"Welcome back" :)

I'm sitting, quietly, beside the window;

with sunshine falling on my face.

I'm sitting with a picture of us together;

taken at our yard on summer days.

I'm thinking all day with a paper pad in hand;

scribbling with a pencil, that's half-chewed;

And I want to be done, by the time you return,

'Coz i'm writing welcome-back a song for you!

CH:

But,

You said I wont even realize how fast,

the week will pass while you're gone.

But its only been two days and a half;

And it already feels like its been too long!

I want you here, in my embrace,

but I'm ready to wait patiently; its true.

As when you come back, we'll sing together;

'Coz love; I know you miss me too.

. . . 

When you were leaving you said to me,

"miss me while i'm gone, okay?".

And my heart took your advice literally;

And now, it misses you night and day.

I'm choosing the best words I can think of;

But my vocabulary seems weak and senile.

I can't think of any words to describe,

The feeling i'll get when I see your smile.

CH:

But,

You said I wont even realize how fast,

the week will pass while you're gone.

But its only been two days and a half;

And it already feels like its been too long!

I want you here, in my embrace,

but i'm ready to wait patiently; its true.

As when you come back, we'll sing together;

'Coz love; I know you miss me too.

. . .

:)

The center of the universe.

I am normally a very calm person, and don't get ticked off very easily.
But, i do get very pissed at some people, who for example, think that they are all-important; or refer to themselves in third-person. Also, I'm sick, and possibly tired of hearing pompous arses saying, "I am the center of my own universe".


First of all, no one on the face of this planet is huge or influential enough to have their own social 'universe'(the universe is too large to imagine or pin out, anyhoo). At the complete maximum, we all have our own little solar system ; but, we are not central to that either.
Many say, that if we cease to exist, then our solar system will vanish, too. But, lets face it; our solar system would still be, even after we are gone.


Our environment and the people around us, make up our own, special, and exclusive solar system. Our friends, our families, our enemies, our favorite popsicle... all these things, no matter how big or small they are, come together to form our personal haven. Yet, would all of these things stop existing, if we were to disappear? No. They might just lose one angle of perspective. But, they never totally lose their being.


The simplest example I can give you, is that of the Earth. The milky way (that name still makes me chuckle) is our universe; because we reside in it. We learn of it through our perspective, but we are not at the center, are we..? (If in case you failed at basic geography in school, let me edify, that the Sun is the center of our solar system. Thank you.)
The Earth is just another planet in the Milky Way. If it got destroyed, then the other planets and celestial objects wouldn't really care. I mean, yeah, they might get depressed, and change their orbits due to a lack of mass where our planet once stood, but in course of time, they would move on.


Similarly, it's the same for us. If we died, the people around us; that once consisted of our personal solar system, would just move on with their life.
Human beings are prejudiced by nature (enough to revoke Pluto's planetarism, or whatever), and it is impossible for us to think beyond our own existence. Yet, to think that we are central to anything on this planet is a very blunt, arrogant, myopic, and a sad thought. Our lives are deeply affected by others, and vice-versa. So, finding one single core, of the meaning of one's being is like trying to ride a snail-powered chariot to work, when you are already late (re: futile).


So, in the end, our lives are ruled by greater laws, than we can ever imagine. And, eventually, our lives are not in our own hands. The most we can do, is go on with life, as it is, and be the best we can ever be at whatever we do; while acknowledging those special people, for the importance and significance they have in each our lives.


Go ahead people, show each other some love!
And remember; the center of one's life doesn't exist in the meaning of being.
It resides in the process of living.
"All is one. One is all."

TPI : chapter 1

In all truth, I'd been waited for this moment for long time now. Lots of sleepless nights, sore heads, red eyes and hard work had gone into the foundation that blossomed into this. This was a moment that was 12 years in the making; and now, it had finally arrived. I had no words to express it, yet here I am, writing down how I felt- that's how desperately happy I had become...

...I'd been chosen as a student for The University of Students with Special Abilities (USSA), Carvale; pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mathematics.

Maths had been a passion for me, maybe even more. Ever since I was given a little abacus by my grandfather for my 5th birthday, I was hooked to calculations. Well, unlike the other students at school, things like calculus, and trigonometry seemed to make sense from a very early age. They were my friends, they were family- to me, mathematics was love. Geometry classes always seemed like more of a lovejoy ritual, rather than a school subject; a hobby which I prized and adored. And it was something I grew with. Now, don't get me wrong here, it's not that I was totally anti-social and loved nothing more than equations; but, it's just that the time that other people spent on plucking their 6-strings or videogames; i spent on my text books and the interwebs, solving various questions and problems; or whatever would draw interest to my number-craving heart.

