A syllable (Greek: συλλαβή) is a unit of organization for a sequence of speech sounds. For example, the word water is composed of two syllables: wa and ter.Syllables are often considered the phonological "building blocks" of words.
Learn the syllable rules at here and here too.
And if you are forgetful(like me) or lazty or till you are sure of your count, use the syllable counters at Counter1 or Counter 2(this counter needs to e refreshed frequently).
ps: please do read the rules once even if you want to use the counter forever
pps: get ready for the next poetic lesson this monday based on syllable count
February 28, 2009
Indus script decoded!!
(Hi fellas, just wanted to share this.. since it is a great achievement on the part of our historians..)
Indus script decoded, announces Dr. S. Kalyanaraman
Press Release, 26 February 2009
The implications of the conclusive decoding of the writing system are that the Aryan Invasion/Migration theories are myths since the languages of India had evolved indigenously with intense interactions among ancient versions of present-day languages of the nation. Those who theorise about Indo-European homeland have to rework on their theses. The findings prove an essential cultural unity among Indian languages founded on a continuing culture which emerged on the Vedic Sarasvati river basin.
Gen. Alexander Cunningham, had discovered in 1875, the first known Indus seal (British Museum 1892-12-10, 1) at Harappa. For the last 134 years, scholars have been trying to decipher the writing system on about 4000 such seals and objects with inscriptions.
Dr. S. Kalyanaraman, Director of Sarasvati Research Centre is making a historic announcement in a lecture at Rojah Muthiah Library, Chennai on his decoding of the writing system of Indus script. His 30 years of research have led him to conclude that the writing system was composed of graphics (like picture writing) read rebus. (Rebus means similar sounding words which can be represented by pictures – for example, words which actually represent mine workers’ and metal smiths’ possessions of furnaces and smelters, minerals, metals and alloys they created for trade.) The Vedic Sarasvati River Basin close to Khetri and Zawar mines of Rajasthan had 80% of the ancient settlements of the speakers of ancient versions of present-day Indian languages. Many of these settlements also yielded objects—such as seals, seal impressions, copper plates, weapons and metal tools-- containing the writing system.
Dr. Kalyanaraman’s finding is that the ancestors of the present-day speakers of all Indian languages -- Aryan, Dravidian, Munda languages -- were living together in what scholars call a ‘linguistic area’ – an area where speakers of different dialects borrow language features from one another and make the features part of their own dialects. This path-breaking finding also explains the reason why over 30% of agricultural words in Indian languages do not have any links with Indo-European languages and why over 40% of the words used in early Vedic and Sanskrit texts contain many word borrowed from Dravidian and Munda Similarly, the metallurgical words used by miners and smiths also are unique to the community of Indian languages showing an indigenous formation and evolution of early metallurgical techniques and related language words.
The finding is also significant because the invention of early metals and techniques of alloying and trade in the metal artefacts necessitated the invention of a writing system. The symbols used are referred to as Sarasvati hieroglyphs including pictures of many animals – markhor, ibex, goat, elephant, tiger, rhinoceros, alligator, buffalo, zebu, ox, heifer, fishes, archer – and also graphics derived from objects such as: rim of jar, rimless pot, rice plant sprout, comb, harrow, ficus leaf. All these glyphs have been read rebus and shown to relate to miners’ and smiths’ professional repertoire, thus the inscriptions were effective calling cards of these artisans. There is also a sign-board which once adorned the gate of the fort of Dholavira about 4500 years ago and contained 10 glyphs to communicate the message of the workshop of smiths offering many metallurgical services such as metal casting and forging. This constitutes the earliest advertisement hoarding in civilization history of a huge size: each sign is 37 cm. high and 25 to 27 cm. wide and made of white mother-of-pearl.
The language was called mleccha in ancient Indian texts and called meluhha in Mesopotamian texts. It is significant that milakkhu in Pali language and mlecchamukha in Sanskrit both mean ‘copper’ confirming the fact that the language-speakers of mleccha were metal workers.
The implications of the conclusive decoding of the writing system are that the Aryan Invasion/Migration theories are myths since the languages of India had evolved indigenously with intense interactions among ancient versions of present-day languages of the nation. Those who theorise about Indo-European homeland have to rework on their theses. The findings prove an essential cultural unity among Indian languages founded on a continuing culture which emerged on the Vedic Sarasvati river basin.
For example, he demonstrates a pectoral (steatite pendant ornament) with glyphs: one-horned heifer, with pannier and an overflowing pot and explains the meanings: copper smith’s metal casting workshop, furnace of miner (kod ‘workshop’; rebus reading kod ‘horn’); (kamarsaala, rebus reading of kammarsaala ‘pannier’); (kand kanka ‘rim of jar’; rebus: miner’s furnace); (ere ‘casting metal’; rebus: ere ‘overflowing’). In front of the ligatured animal is a standard device. It is sangada ‘lathe’, ‘portable furnace’; rebus reading: sangataraasu ‘stone-cutter’. The lapidaries’ work has yielded exquisite ornaments made of carnelian, agate, lapis lazuli and other semi-precious stones. The trough shown in front of many animals is read as ‘pattar’ which also means ‘guild of goldsmiths’.
The lecture of Kalyanaraman and his powerpoint presentation are scheduled at 5 PM at Rojah Muthiah Library, Taramani, Chennai on 26 February 2009.
S. Kalyanaraman, Ph.D.,
Director, Sarasvati Research Centre
kalyan97@gmail.com
Indus script decoded, announces Dr. S. Kalyanaraman
Press Release, 26 February 2009
The implications of the conclusive decoding of the writing system are that the Aryan Invasion/Migration theories are myths since the languages of India had evolved indigenously with intense interactions among ancient versions of present-day languages of the nation. Those who theorise about Indo-European homeland have to rework on their theses. The findings prove an essential cultural unity among Indian languages founded on a continuing culture which emerged on the Vedic Sarasvati river basin.
Gen. Alexander Cunningham, had discovered in 1875, the first known Indus seal (British Museum 1892-12-10, 1) at Harappa. For the last 134 years, scholars have been trying to decipher the writing system on about 4000 such seals and objects with inscriptions.
Dr. S. Kalyanaraman, Director of Sarasvati Research Centre is making a historic announcement in a lecture at Rojah Muthiah Library, Chennai on his decoding of the writing system of Indus script. His 30 years of research have led him to conclude that the writing system was composed of graphics (like picture writing) read rebus. (Rebus means similar sounding words which can be represented by pictures – for example, words which actually represent mine workers’ and metal smiths’ possessions of furnaces and smelters, minerals, metals and alloys they created for trade.) The Vedic Sarasvati River Basin close to Khetri and Zawar mines of Rajasthan had 80% of the ancient settlements of the speakers of ancient versions of present-day Indian languages. Many of these settlements also yielded objects—such as seals, seal impressions, copper plates, weapons and metal tools-- containing the writing system.
Dr. Kalyanaraman’s finding is that the ancestors of the present-day speakers of all Indian languages -- Aryan, Dravidian, Munda languages -- were living together in what scholars call a ‘linguistic area’ – an area where speakers of different dialects borrow language features from one another and make the features part of their own dialects. This path-breaking finding also explains the reason why over 30% of agricultural words in Indian languages do not have any links with Indo-European languages and why over 40% of the words used in early Vedic and Sanskrit texts contain many word borrowed from Dravidian and Munda Similarly, the metallurgical words used by miners and smiths also are unique to the community of Indian languages showing an indigenous formation and evolution of early metallurgical techniques and related language words.
The finding is also significant because the invention of early metals and techniques of alloying and trade in the metal artefacts necessitated the invention of a writing system. The symbols used are referred to as Sarasvati hieroglyphs including pictures of many animals – markhor, ibex, goat, elephant, tiger, rhinoceros, alligator, buffalo, zebu, ox, heifer, fishes, archer – and also graphics derived from objects such as: rim of jar, rimless pot, rice plant sprout, comb, harrow, ficus leaf. All these glyphs have been read rebus and shown to relate to miners’ and smiths’ professional repertoire, thus the inscriptions were effective calling cards of these artisans. There is also a sign-board which once adorned the gate of the fort of Dholavira about 4500 years ago and contained 10 glyphs to communicate the message of the workshop of smiths offering many metallurgical services such as metal casting and forging. This constitutes the earliest advertisement hoarding in civilization history of a huge size: each sign is 37 cm. high and 25 to 27 cm. wide and made of white mother-of-pearl.
The language was called mleccha in ancient Indian texts and called meluhha in Mesopotamian texts. It is significant that milakkhu in Pali language and mlecchamukha in Sanskrit both mean ‘copper’ confirming the fact that the language-speakers of mleccha were metal workers.
The implications of the conclusive decoding of the writing system are that the Aryan Invasion/Migration theories are myths since the languages of India had evolved indigenously with intense interactions among ancient versions of present-day languages of the nation. Those who theorise about Indo-European homeland have to rework on their theses. The findings prove an essential cultural unity among Indian languages founded on a continuing culture which emerged on the Vedic Sarasvati river basin.
For example, he demonstrates a pectoral (steatite pendant ornament) with glyphs: one-horned heifer, with pannier and an overflowing pot and explains the meanings: copper smith’s metal casting workshop, furnace of miner (kod ‘workshop’; rebus reading kod ‘horn’); (kamarsaala, rebus reading of kammarsaala ‘pannier’); (kand kanka ‘rim of jar’; rebus: miner’s furnace); (ere ‘casting metal’; rebus: ere ‘overflowing’). In front of the ligatured animal is a standard device. It is sangada ‘lathe’, ‘portable furnace’; rebus reading: sangataraasu ‘stone-cutter’. The lapidaries’ work has yielded exquisite ornaments made of carnelian, agate, lapis lazuli and other semi-precious stones. The trough shown in front of many animals is read as ‘pattar’ which also means ‘guild of goldsmiths’.
The lecture of Kalyanaraman and his powerpoint presentation are scheduled at 5 PM at Rojah Muthiah Library, Taramani, Chennai on 26 February 2009.
S. Kalyanaraman, Ph.D.,
Director, Sarasvati Research Centre
kalyan97@gmail.com
tongue-twister twists tongues !!
Heyloo, I have got some tongue twister for you guys. Awrite..if you understand ,say “understand”. If you don’t understand say “don’t understand”. But if you understand and say “ don’t understand”. How I understand that you understand?? Understand! .Ok..Here we go.. Read it real fast
a) If you tell Tan to tell a tongue –twister his tongue will be twisted as tongue-twister twists tongues.
b) Mr Inside went over to see Mr. Outside. Mr. Inside stood outside and called to Mr. Outside inside. Mr. Outside answered Mr. Inside from inside and Told Mr. Inside to come inside. Mr.Inside said ‘ No’ and told Mr Outside to come outside. Mr Outside and Mr. Inside argued from inside and outside about going outside or coming inside. Finally Mr. Outside coaxed Mr. Inside to come inside, then both Mr. Outside and Mr. Inside went outside to the riverside to see riversoul.
c) Nan and nice night nurses nursing nicely.
d) If two witches were watching two watches, which witch would watch which watch?
e) I thought a thought, but the thought I thought wasn’t the thought I thought I thought. If the thought I thought I thought had been the thought I thought, I wouldn’t have thought so much.
f) A flea and a fly in a flue, said the fly” Oh what should we do ”Said the flea” Let us fly Said the fly” Let us flee” So they flew through a flaw in the flue.
g) I wish to wish the wish you wish to wish, but if you wish the wish the witch wishes, I won’t wish the wish you wish to wish.
h) Mr. See owned a saw. And Mr. Soar owned a seesaw. Now See’s saw sawed Soar’s seesaw Before Soar saw See, which made Soar sore. Had Soar seen See’s saw Before See sawed Soar’s seesaw. See’s saw would not have sawed Soar’s seesaw. So See’s saw sawed Soar’s seesaw. But it was sad to see Soar so sore Just b’coz See’s saw sawed Soar’s seesaw….
PS - Don’t read it too much. I got my tongue X-rayed yesterday!
I Could Visualize You!
Sitting in an gloomy setting,
With eyes closed and body wrapped up,
Unattended to the world outside,
And engrossed in the turmoil inside,
With too many questions and as many voices,
And yet not a word to say or someone to hear,
I could easily visualize you.
With all the moment playing across the mind,
And all the helplessness killing you inside,
So many introspections and yet no answers,
So many people and yet not one familiar,
You had so much to wonder and so much to decipher,
Life seemed ended and yet you were living,
Eyes wet and yet the tears were frozen,
You wanted that one face to relieve you,
Yet there was no one,
And I could easily visualize you.
There was one outstretched hand wanting to reach you,
It was the hand among the millions of hands,
It wasn’t a stranger yet it was helpless,
It wanted to reach to that face which was miles away,
It wanted to catch those helpless arms and wipe those frozen tears,
It wanted to embrace that sullen body and vigor it up,
It wanted to sit beside and just let the tears flows and words come forth,
It wanted to be just make the presence to ward off the loneliness,
It wanted to be the Guardian of my own Angel,
I wanted to do all I could as,
I could easily visualize you
Visualize and visualizing was all that was done,
Minds telling the Minds of “Being there”,
Heart feeling the heart beats,
And eyes could easily see the pains,
Spirits from inside were flying across the miles,
Floating outside the windows and protecting her,
Like the ways she comforted me forever,
Those angels and spirits were perpetual like the prayers,
Telling her let the gloominess away and there is a shred of light waiting outside,
That light wanted to take her and make her all cherry,
And make her feel treasured even in her loneliness,
As she still sits in that gloominess all I could do is pray,
Even though I could easily visualize her.
Turning Over A New Leaf
I sat down on the steps beside the lake, in a hope that the serenity of the nature would bring tranquility and solace to my perturbed mind. As I gingerly dipped my feet into the cool water, many fish surrounded to tickle my feet with their pouting mouths.
I was immersed reminiscing those days.
We were happy together.
Or, atleast, I was.
We made many promises.
Only to be broken later.
He cheated me. He betrayed my love.
As I disembarked the flight from US, my heart raced and my eyes pined for the sight of him. I was disappointed that he didn't turn up at the airport to receive me. I went to his home expectantly. The world spun dizzily as he shut the door on my face. I was devastated to learn that he was committed to some other girl in my absence. He said he was frustrated with the long-distance love. He accused me that I wasn't any near to him and left him alone at the time he needed me.
Our love melted with the miles that stretched to part our hearts. All those days I was away from him, I desperately waited for the moment of reunion and never gave a thought to any other man.
I thought our love was strong enough to endure the separating distance.
I was wrong.
He just didn't love me enough.
How do I tell my parents to stop my engagement with some other man?
I will get married soon against my wishes.
But how could I forget him?
Won't this twinging pain crunching my heart subside?
Interrupting my thoughts, a gust of breeze blew creating whirls in the lake. Leaves from the Maple tree, adjacent to the lake, fell from the twigs and with a ruffling noise, landed on the water.
I watched as a brown-tinted, withered leaf swirled on the water surface and after some time disappeared to the depths of the lake without any trace.
I was immersed reminiscing those days.
We were happy together.
Or, atleast, I was.
We made many promises.
Only to be broken later.
He cheated me. He betrayed my love.
As I disembarked the flight from US, my heart raced and my eyes pined for the sight of him. I was disappointed that he didn't turn up at the airport to receive me. I went to his home expectantly. The world spun dizzily as he shut the door on my face. I was devastated to learn that he was committed to some other girl in my absence. He said he was frustrated with the long-distance love. He accused me that I wasn't any near to him and left him alone at the time he needed me.
Our love melted with the miles that stretched to part our hearts. All those days I was away from him, I desperately waited for the moment of reunion and never gave a thought to any other man.
I thought our love was strong enough to endure the separating distance.
I was wrong.
He just didn't love me enough.
How do I tell my parents to stop my engagement with some other man?
I will get married soon against my wishes.
But how could I forget him?
Won't this twinging pain crunching my heart subside?
Interrupting my thoughts, a gust of breeze blew creating whirls in the lake. Leaves from the Maple tree, adjacent to the lake, fell from the twigs and with a ruffling noise, landed on the water.
I watched as a brown-tinted, withered leaf swirled on the water surface and after some time disappeared to the depths of the lake without any trace.
Another tender green leaf floated on the surface creating ripples which emanated from center and along with the water current flowed towards me.
I bent down to take the green leaf from the water. As I stared towards the leaf, holding it by its stalk, my gaze shifted to something moving behind the image of the leaf.
I saw my fiancé coming towards me, with a smiling face from the other end of the lake.
I saw it as a start to many more newer beginnings.
I smiled and waved to him as he sat down beside me.
I held the leaf close to my heart as I talked to him for the first time properly, pushing away my past.
After I got to know him, I realized that he was everything that I wanted my life partner to be.
I treasured the leaf which brought novel hopes into my life, inside the pages of my diary.
Aaj Bhi...
Hey Chums,this is my first attempt at hindi poetry.
Aaj yun hi kalam uthakar kuch likhne ka mann hua,
I am putting it up with an anxious mind..Your suggestions and criticism welcomed.
Here it goes,
Aaj yun hi kalam uthakar kuch likhne ka mann hua,
I am putting it up with an anxious mind..Your suggestions and criticism welcomed.
Here it goes,
"Yaadon ke samundar mein jhaank kar to dekho,
aaj bhi meri yaadon mein doob jaoge
dil ki gehraaiyon mein utar kar to dekho,
aaj bhi mere khayaalon mein kho jaoge,
hasraton ki viraasat ko tatol kar to dekho,
aaj bhi mera hi naam padhkar hairaan reh jaoge,
sapnon ke bikhre hue shishon ko jodkar to dekho,
aaj bhi meri parchaaiyon mein khud ko dhoondhte reh jaoge,
jazbaaton ki kashti mein baithkar to dekho,
aaj bhi mere ehsaas mein beh jaoge
khwaahishon ki udaan bhar kar to dekho,
aaj bhi mujhe apne kareeb hi paoge"
This is dedicated to a dear friend,who is finding it hard to survive,after an unfortunate break-up.
I have just tried voicing out her poignent sentiments.
aaj bhi meri yaadon mein doob jaoge
dil ki gehraaiyon mein utar kar to dekho,
aaj bhi mere khayaalon mein kho jaoge,
hasraton ki viraasat ko tatol kar to dekho,
aaj bhi mera hi naam padhkar hairaan reh jaoge,
sapnon ke bikhre hue shishon ko jodkar to dekho,
aaj bhi meri parchaaiyon mein khud ko dhoondhte reh jaoge,
jazbaaton ki kashti mein baithkar to dekho,
aaj bhi mere ehsaas mein beh jaoge
khwaahishon ki udaan bhar kar to dekho,
aaj bhi mujhe apne kareeb hi paoge"
This is dedicated to a dear friend,who is finding it hard to survive,after an unfortunate break-up.
I have just tried voicing out her poignent sentiments.
Of Awards and Propaganda
For all its merits of modernity (or globallization), there are some flaws too.
Now, it is indeed a fact that the Anglo Saxon group has coveted the world and it has been a harbinger of technology and progress. Pax Americana, the current era under which we live right now has given us such technological progress that it has dramatically improved human life all over the place. Those of us who have been able to derive benefits from this have moved ahead in our personal lives.
But this has been at a great cost to local cultures and civilizations. The places where the above mentioned group has gone to have had to face tremendous loss of lives and fortune to get this 'manna' of civilization from the West. And in places where they have not been able to destroy local cultures, the locals have had their minds subverted to being subservient to the West forever. People view their culture as lowly and , and anything made in the West is treated to be heavenly and divine.
Something similar happens in the award category. While we all know that awards are meant for hard work and achievements, there is an often unseen dimension to awards. That they can also be given by propagandists of a cause, or an image.
