Thursday, June 9, 2011

Gospels over the Clouds



Fell in love with these clouds all over again; what if its grey or white,
They carry the same stories of laughter and tears
But its dignity this time in shapes and textures,
And brand new Gospels from angels who are fallen!

They then pour it down with such a deafening roar;
It sounds almost like breaking a dawn in hell, 
Drenching me with all of the sins and illusions
They embrace me for I am taken!

Where should I exile with whole of my body covered-
In thick red blood; it’s clogged and dirty now
And I presume, they were a bunch of Murderers
Loved and raised to be merciless; but I am asked to be quiet-
While wearing these bruises; as a mark of their wisdom.

Clouds, these loyal watchers they glide gently, always vigilant-
Sometimes dropping a shadow over you, over me,
And then tearing her bosom light comes screeching-
Seeking the ones to be found; the messengers of Gospels.

For you are here to preach a cavalry of infidels; 
Its thousands of similar stories, of rage, of deception, of lust,
Of fear, of greed, of everything but human –
What you can’t breathe, can’t swallow, and can’t be understood at times.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Love Locks!

 I have seen beautiful photographs of these locks earlier but did not know of the place and this  bridge. These locks are unbelievably beautiful and definitely worth a few clicks!


You can check the original post here.....

Have a Nice Day!




Monday, May 9, 2011

Faces



Some of these faces, those characters; they seem to be haunting at times...

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Shadows in The Dark - 2



She was a girl who loved the dance of light on every leaf, every petal and every little drop of water. But this time, this time moving shadows fascinated her. Every nightfall brought at her doorsteps wind from farthest east and then she was ready for a walk. Sometimes she could progress reading the patterns over the sky whereas sometimes the wind helped her to reach him because they had never met in the same place. All she knew was that he did not want her to remember the places they have met, but he never missed on their regular meetings.

Those nights had been longer enough she remembers; a few steps alone then sweeping away her boredom he would appear from void. There were no conspiracies in the air even the clouds did not want to spy on them always leaving a clear sky above. What of those moments she did not know; like the fragrance of night flowers and life then was more like a realization of her dreams, all those vague dreams.

She was sure he is not someone who lived over the clouds; his face seldom revealed to her in the night; even now it is not possible for her to give a perfect portrayal of him. She could not believe that a stranger who wandered in the dark caught so much of her attention. She once famous for her notorious silence eventually escaped her perfect sphere of comfort leaving no mark of her abode….

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Shadows in The Dark



She was not even sure if it was right side of the road she was walking. She said it was a long and lonely walk in the dark in a completely new direction; perhaps she was straying in perfect chaos. What drew her to that darkest corner is still a mystery to her because her natural instinct would always stop her from acquiring that much of courage to move in the dark. Although she knew, that have been preserved in the dark is completely deprived of light, she still expected a human. But what appeared before her was an unusual being nothing like what she had ever encountered in her life.

She could hear it all; vague whispers in the air but was swiftly carried away by the wind. Theft was a regular custom out there in the dark but did not seem to be his business. There was no urgency not even a small effort to escape, she felt wholly   in place wanting to have a conversation. As he walked towards her she felt like living one of her stupid dreams; may be taming a wild boar or a wolf. What concealed behind those hazy eyes incited her to talk. She felt those eyes had much more than what the heavens have to say; much beyond her imaginations of an underworld. When he asked her, what brought her to such a dark place, she told him that she had always loved the queer silence in the dark and had seen none ever before.


She did not know if it convinced him for an extended conversation but it seemed to her that he was calm. A few steps together were enough to measure the gravity, strong enough to tread further in the dark. But even in that darkness she could see stains of blood on him what she felt like ignoring for better days of light…..

(I am lazy sometimes…. :))

Monday, March 7, 2011

My Favorite Song




This one song never fails to inspire me. My most favorite movie and song of all time, Enya’s voice is heavenly.



Tuesday, March 1, 2011

THE ONLY PERFECT PICTURE - My Family



I definitely know this is not one of those exciting stories you are probably looking for, but unfortunately this is one of the best stories I have. I was not deliberately searching for some inspiration, but this dawned upon me. Through the last few years this part of my life stories were mostly confined to a single person, this friend of mine who is a perfect counter part of myself. Finally this poor fellow has suggested me to leave an autobiography (funny though) for I am a good story teller; the only thing that grabbed his attention.

