The change is only dynamic thing ever versed.

The change in inertia gives the birth to the force, I am no one to state it, it was stated by Newton in his first law. Weather the change of inertia or change of any notion , it drives to the new state of motion where by all the things around depict to be a little commotion.

With the start of the new decade, may be the most important one for all my peers, in which everyone wants to come out of the penultimate ordinate of educational year to the ultimate saga to end the educational endeavours to move into their new life of management jobs. What next, what next, question deprives the soul to work onto the present. If present fully lived, one will live the future too. I know its hard to work on today without thinking about future. Any how, I will not change the topic of writing by moving from one domain to another.

This article is more or less related to the new year stuffs, I know writing ” new year stuffs ” would lead a soul to the exited state of anger, as if the new year is also a drug.

This new year is giving no nouveau feeling, as it’s my 26th new year. Every thing is not same, I have changed from one order to the next order in the years following through. Every moment life turns up to teach you something new, and this changes you from me to me2. The idea of me2 could not be easily understood by my younger generation reader, me2 is the state when you, which is written as me here will grow in life to change his emotions to turn up into me2.

I have raised to the level of me2 in which I have plenty of things to do, first and foremost I am planning to get back to my work, the work for which I was known for. Not for the things which I do in the college these days, I am planning to go for a paradigm shift of looking at the things. The need of the hour is to complete my ” Search is on.” As I am quite sure that I may not get time to complete it in near future, after leaving this place, as we all have plenty of free time here. Why not use it. Writing daily article on my page will lead to the new practice and you may really realise that I am really of any level to pen down the fictional entity. The progress in language of English is quite great, in which the English is turned up into the Globish language which has taken many words from various other languages viz. French, German, Hindi, Sanskrit. So the chances of making an error of grammar is as low as zero.

The change is what we need to get into the life now. The change, which may change the changes of the change in the changeable panoramas of the human behaviour. As I have seen the only dynamic thing in the world is change.

Keep Changing, as change will change you for the changeable world.

पैसे कबूतर है

उड़ चाल देख इस पापी की

चील भी घबराया है

कोई नहीं यह उल्लू बाज यह

यह तो कबूतर बोखलाया है

पाप आतंक का नया चिन्ह यह

कबूतर ने बारूद उपज्वाया है

देख मेरे इस कबूतर को

कोई रात भर ना सो पाया है

जोड़ने की चेतनता इसको

लाखो घरो को उजड़वाया है

एक कबूतर जब उड़ा छत से

घर रो रो कर बौखलाया है

यही कबूतर मिला उस से

जिसने आतंक उपजाया है

झुण्ड मेरे इन कबूतर का

सब कुछ खरीद कर लाया है

कुछ छोटे दबके के लोगो ने

इसका मॉस भी खाना चाहा है

कौन आज तक इस मासूम को

अच्छे  से पचा पाया है

पच ना पाया यह चारे में

ना तेहलका सम्हाल पाया है

देख मेरे इस कबूतर की उड़ान

अचल विचल में सारा संसार

जहा देखा इस कबूतर ने हरा कबूतर वही

उस कबूतर की बस्ती में खुशहाल अपने को पाया है

पालने इस कबूतर को लोगो ने

क्या क्या कर पछताया है

कही किसी ने अपना लाल

तो कही मिलाप उजड़वाया है

Correct Your Grammar

The renaissance of y2k9. A literary story of an author, the author who knows no grammar and sometimes he is short of words. He plays with the pen, rarely put some ink on piece of a paper. Depicting knowledge of unamiable soul without any mould on this paper seems a though job, because this author knows no grammar. Why present particle is associated with tenses and why gerunds are there before a verb. All questions are beyond the scope of writting. Writing your imagination never ponders about the mistakes because of grammar.

Writting is more of a feel rather than a verb or a tense. One who stops writting because of his poor grammer is surely suffering from paranoia. Pronounciation, spellings, hymonyms error; what these could lead to the written article.

Earlier I was bad with grammer, english usage; after coming to this hectic life , I think I am lacking in emotions too. The deteroited emotions, no persona satifaction are some of the special trait of this life. Neither I improved my grammar nor did I got some thought feelings. Thats why my blog page is of less content now a days.  I got a direction but I pray to god that this direction must not be very similar to Hwang Ho. Ups and downs, ebbs and tides, go in tandem with this life.

The evacuation of the life from writting to non writting phase in an MBA college was never in my mind. When I had nothing to do in life, I had thousands of emotions on which I could write. But now when I have lots of things to do in life, I don’t have much thought flow from my mind on which I could write another post. Just for the sake of making  a post in the blog page is not the exact meaning of a blog entry. It is something else, what is this.. this question is still penetrating in my mind.