And so, in India, while people may give back awards from the government as below:
which may or may not be for a just cause, people do not think twice before accepting awards from western governments or institutions.
For an example of how this propaganda takes place, have a look at the winner of the 10th annual Jonathan Mann Award. A yet ambiguous case still pends against him and yet he gets 22 Nobel Prize winners demanding his release.
And now, we have slumdog millionaire. Nobody in India needs to be reminded of slums. Poverty is endemic in many places in the country, even the rich might not be able to avoid the sight of slums as they may have to go by them on their way to work. If people had to generate awareness, one trip outside would suffice. The plea for slumdog apologists that it is the beacon of truth and enlightenment is pure baloney.
And if we are thinking that slumdog is a slang for a person from the slums and is a commonly used word, then we are wrong. The word does not exist, at least in this dictionary. It is but a hangover of us being called dogs by natives of the nation that might not even have existed when India was at its zenith. For them, we are still what we are 60 years ago. In this day and age, inspite of sections of the Indian society having started to march ahead, we seem to have no right to dream, no right to look up and no right to relieve ourselves of our troubles even temporarily by demanding a feel good movie. We need to be kicked and punched and thrown back into the same hole, that is what the white man seems to be saying. Even a woman of a newly turned middle class family would try to hide her ugliness, if any. Why not mother India?
I have not seen the movie, so I can't say more. What appalls me is that our own people have fallen for the trap, and allowing this portrayal of poverty in India to win acclaim and getting back Oscars. And although many a common Indian has raised his voice against it, but since we are not part of the movie, our word will not be accepted. Instead of allowing the contrarians some space, voices against the movie have been dismissed by a member of the star cast as being jealous or worse, childish.
Bear with me for the large number of links, but the article would only make sense if you have a glimpse of every article linked.
Now, it is indeed a fact that the Anglo Saxon group has coveted the world and it has been a harbinger of technology and progress. Pax Americana, the current era under which we live right now has given us such technological progress that it has dramatically improved human life all over the place. Those of us who have been able to derive benefits from this have moved ahead in our personal lives.
But this has been at a great cost to local cultures and civilizations. The places where the above mentioned group has gone to have had to face tremendous loss of lives and fortune to get this 'manna' of civilization from the West. And in places where they have not been able to destroy local cultures, the locals have had their minds subverted to being subservient to the West forever. People view their culture as lowly and , and anything made in the West is treated to be heavenly and divine.
Something similar happens in the award category. While we all know that awards are meant for hard work and achievements, there is an often unseen dimension to awards. That they can also be given by propagandists of a cause, or an image.
And so, in India, while people may give back awards from the government as below:
“I have a great deal of respect for the Sahitya Akademi, for the members of this year's Jury and for many of the writers who have received these awards in the past. But to register my protest and reaffirm my disagreement — indeed my absolute disgust — with these policies of the Indian Government, I must refuse to accept the 2005 Sahtiya Akademi Award”, Arundhati said in a statement here.
“These essays written between 1998 and 2001 are deeply critical of some of the major policies of the Indian State”, she said. The main area of her disgreement included the government policies of constructing big dams, persuing nuclear weapons, increasing militarisation and economic liberalisation."
which may or may not be for a just cause, people do not think twice before accepting awards from western governments or institutions.
For an example of how this propaganda takes place, have a look at the winner of the 10th annual Jonathan Mann Award. A yet ambiguous case still pends against him and yet he gets 22 Nobel Prize winners demanding his release.
And now, we have slumdog millionaire. Nobody in India needs to be reminded of slums. Poverty is endemic in many places in the country, even the rich might not be able to avoid the sight of slums as they may have to go by them on their way to work. If people had to generate awareness, one trip outside would suffice. The plea for slumdog apologists that it is the beacon of truth and enlightenment is pure baloney.
And if we are thinking that slumdog is a slang for a person from the slums and is a commonly used word, then we are wrong. The word does not exist, at least in this dictionary. It is but a hangover of us being called dogs by natives of the nation that might not even have existed when India was at its zenith. For them, we are still what we are 60 years ago. In this day and age, inspite of sections of the Indian society having started to march ahead, we seem to have no right to dream, no right to look up and no right to relieve ourselves of our troubles even temporarily by demanding a feel good movie. We need to be kicked and punched and thrown back into the same hole, that is what the white man seems to be saying. Even a woman of a newly turned middle class family would try to hide her ugliness, if any. Why not mother India?
I have not seen the movie, so I can't say more. What appalls me is that our own people have fallen for the trap, and allowing this portrayal of poverty in India to win acclaim and getting back Oscars. And although many a common Indian has raised his voice against it, but since we are not part of the movie, our word will not be accepted. Instead of allowing the contrarians some space, voices against the movie have been dismissed by a member of the star cast as being jealous or worse, childish.
Bear with me for the large number of links, but the article would only make sense if you have a glimpse of every article linked.
LIFE TIES...
People go away but feelings persist...
those emotions no one can resist...
though away we can still talk...
through often visited paths..
yes.. we can again walk...
such is the relation, that no one can steal..
a wound even time fails to heal..
ETERNAL RELATIONS PERSIST...
BREAK NEVER...
but only when we close the last chapter
those emotions no one can resist...
though away we can still talk...
through often visited paths..
yes.. we can again walk...
such is the relation, that no one can steal..
a wound even time fails to heal..
ETERNAL RELATIONS PERSIST...
BREAK NEVER...
but only when we close the last chapter
and separate forever......
Syllable
just a ques for all :
Do you know what is a syllable ??
How to count number of syllables in a word ??
Let me know so i can plan my next lesson in poetry styles accordingly. Either i will have to post about syllables and the poetry style, or i will search something which doesnt include syllable count..
Do you know what is a syllable ??
How to count number of syllables in a word ??
Let me know so i can plan my next lesson in poetry styles accordingly. Either i will have to post about syllables and the poetry style, or i will search something which doesnt include syllable count..
A Soap Case
Shona was bathing in the pond near her house. It is not their own, but since it is in the neighborhood, everyone in her house used to bath in this pond. A fishpond, but habitually used for bathing and washing. Where else would everybody go? They had only two ponds in the village and the other one is strictly used by the fisheries. She dipped in a couple of times and came out. She was about to keep the soap on the rock near her and it just slipped out of her hands and fell into the water. She dipped in again and searched for a long time, but could not retrieve it. She cried, but no one came to her aid, for it was noon and everybody was busy working in the fields. No one had time to search a soap cake in water for this 7 years old kid. She was alone. She was helpless and she was at fault. This is the second soap in two months that her father bought her a soap cake and she lost it. A soap might cost a huge sum and that was the reason father never used to get her one that frequently. Father will be fuming on this and may not buy her any more soap in the future. She has lost her soap now – probably the last one! Her bathing was over.
She cried for a couple of minutes more, but once she realized that there would be no one coming towards her, she stood up. She gathered her wet cloths and started walking back towards home.
She cried for a couple of minutes more, but once she realized that there would be no one coming towards her, she stood up. She gathered her wet cloths and started walking back towards home.
“It’s not my fault at all,” she told to herself. “I asked father to bring a soap case along with the soap. He did not bring it last time too. I warned him about this. Maybe, I did. Whatever, but it’s not my fault. It’s his fault that I lost the soap today. I would not cry anymore. Why should I? Even Lailee lost her soap the other day and she borrowed mine. And this time, it’s not my mistake. I’ll ask father to buy me one more soap and this time and a soap case as well – the pink one!” She was confident now and had all the answers to father’s probable questions.
Shona talked to herself all the way home. She was convinced that it was not her liability that the soap was lost. She was even prepared to face her father now and was sure to scold him for not buying her the case. She would not let him escape by scolding her for no fault of her own. After all, the soap was lost for the want of a case!
She looked around as she crossed the fencing around their house. There was no one there; probably the ladies were all asleep and her father was obviously in the field. She crept in silently. She went to the hanging lines and hung her cloths. She paid her regards to the Gods in the small temple and went inside the house. Everybody else was asleep, as she thought. She went to the kitchen and had her lunch. It was almost time to go to play now and she did not waste a single moment to reach Lailee’s house. She had forgotten about the soap totally by now.
She came back before dusk, cleaned herself and took out her books. She sat on the mat with a bowlful of puffed rice mixed with onions and some mustard oil. It was almost dark and she had to use the lantern. She has just started learning the alphabet and it was fun for her. Everything was so new and funny. No one in the house could read any of those symbols there. If it would not have been for her selfless teaching, her father would not have been able to recognize anything from that book. She was proud because of that and used to put a lot of effort while studying and teaching. She had almost finished the alphabet now and would start learning the digits in some days. She was very happy. She took out the book and started to read the letters on top of her voice.
“Shonaaa…” Her father called her aloud once he entered the premises of the house. She ran out of the house and leaped on him, as any other good evening. The very touch of her father sunk something deep inside her. She remembered the soap! Oh! All her happiness disappeared. She felt vanquished. All her thoughts of self confidence vanished. She was in her father’s arms – the safest place in the world she knew; but that could not stop her from howling out! She grabbed her father with both hands; as tightly as possible and broke into tears. Father kept on asking what happened but did not get a reply. She kept on shedding tears as he was holding her close to him. She cried and cried more and when she was tired, she slept – all the time in her father’s arms. After a long time when there was no more sound and no more tears on his shoulders, the father realized that Shona was asleep. He shook her a little and got no response. He took her to the bed and slowly but carefully laid her down. Just before he left her, two words came out of her mouth, which made no sense to him, “Soap Case.”
Also posted at: Thus Spake Tan! on February 25, 2009.
Written on Theme suggested in Heads or Tails.
February 27, 2009
POETRY
Here goes my first attempt at acrostic poetry as promised to prats...
i know its way too stupid but tolerate me for this one :P
POETRY
i know its way too stupid but tolerate me for this one :P
POETRY
Perceptions relating to life,
Often expressed in the form of words,
Entangled in a rather musical form,
Twisted like the twisted mind ,
Representing the inner emotions,
Yielding to the fantasies of the mind!
Often expressed in the form of words,
Entangled in a rather musical form,
Twisted like the twisted mind ,
Representing the inner emotions,
Yielding to the fantasies of the mind!
Defeat !
DEFEAT!
Understand me darling,
will you please!
I need to be here,
With you around you,
To love you to hold you,
Through-out this pain,
I know i can't reduce it,
But can help you,
Growing you making you strong,
Encourage you and guide you,
Even i can't bear,
Your reddish eyes filled with tears,
But here i am,
For you to assure,
I still love you,
With all you are,
No matter how you are,
I believe and want you,
to believe that,
My love can defeat,
All pain of your's!
will you please!
I need to be here,
With you around you,
To love you to hold you,
Through-out this pain,
I know i can't reduce it,
But can help you,
Growing you making you strong,
Encourage you and guide you,
Even i can't bear,
Your reddish eyes filled with tears,
But here i am,
For you to assure,
I still love you,
With all you are,
No matter how you are,
I believe and want you,
to believe that,
My love can defeat,
All pain of your's!
-illusiOn~
PS(I wrote this and one more for my story "Ehsaas" but unfortunately i am unable to post it here till next thursday till then enjoy this)
Acrostic Poetry...
Here goes my second attempt,
Emotions
Embedded safely in a corner of my heart,they
move me to countless tears an laughter,an
ocean of intoxicating recollections and
treasure house of cherishing fantasies,
inevitable flowers of eternal fragrance
oblivious to the symphony of life,they are
nuggets of panacea,that urge me to
muster the sands of time.
Emotions
Embedded safely in a corner of my heart,they
move me to countless tears an laughter,an
ocean of intoxicating recollections and
treasure house of cherishing fantasies,
inevitable flowers of eternal fragrance
oblivious to the symphony of life,they are
nuggets of panacea,that urge me to
muster the sands of time.
Life goes on.
Loved and lost?
Inspired or not?
Fought and gave up?
Each day is a new challenge.
Gear up!
Off that seat.
Emerse yourself in a quest to
Seek what you deserve.
Open new doors. Give up
Not. This is all you got.
I really must stop this naa??? Enough of these... I actually got up mid slumber to post this... M off again!
Thanks...
To you i offer my
Heartiest feelings of
Affection and love.
Never did i think,
Knowledge is valued so.
You are just awesome,
One of the best i know to
Undertake any challenge and win.
Heartiest feelings of
Affection and love.
Never did i think,
Knowledge is valued so.
You are just awesome,
One of the best i know to
Undertake any challenge and win.
to all the people who have read, tried, posted Acrostics and also appreciated my post about it.. I am glad to share my experiments here coz i know few will love to learn it too and not just read ...
Love ya all!!
*Hugzz*
The Pensive Me!
Looking at the moon,
Looking at the Stars,
And looking at the Sky,
I wondered and wondered,
Wondered with a glint of pensiveness,
With a glint of the days bygone,
And with a glint of regrets.
Regrets for the time that’s far beyond reach,
Regrets for the time which was once most cherished,
Regrets for some things which were so part of me,
Regrets for the lovely moments which today seem so empty,
Regrets for the realization and Regrets for the today’s Truth.
Truth that was a lie yesterday,
Truth which was confronting me forever,
Truth which was veiled and hidden,
Truth whose reality was just too dark,
Truth which had shaken me enough not to even sleep,
Truth which was so bitter that I preferred the lie.
Lies and Truths, veils and realizations were around,
Blinded by faith and Aghast to realities,
I walked and I walk succumbing myself to fate,
Fate which was brighter yet illuminated by a darker past,
Past which haunts me of the Feeble minded me.
Me of the past years,
Me of the present decade,
Me with a past,
Me with an illuminating present,
Me with regrets,
And Me with that experience,
Me with shredded tears,
And Me with a zeal of moving past it!
On The Highway..!!
(Hey guys, fed up of humour, I tried a different genre. Talk about experimenting..!! Okay, brace yourself and get ready for a thrilling drive.)
Refilling petrol into his Ford, Vishal swung into a small, silent, lifeless lane. He turned on his music player and threw a glance at the dashboard clock, which said- 8pm. It was starkly dark as he drove steadily ahead in search of an entry point to get back into the highway. The road became narrower and darker as the surrounding woods got denser. He could have touched the highway by just retracing the route by which he had come from, but somewhere in his adventurous mind, he thought- “Lets explore.” But now, as he passed well through the village limits, he wondered- “ Do I need this?” He noticed a hitch in his voice and repeated loudly to himself- “ Do I need this crap? No right?”
Suddenly the head beams illuminated a large wooden sign attached to a tree, and Vishal stopped the car. He stared out of the windshield into the old, dirty, bedraggled wooden board and noticed a familiar word STOP. The rest of the sign was incomprehensive, but he could notice another similar word- DEAD END.” He observed his head beams illuminate a small metal barricade about 50 metres in front of him, which blocked the road. The road looked perfectly fine ahead, which made him contemplate as to why such a board was put up. He surveyed the glove box on the dashboard, in search of his torch. He dug out a small piece of paper, which was in it and read it with the help of the torch. It said-“ Toll fee- Rs.35.” He entwined and crushed it, threw it outside and stepped out with the torch in his hand though he had kept the car’s head lights on.
He walked tardily as the dry leaves on the road made crisp sounds as he stepped over them. He reached the barricade, scanned around the place with his torch and found nothing to apprehend the wooden sign to. ”Somethin’ fishy” he said in his mind. With feelings of ambivalence, he started his walk back to his car, covering his eyes from the glare of the car’s powerful head beams. With silence surrounding him, he could literally hear his breath and the crisp sounds of the dry leaves as the wind blew. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked- an unfriendly bark, he decided. He got closer to the car with just ten strides away from it- one… two…three…. four…five..and he froze. A human hand rested on his shoulders with blood dripping through it and a struggling male voice cried- “ Hey….Hey….”
--
--
--
His dashboard clock read 8:30 pm and his speedometer read 110 kms/hr. He was back on the highway, he screamed at himself- “fuckin speed-breakers” and jumped over one. He was sweating profusely, though the car’s air conditioning was switched on. He noticed his music player was still playing, and turned it off in a flash. A milestone read- “Chennai – 98kms.” He found another, the third ‘toll-booth’ on the highway so far and stopped to pay and then proceeded. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, luckily it could catch the network signal and he dialed his close buddy Vijay, whom he was supposed to meet in Chennai. Moreover, he had to confide in someone close to him, preferably a good crony.
Vijay- “ Hey bro..!! You are late. I’m waiting. What’s up?”
Vishal- “ Hey Vijay.” He cleared his throat and continued- “ Listen, I need to tell you something. Something dangerously important.”
Vijay- “Buddy, you sound tense. What’s wrong?”
Vishal- “ Yeah. On the way, I had to enter a small village to refill petrol after which, I headed along through the village road in search of the highway entry point, where I found a ‘dead-end’ sign. I got down to check out and man… shit” He pulled out the small water bottle from his glove box, emptied it in one go and continued- “ A person, a middle aged person, with blood stains all over his body came to me and tried to say something. All he managed to say was- “ Hey.. Hey…” and directed his hand towards a house at a distance and fell dead right in front of me. I think someone stabbed him with a knife. Oh man, in trying to be stupidly inquisitive, I fucked up everything.”
Vijay- “Holy shit. What else?”
Vishal- “ Nothing. I dint know how to react? So, just hurried out of that place. Now, I fear the police would put me into hardships regarding all this. All unnecessary bullshit I got into. Don’t know what the fuck made me go there.”
Vijay- “Okay, cool down.” He paused and continued- “ Okay, do as I say. Reach Chennai, and ‘check-in’ into “The CrossRoads Inn” Leave your luggage in the room and walk out into the public, maybe a restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”He paused and continued again- “ Remember, you are not the culprit. So head held high. Okay? We shall take the bull by the horns. See ya.”
Vishal- “Yeah. Thanks” they cut the call.
He continued driving at a constant 90kms/hr as the road was wide and smooth. He glanced through the rear-view mirror and his heart stopped for a second. A police ‘Qualis’ was following behind him. He hit the accelerator, as the speedometer needle rose to 110kms/hr. His heart raced along. The police car behind him, was no less, it too maintained good speeds if not it was faster than Vishal’s Ford. The Qualis swung to the right, pushed ahead and was now head on parallel to the Ford. Vishal threw a hesitant, nervous glance towards the driver, a policeman but realized that he wasn’t returning the look. Vishal released the accelerator trying to abate and the Police-Qualis moved on without cooking up any kind of a storm. Vishal exhaled deeply relieving himself. He turned ‘on’ his music player in an attempt to vanquish his fears.
In an hour, he entered the familiar, Chennai and drove with no confusion to the hotel- “The CrossRoads Inn.” He parked his car in the parking space, checked in into room number- 305. He tipped the helper who showed him to his room and locked the doors. He went in, had a shower, ate some fruits that he had carried and noticed the wall clock, which showed- 10:30 pm. He messaged Vijay over his phone to inform the room number and typed- “ Meet you at the restaurant.” As he was putting on his shoes to leave to the restaurant, he heard the ring of his ‘door-bell’ and two hard knocks on the door. He swung to the ‘switch-board’, switched off the lights and headed to the ‘peep-hole’ of the door. He peeped optimistically, but to his shock his worst fears came true. He saw three men in khakis, waiting at the door. The Policemen had arrived.
To be Continued....
Refilling petrol into his Ford, Vishal swung into a small, silent, lifeless lane. He turned on his music player and threw a glance at the dashboard clock, which said- 8pm. It was starkly dark as he drove steadily ahead in search of an entry point to get back into the highway. The road became narrower and darker as the surrounding woods got denser. He could have touched the highway by just retracing the route by which he had come from, but somewhere in his adventurous mind, he thought- “Lets explore.” But now, as he passed well through the village limits, he wondered- “ Do I need this?” He noticed a hitch in his voice and repeated loudly to himself- “ Do I need this crap? No right?”
