Thursday, 15 March 2012

Nobody is perfect, I’m nobody!

Enough Serious story so here's another satire! 
You see this isn’t my idea. I was challenged to write this. So you see this might not be my masterpiece. But right now I am facing a crisis, a crisis of having no ideas what to write. I am lying on my couch with my Apple wireless keyboard in my right hand and my left one is deep inside a Lays packet searching for survivors. My eyes are glued to my Macbook all –in-one PC. Wow! I got an idea or atleast I understood the topic, it can mean 2 things, one that I am not perfect. Two I am perfect ‘cause ‘nobody’ is perfect and I’m that ‘nobody’. So I think it should look like I am humble, so I take the first approach towards the article. But my over grown ego resists. So in the end the battle is won by the ego so I take the second approach. I am perfect, guys! I think this saying or perhaps I should say this phrase was developed or at least this is my theory, when an egoistic child after achieving something hailed that he is perfect only to hear from one of his wise friend that nobody’s perfect but with his ego controlled mouth he replied ‘buddy, I am nobody’ followed by his self satisfied laughter so you see hence this phrase was born. Some take the philosophic approach toward the topic but I think that approach would be a lill’ hard to understand ‘cause that’s boring (maybe that’s why we fail to understand concepts at school) so I’m gonna take the comic approach. To be short this means no one’s perfect (save, me) even though it is contrary to the fact that practice makes a man ‘perfect’, so guys throw your books in your bag grab the couch and sit in front of the TV ‘cause no matter what you do you can’t score 100% marks! Well perhaps this is a phrase that tells us no matter what we do we can’t be perfect, you see there is always space for improvement. Though I don’t know how 100% gaining nerds improve further? Perhaps he should use ‘apsara’ extra dark pencils. (You have seen the advertisement haven’t you?). To be honest I don’t believe in this, I mean what happened to the ‘BE – HAPPY – IN – WHATEVER – YOU - HAVE’ philosophy? So guys even if you get 77 out of 80 work hard for those 3 marks and if you get those 3 marks then aim for err… something above 100% (I have no clue what that is!). This is a phrase that inspires us to achieve more and more. It is, in my opinion, similar to the Rang De Basanti’s character Ajay’s dialogue ‘no country is perfect we have to make it perfect’ the only difference being that this for the humans rather than country. But the approach that made me declare I’m perfect, can be used as a ‘SELF-MOTIVATION’. It can higher the confidence level of someone. But it can also make someone over-confident. So you see both the approach are positive and have the potential to be helpful to someone. The decision lies with you what approach you take. As for me I’m gonna use this phrase to work hard for the next SST exam, as I have achieved my previous goal of bringing more than 50 out of 80 (I got 55) and try next time to get more than 55, you see I follow the phrase ‘slow and steady wins the race’ and thus I wanna be slow and steady in progress too!

You can’t grow a tree in a confined space...

You can’t grow a tree in a confined space; you ought to give it freedom

My head is going dizzy. It is paining too much. The air was heavily filled with the smell of tobacco. I have been smoking my pipe for the last one hour, sitting in my rocking chair, in the heat of the flame, I was lost deep in thoughts. I have lost my job today and now there is no Mary to divert my thoughts. For the first time in my life I am feeling miserable. The lonely sensation is common for me from the day Mary had left me and the world. For the first time in my life, I have come to know the meaning of depression. I stand up from my chair and go to the mirror, there was standing a Paul Anderson staring me from within the depths of the mirror, short hair, and Irish green eyes; yes this is me Paul Anderson. Today I know what it feels like to be depressed. Today I know what Steven Flo must have felt like. Oh! How old memories rushed inside me, for much of my life I had tried to forget these memories, forget Steve. But today these memories rushed to me like it all happened yesterday. Steven Flo was a genius, not that he was the topper in our class but those who knew him completely, knew that beneath his undeveloped educational skills was a brain far more developed than other children of his age. But if there was one thing sad about him were his parents. He was the youngest of the 6 Flo brothers. All other five were topper but Steve was a below average child. Pie, theta, gamma were far too easy for him to understand at the age of 7. But unfortunately he hated studies. He was experiencing too much pressure from his parents. He hated them. It was at the age of 12 that Steve started experiencing hell. It was perhaps 5 Feb. when I received his phone call, he said “Paul I have found my adoption papers in mom’s jewelry box.” He was tensed. I advised him to talk to them. He did but alas his anger came in between. After his mother scolded him for opening her jewelry box. He had shouted at her for not telling him he was adopted. Then one day he comes to school with a blacked eye. He told me that his father had done it when he had demanded the names of his parents. It was at the age of 15 when the incident happened. It was a Sunday morning Steve was lying near the flowerbed, trying to gain some tan. And as usual he had gone into a row with his mother who had scolded him for not studying. He had received beating from his father. He said “what gives you right to beat me” his voice made it clear that he was trying to fight back tears. “You are our son” his mother replied. “You are just a foul women you aren’t my mother”. This was enough to break his father’s patience. Steve was lashed. The wounds on his back were bleeding he ran into the bedroom and closed the door. His mother shouted “open the dam door”. “I quit” Steve replied and the last thing he heard was his mother commanding his father to break the door. I don’t know what made his mother break the door, perhaps it was because the love for Steve buried deep inside her heart had resurfaced or perhaps she was afraid what the neighbors would say about her hatred for Steve. But I know one thing; after the door had broken she had realized it was too late. That day she had understood what Steve meant by his self –created phrase ‘you can’t grow a tree in a confined space; you ought to give it freedom’. That day the Flo family had lost a member whose knowledge was far more than any other Flo member. But perhaps suicide isn’t an option for me I have to wait for this terrible night to be over, I have to trust god to do the best for me.