The interview last week, was absolutely and shamelessly brilliantly. I had been confident and respectful in speech, and mum had made sure that I look like a perfect dweeb. Something the department would consider to be the smartest that anyone has ever looked in their whole life. It would've been quite a shock if they had sent me a rejection letter; but the letter of admission instilled a pleasant surprise of its own. And now, the day had come when I was to attend my first class at the University. Time flies.

It was a normal, average, everyday morning, save the butterflies in my stomach, and the unstriated nervousness that was evident in every little thing I did. Also, I was more punctual than I had ever been. My first class was supposed to start at 8:30 am, and reporting time was 8:15. I had set my alarm clock to ring me awake at 6am, but i didn't need it, as my sleep was shallower than usual, and i woke up at 5:53; and subsequently, started to get ready. Mum made the usual bacon and eggs for breakfast, but i was in no mood to eat. We left for USSA at 7 and reached by 7:17; almost an hour early. I got out of the car, kissed and hugged mum goodbye(who was trying her best to treat the day as ordinarily as her acting abilities allowed her to) and then made my way through the huge front gates of the university; where the brightest minds of our state learned all that they effectively know.

The building ground was a modern (and quite huge) structure. It had everything, from full size football grounds, to soccer fields, to one of the best libraries in the country. Also, the front lawn was huge and had many trees, small ponds with little fishes, and stone pathways zigzagged across the grass. I was observing the garden-like structure of the university-front when a boy, who had a familiar face, and seemed to be the a little older than I was, turned towards me, and gave me a "wait-a-second-who-are-you?" look. He had short, dark-brown hair, a lean frame, puny little eyes, and thinner lips than Matthew Perry.

"You're new at the university, aren't ya?", he asked as he started walking towards me.

I smiled and said, "Yeah, well, first day."

"Brett", he said as he held out his hand. "I'm Walter", i replied, as we shook hands- a firm handshake, dad would have been impressed.

"Ah, Mathematics freak, yeah? Gotta' watch yerself around those numbers!"

I was a bit shocked at how he figured out that bit. "hmm, not really a frea.."

"Just a maths lover- a romancer by nature, gotcha", he interrupted me, "everybody is, nowadays."

"So, you're a freshman.. or...?"

"Oh no! I'm just here to meet a professor for a special request... er, actually more of a permission to use the library", he said.

"Oh, okay. So... what is it that you do, Brett?", I asked him.

"I'm a Psychology student; from Lambert University. It's not as big as your coop", he smiled, "I need the library for a little project I'm doing on compulsions and how they drive a persona."

"Oh, cool." I was impressed but I really had no other reply. I was rather bored as well.

Then we spent some moments in awkward silence as we thought of new things to spark a conversation with; while Brett whistled an unknown tune, and i looked around aimlessly.

"So this proje..." I started; he interrupted, "You should really calm down about this university thing. I can tell you haven't slept well last night. And, you should not have bacon and eggs for breakfast; it's not good for your heart. Also, learn to drive, or you'll be murdered in college. And, yeah; buy new shoes, these old sneakers are killing your feet, ain't em? No matter how important they are to you, comfort comes first!"

I suddenly realized how much my toes were hurting. but I wouldn't take them off; on such an important day, because it was the last gift my dad had given me before he passed away. I'm not taking 'em off for anything.

I was shocked, "wait, how did you know so much about me??! Who the heck are..."

"whoa whoa whoa!!!", he interrupted me again. "Listen, I'm sorry, but I gotta go. The professor I was waiting for, has arrived, and I'm already behind schedule, so... goodbye, t'was a pleasure.", he said, as he turned around and started pacing towards a man who had just entered through the University gates.

Suddenly, he paused, hesitated, turned, and shouted, "Buy a Playstation", he shrugged, "No, you look the Halo types. Get an Xbox! It'll help you cope with stress!!", and then resumed his journey towards the man again, who had already entered the library, by then.

I was  dumbstruck and freaked out, as I saw Brett disappear through the library door. I kinda felt violated too, but, I shook the shock off, and checked my watch; 7:50 am. I marked the directions in the university prospectus, and started to move towards class. In the end, the strange interaction with Brett had helped me to settle myself down about taking my first steps in USSA. And to tell you the truth, the rest of the day was a bit uninteresting. USSA was like any normal university, and i felt at-home during my college orientation lecture. I met up with some of my probable classmates and professors- they seemed as enthusiastic as I. Even made some friends on the first day, which was a good way to start off; and was quite impressed by the cafeteria food.

