tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40657687806664893582024-03-13T08:41:56.003+05:30Everything RandomAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-68390254194990080092012-11-24T22:21:00.003+05:302012-11-24T22:21:42.001+05:30Saffron State<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In the Saffron state</div>
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As his body lay on the pyre</div>
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even the skies burned saffron to pay their respect </div>
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<br /></div>
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A million lives touched</div>
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He lived his life by a simple code</div>
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"Be proud to call yourself Marathi</div>
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and be proud to call Maharashtra your abode"</div>
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<br /></div>
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Misunderstood, misinterprated, misquoted,</div>
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Never underestimated, feared, respected,</div>
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We never need to thank him for all he did for for</div>
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For in a true Marathi household</div>
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We never thank our family for being there for us whenever we need</div>
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<br /></div>
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For many he gave strength and hope</div>
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When things looked bleak, he made us look harder</div>
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We may have lost the father of our nation years before</div>
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but today we lost our grandfather</div>
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<br /></div>
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Adopted an entire state, took care of each and every one</div>
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He brought people out from the cold, and right into his home</div>
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Helped people selflessly, loved unconditonally,</div>
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He dared to speak what everyone was too afraid to do themselves</div>
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He dared to speak out every Marathi mind</div>
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<br /></div>
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In the Saffron state</div>
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As the tiger roars no more,</div>
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What would happen to his house, we now suspect</div>
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As his body lay on the pyre </div>
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even the skies burned saffron to pay their respect </div>
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In the Saffron state</div>
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ed lithium</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-82978767427687314982012-09-16T01:31:00.001+05:302012-09-16T01:34:17.202+05:30the man never too shy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KgFWJR509EU/UFTfMwEY6bI/AAAAAAAAAz8/FZz9oRIdXGM/s1600/poet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KgFWJR509EU/UFTfMwEY6bI/AAAAAAAAAz8/FZz9oRIdXGM/s1600/poet.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
a man in his troubling time<br />
no road to turn to, no corner to hide<br />
turns to his faithful rhymes<br />
stores his feelings deep inside<br />
<br />
using a paper and indelible ink<br />
his hand races through space and time<br />
pens down what he feels, and what he thinks<br />
only place where the truth is never a crime<br />
<br />
men sing priases of his work<br />
as he crawls into his empty bed<br />
'what an imagination he must have<br />
for the man in his work would rather be dead!'<br />
<br />
stop an aching soul and heart<br />
a conscience with a dirty deed<br />
and better efforts have been made by men<br />
for no merry man can write a rhyme<br />
for that you need<br />
always a man who is never too shy with his pen<br />
<br />
ed lithium</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-18334207209697784672012-09-11T21:31:00.002+05:302012-09-11T21:35:06.205+05:30Drowned me to life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rkr0COWezxM/UE9hLTtsmkI/AAAAAAAAAyU/cwpSJNiuERw/s1600/biodiversity-water-quality-pollution_84.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rkr0COWezxM/UE9hLTtsmkI/AAAAAAAAAyU/cwpSJNiuERw/s320/biodiversity-water-quality-pollution_84.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I came up to breathe </div>
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air that was never loyal to me</div>
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Early gray Bombay morning </div>
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the odd winter chill</div>
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And then i submerged</div>
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into pearly waters still</div>
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and forgot the air, meant to decieve</div>
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the world went blank,</div>
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and my ears heard</div>
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nothing but the gargled voices of the Piscean world</div>
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no angry voices, no disappointed stares</div>
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no person decietful, no liar who never cared</div>
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<br /></div>
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my lungs seemed to struggle, but i was a free man</div>
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my heart pounded faster, as fast it can</div>
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and then i saw light, and i was at peace</div>
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under the water, my soul on a lease</div>
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<br /></div>
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i felt so peaceful, submerged and helpless</div>
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i was home now, and love in my head</div>
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i stopped trying to come up for air</div>
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i was now in a world with no care</div>
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and i drowned me to death </div>
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ed lithium</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-60242710578217850862012-09-10T01:25:00.002+05:302012-09-10T01:25:30.925+05:30My first review!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
This was my first review a couple of years ago, in one of my friend's company newsletter( the editor wrote this). Just came across this and wanted to share. And although the friend is no longer a friend, the review still makes me feel real good!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Modern Humpty Dumpty<br />
<br />
<br />
Being an avid book reader, I often spend my weekends at Crosswords, reading/ buying new books. This weekend as I browsed through, my eyes fell on a new book on the shelves. It was titled ‘Humpty Dumpty’s Great Fall’. It was the title that appealed to me and a glance revealed it was a poetry book. I don’t generally read many poems, but the innovative title of the book inspired me.<br />
Viraj Muthye, aka, Ed Lithium is the author of the book. ‘Humpty dumpty’s Great Fall’ is his first published work. On seeing the title, one is instantly reminded of the famous nursery rhyme ‘Humpty Dumpty’. But this is not a nursery rhyme book. Reading just the first poem (the title of which is the title of the book) convinced me of it. The title is apt as it talks not of the nursery rhyme, but the political unrest and tension in the world while the original rhyme was composed. It is a catchy title and creates a curiosity about the book inspiring one to pick it up. The book consists of around 80 poems. Most of them are heavy reads with an underlying meaning. The poems talk in depth the human psychology and how our mind functions even in the most complex of situations. There are poems on satire and ironies, follies of human behaviour, etc. In modern terms, one could call the poems ‘Goth’ or ‘dark’ as they are morbid and give a sense of déjà vu. But not all poems are dark. There are even a couple of light hearted, fun reads. Whatever the poem, they definitely capture one’s mind and the end often leaves a smile on the face, making you wonder.<br />
I liked most of the poems but two appealed the most to me; Humpty Dumpty and Missle Paav. Missle Paav is a poem on the all famous missal-paav of Mumbai. Just as Mumbaikars are relishing a plate, missiles fly overhead and there is destruction. The poem ends on the note, Raju, ek missle paav, extra kanda marke! This poem aptly outlines the state of the world today and the chaos we live in. All poems teach us something and set our thinking gear in motion.<br />
The poet, Viraj, is an Indian pursuing his MSc at North-western University, Chicago. The book is a reflection of his thoughts and how the young today see the world. Such indepth knowledge and understanding of the human psychology is difficult to find in such a young age. But the book is a sure winner, one that creates the right amount of intrigue and satisfies curiosity. A book difficult to resist. One that leaves you wanting more. Viraj has a sure winner in his first book!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-69103451026613836182012-09-10T01:18:00.002+05:302012-09-10T01:18:56.088+05:30the beast<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
The Beast<br />
<br />
<br />
The copter swayed dangerously over the tall trees, which were unlike any botanical encounters ever witnessed. These trees (they were called trees since this word came closest to describing these structures) stood tall and broad, and were a fiendish shade of purple that had orange wavy fuzzy lines smeared across its entirety. They seemed to be rooted and they seemed to be non motile. No one knew what these actually were and what these trees capable were of. The pilot refused to go any lower, out of undiluted fright and a selfish, yet justified fear of death.<br />
<br />
“We will have to drop him from this point; anything below is an unidentified threat to ourselves!”<br />
<br />
“But this is thirty feet high! He could break his back!”<br />
<br />
“We do not have a choice! Call up the quarters!”<br />
<br />
“It’s not possible; it would take a day for the message to reach and a day to interpret their reply. We have no choice!”<br />
<br />