All that I have learned from this family is to 'give away' anything and everything at all. The kind of love I've watched over the years while growing up is immense. The love and trust between a man and a woman, my parents, have been quite overwhelming. Having worked as a good police officer he is a man of great courage, strength, hard work and honesty, above all -a man of word; the real man in my life, my Father. I shall wear all the pride of this world to point at this one Man. But I am still puzzled at the reason for my very belonging to this family.

Born in this part of the world to this family brought up among two wonderful guys, my younger brothers, I was offered every ecstasy of life. At the age of 11 when I was sent to the hostel I probably moved with a whole lot of 'him' in me. My early days with the family had taught me that any person who come across in our life  have every right to be treated good and given a chance; no matter if your little act would not get rewarded or even remembered you are here to act like a Human. Many people including relatives and friends, I had seen them all coming into our family like we are one, staying with us for some time, asking us to trust them and finally leaving us like they have never known us.

Best of the things were always given away whether it is a good dress, or some special food prepared at home or anything at all. Despite of having all of these relationships broken over years I still see them trusting people helping them to be in a better place. My trust on those people have all faded away in a long run, but Dad, did you ever realize how badly this has passed onto me? I thought it was me who was alone in the hostel rooms but now I realize you were alone too fighting this whole world, but you never complained.

Many have told me Dad that the stars are jealous of us and want me to be in pain, I trust or not my wounds are still raw. But when I look up to you I see life ahead, the other day when you told me that you trust me with whatever I am, I wanted to burst out more than what I've ever done looking at this treacherous world. I've always loved the way you support Mom, whenever we quarrel you just know how fragile and alone she is without you. No matter you had been rude to me at times I could still be joyous to see how strong you both are in long years of marriage.

I know you are missing every single dream about your little girl but Dad you were remembered at every crucial moment in my life. Thinking about the pain I could be causing you, I was withdrawn. I've always wanted to know what makes you this good on earth. Though we don’t talk much I feel so safe and proud walking next to you; it’s the best feeling in the world Dad. Whenever I sing I remember it’s just because you have been a wonderful singer and when I dance I set myself out to see every happiness you have  ever offered me in this life. I wonder, what I have here without you Dad? Nothing at all.  You are the only truth in my life, who inspires me to trust people knowing that they are never going to return me anything.

When my both hands come together in prayer, this whole universe concise within it starting from you traveling across the world passing all my loved ones it ends in you; you are the best thing ever occurred to me Dad. I just want to remember all the fathers in this whole world who sees an angel in their daughters,   whose prayers keep them strong enough to fight this world. Every good thing about me is yours Dad; and every mistake was mine. Love you so much Dad and i think i want to be born here again as your daughter…

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Scribble Me a L+I+F+E


 When life is more than just a routine how often a person can get bored here? Is this a faulty situation in a normal person’s life or does this make an unusual individual on earth? I wonder, how such a question does ever pop up in my mind leaving me with no other choice than to be curious about what they call experience of yet another situation!

It seems to me that there can’t be a general or universal reception, when man himself is so timid and chaotic. So who does care to keep a count of real-life experiences here? I should say none. Life out here is every single moment that is always vigil, concealed with a greater enigma. But sadly none are dared to encounter it. I wonder if at all there is a Natural Theory which implies that 'strength of a person can't be allured away with a series of misfortunes'.  Well… life here is equipped with no such time period uniformly served for each and every human being to shake off the follies of life. Rather it’s a daily occurrence of obtaining a vision of true self, towards a real Human Being. That is where exactly pure bliss is endured safe & secure.

Generations have born and passed enough just creating a mass of ‘smart’ &‘shrewd’ people here. Is this supposed to be the whole idea of evolution ever happened, for us to take pride on being humans on this planet?  A human, who with every gesture, every deed and every bit of his physical frame wears a crown called 'ego' to stride in his own kingdom. What happened with the most powerful resource ever gifted to the mankind, his conscience? May be we have fallen into a system that has trained us to forget the intimacy between our body, mind and soul. I do realize in the first place that most of us are clueless of the perfect way these things are invariably bonded here.

