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A Midnight’s Dilemma

To write or not to write- that is half a question
To go over in the mind asleep;
Slings and arrows of wakefulness
To surface from its sea to consciousness
Or suppress them, end them. To sleep, to sleep-
No more- and by a sleep to say release
Let go of a thousand and more thoughts
That the mind is heir to- ‘tis euphoria
Devoutly to be wished. To sleep, to sleep-
To sleep, perchance till twelve. Ay, there’s the rub,
Of an eye, for ‘til the fresh rays come,
The thought has left this mortal coil.
This gives us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long and dark a night.
For who would bear the glares and ticks of time,
The spacing out, the offended glares,
The pangs of a body hungering for sleep, and its arrival’s delay
The sleep deprivations and the spins
This patient merit of th’ body takes
When he himself his bed made,
With bare hands? Who would fardels bear,
To fumble in the dark, for the light switch
But the dread of losing that thought,
It’s departure to new-found lands
From where it never returns, puzzles the will
And makes us pick those quills we have
And have them fly over flapping sheets
Thus does the clock above make fools of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
To shut the eyes tight, and ward off all thought
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of another thought
But enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard, their currents hasten
But sleep must lose the name of action- Sleep-deprived you now!
The fair inkiness! Black, In thy testament
Be all my sins remember’d.

 

P.S. as you can probably guess, it’s that time of the year again.

Test time.

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Bohemian Lament

Exams draw near, and it brings out the worst in me.

In my defence, I get bored.

 

Is this a real pile? Is it just fall-acy?
Caught in a landslide
Of books sliding down on me
Open your eyes
Look up to the ceilings and see
I’m just a poor boy
Pile of books taller than me,
Knowledge easy come, easy go
Little high, little low
Any way the wind blows,
The answers seem to blow with them
Away from me

Mama just killed a man
Just the turn of a page,
Flicked an eye and now he’s dead

Mama, the lesson’d just begun
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away

Mamaaa ooooooooooo
Didn’t mean to make you cry
But I won’t be done with this by tomorrow
Grind on, grind on
As if nothing really matters.

Too quick
It’s time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Eyes shutting all the time

Goodbye everybody
I’ve got to go
Gotta leave the world behind and face the books

Mama, oooooo
I don’t wanna die
And sometimes wish I’d studied a bit before

I see a little silhouette of a book
Scandium, scandium, can you be less scandalous
Thunderbolts and lightning are just electrons flying at you
Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo Galileo didn’t see this coming,
No-o-o-o-o.

I’m an unpaired electron, nobody loves me
Unpaired and Lost from his metal was he
Spare him his life of unfulfilled valency
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
Bismillah! No, we will not let you go
Let him go!
Bismillah! We will not let you go
(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go
(Let me go.) Will not let you go
(Let me go.) Will not let you go. (Let me go.) Ah
No, no, no, no, no, no, no
(Oh mamma mia, mamma mia) Mamma mia, let me go
Bismuth has an orbital put aside for me
For me
For mee!

So you think the plain ground state was made for I?
So you think I’ll just keep spinning here till I die?
Oh, gaining, velocity baby,
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here

(Put down the book, and)
Nothing really matters
All the prep there can be
Nothing makes the difference
For me.

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Cycle of Life

I was reading an article on how the population equilibrium on the planet will be maintained- a cycle of events that supposedly take place, that ensure a balance in human numbers on the planet.

Very roughly, they cycled as follows:
At first, there was a medium-ish population, and a small, hand sowed-and-reaped produce just enough to feed it.
If the population increased, the food supply was the limiting or checking factor, maintaining our population size.

Then came the mechanisation.
All of a sudden, with industrialisation, machines were reaping more crops than ever.

For once, an increasing population had enough, and even surplus food in store. (Cue: the Great Depression of the late ’20s, where the grain produce was so much, it had no more value in the markets.)

