The QuadCore Brain



ACT I : The Belligerent Sycophant 

I wish
I could carve out
A path
From my head to my heart
And rationalize every thought
And every chemical reaction
With a melting pot
Of facts, figures and emotions
I wish
I could dissolve
All my scruples and sorrows
With nary a care
About the tuples of tomorrow
Oh I wish many a wish
And dream many a dream
But right now all I can focus on
Is, my senses tingling
From the cool of the ice cream


ACT II : The Silent Activist 

I’m trying to improve my handwriting
Making it clearer
So that when I put down my thoughts
And ideas
And opinions
I can go back and recollect them
So that they leave in my memory
An indelibly clearer impression
They are an expression in time
Of Circumstances and the society
Of myself and those around me
And I wish to put them down
Elegantly and tidily
To preserve them for eternity
To remember, to recall, the actions
To study the reactions
And learn from the inactions
Most of all


– Akanksha Gupta

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You know they like to strengthen the base

Without building the basis

That even schools forget // To-Do

Which you only regret later in the year

 

So as time races past without a second glance,

The concepts crawl at a snail’s pace

And settle intact within the brain

 

But the overload makes them fall

And makes you wonder “when”

The textbooks developed gravity

Strong enough to call to your head

Repeatedly

The “why”, after all, is a foregone clause

 

And so, the murky black waters,

Flowing from your head, nod,

And with them

So do those auburn, brown and blonde

That may or may not be naturally-occurring

 

You ponder over this predictable sensation

Which initiates a fashion

Of incongruous oscillations

Until you nod off

 

And the world slips before your eyes

Into the cacophony that presides

Over a Grades-Giving day

 

Which bursts into a confetti of alphabet

Splattered with youthful abandon

Flicking at the heart piece lodged in your throat

 

But you swallow it back

And open your eyes, not to the sunrise,

But to a platter of incomprehensible formulae

And since this not a surprise,

 

You promptly roll your head off

The textbooks on the desk,

And shake off the remnants

Of a lousy nightmare

 

Throwing the desk-ware

Into the bag

You swing it around your shoulders

And walk to the next class

For time races past without a second glance

– Akanksha Gupta