Random Rigmarole 2

Here comes another rambling post... I think this blog should be renamed ‘Creation's Ramblings’. “Kreation” definitely doesn’t even give a vague idea about what to expect. In any case, the need of the hour calls for some rambling considering the phase I'm currently going through can be safely termed- Human Hater.

Hate em!
I hate all frigging humans!

'Coz they bug me.
The mutton-headed ignoramus imbeciles!!

Now, you, as my distinguished readers will take immense pleasure in pointing out that I'm a human too. That, my dear, is the root of all problems! Being born a human has automatically entitled me to be a recipient for a plethora of emotions which (and even the Gods would nod their assent to this) I definitely cannot handle.

For one, my vacations are on. The god-damned vacations. I'm stuck at home with a family that was last stocked in the super-market under the 'bothersome' section with an eye-catching "Special Offer" sign and minuscule, nearly-hidden caution tag that read "Warning: Irksome Effects. Slightest use might result in permanent loss of sanity."

So, where my father, brother and cousin (who has been especially invited to make sure these vacations go as terrible as possible) take turns with the T.V. to watch Balika Vadhu (the greatest torture man ever invented. Trust me, show an episode to Kasab and he'll tell you all you need to know about the terrorist activites... This show beats third-rate torture by a considerable margin when it comes to atrocities!), play video games and watch the extremely irritating Bakabon's Papa trying to keep pace with a turtle, and watch just about every Govinda movie that is aired (it doesn't really matter that he knows the dialogues of most of these movies by heart), respectively; then form a league of their own to make sure I don't watch the 9 p.m. movie and sulk in my non-a.c., non-cooler room with the fan running at bloody half-speed 'cause my father thinks it's a wastage of electricity if you are not drenched in enough sweat. After all, this makes sure you don't need to use the washing machine to wash your clothes as the dirt's already washed off by your sweat. As for the sweat- well, you can just dry the clothes in the burning sun which shines as if there will be no tomorrow and voila! - You saved a lot of electricity by not using the washing machine, cooler and fan.

Moreover, MTNL officials found a novel idea to fulfil their religious aspirations- a strike! So, while the denizens of Delhi were running from pillar to post to find alternate broadband and telephone connections that worked, the MTNL people were following in the footsteps of the sages of yore and had all migrated to the Himalayas. Sadly, I also happen to be an MTNL consumer and my internet had been down all through last week and I couldn’t drool over Matthew Goode and Channing Tatum work or blog.

To add to this, there is a 7-hour power cut every third day here. (That is how I learnt that the elections were over.)

Okay, I’m ending this post because I’m too bored to continue it. If you read it till now... man! I salute your patience.

Now playing: Phoebe’s “No power”

New York City has no power,
and the milk is getting sour.
But to me it is not scary,
'cause I stay away from dairy.
LA la, la LA la, LA la...

P.S.: If you're wondering when did Random Rigmarole 1 came out... it was some 10 months ago.


Mail Tales

Now, it's just not my blog but my e-mail address as well that is gaining attention (and I'm not complaining! ;-)).  A recent visitor on my blog, Anand liked my e-mail address so much that he designed an ambigram for it!!

Here it is-

(it says dovesdolphins)

And here's a link to the original post on Anand's blog.

Thank you so much Anand! :-)


My humour is Wasted on You

I was reading funny poems
And wondered if I could write one
That's why I picked the pen and paper
But now ideas I have none.

Should I write about the Rivers Known?
Or The Wanderer's great expeditions?
But isn't the Little Girl Lost? The Wanderer gone for a walk?
On what am I to base this huge sensation?

Should I write about bluetooth-enabled zits?
Or would arse-kissing bees work wonders?
I was thinking about incorporating pirate humour
When suddenly all thoughts split and lay asunder!

For I heard a distant muffled cry
Darn! It's he who's calling
It's the hysterical Chicken Little again
And dammit! The sky's falling!

What do I do? Where do I go?
There's no place to run.
And what'll happen to my poem?
The blessed thing is still undone

The blasted sky was falling fast 
I ran hither-thither and I ran helter-skelter
 The only that still wasn't in sight
Was a blessing in disguise- a shelter!

