tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71064211748386129472024-03-25T19:28:02.470+05:30Life is just a bowl of cherries!!Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.comBlogger335125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-6095216710150456662022-05-15T23:33:00.001+05:302022-05-15T23:33:47.272+05:30A Simple Answer to the Complex Question<p>What is your answer to the question <b>Are you happy?</b>. Not like <i>happy right now</i> but <i>are you living a happy life?<br /></i></p><p>Most of us are unable to answer because we don't know the scale to measure happiness. </p><p>I am in Dharamkot, Himachal Pradesh. Despite on vacation, I had to work fulltime due to unforeseen project plan changes. As there's no Zomato or Swiggy here, we are forced to step out for our breakfast & meals. Dharamkot is a small hippie town and you find lot of Israeli guys and girls around. Lhasa Tibetian Restaurant is their favorite place, so is ours. </p><p>I never found any of them alone. There's always a friend beside or a large group, talking animatedly. They talk, laugh while they wait for meal and some more, afterwards. On next table, I see Indian couples sitting together but lost in their phones. </p><p>I couldn't help but think, what is a happy life? Isn't it these small moments? I must spend them wisely. </p><p>I am reading <b>The Little Book of Hygge: The Danish Way to Live Well</b> by Meik Wiking . It has inspired me to observe, think, appreciate & write.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent-bom1-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/280929897_5631427756887336_4764322753694267658_n.jpg?_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-6&_nc_sid=8bfeb9&_nc_ohc=AUR041Jf8XsAX_2mSNr&_nc_ht=scontent-bom1-2.xx&oh=00_AT_XYK6IFCVFmTHUHc5MlkpZQYJ7GPGPhgZpq9pzoDU3Zw&oe=62872882" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="800" height="211" src="https://scontent-bom1-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.30808-6/280929897_5631427756887336_4764322753694267658_n.jpg?_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-6&_nc_sid=8bfeb9&_nc_ohc=AUR041Jf8XsAX_2mSNr&_nc_ht=scontent-bom1-2.xx&oh=00_AT_XYK6IFCVFmTHUHc5MlkpZQYJ7GPGPhgZpq9pzoDU3Zw&oe=62872882" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com1Dharamkot, Dharamshala, Himachal Pradesh 176219, India32.2475151 76.325737331.323012648433807 75.2271044875 33.1720175515662 77.4243701125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-74886212775295697052020-03-19T13:08:00.001+05:302020-03-19T13:08:52.304+05:30“Irrationally Passionate” Book review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Biographies can be intriguing and motivating. My favourite biography is 'Made in Japan' by Akio Morita. There's something stirring about watching these extra-ordinary individuals walk through hardships and road blocks, there’s so much to learn! I prefer biographies of known achievers but Jason Kothari’s title as "Former CSIO of Snapdeal” piqued my interest.</div>
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"Pressure Makes Diamonds" -- That’s the story! </div>
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“Irrationally Passionate” is story of Jason, a Hong Kong kid who schooled in different parts of the world, suffered racism, bullying and never fit in because of his Indian heritage marked second class. He was segregated in public, neglected as a customer and kept out of the baseball team. It’s a wonder he succeeded despite everything. He could have had been a pompous ass but instead tries to tell the world of his secrets.</div>
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Sting and Shadowman, two superhero characters of Valiant comics were also treated as outcasts became role models for Jason. When Jason saw his favourite comic company dying, he jumped on the opportunity to own it. I think that's highly admirable. Thinking of buying a company, bidding millions that you don't have, is no small feat. A major portion of the book deals with his struggle to resurrect Valiant Enterprise and bringing it back to its glory.</div>
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His mantra is based on sheer focus, hard work and perseverance. In his own words - </div>
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"Everyday after school I would spend hours practising alone. I would imagine my basketball idol, Michael Jordan, and me playing one-on-one. Month after month I saw my performance improve. Foul shots, three-pointers, layups, hook shots - I drained bucket after bucket. When I beat every opponent in one-on-one pick-up games, I started challenging two guys to play me at once. When I blew through those competitors, I challenged myself to win an increasing margin and once led to team to a 40-0 victory!"</blockquote>
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He takes us through his entrepreneurial life, starting from earning profit of $142 in an hour by selling pizzas as a kid to saving the sinking Snapdeal. He tells us to DARE to dream BIG. </div>
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But "Life is messy and so is business", every business will throw difficulties at you. One should have the focus and resilience to endure the negativity from all around and push oneself to the goal. </div>
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Bill Jemas, former COO of Marvel, Valient's competing company, says - 'Jason, at Valiant Entertainment, was exceptional. His success in reviving Valiant from the ashes is a rare and admirable feat. Jason is a very sharp, dynamic, relentless yet balanced entrepreneurial leader with a wonderful sense of humour and humility who maintains good cheer even through the most trying of times'. </div>
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Kothari goes on to sharing his experiences at Housing.com, Freecharge and Snapdeal. Believing in giving back good to the world, Jason is frank in telling us all his right and wrong actions, successes and failures he made. He not only tells us to push oneself to achieve one’s dream but also when to stop and let go. The book is precious in terms of is his frank how-he-did-it accounts, invaluable learnings and framework of ideal start-up. Jason also tell us of an entrepreneur's personal life as a son, brother, friend and partner.</div>
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I believe this book is not just for entrepreneurs but all those who like to dream and have a goal. This book will shatter your glass ceiling of limit and fear. It tells us – “Think BIG. BELIEVE. Work HARD with DEEP CONVICTION. ENDURE. At the same time, also HELP others”</div>
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I too believe in Jason's words - Limits Are Illusions.</div>
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This book was sponsored by BlogAdda for review. This review is my honest opinion.</div>
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Recommended - 4.5 stars</div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-803852771370134932019-10-30T08:03:00.000+05:302019-10-30T08:03:13.279+05:30Book Review: My Sister, the Serial Killer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Ayoola and Korede are sisters with opposite emotional qualities and capacity for accountability. Ayoola is beautiful but a serial killer. Korede is the moralistic elder sister but takes care of the cleanup. The story follows Korede's perspective and her handling of the bloody aftermath. </div>
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Many people find the book hyped. I believe that is because they expected it to be about serial killers and the investigation. The real story is much deeper then the murders. It is about dealing with one's emotional loss and other's lack of empathy. It questions skin color, sexuality, appearance and one's rejection based on it. It lets us peek into the less explored African culture and about delving into relationships and responsibilities ingrained into body through blood ties and secrets.</div>
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The book is fluid and the short chapters keeps one hooked until the end. Novel premise and smart execution wins the reader's heart and mind. I think this book could not have been made any better. </div>
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I highly recommend it.</div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-65003318254070988632019-08-25T16:34:00.000+05:302019-08-25T16:34:13.518+05:30Offerings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;">They were at the door of Khanna House.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>It’s a matter of a few hours</i>, Maya reminded herself, After all they’d been regular to these monthly parties. She’d loved them, the ambience, decor, food, drinks. Richmond gardens was a respectable society with no place for indecency. If they both played their part, no one would know about their broken marriage and her battered body.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">She opened the door and was greeted by warm dim yellow chandelier lights. People in silks and suits moved around chatting and drinking wearing their best smiles.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>First step done</i>, she thought. Her hand on husband’s arm slipped down. They’d taken first step of separation when Mr. Khanna popped before them, handing them a glass of wine, </span></span><span style="font-size: small;">“Ah! Mr & Mrs Dima, welcome! You have been missing my parties. I hope my company doesn’t bore you now”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">“No”, Maya heard her husband say. “I have never been to a nicer party than yours and I mean it!” Mr. Khanna left, pleased.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">She looked around, taking a long sip. The wine certainly was top shelf. Everything felt more luxurious than before.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Her chain of thought was broken by a high pitched voice, it was Tina. “Is that you Maya?”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Where you’ve been?” she asked, one hand on chest, eyes wide with concern. To anyone it would seem Tina was her bestie.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“You have been missing so much dear” Tina said.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“This party is nothing like before”, Maya said.