I heart YOGA (more for its entertainment value than anything else)---part 1

Disclaimer : No, I am not being paid by Baba Ramdev for writin' this.I wish I were though :)

These winter holidays I decided to do something different and came home for the year end break.No sooner had I entered my apartment complex that i got this sinking feeling like I was gonna regret this decision big time.Dont get me wrong I love my folks to death but there ain't no point visitin' 'em coz they ain't around for the better part of the day.Mum & Dad are out for work early mornin' before the the rooster can finish its poultry-orgy dream or can do something about its morning wood.And for reasons best known to themselves my sibling's school administration arranges their exams while the rest of the world is on a sabbatical.Since I haven't been home for much of the past 3 years during which my parents had moved to a new apartment complex which curiously gave me deja vu because it looks exactly like the last one,--(really when Indian Govt hires civil engineers competence and innovativeness are never the things they look for,instead they focus more on who the candidate's uncle is or how fat his/her wallet is)--except its in a differnt part of the city and i dont know anybody around here.So the onus of keeping me occupied again fell back onto the 3 things i consider above food,clothing and shelter which are books,tv and internet/phone.Now keeping in tandem with my absolutely fabulous luck,it turned out that my Dad had decided not to renew the cable subscription because of my sister's board exams(which a certain Mr.Sibal was working overtime to obviate,thats a whole different article altogether so we'll put that on the backburner for now), plus I had read and reread the 100 odd novels that i owned.To top it all, in his quest of becoming the next biggest online gamer,my 11 year old brother had ensured that our phonebill skyrocketed through the roof and nearly gave my dad torsades-de-pointes which made him find an alternative use for the data cable.(hint: my mum got herself a new clothing line).This is the kind of pickle i found myself in at the start of the holidays.

One evening my dad came back from the office looking chirpier than usual and announced in the living room to noone in particular,"I have got a wonderful idea"Now for any normal family that last comment would seem perfectly harmless but then again we are no normal family,we are after all 'The Sharmas at no 21'.No sooner had he said it that my mum rolled her eyes so far back that her eyeballs knocked against her cerebellar lobes and i caught my sister and younger brother exchange a look which said "here we go again!!!"As i mentioned before i hadnt been home for a long time so i was a little slow in coming out with my excuse with the result that by the time i opened my mouth to speak,my mum,sis and brother were alredy done with their excuses and i found myself staring back at my dads glare,which ominously conveyed"how are you gonna get out of this one now????".During the course of next 10 minutes i was told to wake up at an unmentionably early hour the next morning for going to a yoga class and how my generation was the laziest bunch of slumbering sloths which needed to discover the healing powers of yoga(seriously i was almost convinced he was working for Baba Ramdev).

Next morning(how can you call it morning when you cant even see the bloody sun???!!!!) kicking and screaming i got out of bed and before i could say the word pneumonia i found myself panting like a rabid wolf tryin to keep up wid my dad who was sprinting in the name of jogging despite it being cold enough to declear an ice-age alert.After 20 min and many god-forsaken miles later (as i began sending an s.o.s to Dr Anurag Shrivastava of AIIMS for amputation of my now gangrenous feet)we entered this naturopathy centre and assembeled inside this gigantic hall.

#27

All in the names of a god unfound,

mosques are plenty and temples abound.

While food is scanty and smiles are few,

he enjoys in heaven with indifference anew

Bound in lovely metaphors,

religions are false hopes.

A bit more patience, a tad more faith

chant the saint and popes.

A race condemned to bear,

the passing of each day.

Made to feel so guilty ,

even when it did not betray,

Waiting for his countless promises to fulfill,

tears we shed and blood we spill.

He hasen't moved,he never will

because our almighty is sleeping still.

#26

I saw a faded painting ,

on a crumbling old wall.

It spoke of times passes by,

of times never to befall.

It took me to a place,

a wonderland far away.

Dusty be it may,

I liked it anyway.

Now when i feel alone or simply sad,

the one thing i recall,

is the painting i once saw

on a crumbling old wall.

#49

I stand a tree in autumn,

and leaves begin to fall.

They keep on falling , falling

it seems i'll lose 'em all.

The skies and winds are poor,

and begging is the land.

The only things to move,

are the silence and the sand.

Without my viridian cover,

I feel so barren so bare.

People come and people go,

I just helplessly stare.

Autumn has now been gone.

Look! how lovely is the rain!

I stand alone and sad.

My autumn still does remain.

#44

I am a lovely line

forced to bend.

I am a story sublime

without an end.

I am a crooked crow

with a broken wing.

I am a sad song

no one cared to sing.

I'm just a bunch of nothings

looking for something

in a world that seems

so full of everything.

#08

Each and every single day

Something within me cries

Something breaks,Something bleeds

Something seemingly dies

I'm trapped within these seven walls

The shadows grow and gloom befalls

Each and every single day

We drift apart

I can't see the end

Can't go back to the start

The bats are out and the dove is dead

Time to say goodbye,now I'm off to bed

Each and every single day

I wanted you to see

It wasnt the noisy chaos

But the static killing me

(PS: most of my poems are untitled for lack of apt titles owing to my inarticulation

the number at the top is the serial no of each one denoting the order in which they were written.over the years i threw a lot of them away so the numbers might not be in sequence)

#73

I saw the car

speed guiltily away.

I rushed ahead,

a young girl lay.

Her once pink frock

was drenched in red.

So was her chest.

So was her head.

Her eyes were open ,

still wide open with shock.

Her pale blue ribbon

didn't match with her frock.

The smile had not yet gone

from that lovely little face.

Though her gut lay split open,

she still retained her grace.

I pitied her friends and family,

who had no idea at all

that one man's mistake

was goin to kill them all.

I asked the Holy Bastard

and his Holy Father and all,

How,What and Why the hell

did they not return

that poor wretch's call ?

I tried and tried

but could not pray

'coz somewhere silently along with her,

my faith had died away.

The first one

Greetings fellow comrades,

hope you are well and getting closer to the actualisation of your dreams.

i am not creating this blog to fish for sympathy or out of frustration or due to any neverbefore heard resons.

my reasons for finally joining the blogging bandwagon are two:

1-because i am sick of waiting around for a friend whom i could talk to freely without fear of being judged or mocked,who gets me and doesnt require constant sucking up to.i do not require your approval or pity,just a little understanding and participation in my growth as a being which u need not consider as doing me a favour for i hope to reciprocate to the best of my ability.

2-because lately i have been plagued by an apprehension that i have begun to chip around the edges,like i am starting to forget myself in ways i promised i wouldnt,like i am beginning to fade away.

with that said

lets embark on this journey.

bon chance

ps:u can find me at piyush020691@gmail.com