See Ya, Soon!

The rain hasn’t ceased to fall

Even just a little while ago

As I looked out of the window

Thought I must write to you all

Write to you of the incessant rain,

And the flattering butterfly that approaches me.

 Share must I, my joy and pain.

And from all bondage set myself free.

“““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““

Well, hello my dear friends! How are you all?

Ever since I started blogging (it’s seven months now) I find my learning curve is always going up, with that, I think, I’m slowly improving. And what can be more rewarding than this! The sole purpose why I’m into blogging is because I want to learn and improve myself (it’s not a crime to improve oneself, is it?). Learning never ends, the more we learn the more there is to learn, no matter how learned we are, we must keep learning.

I’m thankful to all my fellow-bloggers who have taken their time out from their busy life and liked and commented on my post. Yes, I’m thankful only to those, who have commented and liked my post, the rest, I don’t bother. You see, I’m selfish.

Anyway, I want to let you know that I’ll be away from blogosphere till the first week of November. Well, it’s time I should immerse myself into my studies, no matter how damn boring the curriculum is, and the subjects are. Cruel Mumbai University has already fixed the dates for eggjams of the management course; unfortunately, I’m a student of management. The thing is that if I sit in front of my computer, I forget everything else, and it always amazes me how time slips away when I do that. Now, I’ll have to force into my head all those jargons and difficult words and terms which the professors have so easily written on the blackboard sometime ago — which I vaguely remember — to keep my head and my parent’s heads from hanging down in disgust, shame, and repulsion. As they say, when the going gets tough, the tough gets going!

I’ll write more, and most importantly read all of your wonderful posts when I come back. Till then everybody take good care of your body. But, remember, even if you want to look good and be like a superstar, you don’t have to use too much of cosmetics, nor do you need to do any kind of surgeries like our film stars, and you don’t even need to sing or give an album’s name something like ‘Boyfriend’ just to prove that you’re a boy which our Justin lady Bieber did, nor do you need to gaga about your cloths like our Masculine Lady Gaga.

You are good-looking and this feeling should come from within, take for an example, no one ever said that I look smart or handsome, but I feel, I am.

Did you believe that?

That was a joke!

Will be back in the first week of November, bye for now!

Copyright © 2012 RAMU DAS

A Letter To My Ex-Girlfriend

NB: This letter is supposedly written in a drunken state of mind

“““““““““““““““““““““““““““““`

O personality of sinful actions!

I’m sorry that I need to write this letter to you, but I really need to do it. As I write to you I’m drinking to my heart’s content in a bar; with my left hand I’m holding a bottle of wine, –my only company at the moment– and with my right hand I’m scribbling and doodling on a piece of paper all the high thoughts which are clouded with sadness over my mind. Believe me; believe everything I write, people here complain that I’m excessively drunk, and that, time has come for me to leave the bar… you see, it’s just 3 o’clock in the morning, and they want me to leave, morons! They are not people, as I see them, they are potatoes… no! They are lizards, no, no they are dragons. Ha ha ha! I’m drunk!  I’m drunk!  Drunk, drunk… drunnnkkk! achoo!  Am I drunk?

I ordered the waitress to pour me the 100th glass of wine a while ago, now she comes, she looks dashing in her attire, three quarter’s full is her face, she is not a potato, she is an angel, and her ruby-red lips tempts me to have a word or two with her. She gives me a wink and is pouring down the wine hesitantly. But why is she hesitating to serve her customer? Perhaps she doesn’t want me to get over drunk; [doesn’t she know I’m over drunk already?] Why is she being caring, does she like me?  I know, she’d like me now but at last she’d turn as knavish as you were. So let me better concentrate on the letter –the words are flying though, or so I see– and not get trapped this time, for I’m already too weak in the heart. Let me pour my blue blue heart out by writing when the lovely waitress pours down the red red wine on my glass. Truth comes out from the heart when a person is drunk, also speaks of love and hate, but truth and only truth a person speaks when chemically imbalanced he is made.

