tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26987904557146125452024-03-05T08:24:30.458-08:00Diary of DaysAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15461994827582878108noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-38403223707496360302017-12-01T09:54:00.003-08:002017-12-01T10:15:02.247-08:00On the Way, Way to Go..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjFGMkE2Uq1ICy6LqgYKNwGU9FEh-HUXiPogl4oNVfkgVKGjPUZKsKmK-wGLBI5IQ2rbMAWB96VDFegH7biVj5P2YhMxTnwFrKZNFjXAQsCFC0GPGkXK1kWuwtL1az4OV8RaQyMD00Lkrv/s1600/3084510_orig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="327" data-original-width="798" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjFGMkE2Uq1ICy6LqgYKNwGU9FEh-HUXiPogl4oNVfkgVKGjPUZKsKmK-wGLBI5IQ2rbMAWB96VDFegH7biVj5P2YhMxTnwFrKZNFjXAQsCFC0GPGkXK1kWuwtL1az4OV8RaQyMD00Lkrv/s400/3084510_orig.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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She gracefully stepped out of her chauffeur-driven Audi ,
and walked into her office- a part of her daily chores. Her Audi and her
princess-like lifestyle surrounded her with a balance of admirers and haters.
Her seemingly fairy tale life presented her to the world like a damsel picked
straight out of a Disney tale. </div>
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In her today-like-yesterday, tomorrow-like-today life, last
Sunday was a remarkable one. No, no, it wasn’t the Prince Charming. Gourmet
Lunch? Late Night Party? It wasn’t them either. Possibilities of a surprise mail, or a workplace success story
could also be ruled out. </div>
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The “remarkable” day was about her travel to a friend’s
place. Until now, Sri had barely seen life beyond home, Audi, school,
workplace, family, and occasionally, an airplane. What could have been a more wonderful
escape to a whole new world, than a journey on a local train, amongst thousands
and millions of those exposed to the phenomenon, called ‘life’!</div>
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Traditional local trains in Kolkata are characterized by
their green and yellow bodies, and an exclusively allotted foul-smelling bogie
for the vendors. Like all other trains, they have their five-digit number codes
and a defined schedule. However, they gain popularity in terms of their
destinations and the crowd they accommodate in their brief journeys-Bongaon,
Krishnanagar, and Bardhaman being the showstoppers in the local train world. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdl9kv_62PRwfQi75_Rsy2zVp_KLKEXMDfCs2SceUzC9ys_2qTY724gE0pEdx3foQ46F3PujmvjxrDEm66kosd3kynnmEJpoAe6Ya9qCOVbud293zCoG2vnaFa1mB7NBDdQDheuRCnSv8/s1600/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdl9kv_62PRwfQi75_Rsy2zVp_KLKEXMDfCs2SceUzC9ys_2qTY724gE0pEdx3foQ46F3PujmvjxrDEm66kosd3kynnmEJpoAe6Ya9qCOVbud293zCoG2vnaFa1mB7NBDdQDheuRCnSv8/s200/hqdefault.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
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The staircases to the platform were filthy, but that was a
matter of few seconds. The platform welcomed her with a series of composed
announcements about the train-to-platform mapping. Groups of people were
waiting everywhere to “invade” the passengers that would arrive on the trains
and get off at the platform. There were parents instructing their kids to hold
on.. ladies preparing to fight ladies at the ladies’ compartment; and then
there were groups of random young boys calculating the statistics and
probability of ease of boarding trains and getting off, with assumptions based
on history and geography. The universal strategy though, was very much like
that of getting into Plaform 9 ¾ -- walk straight through the crowd (with all
your strength, within a minute) and Sri would stick to it. It did take a little
bit of effort, but the crowd absorbed her into the train sooner than she
realized. </div>
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In the train, she managed to place herself in an area of 20
square centimeters. Unlike the seclusion in her usual modes of transport and
the places she travels to, the train was packed with people of varied shape and
taste, and voice and mannerisms, with more and more people trying to
accommodate themselves in every possible inch of space available. The sound of
the train and the crowd was music to the lonely soul.</div>
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Amidst all the madness, the hawkers stole the show. They
probably are the people who have mastered the art of salesmanship, unlike the
MBA degree holders getting harassed by the crooked corporate. The hawker’s
description of the taste and health benefits tempted Sri into buying a plate of spiced(dust was also
one of the spices), hygiene- proof guavas to feed her naïve soul and
soon-to-be-upset tummy. The list of qualities of digestive tablets, fried peanuts
and candies was fascinating. What a pity, our health sciences never taught us
what the hawkers teach us every day!</div>
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“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that every man in
possession of lustrous bald will be in want of a comb”.</div>
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The local train also seemed to be a place for buying other
non-food products at unusually attractive prices. You would get to buy a really
cheap fidget spinner, and you would get a pen and another pen, and a comb, and
also a screw driver free with it. And the way the hawker spins his story is
amazing, no Holmes can beat the sinister in what the next free product could
be, and how all the products are related!</div>
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Amused and liberated, Sri carefully noted down the
information about the various diseases and the doctors on the pamphlets pasted
on the train walls. Getting off at the station was effortless; someone pulled
her down to the platform. Some familiar face <span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-ZrQfldlc99n40PFTsyRgRLTmqzOOyqRYjmlCH6TXD6u_z-FHl15OLBEbwPCBKfqrfNt3-13zXeG_rTohhSgpwLg6bA9_IKoh_lmaT7V7kPI66JsahDHq7sZsCgU08USD3hM95ebWr25/s1600/Audrey-Hepburn-on-Vespa-Roman-Holiday-Copyright-Paramount-Pictures-1953-56a9c8d05f9b58b7d0fefc3e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="338" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-ZrQfldlc99n40PFTsyRgRLTmqzOOyqRYjmlCH6TXD6u_z-FHl15OLBEbwPCBKfqrfNt3-13zXeG_rTohhSgpwLg6bA9_IKoh_lmaT7V7kPI66JsahDHq7sZsCgU08USD3hM95ebWr25/s200/Audrey-Hepburn-on-Vespa-Roman-Holiday-Copyright-Paramount-Pictures-1953-56a9c8d05f9b58b7d0fefc3e.jpg" width="150" /></a>Today is just another work day. At lunch, Sri is patiently listening
to her colleague’s woes about his local train journey. Little did he know that
his struggles were, for a day, luxury, a Roman Holiday to the “Princess locked up in a castle”. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15461994827582878108noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-2906469332565157912017-11-23T00:54:00.003-08:002017-11-23T10:53:42.381-08:00Vermillion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5XrchChZOvg3NWwiCwP3GQaJ9NGHeCaT1u9YehekOnKXtlYmg1wzKWqP1X6po9zmKmPtX2dlwOGbaYJ9vFuMdsohIDA6Yl5DWgO8Kq7ZJvgGEb4tCAN5g6o6o8cebO0LlU_l3AQ-Ni9y/s1600/68b8f11296df745b3b434706fdd05346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="650" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5XrchChZOvg3NWwiCwP3GQaJ9NGHeCaT1u9YehekOnKXtlYmg1wzKWqP1X6po9zmKmPtX2dlwOGbaYJ9vFuMdsohIDA6Yl5DWgO8Kq7ZJvgGEb4tCAN5g6o6o8cebO0LlU_l3AQ-Ni9y/s320/68b8f11296df745b3b434706fdd05346.jpg" width="320" /></a>She sat there, by the river. The pleasant memories of her <i>Violet</i> Indian
