My Card House

A few years ago,
I wanted to make,
A lofty card house,
Which would never break.

I placed one card,
On the marble floor,
After a while,
I placed one more.

That was how,
I built the house,
It took patience and care,
And years of love

With every passing year,
The house became bigger.
Pillars rose high,
The walls grew thicker.

Until one day,
I stopped to see,
This card house of mine,
The best there could be.

At the base stood,
Cards of ones, twos and threes.
And at the top of the house,
Lay the kings and queens.

Like a plastic pyramid,
It was almost perfect,
Every card was perfect,
Except my favourite quartet.

The King of Diamonds,
And the King of Spades,
At the top of the house,
Both of them were placed.

Above them stood,
Just two more cards.
The Queen of Clubs,
And the Queen of Hearts.

I knew I had to,
Sooner than later,
Choose just one card,
To place above all other.

So I picked the Queen of Clubs,
Not to throw her.
She was still my Queen,
Alongside my Kings she'd stay.

What happened next,
I really dont know.
She fell from my fingers,
But never hit the floor.

The Queen was scorned,
In her fury she cried.
To stop her from falling,
I desperately tried.

But the damage was done,
She crashed onto the house.
I watched in horror,
As my cards were tossed.

Seven years of hardwork,
Were lost before my eyes.
And there was nothing I could do,
To salvage my pride...

The cards were strewn,
All across the floor.
Would they come back to me now,
Could I build my house once more?

No, most of them said,
Never, never again,
Upon your trust,
Shall we depend.

A few years ago,
I wanted to make,
A lofty card house,
Which would never, never....break.

(This poem is open to interpretation. If needed, I'll reveal the meaning of the poem within a few days. However, it's best if you could tell me your idea of the poem. And yes, please do leave your comments. Rate the poem as well. Thanks!)

If you are a new reader to this blog, check the Top Rated Posts, as well as the Best Posts of 2008.

Subscribe to Laptop Diary by Email

If you haven't visited here for quite some time, take a look at the latest posts...

"Bubbles, Bubbles!"

Swimming, they say, is an excellent exercise. And since it was Summer in Qatar, what better thing to do than take a dip, right? That's what even I thought. So I headed off to the local swimming pool, mentally prepared to shed some excess weight.

But just after I jumped into the pool, a thought crossed my mind. I didnt have goggles. And the water was filled with chlorine. Unless I wanted to be half blind at school tomorrow, I would need goggles. So I went up to the Lifeguard (well, actually paddled, since I was in the water), and asked for goggles.

"Ah, sure!" he said with a smile. A moment later, he came out of his little room, and threw a pair of goggles towards me. I took the pair, and looked at the strap. It could fit around my arm. And I dont have Rafael Nadal style arms. I meant a pair of goggles for someone my age, not an infant. (I didnt say that though, which is why it's in italics.)

Not wanting to disappoint the guy's enthusiasm, I wore the goggles. Have you ever seen a race horse? Well, I was like a race horse on drugs, with dysfunctional eye sockets, and a general lack of idea as to where to go...

Still, I swallowed all the pain, along with some water, and began swimming. Ten minutes later, I barely completed a lap, and was panting on the sidelines, when the Life guard came towards me. "Bubbles, bubbles!" he said.

"Huh, yah, I know..." Bubbles?

"No, bubbles, bubbles," he said, and enacted how I should put my head under water. Oh, so that's what he meant. For his satisfaction, I put my head underwater, and blew a few bubbles. Poor chap, must be dead bored around here...

When I got up again, he was looking at me, smiling contently. "Yes, do that. Bubbles are like...oxygen. Good to get oxygen." And before I could object, he pressed his hand on my head. In surprise, I blew a bubbles, and got up again. "Wait, that's not possible -". He had again pressed his hand down. It was like drowning, except I had a really surprised look on my face. By the time I came up again, I was pissed off.

Oy, I have lungs inside, not bloody gills, you get that? But since I had too much cholrinated water in my mouth, it didnt quite come out that way. I did what sounded more like a grunt. "Good, good, bubbles, bubbles," he said.

