Selfie

I'm having a coke. Selfie!!! I'm cleaning my room. Selfie!!! I'm in the bus. I'll take a Selfie. I'm waiting for someone. I'll try some Selfies. This list isn't gonna end. You and I know what a selfie is. One picture you click of yourself. Now, selfie has become a way of life. As I was wondering about Selfies, I came up with few conclusions.

Are you self obsessive if you take a selfie? Most people will answer with a yes. But, no. The answer is a clear no. You would be, if you take the picture only for yourself, to capture a situation into a memory. But, is that the case? No, you take a selfie to show it to other people. While some people post it on social networking sites, that are connected to their siblings, thanks to the netted Internet, others do it calmly. They share it with friends and colleagues who are bound to see it, for being such a pleasure to them. But wait, you are trying to show someone what you are. You are not capturing it for yourself. You are capturing for the cause of ego, of building your own esteem, of boasting yourself, of being hyperbolic. So when you have to be looking at yourself, at the selfie cam of your device, you are actively busy staring at the screen worrying about how you would look to others. So, the bottomline being, you are trying to build yourself in others mind. You are trying to build a skyscraper in a land that is not yours, that soil you don't know, just for the reason that it needs to be yours.

When? Where? Why? The answer is random, arbitrary. While some have a selfie on the top of burj Khalifa, some have it in the luxurious toilet of an anonymous mall. While some take one in moments of happiness, others do because they are bored. The emphasis be on the reason, which is pretty much as existent as Indianness in red Indians. These questions fail to have a concrete, conclusive answer. It is good as long as you share it with the purpose of boasting, nothing wrong. The mistake has come with technology. 

My M8, for example, has never ending features regarding selfies. So, you lose the chance of having a person with you for selfies. People make you happy, even though you have dragged them with you to click a picture of yours, for moments will be shared. This will vanish real soon, accompanied by the invention of monopods. On the other hand, suppose there is a good friend of yours who has resolved to share his time with yours. But, he gets bored while you are looking at the smallest mirror in the world busy trying to depict yourself as something you are not. Trust me, there is a very high probability that this might create a dislike in your friend for you. You want to see how others are viewing you? Then, give the camera, your phone, to him. He might be seeing you beautifully, more vividly, differently from what you see yourself. He might be seeing your true beauty. So, shut your front cam up. 

Lastly, the selfie pose. Well, how many of you have ever posed for a selfie with your true expression? None. Not even one. If you ever did, sir, I bow to you. Duck faces, pouts, finger v, cross eyed stares, sleepy me and more. None of it is you. You are cute, you are beautiful when you are yourself. Everything else is a fake world. You are trying to portray yourself as someone who is not yourself. 

Concluding, you are clicking a photograph of someone who seems to be you, but isn't you, of a memory which no more is portrayed in the photograph because you occupy the camera space with your fake face, for showing it to people you don't know, or know in addition with the fact that your image in their brain needs to be manipulated. 

What? Read again, till you get it. Selfie? I hate you. Bye.

The murder

Yes, it is true that we are using people and loving devices. Let's speak about this thing called phone. Nine months ago, I woke one day to open flipkart. I found this Moto G, and ordered it instantaneously. I didn't even know what I was doing. I just saw that it came with Android 4.4 KitKat and went for it. After settling down, I read the specifications and was delighted. A perfect phone for me I thought.

It came in 3 days and I fell in love with it. A Love marriage it was. But the love was, love at first sight. You glance at a girl walking by, and fall madly for her because she throws the coffee cup the same way you do, into a trash can. Two days forth, you follow her, inquire who she is and then dream a lot about her. And there she is with you. Days proceed and you enjoy everything about her. So was it with my phone. Days went by, and I was discovering her features. 

Many a days, I was quite content with it, until a day came when I knew finally she cannot cook for me. It was the day I knew my phone didn't have enough memory to store all the songs I wanted it to. I had no other alternative, but to order a home delivery and eat with her everyday, but to listen to half my playlist everyday. I somehow got used to it, I had no other choice. 

Months passed and I managed to get hold of a Nokia, one of my first crushes. She could cook, a lot tastier food. I repented not proposing her marriage that day. I blamed the world for having carried me away, into false relationships, loves based on similarities and compulsions, afraid that I would have to take the real guilt. The guilt of searching for lust and not love, for status and not affection. But I had to settle with it, for moving back wasn't possible. Yes, life was very beautiful back then, but today, as I see it, it would be impossible for me to live on a phone that wouldn't conveniently stream my YouTube videos. 

Life was where I wish I could have my childhood crush back, but I did not because I was scared it would snatch me of my basic comforts, of being lively, living, communicating more with people and being a good being. But I refused. My ego did. No, I won't blame it. I did. I chose to be with the Moto for all it gave me. 

Then one fine day, I had to finally realize Google was going to come up with lollipop. As if I could see a girl, a hot colleague at work. Days forth was announced that my Moto would get an upgrade. I felt it was girl who could be better than her. I pushed my dearest hard, beyond her limits, to the gym and parlour. I had to root and keep it going, changing roms, confident everyday that at the end of the day, I need nothing but the regular rom to come back. She too tried to work out as I wished, and soon she saw that I was observing her physical beauty, and that I had given up the affection for lust, the love at first sight was no more. 