Ringneck lingered through the years of student life. The little bird, her best
friend, would rejoice at the sound of her schoolbus as it stopped at the
doorstep to drop her home. The parakeet would watch her as she playfully tucked
at its toys through the gaps of its cage. The fun persisted as a part of their
daily routine, and the friendship remained a spectator to her journey from
little Neha Gupta to Mrs. Neha Sharma. Together they learnt about the struggles
of <i>Indigo</i> farmers of Champaran, and over the years, they
shared the displeasure in Monday morning <i>Blues</i>.<span style="color: #333333;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333;" />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #333333;" />
</span>A tiny droplet of tear
struggled it's way into her mildly smiling lips as the reminisced the amusement
in maintaining the same diet of salads and lettuce as her vegan pet in her
determination to shed calories. Their laughter echoed through the greener
days of their lives, until the day they left for their new homes- Neha for her
husband's realm, and the parakeet for it's heavenly abode. Perhaps, the sight
of Neha smeared in turmeric and draped in yellow was pleasing, the
separation that followed was menacing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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***************<o:p></o:p></div>
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The season of oranges had
come to an end. She barely heard him speak in a month; a rare disease had
robbed his brain of its capabilities, and the couple, of their marital bliss.
The winters faded, the blizzard of her life concluded, leaving her heart, and
his body cold and lifeless. Reality and stress would deprive her of springs for
the rest of her life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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***************<o:p></o:p></div>
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The flames had devoured his body in no time. The ashes were immersed. A tinge
of red remained on her forehead even as the society stripped her of
her identity. And there she sat, by the river, the memories of her pet, and her
husband seeking to paint her flawless white sari…<br />
She left late that evening, as life stirred in her womb. Dreams, after all are
forever as bright as Vermillion.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15461994827582878108noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-39605964232381588542016-05-16T01:12:00.001-07:002016-05-16T01:13:43.926-07:00One Day at a Time....<p dir="ltr">The moon widowed the <u>night</u></p>
<p dir="ltr">And Silence with all its might</p>
<p dir="ltr">Numbed life in its way..<br><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Shrivelled spirits,</p>
<p dir="ltr">And woeful plight..</p>
<p dir="ltr">Mayhem flickered</p>
<p dir="ltr">With hushed delight </p>
<p dir="ltr">And rendered dismay…<br><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">Solitude took over,</p>
<p dir="ltr">Scattered and sour,</p>
<p dir="ltr">The dreams walked away.<br><br></p>
<p dir="ltr">They waited the night,</p>
<p dir="ltr">And the morn,</p>
<p dir="ltr">And the nights to come,</p>
<p dir="ltr">They stitched their dreams,</p>
<p dir="ltr">And songs unsung..</p>
<p dir="ltr">Then, they called it a day.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15461994827582878108noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-47540860421568717512014-03-04T06:57:00.000-08:002014-03-04T06:57:34.616-08:00Resurrection<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbQS978JPGIEPFJJkNhAKCPFw-npU2JvoDeP8PT77Vu3xfS8co5do_fTrtY48k39pUHu8w4LNTvHSRSik2ICN_tACesaN5pta0_KF21jNPWTq5ns1D-ojwMHBCYEZCptQkmCm-yFbJ0AC/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbQS978JPGIEPFJJkNhAKCPFw-npU2JvoDeP8PT77Vu3xfS8co5do_fTrtY48k39pUHu8w4LNTvHSRSik2ICN_tACesaN5pta0_KF21jNPWTq5ns1D-ojwMHBCYEZCptQkmCm-yFbJ0AC/s1600/images.jpg" height="124" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Whilst silence sang its sultry ire,</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Winsome words of Sov'ran desires</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Whistled past the hardy hush</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">With its galling, gentle gush.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A painless pause raced through time</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Speaking apathy in mime.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Solace took over slumber,</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Breezing forth with springs of wonder..</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some flimsy, flashy, fluttering beams,</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Illuminated the flashy dreams..</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of timbrels of truth, of lutes of light..</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And the waves of stillness rose-</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To the immortal surf! To life!</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Reminisced, Resurrected.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-4649852857892969022013-05-29T22:00:00.000-07:002013-05-29T22:00:04.993-07:00Flashback<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1ABU2aHOHFlIGmKpkEDxV0h0pyolc_9v7b1ARvu_SNZCismHbrvl68gMKqxNnv684BYB3cfdWdkTlCKJEdBrnVgqh_HiXbGZTP0FRJrzhfzF33EoYgoD8WXJX-vQSzZyz35PrLPtn0-6/s1600/flashback.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1ABU2aHOHFlIGmKpkEDxV0h0pyolc_9v7b1ARvu_SNZCismHbrvl68gMKqxNnv684BYB3cfdWdkTlCKJEdBrnVgqh_HiXbGZTP0FRJrzhfzF33EoYgoD8WXJX-vQSzZyz35PrLPtn0-6/s400/flashback.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Glances
bartered along roadsides..</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="line-height: 115%;">Looking
back-a bleeding bonafide;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Rendezvous,
reasons,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Solitude,
seasons….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Enchanted
elegance..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Demeaning distance…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Trailing the
time that was gone…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">They glanced
back…. And walked on.<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-45237912651216991332013-05-28T10:53:00.001-07:002013-05-28T10:54:59.341-07:00Jet lag<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvtDtzPRhgoSe8MOid4JfndDrEffzgFLKP1xJspCwr1HFNy5kL_7AYLsMefu5wXAcjbkMWLg8jJrK7v-2pKjc4IrJ1Bw6L0leo1ywgelFJeMhII1B_6xt2T0ZJ5wWxpsJdH8i_pLrlN9N/s1600/distance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvtDtzPRhgoSe8MOid4JfndDrEffzgFLKP1xJspCwr1HFNy5kL_7AYLsMefu5wXAcjbkMWLg8jJrK7v-2pKjc4IrJ1Bw6L0leo1ywgelFJeMhII1B_6xt2T0ZJ5wWxpsJdH8i_pLrlN9N/s1600/distance.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">What could
be the best way to define the distance between spouses? The miles between the
two cities in two different countries they are living in? The hours between the
two time zones? The empty spaces between them? Or the silence.. the
inaccessibility?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"> Physics defines distance as length or space
between two points.. Graphically it is represented by subtracting the
coordinated of the two given points. Perhaps between people too, something gets
subtracted from each other. Something goes missing. Which takes us back to the
first set of questions! As to what the possible remainder is! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Graphically
distances between points are often measured by joining them by straight lines.