Though there is a considerable variation among different people in this world we are surely equipped with the same kind of curse, sanity and wisdom, deep down inside in us. A wisdom that distinctively aids us to see much beyond a few pounds of flesh and bone.  This is the kind of ecstasy we humans are here to yearn for, to live for. So give 'us' a chance to be humbled at the mighty marvels of nature, let us rejoice in the tranquility of this 'oneness'. This ‘oneness’ called life and then scribble me… scribble me a life here.

Monday, January 31, 2011

à´µേà´°ുà´•à´³്


മണ്à´£ിà´²്‍ ആഴ്à´¤്à´¤ിà´¯ുറപ്à´ªിà´š്à´š à´µേà´°ുà´•à´³്‍...
à´­ുà´®ിà´¯ുà´Ÿെ à´—à´¨്ധമത്à´°à´¯ും à´µാà´°ി à´ªൂà´¶ിയത് ഇവരാà´£്
അവളുà´Ÿെ à´Žà´£്ണമറ്à´± കഥകള്‍à´•്à´•് à´•ാà´¤ോà´°്‍à´¤്à´¤് ഇവരെà´¨്à´¨ും
ഉണര്‍à´¨്à´¨ിà´°ിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ു....
അവളോ, à´œീവവയുà´µും ജലവും ആഹാà´°à´µും പകര്‍à´¨്à´¨ു ഇവരെ
 à´¤à´¨്‍à´±െ à´®ാà´±ോà´Ÿ് à´šേà´°്‍à´¤്à´¤ിà´°ിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ു
അവളുà´Ÿെ കഥകളിà´²്‍ à´¨ിറഞ്à´žു à´¨ിà´¨്à´¨ ആകാശമത്à´°à´¯ും അവര്‍à´•്à´•്
ആവേà´¶à´®ാà´¯ി...
 à´¶ുà´¨്യതയിà´²്‍ വര്‍ണങ്ങള്‍ à´¨ിറച്à´š്‌;  à´’à´°ു à´®ാà´¨്à´¤്à´°ിà´• വടി à´µീà´¶ി-
à´¸്വര്‍ണഗോളങ്ങള്‍  à´µാà´°ി à´µിതറുà´¨്à´¨ ആകാà´¶à´¤്à´¤െ അവര്‍ ആരാà´§ിà´š്à´šു...

à´­ുà´®ിà´¯ിà´²െà´•്à´•ിറങ്à´™ിà´¯ à´µേà´°ുà´•à´³്‍ അവരെà´¤്à´° à´¦ുà´°്‍ഭലരാà´¯ിà´°ുà´¨്à´¨ു
മണ്à´£ിà´¨ോà´Ÿ് à´šേà´°്‍à´¨്നവരുà´Ÿെ à´œീവന്‍à´±െ à´¨ാà´®്à´ªുà´•à´³്‍-
à´ˆ à´ª്രപഞ്à´šà´¤്à´¤ിà´¨്‍à´±െ à´µിà´¸്മയക്à´•ാà´´്à´š്à´šà´•à´³ിà´²െà´•്à´•് à´’à´°ുà´™്à´™ി..
à´¦ുà´°à´™്ങളെà´¤്à´° വര്‍à´·à´™്ങളെà´¤്à´° ഉയരങ്ങളെà´¤്à´°à´¯െà´¨്à´¨ു അവരറിà´ž്à´žിà´²്à´²
à´µിà´¶്വചേതനയുà´Ÿെ à´¤ുà´Ÿിà´ª്à´ªുà´•à´³്‍ അളന്à´¨്; à´­ുà´®ിà´¯ുà´Ÿെ ആഴങ്ങളിà´²േà´•്à´•് പടര്‍à´¨്à´¨്‌-
à´µിà´¹ായസ്à´¸ിà´¨ു à´¨േà´°്‍à´•്à´•്‌ ഉയരാà´¨്‍ à´¤ുà´Ÿà´™്à´™ിà´¯ അവര്‍ à´…à´±ിà´ž്à´žു
മദ്à´§്à´¯േ à´µിഹരിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ à´µൈà´°ുà´¦്à´§്യങ്ങളുà´Ÿെ à´’à´°ു à´²ോà´•ം.
à´¨ൈà´®ിà´·ിà´•à´®ാà´¯ à´µിà´•ാà´°à´™്ങള്‍à´•്à´•് à´…à´Ÿിമപ്à´ªെà´Ÿ്à´Ÿ്  à´­ീà´°ുà´¤്à´µം à´§à´°ിà´š്à´š
à´’à´°ു à´œീവലോà´•ം...
സമയത്à´¤െ à´…à´Ÿുà´•്à´•ി à´•ൂà´Ÿ്à´Ÿി, à´’à´°ു à´µൃà´¤്തത്à´¤ിà´¨ുà´³്à´³ിà´²്‍ à´¨െà´Ÿുà´•െà´¯ും-
à´•ുà´±ുà´•െà´¯ും à´¨ിà´°à´¨്തരം à´šà´²ിà´š്à´šു à´•ൊà´£്à´Ÿിà´°ിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ à´† à´²ോà´•ം
അവരെ à´…à´®്പരപ്à´ªിà´š്à´šു.
à´µേà´—à´®േà´±ിà´¯ à´¶à´¬്ദതരംà´—à´™്ങളുà´Ÿെ à´’à´°ു à´¨ിà´°്‍à´—്ഗളപ്à´°à´µാà´¹ം
à´…à´µിà´Ÿെà´¯െà´™്à´™ും à´ª്à´°à´•à´Ÿà´®ാà´£്...
à´’à´°ു പക്à´·െ à´ª്à´°à´•ാà´¶à´¤്à´¤ിà´¨ു à´®ുà´¨്‍à´ªേ സഞ്à´šà´°ിà´š്à´š്‌ à´…à´µ -
à´ˆ à´²ോà´•à´¤്à´¤െ à´…à´¨്à´§à´®ാà´•്à´•ിà´¯ിà´°ിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ു!


