tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151213532012-02-16T13:54:26.780+05:30Education would think of me a lost case... I consider it a lost cause -Selfbasithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.comBlogger391100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-70730613604100874732010-01-14T01:38:00.000+05:302010-01-14T01:39:26.595+05:30

moved to http://basyt.wordpress.com a long while back. occured to me that there should be a pointer here to that fact :P

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-67056642261687061702007-12-08T19:36:00.000+05:302007-12-08T20:44:57.218+05:30

Failure to Communicate:Dreams they say, are the mirrors of our souls.Our secrets are revealed in our dreams and nowhere else. In a way, dreams are our subconscious' attempt to have a conversation with us. Sometimes they happen to be ludicrously meaningless, at others they are unbelievably lucid.Then there are those other times when, we wake up covered up in cold sweat. With absolutely no idea of

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-59070854043618415622007-10-08T18:22:00.000+05:302007-10-08T18:41:38.003+05:30

Human Interactions:Anagraphy of a somewhat Autistic, probably Bipolar and mostly Introvert chronic loner I am finally sure that I am not capable of interacting with the others of my species.Here is something that happened today.I have a friend, lets not name him. I notice that he has a shaved head. Which in India implies that someone in the family has expired.Normally, I would have minded my own

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-66708349198886612612007-09-30T09:53:00.000+05:302007-10-02T13:35:12.116+05:30

MY WORLDI stare at the blank page with blank thoughts in my head.It is dark and there is no one around for miles.Or maybe I'm trapped in a crowd in an alien land where I know no one.What difference does that make?I choose to see what I want to see.And I hear only the words echoing in my mind.I wonder. Would I just die one day? Would my heart one day, just refuse to beat? I can neither comprehend

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-73752979701315261782007-08-22T21:16:00.000+05:302007-08-29T07:06:22.424+05:30

The Doctor, the Patient, the Shaman, his Parents and Everyone Else: Episode OneI went to his room. There was a commotion already in place. "What happened?" I inquired. "He refuses to wake up." I was told. I was surprised. "What do you mean he refuses to wake up?"He is not getting up, his mother told me. He has been asleep for a week now. Frantic activity all around me. Doctors, nurses, excited

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-88627119068844538992007-08-22T02:47:00.000+05:302007-08-22T04:55:40.257+05:30

A God's LamentShould I just obliterate all existence and be done with all the charades? I am after all a God left at the mercy of whimsical beings. Is the capacity to bear infinite pain my omnipotence? Why did I create when I knew that this day will come? Am not I above errors? Then why is my reflection not blemish free?Why can't the fountains of Heaven quench my thirst? Where did I go wrong? How

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-50876781428902454162007-08-20T02:39:00.000+05:302007-08-20T03:58:36.263+05:30

Right now all can think about is all the gruesome deaths that would end my life. So why haven't I ended my life. Okay makes no sense to me. Drivel. All of the above. Maybe, maybe not. What do I live for? Audioslave has disbanded and there last album was not even a millionth as a good as their first. So basically what is the point in living? Well Gears of War comes for PC this Christmas. So I

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-9872260748014349142007-07-28T12:12:00.000+05:302007-07-28T12:22:13.490+05:30

A Tale of Two Lives:First Tale My mouth was full of the bitter distaste of grim reality. It didn't matter at that time whether I existed or not. Inches from death, laughing at my misfortunes. And why not? What better time there could be than such? A little longer and I will be dead. Then I can look back at a life wasted and try to comprehend what went wrong. I had no doubts that such a time

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-57152817481167321742007-07-16T02:27:00.000+05:302007-07-16T02:42:03.182+05:30

There was a time I was a huge fan of U2, in my third semester and while Vikram was cleaning up his room, this song, yeah thats right song surfaced, that I am going to publish right now. I have an exam tomorrow for which I am definitely unprepared but that is obviously a trifle matter compared to this. According to the note I have with this poem, I would like it sung by Bob Dylan to a melody that

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-40419892424646524082007-07-10T23:32:00.000+05:302007-07-12T21:02:08.904+05:30