I got back to swimming. It was the worst I ever had. As soon as I finished one lap, I had to stop and dip my head underwater, blowing out bubbles. Not just once, about a hundred times. Alright, not that many times. Still, it was annoying...

So to change the topic, I tried asking the guy to teach me the breaststroke. It was supposed to be the best way to swim. Well, he told me to move my arms in a circular motion, push back my legs, and lift my head above water. I did most of that. Except for the pushing leg part and the head lifting. Which meant I looked like a motor pump with erratic power supply.

Tired, I changed and began swimming freestyle. "Coach, what's the best swimming style for the chest?" I asked. "This, this!" he said, pointing at the way I swam. "Oh, okay. And for the stomach?". He again said, "This, this!".

That's weird...

"Hmm...and what about for my back?". I shoudlnt have been surprised when he pointed at me and said (behold!), "This, this!"

Oh yah, wiseguy? Well, then what's the best swimming style for the ear muscles, huh?

I wish I had asked that. But before I could, he said, "Bubbles, bubbles!"

Sigh...

As I came out of the water after blowing a dozen bubbles, he smiled and said: "Good, good, bubbles are good. They give oxygen...Bubbles, bubbles!"

I dipped my head again, thinking to myself: Either the guy was crazy. Or my Science teacher was duping me...

P.S.: Please use the stars you see below, to rate this post. That way, it'll be easier to know how many people have read it. And yes, this was a filler post. Sorry!
Subscribe to Laptop Diary by Email

The Story of Rajeev and Faisal

It was that time of the year when every school in the city was busy hosting farewell parties for its outgoing batch. Our school was no different. In fact, the hype surrounding the farewell party was immense. It was all because of the Student Awards.

The Student Awards were a set of Awards given by the management of the school, as a token of appreciation to certain students. There was the "Best Outgoing Student Award", "Most Popular Student" award, and so on. But the most loved award, was the "Best Duo Award". And this year, the winners were a sure fire bet. Rajeev and Faisal.

Rajeev and Faisal were the epitome of best friends. It wasnt surprising, considering their backgrounds. Since 9th Grade, the two of them had trusted each other deeply. And they were surprisingly popular.

Rajeev was the cuter, more stylish of the two. He was an amazing dancer, friendly, excellent in academics as well as sports. Faisal on the other hand, was the more creative one. Not as good looking, but certainly loveable. He shone in oratory and writing. Together, the two formed a formidable pair.

They were the ones who knew everyone. They were everyone's friend. They dealt with others problems, offered help, hung out. If there was a party, it was only a party if these two were there.

And so, when the Vice Principal took to the stage, everyone was waiting to hear what they knew was obvious. "The winner of this year's Best Duo Award is...Rajeev and Faisal!"

There was loud cheering and wild applause. It was predictable, but that didnt stop it from being good news. From the audience, the two of them rose and reached the stage. When the applause died down, Faisal leaned forward and said something to the Vice Principal. He and Rajeev then turned around to face the audience.

"Dear parents, teachers and our good friends, this award cannot be accepted by Rajeev and I. For the simple reason being, the two of us are not friends anymore."

There was sudden silence, broken quickly by someone who yelled, "Ya right dude, we believe you!" The audience laughed. Surely it was a joke. But Faisal continued.

"It's true. And you maybe wondering why we decided to declare it now. Well, it's because this award really goes to someone else. It goes to Vasanth and Riyaz."

Vasanth and Riyaz. Hardly a handful in the audience recognised the names. Vasanth and Riyaz were relatively low on the Popularity meter. In fact, hardly anyone in the school knew about them.

"Of course, the question can be asked, why? Why should Vasanth and Riyaz be declared the best duo? Well, because they have something the two of us never did.

Rajeev and I have known each other for the past four years. And in these four years, never once have I had a complaint about him. Vice versa as well, you could say. After all, why would we? We were the two best guys in our batch. We were the perfect companions. And there lay our problem. Perfection.

It's a misguiding word. Perfection. Most of us choose our friends, depending upon how perfect they are. We like those people who are nearly flawless in their behaviour, in the way they treat us. But does that last?