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“You don't say. Yes, Mr. Khanna is a wealthy man now. And…” Tina’s report was interrupted yet again. It was Suzanne. Tina coughed.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maya couldn’t help staring at Suzanne who was in a red silk gown. <i>She looked different, looked …happy? ten years younger?</i><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“How?” Words failed Maya.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Good food, Yoga”, Suzanne whispered before leaving.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Yoga? Well well, pelvic asana for sure” Tina blabbered. Maya was about to question when her eyes went to a couple in the corner. The man and woman were standing apart but Maya felt their relationship similar to her own.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“That couple?” Maya pointed.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“The Dey couple. They have been here in last two parties. New here, Architect, his profession. Very social, I feel… I doubt ……”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maya eyes couldn’t move away from the woman. She was looking away from the husband, detached, taking sips lethargically. <i>She was gorgeous, as if dipped in melancholic beauty.</i> Maya felt a sudden pang of sadness.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Why?” Maya asked.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Is he the reason?” Tina said, understanding her question. Maya followed her eyes to Mr Dey, he was average looking but with a certain charm. He was beaming, as if the party belonged to him, his hand, subtly sliding around another woman’s waist.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Dey was seen screwing a woman”, Tina whispered in Maya’s ears. Her voice was low but screeching with excitement.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maya looked at Tina in shock. <i>There had been gossip. But not of this vile nature. Things have changed too much.</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Out in open you know, Mr R saw them. He was upset with such indecency…tsk..tsk.. He was going to complain to the secretary”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Did he?” Maya took a sip.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Nah, he wanted to but couldn’t. He was too shocked to name the woman”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Tina found herself leaning with interest.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Tina coughed..“Our yoga lover, I guess the love positions have worked quite well”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Must be a rumor. Definitely. I’ve known Suzanne for many years. She is a good person. Respectable” Maya said, offended.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Oh dear, so a good person can't have physical needs?”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maya followed Tina’s gaze to Suzanne who was stealing looks at Mr. Dey, the man oblivious to the ladies glances, had found yet another petite waist.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Back at home, as Maya removed her makeup from eyes, cheeks, lips, uncovering the hidden bruises. It hurt but her mind didn’t notice the pain. It was lost in the strange hall where everything was changed, things and people.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Buried in work, she missed the next party. She was back to the mirror spending hours hiding the new bruises. <i>She was earning enough to afford a rented place in a wealthy neighbourhood. Why did her husband torment her with such violence? Or it has turned into a habit? He cannot be a sadistic husband, he wasn’t before. All she want is his love, like before.</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Her phone rang, flashing Tina’s number.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“You disappeared again dear. I miss talking to you like old times”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Annoyed with intrusion, Maya put phone on speaker. “I have news. I got a call from a friend. Remember the Dey couple? They have bought the apartment. Guess what, Dey guy sign the deal and same night, the owner died. Natural death, they say. But it sounds too convenient, isn’t it? This couple is something”, Tina kept on.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“But there is a good news too”, Tina’s voice was back to usual.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Suzanne’s CSR activities have received honours from the government. And her husband is promoted to director”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Great news”, Maya said as she excused herself.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>It looked like Suzanne was living a second life, with a new body. Why her? </i>Maya felt a strange feeling was welling inside her. She was surprised at the news but worried about her feelings. <i>Her friends called her humble person. When did envy and anger enter her. How did this happen?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">That night, despite the <i>randomness</i>, when she saw the email, she felt there may still be hope of getting back the lost love.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The email just <i>hinted</i> of a solution to her problems. <i>But she was not to speak about it.</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">She’d never felt claustrophobic before, not in such big room. James Dey, Interior designer, the nameplate said. <i>This meeting was anything but housing consultation.</i></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Don't worry, you can leave any time you want” She jumped as Mr Dey appeared from nowhere. <i>She felt strange, as if being watched, tracked. </i>He was smiling.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“We can help you with your problems…<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Dont worry, we are not stalking you” He chuckled again.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“These parties help us in the business. They may be little stressful but it works for us” he shrugged.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“How…?” Maya heard herself say.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“We are blessed with an ability, a God gift”, he said, leaning back.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“For every problem you have, we make a solution, and then we use <i>blessings</i> to turn it into success”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Sorry, I don’t follow”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Say, your problem is kind of poison” Maya cringed at the ghastly metaphor. “With our gift, we find right antidote, and then transfer it to you”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>This doesn’t make any sense</i>, she thought. But was surprised when she heard herself ask, “Why secret?”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Oh, you need not worry. Many of your friends have used our services. Like newest of all, your best friend Tina”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maya blinked.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“How can I trust you?”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“It depends on how eager are you to have a bruise-free life? Fifty thousand rupees is peanuts to you” She was sure now, <i>It’s a prank, it’s too cheap.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Large sum are easy to get noticed and tracked. And we are not after money”. He said reading her thoughts. “It’s a community service”, he added.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“If you want to engage our services, give me a call”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maya was nodding which surprised her that she was even thinking about it.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“One important thing” He walked towards her. An inch apart, he looked down at her. She felt strange as she looked into his eyes. Her nervousness was getting washed away in his strange disarming aura.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“You see we are two individuals. To resolve your problem, me with the solution, we need a medium. A connection…. The manifestation can be only through coupling”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Bitterness filled her mouth. <i>Disgusting</i>, she thought, as she rushed to the door.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Your life is your choice”, she heard his voice behind her back.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">That night she was grateful that her husband was too drunk to deal with. And felt doubly grateful when Tina called.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“I have good news. I got promoted, hurrah. And, there’s more.. our long running court case of Calcutta mansion was concluded in our favour! “</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">As Maya congratulated Tina, she decided she <i>would offer herself.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">That night, Maya entered bed feeling guilty but the feeling vanished as her husband embraced her instead of abusing her.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">She is not illiterate, not someone who would fall for superstition for nothing, not her. This surely is more than that. It has worked.</span></i></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Mrs Dey smiled at her husband.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Your eyes, They summon” he said.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">She looked satisfied. “Richmond gardens is wealthy society with fine line of families and education. Prudence and high morals were virtue they prided on. Especially this Maya. I hated her from very first moment she looked at me with those pitiful eyes…” She hissed.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">But the next moment she mellowed and looked at her husband sitting by her feet. “But you’ve done well. Burnt down their virtues. You have offered me fine entertainment. Where will we find puritans to humble?”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“I will find them all”, he jumped to her. “Turn them all and offer it to you. Anything you desire”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<div style="height: 0px; text-align: center;">