This is something I wrote some time ago but did not publish maybe because it is a bit too personal. But like most of the times I don't really care much anyways. Also there is the unwritten rule that I follow of publishing my thoughts hence I will publish this. If I feel like it I'll add to it. Just maybe. It is rather sardonic. Whatever that means. I was way too smoked when I first wrote this and

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-6201177676070035182007-07-04T21:58:00.000+05:302008-12-13T10:42:40.352+05:30

Do Photons Wear Watches?Every time I see that damn scene of the atom bomb exploding I am filled with a feverish excitement. I get filled with emotions like, wow this thing can totally annihilate me in less than a second. Eradicate me from this planet like I have never existed.Of course if somebody wants to kill me he won't have to go that extreme, from my experience playing Counter Strike I know

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-40370928121390180692007-06-18T12:38:00.000+05:302007-06-18T13:25:06.401+05:30

It is how that what I write has a certain emo feel to it. Now that is not right because that is not true. That would be because a friend once pointed out I am primarily an epicurean in hedonistic moods. Phew. Point is it is sort of lame to be writing the same kind of poems over and over again just because the quiz didn't go well or because i again got decapitated by the chainsaw freaks while

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-49576944422051205012007-04-26T15:27:00.000+05:302007-04-26T17:20:20.199+05:30

My new poem, I was composing when I should be studying, God!!!111!!!MAN SIZED RINGS OF SMOKEBuried in my tub witheyes full of smoke.I cough, its the proof that I am alive.Life was a nuisance,death ain't no better.I guess I'm bored.My back hurts so do my knees.Is it real, or all just in my head.Tonight I die, take you with me.Is it a ride that you want?Gouge out my eyes, ease the pain.Take my life

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-26785581338803779792007-03-08T12:01:00.001+05:302007-03-08T12:15:39.882+05:30

A message for the One they call GodIf its a painless death that you offer,I am willing to take it.I fear pain and not death.I am ready to move on.I'm bored with this world,with having to work,with trying not to work.I am bored with my lifeand your's too.Why was I made?if only to be stuck here?I don't wanna live anymore.Not many thoughts I have anyways.I have listened to all the music I

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-81896133320650087822007-01-02T22:47:00.000+05:302007-01-02T22:50:51.262+05:30

So in the end nothing much, but these days I have my hands full with work all those courses n meanie profs, I'll lucky to get outta here alive n in One Piece. Anyways till later then :P

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-58562180784403357502007-01-02T22:35:00.000+05:302007-01-02T22:46:36.363+05:30

A collection of poems(mostly love themed, and quite similiar also, wrote them some time in my first year)The Songwriter------------------------------------------------------------------------------------1)I write a poem,a beautiful poem about youon a piece of paperand throw it away.There it goes,with it my heartthrough the same twists and turns,slow and fast,to where the breeze carries itit

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-32190820387064362202007-01-02T22:09:00.000+05:302007-01-02T22:34:46.779+05:30

SAUNTERING TO SCHOOL Sauntering to school, I see a wretched beggar shivering with cold his clothes are tattered I wonder if there are more patches or fabric He gracefully covers himself with

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-76221357083069579512007-01-02T21:57:00.000+05:302007-01-02T22:03:38.520+05:30

An update maybe this is.Havn't posted for quite some time now.Basically I hav been away from my computer for quite some time now.But anyways today I was missing it a lot, my fingers were aching to write and I was sorta in the mood( as I often get, when I wanna write) but couldn't think of a single thing to write.Anyways I found this amazing( for only me, but then that is what this blog is all

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1154689845835901172006-11-12T20:53:00.000+05:302006-11-18T01:45:41.552+05:30

HER-STORYWe hear so many histories all the time, around every corner. Everyone seems to have a version of their own. Yet they are not the only stories that exist. Muted and ignored, exist other stories, like the rustling of tree-leaves in a gale, the tears of a mother in epic wars. These stories, often never told otherwise promptly forgotten, are her stories.Pay attention because I am going to

