I want to talk about the unwanted mails….
1) The first kind of unwanted mails comprises of mails that are originated by someone you just know, least interested in their matter of affairs, still they keep sending you forwards that are repetitive, unnecessarily emotional, at best new and nice. But you would have preferred it by someone else.
Girls Be Careful, the guy is interested. Boy’s don’t reply to your benchers friend. Don’t feed them. However ,no guarantees that the friend will forgive your mailbox.
2) Sometimes,we are too generous in replying to all….we see someone special in that cc part. Sometimes,you don’t care who is the special one but simply wont mind one..
3) Pl’s are the most suffered specie . No matter, if the subject really concern them or not..They are unceremoniously dropped to their mailboxes.
4) Ditched boy/girlfriend….. You are very happy to finally snap the relation that was started to be burden on you. You changed your number,your city..Mailbox still exists.No matter how much you try to ignore, you still go through it once.
5) Mistakes done earlier..When we first opened our e-mail accounts.We used to excitedly tick all the options for interest. Or join a group in search of something,, Group’s love start showering on you.
6) Official group mails..Not entirely unwanted..But there are times wen two gr8start sharing their knowledge prowess jargoned wth business vocabulary,or some self-appointed teachers /newsletters/announcement that bother u least/seminars / and hell lot of them…
~DheerajLabels: Office Travails |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:50 AM |
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| Infy-Silver Jubilee Gift |
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Weekend Gujara, Gift na aaye,
aaye re aayee ab 3 july ,
Shandar hue 25 saal…
silver Jubilee Infy ne manayee,
Kisi ko laptop to kisi ko ipod ki khwahish…
Aur kya khub mila hai surprise,,,,
Mail na aaye, na aaye badhai,,
aakho me asoo le aye, Badi ruswayee. Badi ruswayee..
Sari raat is khwab me bitayee..
Sapne me laptop ke sang photo bhi khichai, ?
Mer CTS wale dost ko kya muh dikhau,,
Dil ke armmaa kaise chupau..
Kya khud kharid ke ipod ghar chala jao..
Ya, uske taane sunne ke pahle chadar taan ke so jau??
maine kal naya chadar bichaya,,
Bagal ke khali jagah dekh kar yu muskaraya----
Mera laptop mere sath rehega
Yaha par mai,,bagal me laptop kaisa lagega? ?
Wo jagah kitni suni lagegi,,
Meri raatei kaise kantegi!!
Meri or se le lo badhai..
Dukhi na ho dosto, jao canteen…
Aur , kha lo mithai..
~DheerLabels: Office Travails, Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:44 AM |
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| Dekho Has Na dena.. |
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Ek ladki hai, cubicle ki chaar diwaro ke bad
Desk pe, canteen me, har wakt aati hai yaad
Ek bar galti se bhi dekh le –Bas
Puri ho jati hai dil ki murad
Usi lift me chadhta hu,
jisme wo pravesh kerti hai—
Saari Dusht nigahe uspe hi.
Kuch aisa vishesh kerti hai
dadhi-mooch,badhi-badhi thi—
Kabhi office, nahi ban –than ke aata tha
Meri jindagi me office aana
Jeevan kaatne ka bas ek saadhan tha
Par jab se wo padosan hui hai--
Mere Dil me halchal hui hai.
Ab mere Meri dadhi 1mm bhi nahi badhti hai
Har din uspe churia chalti hai.
Mai sapno me basuri bajata hu
Jaise Mai kanha hu , wo radha hai—
Mer wardrobe me wo deospray hai
Mahak ki range jiski sabse jyada hai
Uski julf ki har lahar me
Mera Dil Ghum ghum jata hai
Baat to kuch badhi nahi
ab dil bahlana hi aata hai
With Love
DheerajLabels: Poems, Supposed to be cheap Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:35 AM |
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| Living inside me |
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Mer din me , meri raat me—
Subah ki pyari bela me, shaam ke rangeen mijaj me
Santare ke chilke ke upar, rasgulle ke ras ke andar,
Roti me , daal me, Daru ke har glass me
Rehti hai pass me, basi hai saans me
Mere dil me ja chupi hai, Nikaal sakta use kassh mai
Mere liver me , mere kidney me
Meri aakho me, mere rom ke har ahsas me
Muthi band keru , to hath me
Mere shirt ke pocket me, mere juraab me.
Har kahi hai who, har jagah khari hai wo
Har wakt hai wo, har ghari hai wo
Mai khush rehu kyu??
Mai khush rehu kyu—
Wo mujhe hi nahi , sabhi ko pyar kerti hai
Sabhi ka daaman apne pyar se bharti hai
Sochte kya ho, kaun hai wo??
Bahar nikalo , aakhe kholo
Use dekh sako aankhe bhar ke
Fir kuch bolo!!
us roopmati ko koi nahi sakta hai bhool
Wo hai Mere pyarii--- Puneri Dhool!!
Sing it: Dhool Dhool Dhool Dhool== Dhool hai dangerous , mar sakte hai ,if swallowed daily mouth full-full!!!!!!!