Suddenly the head beams illuminated a large wooden sign attached to a tree, and Vishal stopped the car. He stared out of the windshield into the old, dirty, bedraggled wooden board and noticed a familiar word STOP. The rest of the sign was incomprehensive, but he could notice another similar word- DEAD END.” He observed his head beams illuminate a small metal barricade about 50 metres in front of him, which blocked the road. The road looked perfectly fine ahead, which made him contemplate as to why such a board was put up. He surveyed the glove box on the dashboard, in search of his torch. He dug out a small piece of paper, which was in it and read it with the help of the torch. It said-“ Toll fee- Rs.35.” He entwined and crushed it, threw it outside and stepped out with the torch in his hand though he had kept the car’s head lights on.
He walked tardily as the dry leaves on the road made crisp sounds as he stepped over them. He reached the barricade, scanned around the place with his torch and found nothing to apprehend the wooden sign to. ”Somethin’ fishy” he said in his mind. With feelings of ambivalence, he started his walk back to his car, covering his eyes from the glare of the car’s powerful head beams. With silence surrounding him, he could literally hear his breath and the crisp sounds of the dry leaves as the wind blew. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked- an unfriendly bark, he decided. He got closer to the car with just ten strides away from it- one… two…three…. four…five..and he froze. A human hand rested on his shoulders with blood dripping through it and a struggling male voice cried- “ Hey….Hey….”
--
--
--
His dashboard clock read 8:30 pm and his speedometer read 110 kms/hr. He was back on the highway, he screamed at himself- “fuckin speed-breakers” and jumped over one. He was sweating profusely, though the car’s air conditioning was switched on. He noticed his music player was still playing, and turned it off in a flash. A milestone read- “Chennai – 98kms.” He found another, the third ‘toll-booth’ on the highway so far and stopped to pay and then proceeded. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, luckily it could catch the network signal and he dialed his close buddy Vijay, whom he was supposed to meet in Chennai. Moreover, he had to confide in someone close to him, preferably a good crony.
Vijay- “ Hey bro..!! You are late. I’m waiting. What’s up?”
Vishal- “ Hey Vijay.” He cleared his throat and continued- “ Listen, I need to tell you something. Something dangerously important.”
Vijay- “Buddy, you sound tense. What’s wrong?”
Vishal- “ Yeah. On the way, I had to enter a small village to refill petrol after which, I headed along through the village road in search of the highway entry point, where I found a ‘dead-end’ sign. I got down to check out and man… shit” He pulled out the small water bottle from his glove box, emptied it in one go and continued- “ A person, a middle aged person, with blood stains all over his body came to me and tried to say something. All he managed to say was- “ Hey.. Hey…” and directed his hand towards a house at a distance and fell dead right in front of me. I think someone stabbed him with a knife. Oh man, in trying to be stupidly inquisitive, I fucked up everything.”
Vijay- “Holy shit. What else?”
Vishal- “ Nothing. I dint know how to react? So, just hurried out of that place. Now, I fear the police would put me into hardships regarding all this. All unnecessary bullshit I got into. Don’t know what the fuck made me go there.”
Vijay- “Okay, cool down.” He paused and continued- “ Okay, do as I say. Reach Chennai, and ‘check-in’ into “The CrossRoads Inn” Leave your luggage in the room and walk out into the public, maybe a restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”He paused and continued again- “ Remember, you are not the culprit. So head held high. Okay? We shall take the bull by the horns. See ya.”
Vishal- “Yeah. Thanks” they cut the call.
He continued driving at a constant 90kms/hr as the road was wide and smooth. He glanced through the rear-view mirror and his heart stopped for a second. A police ‘Qualis’ was following behind him. He hit the accelerator, as the speedometer needle rose to 110kms/hr. His heart raced along. The police car behind him, was no less, it too maintained good speeds if not it was faster than Vishal’s Ford. The Qualis swung to the right, pushed ahead and was now head on parallel to the Ford. Vishal threw a hesitant, nervous glance towards the driver, a policeman but realized that he wasn’t returning the look. Vishal released the accelerator trying to abate and the Police-Qualis moved on without cooking up any kind of a storm. Vishal exhaled deeply relieving himself. He turned ‘on’ his music player in an attempt to vanquish his fears.
In an hour, he entered the familiar, Chennai and drove with no confusion to the hotel- “The CrossRoads Inn.” He parked his car in the parking space, checked in into room number- 305. He tipped the helper who showed him to his room and locked the doors. He went in, had a shower, ate some fruits that he had carried and noticed the wall clock, which showed- 10:30 pm. He messaged Vijay over his phone to inform the room number and typed- “ Meet you at the restaurant.” As he was putting on his shoes to leave to the restaurant, he heard the ring of his ‘door-bell’ and two hard knocks on the door. He swung to the ‘switch-board’, switched off the lights and headed to the ‘peep-hole’ of the door. He peeped optimistically, but to his shock his worst fears came true. He saw three men in khakis, waiting at the door. The Policemen had arrived.
To be Continued....
"Dilli - 6" ........Coming soon!!!
The aroma of sizzling hot samosas, tikkis, and golgappe…
Plates full of garma-garam jalebis soaked in sugar syrup…
The sweet tinkling of glass bangles of every colour - red, yellow, green, purple, pink, orange, blue…
Dupattas of every shade fluttering in the breeze…
Idle chatter interspersed with sips of garam kulhad waali masala chai…
A century-old transistor playing Kundan Lal Saigal at the tea-stall…
Shakuntala chachi, Gul aunty, Chutki, Shabnam bhabhi exchanging spicy bits of gossip and the latest dope on saas-bahu serials…
A clutter of houses sharing walls, verandahs, patios with each other…
Suleiman bhai waiting for customers in his shop, displaying the latest sunglasses for foreigners…
Bablu, Amaan, Happy, and Pappu shouting “Howzzaaattt….” at the top of their voices - a brilliant display of gully cricket at its best…
Welcome to the heart of the city with a heart…
Presenting a mushy, crazily romantic love story set in the heart of Dilli… WL’s very own Dilli 6.
It will make you laugh… it will make you cry. It will make you want to fall in love… it will break your heart at times. It will touch a chord deep inside your heart… a place you never even thought exists.
Meet Siddharth, a quintessential NRI (non-reliable Indian), typical ABCD (American-born confused desi), returns to
Enter Suhaani, the prototypical teenager; she has blossomed from a cranky little nagging machine into a beautiful, bubbly, young girl full of life and with eyes full of dreams. Dilli is the place she was born and brought up in. To her, Dilli is home in every sense. She is the ideal daughter, sister, friend, confidante… and loves girly stuff. Her life revolves around her family, few close friends…and her dreams… Mushy novels are her companions… chocolates, her weakness… flowers light up her day… poetry, she writes beautifully… and music, her passion. Her room is pink, and so is her life… a bed of roses. She dreams every night of her prince charming swooping her into his arms, and drifts off to sleep with hope in her eyes and a smile on her face. She can’t wait for love to happen! Will it, or will it not?
Watch how love blossoms… in the heart of Siddharth… in the heart of Suhaani… in the heart of Dilli… Dilli 6!
A tribute to love… to people who have fallen in love, are in love, and want to fall in love…
Dedicated to the city with a heart… apni Dilli…
This weekend, trade movie tickets and popcorn for an emotional roller coaster ride right here, on your computer screen… Dilli 6!
- Neha and Priyanka
TERE JAANE KE BAAD....
bas do hi waqt apni zindagi me mushquil guzre ghalib..
ek tere aane se pehle...ek tere jaane k baad....
kabhi kabhi sochti hun to ajeeb lagta hai.. do anjaan log.. ajnabi duniya se.. kaise itne kareeb aa jate hain ki ek dusre ki zindagi ban jaate hain..
TERE JANE KE BAAD...
kyun toot jata hai dil..
ek lamha khushi paane ke baad..
kyun bikher jata hai sab kuch fir se..
ek baar simat jaane k baad..
kyun aa jaate hain aansoo..
har gam.. har khushi ke mausam me..
kyun ummeed ki kiran aati hai nazar..
dard se rishta jud jane k baad..
bahut socha...bahut dhoonda..
par mai na samjh paayi...
kyun ho jati hun mai udaas..
har baar...
TERE JANE KE BAAD!!
kyun toot jata hai dil..
ek lamha khushi paane ke baad..
kyun bikher jata hai sab kuch fir se..
ek baar simat jaane k baad..
kyun aa jaate hain aansoo..
har gam.. har khushi ke mausam me..
kyun ummeed ki kiran aati hai nazar..
dard se rishta jud jane k baad..
bahut socha...bahut dhoonda..
par mai na samjh paayi...
kyun ho jati hun mai udaas..
har baar...
TERE JANE KE BAAD!!
February 26, 2009
Humanity
Heart beating in there somewhere.
Understanding the pain of another
Man, woman or child.
Alive or dead, cares like there's
Nothing to lose.
Is it, itself lost in
Time? Maybe. Unless,
You and me keep it alive within us.
I love you, Prats for introducing this ! I am waiting for more of such new experiments!
The legend of Sandeep Malan: Back with a bang: 1
(Continued from where The legend of Sandeep Malan had been temporarily discontinued.)
Richa also came to know of Sandeep Malan’s plan to go to Amerigaa. She was heartbroken. She could not live without him. She dialed his number. He was still dancing with joy in his room when his phone rang “Yeh to bata, dekhta hai tu kahan.” “Phone adicha ringu, indha Sandeep adicha sangu,” (If the phone rings, it is a ringtone, if this Sandeep rings, it is the death knell) he roared like a lion in anger at being disturbed. He picked up his phone in typical Rajini style (which had become an intrinsic part of him by now). His face suddenly turned pale like that of a terrified mouse. “Ayyo… why is Richa calling me now?” He was afraid that she would emotionally blackmail him into abandoning his plans and staying back. He was hell bent upon going to Amerigaa and was sure that his vada pav plan would succeed. He rejected the call and switched off the phone. He went back to dancing to the Rajini song “Thii Thii, jagajothi jothi…”
Richa didn’t have any option. Sandeep Malan, true to his Casanova image, had rejected her call outright. Her friends had warned her of his character, but she didn’t listen. She listened to her heart instead. But now, enough was enough. The radio in her room was on and played a song “Kitne door door ho, un dono ke raaste, mil jaate hain jo bane, ek duje ke vaaste..” She and Sandeep Malan were meant to be. She then decided to go to Trichur to speak to him and dissuade him from going to Amerigaa.
Next morning, Sandeep Malan was snoring away in his room. It was 11 in the morning. When one is out of a job, sleep takes over and becomes the favorite way to pass time. Sandeep Malan also was in such a situation. However, suddenly, he felt someone trying to wake him up. “Anna… Anna… some girl has come to see you.” It was Sandhika. Sandeep was very angry at being rudely woken up from his beauty sleep. But when Sandhika said some girl had come, the Casanova within him felt elated. “I am becoming popular among Kerala girls also…” he thought to himself and started picturing himself with many beautiful girls dressed like apsaras dancing around him and himself, dressed as Krishna with a flute, standing on a lotus in the center of a pond. “Anna… come…” said Sandhika. Sandeep went into the living room and got the shock of his life… it was Richa. Without a thought, Sandeep rushed into the kitchen to check if his mother was around. “Amma has gone to buy chicken for your favorite stew,” Sandhika informed him. Sandeep Malan heaved a sigh of relief. Sandeep then took Richa to the garden nearby.
Poor Richa had been crying all the way. Her face was swollen like a red tomato. “Sandeep, please don’t go to Amerigaa. You can do your vada pav business here, in India also. Don’t leave me and go. I love you. I want to marry you,” she said. “Nee virumburavalai kattikiruthai vida unnai virumburavalai kattikitta, un vazhkkai santhoshama irrukkum” (Rather than marrying a person whom you love, marry a person who loves you; only then your life will be happy) Sandeep delivered a famous Rajini dialogue. Richa was puzzled. She didn’t understand a word. She was saying something so serious and Sandeep was muttering some funny words! How dare he make fun of her feelings like that? She got very angry. “Phatttttt,” she slapped him hard. Now Sandeep’s cheek also turned red like a tomato. “Listen Richa, I have many dreams. I want to make it big in Amerigaa. You want to marry me and hold me back. You are angry at me because I am going to Amerigaa. Athigama asaipadara am balaiyum, adhigama kopapadara pom balaiyum nalla vazhndhadha sarithiram illai. (A very ambitious man and a very angry girl cannot lead a happy life together)” Another Rajini dialogue. “Ayyo, what have I done!!!” Sandeep realized after these words had slipped out of his mouth. He couldn’t bear another slap, so he covered his cheeks with his hands. This was getting too much for Richa. She walked away in a huff. Sandeep stood there, flabbergasted.
Meanwhile, he heard some claps in the background. He was alarmed at seeing two college kids approaching him, applauding. “Super super saar…” they said. Sandeep didn’t understand a thing. “Super dialogues saar, just like Rajini saar…” they said. Then it dawned upon Sandeep. His chest swelled with pride. “En vazhi, thani vazhi…(my way is a different way…)” he muttered out another of Rajini’s famous dialogues. The two boys were floored by this. They were also die-hard Rajini fans like Sandeep. “Saar, you are brilliant. Will you teach us also? We also want to be like Rajini. He is God for us,” they said. Suddenly, the bulb inside Sandeep’s head lit up. He smiled. There was a sparkle in his eyes. He gave them his phone number and told them to call him the next day. Then he ran towards home as if there was a lizard in his pants!!
His mother was making his favorite stew in the kitchen. “Sandhika, ivade vaa, (Sandhika, come here)” he called out authoritatively. “Mone, naan nineku vendi ninde favorite stew indakku aana (See little boy, I am making your favorite stew for you)” his mother said lovingly. Sandhika came running. “Amma, Sandhu, naan Amerigaa ponillya… (Mother, Sandhu, I am not going to Amerigaa)” he announced. His mother and sister stood there, speechless. His mother thought he had gone mad because of the sorrow and shock of losing his job. She went back to making stew.
Sandeep walked into the living room followed by Sandhika. “Anna, what happened suddenly? Is it because of the girl?” Sandhika was curious. “Illa…” Sandeep replied, “I am going to start my own business here only.” “Vada pav aa? Anna, everyone likes iddiyappam, idli and dosai here. Who will buy your vada pav?” she said matter-of-factly. “Ayyo… think beyond iddiyappams, kutty. I have decided to start my own acting school here,” he announced. “But anna, what about your other plans?” she was at a loss for words. Now Sandeep was getting irritated with her because she was opposing him. In typical Rajini style, he said “Naan solrathaiyum seiven, sollathathiyum seiven. Nethu naan coolie. Inniku naan nadigan. Naalaikku... Silaper solranga naan eppadi varuven appadi varuven...naan eppadi varuvennu andavanukkum mattum thaan theriyum.” (I do what I say. I also do what I don’t say. Yesterday I was a coolie. Today I am an actor. Tomorrow, who knows? Some say I come like this, some say I come like that. How I will come only God knows.) And then, he bowed down expecting an applause. Sandhika was too shocked to react. He tried to shake her back to reality, but couldn’t. Giving up, he walked away to his room to plan out his new venture.
“Sandeep Sir’s acting school… what a brilliant idea!” he said to himself. He imagined himself teaching acting to starry-eyed youngsters. He would then become so popular that even Rajini himself would come down to his acting school to meet him—Sandeep, the great! He was so excited about his plan that he decided to advertise (after all he was an MBA in marketing)!! So, he went to the store room at the back of his house to look for paint. There was some in an old tin, left over from Pongal, when Roja and Lingu’s horns had been painted (Roja, Sandeep’s darling cow and Lingu, Sandeep’s snorting pet bull). Then, he ran on to the roads like he was running the Mumbai Marathon, found some empty space on a wall, and painted this.
Glossary:
Ayyo: Tamil interjection
Thii thii jagajothi jothi: Famous song from a Rajini movie
Anna: elder bro
Apsara: Indian fairy
Amma: Mother
Saar: Kerala way of saying Sir
Illa: no
Idiyappam, idli, and dosai: South Indian snack items
Kutty: Oh little one
Pongal: harvest festival
Richa also came to know of Sandeep Malan’s plan to go to Amerigaa. She was heartbroken. She could not live without him. She dialed his number. He was still dancing with joy in his room when his phone rang “Yeh to bata, dekhta hai tu kahan.” “Phone adicha ringu, indha Sandeep adicha sangu,” (If the phone rings, it is a ringtone, if this Sandeep rings, it is the death knell) he roared like a lion in anger at being disturbed. He picked up his phone in typical Rajini style (which had become an intrinsic part of him by now). His face suddenly turned pale like that of a terrified mouse. “Ayyo… why is Richa calling me now?” He was afraid that she would emotionally blackmail him into abandoning his plans and staying back. He was hell bent upon going to Amerigaa and was sure that his vada pav plan would succeed. He rejected the call and switched off the phone. He went back to dancing to the Rajini song “Thii Thii, jagajothi jothi…”
Richa didn’t have any option. Sandeep Malan, true to his Casanova image, had rejected her call outright. Her friends had warned her of his character, but she didn’t listen. She listened to her heart instead. But now, enough was enough. The radio in her room was on and played a song “Kitne door door ho, un dono ke raaste, mil jaate hain jo bane, ek duje ke vaaste..” She and Sandeep Malan were meant to be. She then decided to go to Trichur to speak to him and dissuade him from going to Amerigaa.
Next morning, Sandeep Malan was snoring away in his room. It was 11 in the morning. When one is out of a job, sleep takes over and becomes the favorite way to pass time. Sandeep Malan also was in such a situation. However, suddenly, he felt someone trying to wake him up. “Anna… Anna… some girl has come to see you.” It was Sandhika. Sandeep was very angry at being rudely woken up from his beauty sleep. But when Sandhika said some girl had come, the Casanova within him felt elated. “I am becoming popular among Kerala girls also…” he thought to himself and started picturing himself with many beautiful girls dressed like apsaras dancing around him and himself, dressed as Krishna with a flute, standing on a lotus in the center of a pond. “Anna… come…” said Sandhika. Sandeep went into the living room and got the shock of his life… it was Richa. Without a thought, Sandeep rushed into the kitchen to check if his mother was around. “Amma has gone to buy chicken for your favorite stew,” Sandhika informed him. Sandeep Malan heaved a sigh of relief. Sandeep then took Richa to the garden nearby.
Poor Richa had been crying all the way. Her face was swollen like a red tomato. “Sandeep, please don’t go to Amerigaa. You can do your vada pav business here, in India also. Don’t leave me and go. I love you. I want to marry you,” she said. “Nee virumburavalai kattikiruthai vida unnai virumburavalai kattikitta, un vazhkkai santhoshama irrukkum” (Rather than marrying a person whom you love, marry a person who loves you; only then your life will be happy) Sandeep delivered a famous Rajini dialogue. Richa was puzzled. She didn’t understand a word. She was saying something so serious and Sandeep was muttering some funny words! How dare he make fun of her feelings like that? She got very angry. “Phatttttt,” she slapped him hard. Now Sandeep’s cheek also turned red like a tomato. “Listen Richa, I have many dreams. I want to make it big in Amerigaa. You want to marry me and hold me back. You are angry at me because I am going to Amerigaa. Athigama asaipadara am balaiyum, adhigama kopapadara pom balaiyum nalla vazhndhadha sarithiram illai. (A very ambitious man and a very angry girl cannot lead a happy life together)” Another Rajini dialogue. “Ayyo, what have I done!!!” Sandeep realized after these words had slipped out of his mouth. He couldn’t bear another slap, so he covered his cheeks with his hands. This was getting too much for Richa. She walked away in a huff. Sandeep stood there, flabbergasted.
