Siege

Minds protected from new thoughts by ten-foot thick walls.
Ears with the newest selective-blocking systems, ideal for not listening to what you don't want to hear.
A complete arsenal, replete with insults meant to be compliments, maximum strength.
Archers ready at the window-slits, and boiling oil poised over the archways, God forbid any possibilities for change or progress should enter.
And what armour ! Steel-plated breastplates of Certified Good Intentions, and shields of Older Therefore Wiser.
And spears of God Wills It, when nothing of the sort has been indicated by divine communication.
And most important of all, the resolve of It's Always Been Done Just So.

Impregnable.

tomorrow

oh god. tomorrow.
there will be running and jumping and screaming.
there will be hoarseness and sportsmanship, and competition in unexected capacities.
there will be laughing, and rejoicing, at pointless things.
there will be numbers on a blackboard, growing or staying the same.
these numbers will determine the ebb and flow of emotions.
there will be racing pulses, and racing people, and cups and speeches and the victory stand.
as there always is.
it will be important.
it isn't, usually.

groan.

and then, relief.
no more running around, or shouldering myself into conversations, in desperate (and rather pathetic) emulation of the Fellow of Delicacy.
no more fiercely raging redness.
no more coaxing and bantering, no more being nice to pesky littles.
no more pushing myself, relentlessly ignoring reluctance.
no viciously pointful running and throwing and jumping.
a little higher, a little faster, a little better, you can do it.

after this, peace.
and doing things suitable.
ah.

today

people are going mad.
not the nice, loopy, us-sort-of mad.
a dangerous, boiling, menacing kind of mad.
the communal violence kind.
the hateful kind.
the scary kind.
they burn buses when they're like this.
people die when they're like this.
the world slows to a crawl, and plays every horrific moment in slow motion to drive it in when they're like this.

a little girl in a red coat stands while her world is swept away.
shots cry, people fall.
a pile of lifeless forms is pushed into a giant, burning pitfull.
a little red coat is visible, just for a moment, among them.
massacre.

i was hoping we had progressed from then.
but it's the same thing.
again and again.
humans prove they're not worth their own abilities.
shiver.

Crowdy

A crowded hall.
All push and rush and impatience.
She hesitates to step in.
To elbow her way to the counter
And wriggle through bodies to the stairs.
And argue for her seat inside.
She knows nobody.
She longs for the friendly arm.
The familiar voice.
Someone.
For when she steps inside
She fears not losing them,
But losing herself.

Pujo boredom

Terribly bored. Noone is ever posting anything during Pujo. I am only sitting at home and staring at silly computer screen. Rest everyone is partying and pandal-hopping, holidaying and binge-shopping.
I am not very exciting person. I sit, I sleep, I eat (combined effect of these is my appearance) and I sometimes laugh, sometimes cry. It is not helping though, the laughing or the crying. I am still here only. No change. No great and profound turnaround in general lifestyle, as is happening in the movies- heroine sits all by herself, hero comes to save her from self, both ride away into sunset after boisterous fight scene. I do not know whether I want such a filmi climax, but am halfway there already, I am thinking. Sitting alone, check. Looking like after fight scene, check (one red eye- don't even ask why) - only lacking is hero and riding off. The way I am seeing it going, if
hero does come, I will beat him up for lateness, steal his horse and leave him to be rescued by new-age emancipated woman in high-speed motorcar. They will zoom off into sunset, I will set horse free, and sit and be lonely all over again. That should teach such officious fool of a hero.
This is inevitable end. I am like that only, so end must be like that only. Much depends on heroine's character in these new-age emancipated movies and the days of Fairer Sex, Stronger Sex. Though Fair and Lovely Menz Activ may rob them of 'fairer sex' title soon.
In imagination, all this has been happening. Atleast there I am an exciting one. But that is also now finished, and I am back to square one. Perhaps square before one even, because now the idea has become khattam kahani.

Still bored.

Free again

The damned ordeal is over.

I've wandered the place now, my mind free from the desk and chair and monotonous textbooks, a whole pile of them now in the corner of the desk, edgily looking at me as though they don't know what I'll do and looking all tottery.
I'm past caring. I'm also past past caring. I'm currently wondering where that is. Wandering the house barefoot, looking at things, as though I'm just passing through. Right through them and everything, over to the other side. The other side of this fence, which is just the same side of the next fence, only I don't realise it yet, because I can't see the fence. so I keep jumping, like the silly sheep that never helped anyone to sleep, because they get so damned interesting- this one a bit fuzzy, but thin inside- you can tell- and the next one that does a hoppity-skip before taking the leap. And then there's the wondering about whether you should recycle them or make some new ones. And if you decide to recycle them, you can't remember what exactly they looked like before, and so they end up somehow different anyway.They really keep you awake, those damned sheep. I'm a sheep in the Chinese horoscopes, also known as a goat I believe. And the funny thing, the thing that keeps me awake most of all, is what the sheep are thinking. They're not really so silly when you hear that. Sometimes they're thinking what I'm thinking. Then I have a conversation with each one, and I don't ask them why they jump the fence. Such a boring question. I discuss things with them- musical preferences, and parakeets(such a colourful thought...) and whether they think being singular and plural at the same time is funny and silly or not. They're really very interesting, those sleep sheep, and they always leave me wide awake.
I am wide awake. It's just that my thought processes are so random and irregular that it's like being asleep. I wonder which it is more like, waking or sleeping. Not that it matters, though. I can do what I like now. Exams are done.

He's dead.