~DheerLabels: Poems, Supposed to be cheap Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:32 AM |
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| Life is overrunning |
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Leaving the same old gate with routine check up
Reaching home only to make sure I have a sleep,
Waiting for alarm again to wake me up
It seems I am not crossing timesheet
But time skidding under my feet
When I hear the music that bring memories of past,
When I see same old lisp in school goers clad in white, blue, red--
I feel it had been ages past
Images blurred, memories cobwebbed
Life hadn’t got wings
My heart no more sings
Wings have been snapped off, bird being caged
Wondering where the wonders are, life once staged!
Life is not passing by, it is over running
Two days when there is something heart can demand
But mind reprimands…
Catch a sleep, wake up -- sip some wine
I ask why?
My heart doesn’t shy..
Says it all—
I want to live in oblivion..
Lost in labyrinths—
Fear to live on own terms,
driven by mundane pursuits
Happy falsehood, Dreadful truths!!
~DheerLabels: Office Travails, Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:31 AM |
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| Silent sore |
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God’s wrath or Ruth, I had to decide
I was only 16 then, I confide
Some called it puppy love,
Some hailed as another philanderer in the town
I took it something that was my own,
A relation that was my child
Soft, sensitive, turbulent and wild
Relation not of blood, not bestowed by god
This was mine, my own-self--thanks lord
Hairs that hanged lose down to the supple chin
The silken growths reigning free from that little pin
Marring her vision every sixth second
When she raised her looks from behind ---
I bent my knees, unable to defend
Eyelids fighting for space for their swings
I saw all similes in there, and my imaginations get its wings..
Heart sags, beat sores
Can you hear? I pleaded in silence
My cries, my encores??
One fine day, I gathered it all
I decided to speak it out and stand tall
Heart threatened to fail, face --stale pale
That fine day, it was all, but not over
I will be happy to have the feeling, forever!!
Lost someone, who never was mine
Grudge stays that way, but life runs fine
I treasure the marvels in wilderness and in solitude,
It till persists-- silent, mute
I sing with heart zeroed on you
I osculate; I talk --when I remember you
I crave for you, my benign love,
But all the way I know, I can’t get you.
~DheerLabels: pensive, Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 12:26 AM |
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| Mama is waiting... |
| Sunday, April 1, 2007 |
Knock- Knock- Knock
Mama opens the door,
Feels pleased to see you –
Standing Tall of her
Every festive, every jamboree
She waits for you
She is living on your hopes
Hopes -- that you blew.
She had prepared few breads more
She dreamt of you last night..
And here go you
Will never appear in her sight
So badly I need
Your tickle on head, scalp so eager
To sit over mothers lap on the rooftop
Again in the morning sun of December
Press 10 mps more on the car…,
Delve 10 feets deeper in sea
To satisfy my appetite
for cheap glee
10 gms more of hash
10 feets more over mountain
She is thinking nice of you
But, All in vain
Reminiscing what have I Left barren
I want to relive
I want to laugh again,
I want to weep
Have fun, but strings are attached,
Your life drives other lives too--
Think once more -- before you do
And leaves everyone with no clue!!
~DheerajLabels: pensive, Poems |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 10:23 PM |
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| Andey ka Funda |
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Statuary warning: Following content may be debilitating to weak hearts and may affect adversely your eating habits.. Proceed on your own risk.
Era:A year back during the times of Chicken flu!!
Attention to all desperate Non veggies, rein in the desires bursting out to smack yr lips with eggs and chickens.
It is an anecdote on my experience during the last longish weekend (Was it really long?? Good days pass in flash :()
Well coming to my subject…we planned to shun our fear and defensive approach that is keeping the poultry industry at utter dismay.
We decided to go for the very popular, easy to make, easy to eat Bread Omlete –
The Breakfast for bachelors..(I never miss out an opportunity to advertise my celibacy and singlehood :))
So,we brought two dozens of egg .It was pain of longing souls…satisfaction of getting back to normancy in dietary habits ,,
Nothing could take us aback that day…I even ignored which many of you will feel YUKK…Puking even while reading ..
But its stark truth..
As the knife fell with dripping saliva on the fragile neck of the egg.. something unexpected happened…
The pan was filled with blood and so was my fingers ..much like Ramsay’s Horror flicks..
But much like brave and confident Steven Seagull I didn’t make noise,,
Must be some mistake …I thought while enquiring of any bruises on my hands and fingers..
Now, Second one…creakkk….No,Impossible !!! It was an embryo almost fertilized to life……
Some figures I have seen on Discovery Channel…or science fiction movies.
(Now, Imagery hurts at these times)
Chicken lovers are deprived with one more life..Egg which cant even satisfy one empty tummy…was about to grow into a full fledged mammal…
But I didn’t let it happen.. I killed a life….
But I didn’t flutter..
Third one…creak..ok…That’s normal
It was okay with respect to what I have witnessed earlier..however, It smelled strange..
Anyways,,No more problems in the later editions of eggs..
I ate the much coveted eggs sparingly,. and fed most of them to my friends who later complained of uneasiness and nausea…vomiting tendencies….
But today the secret has to come in open. I thought it to write it in open for the benefit of masses and FYI for my friends.. :)
Lesson:
1)Take care when buying eggs. Better purchase, from place where there is a regular circulation of fresh and old ones…
2) Vegetables carry greater calorific and nutrient values. Read your STD 5,6 science books again.
Vegetarian,
DheerajLabels: Funny Sides of Events, Humor |
| posted by Dheeraj @ 10:12 PM |
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