Meanwhile, he heard some claps in the background. He was alarmed at seeing two college kids approaching him, applauding. “Super super saar…” they said. Sandeep didn’t understand a thing. “Super dialogues saar, just like Rajini saar…” they said. Then it dawned upon Sandeep. His chest swelled with pride. “En vazhi, thani vazhi…(my way is a different way…)” he muttered out another of Rajini’s famous dialogues. The two boys were floored by this. They were also die-hard Rajini fans like Sandeep. “Saar, you are brilliant. Will you teach us also? We also want to be like Rajini. He is God for us,” they said. Suddenly, the bulb inside Sandeep’s head lit up. He smiled. There was a sparkle in his eyes. He gave them his phone number and told them to call him the next day. Then he ran towards home as if there was a lizard in his pants!!
His mother was making his favorite stew in the kitchen. “Sandhika, ivade vaa, (Sandhika, come here)” he called out authoritatively. “Mone, naan nineku vendi ninde favorite stew indakku aana (See little boy, I am making your favorite stew for you)” his mother said lovingly. Sandhika came running. “Amma, Sandhu, naan Amerigaa ponillya… (Mother, Sandhu, I am not going to Amerigaa)” he announced. His mother and sister stood there, speechless. His mother thought he had gone mad because of the sorrow and shock of losing his job. She went back to making stew.
Sandeep walked into the living room followed by Sandhika. “Anna, what happened suddenly? Is it because of the girl?” Sandhika was curious. “Illa…” Sandeep replied, “I am going to start my own business here only.” “Vada pav aa? Anna, everyone likes iddiyappam, idli and dosai here. Who will buy your vada pav?” she said matter-of-factly. “Ayyo… think beyond iddiyappams, kutty. I have decided to start my own acting school here,” he announced. “But anna, what about your other plans?” she was at a loss for words. Now Sandeep was getting irritated with her because she was opposing him. In typical Rajini style, he said “Naan solrathaiyum seiven, sollathathiyum seiven. Nethu naan coolie. Inniku naan nadigan. Naalaikku... Silaper solranga naan eppadi varuven appadi varuven...naan eppadi varuvennu andavanukkum mattum thaan theriyum.” (I do what I say. I also do what I don’t say. Yesterday I was a coolie. Today I am an actor. Tomorrow, who knows? Some say I come like this, some say I come like that. How I will come only God knows.) And then, he bowed down expecting an applause. Sandhika was too shocked to react. He tried to shake her back to reality, but couldn’t. Giving up, he walked away to his room to plan out his new venture.
“Sandeep Sir’s acting school… what a brilliant idea!” he said to himself. He imagined himself teaching acting to starry-eyed youngsters. He would then become so popular that even Rajini himself would come down to his acting school to meet him—Sandeep, the great! He was so excited about his plan that he decided to advertise (after all he was an MBA in marketing)!! So, he went to the store room at the back of his house to look for paint. There was some in an old tin, left over from Pongal, when Roja and Lingu’s horns had been painted (Roja, Sandeep’s darling cow and Lingu, Sandeep’s snorting pet bull). Then, he ran on to the roads like he was running the Mumbai Marathon, found some empty space on a wall, and painted this.
Sandeep was in his own world of dreams. Little did he know what actually was in store for him.
Watch out for his play: Nawab Sultan. More to come!!!
Glossary:
Ayyo: Tamil interjection
Thii thii jagajothi jothi: Famous song from a Rajini movie
Anna: elder bro
Apsara: Indian fairy
Amma: Mother
Saar: Kerala way of saying Sir
Illa: no
Idiyappam, idli, and dosai: South Indian snack items
Kutty: Oh little one
Pongal: harvest festival
Last Words!!!
Pre Script: Last Post!
Its dark all around,
Inspite of the blinding light,
I grope in the obsurity,
My heart thudding with fright!
I cannot come to terms,
With the fact that you are gone,
That you just don't love me,
Pricks in my heart like a thorn!
My joy knew no bounds,
When I thought you could be mine,
Foolish chimeras, I now know,
Castles of dreams, destroyed in a line!
I tread around in the rubble,
Hurt, bleeding from gashes deep,
But I ignore the ache in my heart,
Because I have a promise to keep!
I gave you my love, my life,
Thinking, it was all you could want,
Obtuse thoughts, I know they were,
Entangle you further with me, I can't!
I know you deserve better,
It was never gonna be me,
I just thought..........,
I just wish it could be!
I wanted you to win your battles,
Fight your demons, I wanted you to,
I just wished to be there for you,
To nurse your wounds, to heal you through!
Looking up at the azure sky,
I let you go today,
Set you free into the cirrus clouds,
Hoping you are happy this way!
My words were my life,
Etch them with my blood, I did,
But I am running out of it,
Some drying up inside me, some pooling at my feet!
Even in these final moments,
Hope, lurks in the depths of my soul,
That one day you would love me,
The belief, is enough to let my eyes close!
As I struggle to scratch these last words out,
My words fading with every stroke, with every ragged breath,
I want you to just know, to believe,
That in my dying heart you'll always remain........!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I request the lounge admins to kindly delete my account from here. The small time that I have spent here has been the most memorable one. I have found people here who cared more for me, than my closest friends! And also much more! I cannot express in words how much i appreciate your friendship and your care! That you gave me an opportunity to put my work on display here and improve myself is something I will never forget! Thank you! Goodbye and Godbless! :)
Acrostic Poetry
My first attempt at Acrostic poetry.
But First things first,
I would like to extend my heartfelt gratitude towards Prats,for inspiring all of us to tickle our grey cells and come out with something different.
MEMORIES
Mistifying reminiscences,rendering
eternally blissful ruminations and,
momentary lapse into nostalgia
Oh! I treasure them so fondly,
roller coaster rides of
inspiring moments and,
euphoric emotions, cradled in the
sea of eternity.
But First things first,
I would like to extend my heartfelt gratitude towards Prats,for inspiring all of us to tickle our grey cells and come out with something different.
MEMORIES
Mistifying reminiscences,rendering
eternally blissful ruminations and,
momentary lapse into nostalgia
Oh! I treasure them so fondly,
roller coaster rides of
inspiring moments and,
euphoric emotions, cradled in the
sea of eternity.
Her Mausam Mera Apna Hai
Chahae rishton ki hararat hu
Ya dukh ki dhoob jala daley
mere dil ki khali nagri ko
Kuch aur adhura ker daley
Her mausam mera apna hai
Mere ankhon ko pur num kare
Ya rooh ko pyasa ker daley
mere sab jugnu ura de
Ya mere sang andhera ker daley
Her mausam mera apna hai
Munjhe yadon ki saughat jo dae
Ya man ko khali ke daley
Mere jeevan ki her daali ko
Her sukh se aari ker daley
Her mausam mera apna hai
Mujhe lafzon ko zuban de
Ya mere qalam ko aajiz ker daley
mujhe khud main tankha ker de
Ya mere sang mahafil ker daley
Her mausam mera Apna hai
Acrostic Poem
3 Acrostic poems in one! I'm bored studying :( My time table is out too and it sucks!
SORRY
Senseless and crazy, I was
Of all the things, I didn't
Realise what I was letting go.
Remember each day, I still do.
You still do linger in every heart beat.
HOPE
Happy times will surely come.
One day or another, I'm sure.
Pieces missing of this giant jigsaw
Each will come together, I'm sure.
PSYCHOLOGY (My love-hate relationship)
Patience of listening to
Series of problems that
You may have. Helping
Change be integrated. And
Hope be instilled
Of better times to come.
Love yourself before anyone else.
Offer the best you have
Give a fair chance to
Yourself. I'm here to just help.
The Fog
“You will fly away in an hour. I will miss you Mr. Goluraam. You really have to go? Can’t you stay back?”
“It’s not that I don’t wish to, my sweety pie BhonduKali. But I have no choice”
“One year!! My Golu will be away from me for a whole year. Don’t go sweety! Please stay back naa. I can’t even imagine one whole year without you daa”
“Bhondu my love….You think I won’t miss you. I would, every second. Just think of it as a test before we start our lives together.”
“Golu. I am not that strong dear. You know that. And I don’t want to give any tests. Not at the expense of staying away from you. I can’t refrain myself from making a call to you every now and then for silly things. And here you are, going away for one whole year! Please don’t go!”
“Who said I am going away my Bhondu? I am right here. With you… In your thoughts... In your dreams”
“I can’t survive on just thoughts and dreams of my Golu. I simply can’t. You complete me. In every sense. Without you, I am like a body without a soul. You will find more beautiful girls than me there in States. One year is long enough for you to forget all about my existence. I will lose you. Please don’t go”
“Who said your soul is leaving you jaan? Can you come outside and look towards the sky from your balcony?”
“From my balcony? At this hour of the night? Have you gone nuts? Why do you want me to do that? It’s freezing outside”
“Do as I say Bhondu jaan? For me. Please. And I promise you won’t feel the cold. Mr. Golu da promise”
“I am here. Now what? It’s really foggy out here today. I can barely see the stars even. The moon is playing hide and seek as well”
“I know. Life is like that fog you see right now Bhondu. Acting as a veil between the stars and their admirers. You are the star jaan. And I am your admirer. I wish to see you sparkling and shining every moment. I want to bathe in your shine. And you shine brighter for your admirer. Blushing at all the attention and love you are being showered with from down here. And then all of a sudden, the fog comes in between us. That’s life playing its games. Everything else remains the same. It’s just the fog in between both of us. A temporary blindness. A state where the star is unsure about whether its admirer is still watching from down there and vice versa. It’s when the star will continue to shine brightly and sparkle hoping and wishing not to let her admirer down, if the fog lifts any moment, when we can say that their relationship has really matured. It’s about the feeling the star has that it has someone watching it from down below. It’s about the feeling the admirer has that he will catch his star twinkling brightly for him the moment this fog lifts. This feeling is called hope. This feeling is called desire to be one. This feeling is called love. Wait for the fog to lift. If our relationship was strong, if we were really meant to be, you would continue to twinkle brightly for me when this fog will lift after a year. And you will find me admiring your beauty and shine right here. Then we would have passed the test. Time will teach you to be strong jaan. Everything will be fine. Trust me”
“Goluuuuuu…I love you……muah”
“I love you too….See…the fog is already allowing you sneak peeks…he he…oooops…they have announced the boarding for my flight. I will miss you my star. Love you loads”
## I blaag at: yeM Bee yAe
“It’s not that I don’t wish to, my sweety pie BhonduKali. But I have no choice”
“One year!! My Golu will be away from me for a whole year. Don’t go sweety! Please stay back naa. I can’t even imagine one whole year without you daa”
“Bhondu my love….You think I won’t miss you. I would, every second. Just think of it as a test before we start our lives together.”
“Golu. I am not that strong dear. You know that. And I don’t want to give any tests. Not at the expense of staying away from you. I can’t refrain myself from making a call to you every now and then for silly things. And here you are, going away for one whole year! Please don’t go!”
“Who said I am going away my Bhondu? I am right here. With you… In your thoughts... In your dreams”
“I can’t survive on just thoughts and dreams of my Golu. I simply can’t. You complete me. In every sense. Without you, I am like a body without a soul. You will find more beautiful girls than me there in States. One year is long enough for you to forget all about my existence. I will lose you. Please don’t go”
“Who said your soul is leaving you jaan? Can you come outside and look towards the sky from your balcony?”
“From my balcony? At this hour of the night? Have you gone nuts? Why do you want me to do that? It’s freezing outside”
“Do as I say Bhondu jaan? For me. Please. And I promise you won’t feel the cold. Mr. Golu da promise”
“I am here. Now what? It’s really foggy out here today. I can barely see the stars even. The moon is playing hide and seek as well”
“I know. Life is like that fog you see right now Bhondu. Acting as a veil between the stars and their admirers. You are the star jaan. And I am your admirer. I wish to see you sparkling and shining every moment. I want to bathe in your shine. And you shine brighter for your admirer. Blushing at all the attention and love you are being showered with from down here. And then all of a sudden, the fog comes in between us. That’s life playing its games. Everything else remains the same. It’s just the fog in between both of us. A temporary blindness. A state where the star is unsure about whether its admirer is still watching from down there and vice versa. It’s when the star will continue to shine brightly and sparkle hoping and wishing not to let her admirer down, if the fog lifts any moment, when we can say that their relationship has really matured. It’s about the feeling the star has that it has someone watching it from down below. It’s about the feeling the admirer has that he will catch his star twinkling brightly for him the moment this fog lifts. This feeling is called hope. This feeling is called desire to be one. This feeling is called love. Wait for the fog to lift. If our relationship was strong, if we were really meant to be, you would continue to twinkle brightly for me when this fog will lift after a year. And you will find me admiring your beauty and shine right here. Then we would have passed the test. Time will teach you to be strong jaan. Everything will be fine. Trust me”
“Goluuuuuu…I love you……muah”
“I love you too….See…the fog is already allowing you sneak peeks…he he…oooops…they have announced the boarding for my flight. I will miss you my star. Love you loads”
## I blaag at: yeM Bee yAe
Love...
Leaves a smile on your faceOr a tear in your eye
Very difficult to know, to confess, and to abide by, still
Enticing to fall into!
My attempt at acrostic poetry! Wrote it on an impulse... waiting for comments! :)
February 25, 2009
Khail ! (The Game)
KHAIL!Zara ao!
Shuru kardain,
Phir se khail wo apna,
Jahan se chor bethay thay,
Chalo ao!
Gondhain ge zara phir,
Is nazuk si mitti ko,
banain ge naye se ghar,
samo ke khuwab kuch alhar,
Bicha ke farsh par ansoo,
Bunyaad uski khushi rakh kar,
Daman main hansi bhar kar,
Bana kar khoob khelain ge,
Magar jab soraj chupnay ki,
Zid pakar le phr,
Tum bhi ghar laut jald ana,
K ye ghar bhi to tumhara hai,
Tum apnay khuwab dedena,
Us pyase dariya ko behtay samandar ko,
Wo kahan warna payega,
Inhain rukhsat karke ana tum,
K yahan kiya kam hai inka,
Yahan mumkin naheen hai k,
Wo kuch pal bhi zara jee lain,
Or tum to nazuk si larki ho,
Kahan mumkin hai ke seh jao,
Inko daikh k marta,
Chalo choro,
Zara ao!
Chalain hum tm zara khailain,
Phr se khail wo apna!
Miss you
More i think of you
I miss you even more.
Sadness fills my heart as
Some memories fly past.
You miss me too some time
Oh ! will it ever be true
Untill my next lifetime?
Acrostic Poems and me
Subhas Chandra Bose
Singing patriotically,and
Uniting for a cause, screwing the
Badness of the Raj
Head held high, inspiring the
Affluent ,the poor and all
Seeking a vision thought so far,and
Catching the imagination of all
Heroic was his life and ways
And not just in war,with due respect
Netaji did we call, the bravest of all,ever
Dearer to our heart, will be
Revered ever for
Aeon's to come. not the one, to be
Beleaguered,undeterred by mounting odds
Offered a ray of hope for us all
Surprising the Britishers most of all
Enigmatic was he in life as death!
INDIA
Inspiring all time,with
Never ending wisdom.
Dearest of our hearts
Immensely impeccable,for
Aeon's to come.
Never ending wisdom.
Dearest of our hearts
Immensely impeccable,for
Aeon's to come.
~ kings`CmU
BETWEEN U & ME..
if asked to define life...people on this network will come up with their own perceptions and point of views.. strange isn't it....well but for me life will always remain a collection of beautiful memories...
the one i am sharing out here is in fact in itself a huge one....
here it goes...
'BETWEEN U & ME'
it takes time to know someone...
not the big things...
but the little things we need to know....u have always been there by me....
u showed how to walk without your hand...
the world is moving faster now..
we are changing course...
but u helped me to deal in life...
that is what will remain with me forever...
the time u and me were together....
it will always be...
BETWEEN U & ME...
The Writers' Lounge Film Quiz #2
THIS QUIZ WILL CLOSE ON 04/03/2009
Hello everyone!
Thanks for the excellent response to last week's film quiz! The winners list is at the bottom of this post.
Please make sure that you use only the link provided to submit your answers for this week's quiz and NOT the comments box.
Your comments/suggestions are very welcome :)
Good luck!
Your quiz master,
LINK TO SUBMIT ANSWERS (Please open link in a new tab/window)
THE QUIZ |
Question 1: Which is the only Aamir Khan film that was inspired by Mario Puzo's The Godfather?
Question 2:
The following questions are related to K. Asif's epic Mughal-E-Azam:
(a) Which living legend was the initial choice to play Young Saleem?
(older Saleem was essayed by Dilip Kumar).
(b) Which actress was initially cast as Anarkali? (later played by Madhubala)
Question 3:
Identify the film from the following characters:
Kaveri Amma
Chikku
Gitlee
Question 4: Amol Palekar's critically acclaimed film, Paheli, is based on which short story?
Question 5: John Abraham starrer Zinda is allegedly plagiarised from which Korean film?
Question 6: Identify the film from the picture below:
LINK TO SUBMIT ANSWERS (Please open link in a new tab/window)
1) Beauty and the Beast
2) Battle of Thermopylae
3) Pehla Nasha
4) Schindler's List
And the winners are!
The Moment
"Ishitaaaaaaa...Ohhh My goddddd!! You here???...at this hour!! How??” Rahul was rubbing his eyes in amazement. He could not get himself to believe that Ishita was here at his place at this unearthly hour. But Ishita had always been like that. Crazy to the core. And this was not the first time that Ishita had climbed up all the way to his room on the first floor. She had earlier surprised him on Valentine’s Day last year. She knew very well that Rahul slept with his balcony door wide open. He could not get himself to sleep without feeling the whiff of fresh air that the open door and windows brought in. He always knew that Ishita was a crazy girl, but her daredevil stunt on last Valentine’s Day had wiped away any iota of doubt he had in his mind. But that was last year. It seemed like ages ago. Things had not worked out the way they wanted to. It was a mutual decision to move on. The fact that Ishita's dad got transferred to Mumbai also didn’t help much.
"Ishita.....Oh my bhondu!! Ishitaaaaa...Ishitaaa...I can't believe you are here. I thought we would never meet again. I have been missing you like crazy" Rahul's voice was choking with emotions. He had got over their break up with much difficulty. How could he forget all that suffering he went through just at the sight of his long lost love? He tried to control himself. The twinkle of love in his eyes vanished. He stared hard at Ishita, "You never even bothered to call me up even once in all these months. I could not because no one here knew of your whereabouts. But at least you could have called me up. I have been pestering your best friend Roop all this while to get your contact details. She was adamant. And here you are.....turning up on my balcony without notice...just like that...and you feel that I will still be waiting for you here with arms wide open? Go away bhondu...sorry...Ishita...I wish not to go through the pains of parting all over again."
Rahul felt that Ishita wanted to say something, but the volley of words from Rahul's side had made her stop in her motions. She just looked at him lovingly and gave him her dimpled smile. He had prayed all these months for this moment. This one fleeting moment which he had thought would never come again in his life. His last wish had been to see her flash her dimples for him, for one last time. The moment that he wished to frame in his mind and take it along with him right to his grave. But life does not always turn out the way you wish it to. When you feel that everything is going fine, it transforms itself into an unknown entity. Rahul felt his heart melt when he saw Ishita turn and walk away. He could not see her depart like that. He tossed around in bed and buried his face in the pillows. He cried his heart out. It had taken every bit of his inner strength to show Ishita the door.
Why had Ishita turned up all of a sudden today? She was here for a reason. She wanted to say something. What could be it? It was then that realization dawned on him. It was 25th Feb today!! Their anniversary! Ishita had remembered. She had come down all the way to patch up. His face lit up. All the hatred that had accumulated over the past many months faded away. He cursed himself for being rude to Ishita. He ran towards the balcony to catch her on her way down. She was nowhere in sight. Rahul rushed to his table and grabbed his bike keys. His phone rang that very instant.
