The Lid and the Lunchbox - Doctrines Vs Child

I don't know why but I think I should write this:

Just Now I saw Sundar, a colleague of mine cleaning his Lunch box and right on the table there was a shiny steel cover of that box which was dirty few minutes ago. Guess who had enlightened that lid of the lunch box - Me!

Well, after the "Yoga Neendra" when I resumed my chair to do some work, Sundar offered me some of the pomegranate seeds & green grams. Initially I thought should out-rightly reject his proposition as I was full but then I felt it would be weird to reject the kind of love which an another reflection of yours wants to share it with you (Heavy advaita words! Is it not). Respecting his offering I said "yes!", and took few of the seeds. After a while I finished the same and got too busy with my work. Meanwhile, I forgot to clean that Lunch box lid. Then after an hour or so Sundar came and said "give me the lid". I said "no, it is my duty to clean it up because I was the reason of the leftovers inside that lid." After initial moral-friendship persuasion,  sundar left the box on the table and left for some work. I picked the lid and saw the box, someone inside me said that take the box with you as well, but I didn't. Not sure whether it was my ego or I was being too practical which made me not to touch the box in which sundar ate. I went to the washroom and cleaned the lid and make it shiny and put it next to the dirty box.

As I saw Sundar cleaning the box and I thought "Why the hell I didn't cleaned the box?".  And the every present guilt consciousness nibbled me gently but fortunately I got over it soon. There are few points to take into consideration.

1. The fact that I don't wanted to be an externality on sundar. I was having this Swami Vivekananda Type of belief that "If you have disheveled something it is you who is supposed to clean it up". But what about others dirt, whose responsibility is to clean it up??

 2. If I was at sundar's place, at the time of cleaning the Lunch box I would be very disappointing over the way I had been behaved. Was it the correct way to behave?

3. What about the Love and the Adavita (the one) philosophy which I always believed. Where did it went all of a sudden when the actual time came to implement it.

If someone is reading this I am damn sure s/he must be thinking that what kind of ass has written it. For objectivist, what I did was more than correct because this is the way one should behave. For Idealist It was indeed a great act to clean your mess of your own. But what about a kid who is there inside all the time, crying not because he wants to dissociate himself from the good old rock solid doctrines or so called principles but because he don't want his share of LOVE to compromise in the name of Principles.

Maybe Bharti Ma'am (My Boss at ILO) is right when she says "Just do what you love to and don't be football of others opinion".

Maybe I can feel these all unimportant things because of the increased "AWARENESS" 

"Crafting an Effective Writer: Tools of the Trade" - My final Paragraph Assessment Detail

Your grade is 88, which is simply the grade you received from your peers. See below for details.

Topic #3

Identify and describe at least three (3) ways a person, male and/or female, is recognized as an adult in your culture.

Adult in any society is recognized primarily by his biological and legal characterization, but in India, a land of diverse and ancient culture, adulthood primarily deals with maturity. An adult is someone who knows the art of living. According to many ancient book of oriental wisdom, an adult(man/woman) is recognized by three ways viz. thought, deeds and voice.

The most easiest way to recognize an adult is through his voice, because it is the easiest projection of one's self. There are three types of voice viz. soft, harsh and normal. Soft and harsh voice are at extremes, while those having soft voice could be recognized as an adult depending on its gravity, people having harsh voice are often not treated as adults because it signifies lack of maturity. As far as normal voice is concerned it lies somewhere in between soft and harsh voice. The voice which hurts nobody is a normal voice. Those who know when to modulate their tone according to the circumstances keeping in view of thers feelings are generally recognized as adult. 

Second most important trait of a man is his deeds or Karma. Deeds are often bifurcated as good deed or bad deed. Philosophically speaking, it is very difficult to bifurcate between a good deed or a bad deed. Depending on the viewpoint, good deed can be bad deed for some one and vice-versa is always true. Good deed is something whose repercussions doesn't harm anyone and bad deed is something whose repercussions always harm someone. Those persons who continuously strive to do good are considered as adults.

Thirdly, the most complex one, thought. Thought is something which determines the genuinity of a person. A good thought can never harm someone and is never against someone, that's according to Mahatma Gandhi is true form of non violence. A person having good thought is indubitably an adult because it is reflected by his behavior and all the above two, voice and deeds respectively are automatically the highest. As far as bad thought is concerned, it is related to immature person who lacks true wisdom, he/she may be biologically or legally adult but in his own just eyes he is never an adult. The good thought and bad thought can be considered as selfless thought and selfish thought respectively, and orient culture never acknowledges a selfish person an adult.

