Gallery

South Indian Filter Coffee Maker put to test with single-estate Arabica Beans (sans chicory). Surprisingly, mellow flavor.


P.S: Sorry, fellow redditors who are here. Imgur is blocked here by my ISP. This is in no way a promotion. I had simply no other place to upload the entire album.

You can read more about Filter coffee  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_filter_coffee)

Key


A roving troubadour is in a fix.
Shelter and wine, is all he seeks
Faraway lies an abandoned cabin
Mile walk from this dull and drab inn.

A narrow orifice- a portal.
Key to which, sits in a bottle.
A key to the avenues unknown,
He’s left to explore, all alone.

As he unlocks, the door creaks
Ominous lull punctuated by squeaks
Bleak ambiance, redolent of mortality
Here death lingers with alarming alacrity.

He hums maudlin and dark tunes
Of stories told by the wall runes.
He pours himself a shot of whiskey
He drinks to the moon, stars and this key!

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Vespertine Melancholia


Mind harks back to the near past.
As my somnolent brain tries to
piece together incoherent fragments,
into something cohesive.
Your portrait, your visage
-an argument against entropy.

Oh, how on that innocuous day
you rekindled love inside a forlorn heart!
How you made a stoical man
quiver in an ecstatic shock!
All that and much more,
without even acknowledging my existence.

My futile attempts at
requiting our love.
I have resigned.
Your existence-
a refuge from my stultifying life.
Mine- your dire tristesse?

“Vicarious Embarrassment/Fermdschämen”


Scanty boulevard.
Leaves they rustle
to sing in gratitude,
of the blowing breeze.
As another balmy
spring day culminates.
And, as it always has,
death lingers.

The dusk is upon us.
oh look, the moon has risen!

Your gait is placid
mine is rather hurried.
We strategically time
a furtive glance.
Alas, we fail!
Our eyes, they meet!
And, as it always has,
death lingers.

Shame is upon us,
oh look, our ego has fallen!

Ah, a sigh of relief
we collectively breathe.
No passersby to
this odd encounter.
Only the moon,
who hides itself behind
the diaphanous clouds
in vicarious embarrassment.
As, I, go my way,
you, go yours!
And, as it always has,
death it lingers!

Love was upon us,
Oh look, out of love, we have fallen!

“For Opposition”


The impending elections have stirred a huge clamor of opinions, pouring in from both the highbrows and the lowbrows of the society. The last few months have seen the best and worst of the factions contesting the elections. I, on the other hand, having never utilized my suffrage (and being tied up in college for my first suffrage exercise) thought it behooved me to not cast aspersions or go on a showboating expedition.
Before today, I was apathetic to the party politics, not neutral, not biased, but had shrouded myself as a keen spectator and had consequently insulated myself from the mire of politics, both in real life and on the internet. I took solace in the fact that the democracy is inherently flawed and its ineffectiveness, is a foregone conclusion, no matter who is or will be on the helm. But truth be told, I sure did felt left out from all the drama unfolding back home. Being in an alien land, I felt aloof from politics, and our state’s inert participation in the center, never really piqued by curiosity for national politics. But today I’d like to break my silence, as I put in a few words edgewise, in this already cluttered hubbub of opinions. But before I opine, few things to consider, this post is written on the assumption that the ruling party (whoever it is to be) will be functioning only to cater its selfish needs. Secondly,  I am not a political scholar or an expert, my views are solely based on observation and my beliefs. Finally and most importantly, I don’t endorse any political outfit, nor do my opinions reflect that of my parents’ or anybody’s, for that matter.