"Hello...Rahul. Hi, Roop here. Hope i did not disturb you at this hour?"
"Rooop...No yaar...have you gone mad?? And i know what you have called for. I knew she would have reached your place by now. Hand over the phone to Ishita...right now...I scolded her a lot yar...Plz hand over!"
"Rahul....It's your anniversary today......right Rahul? Ishita had waited....waited for this day to patch things up with you. I think you should know this. She always missed you..........God! Give me strength to say this.....She is no longer with us Rahul.....She met with an accident on her way to my place from the airport last night. She.......passed away...She....left all of us....half an hour ago"
## My Blaaaaaaaaag: yeM Bee yAe
"Ishita.....Oh my bhondu!! Ishitaaaaa...Ishitaaa...I can't believe you are here. I thought we would never meet again. I have been missing you like crazy" Rahul's voice was choking with emotions. He had got over their break up with much difficulty. How could he forget all that suffering he went through just at the sight of his long lost love? He tried to control himself. The twinkle of love in his eyes vanished. He stared hard at Ishita, "You never even bothered to call me up even once in all these months. I could not because no one here knew of your whereabouts. But at least you could have called me up. I have been pestering your best friend Roop all this while to get your contact details. She was adamant. And here you are.....turning up on my balcony without notice...just like that...and you feel that I will still be waiting for you here with arms wide open? Go away bhondu...sorry...Ishita...I wish not to go through the pains of parting all over again."
Rahul felt that Ishita wanted to say something, but the volley of words from Rahul's side had made her stop in her motions. She just looked at him lovingly and gave him her dimpled smile. He had prayed all these months for this moment. This one fleeting moment which he had thought would never come again in his life. His last wish had been to see her flash her dimples for him, for one last time. The moment that he wished to frame in his mind and take it along with him right to his grave. But life does not always turn out the way you wish it to. When you feel that everything is going fine, it transforms itself into an unknown entity. Rahul felt his heart melt when he saw Ishita turn and walk away. He could not see her depart like that. He tossed around in bed and buried his face in the pillows. He cried his heart out. It had taken every bit of his inner strength to show Ishita the door.
Why had Ishita turned up all of a sudden today? She was here for a reason. She wanted to say something. What could be it? It was then that realization dawned on him. It was 25th Feb today!! Their anniversary! Ishita had remembered. She had come down all the way to patch up. His face lit up. All the hatred that had accumulated over the past many months faded away. He cursed himself for being rude to Ishita. He ran towards the balcony to catch her on her way down. She was nowhere in sight. Rahul rushed to his table and grabbed his bike keys. His phone rang that very instant.
"Hello...Rahul. Hi, Roop here. Hope i did not disturb you at this hour?"
"Rooop...No yaar...have you gone mad?? And i know what you have called for. I knew she would have reached your place by now. Hand over the phone to Ishita...right now...I scolded her a lot yar...Plz hand over!"
"Rahul....It's your anniversary today......right Rahul? Ishita had waited....waited for this day to patch things up with you. I think you should know this. She always missed you..........God! Give me strength to say this.....She is no longer with us Rahul.....She met with an accident on her way to my place from the airport last night. She.......passed away...She....left all of us....half an hour ago"
## My Blaaaaaaaaag: yeM Bee yAe
February 24, 2009
Rishta..
Haqiqat kia thi meray liye ab zarorri naheen tha. Main ik aise tilsm main thi jahan se laut kar ana meray bas main naheen tha. Na main ishq janti thi na he "sihq ke ain" se waqif thi main to bas wajood se agha thi. Main jitna usssay janti thi yun mehsoos hota tha jaise kisi dosray ko na pehchanti hon. Ik ajeeb si kashish si thi uske wajood main meray liye, Main khud bakhud uski taraf na chahtay hoay bhi khinchi khinchi jati thi. Is yaqeen ke saath jee rahi thi uske khuwabon main ke nasirf main ussay janti hon, chahti hon woi bhi mujhe janta hai, chahta ha. Mujhe mujh se behtar janta hai magar Ishq ke ain se wapsi ka safar mujhe tee'h karna he para kiun ke uski nazar-e-karam ab kisi aur taraf maa'il hochuki thi. Mera irada ussay roknay ka tha. Main chahti thi ke wo tehr jaye, ruk jaye sambhal jaye. Mujhe lagta tha ke wo meray hisar se kabhi nikalna naheen chahay ga, main sab theek karlongi chutki bajatay he magar ussay ghutan mehsoos hoti thi. Meri mohabbat ka hisar us par tang hogaya tha.. Taluq bas totnay ko tha k... Mujhe ye karna par ;
Wo aya tha mere pass,
mjhe bs ye btanay ko,
ke taluq totnay ko hai,
k uski manzil badal gai hai,
ab k zarorat kisi or ki hai,
so rastay hoay ab juda hamary,
humsafri apni khatam hoi hai,
na roka main ne na usko toka,
us liye par chala main us ja,
jahan se 'Main' 'Wo' HUM banay thay,
wo hairan sa samnay khara oa tha,
ke mor ke rukh,
dosri simt ko barh gaya main,
na phr ruka main na palat k dikha,
wo taluq k totnay ka btanay wala,
shayd mjhe ab bi bula raha tha,
magar main ja chuka tha,
'Taluq k totnay ko bacha chuka tha'!
This not very fine from myside but please accept this
Acrostic - My Try.
NOSTALGIA
Not very far away,
Over the cliff right next to the sea,
Stays the moments I've once lived.
Trapped in the cages of centuries,
Amalgamating the joys and grieves, they
Languish at the passage of time, yet
Glimmer sometime in my glimpse,
In moments of nostalgia,
And then the flicker is lost. Forever.
My past.
My life.
The moments I have once lived.
Unedited. First Draft. Please Rip it apart..
Aaa Rahi hai Thaaai....... Priyanka Thaaaiiiiiii !!!!!! - coming soon
" To Mess is human ,
to clean is Priyanka Thaii"
Roaming across the streets of Delhi ,finally she arives in Mumbai with little hopes .Its the hope that every desi Indian possesses. Its the hope of every desi kid of our country. To eat well and sleep well is what she wants. During this period of time ,she joins as a maid in a kaamwali's house in Delhi. She is the first woman to work as a kaamwali in a kaamwali's house. Bechari ,kya karegi voh.....Paapi pet ka sawaal hai ..
Aa rahi hai Priyanka Thaai......
Got any cleaning work at home,
got any clothes to be washed,
got any painting job to be done at home.
got any clothes to be washed,
got any painting job to be done at home.
Don't worry your just one phone call away.Priyanka Thaii offers a wide variety of services. Don't worry she will also take care of your childrens and teach them as our very own Thaii has done her MBA in finance . She would charge just 400 Rs for all types of cleaning work.
Coming soon.....
Coming soon.....
Priyanka Thaaiii ....Zindabaad!!!...
Kaahi kaam aahe tari sanga mala.. Priyanka Thaii ithez aahe.
(Got any work,then buzz me ..Priyanka Thaii is here for you )
Kaahi kaam aahe tari sanga mala.. Priyanka Thaii ithez aahe.
(Got any work,then buzz me ..Priyanka Thaii is here for you )
Advanced booking starts from today . Special reservations for Writers Lounge members. Priyanka Thaai is here to clean your house.
**To get Exclusive pictures of our very own Priyanka Thaii... sms StepMAN to his helpline number or call Mr.Sandeep Malan.
Get Ready for the emotional Atyachaar!!!
**To get Exclusive pictures of our very own Priyanka Thaii... sms StepMAN to his helpline number or call Mr.Sandeep Malan.
Get Ready for the emotional Atyachaar!!!
A Heartfelt Expression of Love and Gratitude ~ continued
Reply to Pink Orchid -A Heartfelt Expression of Love and Gratitude
A short poem to savour the moment :)
Nothing far,
Nothing near,
that can match
the Lounge here
such is the atmosphere
inspiring and exhilarating
leaving no stone unturned
anything under the sun
full of laughter and fun
feelings and desires
expressed to surprise
`
We have engineers
doctors and
Nothing near,
that can match
the Lounge here
such is the atmosphere
inspiring and exhilarating
leaving no stone unturned
anything under the sun
full of laughter and fun
feelings and desires
expressed to surprise
`
We have engineers
doctors and
accountants too
We have dentists
and yeMBeeyAe's
and a pilot too
We Blog, We slog
ne'er clog or flog
We write,
We read,
We lounge ,
truly we're
The Writers Lounge
and yeMBeeyAe's
and a pilot too
We Blog, We slog
ne'er clog or flog
We write,
We read,
We lounge ,
truly we're
The Writers Lounge
kings
TIME NAHI !!!
Gaadi hae,petrol hae,aana jaana hae,
par ek bar horn bajane ka bhi time nahi.
par ek bar horn bajane ka bhi time nahi.
Wadein hae,kasme hae,iraadein hae,
par nibhane ka time nahi.
par nibhane ka time nahi.
mobile hae,balance hae,
par missed call dene ka time nahi.
par missed call dene ka time nahi.
Sapno ki duniya mein,
sapne dekhne ka time nahi.
sapne dekhne ka time nahi.
Dimag hae,dil hae,
par sahi galat samajne ka time nahi.
pyar hae,chahat hae,
par jatane ke liye time nahi.
par jatane ke liye time nahi.
Bhook hae,pyas hae,
par isse door karne ka time nahi,
par isse door karne ka time nahi,
tujhse door na rah pane ke bahut wajah hae,
par ishaar karne ka time nahi.
par ishaar karne ka time nahi.
aur bahut hae batane ke liye,
par kya karu?
karne ka time nahi.......
time nahi time nahi.........
'NOTHING'
Time doesn't wait for you and me..
days pass..and years pass..
u lose your loved ones...
u move away from your loved ones...
your life changes...
society changes...
but your heart has those precious moments etched in it..
whether you want it or not...
they are there...
making u happy or sad at times...
and making it even more painful at times...
your heart has those moments in the corner..
where no one can see what it is...
they ask seeing your blank faces...
and you...
you just smile and say-
...'NOTHING'....
days pass..and years pass..
u lose your loved ones...
u move away from your loved ones...
your life changes...
society changes...
but your heart has those precious moments etched in it..
whether you want it or not...
they are there...
making u happy or sad at times...
and making it even more painful at times...
your heart has those moments in the corner..
where no one can see what it is...
they ask seeing your blank faces...
and you...
you just smile and say-
...'NOTHING'....
Comparitive Rhtym
It was yesterday,
I was entrapped in certain emotions,
They kept me clutched to my past.
It is today,
I have cleansed those confusions,
As I don’t want them to last.
It was yesterday,
I had so much to face around,
I even drifted apart from myself.
It is today,
My heart doesn’t feel bound,
I am in a place where joy is fenced.
It was yesterday,
I wished I could run away,
From the life which took a toll on me.
It is today,
My soul can breathe and sway,
I relive and sense that I am free.
It was yesterday,
Oh!
I am Euphoric it was YESTERDAY.
It is today,
WoW!
I am CONTENT it is TODAY.
Hindi Akhbaar me likhne ka mauka
Doston,
Hume ye ummeed rehti hai, ke humara lekh zyada se zyada log padhe aur zyada se zyada logo tak wo pahuche ... is ke like dainik patrika se achha upay aur kya ho saqta hai? haali me mujhe ek akhbar se amantran mila hai isma likhne ke liye ... waise to akhbar naya hai lekin logo tak humari baatein pahucha sakti hai ... agar aap bhi ichhuk hai likhne ke liye, to zaroor is mauke ka fayda uthayen ...
Please visit this link for more information:
http://akshatvichaar.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post_6987.html
aap sabka shubhchintak,
Hume ye ummeed rehti hai, ke humara lekh zyada se zyada log padhe aur zyada se zyada logo tak wo pahuche ... is ke like dainik patrika se achha upay aur kya ho saqta hai? haali me mujhe ek akhbar se amantran mila hai isma likhne ke liye ... waise to akhbar naya hai lekin logo tak humari baatein pahucha sakti hai ... agar aap bhi ichhuk hai likhne ke liye, to zaroor is mauke ka fayda uthayen ...
Please visit this link for more information:
http://akshatvichaar.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post_6987.html
aap sabka shubhchintak,
February 23, 2009
Love You Dear
Let’s share life
Once more
Violating the rules. Now,
Even more
Years passed
Over the edge
Under the same roof
Dealt with life
Every time
And again
Reassessing all proof'!
Once more
Violating the rules. Now,
Even more
Years passed
Over the edge
Under the same roof
Dealt with life
Every time
And again
Reassessing all proof'!
Acrostic Poetry
Every monday i will posting about a poetry style(and even try to write in that style frequently that week).Here's the first one -
This is the simplest type of poetry style i love to experiment with.The only rule you have to remember is that the first letter of each line spells a word, usually using the same words as the title.
As -
ORANGES
Out of my
Reach,they
Attract my
Nostalgic
Grooves of
Eyes..ah! my
Sweet childhood.
My other Acrostic Poems
Acrostic Poem blog
Do try,post here for my reading and have fun !!
Another style next monday!!
This is the simplest type of poetry style i love to experiment with.The only rule you have to remember is that the first letter of each line spells a word, usually using the same words as the title.
As -
ORANGES
Out of my
Reach,they
Attract my
Nostalgic
Grooves of
Eyes..ah! my
Sweet childhood.
My other Acrostic Poems
Acrostic Poem blog
Do try,post here for my reading and have fun !!
Another style next monday!!
OSCARS, Welcome to India.!!
Needless to say,it is a proud day today,for all Indians.After what seemed to be an endless wait,finally fate smiled at us,at the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood.The Oscars finally landed in our kitty.As Resul Kutty held the Oscar trophy in his hands,tiny droplets of tears must have welled up in thousands of Indian eyes round the globe.I too,was one among them!! The proud moment when Resul became the first Indian to receive this prestigious award,in the magnificient Kodak theatre,amidst a cacophony of the top actors,directors and producers of the world,moved me to heartfelt tears and laughter.The Indian Film Fraternity finally carved out its niche,at the Academy Awards.We had been waiting for this day with bated breath,ever since the Academy Awards came into existence in May 1929.Needless to say,these are the greatest and the most prestigious awards in the entire moviedom.
However,amidst the celebrations that followed the memorable award ceremony,what caught my attention was the unfair treatment meted out to Resul on the part of the Indian press and media.I was painfully disappointed to notice that A.R. Rehman was the sole eye candy,who hogged all the praise and attention.
But hey,hold on. Don't take this slight criticism on my part,in the wrong stride.All that I wish to point out is,the unequal treatment accorded by media,to all the winners,courtsey Slumdog Millionaire. After all,Rehman was not the only Indian who was bestowed upon with the Oscar statuette today.
Resul Kutty,Gulzar sahab,Little Pinky equally deserve the praise and applause for their significant contributions in their respective fields.How many of us were even aware about the short documentary film, Smile Pinky ,which was India's entry under the nominations of the Best Documentary(short subject) award???!!! Since the last few days,the entire media hype and wishes for the Oscars revolved around Rehman and Danny Boyle.None of the channels paid even the slightest bit of attention to the other aspiring winners,who also deserved our prayers and attention.They were also a significant part of the race,after all!! I don't care for others,but for me,all four of them: Rehman,Gulzar,Resul and Pinky deserve equal honour and applause.I feel proud to be their countrymen.
Three cheers for all of them!
And yes,for me Kutty and Pinky are as prominent as Rehman and Gulzar.They are all Masters in their respective fields.
Way to go,Indians.
Almost lost and almost recovered - Chapter 2
A heaven turns hell
and you bid farewell
---------
That very day when Shanti named her baby, five hundred miles away from Tanjore, on the island of Srilanka, Shyama was reading Sengaialiyan's* Muttathu Ottaipanai when she heard the hue and cry from outside. She could sense the reason, for it could be nothing but another military attack on the village which was considered to be a hiding spot of the terrorists according to the army and yes the village was indeed one and Shyama herself was the wife of a Liberation soldier. The bullets from a machine gun were traveling through the bodies of her neighbours lifting them and pushing them back into the walls of their home. The soldiers missed out Shyama who was hiding inside a narrow passage between the two homes. Shyama was so used to losing her dear ones that the loss ceased to penetrate deep into her conscience. Her aghast eyes emptied the final few drops of salted water she had in store. Seven years ago she had lost her mother and father in a similar attack. And Mathivanan.
How could she ever forget him. He was the only soul she had for herself. She had not yet recovered from his loss. They were a happy couple until three months ago when Mathivanan confessed that he belonged to the liberation army and that he was to play a suicide bomber in their next plan of attack. She would have been with him by now if not for his priceless gift to her, a mass formed of a passionate combination of both their genes, a mass that would have started breathing by the time he sacrificed his life, a mass that was now fully grown with hands and legs cuddling inside her womb, a mass herself and Mathivanan had dreamt of creating a doctor from. So much so Mathivanan was still lingering in her thoughts. No one second would pass without thinking of him.
The whole village was shattered to pieces. Undoubtedly everyone was dead. Now that the village was nothing but a huge pile corpses of her neighbours, relatives and enemies, Shyama had no choice but to abandon her land and reach the shores on the other side. She did not want her baby to suffer a similar fate. She heard someone moaning in pain by the time she reached the end of the village. It was Malli, a 16 year old cousin of hers. She was dying. The lower half of her body was drenched with blood. When the innocent people surrendered their lives to the bullets of the machine gun, the prettiest of the girl lot encountered the worst of fates. Gang rapes were a common phenomenon while such attacks took place. Only death could free Malli from her suffering. Without a second thought Shyama crushed Malli's throat and left her to rest in peace.
She joined a group of people ready to flee to India from the nearby villages that were equally affected. After 2 hours of fearsome journey over the Indian Ocean their boat reached the shores of Rameshwaram. Shyama had her labour pains that very instant. She had awaited this moment for long. It was a baby girl. They were taken to the refugee camp nearby and their names were registered in the ledger. It was time to obtain a birth certificate for the baby. The officer in charge asked for the baby's name.
"Mathi", Shyama could not think of a better name.
"Malar", she also thought of how much Mathivanan has wished to name the baby Malar.
Name : Mathi Malar
Place of birth: Rameshwaram
Date of birth: 07.11.1987
Authorized signature.
Seal.
Malar's birth certificate was made. Shyama's baby was now an Indian citizen born on Indian soil and would never have to go back to that cursed place.
Mathi Malar, almost an Indian by birth and almost a Srilankan by heredity.
-----------
Sengaialiyan : A famous Srilankan Tamil author.
Oscars 2009 (Live Update of Results)
- Best Supporting Actress - Penelope Cruz (Vicky Cristina Barcelona)
- Best Animated Feature Film - WALL-E
- Best Art Direction - The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
- Best Cinematography - Slumdog Millionaire
- Best Costume Design - The Duchess
- Best Make Up - The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
- Best Writing (Original Screenplay) - Milk
- Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay) - Slumdog Milionaire
- Best Live Action (Short) - Toyland
- Best Short Film (Animated) - La Maison en Petits Cubes
- Best Supporting Actor - Heath Ledger (The Dark Knight)
- Best Documentary - Man On Wire
- Best Documentary (Short Subject) - Smile Pinky
- Best Visual Effects - The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
- Best Sound Editing - The Dark Knight
- Best Sound Mixing - Slumdog Millionaire
- Best Film Editing - Slumdog Millionaire
- Best Original Score - A.R. Rahman (Slumdog Millionaire)
- Best Original Song - "Jai Ho"/Slumdog Millionaire (A.R. Rahman/Gulzar)
- Best Foreign Language Film - Departures (Japan)
- Best Director - Danny Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire)
- Best Actress in a Leading Role - Kate Winslet (The Reader)
- Best Actor in a Leading Role - Sean Penn (Milk)
- Best Motion Picture - Slumdog Millionaire
I hope the live updates of the Oscars 2009 were useful to the readers of The Writers' Lounge. AR Rahman, Gulzar and Resul Pookutty have done India proud. Many congratulations to them! And here's hoping that an "Indian language film" will be honoured with that beautiful Oscar statuette soon enough.
