I am eternally special

Since this is my first prose and owing to the lack of any constructive ideas in my stagnated brain, I decided to write about something that no one knows better than me – Myself. A single, one-word description about me is that I’m special.

I’ll just take a moment to pause and let all the smirks, snickers and frowns to gradually give way to that inescapable quality we human beings are naturally blessed with – curiosity.

Pause.

Okay, now that I have your attention, I’ll resume. Before you have any preconceived notions about having to see some PJs about me being special because of my name (which, by the way, is not unique. A google search resulted in at least 4 people with my name) or PAN ID or even my college roll number. Neither has the conclusion about the title of this post resulted from an arrogance or high-handedness from my end. I have reached the conclusion from a simple application of an often found complex mathematical concept called probability.

I decided to take some common aspects of life and see how I fit in there before calculating the probability of other people in the world with the same fit. So here are my reasons for my inevitable conclusion:

·         I am an Indian

·         I have spent roughly 84% of my life in a post-liberalized India.

·         I have studied in 9 schools across India, including my current one

·         I am a vegetarian

·         My music interests include both Pink Floyd and Mukesh.

·         I have seen both Mulholland Drive (arguably one of the most complex movies ever made) and Marigold (arguably one of the dumbest movies ever made. Actually, inarguably)

·         My favorite cricketer happens to be Rahul Dravid (not Sachin Tendulkar!) and my favorite tennis player happens to be Nadal (not Federer!)

·         I do not follow the English Premier League (err…EPL, you don’t say the full name)

·         I have spent more time in trains than in flights and cars put together

·         My only visit outside India has been Sri Lanka

·         I still owned a desktop when I turned 25

·         My desktop was cheaper than my speakers

·         At no point in my life, did I own more than 3 wearable jeans

·         At no point in my life, has my weight crossed 70

·         I have read both the Famous Five series and War and Peace

·         I have had more accidents than the number of vehicles I have owned

·         On a side note, I do not have a driver’s license

·         I have had the fortune of working on both Logo as well as Flex

·         I have had the good fortune of seeing Tehqiqaat and Chandrakanta, as well as the misfortune of seeing CID and MTV Roadies

·         My favorite actor is Paresh Rawal (SRK’s not even close!)

A rough estimation of the gross probabilities of people having the same fit comes to around 0.00000000002, which translates to 1 in 50 billion people. The current world population is a little more than 7 billion. So for me to lose my special stature, would require 100 billion people, roughly 14 times the current world population. With the current growth and death rates, it would take another 3875 years before that’s possible (assuming Earth can sustain the weight of 100 billion people).

Therefore, I can safely assume I am eternally special!

Wishes...

The road keeps meandering away,
The storm holding me at bay,
Leaves of life blowing astray,
All I can do is pray...

The Stranger's smiling at me,
His wicked eyes I feebly see,
Stinging me with His stubborn rope,
All I can do is hope...

The Friend fades to black,
His voice is just an audible crack,
I see His blessings burn,
All I can do is yearn...

Thoughts swimming against the rough sea,
What is...What's meant to be?
The Stranger snickers hard at me,
The Friend solemnly stares at me,

The light's dimming...darkness galore,
The cloud's thickening...the skies roar,
Holding a leaf with solemn pride,
I fling it to the other side...

Flickering lights

The dark envelope stretches long before him,
The road's straight, the lights dim,
His voice drowns in the blaring song,
The mind's fuzzy, the spirit's strong.

He ponders, a look of restless concern,
The road meanders ahead, a slight turn,
The zooming cars pass him in a flash,
Flickering lights...don't be so rash...

He stares blankly...the fight with his girl,
An exchange of words, the ugly twirl,
The time to think, the unknown beyond,
Flickering lights...the shattered bond?

His body feels warm, an illusion of ease,
The wind's chilly now...the dense trees,
The words of his mind, an illegible font,
Flickering lights...what do you want?

His pulse is fast, the steering's fickle,
The movie of his past...a soothing tickle,
The end's uncertain, a fading gleam?
Flickering lights...what's your dream?

The hands freeze, The turn begins,
The trees replace the road, the car spins,
The medics arrive, their faces grim,
Flickering lights...can you save him?

Her First Song

As the silent river, she gently flows,
Her rhythmic waves echo softly,
As the sparkling dew, she radiantly glows,
Her quiet drops beat calmly.

Her words are crystal clear
As she speaks her heart out,
She has no vice to fear,
As she speaks of her own doubts.

She stops to catch her breath,
As the walls resonate her voice,
She signals the stop's death,
As she slowly breaks the ice.

The passer-byes stand still.
As she whispers into their ears,
She has a wish to fulfill,
As she overcomes her own barriers

As the words end, she smiles,
The river ceases to flow,
She's ready for the trial,
As she completes her show.

Shaky ground

The ground sprawled before his tiny eyes,
Echoing with the sounds of his childish cries,
The ground had space, the child had time,
Together, they swayed in this timeless rhyme.

The man walks the dim-lit hallway,
Thoughtful eyes, mind in play
The closed walls echoing his silence,
Time was scarce, his ground - tense.

The flurry of cool breeze in his hair,
The expressions of unthought care,
The playful stings of the ground,
In pain, joy was easily found.

The man sips the bland coffee,
Poisoned by the futile work spree,
His face reflects his somber tale,
Helplessly bound in his own jail.

Time passes by like epic prose,
The ground shrinks, the child grows,
The theory of evolution wins,
An age ends, another begins.

The new ground came up fast,
A stark shadow of its past,
The space was small, emotions nil,
And His happy world became stony still.

Fly High

The music's booming in your ears,
Blaring loud like your skimpy dress,
The cheers with overflowing beers,
Your brain, they shall together caress.

The light's capering in myriad hues,
Flickering fast like your blurry eyes,
The wobbly legs in expensive shoes,
Your mind slowly turning to ice.

The heads beating in rhythmic motion,
Shaking hard like your stomach fluids,
The frenzied body in fiery commotion,
Your mouth spurting the smelly fluids.

Hands clasped around unknown waists,
Long hair scattered on young faces,
Periodic kisses with alcoholic tastes,
Your pulse nervously races.

Brash laughter and fake smiles,
Hideous tattoos and navel rings,
Tripping down in dramatic style,
Your heart quietly stings.

Fly high, boy, for it's your reign,
Fly high, girl, for it's your cash,
Fly high, for it's your drain,
Fly high, for it's a cursory flash.

The Knell Song

It was a gray day in Autumn,
When the trees were all solemn,
When the sun lost it's light,
When...their day became night.

The leaves lay yellow on the streets,
The birds lost their cacophonous greets,
The black dog sobbed on the grey wall,
Their number had just become small...

The brown grass lost their rainy shine,
In barren grounds idling like rusty shrines,
The concrete towers radiated dark shadows,
Their tears...their grass-less meadows...

The vultures' mouths were all red,
The dying crow stared with a half-head,
The western breeze lost it's voice,
Their hopes...their unchosen choice...

The distant church bells silently rang,
The skies watered, the swan sang,
The priest quietly spoke his words,
They closed their eyes, vision blurred,
Hands clasped, they recited a final prayer,
As the coffins were lost under the sandy layer.