The man in shackles was still confused, dazed and unfocussed. The sedative had been too strong. He tried his best to recall how he got there but he soon realised that he had bigger problems at hand, when the two big guys in white suits pushed him out of the copter. He embraced the ground with a wrenching thud and slowly his vision faded away, as he passed out from the pain, and he could see the copter fly away into the horizon and soon become a speck that vanished into an orange sky. With that sight, the man in shackles closed his eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A loud beeping woke him up violently, as he tossed and turned till the noise dimmed away. He woke up to a sight he had never encountered before, neither in his dreams nor in his nightmares.<br />
<br />
He was surrounded by tall purple structures that reminded him of trees and yet made him very much aware that they were not. Purple and orange with structures like leaves sticking out from every where, of menacing random shapes that gave the scariest of shadows on the ground, made him aware that he was in a place he did not know. Their psychedelic patterns made him a bit confused and he had to sit down on the ground, which he found was rather soft and fluffy, unlike land he had seen. This brown soft bed of sand explained why he did not break his neck from the fall. It did not explain why he was there, where he was and who were the two men who had pushed him out. Right now he was busy wondering what the loud noise was that woke him up.<br />
<br />
The noise appeared again for a split second but soon he heard a man speak.<br />
<br />
“I am glad to see you are alright.”<br />
<br />
He was startled and looked around everywhere for someone but he could not see any one who could have said that.<br />
<br />
“I am not around you, but I can see you. I can see what you see and feel what you feel. I can hear sound which reach your ears and smells that your nose picks up. I am the one who has sent you here.”<br />
<br />
“Who are you? Why have you sent me here?”<br />
<br />
“I believe you don’t know who you are, so I will answer that first. May be this will refresh your memory.<br />
<br />
A year ago, you were convicted of murdering three innocent children when you were experiencing a high of heroine. You do not recall committing this crime, but enough evidence exists to prove you have done it. You were sentenced to death by hanging, for ending the lives of three innocent children who happened to be around you on that day.”<br />
<br />
It suddenly started making sense as the man sat down and remembered all of this.<br />
<br />
It had been an inexplicable emotion and a state of mind he could never have seen coming, when he had committed the heinous crime. He knew he was guilty and had decided to not protest falsely. He knew that his heroin addiction had taken over his life and changed him into a man he now barely knew. A death sentence was well deserved and he knew that that was the least he could be subjected to. He was on death row for two weeks when suddenly-<br />
<br />
“I see you seem to have remembered a bit. I hope you remember our little agreement.”<br />
<br />
A man had entered his cell, wearing a slick blue suit and light blue tie with a hideous Windsor knot. He took off his hat and placed it next to himself as he sat down on the bed.<br />
<br />
“Inmate 304, you have been sentenced to death by hanging in three days. You stand to lose your life because you deserve to die for your crime. You will go to hell for what you did. I am here because not to help you, but because I need your help. I am not, in any circumstance, promising you help out of your death sentence. I will personally watch you be hanged myself. But I do promise you an attempt at redemption. If you do take my offer, you probably might have a chance to help humanity, if you remember what the word means.”<br />
<br />
The agreement had been mysteriously strange. Somewhere in the foothills of the Himalayas, there had been an incident which needs to be mentioned here, for this determines the reason behind the inmate’s fate.<br />
<br />
“There was a village at the very foothills of the Mighty Mountains, which was a witness to the incident. A fiery red fire ball seemed to soar across the sky, lightening the stars and space with enigmatic green and orange colours that persisted for days after the incident. The red fire ball seemed to come down with such a strong force that it caused a massive avalanche that wiped out the village and took down every thing in its path. Half of the villagers died in the avalanche, but the rest managed to survive and took shelter in a small village, not far from where their village was. Authorities were informed and when they reached the foothills, they were unable to describe what they saw. The villagers gave an accurate description of what happened during that night and the authorities did not need much time to conclude that it was in fact, a meteor that had collided with the earth. The strange things; however was the sheer size of the meteor which was left behind.<br />
<br />
You see, inmate, the meteor was almost as tall as Everest and almost 20 kilometres wide. Nothing like this had ever been seen before.<br />
<br />
The authorities were baffled. A meteor this size should have crushed the planet, but for some reason did not. No one dared to go near the huge meteor. Do you know why?”<br />
<br />
<br />
The inmate had a feeling that he was about to find out for himself.<br />
<br />
“Look around you inmate, have you ever seen anything like this before? Do you not believe that this place had life? Do you not now believe that extraterrestrials exist? That there is life in the universe and that it had come to us?”<br />
<br />
“But what am I doing here?”<br />
<br />
“The last twenty scientists who were brave enough to explore this meteor disappeared mysteriously. We have lost twenty of the most brilliant minds our country could have produced.”<br />
<br />
“And that is why now you trying to send the most demented minds you can find. Like lambs on a leash, bait on a string.”<br />
<br />
“That is correct inmate, and that was our little agreement. We do not need intelligent people to collect information”<br />
<br />
“You need bodies!”<br />
<br />
“And that is exactly what you are for us- a body which we need to send surveillance on the meteor, to stop wasting intelligent minds, and thinkers, and people whom we need to save this planet, should the time come. We do not know what lies on this massive rock. But whatever it is, it has killed twenty people. There have been no reports of any thing leaving the rock, the Army has confirmed, but we do not want to unleash these creatures on to our planet without knowing what their intentions are. We need intelligence.<br />
<br />
We have attached video surveillance cameras and equipments to your body, which we are monitoring from here. We have sent twenty sicker, twisted death row inmates at various locations on this rock and we need your help to see what is happening on this massive meteor.<br />
<br />
I do not expect to see you alive at the end of your mission, but you were meant to die any ways. At least with our help, you have a chance to help humanity by helping us figure out what is happening on that rock before they decide to step out themselves.”<br />
<br />
<br />
Suddenly this all makes sense. I am expendable. I can be easily sacrificed. The courts decided that my mistake was too grave for a chance to redeem myself. May be this one mission might help me do some good, try to redeem a little part of me that is waiting to die after that fateful day…<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
“But how do you expect me to move with these shackled still on?”<br />
<br />
There was loud buzz again and the shackled opened up them.<br />
<br />
“I am sorry, I almost forgot about that. Do you know what you are supposed to do inmate?”<br />
<br />
“I have no clue whatsoever.”<br />
<br />
“We don’t ourselves. Wander around, look around, give us any thing and everything you can see, smell, touch and hear. We need to know any thing, because right now, we do not know much.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The inmate stood up and looked around. It was magnificent. The meteor, which he would have never guessed, spanned miles around him and at a point in front of him started climbing towards the sky and vanished into the clouds. Around him, he saw his own nightmare, reminding him vividly of the bad acid episode he had had close to fifteen years ago.<br />
<br />
He saw around him the heinous purple trees that seemed to outgrow everything in its path. There were bright yellow bushes at the feet of the trees and seemed to cower in front of the monstrous structures.<br />
<br />
The ground, brown and soft, seemed to have been made of some unimaginable porous clay like material that seemed to bend inwards every time he stepped on it. It seemed to wobble slightly, making him very uneasy about walking.<br />
<br />
He wondered how the huge meteor had not managed to chip off even one rock from the Mighty Mountains, let alone not destroy his planet.<br />
<br />
He walked slowly into the tree herd and he realised that it got darker by the minute. The tree stopped sunlight in its path and made it really difficult to see what was ahead. The yellow shrubs seemed to distinctly glow in the darkness and guide the way. However not all the shrubs glowed, and the ones that did seemed to do so together, almost as if lighting distinct paths along the forest.<br />
<br />
He walked towards the point where the rock suddenly started to shoot up high and he knew that he was not going to climb any such thing. He turned around and started walking behind. Almost instantaneously, the shrubs which were glowing before stopped glowing and a new set of shrubs started glowing, changing the path to a more eastward direction. This startled the inmate.<br />
<br />
The meteor is telling me where I should be going. This is anything but good…..<br />
<br />
<br />
He decided to try to trace back his path and not follow the shrubs. He had a very strong feeling, that wherever this path went, nothing good was waiting for him. He stepped into the darkness and tried his best to find his way out of the maze. It was just one step into the darkness when he shrieked and jumped back into the light. Something had slithered onto his feet and grasped one of his ankles loosely. It had let go immediately and he realised that the meteor was telling him to stay out of the darkness. What it was, he did not see and he did not know. He did not want to find out what was lurking behind him in the darkness.<br />
<br />
The less I know, the better my chances…..<br />
<br />
He was glad that the new path was leading him away from the towering rock and that he would not have to climb this dangerous slope.<br />
<br />
A few feet into the path, he stumbled and fell down on his face. He got up, rubbing his knee that was now bleeding. It seemed weird. The ground was really soft and it was highly suspect that the ground could have cut his knee. He bent down and tried grabbing thin air all around him because he could not see the ground. There was a rather menacing cold mist that had not covered the ground and the shrubs could not light the ground any more. He was about to give up when his hand felt something.<br />
<br />
He picked it up and went near a lighted shrub to see what it is.<br />
<br />
“Dr. Longnecker, CIA”<br />
<br />
It was an identification badge and the inmate realised that this was one of the twenty scientists who had gone missing on the rock. A closer look made him gasp and he threw the badge away and stepped back. He looked at his hands again to check if he was seeing things. He was not. It was, without doubt, blood.<br />
<br />