I miss my days of writting, along with a cup of tea in winter nights. Nights of solitary confinement with hundreds of books. I am leading a misdirectional life, with lotf of subjective things to do without an objective.

Welcome to the new Gothic world

Organization Behaviour ( Behavior, american spell); Marketing Management, International Trade Operations, and hell of waste things. What you want to make me.  An MBA or an agglomerated mixture of loads of shit.

Yes, Yes… I am talking about my new life, life in a B-school. 10 subjects in a trimester ( each trimester is of just 3 months ), hell of assignments, atleast 10 presentations to give, every subject have 3 papers, that are two mid terms and one final. New people, new adjustments, newer subjects. Accounts after Mechanical Engineering sounds interesting.

This gothic culture of a B school is not new, and one more thing is that that I am not making any complaints about anything. The tastiest food, the mess food, eventually in a sardonic attitude and the things which could take the nerves round is that people even don’t understand the meaning of gregarious. Use such words, class will laugh, don’t know why. I am a level below their gothicity and level up their gothicity, I urgently have to use an electric guitar for, may be, an hour to come out of this emotional trauma.

The moments of life are going very very slow, but eventually they are running and ruining the very slow time, which is abiding by. The colors under the sun misses the color of feelings and stagnations.

The ” search is on”* , the friends, maa, guitar; everything is out of the life. The wrangler style of life, the crux of life was never to sit and get absorbed in the semi permeable emotions of life.

Add: * Search is on is the name of a fictional stuff, which could hit the market very soon, I have penned down.

This gothic world has got some slow moments from me too, as I am also the new part of this gothic life of an MBA culture.  I hate being the love of this gothic world. This world loves to hate the beings who speak less and thinks more for nothing. This world only gives the memories, memories of … of …. , some silent fillers are much more than a said speech, sometimes very obviously.

Living and succeeding in this corporate world is same as learning to play guitar, and when one dwells oneself in the rock of it, it’s very hard for anyone to take out anyone from this gothic world of corporate and guitar.

The Dull Summers

The lives of leaves

the petels of sunbeans

the dirt on sleeves

The white becomes yellow

everything is dull and so silent.

The Dull summers are giving

some weird life full of agony

and pain.

The mirage could be easily seen

on the charcoals of this road.

Everything is seen with

error of humanity

The error in humanity

and the error of being a human.

The Dull Summers

with the pale in hail

the fragrance of soil

The birds have reduced

making chirps

Everyone is tending to go dizzy

except this sun and this sandeep.

The Dull Summers

making everything virtual.

It seems somebody is standing under the tree

somebody is screaming someone’s name.

Whiskies are changed into beers.

Whispering is changing into screams

in this dull summers.

Gap Between consecutive posts.

Hi,

Wishing you all a Happy Holi. My new post after 11th December 08 and today is 10th March 09 . Approx a gap of 3 months among the two consecutive posts.

Actually this life usually gives you a problem in terms of gynos. And there is an illuminated war among my head and soul and that is my head thinks that I am philogynist and soul thinks I am misogynist. It’s a state of war that every one has to take, the war between the uncertain thinking of heart and head, even Einstein did so and I am no Einstien and there is simply no rocket science available in this visionary world to come out of it.

What I did in those three long months, I read 3 books:

1) The Secret by Rhonda Bryne

2) Handbook for Writers by Lynn Quitman Troyka

3) My India, The Eternal India by Swami Vivekananda.

Other problem was that I was working in HP, and didn’t got the hell of time out of office. After office and reading books and newspapers, you can’t think of writting stuff. I tried it many times. But never came out with any good stuff so that I could publish it on my page.

Well I would try to write more and will try that “Search is on” would be completed/published in this year.  * ” Search is on ” is the name of the book, what I planned to write, a fictious stuff. I promise that book ( if released ) would not break even the records of Manorama, you might be aware of Manorama, the six Feet Under. Well, it was none of mistake of Abhay Deol in that movie, if anybody could have a wife like Gul Panag, who the hell would think of writting, I won’t dare to come out of bed, if I will get a wife like Gul Panag. Isn’t she Sexy.

Anyways, I did talked of hell of waste things in the come back post, would not make you to pull your hairs out of your head. It’s more than suffice, I guess.

Coming Back to Life  in form of Guitar, Love and Writting.

With Regards

Sandeep Sinha

BAk Bak Apne college ki.

