Like A String

Both ways I’m pulled,

From both sides caught

Pulled like a string

Stretched out taut.

Both sides I’m needed,

To help set right,

To lend some help,

To them in their plight.

One a friend,

The other a lover,

And don’t ever want,

Either to suffer.

Yet to set one right,

To the other I may,

Unwittingly cause,

Harm some way.

So stretched out tight,

Trying to balance it all,

I feel like from a tightrope,

I've entered free fall.

Scattering to the wind,

This way and that,

The doubts in me,

Are deeper than that.

For when I myself,

Am falling apart,

How do I help them?

Where and with whom do I start?

Another old poem, from the first/second semester era. Don't know why I never posted any of these at that time.

Perhaps I was too busy lamenting my fate, or something like that. :P

Paagal Times: Hostel Mess' Unusual Dietary Supplements

Recent posts by students on Facebook have brought to light a disturbing new trend in the Hostel Messes: Presence of live insects (and even dead ones at times) in the Mess food. Shocked and disgusted, many students feel reluctant to eat there now and have taken to filling their stomachs at the Nescafe points, the Gazebo and by raiding the rooms of known those (un)fortunate people who keep themselves well stocked with food items; the number of which, as a result, have fallen drastically. However, these desperate measures are not as fulfilling as proper food and tend to be rather heavy on the pockets leading to an increase in dissent within the student body.

Yet certain analysts say that this anger and angst is misplaced. Insects, as some nerds know, are basically crawling sources of protein. Many tribal cultures are known to rely on insects as a staple source of food, proteins in particular. Thus, our analysts conclude, this presence of insects in the food, rather than being a sign of a lapse in hygiene control in the Mess kitchens may actually be a carefully planned move to add some much needed nutrition to food which is usually severely lacking in this respect. 

Some other factions also put this presence of ‘live food’ down to a possible Star Trek connection. They believe that some Star Trek fan-boys amongst the Mess staff may have come up with the idea of introducing this (unwanted) supplement to the regular food in an attempt to create an imitation of the diet of the Klingon* race, a fierce warrior race whose most famous dish is ‘Kaarrgh’ (fan boys, please forgive this incorrect attempt to phonetically spell out the dish name) which consists of live worms and other insects, hoping to instil a certain degree of the same fierceness and fitness in our VIT-C students.

The probability of it being the latter case, however, is highly doubtful in light of certain information passed on to us by one of our sources close to the Mess staff. As per this information these occurrences were part of a plan of gradually introducing these supplements in the normal mess food, but due to the severely negative student reactions the plan may be pulled for review.


*If you don't know who or what a Klingon is, you probably haven't seen Star Trek so don't worry yourself. But if you have and still have no clue... well, words fail to describe my disappointment in you. :P

Paagal Times: Campus Goes CATatonic

17th Feb 2013

This weekend, a blanket of silence seems to have fallen over the premises of the Boys Hostel of VIT-Chennai (excepting the 14th floor) and those people, usually normal (by campus standards) have begun to act in mysterious ways. Our correspondents, and the 14th floor denizens, however, have still not fallen under the influence of whatever it is that is causing this strange phenomenon.

Curious as to the cause of all this and just how widespread this illness is, our brave reporters embarked on a life-threatening, exam-defying investigation from floor to floor of the hostel building, going so far as to put even their insanity at risk (yes, you read that right) to get to the bottom of the matter; and what they found after all this severe toil was bizarre and mind-boggling beyond belief.

CAT. Yes, this three letter word which we first heard in Nursery and KG, when the entire class would chant 'A for apple, b for ball, c for CAT...', and have encountered so often ever since either in text or in the physical manifestation of all it describes, is said to be the cause of this mess*. Surprised? Well, so were we, and it took us fifteen minutes to get our eyebrows back in place and our jaws disengaged from their 'you've got to be kidding me' position and continue with our investigation. We dismissed this initial report as a poorly disguised attempt at misinformation and decided to try more reliable sources (read: parents). Yet even this line of investigation soon faltered, the only useful information we gained from it being the following excerpt from our conversation with one of the many Aunties who prefer to remain anonymous, and unassociated with their progeny:

 ...