We have two outfits, viz. SKM and SDF, locking horns for the contention of majority in the state assembly. And unlike the past 20 years, there is serious competition for the chair, this time around. The incumbent having enjoyed unanimous support and practiced kangaroo court (they are not to blame, here, it’s the lack of opposition) in the state assembly for the past 20 years, face a serious challenge from Mr. Golay and his SKM. Despite Mr. P.K Chamling’s repeated efforts to bury the hatchet with his protege Mr. PS Golay, the latter went on and formed his own party to dethrone the former, anyway. Many dismissed the SKM, as an offshoot of SDF, formed by a disgruntled subordinate. Some even called him a megalomaniac, but I believe the hunger for power is what makes a good leader. The Sikkimese populace mainly comprising of the unemployed repudiated the party they had voted to power for so long, and joined in the revolution to bring or see some change in governance. Eventually, even few of the happily employed and well-off people, decided to take sides, and step out from their ivory tower, just for the heck of breaking the political ennui that has amassed over the years, in Sikkim.

As the campaign got underway, with all its concomitant fervor, things took a drastic turn, when there was a flurry of unneeded violence, but, all in all, it has been a rightful celebration of democracy. In the past few weeks the churlish violence has abated and people are now gearing up for the imminent elections. And people are actually looking forward to it, for it has all the makings of a closely contested elections, which makes even a single vote, highly crucial.

But here’s the thing, elections will be over soon, results will be out in due time, but only this time, the skirmish shall ensue, or at least I hope it does. Even the stubbornest of the people have figured out by now, that even if there’s isn’t any change in the topmost level there will be an opposition, regardless of who takes charge. Whether this will be a good or a bad thing, needs to be seen, though. An opposition will ensure that no matter who won the elections, ultimately the public was the winner. In this upcoming term, every decision will pass through the fastidious eyes of the opposition which will inadvertently usher well ironed-out schemes facilitating every section of the society. The opposition should be used as the conduit to lobby the Government to issue schemes in the favor of public.

So, I believe I have made up my mind, I am neither neutral nor biased and not even apathetic anymore, but I am now a full-fledged supporter of an opposition in the assembly, be it SKM or SDF. Only thing I am apprehensive of is the innate immorality of politicians. I sincerely hope that once the Government is formed, the opposition leaders don’t covertly horse-trade themselves.

Well then,  you all go ahead and voice your support for the party you believe in. I shall wait and plead allegiance to a certain party only after the elections are over, and after the results are out. And no matter how things unfold, I win, either way. And, for what it’s worth, I, a skeptic of democracy, will actually see whether it is indeed a flawed concept or not. 

 

 

Quiescent quotient


Abominable lull, a dreary vacance
Morose you, a distinct smell
Eerie spirits, there are none
It is just you and your thoughts.

Doors creak, floors they squeak
Hands tremble, your legs go weak

Gamut of emotions, in your countenance
A blind raven caws in a vocalized Braille
His wiry legs betray the necromancer’s gun
Fallowed and dormant, your brain, it rots.

Death glances a sneak-peek
As you quiver, and go bleak.

 PS: Hi there, my staunch blog readers! You might have picked up on my frequency of poetry (if we can call it that) in the past few days. I apologize profusely, if it didn’t stand up to your standards. All I am trying to do is get my mojo back. It shall remain so, until I state otherwise. Thanks, anyway! Have a good one.

“Letters lie/Questa Notte”


 

Oh, we used to write letters!
With ink to our pens,
and tears to our notebooks.
We used to wallow
in each other’s
joy and misery.
Hiatus, there were many!
But the exchanges
they never ceased.
All we did
was revisit
the old letters.
We drank the wine
of our love
to the bottom
of the decanter.
Till the acrid sediment
was all that remained.

But now, I don’t!
And dust has gathered
Inks have smeared
in the hallowed pages
that once housed
the paroxysm of emotions,
that once beget tears,
and that once explained
the ineffable.
Those letters lie
piled up in a corner.
It is a nauseous melange
of a repressed past and
the hairs that I’ve shed.
The immured memories
they still haunt me.
I might be hungover
from the wine,
But I am sober, now!

And all I write now
are these tales
of the harrowing turbulence
imbueing inside me.
I write to subdue
the disquieting
melee in my mind.
On second thought,
I still do write letters,
but to no one
in particular.
As a protagonist
of my life,
I recite a soliloquy
in an empty theater.
And I no longer drink,
but I’m still hungover!