He did not have much time to think because he again stumbled down and this time he fell flat on something really soft. He was face to face with a man, lying dead on his back, face mauled beyond recognition. His white suit was drenched with blood and giant claw marks were visible all across his chest. Even though his face was scratched beyond human resemblance, his lips, or whatever remained of them, clearly showed a sign of terror and trepidation that sent the inmates heart beating vigorously. Each claw mark however was distinct. The claw marks seemed to have left a bright yellow substance on the body that glowed just like the shrubs. And as the mist cleared away a little he could see the disfigured face glow with the same yellow that the shrubs were using to light his way. He did not have to think twice before realising this was Dr. Longnecker, but how he had met this gruesome end, he did not know. He realised that he was now no longer alone on this rock and that some thing out there had attacked and killed Dr. Longnecker. <br />
<br />
<br />
I am not alone….. What if it was that thing that grabbed my leg that killed Dr. Longnecker? Or is it another beast?<br />
<br />
He ran away from the body, sure that the claw marks were definitely suggestive of an inhuman force. No human could have managed to rip apart a human being like this. No human could have left the yellow markings behind.<br />
<br />
The authorities know something about this. This is a suicide mission.<br />
<br />
<br />
He started running aimlessly, just following the yellow shrubs as he went.<br />
<br />
May be Dr. Longnecker did not follow the lights. If I just follow the path I might have a chance.<br />
<br />
He was sure that this was the reason because the weird beast had grabbed him when he had tried to go his own way. He decided to stick to the lighted path.<br />
<br />
<br />
It was a mile before he came to a stop.<br />
<br />
In front of him was a huge cave. The shrubs had not started to dim away and he could see that the rock wanted him to enter the cave. He was not sure what was inside the cave but he was sure that if he stayed in the darkness he would end up like Dr. Longnecker.<br />
<br />
The cave was at least eighty feet high, and extremely dark. He could not see anything in front of him. The rocks in the cave however were extremely weird and different from the other rocks on the meteor. They glowed just like the bushed and they seemed to show him the path inside the cave. He was not sure if he was imagining it but the rocks seemed to be producing a strange humming noise, much like a demented didgeridoo. It produced a strange ritualistic rhythm that seemed to put him into a state of constant fear. The noise started to echo as he went inside the cave and suddenly he knew that he could hear chanting.<br />
<br />
<br />
Is there any one inside this cave? May be I should turn back…..<br />
<br />
He decided almost instantaneously against that. He knew that his best chances were in the light of the cave and he knew even they looked slim.<br />
<br />
He started walking towards a tunnel that seemed to be getting smaller and smaller and the rocks now were glowing intensely. He stood for a minute, gasping for air. The cave seemed to be suffocating and the air seemed to be running out. It was then when he heard footsteps behind him.<br />
<br />
His heart skipped a beat.<br />
<br />
His first instinct was to run but he realised that whatever it was he could not out run it. The foot steps were slow and from far away, echoing in the huge cave. He wondered if one of the scientists had survived, but he soon realised he was just trying to make himself feel better. The foot steps were dull and heavy, and no human could have made it. He tried to wipe his forehead which was dripping with sweat when he realised that he was covered in the glowing material that was on the dead body. He tried to frantically rub it off. He saw that all of his clothes were covered in that as well. He wanted to hide somewhere behind the rocks but the yellow glow was giving him away. He heard the foot steps getting louder and louder by the minute and then, finally, he heard a loud moan.<br />
<br />
<br />
It’s the beast!<br />
<br />
<br />
The moan was unearthly and bloodcurdling. It seemed to be of neither animal nor man. Whatever it was, it was not happy. The moans got louder as the foot steps now picked up pace. A low pitched roar followed each foot step and the inmate knew that whatever it was was now running towards him. He had to get the entire glow off of him and hide quickly.<br />
<br />
It was then that he realised that his uniform, which he was wearing had a name tag on it. And suddenly, he realised that the beast was not the thing in the room he was more alarmed about.<br />
<br />
Dr. Longnecker, it read,<br />
<br />
And the inmate simply stopped doing everything he was. The moaning and the foot steps were getting louder but now they just drowned in the cave, in this confused scared feeling the inmate was trapped in. the rocks were now beating even faster, the rhythm catching up quickly, the chanting seemed louder, and the rocks glowed sporadically, matching the beat with every minute.<br />
<br />
And just like that the rocks stopped glowing and beating and the entire cave went silent.<br />
<br />
The only things audible were the menacing moan of the beast, the footsteps had stopped, and the inmate could feel the beast’s breath on his neck, and the inmate’s heart pounding like a drum. The inmate turned around. The cave did not let him see the beast, but he saw the yellow viscous substance dripping from two large canines and two grotesque claws.<br />
<br />
It took just a minute and it all ended as it began.<br />
<br />
Out of the darkness a monstrous claw came down on the inmate’s face, killing him on impact. The nails dug deep into his face and the claw ripped his face off. The inmate fell down with a thud and the beast sank his teeth into the inmate’s stomach, leaving a distinct yellow glow as he did.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>ATROCITY AT MANOR LABORATORIES<br />
<br />
July 5th, Cold Springs- Manor laboratories, a big name in dynamic psychiatric research, was shut down following the death of fellow researchers over development of an unethical compound.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The discovery of a new sedative, as declared in a press conference two years ago, earned the Manor laboratories much deserved fame and many national grants to study more about the compound. However reports had been leaking out that in spite of the many applications of this compound, worth a major part of the Manor revenue, there had been several unwanted side effects of the sedative, involving severe hallucinations, dementia and in one suspected case- coma. Manor laboratories however claim that this compound was going to be a quarter of the cost of the cheapest sedative on the market and was soon to replace every sedative in the country. They did not reveal the source of the compound and it’s considered to be a trade secret.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The compound seems to be most likely a plant extract, however the source of the plants and the region where it grows has been kept secret.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It had been suspected that Manor lab had been facing difficulties finding appropriate subjects for testing the drug on humans. Rumours soon began to spread of the use of mentally-ill patients from the neighbouring Manor asylum, also sun by the same board, and the use of test subjects against their will. These rumours however could never be proved and Manor lab declared in a press conference that the new sedative will be on for sale from the next year. They declared that only a few safety tests needed to be performed before capturing the market.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Manor lab had declared that all safety tests had been completed. However, Dr. Crew leaked out an outrageous piece of news that the laboratories had been incapable of finding healthy patients and, sure about their product’s safety, had decided to conduct trials within themselves. This is a highly frowned upon procedure which the lab suggested was their last alternative. They formed teams of 20 within themselves and the first team supposedly had undergone the procedure. No one could prove this allegation and Dr. Crew was suspended from work.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>However yesterday, the lab reporter 21 deaths of their researchers and refused to give out a statement regarding the cause of death. It was soon discovered that all 21 had died in an overdose of the new sedative, thus proving the rumours of testing the sedative on themselves. The side effects had been stronger than expected and the dosage had been wrong, leading to severe hallucinations that were beyond explanation. All 20 died an hour after the over-dose from vascular complications. Autopsies have been inconclusive.<br />
<br />
However the gruesome tale of Dr. Longnecker, one of the discoverers of the sedative, clawed out his own face before violently breaking the mirror in his room and using the shrapnel to carve out his face. All the time, the surveillance captured him screaming about the beast, which had been interestingly in the hallucinations of at least fifteen other subjects before they died. This came a shock for everyone since all 21 patients seemed to have undergone the similar hallucination. This seems to be beyond co-incidence and had bought into question the source of the sedative.<br />
This comes as an important event in the trial of Dr. Longnecker v/s the county of Cold Spring, where he was charged with the murder of three innocent children, while driving after taking heroine. The accident had killed the three children on the spot, leaving their mother injured. The out come of the trial was supposed to go in Dr. Longnecker’s favour; however the trial seems to have ended abruptly now. The sedative has been taken out of the product line, curiously dubbed, the Beast.<br />
<br />
Ed Lithium<br />
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-82008445456772935782012-09-10T00:19:00.001+05:302012-09-10T00:22:24.023+05:30strange world<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
its a strange strange world<br />
<br />
every country, national anthems on each breath<br />
<br />
one person fasting out of choice<br />
<br />
sounds louder than the muffled voices<br />
<br />
of a million people starving to death<br />
<br />
ed lithium</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-23828338199916263212012-05-07T20:28:00.000+05:302012-11-27T20:03:57.840+05:30The road ahead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The road ahead<br />
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When everything dims down<br />
And everyone walks away<br />
And every breath I take I need to make it count<br />
I will hold you by my side<br />
And take you by your hand<br />
And kiss you till you cant make a single sound<br />
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<br />
When we both feel tired and spent,<br />
And the road ahead seems too long<br />
All we will need is all we have<br />
And we'll have had it all along<br />
<br />
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ed lithium</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-4519289416368753622012-02-04T09:36:00.000+05:302012-02-04T09:42:44.755+05:30Rage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sM_B9EpOFoc/TyyvwvA-XSI/AAAAAAAAAlI/5ksWPEj-zr8/s1600/anger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sM_B9EpOFoc/TyyvwvA-XSI/AAAAAAAAAlI/5ksWPEj-zr8/s1600/anger.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Anger is rage with a cause<br />