Paagal Times (PT):  Kya aap humein kuch bata sakte hain ki aapke bete ke is ajeeb bartauv ka karand kya hai?

(Can you tell us what is the cause of your son's strange behaviour?)

Aunty (A): Arre beta, kash kuch bata paati. Mujhe bhi kuch nahi pata!

(Oh Son, I wish I could tell you something. Even I don't know anything!)

PT: Par aapko kuch to andaaza hoga hi. Usne kabhi aap se kuch kaha hoga jisse...

(But you must have some idea. He may have said something, sometime which may...)

A: Arre haan! Ek bar kuch cat-shat^ kar raha tha. Lagta hai ki hostel waapas jaa kar kuch billy-villy ka zyaada hi shauk chadh gaya hai usse.

(Oh yes! This one time he kept going on about some cat-shat. Looks like he's got a new fascination for cats after returning to the hostel.)

...

Now there were only two conclusions we could draw from this: First, the misinformation campaign was also extended to the parents and thus our only other source had been rendered useless or, second, maybe there was something more to the word cat than we'd initially thought, perhaps it was a code word for something more significant. Either way, it left us with only one possible life of action: Investigate the hostel further. And so we did.

Digging further, the identity of this mysterious cat was getting more muddled and confused if anything. Was it the code name for some new heart breaker on campus, who, awakened from her slumber by the Woh-Waala Day celebrations, was out on a rampage, breaking hearts by the hundreds? Very possible. Yet then how had our keen-eyed reporter Hawk-Eye Kapur not noticed her yet?

Was it then a codename for some  new depressing hostel or campus rule? Unlikel, for the 14th floor would also have been affected for sure!

Or, more terrifyingly, was it the one and only Common Admission Test that these poor souls were referring too? The very thought sent us into a near catatonic state*^, for it would mean that in the campus we humans would soon turn into a minority amidst a majority of gadhas^* (donkeys). And thus this had the truest ring to it amidst all the other possibilities, for one of the greatest minds in our history, Murphy, had once proclaimed: 'Out of all the available possibilities, the one that is the most terrifying shall be the most probable one', or something to that effect.

It was at this moment, when our team was near collapse from sheer shock and our chief editor was but about to dial the Chettinad Hospital emergency response number, that we got our big break. Having accidentally staggered into a topper's room, one reporter caught a glimpse of the words 'Continuous Assessment Test' on the laptop screen before the topper could hide it.

That one glance was enough, utilizing his quick analytical skills, our reporter deduced that perhaps this was the mysterious cat that had everyone on tenterhooks.

Our team, now revived, hunted this lead down and, following a series of breakthroughs, finally tracked this CAT down to its point of origin, which was none other .

Apparently this CAT is but the first of two such trials planned to 'test the student's mettle', says the official line. However, another member of those-who-must-not-be-named told us, off the record, that it was actually a twice a semester move to get some 'much needed peace and quiet, and decency on campus' which usually isn't available with the entire crowd of 'rowdy lads' and lasses running about and making noise, or out as it
were.
_________________________________________________________________________________.
Footnotes:

*This mess is the one that refers to problems/trouble. Not to be confused with the North/South/Special Mess.

^Sorry, couldn't resist. :p

*^You see what we did there? CATatonic. Clever, right? ;) :P :D

^*Those who didn't get the '3 Idiots' reference: there's no hope for you. -_-

Tired (Alternate: Try)

I'll call no more

No more will I try

To be better than I am

No more should you sigh

About things I do, the words I say

The sad times I made you cry.

No, my love, I'm tired now

So no more am I going to try.

You're free from me, this pestilence

This disturbance of your peace of mind.