There's a quote from a movie called Good Will Hunting, where Robin Williams character tells Matt Damon(regarding him and his girl friend): "Let me tell you something sport. You're not perfect. And let me save you the suspense. This girl you love, well, she's not perfect either. The question is....are you two perfect for each other?"

Two weeks back, Rajeev and I had a misunderstanding. A huge one. Caused due to a fault of mine. As a result, we could no longer remain good friends. And it was only then, that I realised the value of friendship. I learnt it from Vasanth and Riyaz.

For those of you who dont know them, Vasanth and Riyaz aren't the most fun loving people you'll find. In fact, to be really blunt, one of them has a nagging tendency to be talkative, while the other sulks a bit too much. They could find a hundred faults with each other. Yet, this is the point that amazed me. For the past three years, they've remained great friends. Sure, they've fought and swore at each other. They even vowed to never talk to each other again. But at the end of the day, they've accepted each other for who they really are.

Within a few weeks, all of us are going to part. And we may never meet again, despite exchanging email ids and mobile numbers. Well, in that case, here's what I would like to say:

Love your friends, for who they are. For the good, as well as the bad in them. No one's perfect. There's always, always someone better than the person your friends with. Anyone can pick the perfect guy to be a friend. But only a true friend can accept you, for your imperfections. Forgive, forget. Life is too short to waste upon misunderstandings. This, I've learnt, the hard way..."

With that, Faisal walked off the stage. The dumbstruck silence was pierced by a clap. Followed by another. Soon, the hall was filled with the sound of applause...

[Please leave your comments, discussing the topic...]

If you are a new reader to this blog, check the Top Rated Posts, as well as the Best Posts of 2008.

Subscribe to Laptop Diary by Email

If you haven't visited here for quite some time, take a look at the latest posts...

Thank You, Sorry And Welcome Back

I''ve tried to get a good introduction to this post, but nothing's worked. So I'll get straight to the point.

More than a month ago, on 15th April 2009, I decided to write the last post of Laptop Diary. My intention was to close down the blog once and for all. Why?

That's the tough part. There were many reasons, the biggest of which was my studies. I wasnt excatly coming out with flying colors, and I thought perhaps shutting down the blog would help. Wait, that sounds lame.

Well, the second reason was that I couldnt actually think of anything good to put on the blog. The more careful readers would've noticed how the past few posts of mine didnt quite have the punch. Heck, it basically didnt have anything. And any blogger will tell you how demoralising it is to know that you're on a continuous streak of poor posts. I knew some readers liked the blog for the earlier posts. So why ruin their interest eventually. Might as well quit while I'm still appreciated.

So, with all these thoughts in my mind, I wrote "One Last Story". And almost immediately after I published the post, I regretted my decision.

The comments I receieved, to put it mildly, were heart warming. I had expected people to comment. But not in such a manner. And strangely, I felt like a spoilt child. The kind that throws a huge tantrum about nothing at all. That's when I realised my huge mistake.

As my friend Shahbaz said, I've developed a bond with Laptop Diary. And more importantly with you guys. Without dipping into sentimentality, let me say, I decided to restart blogging. But I needed time for two reasons. One, I still had to pull up my grades. And second, I needed some new material to write about.

Also, the unflattering comment by Anonymous, who accused me of carriying out a publicity stunt, pissed me off. I hope that person is reading this : I really didnt mean any publicity, and I apologize if it seemed that way.

So what now? Well, I've decided to say Thank You. Thank You - to all my friends who tried telling me not to stop blogging. To my fellow bloggers, who tried their best to encourage me to go on. I started this blog in August last year for myself. I'm restarting it for you guys. Only a really thankless jerk would stop blogging after reading your comments. A huge thank you.

I also want to say Sorry. Sorry if I seemed a little too stupid, a little too foolish, a little too hasty. I didnt mean it in any way.

And finally, Welcome Back. Laptop Diary will be regularly updated, and hopefully, you guys will keep up with your comments.

It's time to make up for 40 days of not blogging.