The End</div>
</div>
Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-86817021739870708402019-08-14T22:34:00.000+05:302019-08-14T23:20:19.689+05:30Reviving the blog<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: justify;">
10 years, 330 posts, I consider it an achievement. Looking back I see how this blog helped my writing to mature. But I have always been adamant to keep it restricted to creative writing. I have had an interest in photography for a long time, but I posted my photos on Facebook and other medium but not here.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In a way, I think it's a good way to organize my writing. Nowadays my (adhoc and irregular) writing is mostly for my manuscript and I am afraid this blog has gone dormant. I do want to revive it, partly because I believe it's the reason of my growth in creative writing in the past, but also because it brought a discipline of regular writing in me (I am hardly writing these days, that is not a good sign for an aspiring writer). I may have lost most of my readers and the posts may go uncommented but the need of the hour is me writing.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Since the past few months, I have been dabbling in a number of things apart from writing - travel, clay work and lately have turned to gardening. I intend to expand this blog to all kinds of creative hobbies. And why not? Look out for this space :) </div>
</div>
Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-32787683281815023982018-06-07T21:50:00.000+05:302018-06-07T21:50:07.398+05:30Evening<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was evening, 7 pm. It had showered and the concrete around him looked cooled down. The few trees grounded by the cement looked relieved.<br />
<br />
<i>Better</i>, he thought. The cool air refreshed his body. But the headlights of bumper to bumper cars threw beams of stuffy smog ahead.<br />
<br />
<i>Grr</i>... He covered his nose. <i>What will I have for dinner? </i>A car honked, he shifted to the footpath. <i>Too many cars. </i>His feet kept on a relaxed stroll. <i>Perhaps I should order something. I should call someone. </i><br />
<br />
He munched on the chicken dim sums he had ordered from a nearby Chinese restaurant. The whiteboard before him had a bullet point list. His eyes stopped on a random point - Call a friend was one of it. A pain went in his mouth, he pulled out a sharp bone from his inside of the cheek. <i>I am going to give a strong feedback</i>. He gargled on a mouthful of Pepsi and drank it.<br />
<br />
He looked around the board, trying to observe the corners. From the long list of varied colors, as he tried his best to stray his eyes, they stationed on that one line. Call a friend.<br />
<br />
<i>It wasn't a difficult thing - this calling a friend. Perhaps he can WhatsApp someone.</i> His hands went to the plastic container to pick another dim sum, but there were none. <i>He had many friends. Many of them still consider him, or so he thought. But it's just like a flicker. These relationships.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Ram, Sham, and Bindu, anyone of these? </i>He looked sideways on the wall. 7 pm. <i>Too early for them on the other side of the world</i>.<i> Damn this ocean. Perhaps I can just message them. </i>He tilted his head back, slurped the last of the drink and then licked the rim. <i>Perhaps I will message later when they would be up. There were many things to do. Cleaning the house, the attic, the closets.</i> He looked around. All looked a good sweep.<br />
<br />
He tied a bandana around his head. <i>Lot of work. </i>Thirty minutes later he was sweeping the floor, he looked at the phone. The battery was good. No notifications. He looked at the fan and the attic. <i>So much to do...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
PS: Is this real? Behind locked doors, there are many waiting for someone else to call him. I had seen this amazing video by Guy Winch on emotional strength. Here's his blog <a href="https://www.guywinch.com/blog/" target="_blank">link</a> for more food for thought.</div>
Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-86475779541418664002018-03-10T20:22:00.000+05:302018-03-10T20:22:10.045+05:30The dark alleys<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Written for Photo prompt for Wrimo India Activity <a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"tn":"*N","type":104}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/fridayfiction" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none;">#FridayFiction</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4p26Vl1v2o/WqPwdUZWcsI/AAAAAAAASB4/pDjTFs9QWqI9SajrkN4ZBi0EXaHye73uACLcBGAs/s1600/Photoprompt.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="636" data-original-width="822" height="247" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z4p26Vl1v2o/WqPwdUZWcsI/AAAAAAAASB4/pDjTFs9QWqI9SajrkN4ZBi0EXaHye73uACLcBGAs/s320/Photoprompt.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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It took a while for him to adjust his eyes to the darkness. He could now see the long corridor converge into the black. Cold, he shivered. He looked around to find the source of dampness. His ears twitched at the faint voices and he moved forward towards them. He pulled the hood over his head and buried his hands into the pockets.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The stairs were to the right. He tapped his foot on the first step in indecision and then climbed up. At the top, he stood facing a wall of black. He could hear faint voices. They spoke without turns making it difficult to understand. Suddenly he saw a burning red ember shot across him. In an attempt to dodge it, he stepped back and almost tumbled down, almost. He saw the ember flew in a sharp arc to the right where it hit a blue ember. The blue ember bounced around under the impact. He saw some flickers burst out of both, more embers generated. They were multiplying, fewer blues, more red. They flew around and attacked each other. With each impact, they multiplied. There were more voices now. All talking at once. There was sobbing, wheezing, crying but not a person was in sight. He looked around and saw another fleet of stairs going up. </div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He walked up to the next floor. There was a faint light there. It was open and vacant. He could feel the presence of nothing. He found his body stunned as the calmness engulfed him. The hair on his body stood at the sound of silence. He ran back down. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The floor down was now illuminated with blue and red ember zapping across. There was utter chaos, he felt better. The voices had turned into shouts and screams. He closed his ears and sat down watching the spectacle with interest. Then suddenly it struck him, the voices were all his. </div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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A shock ran through his body and he ran down the stairs, through the corridor, through the consciousness of his mind. It looked long and unending. Memories came rushing towards him, hitting him, identifying themselves as he ran through the dark alleys of his mind. Then he stopped and turned. His feet ran to the first floor into the pandemonium. He sighed. He felt at home.</div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-72390834181812318992018-02-03T10:59:00.000+05:302018-02-03T10:59:03.615+05:30Beyond reach<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>Love is not velvety touch</i><br />
<i>it isn't the soft colours</i><br />
<i>it is the fragrance that pass</i><br />
<i>through everything and anything</i><br />
<i>to reach you...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i></div>
Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-86699608942522137192018-01-27T10:56:00.000+05:302018-01-27T10:56:11.229+05:30stay away<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">stay away</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">from my hear</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">some rest it needs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">the bruises beyond repair</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">the seams undone</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i plead</span></div>
Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-16591705414910136262017-04-08T18:41:00.000+05:302017-04-08T18:41:42.724+05:30The Ghosts of Nagasaki: Book Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1438091711l/16003161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Ghosts of Nagasaki" border="0" height="200" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1438091711l/16003161.jpg" width="125" /></a><br />
<h2 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 20px;"><b>The Ghosts of Nagasaki </b></span><span class="by smallText" style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 14px;">by</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span itemprop="author" itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Person" style="color: #181818; font-family: Lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><a class="authorName" href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1254945.Daniel_Clausen" itemprop="url" style="color: #333333; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 19.8px; text-decoration-line: none;"><span itemprop="name">Daniel Clausen</span></a> <span class="greyText" style="color: #aaaaaa;">(Goodreads Author)</span></span></h2>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Loved this book! Anyone who loves Japanese writers, the loneliness and despair in their writing will love this book. However there is one major difference, Japanese books go down and under and end with tragedy, but Clausen got the protagonist in the book bounce back and become hope himself. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The book is brilliant, I would have given it 5 stars but held back 1 star for some beginning & middle sections where the story ran in circles. But it does add to the story overall. When I began reading, I found all the characters stereotyped, specially the Japanese and wondered if this will continue. But thankfully Clausen introduced some new characters in the mid. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The depressed protagonist, a foreigner in Tokyo, who is almost on the verge of loosing his heart (literally) takes us through his surreal life, where we meet a monster, albeit a gentle one, ghosts, spirits... these layers, nothing but the part of us positive and negative, memories etc. I was super impressed with the writing. I would be picking more of Clausen's work. I am a Japanophile and I think - Clausen is too.</div>