The person, be it male or female, whose voice, deed and thought are good, that person in real sense is an adult. In true sense adult is someone who is wise enough to check his thoughts, just enough to check his deeds, rational enough to control his voice and enlightened enough to know the art of living.

Evaluation/feedback on the above work

Note: this section can only be filled out during the evaluation phase.

Addresses Assignment:

Score from your peers: 10

Topic Sentence:

Score from your peers: 10

Organization:

Score from your peers: 5

Unity:

Score from your peers: 5

Transitions:

Score from your peers: 5

Specific Details:

Score from your peers: 10

Concluding Sentence:

Score from your peers: 10

Sentence Variety:

Score from your peers: 10

Style:

Score from your peers: 10

Spelling/Homophones:

Score from your peers: 4

Verb Forms:

Score from your peers: 4

Capitalization:

Score from your peers: 3

Punctuation:

Score from your peers: 2

Overall evaluation/feedback

peer 1 → i am also an indian and i loved reading it.

peer 2 → The paragraphs convey a lot of great ideas. It is indeed a very well-written article, if I may call it so. All that is missing, are a few finishing touches here and there. Otherwise, great work!

peer 3 → My friend, this is really an eye-opening writing; I'm deeply impressed by the India version of "what being an adult mean", you are a people of great wisdom and benevolence. Besides, I would like to inform you that your writing is in want of conjunctions and pronouns in certain places.

peer 4 → The phrase " that's according to Mahatma Gandhi is true form of non violence" it is either " that's according to Mahatma Gandhi it is the true form of non violence" or " that's according to Mahatma Gandhi it is a true form of non violence". The phrase "The most easiest to recognize an adult" is grammatically incorrect it is either "The most easier" or "The easiest".

sick wish !

Whenever m sick (wait a second! For my intelligent readers lemme clarify that this sick is not a figure of speech its literally) and vulnerable I have this very thought of unraveling the mystery of life after death, so I pray to god that make this day my day of Armageddon or in less easy words hit me baby one last time aka kill me!! But deep down inside I know god, if he exists, has got better things to do than to hear my Sick(both literally and figuratively) wish !!

So I was having this uncanny thought at 10 p.m and was also felling bit sleepy, all of a sudden one more thought came. When I was in class eight, there was a boy named Shantanu moitra who eventually used to be my best friend, the only paradox is I never have meet him ever since. I thought, yaar what if tonight god has got nothing serious to do and he mistakenly paid undesirable heed to my plead, mera tooh kahani khatam. So I opened my lappie and start searching the aforementioned person one last time, guess what i was lucky to find him. I then send a friend request to him and within 5 mins he accepted that. cool is it not ! I thought yaar gajab ho gaya, its been a while (12yrs to be exact) since I had heard of him and all of a sudden he is here ready to chat. Great !!

We chatted like old lost friend, exchanged sweet memories with our contacts number. He told me that his father once again got transferred to Jamui and right now he is in the same apartment where he used to live 12 yrs back, I was very happie to hear that. When i queried about his mom and dad, he told me that they are on tour and they will be arriving not before tomorrow noon. He then told me that's the reason he can stay online as long as he wanted to, because his parents were away and he had the house to himself. We stayed there for a few hours exchanging sweet memories. Soon enough, my mum began calling out for me to go to sleep. As I was about to log off, I asked Shantanu what he was doing tomorrow, thinking he might want to stop by my place and have some nice time. He didn't reply for a while, in his chat box i was seeeing this message

“Shantanu is typing a message." Then it went blank.

“Shantanu is typing a message.” Nothing again.

I thought leave it I’m going to bed, tomorrow we will talk about it. It was strange for him to stop replying like that.

Next day when I logged on to facebook chat I saw his green light was on. He apologized for not replying last night and said he had just been busy. He asked whether I was alone in my house. I said yes! He then told me that he wanted to come over soon to meet me as he had something really important to show me, and he said he would come over soon, saying it was urgent, and then logged straight off, this increased my curiosity.

