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College Park, Maryland, United States
Elusive by choice.


The Damsel In Despair

Riding down the highway
I see her standing in all her pride.
From a distance i notice her majestic stride.
Attracted by her, towards her I ride.

Getting closer the apparition dawns,
Standing ahead is a distraught damsel torn.
Her shambles tell a story forelorn
of times good and bad she's borne.

I look in her eyes, those beautifull brown delight;
Would have commanded once, an army without respite.
Now she hides them with shame and despise.
She looks here and there with humbling spite.

That scarless face in its majesty she beholds
Standing the test of time it beckons me towards;
With pity and compassion i approach her, hands cold
to offer alms and a prayer of solicitude.

She looks up, her pride unmistaken.
Smiles and refuses that i had given.
And utters to my surprise the cuckoo voice-
"Not alms I beg for, nor I seek your prayer,
My condition lay be, for its caused by my own vice."

To this i stood wondering
How can something as beautifull come to err
She shows me the box and unravels the mystery
Ahead stood Pandora, regretting the mistake she dint foresee.

She blamed herself for the misery,
For all the ills, Of human deviance and indulgence,
And the unseen that ought to bereave man of peace and humanity.

Unsure of what to say, i utter a word or two of solace
"With all evils released the box still holds hope within;
In spite of all the ills we still have hope to live with.
If not, there would be no reason for us to exist."


Between Sexes

They had only met and he was into her. Her number was on Facebook. He decided to flirt a bit; he would go for the scare.

“I know what you did last summer.” He texted. “How do you know about the operation?” read the reply.

In hindsight, he did figure she had a husky voice.


RIP (Religion, Identity and Politics)

This piece is inspired by what some may refer to as “Existential Angst”. George Carlin would sarcastically dismiss his thoughts on such as the “things that prevent me from making any real progress in life”. Well, someone has to address them. They are perhaps as irrelevant to our lives as social responsibility. Yet we prophesize, partake and make an attempt to keep our efforts visible.

The first stream of thought stems from a recent lecture on Market movers. We learnt the importance of first, second and third movers in the market scenario. Third movers turning the market into purely competitive and hence commoditizing products made me reflect on which market of scale was the first victim of third movers. I figured religion would make the cut. Most religions emphasize on same or similar dogmas while suggesting varied paths of attainment. Logical differentiators such as paths are necessary in pure competition.  This should have, in turn, implied that the consumers, the believers, would have a low switching cost and would derive the same satisfaction from any religion. However, the high profile market was too promising to allow such feasibility. The ones we now call “hardliners” were bred with ill construed directives to protect the market interests. The result- a radical intolerant world. Strangely, it also set a precedent for the current trend of competitive markets turning into oligopolies.

It would be unfair to end our discussions on religion without venturing a bit into “personal identity”. In the current context I find the two words being an oxymoron. Identity is not who you are anymore. Identity is a reflection of your religion, location, race, gender, orientation and other complex variables; or that is what you are made to believe. It seems more feasible to categorize a person by his “Identity” than to actually know him for who he is. The process is quite logical, with the lack of time and evanescent encounters. There is also a risk of deception and exploitation to consider. The easy path would be to ask a few questions regarding his “identity” and viola, an analyst in your head transcribes a judgment based on your knowledge, or ignorance. In an era whose jargon begins and culminates with “social networking”, gaping holes appear as the network is stretched wider and thinner.

Moving along to more relevant issues, the uprising in Egypt is being credited with a stature similar to the renaissance. The internet abounds with aspirations of similar nationalistic activities. Some are fighting dictatorships, while others, corruption and poverty. The thin networks have proven to uphold such movements. What they lack is result orientation. Egypt is still under military administration. A past evil has been uprooted from the throne while a new evil is looming large. The world is standing by, rooting for the underdog that goes by the name of democracy. The democracies are contemplating similar strategies to end corruption. The whole world is fighting for perfect governance. But when would the world open its eyes to “Power Corrupts” and realize that there is no such thing as “perfect governance”. The only possible outcome is a short-term compromise that would be exploited again, challenged again and reached again.

The views here might border on pessimism. Maybe the ones calling it “existential angst” are right. Probably it is a symptom of the newly identified “quarter life crisis”. I have reached a quarter of a lifetime, with a sizeable chunk, being ignorant to the world and its ways. The sudden awakening seems to have hit hard. Perhaps ignorance was bliss. Perhaps denial would be the new bliss. Nirvana transcends from detachment to ignorance and denial.


Hazel Eyes

Hazel eyes
I love the color
In your eyes
They make me wonder
And I find myself lost in you.

Hazel Eyes
At times brown
like sweet chocolate
ofttimes green
emeralds shining
And they hold in them all that dew.

You can see
World's true beauty
Days and nights
with splendid twilights
And I will spend my life with you.

Hazel eyes
I see confusion
In your eyes
see my reflection
And I tell you my love is true.



The Spade

If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably have far less friends than I do
If I were to insult their intelligence
I would surely end up with none at all.

The Spade
If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably have to watch my back all the time
If I were to showcase my superiority
I would surely have a spade in my back.

If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably be castigated
If I were to make an enemy of the world
I would surely be alienated for life

If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably be truthful to myself
If I were to lack the discretion (hypocrisy)
I would surely defile my own self.

If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably not know the beauty of words
If I were to be brash in my opinion
I would surely disregard the worth of sarcasm.

If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably never have things to hide
If I were to be such an open book
I would surely have nothing to mystify.