When I got home, I saw that mum had returned early from work. She was very excited as she asked me to tell her how my first day was. I didn't have much to say, really- I'm a boy of few words, but she kept bombarding me with inconclusive little questions. Slowly, I opened up and told her almost everything in fragments. How the professors were, some of my batch mate's names, the cafeteria food; everything except my meeting with Brett; which had almost disappeared in my thoughts and anticipation of the next day at my favorite dream-come-true university. She seemed a bit disappointed by the lack of highlights in the whole day; and to tell you the truth, even i was expecting a more-eventful next day (maybe because I had half-known people at the university now). I had dinner; said my prayers and thank-you's, and went to sleep early that night. I slept well.

Next morning, I woke up at 6, thanks to the alarm clock, but was a lot more calm, cool, and sure of myself than 24 hours ago. While I was getting ready to bid goodbye to my sandy eyes and morning breath, I heard a thump on the door; the paperboy had delivered our morning daily. After brushing, I made my way to the front gate. Mornings felt incomplete and uneasy if i didn't read the newspaper; so, I took the paper from the porch, and realized that it was something that I had skipped the previous day. I started shifting through the pages, to see if there was anything worth attention. As I was turning one page after another, a photograph in page 7 caught my eye; I went back, and looked at the report under the "Local News" section. It was the face of Brett, smiling back at me from the parchment; and the Headline read, "Local youth cum private-eye helps nab USSA book burglars".

I was shocked. I went into the dining room, sat down, and I quickly ran my attention through the whole article, and registered that Brett had a detective agency ("could you call it an agency? 'Cause it seemed like he was the only person in it") called "The Private I" ("That's a bit pompous, yeah? And is this legal, or even legalized?")  or, "TPI" as he liked to call it. He had been doing small time cases for quite a while now, and was quite famous amongst the folks down south of our town, mainly because that was where he lived. I set the paper aside and fell into deep thought. My mouth gaped wide open as I leaned back into the sofa, recalling my conversation with the boy I had met the day before.

Suddenly, I had a passing thought, "Mum! hey mum, you awake?", I shouted from the dining room.

"Yeah honey, I'm making breakfast.", she replied from the kitchen. I got up and made my way to the kitchen.

"hey, mum, is it okay if I told you what I want for my next birthday, right now?", I asked, even though its was two-and-a-half months away.

"Wally, as long as its nothing too dangerous or perverted;" she chuckled. I didn't reply- just looked at her blankly. After a millisecond worth of awkward silence, she continued,"ah, well, it's going to help me save for it if you tell me now, so its okay. go on, honey.."

"Well, mum", i smiled, "I think I want an Xbox"...

Here i come, again.

Another new composition, about a person who is very insecure with his choices in life. He is unsure of what he should do; go forward with his life, or turn back, and undo all the big mistakes he has made.

"Here I come, again"

Thinking of moments from the past,

With hopes devoid, and maturity passed;

I wish I could make those memories last,

Just this once again.

Yet, what has gone is in a sepia tone,

So i'll keep walking this path alone;

Into a life that is trouble prone,

But is worth the pain.

So,

Through words unsaid;

And things undone,

Here I come.

Here I come, again.

To a crimson road,

Beneath the sun;

Here i come.

Here I come, again.

. . . 

I'm having dreams I don't understand.

And I feel my faith slip from my hand,

The world around, seems engraved in sand;

Disappearing grain-by-grain.

My head is confused, heart's in dismay;

And though life seems to be in slow decay,

I'll have to move on, come what may;

Without regret or refrain.

So,

Through words unsaid;

And things undone,

Here I come.

Here I come, again.

To a crimson road,

Beneath the sun;

Here i come.

Here I come, again.

. . .

Salvation beckons;

But repentance burns.

So, here i come;

Here i come, again...

. . . 

The one and the all

Full metal alchemist was a great anime, and it taught me a lot of things. But none was so significant as the law of equivalent exchange and the concept of "the one and the all". Read on...

If I died the world would continue to move along as if nothing had happened; even our near and dear ones would learn to move on with life in the course of time. Because in reality, i'm just a small part of it. When the small part; in this case me, dies, the body remains.

