Constructive Dementia!

Constructive Dementia

Growing up from toddlers to teens, we have heard and seen Heroes. Heroes embracing powers like inherited jewels; explaining us about responsibilities, choices we made and how to face the fear within. But how many of us actually come out of this Pandora of marvel studios oozing with morals ? I executive editor of Constructive Dementia, wrote this obituary of a man, common and pale, yet with implicit quasi of a legend unborn. A Hero who thought beyond morals. 

He was a man with normal ideas for most life time but in those little facets of imaginations where he expanded his hidden wings of self-discovery, he discovered something unusual in him. The word “Revenge” meant to him the motivation to live life. He said to me once, revenge in any form is good for us. Exuberant in his ways, he kept on explaining, the other side of revenge. He said revenge is a catalyst which makes you strong within, it keeps you going. According to him we take revenge because we want to prove our might to others and doing so we evolve. More than anything else we prove it to self. He also said revenge is not always negative as portrayed by most philosophers and historians around the world. Animals if cornered many times would not only resist even more, he would gain resistance against the action of being cornered. The process of resistance is a form of revenge which eventually brings in motivation of survival.

He died of a heart attack a day before, not because he was a drunkard or a fat chap but because he was in an endless pursuit to evolve as a mountaineer, he exhausted his body to new levels each time he climbed. Autopsy reports showed his body was evolved like animals and they never saw anything like that. The catharsis of his death although lied in his own childhood of a bullied kid and teenage of several broken relationships. He wanted to take revenge, a revenge to show world he reaches heights where no one else has reached. His revenge was not against the people who left him in tears and tatters; it was against his own psyche to evolve into a perfectionist. All I can say he may have died young, but he would definitely live in hearts of people like me who endorse constructive dementia. The little less talked soul within.

Perhaps! I say I am a Bad Writer

I am A bad Writer !

Self Praise kept me going so far 

I don't think, I ever raised the bar

Failed in all the attempts I made 

In all those clumsy, lousy words I said.

 Replications of a merely lost and confused brain

I interpreted everything wrong, be it love or rain. 

To be Just another blogger, was my fault 

Dream To be the ace, I could never open that vault.

Writing so far was nothing but a blunder 

Perhaps, I say I am a bad writer. 

My success stories were short and ethereal 

I wonder now, they were dream or for real

I wrote for my girlfriend and spilled my heart

She left me mid way and punctured it by dart.

I wrote another poem, to show my agony 

People said, I am an overdose and too phony.

Life kept me going, so did my female attractions

First in the row was a beauty queen

I wrote a love story, thinking it was never heard or seen

Frankly it was same old story on the screen.

I lost her too on the road to heaven,

I pitched another vodka shot, and lay raven 

A guy and a gal, can never be friends 

Over the years, all I can say this is the trend. 

Perhaps, to drive love, I am a hasty biker 

Or shall I say I am a bad writer. 

Leave the girls; I was never good with them

I tried my luck on other branches on the stem

Then came a phase, I splattered my words in all possible directions

Making a mockery of literature, I think I finally got some perfection

My array of work ranged from politics to sex

I formed my stories, like candles out of wax. 

A few of them went quite a mile 

I am glad they brought a few to smile.

My writings are driven by happenings around me

Intend to judge things different amidst what I see.

Soon to realize, it’s the most common psyche

Perhaps, to rule the sky was just a dream, 

Alas! I was called just another cynical flyer

Or shall I say I am a bad writer.

And now is the time, when the love is gone 

Gone with the wind, and I sung my fav song 

I lie in my bed, with a bottle of wine

With guilt of a writer who could never shine

They say to me, u tried too hard, with limited social art

My writings are the ones which never quit me 

Or perhaps time has come quit as a brave fighter 

Unlikely to quit ,Perhaps I say I am a bad writer.......

I Say I am a Bad Writer : S.D