The Ignored Advice

The air was filled with the smell of tobacco. Steve had been smoking his pipe for the last one hour. He had been sitting in the comforts of the heat of angethi. He was lying lazily in his rocking chair reading ‘A brief history of time’ well at least his eyes were on it. His brain was a wandering dog. For once or twice his coach’s advice had come to his mind but he ignored it. He gently blew out the smoke. The previous morning his coach had advised him to look at the previous games of Paul on the net. He had to learn Paul’s strategies and modify his own to beat Paul. But he had ignored the advice. He was too proud to listen to the coach. After all what was the coach? He was only an old fool. He had won all previous games of the championship, he could beat Paul. His chain of thoughts was broken by the flickering light of the angethi. The clock stuck twelve. It was after half an hour that the angethi’s flame was out. Steve was too tired to replace the coal. He decided to sleep, his eyelid became heavy. Steve had come to India to play the finals of the ‘World Chess Championship (W.C.C)’. His competitor, the other finalist was Paul Anderson from Ireland. The previous game’s stats favored Steve. Experts said Steve had a better chance of winning. Paul himself had admitted that Steve was better as a player than him. Perhaps these were the facts that had inflated Steve’s ego. Steven Flo had been representing England in the game. He was a new comer in the world of international chess. Steve knew if he loses, his career was over, well at least those who didn’t get a chance to represent England would make sure that his career was tore apart to bits.
The next morning, the sun’s rays penetrated Steve’s eyelids. He woke up with a start. Today was an important day for him. Today either he would attain eternal glory or would become a disgrace for England. The pressure on him was even more because England couldn’t loss from an eastern country like Ireland and more over England was a champion for the last 6 years. It was not only a game it was a quest for glory.
At about 8 at night the people of Ireland switched on the TV a satisfactory smile lit their faces the headlines were ‘Paul beats Steven Flo to win the finals of W.C.C’…
Steve was sitting in his chair, the clock stuck 11. He was smoking his pipe. He had lost the championship. It was not a close win by Ireland. It was perhaps the quickest game in the history of international chess. His career was over, he was over. Could he face the anger of his fans? Could he face his mentor and coach? Could he face anyone in England? Panic washed over him like icy cold water. He was a disgrace to his country. Despair and helplessness filled him up. Then suddenly an option came to his mind. He considered it. Yes said a voice from back of his head. He got up and went to his suitcase and picked up his pistol, placed it on his chest and pulled the trigger. Steve fell, blood oozed out of his chest. His pager beeped, he reached his breast pocket for it. He cleaned the blood on it with a struggling hand. He read it with difficulty it was from his mentor it read ’Success is a lousy teacher it seduces men into thinking they can’t lose’. Everything went black…

Friday, 10 February 2012

Holy Shit(Baby Revisited)!

Baby by Justin Bieber was A BIG FAT LIE. Here’s what it should have been like:-
You know you don’t love me,
I know you can’t,
You shout whenever,
I’m there,
You want a male,
But I am female,
The fact that I am not male,
Broke my heart,
Tore it apart,
I ask you for your phone,
In my girlish tone,
You hear my voice,
You laugh like you are insane,
Then you say,
“You don’t get a gf because of fame!”
I insist,
Then you punch my face with your fist,
My first love broke my jaw for the first time,
And that was like,
I just hope it’ll be fine.
To become a male I would have done whatever,
For now I can’t believe my jaw and skull are together,
But in your eyes I am a fool,
I have lost you,
I’ll buy you anything, anything,
But then in the mirror I saw,
On my face the impression of your ring.