Goodbye LG

Dear LG,

They say all good things must come to an end. I guess that's true in our case as well. I know you're still upset by my father's decision. But I guess it's all for the best.

I thought I should write this last letter to you, before we finally part. I hope you'll be a little bit more happy after reading this.

LG, remember the first time I saw you? It was almost four years back. I'll never forget how the salesman kept insisting on me buying the latest model of HP. He told me about all the features it had, and how it was the best laptop in the market. But I couldnt take my eyes off your Black and Silver sleek design. That's why I bought you. That, and also because my dad had a tight budget.

LG, I must say, you've been a great laptop. Sure, you're hard drive crashes almost every week, and you wouldnt be able to scan for viruses even if they were renamed as 'Virus'. You've forgotten how to copy CDs, and you've got a horrible habit of procrastinating. Besides, you cant remember what to paste where...(sigh)

But, there used to be good times too. Remember those late nights, when you stayed up with me, just so that I could finish the first posts of Laptop Diary? Of course, that was before you're F's and T's stopped working...

I guess I should apologize now. I'm sorry for all times I seemed rude to you, and seriously, I never meant to swear at you, but come on, crashing 3 times in an hour? That was a bit irritating. But perhaps I did hurt your feelings sometimes. One advice though. Next time you get pissed off with the owner, dont throw a tantrum and stop responding all the time. The keys Ctrl, Alt and Delete dont work anymore, you know that right?

LG, I just wanted to let you know, you're a great Laptop. Yes, I mean it. It doesnt matter how you look now, with a cracked monitor, faded keys, worn off stickers and so on. It doesnt even matter that you're slower than a Nintendo gaming console. I like you for who you are: The laptop who's battery life stays for a maximum of 10 minutes, has a memory of a jellyfish, and (perhaps worst of all) allows Viruses to play football on the Windows XP desktop Wallpaper.

Perhaps the most important thing I should thank you for, is Laptop Diary. The title of my newly reopened blog, was inspired from you. It was a title made in the spur of the moment, but the name's stuck. It's symbolic, isnt it, that you're leaving after I closed Laptop Diary. I guess it's the end of an era. The Laptop Diary 1.0 era. And on behalf of my readers, I should thank you. Dont expect them to thank you, they're got a problem with leaving comments on blogs. Still, you should know that Laptop Diary is going to carry on (as soon as I get a new Laptop), and I hope you'll be able to read it once in a while. Drop a comment if you can...

It's time for you to leave now. You'll be packed off and sent to India soon. I hope you like it there. You should, you're monitor was made in Jaipur I suppose... I cant promise I'll keep in touch, but I'm sure you'll move on in life.

Goodbye LG. I'll miss you. And you should know, I'll never forget you. It's quite hard to, after all that you've done. And yes, I dont have any regrets about you. Except perhaps one. I should have listened to the salesman...

With Love,
Your Owner,
Mohammed Musthafa.

(This is a Laptop Diary Entry. I had written two entries earlier, and hopefully, I'll be continuing these posts, every once in a while. Hope you liked it. Let me know. By the way, even if you dont comment, please rate the post (notice the stars below?). And yes, I'll be soon putting up a post titled : "Thank You, Sorry and Welcome Back". You can guess what that's going to be about...!)

Subscribe to Laptop Diary by Email

If you are a new reader to this blog, check the Top Rated Posts, as well as the Best Posts of 2008.

If you haven't visited here for quite some time, take a look at the latest posts...

Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.

One Last Story...

They say it's better to get out when you're at the top, then let yourself slide down. Well, if that was the case, I should have quit just after writing "Just A Bat And A Ball". But it's not too late. Officially, let me say. Laptop Diary is going to close down.

A few months ago, I would have picturised readers all over the world gasping at their computer screens, and feeling a sense of despair. That's the good thing about dreams. They never have to work out, do they? Most of you'll be glad. So am I.


So excatly do I mean by shutting down? Well, for starters, I dont think I'll be writing any more posts. I'm not sure about that. I may start again. That's why I've decided to keep the blog alive. You can always read my previous posts. But before I finally close everything, here's one last post. One last story...