Water, Carbon, Ammonia, Lime, Phosphorous, Salt, Saltpeter, Sulfur, Magnesium, Fluorine, Iron, and Aluminium. The body’s only a combination of those simple elements. Nothing more. We’re destined to be decomposed by bacteria, and become nutrients for plants, then you follow the process further, those plants nourish herbivores.And those herbivores nourish carnivores. Even others like us. And even though we lose awareness our lives keep on moving through the system.The great flow that maintains the universe, call it the cycle of life, the course of nature each one of us is just a small part of that part. One in the all. Yet without all the individual ones, the all can’t exist.


This world flows by following grander laws that we can’t even imagine.


Yet, in the end...
we are insignificant, therefore are we great.
:)

Call to Age (growing up)

A song that I written and composed for some friends. Its about the unwelcome coming-to-age of a teenager, who is wary of matured life already.

"Call to age"

A haven of naivety,

Is burning into the ground.

Through social glares, and security scares;

Youth is lost; maturity, found.

The colors of imagination,

In reality, are died down.

My childhood inhibitions and premonitions,

Were only false starts in sight and sound.

CH:

The world was so much warmer in my dreams.

But real heroes don't wear capes, it seems.

With battered bodies and scarred minds,

They compete for contention, and fall behind.

And I don't want to live my life that way.

So, i don't want to answer my call to age...

_ _ _

Care-freeness has been condemned;

By an inability to swallow pride.

It's not what i wanted, but it's that what i need,

To help survive the cruel world outside.

And innocence, the scent of youth;

Has been undone by a lack of faith.

That has been entrusted in my shaky arms,

By a flux of sorrow, and love and hate.

CH:

The world was so much warmer in my dreams.

But real heroes don't wear capes, it seems.

With battered bodies and scarred minds,

They compete for contention, and fall behind.

And I don't want to live my life that way.

So, i don't want to answer my call to age...

_ _ _

Getaway

Another song for my bro's band, hope you like it!
Its about a boy who is seeking a short-cut getaway from all the social mishaps and problems he has got himself into.

"Getaway"

Get up, your eyes are on fire;
And your head can't get any higher!
Your heart's stuck under a tyre,
of a truck full of emotion!

Winter snow, and its only just July;
You maybe sane, but the mind wont comply!
The texts sent, that don't have a reply,
have a message of their own!


Someone please take the confusion away!
It's liberating pain, and all that I can say:

CH:

This is a dumbstruck getaway;
Like riding on an empty gauge!
When your vacant mind; is getting high,
And you think you're all alone!

Like a violent and unmindful game,
Incurred to inflict personal shame!
And your vacant mind is getting high,
Stuck in your house and home...

- - - -


Catalysis making shit outta reactions,
As prescribed since their inception!
While cozenage helps build a deception,
for the soul left unemployed!

Flashing lights in the night enquire;
About an alter ego's desire!
Of turning false sparks into a fire;
through a white lie once deployed!


Someone please burn the chaos out!
It's liberating pain, and you would rather shout:

CH:

This is a dumbstruck getaway;
Like riding on an empty gauge!
When your vacant mind; is getting high,
And you think you're all alone!

Like a violent and unmindful game,
Incurred to inflict personal shame!
And your vacant mind is getting high,
Stuck in your house and home...

- - - -


Someone cut the tension with a knife!
And proceed to point out, what is wrong or right:

CH:

This is your dumbstruck getaway;
Like riding on an empty gauge!
When your vacant mind; is getting high,
And you think you're all alone!

Like a violent and unmindful game,
Incurred to inflict personal shame!
And your vacant mind is getting high,
Stuck in your house and home...

Lost Samaritan

The last song that i wrote, and composed for my brother's band. Here t goes:

"The Lost Samaritan"

I'v walked on a deserted street;
was the source of a dead heart-beat.
an aimless vagabond, marching on,
with tired and leaden feet.

I had got nothing to speak or rave about;
had no slogans to scream or shout.
no faith, or morals to believe in; but was,
a lobotomized devout.

CHORUS:
Through the dirty sand;
sprinkled on my eyes.
I could see a cynical sun;
Burning into ice.

I walked a dampened beat;
De-motivated by lies.
I was a lost pedestrian;
Walking to my demise.
. . .

My charlatanism; was burnt and torn.
My mind survived; 'coz its carved in stone.
Misled, misplaced, and then, disgraced;
my life was agony prone.

