Ohhhhhhhhhh PT!

This post is a dedication to all my friends and many other students that I may not know of, who are struggling to get their OPTs. If it is any respite, with just about a few months to go, many more of us are surely gonna join this wagon. With two of my room-mates also involved in this struggle to get work authorization, the cunning writer in me needs to go no further than Boston to seek a few more examples, and there you have it, yet another post. Through this post though, I want to convey that I shall pray for the people that I know of, and send out a few anonymous requests, for there is no shortage of takers. It's also a request to all the readers of this post to wish good luck to our budding desis. When things work out eventually, we are all gonna laugh it off some time in the future, then why not try it now. Hope this brings a smile on your face, which most often is 'optional'. For once, the choice is yours.....Peace!


I thought my life took a turn,
banks on the road, banks by my side, secured
that it was time to let the rubber burn, rest assured.
A card in my pocket, jacketed heart, all hands off guard.
Rickety Honda gone long, my Jag was on the road again,
even a blind soul could dig it; my life was on the fast lane.

I thought I had hit the freeway, so I took the GPS off,
and just before she died, she uttered slyly : "exit right!"
Now I am back on the road again, with directions all,
with nowhere to go, on roads to take me where I want.
Shaking my head, I stare at the map again,
even before I could realize that I was lost.

Looking back is never easy, so I took the rear view mirrors down,
like begging to a beggar for a quarter, life's made me a clown.
I never asked for a red carpet underneath my feet, only ground,
then you tied my legs and asked me to clap,
only on my hands when I walked around.

My teacher said in school, that I had a long way to go,
only little stood between me and the elusive dream,
my choices, a piece of paper, and my fire within.
I chose it, racked my brains, got my offer-e- joinin',
I burnt, ash is what's left of my competition,
I stomped the paper then, and it has come to haunt.
I hate it, when she is so god damn right, her taunt!

My vivacious self through a boulevard of flowered streets,
I was made to stretch out my arms, to hunt for my charms,
and just when I thought a petal came down to peck me on the cheek,
I found a thorn with no rose on.

Now this is a situation like never before,
Like I know what's 911, but don't have a phone to call,
I know what needs to be done, just don't ask me how.
Walking on the street, a poet saw my mind on my face,
he stooped low, slid his glasses on to his nose, to say,
"You know how to shoot a rifle, just don't know how to take an aim!"

They call it 'Optional' , and you 'Practically Train' for it all,
Now the 'Option' ain't there no more,
and here comes the buzzer: duty's call.
With nowhere to look, I look up to see who sees it all,
"I wanna go to Vermont, but couldn't you wait for the fall?"

The Savage Mountain?

This is the fastest post that I have written so far. It took me about 20 minutes to compose. I guess it would seem obvious to you once you browse through. Don't know why, but I think am going to remember this post for quite some time.

Cold tar, of a combination bizarre,

in shades of Grey, intermittently black.

Displaying the moods of nature, of terrains, of paths of cry.

Ten feet of width, and people pass, with little regard,

for what lies around. Prayers; subtle, fearing a shroud.

Huts, of a combination bizarre,
like splattered bursts of civilization,

proofs of a unified individualism,

disparate yet bonded, in a manner vague.

Of jewels against a green slumber,

like gems on a big fat belly,

reflections of what lies above,
twinkling in the distance, quiet and naive.

Paths, of a combination bizarre,
now extinct, like wrinkles on an aging face,
sword-marks, a blueprint: narrating footsteps,
exaggerated by the moon, pacified by the Sun's galore

They say the mountain still comes to life at night,
to reach out to its remains, to heal its self.
Little do they realize, amidst their honey dreams,
After a gruesome day, its the right time to sleep.

Pain, of a combination bizarre,
swaying by his ridges, she whispers in to his ears,
may be an anecdote, a few resilient words,
while he sits there triumphant, bruised yet amused.
Emotions of the inexpressible, an occasional slide,
as he tries to shrug it off, all this, bearing the human load.

Wise men say that I am closer to the heavens,
I thank the gods for the absence of the 'human touch'.

Sharad Kanwar Raj
September 21, 2008

To really love a woman!

To really love a woman
Just once you let her know, and then step aside,
Load the reel and leave her to let her feel
She may act confused, will not accept
even though its natural to be bemused.
If you can bear around to watch and hear
when she lurks around to seek a logical reason.
Explaining all this while; her situation
and makes you feel like you really stand a chance.
You know that you really love 'a woman'.

To really love a woman
To understand her - you ain't gotta know it deep inside
as impossible as it may seem, there's always more, though, out of sight.
Hear every curse - in multilingual words
N' take away the handle - when she wants to fly
Then when you find yourself uttering apologies, lips down,
lyin' helpless with folded hands in her arms
You know you really love a woman

When you love a woman you don't tell her
that she's really wanted? Tactical blunder.
When you love a woman you tell her that she may be the one
she needs somebody to assure her
that your misery is gonna last forever
cos she wants to be your only comforter
So tell me have you ever really
- really really ever loved a woman?

To really love a woman
Let her hold you, by the collar
till she knows that you can't take it anymore
Then wait until she sets back your tie,
and confirms the fear of your unborn children in your eyes
You know you really love a woman

Just tell me have you ever really,
really, really, ever loved a woman? You got to tell me
Just tell me have you ever really,
really, really, ever loved a woman?
If you have ever loved yourself,
how can you ever really love a woman?