With this, and advances in technology and medicine, the so-far tight check on population growth loosened, and what began was the third phase of the cycle: something we call the population explosion.

In this stage, life conditions look relatively hunky dory, people live, live, and keep on living.

We’re accelerating too much, the problem of today.

Well, here’s what the cycle says.
This is where a fourth phase in the cycle kicks in.

There will then follow a stabilisation, wherein, with lower mortality rates and more longevity, humans will start reproducing less.
There simply won’t be a need for people to have as many kids anymore.
[Also, I may add, the lack of a libido, as seen in the Japanese, and the introduction of AI into the sex sphere, may play big roles in bringing down the very need/urge for human sex, and indirectly, reproduction.]

Now, I’m not economist or researcher. But I have another theory.

The human race will advance further in the intelligence sphere, and we’ll soon be delegating our intelligence to algorithms.

We’ll progress to the point where we’ve become far too comfortable.
(And trust me, we’re on our way there.)

The human body was designed for action. We were predators and prey once. Now we prey on the supermarket.
We use to be on the move.

Heaven knows we may adapt to inactivity. But mostly, I think that would fall apart.

Soon, non-movement-related illnesses would begin to take control of the human race, and human numbers will fall, because most likely, we won’t be able to reverse the damage.
Lifestyles mostly only progressively change, not regressively.

Now birth and death rates will balance out, and for all you know, despite improving technology, we may not have the problem of food surplus, because of the growing importance of (and money diverted to the production of) medicinal precautionary drugs, etc. in the human diet.
We come back to Step 1 of the cycle, i.e., balance. (Birth = death ≤ food supply).

There is another way, though.

Human beings’ strongest claim to the top of the hierarchy has always been their superior thinking ability. We’ve outsmarted and ousted almost every other dominant species on the planet. We call it civilisation.

But, of late, we’ve been handing over the reigns to the Golden Age bearers; with a machine to do everything a human can, the human needn’t work anymore. We have submitted to the idea of the Reigner Supreme: the now preferred machine.
Soon enough, the machine takes over the thinking aspect as well. Like a rusting machine, the now-useless human brain rots away in wastefulness.
No longer the well-oiled machine it once was, the evolution of the human brain stops.
With our front running claim to the top, our biggest weapon blunted, we will slide lower. Rationality and logical thinking will be lost, one bad decision will lead to another, till we’ve effectively dwindled down to the last human.
Ain’t that hard to kill the last dodo, is it now?

At last the cycle will end, and the winners, created by the ones they destroyed, the Reigning Machines, the victors, would stand tall, perfect and purposeless.

Hey, I’m only a science fiction writer, but who’s to say that dolphins won’t rule our planet one day?

 

Waitlisted Again…

What’s the most natural thing most (non twelfth-grader) people do on a weekend night?
They go out and stuff themselves silly, without a word of complain, even if what they’re eating turns out worse than their mum whips up. (Wait… do I sound out of touch?)
It so happened this Friday that we fell into the same line of thinking and decided to go out for dinner.
I don’t know if we should have expected it to be crowded, but the sheer numbers amazed me.
We’d won the goddamned lottery.
Turns out, a team of office-goers had booked the restaurant for the night.
Two hundred and fifty of them, to be precise.
We were told that we had a better chance of getting a seat if we came back the next day.
Now this sounds familiar.
Like every hopeful kid who has poured their heart into their essays, we decided to try and wait anyway.
We were told we’d have to wait at least 45 minutes.
Hmmm… 50 seats, 250+ applicants… now what might their acceptance rate be?
Selectivity was high. Hence began the sizing up of fellow applicants, current students and alumni.
Retentivity was obviously high. And people were taking their time, for sure.
Between dad and my sister, twenty minutes were spent on quality commentary on a poor kid who was just taking too long with a dish.
Well, you heard what they said about idle minds.
Me, I was occupied with the match on the big screen. It’s cricket season again! (To be honest, when isn’t it?)
But heck, I’m observant.
There was another couple who had an issue with their bill. As dad watched them finally sign their scrap of paper with a flourish, I could see him almost tasting victory.
Forty minutes.
Anyway, this was one place I finally did get off the waitlist.
They were surprisingly efficient even with two hundred and sixty odd people (I mean odd in every way… I’m dreading office life already. Who knew the most diplomatic folks were the ones who let loose so completely?)
The food was good too, so the forty five minutes were worth the wait.
Makes me wonder if I should give dinners out another chance. Maybe it’s really not that hard to stop being lazy and allow your arse to get kicked out of the house every once in a while?
Goodness, us twelfth graders must be really lazy.
At any rate, if such situations happen to repeat themselves, I’m gonna land me a college alright!