Hai liye apni hi Bakar, dushman taak me baitha udhar!
Aur hum taiyar hai KINNOO apna liye idhar!!
Bakar se khelenge holi gar Mudita mushkil me hai!
BakFaroshi ki tammanna aab hamare dil me hai!!
Chehre jinme ho junoon nahi roke kisi ke rokne se!
din mein thake hum,to raat raat jaag ke lage bakar mein hain
Aur bhadkega jo josh hamare dil me hai!
BakFaroshi ki tammanna aab hamare dil me hai!!
Hum to ghar se nikle hi the padhne le daakhila!
raastein mein hi kurbaan ho gaya bakar par
shabd to apne mehaman, bakar ke mehafil me hai!
Bakfaroshi ki tammanna aab hamare dil me hai!!
Jahan diye UP jaise bakar, LAV kiye inklaab hain
Chaurasia , Daksh aaye, dekho yeh bakar-e-junnon mein hain
shabd kaate, gaane tode, angrezi inki jeb mein hain
bakfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hain
vicky lsey basu motu bheje baahar,
kehte sab dharm, desh bakar ke hisse mein hain;
kyun chhod de unko bhi, jo hamare apne hain;
Bakfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamare dil mein hain

Dedicated to NC hostellers … 2007 Batch …

Happy Bakar Bakar … along with chai, sutta and daaru ….

The Grievances of memory

Sometimes memories are so tangible that you can almost touch them. At other times memories stay like a blur somewhere in the recesses of your mind. Yet they are safe. Safe from prying eyes, safe from vagaries of time, safe from you and me, indeed…..

Last night I dreamt of you

The bed tea is on the table with newspaper over my quilt. I am fully traped and packed in quilt. Its 9:30 A.M, I am still lying on the bed, tea turned up in iced tea, because of the sheer cold winds. I am out of the sleep, but not out of the dream. I got the severe irritation while sleeping because of my dream, and after that I am lying on my bed in the same position from past 4 hours and not in any mood to read the newspaper and not even in mood to take my bedtea. Thinking, pondering again and again for that silly thing, and time machine is running like the torment, causing problems and only problems.

Its now 11:30, everything is at the same stage as it was 2 hour before. Quilt, tea, newspaper and me everything was static in the room and the only dynamic thing was the minute and hour hand of the time machine, running alone in a marathon from past thousands of years in the same manner, even though not finished the race yet. My eyes were wide open and inside quilt everything was dark and black. The dream was a misconduct of all pathetic emotions out of soul, a true jeopardy for the life and the emotions were all conquered by the frightedness.

The silence of the room was all distubed by the stupid fone and it created lot of hullabaloo in the silent arena after the dream. I didnt dared to pick the fone and finally got some courage to pick it up, after 4 consecutive rings.

” Hello ! ” I said in a very cynical tone.

” Get ready and come soon. ” A voice, somewhat known.

” Who the hell is this and why you want me to come and where ?” and I switched off the fone back.

And this is the story of today morning and I decided to yell that dreams are just dreams and they don’t have anything to do with the real life. The worse dreams are not true.

With few yawns yesterday night, I slept arround 2 AM and soonly or lately I recognised myself as the member of National Geographic Channel, and working in Egypt on some project. With my team mates as my freinds, one of my good freind “ABCD” was even working in the project and I decided to tell her on this Valentine’s day, how much I love her, and I was about to say something, but she killed me and I am all covered with blood and on verge of death, with some final breathes.

She came near me and said, ” I killed you, because you killed me few years back, in the very same manner, that is by hitting a hammer on head. Dont get confused, I am not talking of this life. You killed me like this in past life, when you was king and I was a common poor girl of the town. You was in love with me and saw me with your soldier, and did’nt accepted ours love and assissinated us. “

The very last words of me were,” Well, I was not in love with you, I am still in love with you and this is the time I am leaving the world and wish you all luck for the future and I guess that soldier is yours current boy freind. But, I will come back soon and I believe in REINCARNATION and my love for you is not for a day or two. If not possible in this life, then no problem for me I will be back.”

The dream was drastic and the impact put me in solitary confinement. I am speechless from morning and the call I recived was of a very known but still I can’t properly recognise the name of the caller. Might be he was that soldier. Whoever he was, but the dreams in mornings are somewhat real and they usually happen to you in life.

 

The Impeccable Valentine

14th Feb … A day designated for the lovers,a Oxymoron statement I think. When one is in love, then S/he will not seek for any day, as called the day for love birds.( The Valentine’s Day )

Let me validate the day for loving your partner, the best time to love him/her in a year, starts from 1st jan to 31st Dec of the same year. All days are same for me, and valentine’s day is simply beyond of my thinking and there is no paranormal justification for the day, that you have to love your cupid on the particular day. I work 24*7 and love her in a juxtapostion, and believe me if I stop doing so, I may not be able to write more.

I think Love knows no season, no reason, no comparison, no elison. Just flow with it, like a ubiquitious imagination, pander the emotions in the panorama. Fly with it, live with it, dream with it.

But let me do a formallity, by saying Happy Valentine’s Day. But believe me my life is a monotone, which utterly need your presence as soon as it could be, in my world of love and thats what I will call the Impeccable Valentine.