Connection. Strings. From heart to heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">Distance. A
wider angle of view. Brings to your notice what wasn’t accessible to you when
you stood right in front of your point of reference. In this case, your spouse.
From harsh realities to sweet truths, they get to explore each other. They say :</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><i>“One sees qualities at a distance
and defects at close range”</i>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"> There may be possibilities of a few bitter
discoveries. Nevertheless, the frog prince in the fairy tale </span><span style="line-height: 21px;">wouldn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> have been
as enchanting without vivid descriptions of the pond, the garden, the castle,
or the princess herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">A concept of
motion always goes hand in hand with distance. Moving a day away from the day
she last met him. Moving a day closer to the day he would see her again! A journey
to cover up for the miles, hours and void…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">The basic
aspects cannot be ruled out either. Missing each other… Anticipating.. Waiting…
And building bridges to find shortcuts to each other.. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">In my case:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;">The shortest
distance between us is under construction. Reconstruction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-28461956869772720672013-05-05T01:13:00.002-07:002013-05-05T07:23:36.189-07:00Dream life, Live dreams!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Dream. A subconscious state of mind. By definition it is an occurrence of involuntary succession of images and sensations when one is asleep. It is that part of your sleep that gives you a sense of being awake. Ordinary, surreal or bizarre, it makes people feel alive.<br />
<br />
Dreams don’t happen to us. We realize it. We realize what is it that we haven’t thought of. Rather, what our conscious self hasn’t thought of. Dream is like the “Mirror of Erised” as shown in the Harry Potter series.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>“Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi”</b></div>
<br />
Read backwards it means: I show not your face but your heart’s desire. A similar interpretation of dreams was put forward by Sigmund Freud in his word The Interpretation of Dreams. According to him, we have a tendency to hold back our urges and impulses. And these suppressed feeling find their ways out in different forms, one of which is dreams.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhey4-81eZSxaERKTsUpr0-8P3YSYh8gVRfpTWjBDzNutEXjk2HA3yil_048bbzqFgVPVlp_s7AlcBR3KWxJInWCrePYfnwSDbJvNr6lTBVGu_EA7QvH6yVEZGY7ci74YYhvFDHqFLqt-lc/s1600/dream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhey4-81eZSxaERKTsUpr0-8P3YSYh8gVRfpTWjBDzNutEXjk2HA3yil_048bbzqFgVPVlp_s7AlcBR3KWxJInWCrePYfnwSDbJvNr6lTBVGu_EA7QvH6yVEZGY7ci74YYhvFDHqFLqt-lc/s1600/dream.jpg" /></a>True, that it’s an illusion. But isn’t it beautiful?! To find yourself in Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, or in Willi Wonka’s chocolate factory with Charlie? It’s great to be wandering along with Alice in her wonderland! And it’s as wonderful to dance with your “dream” love. And as awesome to see yourself as Bill Gates’ boss! It could grow wilder than that! Well how about the question paper for tomorrow’s exam?<br />
<br />
Not that they don’t baffle us with what we call nightmares! Yet, dreams, lucid or vague, are beautiful. And waking up, even better. Their naïve reminiscence of the dreamer may animate or agitate him. Or give rise to a whole new creative process.<br />
<br />
We “create” dreams. And we can make them real with the same creativity. Not that we would always end up discovering the same species of the rare pink bird with crimson lips and blue-purple-green-yellow wings we dreamt of; we may, instead someday be a renowned artist for painting the same bird seated in its golden nest- paint our dreams!<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>“The years that are gone seem like dreams—if one might go on sleeping and dreaming—but to wake up and find—oh! well! Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life.”</i><br />
-Kate Chopin ( The Awakening)<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-19784625626358738842013-04-30T20:12:00.000-07:002013-04-30T22:27:13.565-07:00Wordygurdyboom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Prayers, players, peace in peaces…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Idols, Idyll, icy inveighs…..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Dusty dusk, dusky derm</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Airs, aces, accursed ages</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Robust royals, Raided roses..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Unlit umber Umpteen urges..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Opium ocean , Odious oases,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Souvenir solitude somber senses........</span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-71982655934623931692013-04-29T11:21:00.001-07:002013-04-29T11:21:29.645-07:00More than words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<b><i>“Another untimely death. A young guy died in road accident in office. Unbelievable”</i></b>- is the message I just read in my mail box. May his soul RIP.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGcqnpZWHGAjD5dvgVim7VQEFMp2EJJkSO7Jy-r3iq_u8BKyPQjcuWkR-a6nLvKC6k22Bur66iUGAweg2h8qi0SN57uh39jadsD898nOUvR0WKP-z0pNeAMcsp79_Du30W5dovQBLUKhXe/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGcqnpZWHGAjD5dvgVim7VQEFMp2EJJkSO7Jy-r3iq_u8BKyPQjcuWkR-a6nLvKC6k22Bur66iUGAweg2h8qi0SN57uh39jadsD898nOUvR0WKP-z0pNeAMcsp79_Du30W5dovQBLUKhXe/s1600/images.jpg" /></a>What a word! Death! Its all about Silence- defines the one who meets with the fate, defines the ones who face the news; eternal silence for the former.. and moments of silence in case of the latter...<br />
And I wish moving on was as simple as one deep breath..!<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>“Silence speaks over, saying all we need to say…..”</i><br />
<br />
Yes there’s more to silence. To start with, let’s talk about the abrupt eclipse of my pen (keyboard to be precise) from the blogosphere. Well, writing destiny kept me from writing blogs. And as always, it was just a pencil script, must be erased and rewritten. Needless to mention, destiny is a little less abstract than blogs while facing it, a little more abstract while writing it. It’s my transcendental consciousness, which writes both!<br />
<br />
<i>“You say it best when you say nothing at all…”</i><br />
<br />
Silence is the speech of love they say. This part is easier experienced than explained. The mystery of silence acts like a magnet, binds hearts together. Platonic or sensual, it speaks for itself.<br />
<br />
<i>“You do not know, silence like a cancer grows……”</i><br />
<br />
Distance. Empty spaces. Separation. Words need to fill the void. And there are none. That’s when silence screams. And however deafening it may be, unanswered questions and incomplete thoughts are all it leaves behind.<br />
<br />
<br />