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-64833490170889298492006-10-31T02:51:00.000+05:302006-10-31T03:25:25.241+05:30

LOVEHow can you know lovewithout the infinite pain of solitude?You wither and fadeuntil a shell is left,hollow yet full of emptiness...And who has known lovewithout being severed, cut and yet seeemigly whole.An echo is all i hear,even when nothing is there.Shadows are all my perceptionsdevoid of form, of purpose.Dark might be the path I tread onbut I know one day we'll meetand there still is

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-6318333476525814072006-10-22T23:49:00.000+05:302006-10-22T23:50:52.342+05:30

Hmm...edited bloody sunday( didn't like the name anyways i guess :P)renamed and sum grammar( thank god for that)

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1156353983101064372006-08-23T22:54:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.917+05:30

Bloody Sunday I wrote for a lit comptt in my instiIf you, the reader comes across this blog, please pray to God that I may win.That is if you liked the story.I have never been published and I desperately want to be.

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1156190183673236102006-08-22T01:23:00.000+05:302006-10-22T23:49:12.720+05:30

My 15 mintues of Immortality Boring life. Hardly a bank account. Then.....Blood cancer. Last stage. A month left at maximum. Not an impressive resume by any standards. Even for a rookie assassin.Ah there I am getting ahead of myself again! Old habit of mine for which I sincerely apologize.Since my tale is long let me do it full justice, and start with the beginning.It starts with me.Once upon a

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1149353400822514992006-06-03T22:04:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.557+05:30

Me DadWhen I last saw me dad, he was crying. He told me. Now here we are and he is no more. I guess the question for me isn't whether or not was he a good man, but did I love him? I think I do... and thus he began telling me a tale ever bit as incredible as any I ever heard.It was a long time ago...Dad, I can't do this. I can't marry her.But son we all did that, didn't we all have our own love

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1149238663352234322006-06-01T16:07:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.494+05:30

Three Sides of A CoinThe two sides of a coin... the same yet so different.So I asked myself again, should I do it or not? A little voice awoke inside me and said well you'll fail anyways... and then there awoke another voice, of reason saying, wtf is the point anyways? For future reference lets call them Sad and Skeptic respectively.So anyways one fine day, Sad and Skeptic were staring into the

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1149105320461428112006-06-01T01:20:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.429+05:30

The Pessimist I am a pessimist. I mean the “I don't comb my hair” kind, what is the the point really?Not the sort of person who brightens up parties just by “being there”, if you know what I mean.Quite the contrary actually.So this came as a real surprise, an invitation, to a real party, well that was a first. The folks throwing the party must be real optimists, the half-full glass kind, I

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1148932303287585892006-05-29T16:08:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.354+05:30

THE FAMILYHe looked outside the window, the same as ever trees, birds, people with nothing better to do...He looked at his watch, it was almost time... only an hour to go now.The explosion tore through the city...He got out of the house. Dressed to kill, to use the expression. A smile played on his lips, today it would be finished, all over, he would take his daughter, his incredibly beautiful 3

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1143387865614023842006-03-26T21:02:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.287+05:30

Now some clarifications.The story WE was an idea of ArviKot. But all the work is mine. Actually only the setting of the story is been inherited.Its a story I m likin more everyday, its got a non-linear plot, its got an open ending, it was totally spontaneous, its got no dialogues, no heavy words, no runon sentences, crisply written... blah blah I didn't know I was so conceited as publicly

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1143310822090669092006-03-25T21:19:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.220+05:30

I I is a subjective concept.Me is a hazy,shady creature inside you, everyone.This is a story about me. I.The man lay dead. A fall from the top of a highrise generally accomplishes that. The force with which you hit the ground, is like running headlong into a speeding train.I had no reason to do either.I wasn't the Supreme Emperor of the Universe but then, who was?When I started donating blood, I

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1143189154390084752006-03-24T14:00:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:02.153+05:30

USWe're inflated out of lies, it could have been truth ...I have so few memories about what happened last night. Blurred images, faces twisted beyond recognition.You want the truth, I'll tell you the truth.There was none.Everyone can have perceptual errors. The world sort of dims. Gets hazy. It’s like a waking dream, almost.No, more like waking from deep slumber. Afterlife.Faced with such