February 22, 2009
Tring trring...
Okay I know this is not how cell phones ring these days... but since I can't emulate the thousands of ring tones on cell... well this should do...
And by now, I guess you know I am talking about...
We see people bragging about their high-end sleek slim 'latesht' mobiles... well I am not going to do that...
My handset looks like a purane zamaane ka dabba, but ironically... it still gets used more than the latesht pieces of my friends, because more often than not... their phones are balance-less.
Mine is post-paid!
You find people clicking pictures all over the place...(yeah, you get the idea...) I can proudly say that I never do that....
(My cell doesn't have a camera... :D )
You find people on their two wheelers, oblivious to the car honking at ear-cracking noise levels with earphones and music blaring in their ears (yeah Linkin Park fans!). Well I never do that either...
(Hehe... my cell doesn't have any songs, or FM either :D )
The favourite pass time of my friends seems to be Bluetoothing...
(Yeah mine isn't...)
Flowers and hearts adore the cell screen of their cells...
(I hate those...)
People live in constant worry... about their precious ones...
(My cell doesn't have a SIM and nobody would want it even if I were to gift it for free... so no worries... and bina tension ke aadmi zyada jeeta hai na... :D )
And my cell can do modelling too...
See... toh behtar kaun???
P.S. I seem to have lost my voice... thanks to inflated tonsils, as it is I have such a 'surili' awaaz... it sounds like crockery crashing right now... ;)
Anonymity!
Life moves, Life conquers,
You came, You conquered,
The heart missed the beat,
But the anonymity reigned,
The anonymity had drawn me to you,
And everything else became meaningless.
Meaningless was the voices,
Meaningless was the sky,
And meaningless was the moon and the stars,
Meaningless was you and meaningless was me,
Meaningless in itself was the meaning.
The meaning of the emotion,
The meaning of the truth,
The meaning of the feeling,
And the meaning of the love,
Lovingness of the presence,
And the presence of the absence.
Absence and the numbness had drawn me to you,
And your numbness made you take the risk,
My silence provoked you and your silence is killing me,
I wondered I contemplated and searched for meanings,
My heart gave answers and my head rejected it,
I wondered and I wondered.
Wonder in the anonymity still aghast me,
I still wonder if it’s meant to be,
The mystery reigns and the silence exists,
The meaning is still void and there is still a search,
But then the feeling of anonymity exist everywhere,
But I still wait and wait ……,
Maybe for an answer….maybe for a conclusion.
Chaotic Thoughts
A dark lonely night,
There is plight,
What to do,what not,
I need an insight.
I am baffled with this quest,
My senses are numb,
Everything is hazy,
Wonder what life has become.
The more I think,
The more I am lost,
Still I am seeking,
An answer at any cost.
There is plight,
What to do,what not,
I need an insight.
I am baffled with this quest,
My senses are numb,
Everything is hazy,
Wonder what life has become.
The more I think,
The more I am lost,
Still I am seeking,
An answer at any cost.
Wordless Conversation
It was early in the morning
Was a foggy kind of a morning
when our eyes met.
"Why are we doing this?” she asked
“May be because we have to!”
“Why do we have to?”
I didn’t have an answer.
She looked at me again
"Why can’t I wear what you are wearing?”
“You will dear, one day definitely :)”
“But why not now, she retorted”
Again, I had no answer.
She had her eyes fixed on me now
“Your bag seems so light”
“Yes it is! In fact it has nothing :P”
“Why is mine so heavy, it hurts my shoulders”
I was searching for an answer.
Was a foggy kind of a morning
when our eyes met.
"Why are we doing this?” she asked
“May be because we have to!”
“Why do we have to?”
I didn’t have an answer.
She looked at me again
"Why can’t I wear what you are wearing?”
“You will dear, one day definitely :)”
“But why not now, she retorted”
Again, I had no answer.
She had her eyes fixed on me now
“Your bag seems so light”
“Yes it is! In fact it has nothing :P”
“Why is mine so heavy, it hurts my shoulders”
I was searching for an answer.
"Teacher scolds me everyday, do you get scolded?"
"Yeah, for not sitting lectures"… :P"
But we don’t do that and still get scolded, even get beaten sometimes.... why does that happen?"
My answers were beginning to dry up.
“I haven’t done my homework, Have you?”
“Heh! We don’t get any homework dear!”
“Why do we do then …that too in heaps?”
I finally took my eyes away.
After a few seconds I gazed at her and gave a little smile
“Look at you, why are you smiling now?”
“No, Nothing to do with you girl.”
“Why do you think I am not?”
I guess, I knew her answer.
Her School bus arrived and her mom bid her goodbye. She still had a frown on her face. I was left stranded alone waiting for my bus.
P.S: Inspired by a cute lil’ girl in her school uniform staring at me from a distance early in the morning when we both were waiting for our bus. Instantly this came to mind :D.... She had such an “Ohh I don’t want to go to school mommy” kind of an expression that I almost felt sorry for her :(
I'll Miss The Bike!
It's been really long since I last wrote here. There were some *unavoidable* situations which held me from posting here and even on my own blog! But today, I need your prayers!
I have a cousin named Vatsal! We call him Vibhu or Vebby. I call him bhai! I love him loads. Actually, he's the only cousin I'm so open to; have so much fun; and even make a fool out of myself. Being the youngest son of the family, he's always been a pampered kid. And now, a pampered adult. In short, he's the sweetheart of the whole khandaan!!
He's one crazy guy for speed! You ask him absolutely anything about cars and bikes, and he's a walking encyclopedia. I don't know his favorite car, but his favorite bike has always been Yamaha R1. He once told me, "Whenever I go online, I make it a point I watch the YouTube videos of this bike. Trust me, I'm gonna get this bike soon." And seriously, he's watched all the videos that have ever been uploaded on YouTube. To cut the long story short, he has a fetish for bikes. Specially that one! So my mamaji, his dad, bought him the bike.
I and mom went to meet his family in January this year. The bike was as hot as you can imagine. A sexy blue bike. We were watching Loose Change and couldn't wait for it to finish so we could ride it. The movie was over. He took the helmet, the bike keys, and wished me good luck for the ride.
I sat behind as the pillion. He said, "Mitali, hold me as tight as you can." (He calls me Mitali). I held him as tightly as I possibly could! We started. And soon, his bike was going a whopping 170 kmph. He had a helmet but I didn't. I was shit scared. But it was a ride of a lifetime. The next day, I told all my friends that I rode on a *sports* bike on 170 kmph.
My cousin had been addicted to his bike. All his facebook dp's have been of his bike. Even during our cousin sister's wedding he was more concerned about buying a proper bike wear. You know the jackets and arm pads etc etc. The wedding was a lot of fun. I was back home by the evening of 19th Feb. 20th Feb was to be the reception. My cousin didn't tell his parents and went to take the bike from Faridabad to Gurgaon. He was riding it to Gurgaon. Must have been over 200 kmph.
His bike crashed! Dad said that he didn't see a bump in the road. The bike's front wheel was displaced completely. The road's railing was in the petrol tank of the bike. And my cousin's injury was major. A huge part of his chest flesh has been cut apart and separated from the body. It was because of his helmet that there were no head injuries and because he's a nice plum guy, he survived the accident. Otherwise it would've been a bad mishap. He almost had a fatal accident. His "baby"..his bike is nothing but a scrap now. Nothing is left of it now. Though I'm sure that his dad will get him the same bike again but it'll take him a lot of time to recover.
Dad told me the news on the condition that I won't tell this to my mom. Mamaji hasn't told this to anyone because of the wedding season in the family. Dad said that it didn't hurt him at all as my cousin called his brother himself to inform that he had an accident. But still....it was very disturbing to hear that Vebby was in hospital. We're gonna meet him on 1st. He'll be back home by then. But I haven't stopped praying that he recovers soon. It still is unbelievable to me that he had an accident. I still remember, I asked him before going on a ride with him, "What if you crash your bike?? I don't even a helmet on!!" And he laughed and said, "Don't worry, this bike is cool. It has awesome brakes. And I mean, seriously, don't you trust me?? Don't worry, we won't go beyond 200!!"
I'm gonna miss his bike a lot!! But get well soon bhai so we can again go on a ride when you get the bike again!!
February 21, 2009
Sleeping well!
I was about to sleep. It was a bad day in office. I went home – switched on the TV and had my food. There were news of gunshots and grenade blasts in Mumbai. It was still going on for the second consecutive day and the reporters were bursting with news and live facts that they could gather from the Taj, Oberoi Trident and Nariman House. It was funny to see the neophytes talk without scripts. I wanted to be with them for some more time. I was hoping that they would tell that the fight is over and the buildings are sanitized. I was not able to stay awake and had to sleep. My eyes were weary and wanted to be closed. I switched off the TV and went straight to bed. Fell on it like a dead stick. Someone called from there. I knew it would want to talk. I said, “Yes.” The Pillow said, “Are you trying to sleep?” I said, “No, I am going to sleep.” I thought it would be enough; but no, the pillow continued, “How can you go to sleep, when so many people are still being held inside the buildings by those fanatics? How can you sleep when hundreds of Indian policemen are fighting against terror without food and sleep for scores of hours? Do you think the families of the deceased and the hostages are sleeping? If all these people are awake, can you sleep?” I did not want to answer. I had no answer, for that matter. I pulled one more pillow and covered my head and tried to shut the eyes. I was losing my sleep already, but did not want to stay awake. My friends, the pillows were determined this time, not to let me sleep. They started again, “You were asleep, when the terrorists crept in and killed so many people. You were asleep when they came in and planted bombs in different parts of the country which blew hundreds of people dead and injured. Will you still sleep? Is this a time to sleep? Won’t you go out and do something for this?” I thought, “What can I do?” It seems the pillows could read my mind too. They almost shouted, “Who else can do? Everyone is thinking like this and none is stepping forward. If you do not step forward, how can you expect someone else to obverse to deal with your issues – issues with your own country, your home? If you sleep, you should not expect anyone else to be awake – fighting for your country’s safety – your safety. Did you hear the blasts that took place in Jaipur, Bangalore, Agartala, Delhi and Mumbai? If you did not, who else would? If not you, who will face all these? Who will fight for you? Who will fight for the country? If you do not start, who will?” I disliked this. I did not want to discuss this now. It was not the time – and never the place. It was my bed and I was back after a hard day in office. I wanted to sleep. I was not allowed to. My friends were turning to be my foes. They were right, may be; but I did not want to think if they were not. I have not heard any of the blasts – neither the ones in Bangalore, where I live, nor the ones in Agartala, my native town. Probably I was sleeping. If not, I was in office, resolving technical issues of US people. It has to be shameful but I could not help it. I am having a hard time in office earning my bread and butter. I am not getting paid for what I am doing in office and there is no increment in my salary this time. I had plans – which are now nothing but ruins. I have to talk to my parents regarding a hell lot of issues which I am not able to do for a long time now. I have to fix my fridge and the fan in the bedroom. I have so many works pending – I am just not doing them. And now, the pillows wanted me to fight for the nation? They wanted me to fight the terrorists? What nonsense! What can I do? How can I make any difference? I am no leader, neither am I an activist nor do I have commando training. I am a simple lower middle class man, trying to be the backbone of my family. I do not have time to do my household works, how would I go fight with the extremists there? However, the pillows had good points and their questions were not wrong. But I had no answer. (I still do not have any.) Probably I should think about this – but when and how? I kept on thinking…
The next time I opened my eyes, it was already passed 3 PM. I was late. I left the bed in a jerk. Inserted the tooth brush in my mouth and switched on the TV. The terrorists were still there – the commandoes were still there – the news reporters were still there – the panic was still there. Nothing changed while I was sleeping. Phew! I looked back at the pillows, now scattered hither and thither on the bed and wanted to tell, “See, nothing has changed. Everything is same there.” I laughed within in satisfaction. Then another thought came to my mind: Is it because I was sleeping, that nothing has changed and more panic has been created? I do not know – I am still searching for an answer here …
Posted on December 4, 2008 at You can and you will!!!- The Story of Two Pillows
shattered hopes....
aaj jab mein results dekhna nikla, mein apni ank dekhne ke liye itna utsuk thaa maano mujhe hi pata nahi aaj mujhmein kya hua. Jab kal Anurag ne mujhe call kiya tha 6 baje,tabh mein zara pareshan lag raha tha.Bahut saal baad mein fir se internet mein apna results dekhne wala tha.....apni aakhein band karte hua meine apne numbers lagaye , congragulations dikhaya gaya aur mein khushi se tarbatar ho gaya.Mein bahut khush huaaa ,par aaj jab mein apne marks dekhne college gaya tabh mujhe pata chala ki yeh khushi sirf do din ke liye seemit the. Han jii ,meine sapne mein bhi nahi socha tha ki mujhe kam marks milenge...is baar mujhe sirf 65 % mile jo pichlii baar se kahi guna kam hai ,pichle sem mein mere 74% the.Sabhi dost mere khushi se jhum ute ,par mein rote huee ghar ke liye nikal pada... meine maa se vaada kiya tha ki is baar mere 70% se jyada marks milenge..abh mein unse kya kahta...apni paaa se mein kya kahta...abh bhi is waqt mere aakhon se aasu aa rahe hai...mujhep ata nahi mein yeh kyun nahi samaj sakta hun ki mere kam marks kyun aaye. agar mere dusre dosto aur anyaaaa logo ka bhi kam marks hota toh mein chintit rahta....par najane kya hua ...sirf mujhe hi itne kam marks mile.....abh toh mujhe agle sem mein bahut padhna padega.....kya karun mujhe samaj mein hi nahi aata.....
i feel dejected..... i think all my hard work have gone to bin. How could I get less marks if the other undeservings have got good marks.....i know i am wrong,but at this point of time I can't control my emotions and anger.......am crying....
i feel dejected..... i think all my hard work have gone to bin. How could I get less marks if the other undeservings have got good marks.....i know i am wrong,but at this point of time I can't control my emotions and anger.......am crying....
Foolish Flower.....
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Fresh and bright, unknown to pain
Bloomed one flower, behind the country lane.
With petals of gold and spots of red
It was the prettiest thing on the flower bed.
It had old friends, who had seen it grow
Who were there to care and who loved it so.
Wind swayed the leaves and butterflies played around
A big tree bestowed shade, birds had a pleasant sound.
One fine day it was in full bloom, it admired itself all smiles
"My beauty is so eternal, no one can compare for miles.
The birds sing for me, I am a gem, the tree believes
The butterflies are full of awe, and my crowning glory, the leaves."
Other flowers whispered to it, it pretended not to hear
It didnt even nod at the little girl, who admiringly came near.
It threw its weight around, and insulted the wind so strong
It said the leaves had withered, it scorned the birds' song.
Being friends, they endured, till they could take it no more
They went to Mother Nature, and their troubles began to pour.
She smiled to herself and said "The foolish thing is too proud
I will end its bloom too soon, a lesson quite clear and loud."
The next morning it awoke, all set for another beautiful day
But something was wrong, it thought, its petals could no more sway.
The colours seemed dull, the gold and red so light
It couldnt lift its head up, the sun seemed much too bright
.The big tree said "You've dried up flower, ended has your bloom timeNothing is forever foolish one, remember these words of mine.
Beauty is a vision, which doesn't reach the soul
What matters is character, and values which make one whole.
The butterflies will still play, the leaves will still sway
The birds' sing already, and spring is on its way.
If you desire undying love, show us what you are worth
Dont live in illusions of beauty, accept defeat with mirth."
The flower hung its head in shame, it had realized its mistake
It observed the joyous flowers, and slowly accepted its fate.
The Striker - Prologue
Fiesta was going to witness the biggest event in his life. He was asked to join his national team after 4 years.It was a "do or die" situation for him where his team faced traditional rival France in the Euro Cup finals.The whole of Italy is standing aside him to see the lost hero score a goal for their nation. He is ready with the ball on his hand to make a final go at the 88th minute of the France Vs Italy Euro Cup final.
Fans and team mates anticipately wait for him to kick the ball. "Fiesto, Fiesto," the entire staduim buzzes , imbued with 78,900 fans. Major chunk of the staduim was overshadowed by the Italian blue Jersey and the other with the French White. Cannavaro,Tonni,Alexandro and Mattarazi eagerly wait for him to post the goal .The coach was keenly watching him from sidelines."Feisto,Fiesto," the staduim roared with high intensity.Anabel was sitting at a corner along with her two kids to see the wounded tiger bounce back in action."Common, Fiesto," she cheered her husband while the Italians screamed and encouraged the hero.
Fans and team mates anticipately wait for him to kick the ball. "Fiesto, Fiesto," the entire staduim buzzes , imbued with 78,900 fans. Major chunk of the staduim was overshadowed by the Italian blue Jersey and the other with the French White. Cannavaro,Tonni,Alexandro and Mattarazi eagerly wait for him to post the goal .The coach was keenly watching him from sidelines."Feisto,Fiesto," the staduim roared with high intensity.Anabel was sitting at a corner along with her two kids to see the wounded tiger bounce back in action."Common, Fiesto," she cheered her husband while the Italians screamed and encouraged the hero.
"Comune Fiesto, si farà(Common Fiesto , you can do it)"
He was ready for the kick,the kick of his life. Will the Striker score a goal for his country.? Will he make his people happy and win the Euro cup for his team?. Get ready for live football action only on the Writers Lounge. Coming Soon!!!
**Football fans from the Lounge are invited to co write with me.
The Striker.. ready to kick
**Football fans from the Lounge are invited to co write with me.
LOVE...a great feeling
LOVE the word that attach two person by their heart.when you love someone the world seems to be beautiful for you.
you enjoying the evening sunset and morning sunrise that you never enjoy.you do all the things with joy and happiness.
Love is somewhat a inner feeling that only be understand by your lover
"Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile."
so friends tell me what do you think about love.
Love (SITL)
continued from His Love
and Her Love
Did she not know of the embassy letter,to send him on a important assignment for 5 years?? she knew,she knew 'cause they shared the same mailbox,and 'cause she had checked the mail today morning.but he did not realize this,never imagined she will let her love suffer for his carreer.
A Rainy Encounter
It was another Monday and he knew not what to do. The morning was broken and no Sun rose. Dark clouds covered the sky like a thick blanket. A few beams of light came out from here and there but could never match the sunshine he had yesterday. The sip on the cup of tea was bleak – it tasted like syrup and looked like mud water. He kept the cup aside and stood up from the easy chair. He removed the yellow dirty curtains with his shivering hands and moved out in to the verandah. The indoor plants there were still wet from the late night drizzle and so were the streets down. He held the railings tightly and looked up once again towards the sky.
Drops of pearl are hiding
Behind the blanket of cloud
The glacier of rains
Not moving but shouting aloud.
Go away, O cloud great,
Let there be sunshine,
Let the rays pierce my heart
And reach this soul of mine.
No, it would not rain soon, he thought. Is it good time to go out? He looked at his watch, probably for the tenth time this morning and it tells the same time. It was time to sit back at home and get more bored. He turned back towards the door of the verandah and leaned backwards on the railings. He took out the small linen piece to clean his spectacles, again for the tenth time probably. It was shining like gold by now. He cleaned it once more and went inside.