City

The stars begin to fade
To their billionth blissful oblivion
Rising from the ashes of the blade
Dust flies up over the horizon

Showdown begins at sunrise
You’re snatched out of a broken dream
The ceasefire of the night dies
Shattered by an early scream

Two sides of the same coin
Hide the other with a mask
Another chance to drown the disappointment
No, you nor her were up to task

And home’s a long way to bide
Uncertainty comforts your stay
The grass may be greener on the other side
But I’d rather lose myself in the hay

The bright lights everlasting
Don’t you know she never sleeps
Please smile while you choke on plastic
Heart heavy every night she weeps

She’d like to say she tries
Blend a palette with many hues
Heed joy and despair in her cries
And the rasp of overuse

She’s seen the rise and she’s seen the fall
She sees the minds walk on thin ice
Knowledge is heavy and she knows it all
Always broke, but she pays the price

Taken for a ride
A million dreams away
The grass may be greener on the other side
But I’d rather lose myself in hay

While the dream keeps her alive
Memory washed on a sunny bay
The grass may be greener on the other side
She will live to see another day.

Survey #39

 

*stretches out of disuse*

A rare moment of freedom and inspiration has allowed me to put out this much-procrastinated survey… it may be from September, for all I know!

 

Q: What are your plans for surviving apocalypse?

Shania: Die? Or dress Zombae’s hair. I’ll be a Zombae hairdresser: Zombae Hair Salon. Please visit!

Pranav: Probably bingewatch my 50 anime gigs and Narcos before that happens. But if I get the chance to run away like in ‘2012’, then of course, why not?

Aayush: I’ll follow Nidhi ma’am.

Anand: I shall die with music in my ears, anime in my heart and a basketball in my hands. A glorious, beautiful death.

Siddharth: Assuming that the apocalypse is the shutting down of the Internet, I’d survivse on pre-downloaded TV-shows till I run out and then live life lkike people did in the 1800s and 1900s: bare essentials.

Aayush: Just chill.

Sakshi: Stay hiddden in one of the deserted cars, because nobody pays attention to them.

Neha: If it’s a zombie apocalypse, I will camp out in a huge grocery store and stay away from bikers or people trying to find their families because 99% of the time, they’re crazier than the zombies.
If it’s a robot apocalypse, then I’d be quite happy to let them inherit the earth. They’d probably do a brilliant job.

Vyshnavi: I’m useless, so I’d die!

Eesha: I 1. am very tiny
2. care for no one
So I can hide in the weirdest of places and also will slaughter a person if needed. And I will do anything for a burger.

Shubhankar: I don’t wanna survive.

Marc: I can’t share that, or you’ll survive.    [Yeah, thank you.]

Netra: Time travel again and again until I actually die.

Nishidh: Die!

Shrinjay: You don’t survive an apocalypse.

Eeshan: Take a neverending nap.

Yusuf: I will be under the protection of “Sunita Ramesh”.   [inside joke]

Ritankar: Let’s all die together!

Kaustubh:  Get high on all kinds of drugs nd play my Xbox till I die.

Anushka: Die happily because I’ll have no reason to live.