Go, my love, live your life,

No more need you try

To comprehend this beast

To accept him, forgive him

For his transgressions

His awkwardness of being and mind.

His mistakes are many and,

Too hard to straighten out,

Or to even forgive in time,

But try to understand, my love,

Loving you was my only crime.

The rest are but by-products

Of this heart's defective production line.

NOTE: I feel that this is again one of the worse off pieces I've written as I haven't really thought it through, and writing it in a fit of passion I'm just stringing along words I find along the main sentiment behind this one.

Paagal Times: MTC's Population Control Measures

A recent study has revealed that the beautiful, 'idyllic' city of Chennai has left behind most other Indian cities in the field of innovative population control measures, courtesy the MTC. This has led certain parts of society to demand celebrations and even awards for the MTC top brass for bringing home these laurels.

India's population is rising rapidly, despite several moves by successive governments to check it, and will pose a major problem in terms of strain on land resources in the near future. Hence the need of the hour is to find more efficient ways of utilising land and, more importantly, finding methods to reduce/control the population growth.

Different leaders have had different approaches to this problem but the most innovative and effective method, that only requires readily available resources is the one proposed by the MTC, not so much in words as in action. The best part? It doesn't require much from the medical sector, if anything at all.

Buses, as we all know, are an essential feature of most major Indian cities. These vehicles make for cheap and convenient transportation for the working masses, and usually cover an appreciably large area of a city in terms of transport provision. However, they are also notorious for being one of the most dangerous road species any driver has to deal with, often being the cause of, or being involved in, accidents, some even fatal. Cities like Delhi and Bangalore have rather dismal track records in this regard having an fatal accident ratio of 0.0118 and 0.012 per bus (in 2012), respectively.

It is here that the MTC brass came up with their innovative solution: Why not use buses to enable proper population control? This on-going project, started at some point in the distant past, is slowly gaining momentum. This is made evident in last year's statistics where the efficiency of the MTC buses was noticeably more than those of the buses from India's National, IT and even Finance capitals! Compared to the relatively high values (with respect to Mumbai) of 0.0118 and 0.012 fatal accidents per bus (Delhi and Bangalore), the MTC's figure of 0.028 is in a different ball park all together.

When asked about this little known project and the relevant statistics, a senior staff member, who wishes to remain anonymous, told us, with no small amount of pride, that this was but the beginning of a golden era in population control, headed by none other than the MTC. He was exceptionally proud off the fact that the efficiency of Chennai buses was almost three times that of any of the other city's buses and soon, he hopes, "Chennai will be another one of the nations numerous capitals, the bus-accident capital".

When asked about the secret behind this stellar achievement by the MTC drivers he told us that the drivers were always encouraged to watch and imitate the F1 stars whenever possible, "and we even have a few Schumachers of our own" he gushed, while Hollywood movies were another added inspiration to any of the English speaking drivers. Another rule that helps is the Rule of 40 as per which the drivers are supposed to driver above the speed of 40 kmph whenever and wherever possible.

"However, our drivers also enjoy the natural advantage of being Tamil after all, we have more than enough inspiration to overachieve." he added. When asked if he'd like to elaborate a bit he had but one word to say: Tollywood.

Promise (impromptu)

Promise you I could, but this:

I am and will be

Nothing but who I am, Truly

When around you.

That I would make you laugh

As well as make you cry

Brighten up your day at times

Yet att others,Be a cloud

In your blue sky.

That I'll amuse you no end,

Yet frustrate you as well

That I'd love you always,

Yet be a jerk too at times.

That I'll talk to you softly

Calm you,

And help fight off your fears.

Yet also, at times,

I'll be, the reason for your tears.

For I am but me,

But I'll try to grow

Better, each day.

I'll try to make you smile,

Listen to the words you say.

Yet be deaf at times

Be cool and hard,

 like a statue of stone or clay.

