Funthusia

When I was small,

I thought

I shall become a pilot..

But then I was informed…

That I couldn’t become one

Because I had spects…

I then thought,

I’ll become an insurance agent,

But the insurance company got destroyed in an earthquake

and it was not insured against it…

Then I became a teacher

With the hope

Of beating students

That didn’t happen

And the students beat me up…

Then, I decided

I’ll surely become an engineer

But that too was not to be…

I flunked mathematics…

So I joined

POLITICS

And that worked,

I bought votes

I won elections

And now,

I am relaxed..

If you liked the content of this post, you may want to tell others by using these buttons:

Powered by Bookmarkify™

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

I got nothing to write,
for this blog today, Churning out interesting posts,
is no child’s play.

But hey,
I am not a child,
but still rey…
I am really blank today.

But then I thought,
70% of the writers write about
“I have nothing to write about… so am writing about
that peculiar feeling…”

But That doesn’t hold true for me
Coz one…
Am not a writer,
Two…
I am frustrated and the feeling is not peculiar…

So what Am I doing..?
Writing about… “I got nothing to
write on…
but I hate writing on that topic…
So am just whiling away my time…”

But did i not just tell that I am not a writer…
Hehe… I am typer.

Phew…
If this poem…uh… piece of philosophical shit
made any sense to you…
then please let me know…
Coz you are the reincarnation of…
“Aristotle The Great..”
Or was that Socrates…??

If you liked the content of this post, you may want to tell others by using these buttons:

Powered by Bookmarkify™

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Ever since I was a kid,

I had a dream,

I really wanted to have long hair,

Very Very long hair.

I found it really cool,

But sadly it was…

Not allowed in my school.

Everytime my hair

touched my ears,

My teacher used to force me to cut it…

and even said that my hair was like a grizzly bear.

I tried to explain it to her that,

I don’t see a negative point in having big hair

Any interference by school

is so not fair.

It’s ironic actually,

that certain things we do

in the name of discipline

are so very contradictory…

We iron our shirts…to look good.

And we cut our hair…to (er…according to me) not look good.

India is a democracy,

And forcing any child to…

cut his hair is a blatant violation of that very Democracy…

There’s more I have to say,

But that’d be in my next post…

Anyways, concluding the poem

I’d say

This rule is a son of a nut…

What’s the friggin’ point in having a haircut.

If you liked the content of this post, you may want to tell others by using these buttons:

Powered by Bookmarkify™

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

One fine Day,

I made a Blog,

I did not want to make it on say,

A free host like Blogger or Wordpress…

So with the help of a friend,

I decided to buy a domain,

And some webspace to go with that.

Now I had a blog,

And I promoted it,

Mainly by commenting on other blogs,

Spamming Orkut, telling my friends, etcetera etcetera

After a few days,

When I felt my blog had some content

I asked a webmaster to link me up…

On his blogroll that is…

He asked me my page rank,

I was not sure about mine.

So I checked,

I checked mine and I checked the other webmaster’s…

I said, “Dude! I got a better PR than you…mine is 1 and yours is 6…”

I was chatting with him so he gave me an emoticon (smiley)…

The “Rolling on the floor laughing” emoticon,

I knew I had done something stupid.

I then understood the real meaning of PR,

It’s about backlinks to your site,

And the higher your PR,

The better your site

According to Google’s wonderful search engine…

I still hate the concept,

But I guess I have to live with it…

Sadly, The prime need for SEOing your site…

Is improving your pagerank…

My PR is still 1…

And I don’t know of a concrete plan of how to improve it…

If you can help by putting me in your blogroll,

Please do…

If you liked the content of this post, you may want to tell others by using these buttons:

Powered by Bookmarkify™

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Love Poems are the easiest to write,

The best thing about it is that it

Needn’t be black or white.

Not in colour but in character.

I’ll cry for you,

I’ll die for you,

But just when I was about to die,

I kinda had to go to the loo.

You know it’s mainly because

When you love,

You become obsessed with it.

The words just flow in

You don’t have to think.

But if you write in some other genre,

It gets a lot tougher,

Mainly because there is no greater inspiration

Than a woman you love.

[You know, I have not read enough Shakespeare to call that a muse.]

Now people (old poets) very oft,

Write about nature.

I don’t like ‘em

Coz if you just look at the interest factor,

Real life creatures are so much more greater.

I love the colour blue,

I love the colour red,

Without you I’d rather be dead.

Exaggerated it may sound if you haven’t been in love.

But if you have,

You would agree that if you can write on just one kind of genre,

It would be love.

Therefore, love poems are the easiest to write.

If you liked the content of this post, you may want to tell others by using these buttons:

Powered by Bookmarkify™

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

It’s late in the night,

And there’s a mouse to my right.

I am looking at the screen,

Surfing websites which are totally clean.

I am surfing through forums

And I am surfing through blogs,

Everyone else has slept

Except maybe the dogs.

In around two hours, it will be morning

That’s the time when my brother’s alarm would ring.

That would be also the time when I go to sleep,

Into my dreams which are nice, long and deep.

-Sameer Jha

If you liked the content of this post, you may want to tell others by using these buttons:

Powered by Bookmarkify™

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

I needed to cut my nails,

A nail cutter was what I was looking for.

The last time I bought one,

It had a brand name on it,

Something like “Adebayor“.

It worked really fine,
To know that, you didn’t have to be an Einstein.

Erm…I am still searching for it,
I don’t actually remember where I kept it.

I think I kept it under the bed where I guess my aunt slept.

So I guess she stole my nail-cutter.
You know what, I avenged

And I stole her husband’s imported butter.

-Sameer Jha

If you liked the content of this post, you may want to tell others by using these buttons:

Powered by Bookmarkify™

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!