Of Sorrows Marred By Happiness

Cared for, still unkempt, the juvenile soul-
Proved existence.
Fights his way- for is his role
Incapable of self sustenance.
Cheered by vindictive pain,
Welcomed by detest and shame.
Toiling hard only to gain-
Joyous days preserved in transient frame?

Breaking free- the irony of breathing dead.
A life in every pellet.
Struggles he- all through life.
And then back to nihilness.
Perishes like a warrior naive.
As nature sings of sorrows marred by happiness.

Rain my friend- Brishti’r moto jhore poro

Ondhokar ek antoheen raasta,
Themey jaai hridoy’er dhakkay je
shudhu..
Chaaiche na cholte ar paa ta..
Haathte chaaichhe na je aaj
bondhu..

Stand and cry your heart out
For sorrow and tears may,
Seep down into the valley,
Among the hills, lost they say.
Posterity may ne’er withold,
What in pain or fear, shall see.
Boundless thoughts in every
pellet,
A little love or care between.
Showers a life,
Of pleasure and serene.
Emotions- furnishing,
Making life so exhilarant.
Barriers and quarrels,
exonerating.
Voice of thunder,
Exorbitant heart reasoned by,
And those meaningless walls it
shatter.
Unstoppable friend against enemy
or a lie.

Moner dukkho je shey dhuiye
dilo,
Praan’er shokol byatha,
Ruddhoshaashe, hridoy holo
halka aaj mor.
Ami haathbo abar, pouchote
hobe sorgo jetha.
Raakhbo bedhe sopnogulo ke,
Thaakbe maajhe ek odrishyo dor.

What the hell.

This blog,is like totally dead.Sorro,Ishmart Boy,post stuff,man!

Ode to a Math Teacher.

Okay, here’s another (real bad) creation. It’s also violent. What? Read and you’ll understand:

Piggy, piggy, little piggy,
I wanna chop off your nose,
deep fry you in a pan,
with undies and pantyhose.
Piggy, piggy, little piggy,
I wanna kick you all the way,
into a vat of radioactive waste
where you'll rot night and day.
Piggy, piggy, little piggy,
I wanna strangle you,
stab you there left and right
like Hitler would do to a Jew.
Piggy, piggy, little piggy,
I'm so tired of you
so just hurry up and die already.
So I can cook yer stew.

Another New Author :P

Hola Guys!!!
(If there are any out there at all)
I'm the 3rd bored individual here as you can see.I actually SUCK at writing.(you can read the poem if you want evidence)
so..um if anybody actually read this then thanks i guess??


Yes I'm mature
yes,I'm a girl who doesnt give a sh!t
I just wish you'd notice
Wish you'd see how badly i've been hit.
You shattered my fragile being
Yet left my mask intact
So now i'm still left smiling
yes, that's a fact.
What lies behind that smile
You'll never know
because my true feelings
I'll never show.
As i stare into the cracked mirror
A face, contorted by hate
Leers back at me and i think,
Well, this must be fate.
What lies behind that smile,You'll never know
because my true colours
I'll never show.
You turned me into a monster,
This archangel of hate,
But you'll never know,
because it's too late.

The Question

Ahh my second post. I still don't know how many readers (if any) this blog has. But a blogger has to do his thing. So here is a small story about a student. Enjoy:

The following is a question on a physics exam at the University of Copenhagen:

"Describe how to determine the height of a skyscraper with a barometer."

One student replied: "You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the barometer, and then lower the barometer from the roof of the skyscraper to the ground. The length of the string plus the length of the barometer will equal the height of the building."

This highly original answer so incensed the examiner that he failed the student who immediately appealed on the grounds that his answer was indisputably correct. The university appointed an independent arbiter to decide the case. The arbiter ruled that the answer was indeed correct, but did not display any noticeable knowledge of physics. It was decided to call the student in and allow him six minutes in which to provide a verbal answer which showed at least a minimal familiarity with the basic principles of physics. For five minutes the student sat in silence, forehead creased in thought. The arbiter reminded him that time was running out, to which the student replied that he had several extremely relevant answers, but couldn't make up his mind which to use.

On being advised to hurry up the student replied: "First, you could take the barometer up to the roof of the skyscraper, drop it over the edge, and measure the time it takes to reach the ground. The height of the building can then be worked out from this formula I have worked out for you on my text paper here."

Then the student added, "But, Sir, I wouldn't recommend it. Bad luck on the barometer."

"Another alternative", offered the student, "is this: If the sun is shining you could measure the height of the barometer, then set it on end and measure the length of its shadow. Then you measure the length of the skyscraper's shadow, and thereafter it is a simple matter of proportional geometry to work out the height of the skyscraper. On the paper is the formula for that as well."

"But, Sir, if you wanted to be highly scientific about it, you could tie a short piece of string to the barometer and swing it like a pendulum, first at ground level and then on the roof of the skyscraper. The height is worked out by the difference in a gravitational formula, which I have determined here this time on a long sheet of paper with a very long and complicated calculation."

"Or, Sir, here's another way, and not a bad one at all. If the skyscraper has an outside emergency staircase, it would be easier to walk up it and mark off the height of the skyscraper in barometer lengths, then add them up. But if you merely wanted to be very boring and very orthodox about the answer you seem to seek, of course, you could use the barometer to measure the air pressure on the roof, and on the ground, and then convert the difference in millibars into feet to give the height of the building."

"But since we are constantly being exhorted to exercise independence of mind and apply scientific methods, undoubtedly the best way would be to knock on the janitor's door and say to him 'If you would like a nice new barometer, I will give you this one if you tell me the height of this skyscraper'.

Niels Bohr

The student was Niels Bohr, the only Dane ever to win the Nobel Prize in physics.

A new author, a new poem.

This is someone else writing this post. Or so it seems. Once again this blog brings you a poem (song). Let me give you a little insight of this blog first. Bear with me, it won't take long.

Let me tell you the truth. This blog has no purpose. In fact, it was made by two very bored individuals on this very day. As for the name: it just brings out our utter lack of creativity at choosing a name for the blog.

What can you expect from this blog? Bits and pieces of our lives, showcasing of our creative skills (as the last post confirmed), photography maybe, and in general, whatever we feel like!

Oh well. You must be bored from that by now. So I won't waste anymore time. Here comes the much-hyped (as if) poem:

The Desperate Lover

Out of my dream,

An angel you seem.

The face he'd never forget.

The beating heart so excited.

The joy in eyes like puddles gleam

By the silver of the moonbeam.

The walks and your tantrums so foolish,

The smell does cherish.

The never ending advice.

The always speaking eyes.

Every drop of rain.

From your memories I can't refrain.

The sound of the pour.

The love of my heart from core.

The words that didn't need

Any lip to red bleed.

Yes, into pieces you did shatter,

The little soul of the desperate lover.

There you go. I guess we both suck at writing. But anyways; fare thee well!