KitKat was now boring, for I stopped drinking coffee, all that was left was she and her coffee. Days passed by until I gave her up one day breaking the truth to her, that all I loved was something else. She couldn't stand it. She locked herself and wouldn't open, name boot. I was on the other side of the door, down on my knees, crying, begging her to be back. But, it was late. She had found the fan and a long cloth. Soft bricking was inevitable. The file system got corrupted forever and her feet were in the air. I realized slowly when all the adb and fastboot no more made sense. 

I broke open the door only to realize I wouldn't want that. I never wished that. But that was what happened. It was a soft brick, a suicide. But, deep inside I knew it was a murder, a cold blooded murder. I had given up my one real crush for a crazy love at first sight. Today when I saw she was not perfect, I willingly pushed her to the extreme, not waiting for her to go on diet by herself, and thus being the murderer. 

The next morning, I raced back to the showroom and spent a good amount to buy a HTC one M8. It was an arranged marriage, but the girl was perfect. She was easily the most eligible bride one could ever find. But the fear that a marriage that lacks love would stand long, given my randomness for rooting a Moto G was perilous. On the positive note, I feel content she can cook, sing, dance and walk with elegance beside me.

I only write this sad diary, for if I ever think of even changing the phone's launcher, of changing the ideal bride, then I should be willing to give up all the comforts this great device would give me and end up with a simple Nokia.

True love, and I never by my side stood.
infatuation to Moto was misunderstood.
All the commotion led to death and pain,
all my love was a fame game, I played in vain.

Now that I stand married to a bride, a heavenly fairy,
I willingly take her hand, and witnesses this diary.

Ah! Those winters

Ah! Those winds that don't blow are chilling cold, 

I wish my blankets were thicker four fold,

Warmth was sun in the afternoon,

ah! Those winters really were a boon.

Ah! Warm milk and coffee was a heaven to sip,

and never to forget was the cream's whip,

waters so cold that you think twice,

as if it was poison and you were the mice.

Ah!! The water lakes stood huge and still,

and rivers flowed calm down the soft hill,

trains chuckled back and forth the havens,

mesmerizing would have even been ravens.

Ah!! I miss the lands of green wavy fields,

I crave for cladding again in woolen shields,

there I want to lead my life forever,

and for it shall I ever endeavor.

I'll run back home from the scorching sands,

To the nature's pretty wonderlands,

I'll embark on the heart of India some night,

and capture in my eyes that soft light.

Ah!! I miss those winters when I would tremble and shiver,

ah!! I miss the hustle of the flowing river.

The murder of a story

It feels like a baby just out,
perfectly laughing in your hands stout,
when a rash stutters and urges to itch,
and you drop the baby before the womb's stitch,
all in a moment, a cat's blink,
and you know you killed a baby pink,
you would want to bomb and suicide,
swallowed by a guilt's tide.
None could comfort you then, none ever,
you would be scared forever of the pen, write never.
Lost is a baby that could've been a life,
none is more pain not even a knife.

P.S. : I just accidentally deleted a story I wrote, and am excruciating such pain. And if you are a writer at heart, you better know, it's impossible to reproduce an art. It's gone.

A tale of Durag and Seher

Long long ago on the coast of the green bay,
two kingdoms of rich heritage lay.
One of the rulers strong and brave,
for adventure they ever did crave.
Barahin was their reign to stay,
never out of red meat nor dry hay.
Their fields gleam in sun and in wind wave,
never borrowed a leaf to eat neither did they save.

On the shore that wasn't theirs,
was the kingdom of thousand stairs.
Flowers bloomed under the warm sun,
and the breezes danced in fun.
Long and dark were their maidens' hairs,
and naught to be seen were any lairs.
The account of wars they had was none,
to lands of Lorethin never did any knights run.

The prince of Barahin was sixteen,
his skill was unparalleled his eyes ever keen.
Durag had a fantasy to chase,
and his feet had the boon to pace.
He set out on a winter morning when the sky was clean,
to reach out to the lands unheard of and unseen.
He wandered in the vines of maize,
and into the joyous gayful place.

On a Wednesday when the dawn was rose,
were chilling winds but none were froze,
princess Serah set out with her pretty maids,
to secluded greens where never set raids.
She left the company in quest of a purple rose,
and towards Durag their footsteps close.
Clad in his chequered purple plaids,
she plucked what suited her thick long braids.

Thus met Durag and Serah in the East,
where was never known what is a beast.
They spoke long and bloomed affection,
not lust but a pure angel's resurrection.
And such a friendship bloomed into a feast,
that knew no wine nor bread nor yeast.
The night fell as a confection,
a day they penned into perfection.

But no sugar lasts in a kitchen of ants,
and theirs was not blessed nor thrown in grants.
Snaketongue soon knew what was in the woods,
that made the prince wander in his hoods,
he penned in malign ink the tale of lants,
and hissed to the king in silent rants.

The king endowed in him a royal trust,
and let it roast to ease the crust.
He cursed what was heavenly friendship,
and on his son laid a prisoner's whip.
Poor Durag suffered for a king ever must,
and let his feelings for her rust.

Sehar waited in the name of azure,
into an illness that none knew to cure.
Rotting in the shining white bed for long,
she waited for him and his welcome song.
But, her depression for death did lure,
and she met fate long before tenure.
And did Durag learn after months centuries long,
and his head was tempted to wrong.

The sword pierced through his red blood,
as it flushed and Durag did flood.
They met in heaven and lived forever well,
but not in the land where words were fell.
But from the earth had those two souls fled,
And into farther tombs were they led.

In the counsel of a poisonous snake,
a friendship withered for kingdom's sake,
a land where lives were put to stake,
and since then, never such did the God make.