Confessions of a PhD Scholar : Part 2

a loud noise and all is lost, the words are broken 
as each piece mixes with the other, my thoughts are taken

who was that? name i wonder, pages seem to fly
rooted, flying, am so shaken, i concentrate, oh at least i try

forgetting am i? or is age around
too much thinking yet blank, the mess surrounds

almonds won't help, neither will a chit, i need lots and lots of mind post-its
stop n think, act and repent, wonder where this all at the end fits

is it what they say one becomes in the later stage
new chapter, a book or m i still on the same page

makes no sense, does it to you?
its not for all, to get in head.. maybe just for a few!

Confessions of a PhD Scholar

you sleep, quite a lot
you forget what all was taught

the dramatic emotions ever ready to pop
is this a masala film plot?

the papers fly in the air
you want to but you still don't care

the tea is cold, the fourth of the day
ideas are old, freshness seems to act a little fray

you need a chair, a blanket and your worn out notebook
scribble scribble, crossout and make new points to look

as if the drama wasn't enough, the outer agents seem to shout
you go numb, with empty eyes you look above and only pout

question the unquestioned, think the unthinkable and cry
oh you failed? don't worry, you will have to try retry and try

is this a dead end? or am i missing a major turn
till you get buttery masala script, all you do is churn churn churn!

Things that don't make sense to me

Not much to say, still I will if I may
The mind is stuck, with words I play

The dry ketchup on the bottle makes me mad
Whom do i blame: sister, mom or dad

That window pane which is not clean
That woman in my family who is unnecessarily mean

Those little bobbins on my sweater
Those freckles on my face could be better

The little snoring noise around at night
Tiffs and irritations have their own fight

People telling me how imperfect is my life
Poking their nose, in real and my business, my strife

That freezing glass of water in weather so cold
What to be done, why am I told

My undone hair, I think I might like
But what i don't are people with funny spike

Why do people lie at drop of a hat
Should I slap them or their shoulders in pity should I pat

Blame me, cause I judge one and all
But I don't judge them for their struggles, pains and the rise & fall

Blame me, cause the nonsense around is making me little sad
All in the end I have is, this world Oh my dear is a lot mad

Should I hate or love, like or not,
I respect spaces, that is what (from life) I have been taught

Senseless, oh so numb I am turning
But still more to the world am craving and yearning