Well, I’ll stop here for today. And my silence would be an invitation for words from you, my friend….<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>“Silence must be heard, noise should be observed,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The time has come to learn that silence…</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Silence must be heard”</i></div>
<br />
<br />
</div>
Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-63441673263997890922011-09-15T06:04:00.001-07:002011-09-15T06:17:32.140-07:00Sour Depths, Sweet Dreams!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcPHCxl1-X-h9iHrR4l53o4bLf2Rf4xb7N4rwWnWvrcgdz18J3JOzR4pKHSap4L8t93W-d_XXg7ObR4739U4Q0-6vJ3jSIaTcrpJLeynpu6OPubA32tSPXJXosVQ1bjnHRK6DM7gn_L7t/s1600/reaching-love.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcPHCxl1-X-h9iHrR4l53o4bLf2Rf4xb7N4rwWnWvrcgdz18J3JOzR4pKHSap4L8t93W-d_XXg7ObR4739U4Q0-6vJ3jSIaTcrpJLeynpu6OPubA32tSPXJXosVQ1bjnHRK6DM7gn_L7t/s320/reaching-love.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652574672609498898" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">Palaces of promises,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">In the midst of broken premises;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">Daydreams, dreamers, dreamy faces……<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">A snow, a flake, a vow-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">-Resting on the cupid’s crown;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">Untouched, unarmed;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">Of words of charm,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington">Sweetness bleeding, crimson pleading!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: Harrington"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-71182468255366949162011-06-13T10:42:00.000-07:002011-06-15T08:47:19.022-07:00On My Knees...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBna-ouqo3_BzJLLAJAgiIiRNPV0MnGlxKSOvhMeGbZ9SlYd0jj257xdnnttI44wmalfkROmwBjp4tRJik58v5xAhZraNWHKbZXaKh2CXVD25Zt0aQv374HGwUdYraeQnLSr6c9obRJcC/s1600/29755-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-White-Character-Kneeling-And-Offering-A-Single-Red-Rose-To-His-Girlfriend.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBna-ouqo3_BzJLLAJAgiIiRNPV0MnGlxKSOvhMeGbZ9SlYd0jj257xdnnttI44wmalfkROmwBjp4tRJik58v5xAhZraNWHKbZXaKh2CXVD25Zt0aQv374HGwUdYraeQnLSr6c9obRJcC/s320/29755-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-White-Character-Kneeling-And-Offering-A-Single-Red-Rose-To-His-Girlfriend.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618472613425856258" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> Hold back the heart-flying higher..</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Is this a dream, or a crimson satire?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Behold! The rendezvous of desire!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Jesus! Is my heart on fire?</div></div></div>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-37238483003907967812011-06-03T00:18:00.000-07:002011-06-03T03:54:57.253-07:00The Blank Page<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 36px;"><u><br /></u></span></span></p> <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJgfrbahejLQbv61CkMe0m21zj_wgbpa-ueLL5dAuSACy-KubjQl0Dewl1KQy_-JVRxIKpTIVedJACw7qUP5ndECDhgzCJWSu68CHAmF22Ajx4nKyThteFgq5QVrVfsBIQeRfo1ZtO4CHd/s320/Life%2527s+Pen.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613945100962722738" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic"">Another blank page, and here I am with a pen, looking for proper words to fill it up. I stare at </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Harlow Solid Italic'; font-size: 29px; line-height: 33px; ">the blank page for quite some time waiting for an essay to write itself… But it still lies ther</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Harlow Solid Italic'; font-size: 29px; line-height: 33px; ">e, silent in its emptiness, formidable in its vastness. The endless expanse of white space waits for that first mark of ink, the first brilliant word.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic"">The fate of the blank page is all about how words are arranged in it. And once you are done, you turn it around for another piece of white space. For such is life, I tell you, taking into account the way it proceeds. While in the process of writing destiny, an interval pops in every now and then. That’s when life turns its pages. And everytime there’s a new page, a new situation, you wonder, “what next?” … and you pen down the next chapter on that dreaded white space, waiting in the void.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic"">Well whatever.. I’m still waiting for the first word for my piece of white sheet….<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic"">Or… Did I just fill a blank page??<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:22.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Harlow Solid Italic""><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-36760568316169002952011-05-16T22:06:00.000-07:002011-05-16T22:08:17.521-07:00Ink Blot<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px; ">(This is a page from my diary... 17 May,2011,Time:3:30)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals"">Insomnia is something, a sleepless night is another. And giving up your sleep for a night, or occasionally is…. Well… just another thing too!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals"">The magnificence of a “quiet” night keeps you awake, pondering over its mysteries. However, a “not so quiet night” presents before your weary, dream-worn eyes a slideshow of illusions. Envy takes over the feeling of awe for those who are responsible for the loss of the usual composure of the night. The magnanimity of their noisy sleep compels you to first watch out for an extra pillow to shield your ears against the noise. If you fail to find one, the search for a more peaceful place is initiated. If there are ‘no results found’ yet again, you go to a neglected corner of your house, switch on a table lamp, and take up a pen and paper. and do what I’m doing now. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals"">And soon you find yourself staring at the window, clueless about how to proceed with your work. You watch the night dawn into a beautiful morning. The noise slowly fades away.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals"">A couple of hours, and you are woken up at that same corner …….. a few words on one half the other…………….. and an ink blot on the other!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals""><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-14413566681073652032011-05-15T09:04:00.000-07:002011-05-15T09:14:01.956-07:00A Midsummer Night's Dream<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6iIIyROBZkgyKijHWid2MPUswprhpjIJtB6lgChO5Hln0BorESRPpHF1o28w85u62E-cHeU12_2YzikoX4b5cLpSXYM4xcEiYrLH-yOHLjVkxGGw9UiPmPJGdju2BQs5IyTEeyFLigbin/s1600/3658998533_130d250b9e.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6iIIyROBZkgyKijHWid2MPUswprhpjIJtB6lgChO5Hln0BorESRPpHF1o28w85u62E-cHeU12_2YzikoX4b5cLpSXYM4xcEiYrLH-yOHLjVkxGGw9UiPmPJGdju2BQs5IyTEeyFLigbin/s320/3658998533_130d250b9e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606976710456915314" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">This solemn summer night<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Vows to the distant sight<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of dusky hopes, a drowsy delight,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of starry dreams, a maverick moonlight;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of breezy thoughts, some shadowed fright,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of the sleeping stillness, a restless plight..