Attention Span Of A Peanut.

The book is out in front of me, my precious highlighted notes stare at me.

I take a deep breath, in fact I do some yoga, just so that I'm ready. 

I look at all my supplies, do I have what ever I need to do this? Oh no, I don't have my lucky exam board, let me just grab it. 

Now that I have that, am I ready? Wait, I need water, just to be sure that I don't die of dehydration.

*wheeew* That was close, okay, now I am mentally prepared.

But no, I need to take a leak, all that water that I drank!

Finally, I can sit down to study, no more messing around.

Let me just check Facebook, WhatsApp and Instagram for the last time, just so that I know there's no nuclear holocaust coming my way. Now that I have my phone, might as well check Tumblr, Twitter, all sorts of things I don't even care about.

Gee! Look at the time, it's an hour since I took my phone already! Okay, phone away. 

Unleash the laptop, I think I have had enough of history already, I'll do some sample papers online. 

Google Chrome is already open, along with mycbseguide.com, I guess a Facebook tab wouldn't hurt. 

Oh no! An hour again? Let me just close that tab and put my phone away, serious study it is!

Damn, I can't figure out this sum, let me just look it up online while I slyly open my YouTube account too. The solution on the internet is too complicated, let me ask my friend on WhatsApp.

(Fifteen minutes later) Okay, serious study now. Let me just switch on the music on my phone.

Yay! I almost figured this su- the song's boring now, just a quick switch of tracks. Well waddaya know, I have to reply to these Snapchats and WhatsApps. 

(Half an hour later)

Oh no, the books are waiting for me. Let's conquer this! Do not get tempted by the constant blinking of the green light on your phone, even though it means you have notifications. I'll do this paper and then-- ah what the hell, after this sum I will check.

(Half an hour later)

Okay, let's do this paper. It's this late already? Oh well, better luck tomorrow. 

Well, I'd be damned.

A Great Brick Wall

When your words are stuck,
Poetic sense is out of luck,
When you can't express what you feel,
Lo behold, here is your Achilles' heel.

That's writer's block,
That writer's flow, is stopped by a rock,
The disability takes you by shock,
That's writer's block.

When your words fail to satisfy,
And your vocabulary can't imply,
You know your struggling to break that ice,
But now, simple struggle won't suffice.

That's writer's block,
Your creativity is in under key and lock,
Your imagination has been held on a dock,
That's writer's block.

Bottled up feelings, corked up tight,
Your demons for freedom, they fight,
You can't bring out what you want to say,
To express your self, you need some way,
But your words have run away!

That's writer's block,
Your words please you no more,
And that hurts to the very core. 

Traffic Signal Business

Everyone uses roads, don't they? Unless you're reading this in your limited edition Vertu smartphone, while you're boarding your chopper to Milan from your duplex yacht called Naomi. But I bet you would have seen those grey stretches that's been there connecting people, places and potholes. 

But I am talking about traffic signals and how eventful those few seconds are to the vendors that stick their faces on your window screen expecting you to buy those sun shield things that tear on the second day. I am talking about those people, who can make a pretty decent living by doing something productive than bringing a small crying baby with rags on for extra pity money. And the lottery ticket sellers, if they are so sure that there's assured money for every ticket, why can't they just buy the whole lot and wait for the lucky draw day? And my personal favorite, the little kids who sell balloons, yes, obviously, many people would buy an extra flashy balloon to obstruct their view while driving to get to their destinations as soon as possible. 

I understand that I am not addressing to those people, but fellow observers, don't encourage these vendors. They do not realize the harm they are subjecting themselves to by demanding business from customers who won't even acknowledge their presence at their windows. They do not realise that they can get run over, the pollutants can make their own little city inside those lungs and those bad people who would do bad things to little girls or women that are trying to earn a living on such busy streets. The next time someone comes up to your window, smile at them, if they are asking for alms, give them food and then feel better about yourself and drive off to wherever you were going anyway.