Anger is rage for a reason<br />
Anger beyond anger<br />
is the reason for man's survival<br />
<br />
<b>angerisangerisangerisangerisangerisangerisangerisangerisangeris</b><br />
<b>angerisangerisangerisangerisangerisangerisangerisangerisgood</b><br />
<br />
And in today's world<br />
On a judgemental stage<br />
Men of peace do often get angry<br />
They never are victims of rage<br />
<br />
<b>sometimespeopleclosesttoyouwillhurtyouandtheywillhurtyouinwaysyouwillenever</b><br />
<b>recoverfromandyouwillhavenootherrecoursebuyttohatethemandforgivethematthesametime</b><br />
<b>angerisangerisangerisangerisgood</b><br />
<br />
Anger is not a thing of fools<br />
if anger is true<br />
if anger is pure<br />
Anger is an immaculate tool<br />
<br />
<b>itsdiffuclttoexpressyourselfwhenyoucantevensapceyourwordsbecauseyouar</b><br />
<b>esohorriblyangvryandfrustratedatpeoplefordoingtthingstoyouyouwishedwer</b><br />
<b>eneverdonetopanyoneyouknow</b><br />
<br />
An angry man is a discontent man<br />
is a man of wounds and scars<br />
is a man who sleeps not well at night<br />
stares back at nightly stars<br />
<br />
<b>itstoomuchtoexplaintoanyonewhatmakesyouryatnightwhatmakesyouthinkandnot</b><br />
<b>sleepandwhysometimesyoujustneedfriendsandhwyyousometimescantaffordtogetangry</b><br />
<br />
The purest emotion of them all<br />
when a man is truly a man<br />
True anger is always unbiased<br />
of the mighty human clan<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
ed lithium<br />
<div style="color: white;">
<br /></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-6004836750010899502012-01-20T18:47:00.000+05:302012-01-20T18:47:12.942+05:30Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-5415814048153518432011-12-28T10:57:00.000+05:302011-12-28T10:57:01.226+05:30Too much<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I think I have had too much. I am frustrated of complaining and writing about every problem I have. Sometimes you have to put your foot down and decide that it is enough.<br />
<br />
I think I might already be defeated. And it sucks.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-25148892920460854752011-12-16T18:21:00.002+05:302011-12-17T22:50:27.527+05:30Man on my edge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I see myself too clearly now</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And my heart aches, it’s tired of beating for a man who has
taken so many beatings himself</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My lungs rest in their sombre mood</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Why breathe for a man who can’t catch his own breath?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My eyes, they droop, and my eyelids rest in grimace</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hidden well between the wrinkles on my face</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What is left for me to see now, I have lost all courage to
see and observe</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The world spins quietly for me, a man who has lost his place
in the world</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And my tears seem to make my vision a bit blurred</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know deep down, there has to be a single last thread of
hope and joy, which I can cling to selfishly, unabashedly,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I don’t search, out of the fear of finding my own soul
shedding a tear</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The world can push me to a limit, which I cannot accept as
my own</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And after the limit, I am a free man, a wandered child, battered and grown</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ed lithium</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-15321219281256218562011-11-17T12:24:00.001+05:302011-11-17T12:24:56.514+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/3200706/everything-random?claim=6muqe23jdbj">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-52396967820945856352011-11-11T22:49:00.001+05:302011-11-12T16:34:35.963+05:30My Friend Grunting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
And then slowly my heart sunk. I woke up, and I hoped, like the end of all frightening stories today, there will be a twist in the tale, there will be a red herring, and I will not die. But this was all too real. And I knew I was minutes away from death.<br />
<br />
Days before, I had already died once. It would seem like good friends always come through for you, no matter what. But my good friends hid their heads in the sand once I bit the dust. I was left alone. And so I decided to make myself a new friend. Every one needs friend they can call their own. Some times, when the world deals you a bad hand, you have to assume the impossible is extremely probable.<br />
<br />
And so I sat down, and I stared at the wall endlessly for hours, neither blinking nor crying. And I felt sorrow, I felt pure unadulterated grief. But I did not cry. I stopped myself from crying, when all I wanted to do was break down into pieces and wish to be able to pick myself up. I let the sorrow build up inside of me. I let the desperation, the frustration, the anger and isolation mold up inside my soul, right next to my heart, my heart burnt as my emotions took refuge near by. My hands shook, as anger very quickly took over every emotion in my brain and my eyes went blood shot. And I realized it was now time to make my new friend.<br />
<br />
And so I cried.<br />
<br />
My new friend was made out of sheer sorrow, grief and anger. Frustration and desolation gave it a heart. Isolation gave it a soul. My new friend was extremely dark, with red shot eyes, just like mine. Just like an angry friend is supposed to have. He had almost no form except to me he looked like a very dark cloud. His feet never touched the ground, and he seemed to hover inches above the earth, with a aura so dark, it made me blink. My new friend was dense, and he was speechless. All he was was a reflection of me in an extremely dark mirror.<br />
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<span id="goog_343320760"></span><span id="goog_343320761"></span><br />
<br />
The first few days he simply floated around with me, not blinking, not breathing, emotionless as a rainy cloud. All he did was grunt, and he grunted every time I felt a pang of pain- either from anger or hurt. I did not mind the dense entity follow me around every where I went, even when I slept he would simply stand besides the bed and stare down at me.<br />
Grunting.<br />
<br />
After all, a friend is supposed to be a dense, mute, grunting companion.<br />
<br />
It was after a few days that I realized a few things. My friends came back to me. It grunted. My girlfriend came back to me. It grunted. My family accepted me back. It grunted. Every time I heard it grunt, I felt grief, I felt anger, I felt frustration all over again. I felt trapped in an overwhelming sense of guilt, every time it grunted.<br />
I was unquestionably trapped. I tried my best to smile after things became alright again. I tried my best to keep happy thoughts lingering in my brain, when fate decided it was supposed to be nicer to me. When things were happening as I always hoped, I could feel no hope. My new friend was now getting denser by the day. Its eyes, coal shot red, widened by the minute. And with each second, I could see a very thin smile develop on its formless face.<br />
<br />
My friends were confused about my depression. My girl friend left me again, unable to deal with my erratic mood swings and rage tantrums. My family stuck out with me the longest, and tried to get me all help possible. I visited doctors and I saw psychologists. They poked me, gave me pills and even shot radiation through my brain to confirm I was still in control of my own sanity. They all looked down at the chart and sighed. And with that my family lost hope, and lost interest. I was now back with my friend. Grunting.<br />
<br />
And today, I can hear its grunting right next to my shoulder. Its getting louder. I am getting weaker. I did not foresee the fact that I had made a monster, who was, without doubt, hundred percent anger, grief, desperation and isolation. And it fed on exactly the same. It needed me to be depressed. It needed my to be suicidal. The more I cried, the more it grunted. My friend. It wanted to see me suffer.<br />
<br />
And so I lie in my bed today, very sure of the fact that this is not all just a simple nightmare, but exactly what would happen if I befriended depression. My friend, my monster, my demon now haunts me every day and not day.<br />
<br />
Every Calvin is not meant to have a Hobbes.<br />
<br />
<br />
Ed Lithium<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-56720292773655912892011-11-09T20:32:00.001+05:302011-11-09T20:32:10.334+05:30Manmadhan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I think I am going crazy.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
The pitter-patter of little feet would have made me smile before. Today, however, I am paralyzed. With each childish footstep and the following innocent giggles, my heart sinks and I rethink every single intention of mine to marry my fiance.<br />
<br />
<i>Trust me, Viraj, you will see it. You will definitely come face to face, and you will be scared. You will be scared Viraj, and you will not know what you should do. And that is what it does, that is what it wants to do all along. It will play with you, and it will make you question every thing you ever felt about her. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
The dark room is not dark enough, and I soon realize, finding me crouching on the cold marble floor would be nothing besides child's play. I see the child's chubby little foot in the family mirror in front of me, and then I see the cold silver steel for a bit more than a single instance. Something about the way the steel shone, made me sweat, and it made me gasp.<br />
And one gasp is enough. The footsteps stop. The giggles cease. Through the corner of my eyes, I see a small little curly haired head turn.<br />
I try to not look directly at it, and end up gazing at its smile. And what bothers me most was, how even while the tiny little cherub hands reached slowly for the silver steel, it's smile was undeniable child-like. Innocent.<br />
<br />
<i> Not just a little kid, Viraj, Manmadhan. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DzAAtBEa7qg/TrqV3utozjI/AAAAAAAAAM0/EFRhLvoshfs/s1600/cupid4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DzAAtBEa7qg/TrqV3utozjI/AAAAAAAAAM0/EFRhLvoshfs/s1600/cupid4.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i><br /></i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i> </i>Never did I think, I would believe in such old wives tales. However, in this case, the old wives weren't paying the price for love. It was simple. And incredible. And people somehow fail to see that incredible is used in a negative connotation. The legend was well to the point, Manmadhan would do anything to see true love. Armed with a silver steel bow and arrow, Manmadhan would not smile all the time.<br />
<br />
<i>I am telling you, I don't think you love her. Don't go ahead with this if you have even one small ounce of doubt. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