<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT""><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of the heated path, the steaming air,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of blistered feet, the soothing solitaire;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of sweating eyes and the tanned fair,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of dripping lips, the dark’s glare;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">Of the slumbered lamppost, of nervy nightnares……<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT""><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Allegro BT"">To the ageing novice, the waking dawn’s dare!!!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-39262971894288699322011-05-09T04:50:00.000-07:002011-05-09T05:04:05.112-07:00Power Cut...Let's come to the point,the person mentioned in the post, "Empowering Priorities" is no more. Well... yea, it was an accident. And it was sudden. And unexpected too! But most importantly it was destiny..the Almighty's way of making us feel the presence of the Superpowers; His way of proving the existence of powers more powerful than us. And a successful attempt of the Supremes to make us surrender. <div><br /></div><div>Dad, You've been,and will always be the most Powerful man I know. May you Rest in Peace.</div><div>Love you dad.!</div>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-25195206660413592432011-05-04T22:52:00.000-07:002011-05-04T22:58:53.888-07:00Dew Drop<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMCHNqR6F2lmrbgcHu3nU2XSp0YRRbT64JoV8qWUzPkEYm3eZb6T1KVBOIeEfXxIcCr5KAjQHFG9rJcYhdGhvgN3Zgt5Nk43KkdW5g2Gueym9vBnqhv5W3s6WGlDkCc_gYmP0AHsmBOao/s1600/dew-drop-on-leaf-1280x800.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMCHNqR6F2lmrbgcHu3nU2XSp0YRRbT64JoV8qWUzPkEYm3eZb6T1KVBOIeEfXxIcCr5KAjQHFG9rJcYhdGhvgN3Zgt5Nk43KkdW5g2Gueym9vBnqhv5W3s6WGlDkCc_gYmP0AHsmBOao/s320/dew-drop-on-leaf-1280x800.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603107467076287250" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" >A drop of dew slithering down,</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Past the leaf veins.....all alone;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Tracing its way to the edge..</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Wating to drop down to the wretch!!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Be the droplet a nascent rainlet?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Or the crown of the heir leaflet?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Ot the flowing tear of a broken fate?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Or just the traveller's charm bait?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Mysteries endless.....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Seekers clueless......</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >A dew drop helpless.....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Ah.. There it is-----Beauty Flawless!</span></div>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-59974996600137045162011-03-25T10:44:00.000-07:002011-03-25T12:39:26.982-07:00Emptiness<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uG8PxhoyFX9VbYgjsPoyKnfM3b86Jzl1ya_ggBCwVy0lqAcZ3EwXhjSinXks0P4aWPy5qO4srrg_UkgRE9W_uJtt2naBVVSSAtkcO5eTWz3nQ0xLYRtyXCZQlbJ-VLXU5GXJiah18IRL/s1600/girl_walking_in_the_hazy_light.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588094701238572370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uG8PxhoyFX9VbYgjsPoyKnfM3b86Jzl1ya_ggBCwVy0lqAcZ3EwXhjSinXks0P4aWPy5qO4srrg_UkgRE9W_uJtt2naBVVSSAtkcO5eTWz3nQ0xLYRtyXCZQlbJ-VLXU5GXJiah18IRL/s320/girl_walking_in_the_hazy_light.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center">A dreamy day,<br />A waning way,<br />A nasty night,<br />A sober sight...<br />A gleeful glare,<br />A fathom of fear..<br />Brewing blisters,<br />Yawning yesters,<br />Creamy colors,<br />Pleading pallor,<br />The misty marsh,<br />Hazy and harsh..<br />A lovely loner, with her lonely love!</div>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-89978663295974570842011-03-12T11:15:00.000-08:002011-03-13T09:20:43.390-07:00Eat.Pray.Live.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Dear followers and readers...</div><div><br /></div><div>Here I am, after having survived 2 long tragic days, breathing the air of the blogosphere.</div><div><a href="http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eqinthenews/2011/usc0001xgp/#summary">http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eqinthenews/2011/usc0001xgp/#summary</a></div><div> My condolences to all the victims of the Japan calamity, and their families..</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2mVYkNp0WmjMWpYVSZ8rQ2E287h6sSMi1L_AZCOxyuzptGXG_wGcfkbmHPt3YcEgaIenHV7X211QbUZi1wLa04i0gmDRnDoCCLmW2skkyktPq8G1f39i_x-1kyH3NJWHuPl1VHRvpdgAw/s320/images.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583600093271455858" /><div><br /></div><div>My condolences to my dearest friend, who lost his mother yesterday in an accident.. May the Almighty give them the strength to move on with these residents of heaven watching over them. </div><div><br /></div><div>And may the departed souls rest in peace.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the mean time, friends, give it a thought: Isn't the unpredictability of life brutal at times? Isn't the transience of our dearest possessions the reason for all our mental injuries? The answers being an unwanted "yes", its time we wake up from our ignorant slumbers. I'm aware, that in an attempt to free myself of the grief of the losses and the fear of the losses to come, I'm only reiterating the words of many other great people. But I'm sure expecting at least a few of you to start thinking in the way I'm doing now: I'm not referring to the grief, I'm talking about the endeavor to make the world a better place to live in. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The strategies&punchlines are all conventional...</div><div>*positive thinking</div><div>*life being short has little space for hatred or sorrow</div><div>*Self introspection</div><div>*think before you act....</div><div>*safety</div><div><br /></div><div>..... and so on and so forth...</div><div><br /></div><div>And I suppose every person is well aware of these little things........ </div><div><br /></div><div>The knowledge, however is not working anymore. It's time to act. That too, on an individual basis. Dear friends, let's do our bit, and make people do the same. Every little effort counts. We can't confront nature, but we can behave the way nature has made us. We keep forgetting that we are born as "human beings" and not "inhuman beings". Having done enough damage already, let's now behave like the goody goody kids... well.... that MIGHT soften Mother Nature.. you know!</div><div><br /></div><div>This will definitely not assure you of a disaster-proof life, but it sure will dilute the severity of the disasters.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's be the solution, not the problem!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-43036793049817659592011-03-09T21:59:00.002-08:002011-03-09T22:54:59.018-08:00Say,Love!