Hold on, let me take a sip, and my mind’s chain let me unzip.

Done.

Ah, yuck! It’s as bitter as you were! Your bitter love and thoughts are running through my heart and spine and brain and… aha… ah… achoo!

What I intend now to say is… is… is… I loved you truly; I liked your smile, your laugh, and your beautiful black glistening eyes, I liked the curl of your hair, I liked the touch of your soft skin, I liked your sexy voice, and I liked your smell, too… I liked everything about you … But you broke my heart, You… You… You… broke my heart! You broke the heart of the greatest literary figure of 21st century, you shall never be forgiven for that, mind you!

Now, a potato comes to me and puts in his hands on the pocket of my Levis jeans, takes out my purse and a wad of thousand rupee notes from it, I say nothing, instead, I give him the rest of the money –coins– I’ve on the other pockets of my pant and shirt.

Am I drunk?

I feel like vomiting and the world seems upside down, I try to move but every time I try, I fall down, and I’m falling down now. A gorgeous young woman is helping me to stand straight by slipping her arms around my hips; I keep staring at her and finally say: ‘chick, I like your boobs, they bounce well.’ As I said that, instead of getting a ‘thank you’ from her, I hear an echoing sound as though someone has slapped someone hard on the face, but who has slapped whom? Now a lizard approaches me, a speaking lizard it is, and utters something like: ‘Don’t beat this man, he is drunk.’ As he speaks he points his finger at me, ah, he’s referring to me, and the wicked woman just slapped me! She is a bitch! But I couldn’t feel any pain; perhaps the wine has made me stronger. Now, I want to see if any damage has occurred to my precious face by the slap of that disgusting woman. Looking at mirror I see: one me, two me, three me, four me, five me, oh! What the fuss is all about? What is happening? I am drunk, drunk, drunk, I am… brmmmmmmppp!

Tell you what. [What?]  Since the time you left me, I’ve realized that I’m a good-looking man with whom many girls want to spend time. You see, love is really blind for it blinded me and I could see no one but you and only you. But, now my eyes are wide open, and I’ve awakened from the deep slumber of your bitter love. And what is this I see? I see everything as I wished they were. Believe me, even Angelina Jolie is saying she’s tired of Brad Pitt, and she’s more than willing to let her children call me their dad. She says she’d help sign me a deal with Warner Bros! That means I’ll be the next Superman of Hollywood.

But, to hell with that life! I don’t want to be with Angelina Jolie or any other girls. I’m a man of integrity, you know. I cannot act like the bollywood’s hitman Emraan Hashmi who asks for sugar from every less seductive girl, and tries to dip his beak in every other girl.

How are you? How is your new love? Caught a big fish this time, eh? Hope you’ve told him that you would love him till the end of your life just like you told me once. This perhaps you’ve said to gazillion of other guys foolish enough to have fallen for you. Tell me; tell me, what magic spell did you whisper this time? Hope your new love is from a wealthy family, unlike me. I’m sure he can take you to expensive theatre and buy popcorn for you every now and then; he can give you treats at McDonalds on a daily basis, buy ice-cream for you as and when you demand. Wish I was in a position to take care of all your whims and fancies. I apologize.

Did you give him all those nicknames by which you used to call me: My baby, my bacha, my janu, my shonu, my darling, my golu, etcetera, and etcetera?

Do warn your new love not to glance at any other girls passing by; let him behave as saintly as possible.  He should receive the same treatment as I did. Now, I have known being possessive is your birthright and known that ‘possessiveness’ is a word solely reserved for you; don’t worry, I’ll never interfere in your matters as you’re not mine anymore, but for sure you can interfere with my life as much as you want, for I’m still slightly yours. I’ve learnt to let anger live and die within me without letting it outburst (thanks to the anger management book I’ve read recently), I can now swallow my anger for I’ve known the outcome of a decision one makes while one is angry is always devastating. However, don’t think that I want you back. No, no, I don’t.