But I love her.<br />
<br />
I see a shadow sweep past the wall in front of me and it comes to a rest in front of the old Victorian mirror. I can see it now.<br />
A three foot fair skinned child, curly golden hair swaying with the wind that didn't exist. All it wore was a pitiful white diaper with an enlarged silver steel pin, and I can see some vague undiscriminating stains on the white cloth, which look unusually like dried blood. On its chubby back, it sports a silver steel container full of fine arrows that seem to shine in an unholy eerie mist, which surrounds Manmadhan itself. Till now I can see its back alone, but it soon it steps out from behind the wooden desk it had hid itself behind.<br />
A smile that every mother would be proud of, a shining silver steel bow rests within its hands. Its hands rested well on its chubby stomach and it breaks out into a nice little smile. I am almost mesmerized as it slowly pulls back the arrow with unexpected dexterity. It is not holy, it is now sacred. I can see the evil that it exudes from within, with its childish smile and the unearthly giggle.<br />
<br />
I am extremely afraid now. But I cannot move. I am forced to think. I definitely do love her. I have loved her from the day I met her. I have always called her up every day and told her how much I loved her. She knows I love her. I have always made it very clear. I love her.<br />
<br />
The arrow strikes me clean in between my eyes. And so does something else.<br />
<br />
Do I, really?<br />
<br />
<br />
I open my eyes and I see her, standing over my head, crying. She hugs me as soon as I can get up. She explains how everyone found me unconscious in the old attic next to the old Victorian mirror. I touch my forehead and I find no mark of an extremely sharp silver steel arrow. She explains how the doctors have no explanation for it besides extreme stress. I confess, to myself, I am baffled as well. But some how things seem clearer now.<br />
I look to my right and I see a mother holding her new born son, and crying in joy. I see the father doing the same as well. A fair skinned little child, that looks me directly in my eye.<br />
<br />
' I don't want to marry you.' I find myself saying. And I know she will ask me my reasons very soon. I am very clear. I know exactly what to say.<br />
<br />
<br />
Ed Lithium<br />
<br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-78729467047985700882011-11-05T17:40:00.000+05:302011-11-05T17:40:23.290+05:30Of hope and human<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /></div>
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gasping for air, hoping to breathe</div>
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a monument of something that never dies</div>
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crumbles to dust under the weight of its own lies</div>
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and a heart beats, out of sheer compulsion and fright</div>
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some poor little child is still afraid of the night</div>
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and he questions his own strength</div>
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and determination</div>
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where is hope</div>
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when all i find is distraction</div>
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<br /></div>
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and all there is to life</div>
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there also in death</div>
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so on what basis do we decide</div>
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to go through life, as means or mode</div>
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in hope to reach a better abode</div>
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life or death, all a man wants is a day when he doesnt have to hide</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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ed lithium </div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-78581717344270625402011-11-05T01:31:00.000+05:302011-11-05T01:39:04.112+05:307 AM 3.05 PM ---- My first encounter with Tamil cinema ( A review of Seventh Sense)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I like sincere movies.<br />
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This week for me, I believed, was scarred and blistered after the weekend RA.one debacle. Three hours trapped in the middle of nowhere ( IMAX Wadala) I believed that I was not going get through this. Needless to say, I was much relieved to be back home and be able to yes to a film with one of my closest friends.<br />
The fun started much before going to the actual movie.<br />
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One of the more genuine attempts at movies, and definitely of the most sincere movies this year- 7aum Arivu (Seventh Sense) is definitely a movie worth watching. Starring Suriya and Shruti Hasan, and directed by the impeccable Murugadoss, this was my first Tamil encounter in the cinemas.<br />
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Being born a Tamilian- Marathi , and having spent my entire life, first in Bombay and then in Mumbai, I obviously had no understanding of a single syllable of Tamil. Jalebi language, what I used to call, and for no understandable reason did I make an effort to learn it. Me and my friend had decided to catch 7aum Arivu (sevent sense) a movie by the Ghajani director and starring Surya and the extremely noteworthy Shruti Hasan. Having heard a lot about the film, I had great expectation, and it was with these great expectations that I called up Cinemax and asked about the timings. <br />
The conversation was as follows-<br />
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Me: I wanted to ask if the film 7 AM Arivu at Cinemax Sion has English subtitles.<br />
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Cinemax Lady : Which show?<br />
Me: 7 AM Arivu?<br />
Cinemax: I am sorry the show is at 3.05 pm, Sir.<br />
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When I cleared out my mistake, her fluency in Tamil made me sense a slight disgust in her tone for my lack of knowledge of Tamil. It was almost as if she knew I was half Tamil. And, in my defense, I really am.<br />
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And then me and my friend landed in the cinema, hoping to find the perfect seats to be able to read the subtitles.<br />
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The movie banks heavily on the crowd pulling Suriya and noteworthy Shruti Hasan to work out strong roles. Murugadoss writes and directs this epic, spanning over two time periods. The movie begins with a bang, taking us into the past to 1600 AD, where Bodhidharman begins is journey from his Tamilian kingdom to China. The production value instantly strikes us and I really hope more movies would watch such movies to see the effect and impact of production value on the selling prowess of a regional movie.<br />
Suriya shows skill and charm as he shifts his roles between an 1600 AD healer-warrior-legend to an extremely talented circus performer.<br />
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Shruti Hasan, (huge fan), plays out the lead role in the movie with grace and ease, that of young Tamil biotechnologist, proud of her culture and using science to study our heritage. She plays the anchor in the move, her character joining the threads of this plot together till the very end. Her acting skills impress and amaze.<br />
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The movie proceeds with a lot of flaws, and a rather jerky time line, but with fluent direction and excellent cinematography. The characters are well painted and while the director/writer takes time for their development, this makes the movie a bit too long for one's taste. The music goes well the film, but could have been much better, as is the expectation with Tamil movies. I dont want to go into the details of this movie, but want to point out a few important facts that I came out with, after leaving the cinemas-<br />
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---- The message Suriya and Shruti Hasan leave us with, as the camera moves slowly on and away from Murugadoss, impressed me, and it seems to patch up some of the holes left in the movie. Suriya explains how the Tamil heritage is slowly being lost in the same place which it should be preserved. Shruti points out that no one should be forced to resort to Science to 'awaken the Tamilian within us' when we all have the power to do it ourself. This small and seemingly unnecessary and pedantic interview at the end of the movie explains how well the metaphor of 'helping to bring back Bodhidharman to life' is, in fact, an effective metaphor to bring out the true message, as it was intended by the director.<br />
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---- Regional movies, I agree, will always be bound by certain frames, and I feel that is necessary to keep regional films regional. However, this movie is a good example of how great production, direction and a big budget can make a regional film not only at par with, but also above the quality of Bollywood films.<br />
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---- Innovation- something 90 percent of all movies in Bollywood consciously exclude from their process. To explain this in one single line I want to point out a scene where Suriya takes Shruti for a ride on his elephant on the streets of India, and how Shruti manages to ' awaken Suriya's genetic memory' within 15 days. The base line is that 'innovation pays'<br />
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----I would really hope films like these help directors realise the importance of taking risks. This movie goes to prove that taking a risk with the right talent and good attitude is better than the fan following of any super star. RA.one was tangled mesh of a half a dozen sci-fi movies and depended only and only on SRK's appeal and special effects to sell a film that basically lacked any script whatsoever. RA.one- good movies can be made without being so bland- SRK, take notes.<br />
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This movie not just helped me recover from a bad bout of RA.one from the earlier week, but it actually gave me a feeling of pride of being half Tamil. It reminded me that even though I have lived my entire life in Mumbai, I have been born in Bangalore. It reminded me that I have more than one hometown.<br />
It showed me the best part of being an Indian- you get to enjoy two cultures at the same time. You get to be proud of any number of cultures you want to. Considering this movie got its message out to me, and made me feel what it intended me to feel, and also not forgetting I have been completely blinded behind a Marathi veil for my entire life to my Tamil culture, I think this movie is not bad at all. It made me think, and I like that in a movie sometimes.<br />
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Everyone appreciates sincere movies.<br />