The next day,
I am on my knee,
I propose you in public,
You say I created a scene,
You hit your sandal again and again,
I feel like I’m living a bad dream,
Then you throw me down the building,
And I am going down, down, down,
My first love broke my ribs and leg for the first time,
And that was like,
I just hope it’ll be fine.
When I was 13, I had my first love,
There was nothing that compared to the power of my baby,
And when she was beating me nobody came between us, who could ever come above,
She had me going broken; oh I was star struck,
She beat me up daily,
And due to swelling my face sucks,
On my face she gave me a pound,
I shake with fear when I see her in the street,
And at school on the playground,
It’s worse when she brings her brothers on the weekend,
She know she got me dazin' 'cause her punch was so amazin,
And now my leg is breakin' but I just keep on saying,
I just hope it’ll be fine.
My all bones are gone,
(Yeah, yeah, yeah),
(Yeah, yeah, yeah),
Now all are gone,
(Yeah, yeah, yeah),
(Yeah, yeah, yeah),
Now every single bone’s gone,
(Yeah, yeah, yeah),
(Yeah, yeah, yeah),
They are all gone, gone, gone, gone,
They are gone.

How has CCE helped us?

Well If this is Kapil Sibal reading this then I beg you please reform else a frustrated student will hurdle a shoe at you and put you in the ELITE group of people life George Bush and P. Chidambaram.
(Well, well consider this, 10 class students are makin' charts, well this is cce aka ‘continuous creation of ediots’.)
You are promoted to class 10, no pressure of boards. Cool! But as the classes start you start lovin' the idea of boards. Now the weekend is not like weekends. Free days are extinct and the very word 'play' is endangered. Why? Because of an asshole named err... I can’t say his name for he's manuse err... He is Kapil Sibal (next time he will be mentioned by the term 'you know who'). So you start the year with the feeling' of joy for there will be no boards.
First month-
You get some chart to make.
Your views-‘Can be tolerated.’
 Second month-
You get some more charts. The SST notes are far too long. Long syllabus of Fa1.
Your views-‘Disappointing month’
Third month-
 You ask others for holiday hhw. You see the pages, not of finished hhw but of what all has to be done. Far beyond expectation. Models, charts and more charts and more charts.
Your views-‘What the hell?’
Fourth month-
You struggle to finish A hhw.  And before you can recover from this disastrous holiday you get to know that your fa2 are approaching, and if this is not enough then you get to know that your hhw are a fa tool (fa tool are another awesome feature of cce due to which your 50% of your marks are given on the basis of how well you lick your teacher’s shoes? How well and how often you use sparkle in your models? How well you speak to your teacher? (for e.g.-if a child says, “what the hell? Ma’am you are the worst teacher I have ever meet” to his teacher then he gets an ‘E’ in his behavior column. And if a child says “excuse me ma’am! No offence but you are the worst teacher I have ever encountered. But these are my views; others may like your lovely voice…” and bla, bla, bla. Then this child gets an ‘A’ in politeness, though both children meant the same thing “ma’am you suck”! But still a little butter as seasoning is necessary. Isn’t it?!)). From one side you face the pressure of completing your hhw and from the other you have to pass in the exam. So you are screwed! And then you get bad marks in the paper and bad marks in the tools so your total is extra bad.
Your views-‘Shit.’
Fifth month-
You have just submitted your last hhw. Oh sorry, sorry, sorry, you have just placed the ORDER for your last hhw! Your family has just forgotten about the passing marks you scored in the last fa. And at the school you get to know that your half yearly or as they call it your sa2 are approaching. You get the syllabus. What’s frightening is SST. Chapters, maps, more chapters, more maps, more chapters, and more maps.
Your views-‘God, save me.’
Sixth month-
You have SST paper tomorrow. You have least possible preparation. Next day passes you are sure that you are fail. Like this only you spend the whole month and at the last paper also, like in all paper, you don’t know anything but still you don’t care because now this feeling of helplessness in the paper is ‘normal’
Your views-‘Board were better.’
Seventh month-
The results are out. You are barely pass. You face your family’s agony. And then, then you come to know that this was just one semester and for another 6 months you will have to bear this.
So my dear friend the question remains, ‘HOW HAS CCE HELPED US?’

Friday, 3 February 2012


Well, well question of the day. Who am i? Well to be frank I’m a nobody. Just another 15 year old who writes articles to ‘change’ the world but can’t even lift his fat ass up from the chair to go and throw a paper in the bin and loiters around himself. I am that nobody who thinks all day about a plot and when he gets time, he dreads to write and the laziness overpowers the creativeness. I am that nobody who mourns about the bloody system the whole day, wastes time in writing the articles that nobody gives a f**k about and when gets low graded due to time wastage, he increases the number of articles. But enough is enough. We, the nobody swear that we won’t let anyone demoralize us. No matter how bullshit our articles may be but we still would beat anyone to pulp anyone who criticizes them. So let me introduce myself. I’m Divyanshu Kalra, a student of M.J.K school (don’t bother about the full form. It is funny enough to make you laugh your head out.) and I pledge to change the wor… gotta go a hot girl has moved in the neighborhood, and she just rang the bell. Jackpot, baby, jackpot!!