"A Mark Sheet, A Cheque Book...and A Friend"

This is a story I heard from a cousin brother studiying in Bangalore. As a 12th grader, several years ago, my cousin, whose name for the time being will be Ahmed, got a new Physics teacher. Actually, Mr. Joseph was a temporary teacher, who was supposed to fill in for the first month of their 12th grade.

Joseph Sir was a peculiar man. For one thing, he never laid any emphasis on studies. Sure, he did appreciate the toppers, and urged the weaker students to perform well. But beyond that, he seemed to be aloof from studies.

One day, when there was just about 5 minutes left for the bell to ring, Joseph Sir stopped teaching. He looked at Ahmed, and asked abruptly. "What's the matter?"

"Huh? Nothing sir." Ahmed said.

Joseph Sir closed the cap of his marker pen, and threw it onto the table. He looked across the room, at where Santosh was sitting. "Santosh, werent you sitting next to Ahmed till yesterday?"

"Yes sir," a low voice replied.

"So why have you changed your place?"

There was silence for a minute. It was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Without saying a word, Joseph Sir walked out of class...

Next day, he walked in, and without opening his textbook like he always did, asked everyone to keep away
their study material.

"What's the best thing you could do?" He asked. "Tell me, what, as a student, is the best thing you could do?"

"Get good marks?" someone murmurmed.

"Excellent. Good marks in what?"

"Our 12th Boards?"

"Yes, go on. In what way?"

"By topping the school..?"

"More, think more..."

"By topping every subject. But setting new records. By getting full in as many subjects as possible?"

"Yes!" Joseph Sir cried, raising his hands with pride. He suddenly fell quiet again. "And what do you need for that?"

"Study hard?"

"Yes, study hard. Study day and night. Study so much, that you finally cram everything you'll ever need to reproduce onto 12 pages within 3 hours. That, will mark the greatest acheivement of your student life. Or will it?"

No one replied. They knew Joseph Sir had a point to make. "Guys," he said, "you should all know one thing. It's tough to excel in your exams. But with the right amount of tutions, studiying hours, lack of sleep and a bit of luck, you can crack even the toughest of exams. Atleast in the Indian system of education."

"If you wanted to be a rich guy, all you'd have to do, is get a great job, invest cautiously, and soon, you'll have the bank balance you always wanted."

"But here's the question: What will make you truly happy?"

"Is it a mark sheet, a cheque book...or a friend?"

"If I had money, I'd be in a Ferrari...." someone said. Everyone laughed a little. Joseph Sir smiled. "That's right. You'd be cruising in a Ferrari. Until you run out of money. What then? Isnt money momentary?"

"What about a mark sheet. What if you were the topper from IIT?"

"Brilliant. Then you'd get the best job possible. You'd be the rising star. Until someone else comes along, with better qualifications. Better brains, faster hands, smarter tongue. What then? You're no longer the topper from IIT. You're the second best guy at your job."

"What's your point, sir?" Ahmed asked.

"My point is this. We spend all our energies, trying to get as much money and fame and social status as we can. But what about real friendship? Do we really give it much importance?"

"There's nothing such as real friendship!" Santosh said spitefully.

"My dear child, just because you havent found it yet, doesnt mean it doesnt exist. You all know the saying, "Man is a social being". What does that mean? It means we're beings who have feelings, and emotions. We love and want to be loved. Our sense of belongingness is strong."

"What it means, is that at the end of the day, after you've driven your Ferrari, and worked in IBM, you - all of you - want to come back home, and talk to a friend. Sounds absurd doesnt it? But is it?"

"I'll be leaving within the next two weeks.You'll have a new, and better Physics teacher. But before I go, let me tell you this. It's easy to top an exam. It's even easier to earn money. The toughest thing to do, is to build strong friendships. Not friendships where you discuss about movies and girls. Not friendships that stop the moment your friend cant help you out in Maths. I'm talking about the real friendships. Where you'll always have someone to help you. Someone to talk to. Someone to help you when you're down."

"If you get such friends, if you can build such bonds, you've done what most people in the world have failed to do. That, my dear students, is the true success in life. Thank you, class is dismissed early today. And Ahmed, I hope you've understood what I said..."