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Ed lithium<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-21791252941318878912011-11-02T13:36:00.000+05:302011-11-02T13:56:34.053+05:30The day which led to the day when the world was subjected to ' K3G'- Happy Birthday SRK<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My relationship with Shahrukh Khan goes back a long way, and like most relationships I have endured, it has not been an easy one. Today is 40-odd birthday of King Khan and I cant say I am not impressed by the sway the King Khan has over the Indian minds these days. He has definitely changed the face of the planet forever.<br />
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But then so did Hitler, a few decades ago....<br />
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With SRK, it has always been a classic hate-hate relationship, extremely easy to sustain, thanks to the continuing endeavors of the KK himself. In my early childhood, my only image of the King Khan, has been that of a messy haired short guy with a speech impediment, who runs around trying to kill beautiful actresses in the movie. I dare say he crossed the line when he tried to mess with the ever-fantastic and never-hated Madhuri Dixit in 'Anjaam'. I would have forgiven him for trying to stalk and menace Juhi Chawla, and completely ignoring the fact that Sunny could have restructured his face ( and may be, just may be, fixing his speech as well). But, I agree, that was a quite younger Khan who probably was still trying to find his own ground in this maze of Bollywood.<br />
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If there a lesson taught to me, imprinted on my mind, by KK, is that popularity never translates to talent. Popularity is, and always is, just popularity. And KK understood this and realized he had to take a decision now - decide between improving talent or improving his popularity. As a spew of Switzerland based movies wit h him raising his hands towards the heaven, Rahul found his ground in this Bollywood maze- and the masses love him for it. Movie after movie, in each one of them, he spent trying to woo girls and earn the respect of his parents ( which part was harder is quite obvious) and slowly his movies created a niche for themselves.<br />
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Another lesson I learnt from KK- make a niche for yourself, as repugnant as it may be, but make your niche.<br />
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Some of his less niche- centric films were watchable, to a certain extent, if my eye lids were glued to my forehead. And it would have to be a pretty strong industrial glue for that matter. My Name is Khan- its a sentence in itself, and describes the movie in itself. The first scene where KK stands in the line, his acting suggesting he has a yet to be diagnosed mental illness, which makes him shiver and shake and takes a minute to finish any sentence he wants to speak out. Swades was probably his only sincere attempt at movies, but again it might be extreme bias for Gayatri Joshi which is making me say this. Nonetheless, after Swades I believes KK could pick up his act.<br />
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A special mention to Om Shanti Om - thank you for introducing Deepika Padukone to us, SRK. For that, we adore you. This movie highlighted SRK's friendship for Arjun Rampal - he served two purposes. 1- He is pretty much the best looking actor in the Industry and 2. His Oak tree bark expression face can make SRK's 'acting capabilities' look oscar winning and heart -warming.<br />
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Don came and went, and I hoped against hope, that Don ko pakadna wont be that impossible. But I very distinctly remember the popcorn in the movie theatre being really good. So, thank you SRK for the wonderful cinema experience. Also, the samosa's weren't all that great. But, I managed.<br />
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And last but in no way the least - RA. one<br />
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Here, I stop, I cannot bring myself to talk about this 'movie'. And thats why, I cant go on.<br />
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But one thing is for sure, love him or hate him, he is truly the King Khan, and had it not been for most of his movies, I would have never appreciated the 'better' films of Bollywood just a little bit more....<br />
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Happy Birthday SRK</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-49778575897384059472011-10-31T01:13:00.000+05:302011-11-01T00:32:44.150+05:30Locking lips<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In the past few days, due to a recent illness, I have had time to think. Of course, I did not waste the time thinking about anything productive. Which brings me to a question I always never ask people- why do human beings lock lips, why do we kiss, why do we smooch? I can no longer safely say a man and a woman these days, society has challenged me to the tilt. How did rubbing out slithery wet lips, as opposed to rubbing alternate shoulders, standing on each others toes or clapping hands, become a sign of affection and love? Again, society will question me at that as well.<br />
My first doubt takes me way back to Adam and Eve, sitting in a garden, the world's privacy central. Another very pertinent question lets me have the liberty of time travelling into Europe during the black plague. Its not wrong to assume that kissing, of all contact strategies, should have been eradicated first as a mean of transmtitting the dangerously clever Y. pestis which took even the untouchable rats for ride.<br />
Kissing is a sign of several emotions - love, affection (yes, they are very seperate), respect, good luck and even vendetta (guys, I know you would understand. Again, as a simple note of clarity, I have never kissed a guy over vendetta. And I dont plan to start as well, any time soon) Mothers kiss sons, political leaders kiss each other, and the more blatant and perceivable- adolescents cant stop thinking about it.<br />
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Let me repeat the definition of kiss from the old trusted wiki- Kissing is the act of pressing one's lips to the lips of another person. But this was just obligatory for a douche blog. Being an Indian, lets see how far we would go in the records of History. We date as back as 1500 BC, and I can easily say we have been pioneers in our own right! We invent the zero and we show the world how to kiss. There is no direct mention of the word 'kissing' but a mention of 'taking moisture from the other's lips' I believe that can be counted as kissing. Again, at the risk of venturing into uncharted territory, I would mention the Kama Sutra, a book that covers kissing as an act of passion.<br />
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In ancient Greece, we see mentions of kissing in Homer's Odyssey and other works. He himself is reported to have been kissed by his slaves when he returned home after his voyage. These are some examples of kissing for respect, as opposed to love. King Priam kissed Achille's hands for his heroic feat of bringing back his boy's body.<br />
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The Romans are attributed with the action of attempting spread of kissing through military conquests. Considering its Rome, its pretty believable that this could have been the sole reason for their conquests. The Old Testament refers to kissing several times, I would not know the exact number, but Christians, please help me out here ? Its all educational.<br />
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In the Medieval Ages, kissing was seen as an action of trust. The King's subjects would kiss the King's ring, hand or even the ground in front of his feet, to show his trust and respect. Knights would get a kiss from the person they saved, once a year, as thanks.<br />
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How to world turned to the symbol of the letter X for kissing- It was in the medieval ages, when people who knew now how to write, would make an X mark and kiss the mark as a sign of sealing and commitment .In fact, it was during the industrial revolution, that kissing transformed into the hand-shake, something every person goes through (bad and good, the terrifying and the soothing) every day.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">By 1872, Charles Darwin theorized that given the diversity and popularity of kissing and related behaviors around the world, humans must possess an innate desire to connect this way. As he surmised, kissing is rooted in our evolutionary past, but significantly influenced by unique social norms and customs. The more we kiss, the better chances of survival!</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> It is always good to have a reason ready just in case you ever need one. And if you have lived in Mumbai, I believe you would easily have required such reasons a lot! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> Here, I have just touched a small nerve of this vibrant issue- ' Kissing, why? really? when?' The the beauty of this noble gesture is however seen from the range of emotions it signifies- </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">a mother kisses a son/ daughter to show pure and unbridled affection and love</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">political leaders kiss each other as a sign of acceptance and respect</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"> ( Kissing the Blarney Stone for good luck is a well known tradition)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">kissing is well rooted in religious scripts and religious traditions</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">and finally, the kissing we know best - the spring time, when adolescence kicks in and out of us</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">to kiss is to love and respect</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">to acknowledge, to accept</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">to see to it you make the person in front of you smile</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">go ahead take a moment to kiss some one you love today</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">and show them you care</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">so goes a poem by some one who can never understand what a kiss and why a kiss, but definitely understands the world can not do without this undoubtedly confounding human behavior that we all live our lives upon :)</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px;">ed lithium </span><br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-73449921829308750852011-03-31T17:46:00.001+05:302011-03-31T17:46:18.114+05:30Triskaidephobia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">13 happened soon after 12, and the world would never be the same again....</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqaHScGT66TFLYZ1VgO3K-nRk_29RIb6wEP7j9jKjjzkLyFZ30o8Iz6CV50iglGMowqTFYg_MzAYcWh2ccQtjZEMhTVxl6sBDMYj3CKEjvwZMMtnC6P3dnUz14eJWU-RRKuawlHT_lJE/s1600/imagesCAU724TO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqaHScGT66TFLYZ1VgO3K-nRk_29RIb6wEP7j9jKjjzkLyFZ30o8Iz6CV50iglGMowqTFYg_MzAYcWh2ccQtjZEMhTVxl6sBDMYj3CKEjvwZMMtnC6P3dnUz14eJWU-RRKuawlHT_lJE/s1600/imagesCAU724TO.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We all know how to count, and we all know how to count up to 13. It starts with one and goes on, quite favorably and quite enthusiastically. And when we do count up to 13, we all know that a shiver runs down our spine and all of a sudden, the ease and comfort established by the enthusiastic 12 gives way to an ominous feeling that may be we should have stopped at 12. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Following a number as positive and energetic as 12 was never an easy task to begin with- this coupled with a rather unfortunate bout of bad luck, triskaidephobia was born. And man started fearing numbers now, because he had almost run out things to fear. The amount of effort put by man to coin a term describing this new-found fear tells us how significant this fear actually is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Buildings without 13th floors, never scheduling important endeavours on this day, praying twice as hard if an exam seems to be unavoidable- we all have gone through this, although the extent varies from person to person. Let me take a minute here and associate this number 13 with a few adjectives that devout triskaidephobics will agree upon-</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ominous, scary, unfortunate, unlucky, death, pessimism</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZgMx9QRg5wmRuAR0ZFFlgZzeKCojsLOvoUZByD5dnPvLsJGTywHZGhYlTnZhMhbjLdRMUsfM9r_XMS7piMS2hH76ZmCb6-17mxhQN60dHPx-gx6OPEERAm69vRBmv-5KCIjv-lxlloQ/s1600/lastsupp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZgMx9QRg5wmRuAR0ZFFlgZzeKCojsLOvoUZByD5dnPvLsJGTywHZGhYlTnZhMhbjLdRMUsfM9r_XMS7piMS2hH76ZmCb6-17mxhQN60dHPx-gx6OPEERAm69vRBmv-5KCIjv-lxlloQ/s320/lastsupp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And, for most part, I do agree. The most cliched example being the Last Supper, where in Jesus Christ invited 12 disciples. Here the number 13 sparked off a revolution in religious terms, and for most part, people realised that the number probably played a big role in spurning out a religion. This example is always cited first, and I decided to not be an exception to that rule. Agreed, that may be things would have been same, irrespective of how many apostles showed up, but it does go a long distance in establishing a negative feeling towards this number.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Norse people, people who claimed they did not know the meaning of fear, have their own story to tell.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Norse legend of the slaying of Baldur ( the God of admiration, redemption, nobility) in a banquet in Valhalla (the Norse heaven) is another testament to the earlier point. 12 Gods were invited but Loki (the trickster) came as the uninvited 13th guest. Baldur was slayed by a sword given by Loki. Here once can see clearly how 13 plays trickster and traitor, killing everything admirable and noble. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">13 stands out as a bad omen, of things which would follow and of terrible consequences if this number was ever ignored. And soon from such gatherings people started paying close attention to who they invite. It is still believed that the first person to get up, when 13 people sit to have food, dies. And there have never been any conclusive studies to support this fact, but you never really know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Go on, try it..... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Moving on to other beliefs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the Hebrew alphabet, the 13th letter 'm' is considered unlucky itself, since it begins and ends the word 'mem' which means death. Here we consider death in a negative connotation here, to illustrate the negative aspect of the number. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The tradition of Sizdah-Bedaar in the Persian mythology, is an interesting one. Literally meaning 13, the Persians all leave their house on the 13th day of the first month of the year to avoid bad luck. People leave their houses, go to the country side, have a good day. This is a day of ceremony, but the ceremonial happiness only helps to mask the purpose of leaving your houses, leaving behind the 13....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">These examples help us in understanding that several cultures have assigned a negative feeling to the number 13, some are scared of it and some are simply angry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">However, I want to take some time here and help you reflect on some of the positive aspects of the number 13. After all, I always believed that every number is significant, and this means it has positive and negative aspects attached. 13 is no exception. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In Greek mythology, the number 13 is considered extremely lucky since the Greek God Zeus is considered as the 13th God and symbolizes power, courage and strength. He is considered to be the most powerful of all Greek Gods. Hence, power is also associated with 13 since ancient times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">I mean, just look at him-</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh94qTytoGm6UWPuHjVoh5xZrgWF8u5GBH4TBNpx5H0Zu_GSEEqPVM2ueq632dD8dbQobDvtWFriaYPmMZK0RZB1RbkVC4KQflSTQ9jWr0j4WLZ_SxDCkYcynKcc_YYub9APaxNViIgQ10/s1600/imagesCA7THQH7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh94qTytoGm6UWPuHjVoh5xZrgWF8u5GBH4TBNpx5H0Zu_GSEEqPVM2ueq632dD8dbQobDvtWFriaYPmMZK0RZB1RbkVC4KQflSTQ9jWr0j4WLZ_SxDCkYcynKcc_YYub9APaxNViIgQ10/s1600/imagesCA7THQH7.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If we look at the number itself, we realise that it is a prime number- incorruptible, cannot be divided, pure and a symbol of integrity. Prime numbers are probably the only quantities in this world which I believe lack the gray area. It is either that or it is nothing. It can never be divided, but it can only be finished by itself. 13. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMUWKyWkZhjAVudJagwyHPx9qdcB01Dr1kL_LELsqm1agyIdJzS9F6N6Ljo7hDgPufL8Bok0DLCtEwdXogPgWhRWqwICa-jawq3q_lbYha-ZDxt_m-3IZ9HT2f1VDHdzy1VUDsOQs2lw/s1600/RWS_Tarot_13_Death.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMUWKyWkZhjAVudJagwyHPx9qdcB01Dr1kL_LELsqm1agyIdJzS9F6N6Ljo7hDgPufL8Bok0DLCtEwdXogPgWhRWqwICa-jawq3q_lbYha-ZDxt_m-3IZ9HT2f1VDHdzy1VUDsOQs2lw/s320/RWS_Tarot_13_Death.jpg" width="181" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the Tarot card, the 13th card is the Death card, where it signifies change, recycling and transition- all in a positive way. Death, here, is looked at positively, as a way of surrendering to fate and as a way of not just self-cleansing but changing yourself. Death and metamorphosis can both be related to this number. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In Egypt, there are 13 steps in the ladder to eternity. It is said that upon reaching the 13th step, the soul reaches the source of itself and attains spiritual completion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Aztecs, one of the most powerful civilisations in history, believed that each day was ruled by one God. They divided their week into 13 days, and considered 13 to be extremely lucky. The 13th day was ruled by the God Tezcatlipoca who symbolized mystery psyche, illusion and magic. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">However, the most relevant significance of 13 comes from the fact that 13 is the period of change and transition for every person, boy and girl, as he or she becomes a teenager. The Bar Mitzvah for Jewish boys is performed in the 13th year of their lives, when they transition from boys to men. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ever since man began to count, he knew that he was not going to change his world forever. Every event, every person, every animal and every memory would now be related to a number. He also knew that men could lie, numbers could not. Numbers were pure, and numbers were constant, both values which he realised were slipping slowly away from man's grasp. And man slowly began living his life through numbers. He grew fond of some numbers, and with some numbers he began to get uneasy.....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">13 happened slowly after 12, and the world changed forever. Be it good, or be it bad, man realised that no matter how much significance he would attach to 13, it would always be a little bit less than what the number demands. Be afraid of things you don't know, they say, or at least be very aware....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><em>be aware of things not seen,</em></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">there are more than twelve reasons to doubt a thirteen,</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">put your trust in a number you can count on</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">there are things in your world, that only numbers have seen</span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">ed lithium</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibY0Z5IGbGhyphenhyphenv3iNWW059tsPXg4mpK4VpHYz2-K5xoJdQdfheC7PHz6VvpLER8RQ188VCD6OQLuyMU-dLhd0WF4pAJo7oFaQw8fWHnM2y_eHkON9pEWVS_Y9nOn4dl0jmX2Pc3y463068/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibY0Z5IGbGhyphenhyphenv3iNWW059tsPXg4mpK4VpHYz2-K5xoJdQdfheC7PHz6VvpLER8RQ188VCD6OQLuyMU-dLhd0WF4pAJo7oFaQw8fWHnM2y_eHkON9pEWVS_Y9nOn4dl0jmX2Pc3y463068/s1600/images.jpg" /></span></a></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-20633218102711701322010-11-05T01:09:00.000+05:302010-11-05T01:10:15.654+05:30cadell chi cigarette<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">cadel chi cigarette</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">roj hataat</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">ghari jaychya aadhi ek mentos </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">ashi sandhyakaal roj asaaychi</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">mitraan barobar</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">hasat, khelat, </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">titanic var gappe maarat</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">kadhi shivaji park cha vada pav</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">tar kadhi tibbs chi franki</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">pudhchya divasachya parikshecha vichar na karta</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">cadel chi cgarette roj jalaychi</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">ashi sandhyakaal roj asaychi</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">ed lithium</p><div><br /></div></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-58784793987600306582010-11-05T01:08:00.000+05:302010-11-05T01:09:29.390+05:30Madhu Milan<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix" style="display: block; zoom: 1; margin-bottom: 20px; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; padding-right: 100px; word-wrap: break-word; "><div><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">a walk down memory lane</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">the smell of oil from the cycle-shop</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">fresh pav at your door step when you wake</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">a chubby little child walks down the road</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">smiles and waves you good morning</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">while your mom makes spicy hot pohe and chai</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">if you want to be happy, you wont have to even try :)</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">friends and family indistinguishable</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">living with two moms every day</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">a friend for a brother</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">a brother for a friend</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">together to stand by your side </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">right till the end</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">playing cricket, breaking windows</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">laughing in panic as you run</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">a place that lets you be a child forever</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">where one and one is still one</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">celebrate, Pray, smile, </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">win lose or cry or moan</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">at madhu milan, hm patil marg,</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">you never do it alone</p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "> </p><p style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; ">ed lithium</p><br /></div></div></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-31749496425009848902010-02-10T00:11:00.000+05:302010-02-10T00:13:35.537+05:30The day we outgrew a child....