Philippic rhapsody.

I'm almost awkward to initiate conversation here, yes I know it's been so long. But oh well,

Greetings, World.
Yes, I most definitely missed y'all, and hell I missed you- Blog. I don't remember the last rant, only because I've been doing something so terrible lately; keeping it all in my head. Moving on to shallow conversation; a very happy Holi to all of you. Bet you guys played with colors and jazz and for those of you rotten rears who threw eggs at me from racing cars; GOOD JOB DOUCHE, THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL YOUR SKILLS FOR LIFE.

Yeah, not much of a Holi person. Gone are the days when it used to be dry, pretty and colorful. Nothing about ink and grease please me, so yeah no thanks bye. In other news, a year of college is almost over. Just about now, I have a My Life Is A Lie moment, because I don't even know where that year went. I kept doing things, running around, thinking I'd eventually settle down; except, I haven't. I'm still finding my place, at some level. And because of this terrible running around, I've pretty much forgotten weekends and the concept of 8 hours of sleep. College is overrated. I love it, but it's overrated.
Tiny juniors from school just finished with their Boards, and I fail to see how. THEY WERE TINY. And they're now figuring out their college options. O.o
In another two months, my freshmen year will be over. In two years, my under grad will be over. No seriously, what is wrong with the world?

As you might have noticed, I'm in the mood to rant the brains out of your mind. I want to keep talking to I feel like the scum in my head gets out, you're welcome to stop reading, I won't mind. Of course I will, so leave quietly if you must. If you read on, you'll be a part of that 0.9% of the world I tolerate like right now.
Did I mention, at this point in life, my favorite career option would be to be a waitress at a shack in Goa? Good life. That will be the good life.

The rest of the college week is off, and I plan to write. It's been unhealthily long that I've come up with some piece that I'd be content with. I've just spent too much time entertaining absolute and pointless bullshit and that's enough now. I'm going to write some.
My end sem are around the corner, and I really need to get started with getting back to being a nerd. I miss it. I miss spending endless hours studying when nothing can bother me, and I feel purposeful. And once exams are over, I plan on going away from Delhi for a while. FOR A GOOD WHILE. To get a breather before second year starts and life becomes crazy again. A few of us from DramSoc and MusicSoc have plans of lifting up the productivity of the societies so we can look at ourselves in the mirror and not feel guilty about wasting our lives. I feel like we worked like idiots this year, which is why the end results were never there and we just felt wasted with migraine.

Wow, I fail at emitting happiness. Said the over competitive bastard.
Since I suddenly feel very awkward again and I don't want to talk anymore, here you go; a few pictures from different places my happy feet (lol sure thing) traveled to.

 There y'go. And now, I shall go listen to The Swell Season and hopefully that will inspire me enough to write something and show some bloody passion. Goodbye, lovelies. Thank you for reading. Grumpy Nil happens once in 86 years, I'm sure none of us will be alive for the next one. Is it me or am I really inappropriate?

Much loving,
Nil. 

The embers of a racing mind.

I can almost feel the curvature of my first thought burning away as quickly as the wing of a happy butterfly would ash away to; when inched  to an ignited matchstick. The head of the second thought was the origin of such friction and so has been the cycle of my thoughts, lately. Burnt out; even before one could live. 
A pandemonium of events uncannily containing similar emotions, all of which turn into a chaos inside a breathing room divided into two; my mind needs space. 
Examples of how fragile the think tank of our anatomy is have been in abundance, recently. And some times, I wonder; aren't we all a little tilted in the dark side, at some point?

"A calm man always has a war within him.. which is why, he is calm." ; I heard an acquaintance say, with a smirk today. And the glint in his eyes at the moment convinced me of the autobiographical statement, casually passed to push the puberty of understanding him. 
Since then, a very different spotlight surrounds his figure even in day light, when I look at him. And then I wonder, don't we just look at people? Isn't that all the shallow effort we put in to understanding the immediate wall of concrete we live in, after all? And then we wonder why pity surrounds our existence?

"Atleast this patch of Earth I'm standing on, is my ashtray." ; That was the parent of arrogance, her tongue talking. To our questioning looks, she didn't defend; she stated; that the patch of land she stood on was loyal to her weight, it was loyal to the foreskin of her body and mind. The patch of land was hers to spoil with all her ridiculous and whimsical ideas, to all the forms of salt that secrete out of her brown skin, to the lose strands of hair that fall out of her scalp to rid themselves of the overwhelming amount of turbulence beyond their roots. The patch of Earth was her. It was made out of her, and thus will wait for her slowly ashing body to come back home. The breed of such women was lost, we thought?

" The relevance of the human will and word is tragic, to say the least." ; I thought, after that one friend closed the door behind him. That one friend who was an undertone to the first quarter of my life, who was the proof of my childhood and who was the ear to every voice that made it out of my throat; and the ones that didn't. Years and years of mindless banters and baseless words exchanged in between found their way to my ear drums and I realized how relative human words are; for once the intention changes and the will demolishes, those words don't even exist enough to be called empty, anymore. There is no vessel to them, only tainted air of something that used to be. 
And one day, all those inconsequential conversations will skin the time you lost out on, alive. 


-Nil.