Macro Trouble

I had a paper on Macroeconomics today which went so horribly wrong for me that I might get the privilege of giving it a second time in the next semester. I got so bored trying to cram up jargon into my saturated cranium that it shut down completely. Clear of any moronic distractions like studies, I thought of penning down a few lines in respect of my short but fatalistic tryst with studying this monstrosity of a subject. ( As I said before, it was a short thing after all. I quit out of sheer desperation. ) I dedicate the next few lines to Macroeconomics for being the incorrigible thing that you have always been, still are, and will always be to future generations of poor, hapless management students.

Macro Trouble

Inflation is spinning webs in my head,
Of sizes that can put a Black Widow to shame.
Policies and governmental spending seem inconsequential;
How does it matter to souls concerned most about a value,
That all important figure of 0.7,
Which when multiplied by that incredulous number called the Average,
Gives us merry folks Nirvana-
The Nirvana of a C.

Philips must have drawn it,
Seeing some of 'em curves around in his University.
As if that wasn't enough,
Stagflation was invented to confuse young minds even further.
ISLM, or IS and LM, or IS-LM,
They call it by diffent names,
But it's all the same-
A collection of criss-crossing, hastily scribbled lines.
I could've drawn them better,
Using the laws of symmetry and geometry,
Of which I was a champion,
Back in those halcyon schooldays of yore.

A weak cousin of a song.

I like song-writing. I have tried my hand at it and I don't suppose I'd be any good at it in any measure. Exam season is on and this is how I spend time instead of wasting my precious time studying pointless stuff. I wrote a few lines of absolutely trash quality, the kind that comes in Pop. Yeah, I have an excuse now- These lines might just pass as yet another trashy pop song. It doesn't make for good reading but if composed well, it might turn out to be well. Touchwood. So, here goes...

"I'm all over You"

Hey. You. That voice, that tune, those lips.
I can listen forever,
I wanna lose myself and I don't wanna wake up.
Don't wake me baby, don't take me away, my baby
I have fallen for you and I will lie here,
Here in this heaven, watching you,
I'm merry this way but you are ignoring me.
Don't break this heart 'coz this is all yours.
Please stay, stay on a moment more,
Let that moment be a lifetime.

Baby, come, let's sink in this and wake up together.
This is a pleasure and this gets me on high
High in my head,
High all over you.
Girl, I'm all over you. I'm yours forever
And there is no escape for my mind.
You have taken me, babe, in full
And told me that you gotta go.
Don't go babe, 'coz I will follow you.
I'm yours all along.

The Monk and the Cops

Cops can do only so much,

Bribes promise a momentary release,

But the Old Monk marches on,

Providing the best example of customer satisfaction,

To entertainment-deprived impoverished management students.

Chilled, bubbling cola makes an enervating mix,

With that dark elixir of seven years' worth of distilled purity

To provide moments of unbridled joy to the young at heart,

Who can shake a leg to the beats of joy that come with it.

The Face

I look around, in search of that familiar visage,

With its last enduring image firmly imprinted in my consciousness.

The image refuses to fade away and so does my yearning,

To gaze unblinkingly into those intense eyes full of vivacity

Which has unknowingly driven many hearts to the last shreds of desperation,

All for one last time.

My mind races back to those happier times,

Those carefree times when it knew no sorrow

And gloom was something which just couldn't be felt.

I knew nothing apart from togetherness

And it was meant to be forever,

Until the cruel,devious ways of destiny intervened,

Ably assisted by the treacherous warps of time.

I was a lost being,

One among the multitudes who have been happily blessed,

By that holiest and purest of fixations.

There was immense joy in those initial feelings of hurt,

Rejection provided optimism

And it led to euphoria.

It felt like an endless streak of love

And how I hoped it would remain so.

Those were happier times,

Illuminated by the bright lights emanating from that blessed soul,

Coloured by the paint brush of the Artist of my mind

On the wide canvas of my life.

Sweet memories abound,

Of those leisurely walks, hand-in-hand,

Whispering sweet nothings to each other in those beautiful boulevards of life;

Of those dreams that we saw together,

Lying under the shady bowers of a sheltered life.

Those were the best days of my life,

When each day brought with it the purest joys of companionship;

When each passing hour meant another hour well-lived

And each moment created an eternal symphony meant to be savoured for a lifetime-

A lifetime of waking up to that smile which is forever etched in my memory,

And gazing lovingly at that face,

Lost for words even though they are needless in those golden moments of silence.

Today it's no more and my senses have gone numb,

More so by the loss than the lack of it.

There's a melancholic chord in every piece of music I compose,

For I have lost all capacity to love and live.

Each passing moment reminds me of nothing but the loss of happiness

And the object of my dreams;

Pleasant thoughts are but messengers from a painful past that still rankles.

I keep searching in the dark days of the present,

Hoping to find that Face in a future whick is all but grey;

The visage has disappeared in the glorious chapters of a colourful past

And I still make that painful journey through my memories,

To look at that face-

To make it all happen once again in my life.

A season of Literary disasters.

A season of literary disasters comes to a close. As a person who lives and dies by the motto, 'Never say never again!' I live to fight another day.

Literary events are far and few in between this slew of Management fests. During my engineering days, I always looked forward to non-technical fests. Same is the case with my present status a Management student. I (still) look forward to non-management(technical, in this case) fests. Unlike undergrad days, there aren't enough events to satisfy me.

So, after waiting in anticipation all these months, I located two events where I could parade my seemingly dazzling set of literary skills on display :P. And, needless to say, both ended up as disasters after putting in the hard grind to qualify in the final round. What a shame!

Let it be. I can live with it. I am at a stage of life where these things don't rankle me that much. It still rankles, albeit, not in a way that it used to be. Yes, I have matured :); but that doesn't mean I will stop participating in literary fests with undergrads as competition. I don't mind losing to them either.

My most fantastic memories of four years of engineering are from the various successes and failures that came my way in my unending quest for glory at all those intercollegiate cultural festivals. Winning was a good feeling and I wanted to make it a habit although it didn't always transpire like that.

I can still remember those innumerable disastrous quizzes where my team failed to qualify, those masterly performances in quirky events like Dumb Charades and the like, undefeated stretch in What's the Good Word? and appearing in the finals of a Spelling Bee competition for the first and last time in my life and that too on stage.

Coming third in an Antakshari competition which would probably remain my first and last official Antakshari event ever, singing a plethora of songs in my own lyrics on a mike for the first time in my life- That was totally worth the effort. I can also boast about my being a vital cog in our 4-member team which could quite rightly be called the Champion Treasure Hunters of the Trivandrum undergrad scene at that point of time. I still remember vividly those mad, adrenaline-filled moments where we ran, jumped, fought and competed like possessed men to get to the ultimate prize.

We came up with the wackiest and cheesiest of Ad Zaps once where our overtly adult references and double entendres' in our presentation led to much consternation in the saintly among the crowd but had several similar-minded young-at-heart beings in splits ! Another everlasting memory is our performance of a gay skit on stage before an audience of about a thousand college students which was so authentic that there was an attempt to boo us off the stage.

Suddenly, I got a little nostalgic thinking about all those events. In fact, I had just wanted to write a few lines about my recent literary disasters and now this post has turned into an outpouring of all my memories about a few of my 'exploits' as an undergrad. I will leave this at that. Ciao !