When your only job is hunting for one

And here I am, sitting in a bus, en route to my college, The road is cold as is ice in winter, and is surrounded by dense foliage. Winter showers snow outside, but it is cold inside, both the temperature and atmosphere, For each life that travels with me, has its head hung, not at least in shame, or in at most fear. It is just a piece of technology has burdened their necks and deafened their ears, Some random smileys now define what used to be laughter, and the new God has dried up their tears. Each life has its own song to listen to, but has no story to tell, nor has it a talk to talk, And as the devotees have even offered their eyes to it, it is too dangerous for them to alone walk. Thinking so, I look out the window with eyes expectant, as I am now bored of seeing rocks, And shocked am I, by what I see! An emotional dilemma of dismay and elation does lock Me in stupefaction! For the exuberance I see is a deviant so drastic, A realm where love is absolute and unbiased, where no act i...

People do the strangest of things in their lives. They live a consistently self-induced miserable lie, and yet constantly discuss other peoples' lives. They discuss the lives of their friends, their colleagues, their peers, their relatives, their roommates. They talk about their opinions, their personality, their choices and decisions, their relations and relatives, their morals and values and religion. Now, these people that they talk about; they don't necessarily affect their lives in any fancy manner. Their choices may or may not cause the complete upheaval of one's life and routine. How they talk, eat, laugh, bathe, clean their room, cry or chat on the phone, will only affect a person as much as a yowling cat or a buzzing honeybee does. A discussion about whether they clean the bathtub or the commode after using it or not, should not lead to how they were badly raised by their inefficient parents, or how they can never succeed and make good relations with anybody becaus...

One day, when the clock struck four past midnight and the birds and their chicklings started to wake their surroundings up with incessant chirping and cooing, and I’d sat myself down to write, I realized something that was both very sudden and very critical. I had started writing in a manner that used so many ornate and bumptious words, and unnecessary and unending figures of speech, with a sentence structure as complex as a Rubik’s cube of cosmic dimensionality, that the underlying meaning seemed to lose its essence and impact. See? I realised that the idea I wanted to convey should always have been more important than the glamour and glitter around it, that the presentation should be more lucid and direct as opposed to my regular convoluted and philosophical, and that sentences shouldn’t be [too long for people to read / unnecessarily long]. This idea humoured me for a while, as I understood that, of course, including humour is also necessary [in pr…. No ]. While writing this, ho...

The beginning is an end to a prior beginning . The prior beginning, in my case, was the Master's degree that I was so passionately and fervently pursuing; taking up courses, both online and offline, conducting theoretical and experimental research, working my mind like an omnidirectional wrecking ball conquering and deconstructing all that came in its path. But that was all going to be over now. My mind had, till then, been a sizzling mess of ideas, both mature and novel, buzzing around like bees crazed from the smoke released by an angry beekeeper that the world was. That mind was finally arriving at a stage where it could show those bees a new home, with new rooms and having new activities and responsibilities. That was, only if it could find the path and the way for them to reach there. In this path-finding algorithm, the first step was to scour for jobs that could be in alignment with what I had collected over 2 years as my personal arsenal during my conquests as a wrecking bal...