Daivya: Just die.

Maulishri: Die!

Richa: Die.

Eva: Go with the flow, and by that I mean, you guessed it, die.

Ashay: Go to pharen country.

Jai: Go to pharen country with Ashay.

Parthiv: Go to pharen country with Jai.

Harshit: Die with a glass of wine.

Archit: Go crazy all around.

Adhvait: Watch theb world tear apart

Ronan: Behave like a caveman 🙂

Aditya: Hide in a seed vault with a truck of soil.

Shamila ma’am: Go to pharen country with Ashay, Jai and Parthiv, if they don’t mind!

Manish sir: I’d die.

Satchit: I am Cactus-Man. Nothing can hinder my survival.

Saahil: My version of the apocalypse is the one from Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs, so I’d survive it by eating all the food. I must save the world!
[Anushree: Yes, please. Especially for us vegetarians.]

Aakansha: Use my T.A.R.D.I.S. to go to another era.

Vedika: I don’t plan  to survive.

Kritika: I’d die.

Sanyukta: Just dieee!

Manasi: Apocalypse is: Sanyukta’s screching, Aditi being a rat, Aninthitha [… this response was interrupted by actual apocalypse: the reak probably ended.]

Manya: Volcanic apocalypse: novels, and enjoying it. Thank goodness it finally happened.

Manvika: Who said I wanted to survive?

Aaliya: I will cause the zombie apocalypse, run around and eat people’s brains!

Aninthitha: If there’s a robot/AI battle for domination, I’ll turn. I hate people.

Rishabh: I’d just like to chill.

Arjun: I’ll hide under a table with enough water and food.

Shivani: Don’t wanna survive!

Jahnavi: I’d travel to another universe.

Vidhi: Stock up on pizza and coke in a cool place below the surface of the earth.

Anisha: Take all my books and hide in a cave/island/bunker.

Arshya: Hide somewhere.

Anandita: Huh? Plan? Whaat?

Aelin (pseudonym): Apocalypse: there’s no music and books in the  world anymore.
How I’ll survive:  Learn how to sing and manufactjure instruments, especially guitars and pianos.

Pragya: Apocalypse: No colours, everything is plain, black and white.
How I’ll survive: I’ll learn to paint and manufacture brushes, paints, everything related to art.

Manasi (again):  lmao I’d die first (unfit af).

Aryaa: Survival of the fittest! I will fight to death.  [this response hs been awarded seven stars and an “A++++++” by a fellow  surveyee]

Anushree: I’ll accompany Akicchi because she’ll know how to operate T.A.R.D.I.S. (I’m not a Whovian).

Aditi: I am ready for apocalypse. I have a secret candy stash (not telling where it is), I can survive in a bunker without meeting humans for days, and I’m not a very virtuous person either.
What more do you need?

Gauri: Build a bunker, fill it with an assortment of food, but mostly chocolate and cheese, stay there and watch movies for the remainder of my life.

Tanishi: I don’t wnna live! I’d die– happily!

Yatin: Promise me a pizza nd a smoothie, and maybe I’ll change sides.

Raghav: All the meth!

Ayushi:  I wouldn’t want to survive it. I’d prefer to die.

Jatin: Food suply, ammo and a shotgun.

Radhika: Lay down on the road and act like I’m dead.

Mahwash:  I would hoard pizzas and hang out with Arnab Goswami (to break the ice).

Anshul: Die before it even hits. Simple.

Deepan: Already going through one. It’s called twelfth grade.

Satvik: Lock myself up and meditate, then probaby get the zombies to self-actualization  and become their spiritual leader (not to be confused with MSG).

Punyam: No die.

 

Know what, the final verdict is out. We’re not going to make it. But I hope I make it, to the next survey! I’ve still tons of that crazy stuff to put out. Hold on tight.