A person can get used to anything. As they say, time heals everything. Only in the beginning it seems painful, but when a person starts drinking (just like me) it is not going to be painful for the rest of a person’s life. Wine keeps me rocking all of the time nowadays. I know, your memory won’t be erased entirely in such a short period of time, but the more I drink the more it helps.  With more massive hangovers I’ll be able to abandon your thoughts from my mind

Hey Honey, how are you? How is your new love? Do you think I’m drunaaaaak?

So how are you ……? Who am I…?

BRETHREN, FRIENDS, COUNTRYMEN, AND FELLOW SUBJECTS NEVER EVER LOVE A BITCH!

Signing off,

Yours but not yours,

The King of the world

Copyright © 2012 RAMU DAS

You Are So Unkind!

Much I’ve seen and much felt: Old, new, friends, and foes

I know who cares and loves, and who adds to my woes

My faults I tried to wash away, if any, there has ever been

Yet, I’ve been accused of being private, arrogant, and mean.

 

Promise I to you, that truth is what I only preach

Though, at times, rude I’m may seem in my speech

But just care to consider and try not to be out of my reach

Love that you offer, I’ll return the favor be you a goddess or a witch.

 

Young lass, you cared and implied love (though, not said)

Love lasts in hearts that is pure’s

But that love (that I thought was love) just did fade.

Tell me, how, then, am I your’s?

 

You always wanted to converse with me

And much did I like you and wanted to make you feel free

Concerned I was about you, as I have always been,

And don’t want you to despise me,

Sometimes I don’t, sometimes I do mean

All that I say; I say that you may heartily grin.

 

I wanted to see you laugh and giggle

But so unkind you turned, yet feelings I tried to desist

With hope that you might like me, I did wiggle

My hope is just hopeless, for your intention is to punish

 

I vow not to say a thing, not a single thing!

If that gives you pleasure, and if that’s what you desire

And I’m ready to lose the sense of my being

But my infinite love for you’ll keep burning like fire!

 

Pretended, yes pretended I have, like, not a thing I know

False love, pride, wealth, fame and vanity’s glow are all fatal blow

Prudent, I think, it is to be humble, oh, and what is there to show?

Simplicity, honesty are both strength, yet you thought I’m low.

 

A mere trick to know you better and to speak with you

That I interrogate for suggestions, an answer, or a clarification

Exclusive trick it is, and I judiciously play only with few

My lonely pursuit: writing; my moderate ambition

But oh! Your help means nothing to me.

Your wealth and accolades are yours to keep, from them I try to flee

Nor do your skills, scores, ranks, mean nothing to me

That’s yours, that’s yours; wish you more of it so happy you always be

 

Consider me an eccentric, and I’m as good as a droll

We are not yet done; not very well we played our part

Not just a droll I’m also a Muller, or to you perhaps a fool?

All that has gone, has gone, however, things anew we can start

This thirst for love, I thought, might bring us bliss

But your recent gesture, by all means, was just a painful kiss.

Your recent gesture separated us and took us miles afar

As though stranger I’m, and my proximity to you… you deter.

 

All my worth is on the verge of decay

What value one might intend to add?

To survive can I find no better way?

Cruel love you’re making me extremely mad.

 

Yes, blunders, I admit, sometimes I made

And experienced fear and hurtful hate

But, leaving me uncaringly now that you run

Pity it is, oh love, but such love I shun.

 

And mind you! Never say my love I didn’t display

For I did, as much as I could, in my own way

But you! Did you ever think of me even a wee bit?

When I tried to come closer and attempted to talk

As though, I was someone below your standard and not fit

That ignoring me, boisterously, here and there you did walk

 

I did come with hands clean and intention good

But noticing your gesture, changed my entire mood

Oh, how much you abhor me, I’d never known nor thought

Ah! What love is this, if such malice for me you’ve got?

 

Am I so wretched that an untouchable you make me feel?

Oh! Why do you cause me so much pain that is not easy to heal?

Glimpses of true love and tenderness in you I fail to see

If this is my fate and such life is, so it be!

 

Copyright © 2012 RAMU DAS