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1132936250897716612005-11-26T11:35:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.923+05:30

Okay I am not Noel Gallagher and my favourite band is definitely not Oasis but even then "Wonderwall" touched me sufficiently to try writing alt lyrics.This isn't much good but then that's probably just my opinion.Aphrodisiac(Note Bono: I used to think that aphrodisiac means a pain-killer it doesn't but I could not find another substitute Aspirin sounds funny I will give some more thought to this

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1132934239769728282005-11-25T21:15:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.857+05:30

iT HAD TO HAPPEN SOMEDAYFinally its hereI don't mean the endsems silly they keep cominI am back blogging and god that feels niceAnd we have a special treatThe first love poem by me, is here.Its called simplyYOUIf only the wounds of my heartshowed on my bare skin...........You'd probably then might've noticed,each and every one of them was a creation of yours.I feel like a shadow,Skin covering

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1127809644076517332005-09-28T02:25:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.681+05:30

I don't have a title for this poem, but the two good things, it is instantaneous(i mean i wasn't thinking whlie writing, i was feeling)and no references to lotr or norse mythology or any kinda fantasieswhat do you do when you wanna run awayfrom urself?you can't run and you can't hidehe follows where you go.he expects better from youhe laughs when you fail, coz healready knowsthat you're gonna

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1127582646455990612005-09-25T11:25:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.575+05:30

Words Of Wisdom(From Those Who Claim They Know)(Recorded during innumerable Thermo Lectures)This isn't a defamation, its just I found the content surprising!!So well okay fine exactly of course.Some very unique lessons follow so hold on tight(to your Mystery Trains!!)How do we choose the differential is a very philosophical question.The size of the differential is very small. To the molecular

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1127240775797333862005-09-20T23:26:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.401+05:30

The Life SongLight shines on a hill top,Move over,go there fast.Did life pass you by?Staring at the sun,didn't meet its eyeStared long, stared hardfought for hours, the demon's wrath.Shadows rise, towers plummet,Evil grows, darkness falls.And then light,Hope unseen, unsung,Radiant as the Evenstar's Elessar,Earendil in flight,laugh with delight.swing from mistletoes,don't wipe the laughter from

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1125204999789478832005-08-28T05:41:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.215+05:30

Where do we go now?Where do we go now. I can't concentrate !!!!! The first semester is passing right infront of my eyes and I am making the same mistakes as before, I just can see the events happening in the same as the last semester and I am really scared, I have this feeling of deja vu whenever I miss a class or waste time or do something I should be doing, for instance blogging when I should

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1123364316471466222005-08-06T15:40:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.134+05:30

A Life Less Uncommon The darkness is consuming me, The raysovthesun don’t reach here up to me. I m lost, trapped, A captive of my own army left to the mercy of my own devices. Wisdom has dripped away As has ebbed life. Know not whither to look nor where to turn how far must I go before I return? The caves are around me, vicious beasts surround me.

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1123278199881714032005-08-05T17:36:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:01.060+05:30

Its a bird,its a blog......its a superblogblogs r for humans.for metahumans u need superblogs.my first metahumans were Indian.i started with nagraj,bhokaal,parmanu,doga(who like punisher isn't really a meta human but his guns do all the talking),dhruv(his intelligence and razor-sharp intelligence make up for his lack of meta powers,though he has trained himself in the language of animals all of

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15121353.post-1123199634841570472005-08-04T17:54:00.000+05:302006-10-11T21:30:00.971+05:30

ME MYSELF AND IIT Kso here i am listenin to green day, maroon 5,eminem,clapton,axle rose,dire straits,avril,bon jovi,metallica,coldplay, u2, santana(what i really wanna say is that i have,as i feel a very good and varied taste in music)and composing a below standard blog.but at least i m being honest.so i'll write about the things i like, i like music i like good movies i like good computer games

basithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09276954243224583148noreply@blogger.com3