Reflections

If you stand before a concave mirror
And if you snuggle up close enough
The image that you see
Won’t reflect what’s really there
If you stand tall
Your twin stands taller
If you smile wide
Your twin smiles wider
And obviously has a bigger heard
Welcome to her warped world
Where you stand magnified
Virtual images are illusions
Take a step back and see:
Your world’s really upside down.

Integrating On Windows

Being fair to me, it was my mum’s idea.

After listening to me whine for half an hour about how I was tired of doing maths (chide me, but this is how I spend my little breaks. I’ll never learn.), mum finally got fed up, and asked me, if I was so terribly sick of integrating on paper, why didn’t I change my medium and do it on the windows? (This was an offhand reference to a conversation we’d had earlier in the day about how my little sister used to scribble on just about anything with a chalk.) Afterall, hadn’t I just gone out a few weeks ago and very enthusiastically shopped for marker pens I had no idea what to do with?

And so it happened that mum came along a few hours later to find me, on my toes, furiously solving integral sums on the nearest window I could find.

(Alright, I’ll drop the facade. Not furiously.)

 

Of course I was using a permanent marker.

So I ascended from the depths of integrals, to a couple of shrieks.

My mum was more concerned about me falling out of the window (no, I cannot explain that), my sister had more objections to the fact that the instrument in my hands was permanent.

I can sort of understand her concerns. I imagine she was already beginning to have nightmares about the pen leaving an indelible mark, integration haunting her every time she looked to the window, for years and years.

I had an answer for her though. There’s nothing a little alcohol cannot fix.

I might have posted about this before, but this is one of the cases so far where my chemistry has come in handy. Organic solvents dissolve organic inks and the cleaning becomes real easy.

At any rate, here’s the result of my work:

79CA30DA-6C2F-4F10-BED0-F3BAC09E4AD8

Wonder if it’s going to help my grades in any way.

 

On a completely unrelated note, as I draft this post, mum and dad are in a feng shui shop, looking for something to “improve attention and concentration.”

Oh well.

More Pug All Thug

image.jpg

This apple sums up my life.

It was one of those with a deformity of one sort, and I decided that the least I could do for it was to cure it of its blindness: I gave it eyes.

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Criminal 09G6AX5

I almost carved a nose but ultimately decided against it. This guy’s some pug, more thug.

But I’ll be honest, I have almost not seen human chins this well developed. That’s my take, anyway.

In other developments, I’ve gone off any form of screen, two weeks already at least. Surprisingly, I’m not in the least bored, but then again, I don’t have the time to be, nor can I afford to: the big month’s here, and once it’s done, you’ll see me running around singing every song with the word, or notion of, freedom. I may not be kidding you.

But for now, the mission calls.

I’m still underground.

It’s For Real!

And I never have a punctutation, let alone an exclamation mark in my post titles, so you know it is.

It’s finally happening. Years of struggling and going unnoticed, and it’s finally happening. It’s taken, what, ten years, to get this far? To get as far as… coverage. I could cry.

Women’s cricket has made it to TV. It’s not a World Cup match either, women’s cricket, on its own accord , has made it to the telly. (Too bad I’m about ten days away from my last school exams ever, meaning super important tests, to be able to watch it completely, but that doesn’t take away the momentousness.)

All images from today’s game courtesy CSA’s Twitter.

The BCCI had agreed to stream the first few T20Is on its website, which was all nice, but the performances couldn’t just be ignored, not when they’re this good!

So today, folks, I proudly (would have liked to) bring to you, South Africa women vs India women, live from Wanderers, live off my telly (but I can’t because if I watch it, I’m headed towards an F grade. Not happening.) but the facts that you (probably) have a TV set (or an Internet connection) which you can put to good use, and the match is finally being broadcasted, means I don’t even need to do this.

Go on, head to the real thing, it’s really heating up (and I know, because you can’t stop me from checking the score every fifteen ten minutes), so happy watching, it’s live now!

PS: Still so happy.