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Showing posts from 2009

Chronicles of Heartbeats unheard...

50th day:Dear diary,Hi. I have always been bad at introductions. And I have never tried to talk to an inanimate object before.So excuse me for any loss of etiquettes when I talk to you.When I had asked you to be brought to me this morning, I was half unsure of what I was doing, or wanted to do… if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have made an effort to move my bum, and try to build up a social life with you by sharing things I myself fear to admit. But she forced me into it. My mother.She gets all worked up and sad these days seeing me. I hate her for doing that. But then, she’s the only one I have in times like these… I would be ready to give whatever left of me, if tomorrow she decided to stop doing that. She is to me, what a beam of light is to a dying, ignored plant in a closed empty room.~~I wait, with unrest…For something to happen,That spark to ignite,And blow away,This insouciant thirst,Of end.I wrote it the other day. Sounds tad depressing, right…I was about to scratch it away. B…

A League of Extraordinarily Incorrigible Bastards!

A few important things to know before reading this note.

1. This note is solely dedicated to a motley group of good-for-nothing’s who call themselves as The MOMO’S. They reside on the Fifth Floor washroom of Usha Pravin Gandhi College of Management, and do nothing which can boast of being useful.
2. This is; as is obvious, fiction inspired from reality. All allusions are true to the fullest, but the inferences are not.
3. Special Thanks to one Mr Sahil khamosh and his line; “…But then, Vinay could probably do many other interesting things than painting…”
4. Lastly, for all the girls reading this note, please excuse the callousness of the thing. I May not be serious about it.


Go ahead, enjoy the note.

“Love, my friend exists on one basic principle. I’ll explain. See, consider love as an Apple. Ok. So first, you get an Apple. Then, you get an Orange. Then it becomes a Peach. After that it turns into a Banana. And then…”

Amit trailed off from that point.

Actually Vrushali passed our table. And A…

Gods of Large Things…

“She turned to say it once again: ‘Naaley’.Tomorrow.”A Tomorrow which never comes, but passes off every time in the hide of dirty, murky Today.~^~It was their birthday. Of all of them. Thirty years ago, they all had taken birth. Together. At the same time. Same second of the same hour. They all opened their eyes to the marvels and evils of world together. Under the guiding auspices of Capricorn, they all uttered their first cry together. And entered this daily war with pain and happiness.~ Quote: Sir Salman Rushdie: Shalimar the Clown (2005): “There is earth and there are planets. Earth is not a planet. It’s a grabee. All the other planets grab it and mould its destiny.”They too were the grabee’s of this world. Only they didn’t knew how all of them shared each others lives…~^~Mohan spat with all his might. He spat at the world, which had denied him and made him struggle at each point of his life. A world which took his father with happiness and happiness from his mother. A world which…

Death, My Mother...

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The following story is inspired by looking at the above painting... Its a Salvador Dali called “The Persistence Of Memory”It was actually a College assignment, which I really found to turn out satisfactory. I have experimented with the genre of Surrealism for the first time. I dunno how succesful I have been with Fantasy. I leave the judgement upto you. Even if it manages to touch your Heart for minutest of second, I guess I will have achieved my goal. Enjoy...
The Rose… …Was Red. Crystalline Red. Under the penetrating rays from the moonlight, she became a prism… Mélange of colors shone on her surface like iridescent dewdrops. But she had a sad beauty about herself… As if her soul was withering under the deceptiveness of her glowing façade. Her appearance resembled……The Heart… …Which was beating fast, really fast. Excitedly fast… Anxiety pregnant with expectation pumped in and out from it, confusing everything, and explaining it at the same time. …

Pain

An internal strife gnaws at my soul, scratches it… Bleeds it and slowly… As small rubies start trickling down from it, it starts to feast on the pain, on the fear and desolation that screams out from its voiceless mouth…Just as I broke into the house I broke the glass vase standing on the window ledge too. Chill spread through my spine, as I barely managed to control the jumble of swears tumbling out of my mouth.I stood still for few moments; biding my time… hoping with all might that the place would be deserted… But I was still on enemy’s land and there was no safe haven in the circumstances. A click in the next room confirmed this. I flicked open my eyes and immediately afterwards a door creaked followed by the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps falling down. My heart plummeted. I was fatigued beyond recovery. This war had taken its toll on me… I could barely put up resistance to the torturous, yet continuous struggle it was making me go through… And suddenly, a new smell disturb…

Redemption!

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Ten years ago… India performed miserably at the Cricket World Cup...Ten years ago… The Dot-com Bubble finally burst…Ten years ago… An Indian plane was hijacked with the help of Taliban, on the Christmas Eve…And ten years ago… He had lost his brother forever to an accident…An accident…He walked down the building, through the foyer, across the street and reached the signal crossing in about ten minutes. But he had no recollection whatsoever of those ten minutes. As a matter of fact, he didn’t knew that he had eaten French toast for his morning breakfast, had two full glasses of orange juice and had watched TV news for half an hour since the time he had woken up. He didn’t knew that the sidewalk he was standing on, was covered with huts of varied assortment, and children having similar blackened, soot-laden faces, and women with half the clothes to cover their shame. He didn’t realize that a big fire wagon had blazed past in front of his eyes, which was followed by an equally noisy ambul…