(Un)learned (Haiku #5)

Remember wisdom

How do you unlearn the learnt

How do you think again


A Leash for my Sanity

If I could confront

my sanity with a look

and a leash to boot

I’d have my life pulled

from the pages of a book

which I have yet to write

from chapters that know

no boundaries and no sin

where the Devil is innocent

where the angels are drunk

where we revel in transgression.

I need a leash for my sanity

do you hear me

I need a leash

for a sanity

that was never mine.

Cookie Jar Philosophy

I’ve been job-hunting for the better part of the last hour and I feel like I’ve made no headway whatsoever. After a guilt trip induced by a bout of exuberant spending at the book fair (A brand new still-in-plastic-seal condition works of Kafka for 100Rs? Why the hell not?!), I’ve decided to make money instead of haughtily casting it away like largesse. But then again, that’s what we all say, isn’t it? So I’ve made a cookie jar to keep my spirits up. One cookie for each job applied to. Till now I’ve had just one, but that wasn’t because I applied for anything, I just wanted to test whether the cookies were fresh. Are they? You bet they are. I keep eyeing them every now and then but I’m practicing self-control. ‘CONSTANT VIGILANCE!’ as the fake Mad-Eye Moody would have said.

I bought 21 books at the book fair. I still haven’t finished the books from last year’s fair but it’s more the thrill of collecting that drives me (such consumerism, much wow). My new dream is to turn my hostel room balcony into a cafe where girls can come and chill around in their boxers because it’s not fair that guys get to chill at the roadside chai shops and stuff in their boxers but we can’t because for the sake of our own safety, it’s best we cover ourselves up. I dream of philosophical evenings spent drinking filter coffee brewed in the room while lazing around on that tiny 30 square feet platform in the sky, basking in the waning sunlight and discussing revolutionary politics in the backdrop of pink and orange sunsets and the flicker of distant streetlights. We might start a movement. For the sake of wage equality and the rights of hamsters; for food security and claustrophobic goldfishes; for global warming and stockings for amputated frogs. We must seize the day -and night- mostly night because we have classes and work during the day. Burning metaphorical midnight oil (because electricity) while metaphorically penning down (because MS Word) spurious ideas that make our eyes go wide, set our minds aflutter and our voices rise with passionate rage. We will print edgy bathrobes because t-shirts are too mainstream. We’ll sue oil exploration companies for stripping penguins of their homeland and build orphanages for polar bear babies. They who tell us our music’s not right and our morals too right, our socialism too idealistic and our weed too strong, we’ll make them cease and desist and then we’ll divide and conquer. We’ll make the rules and break them all. And then we’ll rebuild it all from the ashes.

I got a little carried away there. I think I found a decent part time job writing for a travel blog. I hope they take me. I hope they don’t mind my occasional attempts at overthrowing their management and practicing small scale coup d’etats.

 *fingers crossed*