I could find no way out
I cried, I shouted, I wailed but in vain
 And in the midst of all this commotion
The poem was all but forgotten

Now death was approaching and I was helpless
And my nails I began to nibble
But then I realised- It wasn't the sky that was falling. No.
I had just pulled up the hood of my Lamborghini Gallardo  Convertible 

 Anyways: Now I've decided to give up poetry
And my attempt at humour too
What is the point of writing anything,
When my humour is wasted on you!

Author's note: The due credit of the title of this post goes to 'Rhea'lity who keeps lamenting about how her 'humour is wasted' on us lesser mortals.
As for the fact that this might have been the  lamest poem you've ever read...well, blame it on my holidays! I have nothing to do and ideas just don't strike you like Pathan's sixes when you do nothing apart from watching IPL matches and sleep.


The Hut-ke Adventure

 “Many who build castles in the air cannot build a hut on earth”. I did both! Woohoo!!!
Err.. that didn't have the 'dramatic' effect, did it?

Alright then... let us cut the crap and get to the point.

This particular Kreation has a long story behind it. Don't worry, I won't go into the details, but a little background knowledge won't hu(r)t. It so happened that my dear kid brother had to submit a project- a hut. Although his teacher informed them a week ago it was only yesterday that he remembered it (well, of course! It had to be submitted today, you see, and he happens to be the stereotypical procrastinating student and hence the delay).  Although he wanted to make it himself, I knew better to not let him do so else I would have been writing this post sitting not in my room but a junkyard (a seven year old kid can be pretty messy :P)... and that is how this hut came into being.

After I was done making it, I showed the pictures to a friend who suggested that I should "totally put it up on the blog". So, here it is, the hut complete with a pond, a gravel path and an approaching-storm sky!!

My apologies for the poor quality of the pictures. They've been taken from my crappy 1.3 MP cell phone camera.

(Click on the pictures for an enlarged version)

( In this hut where the childhood lives are the
tales of the moist future eyes
Your warm whispers in water drops count the
symbols for the blue times,
Alright, alright... Too melodramatic, I know. :P )

(The approching storm... run.. take cover... things are going to get dark now!
(Yes... scary clouds, aren't they?) 

(Oh! Even the sun is frightened, but it's putting a fight! Grr!!) 

(The view from the 'pond') 

(and another one... just for the heck of it)
 Author's note: Some interesting facts (read only if you're actually interested)
 1) It took me four hours to make it (that is not counting the two half-hour-long phone calls and numerous interruptions on GTalk or Yahoo Messenger and the time I took off to play those stupid quizzes on facebook... and... Oh! Add to it another 20 minutes when I just sat gazing the pair of scissors in my hands wondering what would be the Hindi alternative for 'deserve' (*sigh*.... another long story.... let us not even go there))
2) The tools used even includes a hammer! (How do you suppose I broke that stone, eh?). And that reminds me... I am sure I heard the aunty, who lives on the ground floor (we live on the first), shouting profanities around mignight when I was hammering away to glory! :-P
 3) I used an empty Mother Dairy 'dahi ka dabba' (a curd can, for the non-Hindi speaking friends) as the cylindrical base!
 4) Some other titles I considered for this post were- Hut-tttt ja re, na pangla le; Ye Tera ghar, Ye Mera Ghar, Hut Sweet Hut, Ye Hut (Haath) Mujhe De De Thakur. (Lol! Cut me some slack people, I was bored.)
5)  I miss the stone that I had to break. It was from my 'Rajasthan-stones' collection. The rest of the collection is intact though, so are my 'Mussoorie-stones', 'Goa-stones', 'Kashmir-stones', 'Ahmedabad-stones', 'Agra-stones'. I collect stones, yup! So, beware... or else you know what's coming your way :-P)
5) I've bored you enough, haven't I? Well... guess I'll just stop. Don't forget to leave a comment. You can even berate my horrible painting skills... I won't even mind that... as long as you leave a comment. :-)