'Billi' Blues

No, i'm not talking about my pet. I have no pets. It is about CAT (cat hereafter)...'see-aay-tee' and I couldn't dream of it being my pet. Come on now, pets de-stress. The antonym..i mean, the exact opposite is what cat does to me. And argh! It seems to be upsetting my modest language too.

Presently, it has me balanced on its palm and it can land me in/on
(a) GHMC dustbin, or (b) cloud nine. So much for one-and-a-half years of preparation. Okay, not exactly. Make it half an year....or maybe....three months? Anyways, Rohini sitting through out the day- working out problems, trying to comprehend the most incomprehensible passages and interpreting all those Mars-ish DI sets for three months straight is quite an achievement. The result? I end up with the same percentiles as i used to score before these blessed three months. Grossest gross. Tut-tut.

Now with one month left for the Doomsday, you can actually hear my spine cracking. It is not just cat-blues now- it is reds and greens and blacks (bleak(s)?) - all together in a stomach churning mush.

As a ravenous reader, i have always liked mystery novels. But my unsuspecting fancy seems to have gotten me into trouble. One fine day, God, amused by me, decided to insinuate into my life that blighted thing - mystery.
What will my cat scores be like? Will i get any calls at all? Even if i do get them, will i be able to pass through the next big thing...GD and PI? Tut-tut again. Reading/watching a mystery is fun. Being a part of it is...'yoww'. Tut...okay. I will not say it again.

But to clear my conscience- cat isn't as dark a picture as i have painted...it has its silver linings too...may be i'll talk about them when i'm done with the exam. It did not really upset my language ( it was just my meanness talking) , it rather enriched it (Fine! To some extent atleast?). And yeah, it has consented to being the topic for my blog.
Pretty sweet, no?



Legend

CAT : Common Admission Test.
GHMC : Greater Hyderabad Municipal Corporation.
DI : Data Interpretation

If pain was only skin-deep

Eyes stubbornly spill

the copious tears I try holding back.

The wretched feeling

in the moribund heart

returns with a vengeance.

Veins burst,

though I see no blood.

The bone aches,

like when you hammer nails.

And those nerves-

are they tied into a knot?

My fingertips burn,

when they brush my skin

Am I to melt,

and evaporate?

But at times,

I do wish I could.

Puff and gone,

never to be again born.

But what have I done,

to bear this torture?

My life now seems

in a perennial languor

My flesh has grown

so senile

The once loquacious lips

are now sewn up.

The lucid eye

is now a glassy sea.

Blood they say,

is thicker than water

But mine has turned

so gossamer -

that tears now seem

much thicker and darker.

The very people

I revered , I loved,

who once said

‘love you too’,

now each has, a derisive eye

that slashes my soul

beyond repair.

But oh, it is only human to err

then why is it that

only He can forgive?

If only, this incessant pain

would not crush the bone,

nor torment the mind,

nor pierce the heart.

If pain, was only skin-deep.

Or something real,

I could quickly amputate.

An ode to my handbag

My efficient, handy handbag

With flowers undying, blooming upon you,

Loyally hanging on my shoulder,

You keep company in my life’s pursues.

I missed my bus and was walking all the way

My new shoe was peevish, it bit my little toe

Every step hurt - oh, so very much

When ‘baggy’ conjured up a band-aid for my succour.

A lonely day in an alien town

Alas! The network did not follow me there

A bubble of boredom was swelling in my head

When you brought out a book miraculously.

Trouble yet again, at my work place

A seminar to be given at the end of the day

I lunge for my bag and there I find

My hair brush, my gloss and all that I need.

Walking on a road – deserted and dark,

I long for home which is ever so far

A twisted crook, I spot stalking me,

But baggy has a pepper-spray in its belly.

This mundane poem is an ode for you

I know you deserve more,

but that’s all I could brew.

Love you, my baggy, I always, always do.

Oh! sweet daughter

Grieve not, oh sweet daughter,

for he is not gone,

but has begun a new life

in the core of your heart.

Fear not, oh sweet daughter,

for he will shield you

against the beasts of time

through the memories of your mind.

Worry not, oh sweet child,

for he is well at peace

away from the agony of life,

in god’s lounge, sipping tea.

Cry not, dear sweet daughter,

for that will suffocate him

Be strong and be bold

and thus you will emulate him.