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA-LeTKTFYxfq6BH9vqPSUl_VF_X8y_01m8MQks28eCMU4nXFSwB-b7pmnLAWFtJY3H8ohfTlO5cUtsU0bjg3mWmNIsHGGdHdYfs3lYIKSdqtA8YSd5JI9JnkwCqncRZ3NNDVgYctCrgA/s1600/zbyszek-woman-nature-sunset-sea-Love-flowers-man-amor-sensual-roses-candles-zbyszek-ti-amo-Paare-romantic-moje-zdjecia-Couples_large.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA-LeTKTFYxfq6BH9vqPSUl_VF_X8y_01m8MQks28eCMU4nXFSwB-b7pmnLAWFtJY3H8ohfTlO5cUtsU0bjg3mWmNIsHGGdHdYfs3lYIKSdqtA8YSd5JI9JnkwCqncRZ3NNDVgYctCrgA/s320/zbyszek-woman-nature-sunset-sea-Love-flowers-man-amor-sensual-roses-candles-zbyszek-ti-amo-Paare-romantic-moje-zdjecia-Couples_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582341079332146530" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Peace, the piece of my heart..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Pleasure, in thy love’s art...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Path that knows no thwart,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Plight, in the distance apart,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Pure since the day it starts......</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Ravenous is the lust</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Racing past the dust..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Real and robust.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">,Royal and just...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Reaching for the world so vast.....</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Imagination...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Intense passion....</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Impregnable , </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">immesnsely unforgettable..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Yearning for the love..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Young and fresh-</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Yelling to </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Yesterday’s dream......</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">A new day,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Adoring you in a new way</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Amid the golden rays...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Amorously today!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Nervous..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Nascent..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Naive... </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Noble.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Kisses temptation,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Kindles the passion..</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">Kneeling nights amaze your ignited rare pleasure!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-15493904918777399492011-03-07T23:08:00.000-08:002011-03-07T23:32:10.761-08:00On the sets!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLin2UnA1bbDWY90DvphBvIeGV_lFblyM6P1j5Z7p0Bew3spQn5Go8M5zttccLxuhVejvN1Q9J89X3Suqxa_HMVOjJGDXFkW8G0PuBf9kCIQoos61EygJTsS2Yv_2or-SZrKyLLdUxX6b/s1600/SST-auditorium-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLin2UnA1bbDWY90DvphBvIeGV_lFblyM6P1j5Z7p0Bew3spQn5Go8M5zttccLxuhVejvN1Q9J89X3Suqxa_HMVOjJGDXFkW8G0PuBf9kCIQoos61EygJTsS2Yv_2or-SZrKyLLdUxX6b/s320/SST-auditorium-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581608591559110466" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; ">Ever watched your phone buzz away, the caller being someone you desperately want to talk to at the moment? Try it, I assure, the pain doesn’t hurt that bad. It is just the conflict you have with yourself over the priority of the emotion that’s driving you crazy; you struggle to find out what’s nudging you the most-your wish to talk, your determination to defy your wish, your emptiness, or just the silly reason that’s keeping you from receiving the call! <o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; ">It’s indeed funny how we walk away from our titbit heartbeats(apart from anyone, they include anything dear to us), leaving behind a few footprints, a few memories, a few bruises, and a plethora of reasons to glance back occasionally. And walking along, we realize, it’s neither the departure, nor the emptiness or pleasure aftermath that matters-it’s just the “happens for good” part of it! And finally, the heartbeats settle in some page of a diary, and if lucky, of a history book.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; ">Why, you do smile with wet eyes when you discard your “favourite childhood skirt” someday; you’ve grown up, you won’t wear it anyway! Parents do send their kids away, and with time, the tears of separation fade away, the child’s success persists! We do leave our beloved behind! And we do move on after the separation! <o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; ">Certain incidents do ping our lives occasionally, catalyse our emotions tremendously, and then remain “a part of life”.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC'; "><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Cooper Std Black","serif"">Life, after all is a stage! It demands to get more and more dramatized! And you come out of the theatre saying, “Well, that was quite a play!” <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-72866301790248292472011-02-10T07:50:00.000-08:002011-02-10T08:23:27.938-08:00From Mist to Mist<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 27px;"><b><u><i><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGMTBS1zEf0YEbb4wg-aljMgrdRu4ei7HhPirAlnflQUFnf7oJVsOlj1kJTdG_d0HmAAbGd1JMaoHWcGOVfINaSylxESgirGcfXxp7CS_j-rzisDZhOS9q04phhZM6dX17S5n1jIc8YI2/s320/SkoolpiKniK+318_new%25281%2529.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572096619161937058" /></i></u></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The murmur of the misty morning-</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>-Meandering</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Through the Parting Pathway-</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>-Playing</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>With the Winter Wind,</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Welcoming</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>The Sweet Spring,</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Singing</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>To the teeming tiaras</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>The Hymn of Happiness...</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Then the Summer Sweat</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Sprouting</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>From the faraway farm</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Flying</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>To the autumn aura,</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Asking</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>The Travelling toe,</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>“May I Meet<span> </span>the mist again?”</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-11714859681875204352011-01-21T08:09:00.001-08:002011-01-21T08:12:15.726-08:00"Quiet" a Night<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt; text-align:center;line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><u><br /></u></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span style="font-size: 12.5pt; "><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px; ">Greetings, Bloggie and Bloggers!