Ram and Ravan united against a common eneME...

18/9/2009, Friday...

This might sound profane..
its that time of the year again..
when the Ramleela drives me insane..

Lord Rama, the super..
gauche Ravana, the usurper..
the sacrosanct 'transvestite' Sita, who is far from all evil..
or the garrulous platoon led by a cavernous devil..
and not to mention the 'apocalyptic' presenter of the function..
who is short of even the basic gumption..

The gyaan is too 'profound'..
and the cacophony is too loud and is veritably called a mere 'sound'..!
all the audiences they want to lure..
all the audiences they fail to lure..
but still they never fail to act cock-sure..
and keep 'creating' all that stupid furore..
welcoming the local politicians is their sole motive..
introducing & familiarising them with the native..

Why did i write all this, with all my apathy ?
because i want to gain your sympathy..
away from the main theme, did i sway..
because from my room..
the Ramleela's loudspeaker is just 20 metres away...!!
just 20 metres away...!!

I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...

Ashtray...

4/9/2009, Friday...

This is a song by an American punk rock band called Screeching Weasel. The song, it seems, has been written on me..!

I can't pay the rent, the 20 bucks I made last week's already spent..
The landlord's at the door and there's dried beer and cigarette butts on the floor..
Can't seem to go to work and let some fucker treat me like a piece of dirt..
Get out of bed, my head is fucking screwed..
And my life is really going down the tubes..
I dont know what the fuck to do..
Got half a pack of cigarettes and my wallet is completely bare again..
I might be broke but I don't care, I just watch TV in my baggy underware..
Monday morning 9 am, I gotta get out and start looking for a job..
I don't want a career, I got enough to deal with here..
And I shelled out my last 7 bucks for beer..
I don't know what the fuck to do..
I see the room before my eyes, a rotten pizza covered up with flies..
This just ain't the life for me, don't wanna end up like Lenny, Jake and Jesse..
Can't seem to go to work and let some fucker treat me like a piece of dirt..
Get out of bed at noon, my head is fucking screwed..
And my life is really going down the tubes..
I don't know what the fuck to do..


I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...
:)