But these words I believe

Now come too late.

This is the promise to you

I should have originally made.

For now, you've left,

Disappointed in me.

Perhaps too far away

To clearly see

These words for you

That I spontaneously do write

As I sit up awake

In the middle of the night.

Lost in nostalgia

Remembering Us.

Wishing you could forgive

This clumsy klutz.

 As the title suggests, this was a spontaneous thought that erupted into a poem of sorts, hence it is not planned, not organised, has a strangely varying, inconsistent rhyme scheme and a slightly awkward flow in places, but at least the sentiments are honest.

 

Paagal Times: V-Day Special

14th Feb. 2013

Woh-Waala Day* was kicked off on the 14th floor of the boys hostel with a mass crying ceremony involving many of the single denizens of the 14th floor who went on a march around the floor while collectively pouring out their woes in the as yet unintelligible language of Wail-ish.

An eyewitness, who wishes not to be named (but wears a blue/navy-blue combo uniform), told our correspondent that for a minute he thought that some great tragedy had occurred, like the demolishing of the Chrompet Dominoes or AGS Cinemas.

However it turned out to be far more serious and instant anti-depressant aerosols had to be deployed to bring the crowd back under control. One of the participants, much calmer after the out pouring of emotion and a whiff or two of anti-depressants, told the Paagal Times that this was but the first of a proposed annual ceremony that shall take place every year "to strengthen our brotherly ties, and... as an excuse to openly cry without being mocked".


*Name censored as per requests from certain fundamentalist groups like the BSF Foundation(Be Single Forever), the AVA (Anti-Valentine Association) and the ones-who-must-not-be-named.

Welcome Back, Old Friend.

So, old friend,

 We meet again.

Just wait a moment

While I put down my pen.
 

Come, let us walk a while.

Where were we?
 

Ah, yes, my friend,
Tell me how have you been?

Have you travelled afar,

Many places seen?

Or have you but loitered at home

Maybe flipped through another massive tome?

Reading away your afternoons in peace,

 While worldly worries, to bother you, cease.

But I know you well, old friend.

Tired, you must have

Of that sedentary life

And soon your mind, I bet,
With boredom, was rife.

So you return.

And I am glad you have

Come back after all this while,

I've missed your sharp wit

And that knowing smile.

Those long drawn out discussions we had,

And the way we would drive each other mad.

Our strolls through fields and forests alike,

 And the times we just sat and rested by the dike.

Yes, those were the days.

It was nice back then,

Before the world got in the way.

While we free to explore,

And even work was but play.

While the world was still green,
And there was so much yet to be seen.

While our castles did float in the skies,

While we still ran about, stars in our eyes.
 

Innocent, naive; just starting out with our lives,

Dreamt dreams so big, its a wonder any survived.

But yes, enough with the reminiscing,
Let us get back from the past,

I know you have your own questions,

And this light will not last.

I have much to show you,
And you have much to ask
So while we walk on,
Let us start with latter task.

And- Yes, now I'll quit my rambling,

Else I'll just go on and on.

Now ask, my friend, ask. Sate your curiosity.

What have I been doing? Haven't you guessed?

Well, I have dabbled here and there

But for the most part have been

Wielding my pen mercilessly against paper,

My mind drifting to realms unseen.

From worldly strife, retreating,

The world almost forgotten at times,
While I sat alone scribbling random lines.

And time flew by as the verses that I,

Composed, gracefully spread wings, took to the sky.
 

Now it seems time did fly by swiftly,

And I've written so very much...

At any rate.

I weary now of this writing

For now I write no more.

For you are here again my friend,

And now writing seems but a chore.

So, let my pen lie and rust,

Let the old table drown under dust.

It matters not anymore.

As we walk off into the sunset,

Our feet kneading the rich loam,

Gladly I say, welcome back, Old Friend;

Welcome back Home.



(c) Akash 'Crazy Kaps' Kapur