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<b>Who will like:</b><br />
If you like Japanese writings<br />
If you like surrealism<br />
If you like stories with complex plots<br />
<br />
<b>Who <i>may </i>not like:</b><br />
Any of above<br />
Character driven books, this not plot driven<br />
If you don't like stories moving back and forth<br />
Dark<br />
<br />
If you think, you fit in the 'Like', I promise you will add this author to your to-read shelf.<br />
<br /></div>
Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-48876469283642937232017-04-02T22:59:00.002+05:302017-04-02T22:59:15.268+05:30My to-read shelf with Titles starting with 'B' #AtoZChallenge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lhChgrdGo-E/WKB3I66T3zI/AAAAAAAAXKw/bNR-VPjwhHEAj5J0H6hPE6aKJgeHNbwxACLcB/s1600/B.jpg" /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
In this post, I have listed all books on my To-Read shelf with titles starting with 'B'. 'Battle Royale' is one book which I want to pick from a long time now. I am currently reading 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' and enjoying it. </div>
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<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 582px;">
<colgroup><col style="mso-width-alt: 13494; mso-width-source: userset; width: 277pt;" width="369"></col>
<col style="mso-width-alt: 4900; mso-width-source: userset; width: 101pt;" width="134"></col>
<col style="mso-width-alt: 2889; mso-width-source: userset; width: 59pt;" width="79"></col>
</colgroup><tbody>
<tr height="40" style="height: 30.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl68" height="40" style="height: 30.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369"><nobr><b>Title</b></nobr></td>
<td align="left" class="xl67" style="border-left: none; width: 101pt;" width="134"><b>Author</b></td>
<td class="xl69" style="border-left: none; width: 59pt;" width="79"><b>Goodreads Rating</b></td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">
Battle Royale</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Takami,
Koushun</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.24</td>
</tr>
<tr height="40" style="height: 30.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="40" style="border-top: none; height: 30.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Berlin Noir: March Violets / The Pale Criminal /
A German Requiem</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Kerr,
Philip</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.22</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and
Life</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Lamott,
Anne</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.22</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">
Before the Dawn</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Shimazaki,
Tōson</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.17</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Blackbird</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Lauck,
Jennifer</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.07</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Blackbird Fly</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Kelly,
Erin Entrada</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.06</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">
Balloon Animals</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Dunne,
Jonathan</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.01</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">
Becoming a Writer</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Brande,
Dorothea</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">4.01</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Cahalan,
Susannah</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">3.99</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Black Rain</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Ibuse,
Masuji</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">3.97</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">
Be With You</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Ichikawa,
Takuji</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">3.93</td>
</tr>
<tr height="20" style="height: 15.0pt;">
<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Breakfast at Tiffany's</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Capote,
Truman</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">3.89</td>
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<td align="left" class="xl72" height="40" style="border-top: none; height: 30.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">Bryson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words: A
Writer's Guide to Getting It Right</td>
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Bill</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">3.86</td>
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<td align="left" class="xl72" height="20" style="border-top: none; height: 15.0pt; width: 277pt;" width="369">
Beat the Reaper (Peter Brown #1)</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Bazell,
Josh</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">3.79</td>
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Bad Monkeys</td>
<td align="left" class="xl66" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">Ruff, Matt</td>
<td class="xl70" style="border-left: none; border-top: none;">3.61</td>
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*Written for the A to Z Challenge. For more info on Challenge, visit <a href="http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/">A to Z Challenge Blog</a>. </div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-33484878745098827852017-04-01T23:58:00.000+05:302017-04-02T00:26:44.385+05:30Author that takes us on journey into history - Amitav Gosh #AtoZChallenge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My theme for A to Z Challenge is 'Characters'. But it's already 10:30 pm and I haven't written a word. After pulling many Goodreads book pages and IMDB movie pages, I am still struggling to settle on a character. Finally I move up the concept and choose the maker of the characters. My favourite author - Amitav Gosh. </div>
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<b>Amitav Gosh
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The Circle of Reason [France’s Prix Médicis in 1990]<br />
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The Shadow Lines [Sahitya Akademi Award and the Ananda Puraskar]</div>
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In An Antique Land</div>
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Dancing in Cambodia</div>
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The Calcutta Chromosome [Arthur C. Clarke award for 1997]</div>
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The Glass Palace [International e-Book Award, Frankfurt book fair in 2001]</div>
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The Hungry Tide [Crossword Book Prize, 2005]</div>
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The Ibis Trilogy [Man Booker Prize Shortlisted, 2008, Crossword Book Prize, India Plaza Golden Quill Award]</div>
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Amitav Ghosh was awarded Padma Shri in January 2007, one of India’s highest honours, by the President of India. And in 2010, along with Margaret Atwood, he was also a joint winner of a Dan David Award for 2010. And this is not all. You can read more about him and his accomplishments on his <a href="http://www.amitavghosh.com/bio.html" target="_blank">website</a>.</div>
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Even after reading above honors, if you still need reasons, here are few -</div>
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<b>Master Story-weaver with </b><b>Extra-ordinary stories of intriguing characters that will awe you with history and knowledge that you will gather and mesmerize you with beautiful poetic language. </b></div>
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Pick any book written by Gosh, not one you will find similar to any other. All his books have large canvas with extra-ordinary backdrop. The best example to mention here is <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/series/59478-ibis-trilogy" target="_blank">Ibis Trilogy</a>. With three books <span itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.4px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3; text-decoration: none;"><a class="bookTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1330324.Sea_of_Poppies" itemprop="url" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14.4px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3; text-decoration: none;">Sea of Poppies</a>, </span><span itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.4px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3; text-decoration: none;"><a class="bookTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9783627-river-of-smoke" itemprop="url" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14.4px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3; text-decoration: none;">River of Smoke</a></span> and <span itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.4px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3; text-decoration: none;"><a class="bookTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21375203-flood-of-fire" itemprop="url" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14.4px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.3; text-decoration: none;">Flood of Fire</a>. </span>he onboard us on a journey centuries back on the ship, which makes its way from the poppy fields of India to Mauritis to Hong Kong to China. The varied characters with their own history are painted so beautifully that you feel connected to them.</div>