I read signs on the road, leading nowhere.
And I kept walking on with perpetual despair.
And deep inside; i knew, that if I die.
no one would even care.

(CHORUS)
. . .

BREAK:
Though I couldn't feel anything any more,

And I had never been worse in my life.
My fingers, broken; and my head was sore,

 I knew I had to make things all-right.

And so I walked straight into the light;
The light that had once made me blind;
With open arms and a smile on my face,
As pain, purged and cleansed my mind.

So,

 Through the dirty sand;
sprinkled on my eyes.
I had seen a cynical sun;
That's burnt into ice.

I used to walk a dampened beat;
De-motivated by my inhibitions.
I was a lost Samaritan;
Who walked into liberation...

The Attic

The Attic is a short poem that I wrote a good 4-5 years ago. I found it while rummaging through pages from my old dump-table in my grandpa's house in Khardah. I then turned it into a song, which i am going to post below. Its a nostalgic piece, and its very close to the heart, here it goes.

The Attic

After a Saturday night; the sun comes up.
And i'm not feeling so good today.
Its warm outside, but i want to hide,
and wash the hangover away!

And so I make my way up the staircase,
and through the hole in the roof of the hallway.
I get myself into that magical place,
that can turn gloomy nights to day!

CH:

Pictures from the past, and memories that last,
old records and a huge gramophone.
Childhood toys, and the busby boys;
When I'm with them, I don't feel alone.

So I go up to the attic, when I'm feeling blue,
with my heart and mind fast beating.
Coz here lies the truth, lost treasures of my youth,
That helps me get through anything!

- - - -

The room inside should seem dark and cold,
but though the old light bulb's stopped working.
The warm midday rays, give it a sepia tone,
and it gives me a special feeling.

As the sun beats down on the world outside,
I'm rummaging through another dusty stack.
I find new old things; stuff I forgot I ever had,
and they're giving me nostalgia attacks!

CH:

My very first bike, and my broken tri,
My collection of deformed pebbles and stones.
An plastic bow, and dozen broken arrows;
When i'm with them, I don't feel alone.

So I go up to the attic, when I'm feeling blue,
with my heart and mind fast beating.
Coz here lies the truth, special memories of my youth,
That helps me get through anything!

- - - -

I was scared of this place when I was small;
and now it helps me hold on to myself.
It is the first hand that reaches out,
when I'm all alone, and in need of help.

So i come up to the attic when in a shadow of a doubt,
or when life seems awfully shallow and fleeting.
Coz here lies the truth, and references to my youth,
That helps me get through anything!

And now I'm done, coz the sun has set;
and the darkness don't let me see a thing,
I'll go through my pockets, leaving back a souvenir;
for the next time I come back up again...

The truth behind every lie.

Lying is a compulsion that no one can ever resist. All of us, no matter how pure and noble we are; have lied for some reason or another. Yes, it is an enticing option sometimes; and frequently, it IS the easy way out of things. Yet, we are not going to talk about that, today, oh no. Lying is simple indeed, but what we are going to discuss today, is how we can spot lies with the naked eye, and ear; which in fact is much, much more difficult.


Everyone knows that a liar can't keep frequent eye contact when he is being dishonest, but there are people who have crossed the boundary. I know my sister can look me straight in the eye, and tell me, that it was ME who broke military uncle's radio in the winters of '99 (even though it was really her) and it sends chills down my spine, to know that someone can have that much control over their resolve so easily. At this point of time, really, you thank the existence of vibrato. What is vibrato? Well, it is a vocal effect consisting of a regular pulsating change of pitch. And, yes, liars, no matter how compulsive they are, will always have a little amount of vibrato about their voices when they are lying.


But, we live in an imperfect world. And none of our senses of hearing, or analysis is good enough to be able to distinguish a vibrato every time. So, we have what we call, "let the liar speak" because believe it or not, the easiest way to make out a lie, is to be able to distinguish what is true. Henry Spencer once gleefully said, "every lie is based on a kernel of truth", and in reality, he was more right than even he knew he was. Every liar will try to add one unnecessary truthful fact to their compilation of lies. And recognizing that one fact, which is indeed true, can help you in finding out whether the person is lying or not.


The liar will think that the one true fact (that is almost perspectively universal) will convince the listener that what he/she is saying is completely true, but realizing that fact can help the listener distinguish the truth, from the lies.
Yet, how you're going to do that, is completely up to you. All I can tell you is, that you have to be one hell of a good listener.


Happy hunting... For lies...