Sunday, April 30, 2006


humming in the dark alleys of my ear, layne keeps conveying a subtle message that i haven't been able to understand.. it goes like this

Be what you wanna be, see what you wanna see
Been what you wanna be, I dont like what i see...
Like the coldest winter chill,
Heaven beside you and hell within...

what i really dont understand is that there was nothing called myself until now.. the figure called myself has to be constructed from the very atomic level and will only be defined based on what i will be sometime from now.. until now this word called myself has only been a plan, a template, an unseen set of routines which has been fed in with all the necessary ingredients or inputs just about ready to be pushed into the phase of execution.. all the so called efforts of the previous toil filled years are supposed to bear fruits now and things are supposed to fall into place from now.. or thats what people think..
The pundits believe that the human system is so analogous to a machine.. plan it meticulously from age 1 to 5, start analysing and designing the components from age 5 to 20, continuously keep testing the system by subjecting it to stress, and finally get it to be ready to solve some specific query by the age of 20 or so.. It is so taken for granted that once this stage is reached, all that matters is that the right data if input, positive and to a certain extent correct results are guaranteed... for the next 40 years, the machine is expected to motor along, if maintained by comforts like a healthy salary, a good fuck, delicious food, the odd booze and so on...
'Like a well oiled machine'..
An exception to this thumb rule is the machines called 'myself'.. this machine, like the others has been meticulously planned and the right components of geography, history, science, language, math, art, music, blah blah blah have been embedded, tested under some stressful conditions from which it has came out successfully with flying colours.. AGED 20 the machine is ready to be sent to the customer who has ordered for this masterpeice.. All according to plan, until one night the machine lyin idle in the factory suddenly starts using its own brain... until now it was all constructed by someone else's intellect but now this dormant brain, suddenly becomes active.. The brain inside myself, or anyone is considered by the designers as a massive threat.. but then, myself's designers made the mistake of not supressing it like how the others have been doin to countless other machines.. negligence on their part i must say.. and this was all that was needed for the prince inside to wake up.. with all the readymade food inside, a delicious meal was cooked in the brainkitchen.. the whole system inside was ruptured and a new state of the art monument was beginning to be constructed.. and this took just some few months or just days..
It is no longer the puristic machine.. just a complicated screwed up non deterministic infinite automaton, as you can see typing things noone else would give a thought to...


Sunday, April 23, 2006

My Epitaph!!

If only I could carry my happiness to my grave
If only I could re-live all those memories, i could save
If only I could touch and feel, the ones so near
If only I could shed along with them, that mournful drop of tear
If only I could open my eyes, to see who really care
If only I could feel their sorrows, their worries if i could bear
If only tomorrow was just another day
If only I could be there, If only I could stay
A tap on my back, sent a chill down my spine
A dark shadow covered, hardly a good sign
Twas the devil, sporting a scornful laugh
Tellin me to extend my arms and write my own epitaph