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<i>Do you know the origin of our special Chai & Samosa that we are so proud, is China? </i>His books is a fun way of building knowledge. I had loved all of his books, but my favourite is - <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/77103.The_Glass_Palace?ac=1&from_search=true" target="_blank">The Glass Palace</a>.</div>
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The Glass Palace: Set in Burma during the British invasion of 1885 book tells the story of Rajkumar, a poor boy lifted on the tides of political and social chaos, who goes on to create an empire in the Burmese teak forest. When soldiers force the royal family out of the Glass Palace and into exile, Rajkumar befriends Dolly, a young woman in the court of the Burmese Queen, whose love will shape his life. He cannot forget her, and years later, as a rich man, he goes in search of her. </div>
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Before ending, posting some of his quotes from books:</div>
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“It is madness to think that knowing a language and reading a few books can create allegiances between people. Thoughts, books, ideas, words – if anything, they make you more alone, because they destroy whatever instinctive loyalties you may once have possessed.” ― <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/40675361">Flood of Fire</a></blockquote>
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“The truth is, sir, that men do what their power permits them to do. We are no different from the Pharaohs or the Mongols: the difference is only that when we kill people we feel compelled to pretend that it is for some higher cause. It is this pretence of virtue, I promise you, that will never be forgiven by history.” ― <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1319808">Sea of Poppies</a></blockquote>
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“People like my grandmother, who have no home but in memory, learn to be very skilled in the art of recollection.” ― <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1319834">The Shadow Lines</a></blockquote>
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“The absence of food doesn't make a man forsake hunger-it only makes him hungrier .” ― <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/14673463">River of Smoke</a></blockquote>
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“when merchants and traders begin to run wars – hundreds of lives depend on bribes.” ― <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/40675361">Flood of Fire</a></blockquote>
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Written for the A to Z Challenge. For more info on Challenge, visit <b style="background-color: white; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15.4px;"><span style="font-family: "courier new"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="background: rgb(204, 204, 204);"><a href="http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/" style="color: #33aaff; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: blue;">A to Z Challenge Blog</span></a></span>.</span></b> </div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-80035769147274143632017-03-13T22:32:00.002+05:302017-03-13T22:40:59.995+05:30A to Z Challenge 2017<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>A to Z Blogging Challenge</b></div>
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I have been on and off my blog. But for the month of April, I pledge I will write every day. I thought about what would I write. A number of themes crossed my mind. Movies, Poetry, Art etc. But finally today I have decided, my theme would be <b><span style="font-size: large;">Characters</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
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Every day in the month of April, I will pick a character from a <span style="font-size: large;">Book </span>or <span style="font-size: large;">Movie</span> and write about him/her/it - what was interesting, funny etc about them.</div>
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To know more about A to Z Challenge, visit - <a href="http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/" target="_blank">A to Z Page</a></div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-63303910008607890872017-01-14T18:40:00.004+05:302017-01-14T18:40:37.895+05:30Under<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-31340012958483949122017-01-08T11:36:00.002+05:302017-01-08T11:36:32.274+05:30Indication<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y9mCozXUsAA/WHHWkM2iDlI/AAAAAAAAI-o/YE3YFjfxn7Mlc5hp-Z5Y8LTD8BmRY7c7QCLcB/s1600/32033629546_9b6710abe1_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y9mCozXUsAA/WHHWkM2iDlI/AAAAAAAAI-o/YE3YFjfxn7Mlc5hp-Z5Y8LTD8BmRY7c7QCLcB/s1600/32033629546_9b6710abe1_m.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="text-align: left;">photocredit: marcel.roentzsch </span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/130053691@N03/32033629546" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">empty</a><span style="text-align: left;"> via </span><a href="http://photopin.com/" style="text-align: left;">photopin</a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/" style="text-align: left;">(license)</a></span></td></tr>
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It's in silence, where the conversation never ends.</div>
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The truth is, it's not meant to be that way.</div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-91362422180742468352016-04-30T23:09:00.001+05:302016-04-30T23:09:41.563+05:30Cry<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I closed my ears to the<br />
pounding sound<br />
of water patting<br />
on the cold metal<br />
as my tears fell<br />
on her steel heart<br />
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-87734420011189328932016-04-24T16:05:00.001+05:302016-08-27T20:38:31.467+05:30Value<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
No matter how big a mountain you cut down for someone,<br />
In the end, no one can <i>feel </i>the deepness of the gashes but you...<br />
Not even <i>that special someone..</i><br />
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-39692884858318029962016-01-23T14:31:00.004+05:302016-01-23T14:32:57.153+05:30Mirror<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-f6cd2ebb-6db0-4900-8c15-1b472f490c8a"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Sometimes you don't even know you are thirsty until someone mentions water.</span></span></span></blockquote>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-65232187038169010732015-12-27T23:48:00.000+05:302015-12-27T23:59:22.105+05:30Awaken Your Force<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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How was 2015? I think I know your answer.<br />
Wouldn't you agree if I say Life has become<br />
like that corridor where you're racing through<br />
between the two rooms, home and office.You<br />
just pass powerlessly each &every single day<br />
without any meaning. Sadly Life has turned<br />
into a passing. Either we are rushing through</div>
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or lazying through. Wake up, rush to office.</div>
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Return home, sleep <u>Replay</u> & In between, fill </div>
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the gaps. BUT <i>It is time to stop and think. </i><br />
<i>Time </i><i>to renovate that </i><i>corridor. </i><i>Add spice and </i><br />
<i>power t</i><i>o the </i><i>gadget on your desk. <b>Presenting</b> </i><br />
<i><b>HP Star Wars Special edition laptop.</b></i><i>Alluring </i><br />
<i>look, P</i><i>owerful </i><i>processing. Infuse Inspiration</i><br />
<i>int</i><i>o </i><i>your </i><i>undervalued </i><i>left brain with A</i><i>urebesh</i><br />
<i>,Story </i><i>boards, photos, e</i><i>-book excerpts & more </i><br />
<i>to </i><i>give </i><i>you </i><i>t</i><i>hat </i><i>first kick. </i><b><i>Awaken </i><i>your Force</i></b><br />
<i>It is </i><i>time to </i><br />
Jump </div>
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out </div>
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of </div>
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the </div>
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BOX </div>
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I got that first creative kick when I saw the Special edition laptop first look video. My mind was rolling and jumping as I read about the laptop features and the alluring contest - HP Star Wars Fun Side Challenge. Thankfully it hopped out of inertia real quick. I let my left brain play with ideas and designed the poster below - the highlightes of the inspirational laptop. I am sure all of these features would be appealing to you. For me it's the look, powerful design and the access to the Star Wars Universe. To know more on the detailed specification and to own the powerful gadget, you can visit <a href="http://ww.hpshopping.in/starwars">ww.hpshopping.in/starwars</a> </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YhsY7ky65Dw/Vn4Wd9YjVMI/AAAAAAAAGkY/ZMtvWcJBR6Y/s1600/HP%2BSpecial%2BEdition%2BLaptop%2BMegha.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-right: 1em;"><img height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YhsY7ky65Dw/Vn4Wd9YjVMI/AAAAAAAAGkY/ZMtvWcJBR6Y/s640/HP%2BSpecial%2BEdition%2BLaptop%2BMegha.png" style="border: 10px solid black;" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here's first look video of HP Star WarsTM Special Edition Notebook</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/v2Y23KXIISA/0.jpg" frameborder="5" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/v2Y23KXIISA?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6hhytxo-OHU/Vn4ik7yzDoI/AAAAAAAAGk4/YrVokLk86j0/s1600/Lightsaber_red.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="92" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6hhytxo-OHU/Vn4ik7yzDoI/AAAAAAAAGk4/YrVokLk86j0/s320/Lightsaber_red.png" width="320" /></a></div>
#AwakenYourForce</div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-10171628605080212402015-10-11T02:35:00.000+05:302017-10-29T23:49:05.717+05:30The Ugly Introduction<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This post has been published by me as a part of <b>Blog-a-Ton 56</b>; the fifty-sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write.