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-fareast-language:EN-IN" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size: 18pt; font-family: Chiller; " >Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.......................<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size: 12.5pt; font-family: Georgia, serif; " ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size: 12.5pt; font-family: Georgia, serif; " ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size: 12.5pt; font-family: Georgia, serif; " >Whoooosh!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size: 12.5pt; font-family: Georgia, serif; " ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; " >Owing to the stubborn circadian clock incorporated to my system, and the momentary exhaustion of my grey cells, here I am, swimming through the webzilla, trying to find my way to my own fantasies! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; ">At this time of the night, I peep out through my window to feel my senses freezing in the impregnable fog of the serene night. The dusky nuance creates within me an emptiness, an intense void; the silence robs me of my breath. Leaving aside a few sleepless households, most of the lights in the neighbourhood have<span> </span>been turned off(just a </span><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Informal Roman'; ">matter of fact</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; "> statement; the fog’s too opaque for one <span> </span>to see if any lights are on, or if any Prince Charming is waiting down some Rapunzel’s window). Occasionally, (though not offensively), one can <span> </span>hear an owl hooting to disturb the nocturnal lull.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; " >It’s the living room of the year; the hopes are still fresh, with a few memories of the yester year still alive. The changes, however, are quite prominent. The books lying on my study table are visibly thicker and more rugged than the last year’s. The previous January was wintry, this January is frosty. While last year I struggled to conclude whether a hearty laugh with my best friends is more important than cuddling my lover verbally, this year, it hardly matters any more.....<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; " >What surprises and appeals to me all the time is the peculiarity of life, the dynamicity of its sequences! Give this a try: collect a few random memories of recent past, and collage them into a story. It’s bound to be beautiful! Change the sequence and knit a new pattern, it tells a new story, a different one, a better one! Repeat the exercise, and you end up perceiving few of the best stories in the world. And in the process rediscover the beauty of the time you’ve lived so far, and learn to enjoy the unpredictability of the days yet to come......................................................................................................................................... I do it pretty often; I did it tonight as well. It didn’t work! The pieces of my newest jigsaw puzzle are so identical! There’s no clear picture! It’s all the same, no matter however you assemble it. Physics- textbook- mathematics-notebook- chemistry- guidebook- exams- marks- “Better luck next time”s------------<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; " >I tried and rearranged it, and here’s what it turned out to be---- Good luck-exam- oops-a little more perfection-physics-notebook-textbook.........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; " >The monotony compels me to drop this form of art for now. My blanket invites me to my bed; I still wish to delay my grand arrival. I wish to travel through the night; to experience the journey. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal"><b><span style="font-size: 28pt; font-family: Gabriola; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Because the morning would welcome me with a Physics paper!!!</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; line-height:normal;tab-stops:161.6pt"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black; mso-fareast-language:EN-IN"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-78106779418545000372010-12-09T10:47:00.000-08:002011-02-10T07:57:30.060-08:00Swastik...the Martyr for Nothing?!!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEKUFkSHBZNLar8UxtyVDI5HKa1ivCNbGh5SMdtMUJUNgYH-OJazsP_yb4GOd3zzyjGvrp6qntlNXpaQFgCObQY5z6dAmKrO1gFOjILN4KPWNv2PChPy_UdkEDmG-oeVRektbJXfhVdl1/s1600/26490_105855129439207_100000441615945_159359_3240999_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEKUFkSHBZNLar8UxtyVDI5HKa1ivCNbGh5SMdtMUJUNgYH-OJazsP_yb4GOd3zzyjGvrp6qntlNXpaQFgCObQY5z6dAmKrO1gFOjILN4KPWNv2PChPy_UdkEDmG-oeVRektbJXfhVdl1/s320/26490_105855129439207_100000441615945_159359_3240999_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549501602888585042" /></a><br /><h2 align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i><br /></i></span></h2> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"><i> </i></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>The reason for his act is, and will always remain a mystery. The guy was a good student, he was the head boy. Everything was fine. I was studying that morning. When I checked my phone that afternoon about 1 pm, I called him, he was unreachable. And then I got the next call at 1:30pm, from a classmate, he asked me to call everyone I knew and enquire if Swastik’s at their place. His dad had apparently called up a few of his friends and had already informed the police; that was when I came to know that he left home at 10 am, I didn’t pay much heed, because I knew he was playing a prank, was out at the game parlour, or for a movie, would come back before evening. His parents were informed after 3 pm, and I was told at 3:30 pm that he had jumped off a building and was hospitalised. I was relieved- he was found! I thought he had jumped off the 1<sup>st</sup> or 2<sup>nd</sup> floor and broken a few bones. I was at the Aakash institute, attending the special classes along with two more friends. Two of my other friends were at the hospital already. I texted one of them, enquiring about his condition. And his reply was, “ he is no more”. He was brought dead to the nursing home. And we left the class, we couldn’t carry on, the class would be disturbed. His parents apparently didn’t see his face. One guy did, I’d rather not tell you how he described it to me.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Now, coming back to the “why” of the story: the guy was, as I mentioned before, a know-it-all kind of a person, and was wise enough to know that suicide is a crime. I had noticed a changed behaviour past the month, but I thought it was normal, you know, we all had exams and we were all worried. The guy has always been an escapist. He had bunked many tests this year. Owing to his reputation as a good student, he was excused. He pretended to be ill, but he usually wasn’t. That is in fact, why I ignored when I was told he was missing. From his changed behaviour, I deciphered that he was up to something, and he would try to escape his pre-boards too. I didn’t have the slightest clue that he had planned for something so fatal. And yes, it was planned. He carried a bag to the mall, which contained a chemistry book[we had our chemistry Paper the next day, and he told his dad that he had lost his book, he sent his dad out to buy the book, took the chance,and left home] and his diary. And the diary had a neatly written plan of what he was to do. He had mentioned everything, starting from breaking the SIM card to.. well everything. He had also written his dad’s mobile number down on a piece of paper.