Ahmed nodded his head, and looked at Santosh....

This is a semi - fictional story, and only the message remains true. It's purely my view of thinking. You are free to debate, criticise, support or even ridicule.

All of you've been wonderful readers of this blog. When I started out, I never thought Laptop Diary would become a regular, comment filled blog. I dont say its an amazingly popular blog. But it's exceeded my expectations. 

For those of you, who havent commented on any post yet, there's a way : Just give a one word comment, as in 'Good', 'Bad', 'Horrible', 'Awesome' and so on. And then, rate the post out of 5. 1 for bad. 2 for average. 3 for good. 4 for excellent. 5 for outstanding. You can even give 1.5 or 2.5 and so on. But please do evalute and comment. 

Also, for my loyal readers, who've regularly commented, I would like it if you could give a review/testimonial for Laptop Diary. Maybe it's too much to ask for. Still, I hope you can...

Those who've subscribed, you'll know if I ever restart this blog. For the rest of you guys, as I said, please subscribe.

Until the time comes......Goodbye!

If you are a new reader to this blog, check the Top Rated Posts, as well as the Best Posts of 2008.


If you haven't visited here for quite some time, take a look at the latest posts...


Subscribe to Laptop Diary by Email

Why I Began Eating My Tiffin...

I know it's an unusual title. But then again, this is an unusual post.

I have a really annoying habit. Just like most of you. Many a times I forget to eat my tiffin. The reasons are always good enough. I had Prefect Duty during the breaks. I was completing my homework. Sometimes, it's actually true. The canteen just has better food to choose from.

The only one who's annoyed by all this, is my Mother of course. After all, who would take it kindly, if the food they prepared at the break of dawn, is returned half a day later, uneaten and wasted.

It's not as though I didn't care about it. I guess I just didn't care enough to actually do something about it. Until one evening, my mother snapped.

I was doing my homework, when my mother asked me whether I'd eaten what she prepared for me. "Uh, no."

Things had gotten that simplified. Just "Uh, No."

"You dont care about all the food you waste, do you?" My mother asked. It was always the same script. "One day, you'll have to face God, and be accountable for all your actions. Do you know how many people are dying because of hunger...?" I listened, like I always did.

Just then, my father tossed a newspaper page onto the table. "Take a look," he said curtly. There was an article, about a boy in India, who died after falling from a tree.

Sad, I thought.

Then I read the whole article, which was unfortunately in Malayalam, and hence took a little time. It seems the boy had climbed the tree, to get a fruit from the top. My mother shook her head when she heard me reading in my broken Malayalam.

"No! The boy was starving for food. Desperately, he decided to climb the tree and get some fruits to eat. A passerby who saw this impoverished boy, took pity on him. He decided to feed the boy, and asked the chap to get down from the tree. The boy, so overjoyed at the fact of getting one square meal, hastily tried to climb down the tree. That's when it happened. He lost his grip, and fell. His limp, malnourished body couldnt take the fall. He died.

I heard the story, and looked at my mother's face. I thought it was a joke. It had to be. After all, it sounded incredulous.

"Do you know what the mother was crying about?" She asked. "She was crying at her son's funeral, wailing about how the poor boy had to die without ever eating one proper square meal. 'Oh, why did he have such a horrible fate!' the mother wailed."

There was an uncomfortable silence after my mother finished narrating the story. I finished my homework. We had our dinner. I checked my MSN, Facebook and blog. We all went to sleep.

The next day, as my friends called me to hurry up on the way to the canteen, I stopped to take out my Tiffin box. "What happened, didnt bring any money today? I'll pay for you," one of them said.

I shook my head silently but did not reply. After all, he did not know why I had began eating my Tiffin....

If you are a new reader to this blog, check the Top Rated Posts, as well as the Best Posts of 2008.


If you haven't visited here for quite some time, take a look at the latest posts...


Please subscribe to the blog, so that you get the latest updates in your inbox. Besides, leave a comment, or if you are a blogger yourself, follow this blog.