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<b>The Ugly Introduction</b></div>
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He felt his body stiffening. He stood up with a jerk, the chair falling back and hurried to the bedroom. He could hear her calling as the door banged behind him. In the dark, his shivering body slipped down to the floor. No matter how hard he tried to hold himself together, the eyes that gleamed from the commercial had once again cracked opened the door of abyss. As his body sweated profusely and black and white screens flashed slow and fast, he shut his eyes tight trying to control its progress. Stopping himself from screaming, he turned himself into a tight ball. It was uncontrollable and unbearable as the eyes appeared from everywhere. His mind had stopped except for a desperate wish to reverse ... </div>
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Andy looked at the watch, it was 1 am, never had he been out so late. He prayed to get the last train while he lazily stepped down the stairs into the underground train station. It was his daily routine but the change of hour, the empty passage and the silence transformed the environment into a far away and rather unpleasant setting. His body was tense, perhaps sensing something unnatural, when he heard someone laughing, some men, in between there were cries of appeal and threats. This sound was of woman. He stopped and peeped, hiding behind a pillar. The platform was almost dark but the flickering halogen threw light to the scene with sinister intentions.</div>
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He saw a woman shoved to the platform floor. There were four young men surrounding her in a circle. Three of them looking at her with their backs to him and one on the other side frisking a bag. Andy shuddered at the gruesomeness of the reality before him. He was an ordinary man with an ordinary life. His heart pounded and mind alerted at the explicit sensitivity of the situation, perhaps he should call the police. He took another look at the men. They all looked to be in twenties, strong, each throwing threatening vibes around. His jaw dropped when he saw one of them carrying a hockey stick, wiggling in circle at his feet. He felt all the strength leaving his body.</div>
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<i>Perhaps he should leave the place, but he was a responsible citizen. Wouldn't a responsible citizen would call the police?</i> Slowly he pulled the phone from his pocket, but his shivering hands slipped it off to the floor. He struggled to catch it but his body made enough noise before the phone clattered to the floor. Heads turned and all eyes were on him. His hands trembled as he dropped to the floor to collect the dropped phone and heart which had slipped with a skipping beat. He looked up as a pair of shoes appeared before his eyes and a hand fell on his shoulder.</div>
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“So we have audience, isn’t that interesting?”, the man before him said. He was handsome but his eyes beamed with malevolence. The man pulled him up and pushed towards the group. He kept his eyes glued to the floor throughout the humiliation, moving slowly and silently. His felt his mouth dry and sealed. “What should we do with this one?”, the same man continued.</div>
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The others looked at Andy in amusement. He looked at them, one after another. Each of them were young but their gestures were outright twisted. The outcasts scowled at him, perhaps pondering what good could be extracted from a boring man standing before them. One of them came towards him. He was burly and others stopped speaking as he moved. Andy guessed him to be their leader.</div>
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“Were you calling the police?”, he asked in a heavy hoarse voice, head tilted slightly. The question did not reach Andy’s ears until he tasted blood in his mouth. He kept mum but was now alert as the whole scene hit him with a new blow. There was a mix of bouts of laughter and cries.</div>
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“Are you a man?”, the leader asked.</div>
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“Huh?”, it was all that came out of his mouth as he starred at the leader. The others cheered at the question.</div>
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The leader took his chin and twisted it to face the girl. “Look at her, how is she?”, the leader asked and pushed him towards her. Andy almost fell on her but balanced himself, she let out another cry. “Please”, she pleaded. He gulped inside the metallic taste in his mouth.</div>
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Another bout of laughter, and more shouts rose, “Fuck her! Fuck her!”.</div>
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His wary eyes on floor landed on her feet, one was in high heel and other without. She stood awkwardly but her feet were white and beautiful, very very beautiful. His eyes hurried up making note of the curves and swells. She was young and extremely beautiful, her skin unnaturally white, as if moulded from milk. He took another gulp as his eyes registered yet another un-ordinary reality.</div>
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“Will he fuck her?”, the others were shouting, “Are you a man? Or you are just another shit from that fucking city?”</div>
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Andy's breathing was growing faster and there was something stirring inside him. Anger was rising. “I am not a shit! I am a good man!” he shouted turning away.</div>
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“Good Man?, more laughs erupted. "You are like us, inside. I will show you how good you are”, the leader shouted hitting him again. When the leader waved, the guy with hockey struck one of the lights. The leader came closer to him and whispered, “We have made it easy now”, a little too friendly that gave him goosebumps. Andy now looked at the leader with increasing obedience. The leader repeated calmly, “I can see it in you, you <i>are </i>one of us”. Andy shook his head. His anger was increasing, the laughter around rising. The young girl was pleading, her cries increasing. The whole chaos was grubbing his mind, his heart had already fallen out. Only a dim but profound sound from his mind seemed to be alive. It was calling, “Look at her, look at her”. <i>He was angry but on whom?</i></div>
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“I won’t!” he shouted. The leader grunted and shoved Andy towards the girl again, this time he felt over her. She shoved him away but it was too late. The current has passed through him and he was all over her, clinging her body, his weight holding her down. The dimness was making it worse, there was new uncontrollable feeling rising inside him. “We are going”, the men laughed. “He is worse then us”, he heard them, laughing, banging around with the hockey. The sound of the feet moving away was slowly registering in his mind.</div>
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The girl was shaking all over as she cried, “You are a good man, please let me go“. He sat over her, his eyes devouring the torn clothes, exposed skin, pink lips curled down. What shook him were her eyes, which were like an overflowing pond. He saw a reflection in the tears which pierced through him but only for a moment. Just like a stone thrown in pond creating ripples, the tears blurred the reflection and the man in them lost it’s identity. <i>He was some body else now.</i> The girl cried and pushed him but the outlaw inside him was now in control and the body under him real. He did what a good man would not have done.</div>
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The voice was returning albeit in a drool as he got up. He looked at himself and buttoned his cuffs, pinched the collar together and tidied his pants. the mess that he had become, trying to reverse the inside out. He walked towards the exit of the tunnel avoiding looking back. <i>Perhaps the tunnel was sinister, it had sullied him, he shouldn't stay they any longer.</i> When he reached the stairs and was to cross the threshold, he looked back. The girl was wobbling on her unsteady feet, half unconscious, hurt and bleeding. <i>Was that me?</i> A horn sounded behind her with the headlights flashing. She was <i>too </i>close to the edge. In the light he saw her eyes and in them, a reflection. He ran away from the tunnel.</div>
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Six months had passed. Those eyes still came back without any warning. He stuffed fist inside his mouth and shouted with all his might. Slowly his breathing was getting steady and body recovering. When he opened the door, his wife came running towards him, “Are you okay? What is this that happens to you? Why don’t you tell me? Perhaps I can help”, she was pleading. </div>
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Thoughts ran inside his mind, he knew the secret was eating him. But he couldn’t make himself look at her, he was afraid of another teary eyes, afraid of the reflection in them, of the animal who he thought he had left behind in the tunnel.</div>
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“Stop it! …Forgive me...”, he cried and ran out of the house. He kept running wherever his feet took him. But even as he ran, he knew, he can run forever, but what he is running from is inside him, the tunnel with flickering lights. But … even if he wants, he cannot kill the beast. Because... he was a coward, he was a good man, but made of flesh, of weak will, or perhaps there was someone else hiding behind the drapes.<br />
<br />
What can he do? He has a heart but it falls off, a conscience but it gets lost, <i>with convenience</i>. </div>
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He stopped, turned back and dragged himself towards his house.</div>
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<blockquote>