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>From what I know of Swastik, he couldn’t have been prepared for his afterlife. He just wanted to escape his exams this year, and start afresh for exams 2012. And it all happened. Because the guy watched a lot of movies and hallucinated after every movie[he had been impersonating Harry Potter for a week after watching the movie]. The previous day[ he was with us then, chatting, laughing..] we were all discussing ‘3 Idiots’, and ‘Raju’s’ suicidal act in the movie. And I suppose, Swastik expected that to happen, he expected to survive. Or maybe he didn’t. I don’t know! No one does. Its not easy to accept his absence.. we are all breaking down again and again! And all hail the Principal, DPS Ruby Park, she feels what he did was ‘cowardly’ and he didn’t deserve a 2 minute silence. How could she use the word? Doesn’t she know, that killing oneself requires the strongest of nerves?! Of course he was selfish, unjustified, unreasonable, mean, foolish, but he was our friend too! He was loved! He was their student! He was the head boy. And he was just another human being like all of us, who deserves prayers for his departed soul, who needs empathy.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>As for the clichéd exam story, people have been against exams since ages, right? But nothing has changed! It’s not that easy to replace an age-old practice. And how can people think of avoiding competitions in the 21<sup>st</sup> century? This is the demand of the era, we cannot trespass it! It is the rule of nature. Blaming the system is not a solution to anything. One has to abide by it, or change it completely, what happens between avoiding and changing is irrelevant[as observed, people neither abide, nor change, they have been doing the intermediate things, hence saddening the situation]. We lost our friend, would that change the system? Or would he come back if it did?</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>They say that Swastik has scored more than 80% in the preboard Maths paper, and 9.5 out of 10 in the previous chemistry test[he had been constantly scoring low in maths and had bunked all previous chemistry tests]. Maybe the school is bluffing to avoid allegations of exam pressure, or maybe he really scored these marks. Who knows? For the mysteries have all been cremated along with his body.</i></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-71959060082690549642010-01-19T07:52:00.000-08:002010-01-19T07:53:30.049-08:00Let the bus arrive on time<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial">Love is just like someone waiting for a bus. When the bus comes, you look at it and you say to yourself "ooh...so full....no more available sit". "I'll wait for the next one". So you let the bus go and waited for the second bus. Then the second bus came, you looked at it you say, "eew...this bus is so old...so shabby!" So you let the bus leave and again, decided to wait for the next bus. After a while another bus came, it's not crowded, not old but you said, "eeee...not air-conditioned ...better wait for the next one". So again you let the bus go and decided to wait for the next bus. Then the sky started to get dark as it is getting late. You panicked and jumped immediately inside the next bus. It is not until much later that you found out that you had boarded the wrong bus! So you wasted your time and energy waiting for what you want! Even if an air-conditioned bus comes, you can't ensure that the air-conditioned bus won't break down ! or whether or not the airconditioner will be too cold for you. So people... wanting to get what you want is not wrong. But it wouldn't hurt to give other person a chance, right? If you find that the "bus" doesn't suit you just press the red button and get off the bus!(as simple as that!)<o:p></o:p></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698790455714612545.post-3087350590483582982009-10-28T06:07:00.000-07:002011-02-10T08:31:15.968-08:00Empowering priorities<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFgMchvbPhvBV4iIaAU8wFykPH8mzCkPEgriQD2lSv3PegjTPmMe9vPTOfp1sRoB0mi6OzS7iGyfdSKvZb0GvQRKBYZxeusYc0DXebuPIcu23_18shqYBOLvVnsnhBmH1SHQXewTMeuSGP/s1600/random+007.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFgMchvbPhvBV4iIaAU8wFykPH8mzCkPEgriQD2lSv3PegjTPmMe9vPTOfp1sRoB0mi6OzS7iGyfdSKvZb0GvQRKBYZxeusYc0DXebuPIcu23_18shqYBOLvVnsnhBmH1SHQXewTMeuSGP/s320/random+007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572099301026941746" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">They say, “Exception proves the rule.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Heisenberg stated that certainty in position and momentum of a particle cannot prevail simultaneously. My dad is one of those few exceptions who defy this law of uncertainty.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I have always known my dad to be an ‘ideal dad’, doing every special thing for his darling li’l daughter. And it is difficult for a person who sees dad in this role to visualize him as a dedicated workman. My dad works in a power plant. He is no doubt, a workaholic; and on my visit to his office premises, I have derived that he his quite important and sought after, not just in office, but in entire township. Or perhaps a greater are than that. And in spite of all the airs, dad stands firm on his grounds.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Coal is extracted from the mines and burnt in furnaces to produce thermal energy, which is used to produce electricity. This is what happens in every power plant. The general processes of operation, commissioning, managing and directing are all the same. Dad has to do the same thing in every power plant; so changing from one company to other in the power sector is no big deal! Or so I thought, till I read between the lines of my dad’s mind. Had I been a senior official in a company where I’ve worked for 25 years, owning a huge office and humongous respect of thousands of people, it would have been equally difficult for me to let my hedonism give way to evanescence. That is human instinct- to be scared of an uncertainty, even if it might be one step closer to the zenith.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">“The heart does things for reasons that reason doesn’t understand.” </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Dad lover his job and his colleagues; and changing job may initially not give dad a better life. I mean, if you have cranberries, all you can do is make them less sour, you can’t altogether transform them into sugar. Incidentally, I am the paradox to which this situation happens to be the only solution. Dad might be joining a new company, but I am the power plant he is worried about. No down, I’ve always been provided with the anthracite, but now I need an efficient resource manager for sustainable development. My dad is the most efficient person. That’s the reason why every power plant needs dad.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Everything in life changes, but change is a constant. We get used to the changes. Dad makes his own rules. He has the momentum; he will soon determine his position.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Aryakihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10183558460483804212noreply@blogger.com2