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; ">What has life become of us,<br />I guess<br />We outgrew our shoes,<br />Dim-lit memories,<br />A half-crooked smile,<br />We really had no clue...<br />Perhaps we were never supposed to,<br />We were meant to stay innocent,<br />The way we come was to be<br />The way be become,<br />But somewhere down the road,<br />We grew up,<br />And have never stopped since,<br />We grew right out of our smiles,<br />We grew right out of our dreams,<br />A little child is now lost on the street,<br />He smiles,<br />As he walks many a miles,<br />Away.....<br /><br />Its when we realised<br />We bow down to responsibilities,<br />It was then we realised,<br />We were responsible<br />For all of this...<br /><br />What has life become of us,<br />We are no more a child,<br />We smile and cry but everyday,<br />Happiness seems so mild...<br /><br /><br />Ed Lithium</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-57085084084803028582010-01-12T02:56:00.000+05:302010-01-12T03:11:37.040+05:30A Traveller's LogWe underestimate things which lie below a pre-decided magnitude, and most of the times we, as a species, are completely wrong...this comes hardly as a surprise considering we are human and inspite of being the undisputed ruler of an entire planet, we are not far away from destroying the same planet we like to call our throne... But coming back to the miniscule watch on our hands, I realised how significant, how important and how amazingly brilliant just something as small as a day can be... We have lived our lives for a number of days too large to calculate without a calculator and we certainly do not remember all the days we have lived. Modern science has gone so far as to predict that one more day we live is one more day towards the end, and yet we as a species, we as an individual and we as organisms leaning towards something undeniable and unavoidable have utterly failed to make the best of a day, so to speak. Isnt the whole point of conquering and dominating a planet, making the best of whatever the planet offers us? <div><br /></div><div>Technically it is. We evolved out of shells and bones and skulls and cartilages and made ourselves brains that helped us get rid of most of the competition. We conquered all land and decided that we are the sole rulers of the land of a huge blue planet. We patted our own backs and smiled and cheered. </div><div><br /></div><div>But conquering a planet isnt something easy and the old blue planet had an ace up her sleeve...</div><div><br /></div><div>It started rotating and going around a huge ball of fire, and consistently and periodically plunging a whole population into darkness and then consistently coming out into the bright light. It was this periodicity that gave birth to probably what can be called as the most dangerous weapon of all time... a pun if you may... This weapon is nothing but time. Reasons for the human desires for a time-machine go beyond education and exploration because of one simple understanding- He/ She who controls time, controls the world...</div><div><br /></div><div>A kind of a rather drastic way to begin a traveller's log but we often forget what usually we travel through. It was after travelling through space and travelling through a day, I was forced to see a different world, or rather, a same world through a different perspective with the same eyes but not the same sight, and I realised how one day seperated and distinguised a people from another people and the entire day fit brilliantly on my wrist. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now here was the beauty of the thing I wore on my wrist, a rather twisted irony, that man wears a watch always on himself for his entire life, to remind him of a simple truth- bitter, yes, but a truth that he is not the master of the world but merely reached a hieght from which he could not step down and now sits and bows down to the huge blue planet that has, till today, decided to forgive him....</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-30167033612872822382009-04-22T14:19:00.000+05:302009-04-22T14:33:20.390+05:30Ungli- The Finger!!!!!!!Ungli<br /><br />-the finger!!!!!<br /><br /><br />The chromosomal aberration made me stand up in the crowd,<br /><br />“Bull shit, are you this insane?”<br /><br />Then I thought for a while…<br /><br />Ok, one finger can change this world…<br /><br />“Not that one, you d*ckhead!”<br /><br />Ahh yes…but really? Interesting… I always thought it was the one next to that… Well, one lives and learns…<br /><br />“Out of the way, it’s a busy day!” the poster bearer cried. He came and stood next to me, huffing and puffing as he stuck a small poster onto the wall next to me.<br /><br />“Dude,” I said, “who is this?”<br /><br />From the looks of that guy, he appeared to be the paan-waala, whom I owe about a hundred bucks today. For I moment, I reeled. I squinted and I read, “ Vote for the Lion’s Claw. Pappu Bhai, Dadar.”<br /><br />“Yeh hamare honewaale Prime Minister hain!” the poster-boy spoke, with a shine in his eye and just about the right tone in his voice, as if he had been crucially instrumental in helping the paan-waala become India’s next Prime Minister.<br /><br />This wasn’t my paan-waala. He had a mole on the other cheek.<br /><br />I looked closely again.<br /><br />Ok, what was this guy running for? Well I had no idea about his intentions but going on his face I believed him to be extremely suited for the post of BEST conductor. Nothing more, nothing less…<br /><br />That cant be, I argued with myself. Is he running for the Chief Minister? That’s the only post that came to my mind. MLA? Many movies show Nana Patekar as the MLA. That’s where I picked up that word. Police Commissioner? Do they have elections for that?<br /><br />“Dude, you are pathetic!” the guy left me groping in the dark.<br /><br />This time he used the correct finger.<br /><br />“You are the future of the nation, my friend, and I still don’t see you waking up!” he said as he left.<br /><br />I looked at the poster again.<br />Nope, not my paan-waala, I said to myself and left.<br /><br /><br /><br />“Kitni baar bolu aapko, who Pappu Bhai hain, mein nahi! Aur mera paisa kab lautane waale ho?”<br /><br />I lit up my Benson and somehow things became clear.<br /><br />It was the day for elections.<br /><br />How could I forget? I was ashamed of myself. Such an important day. I had circled it on my calendar about a month ago. I raced through the stick, I was in no mood of wasting it. <br /><br />“Hey sweetie! Happy Anniversary! I am so sorry I forgot! Lets celebrate! What? Really? You’re kidding! No booze? … Aaah! Of course, elections! Dry day! Stupid democrats! Really? That’s just in the US? What do we have here? … uh huh…yea…whatever…What say we vote for Pappu Bhai! At least we’ll get some booze!”<br /><br />I kept down the phone.<br />What a sad little day!<br /><br />“Thank God, I at least have you my little magic-stick! No election’s gonna take you away from me!”<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />“That’s the last time I am telling you! You have to contribute a hundred bucks for the event! Pappu Bhai’s orders! Its his birthday! A joyous occasion. If you don’t pay up we’ll beat up sp badly, you won’t have teeth left to smile at his party!”<br /><br />“Why the fuck should I pay? I owe that paan-waala a hundred bucks.”<br /><br />This was when the crushing blow came to my knees.<br /><br />He made a valid point. I had to pay.<br /><br />Something shouted at the back of my mind. Don’t pay! Shit did I say that out loud?<br /><br />Another blow came down on my shoulder.<br /><br />Yes, you did.<br /><br />Is this really worth for a hundred bucks. Just pay up!<br /><br />I really had no idea you were this weak!<br /><br />These voices in my brain went on and on, coming to no conclusion at all. Meanwhile, these men were making some strong arguments.<br /><br />Ok I guess I have to pay up.<br /><br />Suddenly I heard another voice resonating through my head.<br /><br />“Not that one, you d*ckhead!”<br /><br />Of course!<br /><br />The finger!<br /><br />It took a while to gather enough courage but I stood up. And up came the finger.<br /><br /><br />I have no idea how, what, why? But suddenly I saw them trembling. One of them already had starting running away.<br /><br />Yes! Fucking cowards! Run away!<br /><br />The guy who had made me a mess started sweating and for a moment was stunned. He just stood there, doing absolutely nothing. Even he followed suit.<br /><br />Run away, you bastards! Messing around with me, eh?<br /><br /><br /><br />It was an hour later. I was in the line, smiling, bleeding and enjoying the smell of success and power.<br /><br />For once I was powerful. I felt untouchable. I felt invincible. I felt indestructible.<br /><br />That is the power of one finger.<br /><br />That’s when it made me think… Definitely, I have been missing out on this thing for years now. It’s not a right. It’s a fucking hand-grenade! I could walk straight for once. I could look every person in the eye and say, do you have the guts to yell at me?<br /><br />Sometimes, I realized, ungli karma acchi baat hain! <br /><br /><br /> Eddie LithiumAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4065768780666489358.post-78473722415354711792009-02-27T23:20:00.000+05:302009-02-27T23:25:48.458+05:30The need to breedWhats-his-name is a pretty boy,<br />But dont pay heed,<br />Its a need to breed,<br />He's a happy going college guy,<br />Its the same again,<br />Now he's in pain...<br /><br />He's a joke,<br />But he dont know why,<br />Its little bit but it gives him joy,<br />He's a very confused and a brittle boy,<br />Thats enough to make him smile...<br /><br />He's the one who'll be the first,<br />To save you and get himself hurt,<br />He's the guy you'll always need,<br />But dont forget<br />Its a need to breed,<br /><br />Tumbling down a broken hill,<br />He's an embarassment to old Jack and Jill,<br />He wants to live his life again,<br />He wants to try,<br />But all he does is cry...<br /><br />Eddie Boy LithiumAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04920542994216705831noreply@blogger.com0