The <b>fellow Blog-a-Tonics</b> who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective <b>posts</b> can be checked <a href="http://www.blogaton.in/2015/10/blogaton56.html"><b>here</b></a>. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following <b><a href="http://blogaton.in/">Blog-a-Ton</a></b>. Participation Count: 22. </blockquote>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-22327995217851072912015-09-19T23:18:00.001+05:302015-12-26T15:01:45.669+05:30You can always come home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some songs speak the truth. A truth which is well-known to everyone. You, me, her, him... But how much do we understand. If I say I understand <i>Truth</i>, I am only pretending I know. I love the song 93 million miles' by Jason Mraz. It's a beautiful song where Mraz sings it simply over a guitar.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>93 million miles</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>93 million miles from the Sun, people get ready get ready,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>'cause here it comes, it’s a light, a beautiful light, over the horizon into our eyes</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Oh, my my how beautiful, oh my beautiful mother</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>She told me, "Son, in life you’re gonna go far, if you do it right you’ll love where you are</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Just know, wherever you go, you can always come home"</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>240 thousand miles from the Moon, we’ve come a long way to belong here,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>To share this view of the night, a glorious night, over the horizon is another bright sky</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Oh, my my how beautiful, oh my irrefutable father,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>He told me, "Son, sometimes it may seem dark, but the absence of the light is a necessary part.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Just know, you’re never alone, you can always come back home"</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Ohh…ohh…ohh…</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Ohh…ohh…ohh…</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>You can always come back</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Every road is a slippery slope</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>There is always a hand you can hold onto.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Looking deeper through the telescope</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>You can see that your home’s inside of you.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Just know, that wherever you go, no you’re never alone, you will always get back home</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Ohh…ohh…ohh…</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>93 million miles from the Sun, people get ready get ready,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>'cause here it comes it’s a light, a beautiful light, over the horizon in to our eyes…</i></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="line-height: 19.7682px;">The below lines strikes a chord in you. Every one of us have been there, the tiring path up the hill or groping for hold over situation in the dark. Many of us have asked the questions, what is the meaning of all this?</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.7682px;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span style="line-height: 19.7682px;">"</span><span style="line-height: 19.7682px; text-align: center;">Son, in life you’re gonna go far, if you do it right you’ll love where you are</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="display: inline !important;">
<div style="display: inline !important;">
<i><span style="line-height: 19.7682px;">Just know, wherever you go, you can always come home</span><span style="line-height: 19.7682px;">"</span></i></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 19.7682px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 19.7682px;"><i>"Son, sometimes it may seem dark, but the absence of the light is a necessary part.</i></span></div>
</div>
<div style="margin: 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 19.7682px;"><i style="line-height: normal;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.7682px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.7682px;"></span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="line-height: 19.7682px;"><i>Just know, you’re never alone, you can always come back home"</i></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 19.7682px;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="line-height: 19.7682px;">"</span><span style="text-align: center;">You can see that your home’s inside of you."</span></i></span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That sounds true. <i>If I do it right, I will love it. The darkness does bring meaning to the light. And after all there is always home to come back. </i>But what is home? What does the word mean? What if you are still searching this place called home? What is one suppose to do?</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.747px; line-height: 19.7682px;"><br /></span></div>
Do <i>you </i>know?<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.747px; line-height: 19.7682px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.747px; line-height: 19.7682px;">*</span></div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-8489218348147709652015-06-14T10:41:00.001+05:302015-06-17T22:47:23.720+05:30The garlic soup<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<blockquote>
This post has been published by me as a part of <b>Blog-a-Ton 55</b>; the fifty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rashmi-Kumar/311383238048" target="_blank">Rashmi Kumar</a>, the author of <a href="http://bit.ly/HLSRashmiKumar" target="_blank">Hooked, Lined and Single</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jy0tiar0ra" target="_blank">Jyoti Arora</a>, the author of <a href="http://bit.ly/LemonGirlJyotiAroraFK" target="_blank">Lemon Girl</a>.</blockquote>
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<img height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4Mo4OghRjvc/VWVj58gD4NI/AAAAAAAASM8/FB00fuxlZ1U/s320/1280px-Monsoon.jpg" width="320" /></div>
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The weather had been unchanging for past few days. Monsoon was supposed to be romantic for many. But for me it was a reason of my bad health. My head was hurting so badly I was afraid it would split open the very moment. However it didn't and kept on hurting more. I put down the bottle of aspirin on the table and walked to the window. It was pitch dark outside. The clock above the window showed 9 pm.<br />
<br />
I watched the rain coming down in sheets. As if the heavy sound of downpour was not enough, the waterfall some distance away drummed like an attacking tank drawing closer, inch by inch. When the lightning flashed, followed by a deafening thunder, my head almost cracked and I cringed. But just a split second before my eyes closed, I saw something. Or someone. In the veranda. Under the berry tree.<br />
<br />
Like I said, it had been this way for past few days followed by nights. However I hadn't seen anyone under that tree earlier. I remember this clearly because it was planted by me in my childhood and I have watered it and have seen it grow to a big red berry tree. It is my favorite pass-time to watch it, shutting down my mind. So there was no one near my house a few hours back, rather nobody wanders in vicinity of my house. So coming back to this person, <i>yes it was a person</i>. I wondered who would it be. I have last seen a person months back. I have all the necessities stored in the attic. I live with myself, alone.<br />
<br />
Still wondering, I switched on the lamppost, I saw it was a female.<br />
As I walked to the drenched woman, I saw her eyes changing emotions and I was lost in thoughts. What was she thinking? Does she fear me? Is she relieved. However I couldn't really make out. When I reached the tree, I held the umbrella over her head and we walked back. However she stood by the door while I entered the front door of the house. When I looked back at her, the question she asked confused me. Water was dripping from her head and face. She asked me, "Will you be fine if I come in?" Why would she ask? I just nodded and went inside to get her some dry clothes.<br />
<br />
Later when she was back into my dry clothes, to my surprise, she asked for red wine and said she can prepare garlic soup for me. These are my favorite, something I would want to have served over my deathbed. I nodded again, thinking how this lady would know about them, trying to recollect her face. But I couldn't. No matter how much I tried, I simply couldn't. I finally resigned and asked her if I knew her. Yes, off-course, she said. "But you wouldn't recollect now. You would soon", she said. I shrugged and waited for the soup to arrive.<br />
<br />
We first had the soup as we sat by the window and watch the rain fall. "Life has not been that pleasant for you, isn't it?" she asked. I didn't say anything. Who knows who she was, it was better she did the talking. I was sure over the conversation, I would figure out her identity.<br />
<br />
"Do you still go out to the ravine back towards the waterfall? How is the kind woman in that hut. I still remember the day when you hurt yourself falling down the tree stealing the fruits from her orchard. And when she treated your wound and gave you garlic soup, you were all smiles. I still remember your happy face. Do you remember?"<br />
<br />
I looked at her and laughed out loud, I don't know why. All I remember then was the woman's corpse floating in the waterfall. <i>She was a kind woman</i>, I could remember though, but albeit distantly, little more imaginary than reality. I told the lady so.<br />
<br />
"That indeed was a tragedy", the lady said with a loud sigh. As we finished the soup, I poured ourselves wine. As she held the glass she looked beautiful, any guy would have fallen for her. I told her so to which she asked if I have fallen for her.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>It's beyond my capacity</i>, I said to myself and instead asked her, "Aren't you afraid?"<br />
<br />
She gave surreptitious laugh and whispered something into my ears which I couldn't comprehend.<br />
<br />
"What did you say? How do you know about me?" I asked her worriedly.<br />
<br />
It was very queer night, and the woman strange. I felt insecure as if she was binding me. The time seemed to have stopped into the night and the rain had swept us along with the house into a sea typhoon. Everything seemed to be tumbling, up and down. I looked at the glass in my hand, it was straight up but my hand was shaking, perhaps in awareness of something my mind couldn't comprehend. I looked at the woman one more time and asked again.<br />
<br />
"What did you say? How do you know about me?" I was getting hysterical.<br />
<br />
She smiled. And as she did, I felt something was heaved up from my memory dump. And I writhed in an anticipation.<i> Stop.</i> I wanted to say. But she kept smiling. And then she came close and looking into my eyes, she spoke in a very soft voice.<br />
<br />
"Martin, just listen to me. You <i>are </i>important"<br />
<br />
I looked at her puzzled. But her smile and her words were soothing and somehow calmed my anxiety and surprisingly I was feeling at peace slowly. I looked at the wine glass. It was still full. It wasn't the alcohol but the woman who's demeanor was working on me.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But was it true? Am I important? It was unfathomable.</i> I kept quiet.<br />
<br />
"Yes. The lady, she was so kind, wasn't she?", she asked.<br />