He turned on the TV to see if there was anything interesting. Astha Channel! Damn! There is nobody home today. He need not pretend to be watching this freaking channel anymore. He turned on the Sports Channel. WWF – yeah, the program to watch now. He liked this fat man in red and white, but could not recall his name. Whatever, he was good – he thrashed those two bulldogs the other day and it was fun to watch. Let’s see what he does today to this bear in yellow.
“साब, मैं जाऊँ?” (“Sir, may I go?”) the maid enquired. She has always been so nice to him. Always ready to serve him the way he wants. She’s probably the only person in the world who takes good care of him. Probably an ‘achhut’ (untouchable) – pretty dark, tall and exposing! She must be in her late twenties. She has all those immature gestures of that age. Probably unmarried too, but he never had the guts to ask her. These people do not clad that way too, so you cannot just tell if they are married just by looking at them.
“साब, अब मैं जाऊँ?” (“Sir, may I go now?”) the maid enquired again. Damn!
“सिउली, बेठ न थोडी देर. घर में कोई नही है. थोडी देर बय्ठ्के चली जाना.” (“Shiuli, stay for some time. There is no one in the house. Stay for some time and then go.”)
“साब, दूसरी जगह भी जाना है.” (Sir, I need to go to another place too.)
“अभी, अभी जाना है?” (“Do you need to go right now?”)
“हम्म, नही. थोडी देर बय्ठ्के जाती हूँ.” (“Hmm, no. I shall stay for some time.”)
She sat near him, alongside his easy chair. He felt anxious. She was sitting so close to him that he almost could smell her sweat. He hoped that it starts raining and never stops now.
Rain now,
As if you never did
Wash away the earth along
For, it’s you now, whom I need!
Rain hard,
As long as you want to,
Don’t ask me why, now
Just that I want you.
He could easily feel that Shiuli did not take much interest in wrestling. So, he gave the remote to her and asked her to select a channel she would like to watch. She took the remote with a tiny leap, but then looked back at him as if asking permission. He smiled at her and winked. She was all smiles. Could not read much though, but she was happy getting this unexpected privilege. She browsed through the channels and finally held on to a Hindi movie channel which was showing a not-so-new movie on it. Shiuli seems to be enjoying.
He could not look at her directly, even if he wanted to. He tried to move within his chair as far as possible, but could not get a glimpse of her. He moved again and again in quick succession, but still Shiuli’s beautiful face was away from him. He could feel the togetherness and the proximity, not knowing if Shiuli was feeling the same. He did not care for that. He was trying to get as close as possible, in his own way, from within the boundary of the easy chair.
“गोविंदा मेरा सबसे मनपसंद हीरो है साबजी. आपको भी अच्छा लगता है?” (Govinda is my favorite hero, Sir. Do you like him too?”)
He came out tearing through the spell of her beauty.
“हाँ, हाँ क्यों नही. बहोत अच्छा है. और कौन अच्छा लगता है तुझको?” (“Yes, why not? Whom else do you like?”)
“गोविंदा, शाहरुख़, अमिताभ और सलमान. आपको?” (“Govinda, Shahrukh, Amitabh and Salman. And who’s your favorites?”)
“हाँ, मुझे भी.” (“Yes, I too like them.”)
It started to rain outside. It was drizzling, but now it was heavy – just what he wished for. Shiuli was getting more relaxed and friendly with him. She let go the knot in her hair and let it loose. A subtle fragrance filled the atmosphere. He could feel it – more with every breath he took. At times, she would catch hold of the leg of the easy chair and would shake it. The sudden movement would set a chilling feeling in his spine. He was very excited – a feeling of freedom and mischief was filling his mind. He was about to ask her to close the door to the verandah when she looked up at the wall clock.
“मर गयी साब! नौ बज गया. मुझे दूसरी जगह भी जाना है.” (“Oh My God Sir! It’s 9 o’clock now. I need to go to another place too.”)
“चली जाना. ये फ़िल्म तो खतम करले.” (“Finish this film and go.”)
“नही साब. मुझे अभी जाना होगा. घर में मेरा एक साल का एक बच्चा भी है. अकेला है वो. मुझे अभी जाना होगा.” (“No Sir. I need to go now. I have left my one year old kid back home. It is alone. I need to leave now.”) With these words, she stood up and started to tie her hair.
He was dumbstruck! He never saw that coming, not from any direction he could think of. He felt lost. He felt selfish. He felt weird and shitty. Ashamed! He knew not how to react. A weird feeling filled his head and the feeling moved down through the throat and chest and reached his stomach. It was almost aching! He sat straight in the easy chair, trying to relax. He was breathing heavily – almost audible. He wanted to walk up to the door and open the door by himself, but could not even stand up. His heart was sinking and he could feel it. He could utter no word.
Rain O rain,
Stop pouring!
Take a break and stop for sometime
Let her reach her goal. Then rain again!
The downpour slowed down. Shiuli left, not before reminding him of the glass of milk and his medicines. He raised his right hand as if he promised her to have those on time. She locked the door behind her and threw the key from beneath the door. He need not move towards the door. He could not. He was too ashamed to have looked at her again or to move any further. He sat there for I-don’t-know-how-long. The delicate scent of her body, hair and sweat prevailed, but he could not feel it anymore.
He stood up holding his knees. He walked up to the door to the verandah, removed the curtains and leaned on the railings. He remembered today to be another Monday morning. He ardently hated this time every week for four years, since the time he retired. It was not raining anymore, but the streets down were all wet. He looked up in despair. I am not sure, but probably he cried – for one last time!
A feeling so impure
I felt today,
I would shed tears, but then
Laugh, you may.
What would you do there?
Come down and pour on me
Drench me, soak me and clean me
O Cloud great, I pray to thee…
Cross posted at: Thus Wrote Tan!
February 20, 2009
I am back to rock the Lounge after a long time......
Dearest Writers’ Loungers,
Namaskaram! As I address this to you all, I am overflowing with nostalgia like a tumbler of filter kaapi. For many of you who are new to this territory, I was once the uncrowned Maharaja of this place. So, for the benefit of the chinna kuttys (small cute babies) here, I have written a small introduction. You see, children should be told about legends so that they can learn and be inspired. So, introducing…
Twenty-five years ago, a dynamite was born in a small Malayali kudumbam (family). Babies cry when they are smacked on their butts after birth. This one was different. He hummed a tune when smacked on his butt. Years later, the same tune was used by Rahman for a song in a hit Rajini movie. Such was the power in this little lavangi, who grew up to be an atom bomb named Sandeep Malan. Kaboom!!!
I don’t want to blow my own Nadaswaram. You can read the stories of my heroic acts right here (www.sandeepmalan.blogspot.com). People have written these so that they remain, for generations to read and learn from. I must mention my dear friend Stephen, who insisted on recounting Sandeep’s fables on the lounge. How could I refuse this? Such adulation, I tell you!
Of late, I have been away from the lounge for professional and personal reasons. My erstwhile company, Airvoice cellular had been saddling me with work. I don’t blame them—they couldn’t rely on any tom, dick, and harry for such a big project. Now that I am done with project “Roadaas,” I have quit my job and decided to set up my own business. (Stephen, kanna, you wrote a story about that also na?)
Yesterday, one white colored bird came to my window, fluttering its wings wildly as if something had upset it. Paavam! Then, it pointed towards my computer. When I switched it on, the photo of a superhero popped up. The bird started fluttering its wings even more violently on seeing that photo. Obvious, illaya (isn’t it)? Some strange noise playing in the background… sounded like a few people locked inside the loo, banging on the door and shouting so that someone can let them out. Ridiculous, I say! Purple suit with polka-dotted underwear? I read about him—some fellow called StepMAN—about to take over the lounge aa? I decided that I had to stage a comeback. The lounge needs real-life heroes like me, not some half cock-half man character.
“Naan eppo varuven eppadi varuvennu yarukkum theriyathu. Eppo varunumo appo correctaa varuven.” (When I`ll come, how I`ll come, nobody knows. But when I need to come, I`ll be there.)
So, dear Loungers, here I am—the real hero of the lounge. Watch out for me! And I’ll be watching out for all you lovely girls out there!
Yours always,
Sandeep Malan aka MaluGet closer to StepMAN....My first post on the Lounge...
Hey,Lounge valo
Mujhe pehchaano,
Mein hun aaya ,
Mein hun man
Mein hun man
Mein hun kaun
Mein hun,Mein hun
Mein hun StepMAN.
Mujhe pehchaano,
Mein hun aaya ,
Mein hun man
Mein hun man
Mein hun kaun
Mein hun,Mein hun
Mein hun StepMAN.
Yays, I can't believe this guys. I am really very happy that I am considered as a superhero in the Lounge. Yes, I am a superhero no doubts ,but this Lounge has given me love. I really feel proud after reading those series written by Sandeep ,Asbah,Priyanka,Kajal and Arjun. I some times feel that they have exaggerated at certain parts. I was not the same as described by these people. I was adored by chicks wherever I go.
" Wherever StepMAN goes, chicks follow him "
I should be thankful to one of my best friend Sandeep Balan. He has put in so much efforts to bring this adventure series of mine. Secondly I would like to thank "The Solitary Writer" who is my mirror image. It was because of him that my series is still alive. Every week I will write a post to get a feedback from all my fans out here.I want to know how people acknowledge my work. Last week I'd been too busy as I had travelled to Brazil. The BIM i.e Brazil Institute of Management had asked me to give a lecture to its management student.They also asked me to advice brazilian girls not to wear bikini's in beaches. StepMAN is always surrounded by chicks and this point pissed me off . After giving my speech , I flew over the green amazon forest and the beaches of Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. I am sorry ,my dear fans. Due to my hectic schedule , I am not able to process my fans request and because of which the request database is flooded with messages. I assure you that I will see through your requests and come up with a sure shot solution to all your problems.Recently ,a very famous telecom company had selected me to endorse their products and they have given me the status of being their brand ambassador.It is in the first time in history that a superhero is made brand ambassador of any organisation.I also got a chance to act in Ram Gopal Verma's next movie ,but I refused to accept it after seeing "AAG". I will be shortly seen in a commercial ad where I will be seen with Katrina Kaif endorsing Jepsi, a coldrink.
Dushmano ka dost,
Dosto ka dushman.
mein hun StepMAN.
Dosto ka dushman.
mein hun StepMAN.
I would like to utilize this post to answer my fans letter.This is the first letter that I got from my Loyal fan who loves me.
1. StepMAN, you promised me that you will send me gifts for my birthday which was on 15th February. Everytime I used to wait at the door so that the postman would come to bring StepMANs gift.You have disappointed me. When I asked you again,you told me that you had send me loads and lots of Cadbury chocolates. When you said this,my mouth started watering.And when I wait at the door on my birthday,the postman says that you don't have any letters. You know I was crying and my mummy didn't knew about this.Even my bhaiyya who works in a famous company in Mumbai didn't told anything about you.StepMANs gift was precious to me. I am very sad StepMAN.I hate you.You lied and you are not a Superhero.I will not talk to you.If you want me to talk to you,then send me 7 big bags of chocolates. Love you Superhero ...StepMAN..Superheroes ka baap.
Reply
Dear Sandhya,
I am extremely happy to know that I have got great fans like you.As I had already told you,StepMANs main strengh lies in his fans and peoples happiness.I had send you a big box of cadbury chocolates on 14th February,2009.Just check it out with the postal department.Some one one the way must have gorged over the chocolates. If not I will again send you 7 big bags of chocolates along with cashewnuts and almonds for you and your family.But in return ,I will need 10 Jackfruits and two big sacks containing fresh coconuts for free.Thank you for this letter Sandhya.StepMAN loves you all.
I will be replying to my fans query and letters every week .You can contact me
http://step-man.blogspot.com/
or add me on my gtalk
stepcock@gmail.com
or send me an sms to FRIEND SMAN < your details > to 3533.
StepMAN loves everyone in the Lounge
Kisses !!!
1. StepMAN, you promised me that you will send me gifts for my birthday which was on 15th February. Everytime I used to wait at the door so that the postman would come to bring StepMANs gift.You have disappointed me. When I asked you again,you told me that you had send me loads and lots of Cadbury chocolates. When you said this,my mouth started watering.And when I wait at the door on my birthday,the postman says that you don't have any letters. You know I was crying and my mummy didn't knew about this.Even my bhaiyya who works in a famous company in Mumbai didn't told anything about you.StepMANs gift was precious to me. I am very sad StepMAN.I hate you.You lied and you are not a Superhero.I will not talk to you.If you want me to talk to you,then send me 7 big bags of chocolates. Love you Superhero ...StepMAN..Superheroes ka baap.
-Sandhya Balan ,Kerala
Reply
Dear Sandhya,
I am extremely happy to know that I have got great fans like you.As I had already told you,StepMANs main strengh lies in his fans and peoples happiness.I had send you a big box of cadbury chocolates on 14th February,2009.Just check it out with the postal department.Some one one the way must have gorged over the chocolates. If not I will again send you 7 big bags of chocolates along with cashewnuts and almonds for you and your family.But in return ,I will need 10 Jackfruits and two big sacks containing fresh coconuts for free.Thank you for this letter Sandhya.StepMAN loves you all.
I will be replying to my fans query and letters every week .You can contact me
http://step-man.blogspot.com/
or add me on my gtalk
stepcock@gmail.com
or send me an sms to FRIEND SMAN < your details > to 3533.
StepMAN loves everyone in the Lounge
Kisses !!!
Khuwahish !
Khuwahish!
Ye meri beti ka kamra hai jise maray hoay teen din ho chukay. Aj uska soyam tha. Meri beti sab larkion se alag honay ki dawedar thi jab k yehi baat mjhe uski sab se aam lagti thi. Ye naheen tha ke wo meri ikloti olaaad thi na he ladli beti bas thori si khudsar, ziddi or mun-phutt si lerki thi (is baat par kisi ko shak nahin tha sewaye uskay) ussay ab lagnay laga tha ke jaise wo bilkul akaili hogai hai uski maa to kia main bhi ussay pyar naheen karti . Wo jab kabhi ghussay main ati yehi kehti ;
main mar bhi jaon gi to kisi ko kon sa farq parega main kon sa kisi ka beta hon! Ziyada se ziyada do roz sog manain ge sab.
main jab uski ye jazbati batain sunta hameesha hansta! Or us waqt ussay duniya ke gool ghumnay se lekar meray hansnay tak par ayteraz hota (main uskay jama kiye novels dekh raha tha. Usay ye shoq maa bap se virasat main mila tha). Usay duniya ko khud se taskheer karna acha lagta tha. Uska kamra hameesha bikhra rehta (main uskay takiye [pillow] par haath rakha) magar marne se pehlay wo isse itna saaf kar gai thi ke lag raha tha jaise wo abhi yaheen kisi konay se nikal kar ayegi mujhe betha daikhe gi hairan hokar or kahegi 'papa ap yahan kia kar rahain hain?'
Ye kamra meri beti ka sab se pasandeedah gosha [corner] tha ghar ka. Main apni beti k saray shikway dor karna chahta tha, ussay batana chahta tha ke main usse utna he pyar karta hon jitna apne baqi bachon se. Han ussay sab se ziada dantta tha magar isliye kaheen wo bigar na jaye. Tabhi meri biwi meray pass ayi .
main mar bhi jaon gi to kisi ko kon sa farq parega main kon sa kisi ka beta hon! Ziyada se ziyada do roz sog manain ge sab.
main jab uski ye jazbati batain sunta hameesha hansta! Or us waqt ussay duniya ke gool ghumnay se lekar meray hansnay tak par ayteraz hota (main uskay jama kiye novels dekh raha tha. Usay ye shoq maa bap se virasat main mila tha). Usay duniya ko khud se taskheer karna acha lagta tha. Uska kamra hameesha bikhra rehta (main uskay takiye [pillow] par haath rakha) magar marne se pehlay wo isse itna saaf kar gai thi ke lag raha tha jaise wo abhi yaheen kisi konay se nikal kar ayegi mujhe betha daikhe gi hairan hokar or kahegi 'papa ap yahan kia kar rahain hain?'
Ye kamra meri beti ka sab se pasandeedah gosha [corner] tha ghar ka. Main apni beti k saray shikway dor karna chahta tha, ussay batana chahta tha ke main usse utna he pyar karta hon jitna apne baqi bachon se. Han ussay sab se ziada dantta tha magar isliye kaheen wo bigar na jaye. Tabhi meri biwi meray pass ayi .
"ye apkay liye aya tha" usne ik packet meri taraf barahaya, main ne oper uske chehray par nazar ki to wo bhi nam-alood tha shayed ussay bhi apne beti ki yad arahi hogi.
"kia hai ismain?" main ne usay pocha , usnay lailmi ka izhar kia or janay lagi. Main ne ussay darwaza band karkay janay ko kaha.
Packet khola to usmain ik card or kuch cheezain theen jin main ik leather ka wallet, ik kurta shalwar or ik parcha shamil tha. Main ne card uthaya (father's day ka card hoga) main ne sochtay sochtay card khola magar kholnay par pata chala ke wo to valentines day especial tha ( main hairan hoa bhala valentines day wish karne wala mjhe kon hosakta hai? ) card par meray naam ke ilawa chand satrain likhi hoi theen.
Although I hate Valentine's Day but this year,
I wished someone to be my valentine !
Who else it could be but you.
So will you be my valentine Dad?
I wished someone to be my valentine !
Who else it could be but you.
So will you be my valentine Dad?
Main ne ansoon ko saaf kiya aur nazam wala parcha uthayaparhna shuru kiya to ehsaas hoa ke ye to shayed wohi wali nazm hai jiska mazak meray betay mazak ura rahay thay, usne yeh poem kisi conest main bhi bheji thi shayed isi baat par mazak ura rahay thay main ne nazam ko ik bar phir ghor se parhna shuru kia;
Come With Me Before I Leave!
Death is on its way,
But before leaving you behind,
All alone on your own,
I've a feeling,
I should return once to you,
I should return once to you,
All the precious moments,
That you really deserve,
I want to hug you,
Kiss you and embrace you,
Like never before,
So that whenever you see yourself,
in a mirror or in someone's eyes,
It reminds you the love of mine,
The feel of mine,
As i want to live in you,
Yes! I knw i am in you,
But after me i know,
Your life will not stop,
Even i dont want so,
As all i want is just to,
LOVE YOU!
PROTECT YOU
&
INSPIRE YOU!
PROTECT YOU
&
INSPIRE YOU!
Main ne nazzam ke akhir main dekha to mujhe mukhtib karke meri beti ne do lines likheen theen;
Dad! ye nazam main ne apke liye likhi thi koi
man he naheen raha jisne
bhi parhi usne kaha ye koi dad k liye naheen
likh sakta main apki boht achi beti
naheen hon sirf achi bhi naheen hon magar
dad mujhe maaf kardijiyega or ye cheezain rakh
lejiye ga! kash main apko ye khud deti or app ko
agar cheezain pasand ati to app bhai ki tarhan
mujhe bhi galay lagatay! hai na dad!
Main ne apne apko apne bazon main bhench lia meri beti ko meray galay lagnay ka kitna shoq tha. Kash Papa ki jan! tum yahan hoteen to papa tumhain galay lagatay ik bar phir batatay ke wo tum se kitna pyar karte hain. Kash! Tum ye pehlay papa ko parhwateen to yun khali khuwahish liye to na jateen! Kash PAPA tumhari ye khuwahish puri kardetay! Kash Tum aj zinda hoteen!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is just another piece of mine. Hope you will feel and enjoy it while reading, as i enjoyed and i feeled while writting it! All thanks to my dad as while i wrote this he was away and his apartness made me write this! Readers please comment and suggest!
Thank-you!- illusiOn!
