Saturday, November 14, 2009

A Sonnet To Suicide

Amidst deep academic strife
Yours truly decided to take his life
In overcast weather
I couldn’t decide whether
It should be the noose or the knife

The hunt ended, a noose was found
And to the ceiling fan was bound
I stood on the chair
Tied the knot with care
So as to not make any sound

From the noose, I withdrew my hand
And let go of my life-supporting stand
In a hurry
The carotid artery

Thursday, November 12, 2009

For "Srikanth", who decided to write his name on the inside of the door of a toilet in my hostel wing.

So one day I walked into the toilet and found a disgusting sight awaiting me. I shall not describe the sight for want of a passion for eliciting vomit from my readers. Having dealt with it and finally having accommodated myself as comfortably as possible in a 3'x5' cubicle, I chanced upon the name "Srikanth" on the door. A fellow who writes his name on the toilet door is worthy of an ode, I thought. And with the thought of the sight, that had greeted me just a minute earlier, fresh in my mind, this is what happened. Read on.
I, Srikanth, was ostracized by my group
I could do naught but sit here and poop
I was ignored for I was considered lame
My friends felt hanging out with me was a shame
I am a loser who forgets to brush
To pee, to bathe and also to flush
Forgetting to flush is a heinous crime
But the loser that I am, I do it all the time
So ,the next time I excrete here, the undigested remnants of what I ate
This toilet will regurgitate.