<br />
"Kind. Yes. She was. But what did she get in return?" I asked, "Bruises and black eye?" My voice was getting edgy again and I feared I will snap. To calm myself I closed my eyes but the woman's corpse floating in the clear river water kept flashing before my eyes. I almost screamed.<br />
<br />
"There is no meaning to this existence! If you were unwanted from the day you are born. Do you know how it feels when everyone abandons you? When people look right through you? When your existence does not matter to even a single person?" My voice was low, trembling.<br />
<br />
"You were never unwanted. Do you really think otherwise? Do you remember the school-boy you saved from drowning. What would have happened if it was not for you to jump into the river and save him?" I looked at this lady who was churning my memories and bringing up what was hidden below the heap.<br />
<br />
She was still smiling. She continued. "You say nobody cares for you. But when you ran away into the woods, who was it who came searching for you?... She searched you every where, calling your name, while you hid in that trunk, listening. You did wanted that woman to find you, didn't you?". When I looked up, I saw she looked right through my defiance. I found my own reflection in her. <i>I did wanted her to find me. I wanted love. I wanted a mother. I wanted a normal life.</i><br />
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"You remember the her bruises. But you do remember the smile that spread on her bruised face. The tears flowing from the swollen eyes the moment she saw you. You ran to her and hugged her tight. Didn't you? Do you remember?"<br />
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"Yes. I did. I really did. She called me son. And I tugged her like a new born. I never knew my biological mother but when I hugged her, I became her son". When I closed my eyes, her face appeared, without bruises, her face smiling, calling me son. I can hear her voice. "Are you hurt? You are trembling son. Don't be afraid. I am here. For you". <i>Don't be afraid. I am here. For you. Don't be afraid. I am here. For you....</i> the words replayed on my mind, the voice filling the void inside me.<br />
<br />
"She tended the tree with you. How will you feel if that tree crashes? Do you want that? It has to be strong, no matter how strong the wind blows. Do you think it will survive this storm?"<br />
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"It will survive. It will survive". I kept muttering. <i>Don't be afraid. I am here. For you....</i> the words still running on my mind.<br />
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When I opened my eyes, I was alone. I felt calm spreading through my body and mind. Something had changed. My heart was light and my mind clear. I felt the urge to have garlic soup, it's warmth passing through my body just with the thought.<br />
<br />
When I looked out the window, the storm had passed and even while it drizzled, it was unusually calm. The cool breeze was flowing but it carried some fragrance which filled me with contentment. I looked at my hand, it was steady. I realized my head no longer hurt and deep inside, I was feeling at peace.<br />
<br />
I threw the bottle of aspirin in the dustbin, it wasn't my last day after all. I made myself a garlic soup. As I drank it spoon by spoon, I watched the water dripping through the leaves and branches of the tree. It had survived the storm.</div>
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<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The <b>fellow Blog-a-Tonics</b> who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective <b>posts</b> can be checked <a href="http://www.blogaton.in/2015/06/blogaton55.html"><b>here</b></a>. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following <b><a href="http://blogaton.in/">Blog-a-Ton</a></b>. Participation Count: 21. Image Credits: <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Monsoon.jpg" target="_blank">Monsoon</a> by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.</div>
</blockquote>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-87298755443404711032015-05-09T20:53:00.000+05:302015-05-10T15:14:47.107+05:30Unknown<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<blockquote>
This post has been published by me as a part of the <b>Blog-a-Ton 54</b>; the fifty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following <a href="http://blogaton.in/"><b>Blog-a-Ton</b></a>.</blockquote>
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<br />
I want to soar high! the young bird said. His words inspired awe among his peers and his parent's chest swelled. Attaboy! they cried. What would you look for? they asked.<br />
<br />
He thought of the question over and over. He looked at the rising sun, the rays stretching and reaching the darkness and vanishing the opaque. The landscape was gaining clarity and so was the dream in his eyes. He flapped his wings, moving restlessly in the nest. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Love! I want to find love! he had answered. Love? they asked with amusement. So you want to soar to search partner? What a waste, they grunted and flew back to their nests.</div>
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<br /></div>
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He didn't mind they taunts. They do not understand. The truth was he wasn't sure himself. What is he after? Love? Did he want to search love? He couldn't convince himself. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He flapped his wings and looked back. His parents were with his younger sibling, contented. It was his last glance. He whispered goodbye, spread his wings and took flight. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The woods were dense, he cut through them reaching higher. The world was beautiful, at times ugly, mostly amusing. As he flew up, he looked around, questioning, is this what he left his nest for? But the answer was never definite. He soared higher and higher. Every where he went, his eyes searched trying to figure something. He knew it was indefinite, the endless, it was beyond his understanding. But he believed, it existed.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As he crossed the various woods, the sizable mountains, the vast oceans, he took rests on some shady branch or clay rooftops. His wings had gained strength yet there was some weakness entering him every time he left one place for the new.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As he pecked into the small green fruit, he looked at the mountain that stood before him, at the pine wood that spread. Is it foolishness? Is it time to give up? Will he have to search forever? He thought but he was without answer. His wings were fluttering in indecisiveness. The moment was pulling him into silence, it's gravity inescapable. The world before him was infinite, with millions of possibilities, and disappoints but also of hope. While branch he was sitting was haven, that his tired body asked for, a relief. Warped in an ugly tug, he hovered up and down over the branch, his wings fluttering... shivering...<i>what should he do?</i></div>
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*</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote>
The <b>fellow Blog-a-Tonics</b> who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective <b>posts</b> can be checked <a href="http://www.blogaton.in/2015/05/blogaton54.html"><b>here</b></a>. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following <b><a href="http://blogaton.in/">Blog-a-Ton</a></b>. Participation Count: 20</blockquote>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-41931836795481682162015-04-29T18:30:00.000+05:302015-04-29T18:30:05.262+05:30Yearn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Yearn</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You ask </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They stay mum</span></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-6320dc7e-cc22-d9bf-56d5-b6b04fb7832d" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You wait</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They smile</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The clock ticks</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And matches your heart</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You ask</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They stay mum</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You be yourself</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They be themselves</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You wait</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They smile</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You ask</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">They stay mum</span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">*</span></div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7106421174838612947.post-91052577155124689272015-04-27T18:30:00.000+05:302015-04-27T18:30:11.363+05:30Wait<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Wait</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When will the door open?</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or at least the window?</span></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-01d8420f-cc1f-4baa-63d0-f24b76b9af75" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I need to know</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or just a glimpse?</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If there would be hope</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or would it be wait forever</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What are you waiting for?</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am tired of standing</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My legs hurt</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sun above drench me in sweat</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am afraid of the blisters</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Would they would poison me</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Please open the door</span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or just the window?</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Before the blisters open</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And bitterness enters</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just once</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just once let me know</span></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Even so, I wait here</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">For you to open the door</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">*</span></div>
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Meghahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08456122349556682811noreply@blogger.com3