Delhi 6 : Movie Review
Delhi 6, a release from the UTV Movies and ROM Productions released today the 20th February worldwide. Directed by Rakesh Omprakash Mehra, Delhi 6 is a good film but it slightly leans towards being an average watch. Rakesh Omprakash Mehra fails to recreate the magic that RDB created 3 years ago. But again, he continues to point out the hard hitting reality and this time with Delhi 6 goes on to script a movie about the most common social- religious issue told in a very unique and special way.
Delhi 6's protagonist Roshan(Abhishek Bachchan) is an American born Indian residing in the city of New York. He decides on coming to India with his grandmother(Waheeda Rahman)following her bad health who desires to stay in Chandni Chowk of Delhi in her last years of her life. Here is where he meets Bittu(Sonam Kapoor) the daughter of an old family acquaintance who simply is the typical bubbly-traditional chandni chowk gal. Roshan goes on to experience warmth of the people of Chandni Chowk and the whole new culture. He too comes across the whole news saga regarding the "Kaala Bandar" or the "Black Monkey" that has become the talk of the town after the attacks killing people and injuring a few.
Now, the above few events are the only things that take up the whole first half of the movie making it engaging in very few parts.
The movie goes on to show, how the lives of the people in Chandni Chowk are disrupted due to the communal violence following a Sadhu's advice of building a temple in place of a Masjid claiming that a temple existed in the same place as the Masjid years ago. During these events is when, Roshan falls for Bittu. The whole set of events following the violence that leads up to the climax is certainly something that cannot be explained just because of the unnecessary things that's added on to the movie. Just when you feel the movie is getting better with the flowing second half, climax hits you and hits you quite hard. The climax of the movie is something that Rakesh Ompraksh Mehra will be asked and re-asked from the numerous people in the film fraternity about why he chose on such a weak climax which is really dramatic and that is more of a thing,that's hard to digest following climax of RDB.
Rakesh Omprakash Mehra though has chosen an unique way to convey the message to the masses through the whole "Kaala Bandar" thing but again annoys the audience with the too much of "Kaala Bandar" in the first half and the whole "news flash" about it.
Though Abhishek Bachchan occupies most of the screen time does a good job. But the highlight is Sonam Kapoor, and she's delivered sincere honest acting which every viewer is sure to like. Waheeda Rahman too does justice to her character. Om Puri, Vijay Raaz, Pawan Malhotra and Divya Dutta are quite exceptional in the movie providing some humorous scenes in the movie. Atul Kulkarni is the one actor who is certainly not used to his best potential after his flawless performance in RDB.
The music of Delhi 6 is very good.
A.R.Rahman again scores, with an amazing album. "Masakali" being the most liked and hummed one.
Delhi 6 is definitely an average watch after all the expectations from Rakesh Omprakash Mehra. He fails to reach to the level of his own best RDB.
I will go with 7 out of 10 for Rakesh Omprakash Mehra's Delhi 6.
Could be your movie for the weekend.
Raghav
Movie Critic,
Writer's Lounge
Find more reviews here:
www.raghavthecritic.blogspot.com
Almost lost and almost recovered - Chapter 1
Thanx a bunch for the heart whelming comments on the prologue :)
CHAPTER - 1
Birth was my choice, I was here to stay
The name was their's and I gave away
------------
Maanu and her family were on a trip to Tanjore* for a ceremony at the family's temple in the suburbs of the city. It was habitual to visit the saivaite* Brahadeehswara temple* against authentic vaishnavite* granny's words, before reaching the family's temple. The divinity and grandeur of the Brahadeeswara temple had never ceased to captivate Maanu. This was her 15th visit to Tanjore as far as she could remember and still she marveled at the sheer genius of Raja Raja Chola*. The 65 meter high central tower of the temple had never been once found to cast a shadow during the noon time. Such was the architectural excellence of the ancient Tamil rulers and Raja Raja Chola was no exception. She used to stare at the sculptures, the epics carved on the walls, the temple elephant, the mammoth sized Nandi* made of stone, the channels around the temple that were once the home of crocodiles for protection from enemies and the vast expanse of the temple corridor. She could now imagine the supremacy of the Chola rule. Many thanks to Shivaji ganeshan* (What an actor! ) for enacting Raja Raja Chola in the movie she had happened to watch the previous day.
Chandran's family temple was located on the remote yet authentic village of Pillayarpatti on the outskirts of Tanjore city. Maanu had always loved the walk through the narrow yet clean streets of the village. She would stop for a hot cup of Horlicks at Indira aunty's home and would finish the breakfast at Kannan uncle's. Devi's grand pa would take both the girls for a visit to his rice mill. Every family in the village was a relative of hers unlike the one back home in Coimbatore* where the colonies were an assortment of immigrants from the rest of Tamilnadu and Kerala*.
Chandran's family temple was located on the remote yet authentic village of Pillayarpatti on the outskirts of Tanjore city. Maanu had always loved the walk through the narrow yet clean streets of the village. She would stop for a hot cup of Horlicks at Indira aunty's home and would finish the breakfast at Kannan uncle's. Devi's grand pa would take both the girls for a visit to his rice mill. Every family in the village was a relative of hers unlike the one back home in Coimbatore* where the colonies were an assortment of immigrants from the rest of Tamilnadu and Kerala*.
Shanti was all pride for her 21 year old daughter. She had been the most obedient and understanding child ever since her kindergarten days.
She was a voracious reader of novels like Shanti and was also a "where is my newspaper" kind like Chandran.
She was a theist when Shanti recited stories from the Mahabharata and would turn an atheist like Chandran while condemning blind faiths.
Her eyes and ears resembled that of Shanti and she also had a dimple in the chin, a trait she had inherited from Chandran.
Maanu, almost a dad's girl and almost that of mom's as well.
Shanti's memories swirled 21 years back when herself and Chandran had visited Chandran's family temple for the first time on account of Maanu's naming ceremony. Chandran had a desire to name the baby "Naagi" in memoir of the guardian angel of the family, a sacred serpent who was called "Nagamma" in south India. But Shanti wished to name her baby "Maanasa" after a brave snake godess.
"Shuklam bharatharam vishnum
shashi varnam chathur bhujam
Prasanna vadhanam dhyayae
Sarva vignobha shantayae"
The priest had started off with the ceremony.
Eventually Shanti whispered "Naaga maanasa" thrice into the ears of the 1 month old baby as the temple bells were rung by the kith and kin.
"Naaga Maanasa" whispered Chandran and fed her a spoonful of sugar syrup.
"Naaga Maanasa" whispered Shanti's brother. Spoonful of sugar syrup again.
"Naaga Maanasa" whispered Chandran's sister. Another spoonful.
---------
Tanjore - The capital of ancient Chola empire
Saivaites - A sect of Hindus who worship Lord Shiva
Brahadeeswara temple - A temple situated at the heart of Tanjore, dedicated to Lord Shiva
Vaishnavites - Another sect of Hindus who worship Lord Vishnu
Raja Raja Chola - the emperor who built the Brahadeeshwara temple
Nandi - A sacred Ox statue facing Lord Shiva in the temples. It is believed that Lord Shiva travel on this Ox.
Shivaji Ganeshan - A renowned Tamil actor. A recipient of the Chevalier award.
Coimbatore - The Manchester of South India
Kerala - A beautiful south Indian province with Malayalam as the provincial language.
StepMAN Fans Message Box
Plz leave your comments for the StepMAN image (courtesy: John Kingsley) and the theme music launch here.
Hail StepMAN!
Hail StepMAN!
The chronicles of Greeting.
The whole evening of February 19th, 2009, we (Uzra & Asbah) pondered over the eternal mystery of greetings. And in the ordeal of Thinking, the less-common-trait-in-us, many questions dared raising their heads in our minds. Wayward random questions like ;
1) What is Greeting?
2) How important it is to greet the other person in first place?
2) What is the importance of sweetly greeting others? spicing it with a smile ?
3) How about a prayer is offered as greeting?
4) why not rebelling from the usual "hey" or "hi" , “hello” etc?
(In the confusion we forgot that we had repeated the question no 2, twice and asked 5 questions instead of 4, have you overlooked too ?? ;) lol! recheck)
We brainstormed with heads in hands, eyes on sky and gray matterial consuming at the speed of light! and in the process when the three hundred fifty seventh minute lapsed, a miracle happened!
A vivid (Shocking-) Pink figure appeared to be reeling in air, under the sky and above the ground. And even before we could raise the slogan of “yayy Stepman!!! Superheroes ka baap", That figure landed in his So-Very-Traditional-way-to-land, head down and legs up!
It took him solid three minutes and forty five seconds to figure out why the sky is beneath his feet and to decide which way to stand (legs up or head !) and another bunch of four minntes and 50 seconds to understand what we were saying (we had to repeat each word thrice and each line twice to let him engulf and assimilate the "dilemma")
It was then, when he uttered a 'hi', (or was it 'Hello'??) we realized what was consuming our thought-energy. Yes, Greetings.
And while the realization was going on, he revealed the 'why-had-he-decended-down', because we were staring at him asking for help (remember we've inculcated the habit of thinking by looking up at the sky). We apologised by clearning the fact that two of us were enough help for each other and that we owed him gratitude. And the busy super-hero flew off to find other needers of help :P
and we got back to the thought, generally we greet with a "hey" or "hi" which if translated in hindi or Urdu would mean 'oyay' or 'abay oo' very much unethical and inconvinient for a traditional people like us
and we're so againt the idea of abusing friends just for the sake of it, (we over heard a collegue accousting her best friend as 'oh kameeni' (oh you moron), and we grieved!)
There is a very clear limit in between friends and enemies and we believe that it should be honoured and preferred, and treating both in a same way would prolly spoil the difference!
Lets be innovative and lets learn different ways of greeting our best people, and that is obviously, with love.
Afrikaans: Goeie More = Hello
Arabic: Marhaba = Hello
Malaysia: Selamat Datang = Welcome
Chinese: Ni Hao! = Hello
Farsi: Assalamualikum = May Peace be upon you!
French: Bonjour = Hello.
Greek: Geia sou = Hello
Irish: Dia duit = Hello
Japanese: Ohio = Hi
Latin: Salve = Hello
Nepali/Indian: Namaste = Hello
Pidgin English: Gude = Hello
Portuguese: Ola = Hi
Spanish: ¡Hola! = Hi
Vietnamese: Chao = Hello
so, here it is now, tell us what do you all think about it, because personally we dont like 'HELLo' you greeting someone with a HELL? tsk! but then, thats strictly our opinion :)
PS. Thanks to StepMan for being help :D
wishes and prayers!
Think innovative,
because, An !dea can change a lounge ;)
February 19, 2009
What If I'm Not Around Anymore?
What if I’m not around anymore?
Will the mornings seem incomplete?
Will you miss my essence when you awaken?
Will the dew feel like needles on your feet?
What if I’m not around anymore?
Will an hour feel, like one whole day?
Will your heart pine, to hear my own?
Will you look for me when I’ve gone away?
What if I’m not around anymore?
Will you wish you were by my side?
Will your eyes search for mine again?
Will your thoughts want my heart to confide?
What if I’m not around anymore?
Will your lips yearn for mine to be near?
Will you feel lost without me to guide?
Will your laughter then be a tear?
What if I’m not around anymore?
Will the blue sky feel darkened to you?
Will you, a star, look for me, the moon?
Or Will you find another star anew?
Image: Purple Couple by Sabri Andi
Her Love (SI3L)
Inspired by Pratibha's Story: His Love
HE told what he would never do, just to create hatred for himself in her and he succeeded. Her love for him could only hear his words but could not see the letter from the Embassy hidden in his back pocket. She slapped him, cried and ran away out of his sight; as he wished!
HE told what he would never do, just to create hatred for himself in her and he succeeded. Her love for him could only hear his words but could not see the letter from the Embassy hidden in his back pocket. She slapped him, cried and ran away out of his sight; as he wished!
His Love (Story in 3 lines)
she waited for him for more than an hour before he turned up. He was aloof and silent,more than usual.The only word she heard were "I loved you but not now,now i love her money more than you".
Love at First Sight!
Riding through the woods,
Breeze, brushing my face,
Trees flying past in a blur,
My spirit free in this place!
Through the mist swirling around,
The trunks of magnificent trees,
I see you emerge slowly,
And time seems to freeze!
I rein in my steed sharp,
Astonished by the heavenly sight,
Mesmerized by the divine vista,
You seem an angel in flight!
Golden locks adorn your countenance,
Windswept, damp from the morning dew,
Elegance and beauty abundant,
As you caress the flowers blue!
I wish I was that flower,
I wish I was that breeze,
Touch you, feel you I would,
With unbridled glee!
I watch you from this distance,
Under the armour my heart beats,
Now I know why they say,
Love at first sight, this is!
ये है अपनी दुनिया
कई रंगों से सज़ा है ये दरबार ,
हर रंग का अपना है अंदाज़ मेरे यार
सब भरते है रंग अपनी कला से यहाँ ,
खुबसूरत लगता है विभिन् रंगों से सज़ा ये जहाँ
सब मिलकर करते है यहाँ बात ,
पुरी कोशिश है सबकी के ये lounge बने blogs का सरताज
कई धुरंधर योद्धा है यहाँ ,
सबकी अपनी कला है यहाँ
stepman जैसा बहादुर है यहाँ
तो arjun जैसा व्यंगकार भी है यहाँ
काजल से सुनने को मिलती है प्यारी कविताये यहाँ
तो pretty सुनती जीवन के हसीन पल यहाँ
Tan की बात भी है निराली
aarti भी लिखती है कहानी सायानी
राघव जैसा फ़िल्म समीक्षक है यहाँ
तो भार्गव जेसा फ़िल्म का ज्ञानी भी हैं यहाँ
हर कोई है यहाँ लाजवाब,
मुश्किल में देते है एक दसूरे का साथ
लिखेतु ,asabh,संदीप का करता हूँ मैं शुक्रिया अदा
के उन्होंने मुझे इस प्यारी सी दुनिया का सदस्य बनने का मौका दिया ।
हर रंग का अपना है अंदाज़ मेरे यार
सब भरते है रंग अपनी कला से यहाँ ,
खुबसूरत लगता है विभिन् रंगों से सज़ा ये जहाँ
सब मिलकर करते है यहाँ बात ,
पुरी कोशिश है सबकी के ये lounge बने blogs का सरताज
कई धुरंधर योद्धा है यहाँ ,
सबकी अपनी कला है यहाँ
stepman जैसा बहादुर है यहाँ
तो arjun जैसा व्यंगकार भी है यहाँ
काजल से सुनने को मिलती है प्यारी कविताये यहाँ
तो pretty सुनती जीवन के हसीन पल यहाँ
Tan की बात भी है निराली
aarti भी लिखती है कहानी सायानी
राघव जैसा फ़िल्म समीक्षक है यहाँ
तो भार्गव जेसा फ़िल्म का ज्ञानी भी हैं यहाँ
हर कोई है यहाँ लाजवाब,
मुश्किल में देते है एक दसूरे का साथ
लिखेतु ,asabh,संदीप का करता हूँ मैं शुक्रिया अदा
के उन्होंने मुझे इस प्यारी सी दुनिया का सदस्य बनने का मौका दिया ।
friends this poem i wrote for all the members of the Lounge
i write some of the members name in this poem
now iam not able to cover all the members name so if someone got hurt from this
sorry for that person.
The night (Part IV-Concluding Part)
(First, apologies for having taken so long to post the concluding part. I was almost done with it when the poetry contest was announced and the lounge was closed. Then when it reopened, I got busy with college. Anway, for those of you who have been following this series and those of you who would like to read the previous parts, you can find them here, here, and here. )
Yes, indeed it was—the voice of Shashank. Just last week, on her birthday, Shashank had gifted her a cell-phone. She was very happy. She’d asked him to record his voice on it and had set it as her ring-tone. So every time she received a call from him, it was as if he was calling out her name. Neetu had been shaken back to reality… Shashank was calling her, and she needed to answer her phone.
“Hello Shashank…” she muttered into the phone, while the stranger stood beside her.
There was no answer.
“Shashank… Hello, Shashank… is it you?” Neetu stammered into the phone. Shashank had never bothered to call her ever before. There had been many instances when he’d not returned home at night; he’d come back the next morning, pick up some more files, bathe, change, have breakfast, and leave without uttering a single word or even looking at his wife. Sometimes, she wondered if he was a workaholic robot! She’d tried to kindle love for him in her heart. Alas! All her efforts had been in vain. But the question remained: “why had he called up tonight? And why wasn’t he answering?” The question made her uncomfortable and her stomach cringed.
“Hello…” a different voice answered. “Hello… who’s this?” Neetu asked. “May I know who I am speaking to please,” the stern voice said matter-of-factly. “This is Mrs. Neetu Sahni, wife of Mr. Shashank Sahni, whose phone this is,” replied Neetu, starting to get worried.
“Well, Mrs. Sahni, I am afraid I have some very bad news for you,” the stranger said with deathly seriousness. Neetu could hear her heart thumping wildly within her chest.
“Mrs. Sahni, your husband has been found dead in his office this evening. Apparently, he’d lost all his money and had mortgaged his house and business in a bid at the race last week. So, he committed suicide this evening. There’s a suicide note here as well claiming the same. We have started the investigations. May I please come and meet you tomorrow to hand over the body and complete some formalities? Mrs. Sahni…. hello… are you there?”
Neetu was frozen. She’d just lost her husband forever, and she had no wealth or house to fall back on. Everything was lost. She started to feel dizzy. As she was about to fall, someone held her, held her close, comforting her. She clung on to him tightly as the world turned into a blur.
“Neetu…” she heard her name escape from the stranger’s lips. That was the first word he’d uttered since their chance encounter. “Neetu… are you okay?” Hearing him utter her name injected some strength into her, and she composed herself. Tears filled her eyes, but they were not tears of sadness or loss. They were tears of relief, tears of freedom—freedom from being imprisoned in a relationship that had killed the woman within. It was as if Shashank’s death had given a new lease of life to the woman in her. She felt nothing for Shashank or his wealth—both had never mattered to her, and she was, in some way, thankful that both had gone away from her life for good.
She looked into the stranger’s eyes, her own eyes full of hope, love and some apprehension. The stranger seemed to understand: he tightened his grip on her as if to reassure her that he’d never let her go, and looked back lovingly into those dark brown eyes of hers. Yes, finally, she had found love, even if in the most unlikely of places and under the most unlikely circumstances. She didn’t even know his name. But deep inside, she knew that they were meant to be. And they would be, together, forever. She closed her eyes to let the feeling, the moment sink in. From the secure confines of his arms, she opened her eyes to the sky… the first few rays of the sun were beginning to grace the sky. Love had finally dawned… after that night!
(PS: I had initially thought of a rather sad ending. But something urged me to try and end it on a happy note. I hope I have been able to do what I set out to. This is the happiest end I could think of. If you think you could come up with a better ending, I'd be glad to know. Thanks for stopping by... I hope it was an enjoyable read!)
Love is in the air .. 2
** All characters are imaginary and the pictures are used to relate to the actual scenes.
To read Part1, click here
To read Part1, click here
It was already 5.30 pm. She knew that there was no one at home. Today she was very happy and excited. She entered her bungalow and rushed to take shower.After 10 minutes ,she got ready to get dressed up. She wanted to look like a princess before Arush. She selected a pair of shoes from her shoe box.Her eyes scanned through the closet where all her dresses were arranged sequentially. She glanced thorugh few clothes ranging from jeans to salwars,but she was not happy at all. Later on her mind recollected the fact that Arush loved blue color. She soon selected a blue dress and the matching necklaces and ornaments.She straightened her hair through a comb and cleansed her face with soap and water. She beautified her eyes by applying eyeliner and thickened her eyelashes with a mascara. She was ready for the meet. This is the first time she was going to meet some one whom she had never met before. She never knew how he looked , wheter ugly or good. She never knew how tall he was .She just wanted to meet this person who promised to be with her forever.