I was waiting for Shantanu when my land line rang. I got amazed to hear shantanu's dad's voice on the other end of line and i thought "wow yaar he still remember our land line number". But they were sounding bit worried as he was not in home and they thought the only person he knew in this town is me. They asked if I knew anything on Shantanu's whereabouts, to which I told them not to worry, because he was in fact on his way over my house. The phone fell silent for a moment until I heard a deathly scream from his mother in the background on the other end of the line. The father drew a deep breath, and shouted. “ Shantanu's here… He’s dead.” They had found Shantanu's lifeless body hung up on the fan in his room. I ended the call in shock, as it became apparent why he had asked if I would be home alone. All of a  sudden I heard the door creak open.

I was scared like anything so i quickly led under my bed to hide. I heard the sound of footsteps coming closer, ever so slowly. I dared not to open my eyes, but when I horrendously peaked through my fingers, I saw these pale yellow, cold, bare feet coming in to my room, almost in slow motion. I would hate to see the person such feet belonged to. As it slowly approached the bed, my heart was pounding in my mouth and I held my breath. The whole room was filled with fetid smell of a rotten dead body. Just when I couldn't possibly get any more scared, my phone let off a loud tone of a howl of a hound to notify me that I had received a message. It was from Shantanu's phone and read: “Where are you pal ...its been a while, (to be exact 12 years) i have got something very Important to tell you ?” as the feet stopped precipitously, lifeless in their foot-mark, I was half dead by then.

I was very sure that this very moment was to take among the few breaths I have left in me. All of a sudden every thing became very clear to my agnostic mind as it was confirmed that god/ghost do exists and finally he made my sick wish the biggest or say the worst and perhaps the last nightmare of my life. I was too scared to scream. Then I heard another loud knock on my door I was scared like anything thinking whether my all lost friends are dead and this time they wanted me to be the same. The rate of knocking was directly proportional to the pounding rate of my heart. When I heard the sound it was of my mother. I got so scared on the thought that this ghost of the best friend turn ghost Shantanu will definitely kill my entire family, at-least I can tell her to run away. I gathered all the available courage and opened my eyes, an found myself lying on the keyboard of my laptop, knocking continued, and me drenched with sweat thinking about my Sick Wish...!!!

When something new is born

The benign rumble is curling everywhere, and here is desperation for noise,
With holding the breath i have waited, in patience held poise.
like the acoustic lives within silence, silences we ought to rend,
just because it did start, every song is supposed to end.

Just like when something new is born, its end is made already,
Somehow we will be able to get it done, it will always be undone ultimately.
When every afflatus thrives on skeptics, skeptics to then suspend,
Nonetheless it might actualize, every new thing is realized in its end.

Beads of sweat shining against skin, vigor pulled tight,
End at a length of bandeau, arise at the gun-shot.
Nothing can start without its finish, finishes we forever procrastinate,
That it could not quite begin, every race was to unless terminate.

Skin shattering against skin , grip meets face in rose mayhem,
Men and their means changed, but fights remain the same.
For every push there is a pull, pulls to otherwise pretend,
Surer than it must begin, every fight must come to an end.

loose control..

All of a sudden i rouse in pain
high was the hangover mixed with shame
relieving was the darkness; indeed my best friend
was thinking hard why my mind played that game.

Can't remember the no. of pegs i took
seemed was drinking in hopes of falling in coma,
my false identity was in its pristine form
it make my emotions cry and mind did all this drama.

Something was rushing inside my veins
don't know how but was increasing the pain,
desperate efforts to concentrate was in vain
connection with mind was lost and i can not sustain.

Don't know from where recognized a hand
was similar to the person who died couple of years back,
it was the perfect time to loose the heart-mind strand
fake feeling of love and emotions did the rest

This was the second time i lost control due to this
gained consciousness when my heart asked whom am i cheating,
the person u are taking about hated booze like anything
and remembering him when ur head is inside bottle is sacrilegious.

Feeling of shame was not because of the defamation
itz becoz all these thoughts rushing through my head,
flaunting fake emotions was false identity's creation
flouting my most sacred relation was making me dead.

Don't know what should i do to make it go away
it is haunting my mind every second of the day,
Last Night was alone in a room of people having fiesta
today in chaos while sitting in a room hunting for siesta.

What had happened to me where is the connoisseur
all is left is an inane dilettante,
hope one day the drunk inside me will let me out
for sure never again will I drink and shout,
Until that time I will asphyxiate and hate
what i can do is just hope that's not my final fate.

Good bye.... :(

I want things to stay the same
but hands are cuffed by this inevitable change
emotions are running through my head
I found myself wishing I was dead

Its inevitable to say good bye
but the stupid heart makes me cry
the rocking 2 years comes to an end
seems days passed like speed of wind

Though time we spent together was very little
but my love for u all may never dwindle
feeling helpless and scared of being alone
coz magic of togetherness can never be felt on phone

Now all the pranks are coming my way
getting teased by friends every single day
that books a huge place inside my heart
no one can take this feeling apart

Will cherish those moments when we were good and bad
can never forget when we were happie and sad
but remembering those days eyes would loose tears
can never assemble together for tea is all what fears

Time force me to pack my dreams
doesn't matter yaar but heart screams
don't know why i am like this
but the moments we shared will surely be missed

On convocation dont get amazaed I may look fine,
But every time you turn away I will cry.
Leaving this place is something I could never do
but its a promise that I would never forget any of u... :'(

When your heart starts babbling

Heart is a mysterious organ u never really know whats going in there, the only signal it gives u is by beating inside, still its the most inscrutable in fact screwed (pardon my language but get used to it) organ like for example when u go to a bookstore and see a pretty girl, reading your favorite novel, whistling the song which has been stuck in your mind for the entire week and you think wooow hey may be she is the one; your heart forgets beating but then all of a sudden your eyes meet and that's it; your mind starts beating your heart which actually from nowhere starts beating inside your cage and i think ur mind zooms inside that cage and thats the reason why you aren't able to wander it...hold on a second, just because of your heart u think this it u are in deep shit (sorry read love here) if it is then it sucks you can'ot tell a woman u just met u love her but it sucks u can't!!

Every now and then people tells u abt other's heart, its like they have a degree in cardiology. Frequently they say "his heart is is nice", does it makes sense?? sometimes you think it does but sometimes yeah it does ..!!coz irrespective of all eccentric things you are fond of, people say the same for you(weird but true). Now a question arises here, if your heart is nice how it permits you to practice nefarious activities with someone upon someone; the moment this thought comes in your mind it makes you feel naah mind does all those stuffs, how can a pumper is able to act like this (if the only job of heart is pumping then for sure it is not responsible for all those deep shit activities, if u know what i mean). Anyways, the point is if a person is a sweet heart it does not mean his/her heart is sweet because believe me once my middle finger got cut and i had to put it in my mouth believe me the blood taste like...i seriously don't remember its taste but definitely not sweet. So, if the blood which is there in the veins/artery/capillary/whatever of your middle finger tastes like abcd then definitely it is not reaching inside your heart for pumping purpose coz heart is alwayz sweet(next time ll cut my ring finger coz they say there is some sort of connection with heart); is it not sweet heart(atleast i can solace you by this for taking all the pains for reading this weird stuff). May be some vampire would appropriately tell u about this coz u kno they are all into this business of blood sucking and the best part if u have to kill them then u have to poke their heart with a silver knife. If the heart is sweet then this analogy suggests vampires are among the sweetest persons ever known, and for sure Stephenie Meyer was the first to unravel this riddle and after that she wrote the entire saga which is known as Twilight.

If you are single and just crossed 24 then my dear friend it does not mean you are not romantic or having a cold heart. Every-time you see a couple your heart thinks (heart thinks!!!), every1 else is falling in love acting stupid and goofy and sweet and insane but mot me, why don't i want that anymore i want to want that; m i wired wrong or something, i am a cold person. When this situation arises there is a subconscious mind (why there is alwayz subconscious mind not subconscious heart) which desperately wants to tell you that you are a douche, you are a bloody mammal and mammals are warm blooded how can you be a cold person. The greatest thing about this subconscious mind is its inability to communicate directly with your heart, but heart has its own way of thinking and this process results in loneliness which is often misunderstood by some morons as solitude, but the best part is it often gives you self confidence that one day u gonna met a girl who is gonna wanna make u look like a complete idiot, she is out there some where and she is so nice rather i should say a sweet heart that universe wants you to remain single(read looser here) unless u met her and when you would met her your heart would definitely shout eureka "She is the one"..!!