à´­ുà´®ിà´¯ുà´Ÿെ à´¨ിà´¶à´¬്à´§à´ª്രണയതിà´¨്à´±െ à´µാഹകര്‍ ഇവരത്à´°േ, à´µൃà´•്à´·à´™്ങള്‍
അവളുà´Ÿെ ആത്à´®ാà´µിà´²േà´•്à´•്  à´µേà´°ോà´Ÿിà´š്à´š് ; ഉണ്മയുà´Ÿെ à´¸ൗà´¨്ദര്യത്à´¤ിà´²്‍ ആറാà´Ÿി-
à´ˆ à´ª്à´°à´•ൃà´¤ിà´¯െ à´’à´°ുà´•്à´•ിà´¯ à´…à´§്à´­ുതപ്à´°à´¤ിà´­ാസങ്ങളാà´£് 
à´ˆ à´µൃà´•്à´·à´™്ങള്‍...
ഇലകളിà´²ും, à´ªൂà´•്à´•à´³ിà´²ും, à´•ാà´¯്à´•à´³ിà´²ും à´šേà´¤ോഹരങ്ങളാà´¯ -
വര്‍ണക്à´•ൂà´Ÿ്à´Ÿുà´•à´³്‍ à´šാà´²ിà´š്à´š്;
à´¨ീലവിഹയസ്à´¸ിà´²െà´•്à´•് à´•à´£്à´£ോà´Ÿിà´š്à´š്, അവര്‍ à´ˆ à´­ുà´®ിà´¯െ മനോഹരിà´¯ാà´¯ി-
à´’à´°ുà´•്à´•ി à´¨ിà´°്‍à´¤്à´¤ുà´¨്à´¨ു...
à´’à´°ു à´šെà´±ുà´•ാà´±്à´±ിà´¨്‍à´±െ  ഓളങ്ങളിà´²്‍ à´ªോà´²ും അവരുà´Ÿെ à´¸ാà´¨ിà´¦്à´§്à´¯ം-
à´¨ിà´°à´¨്തരം à´ˆ à´²ോà´•à´¤്à´¤െ അവര്‍ à´…à´±ിà´¯ിà´š്à´šിà´°ിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ു
à´ªൂà´•്à´•à´³ുà´Ÿെ വര്‍ണങ്ങളത്à´°à´¯ും à´•à´Ÿà´®െà´Ÿുà´¤്à´¤്-
തങ്ങളുà´Ÿെ à´šിറകുà´•à´³ിà´²്‍ വരച്à´šു à´šേà´°്‍à´¤്à´¤ à´®ാà´²ാà´–à´®ാà´°്‍;
à´ˆ à´šിà´¤്രശലഭങ്ങള്‍...
ഇവരോà´Ÿ് à´šേà´°്‍à´¨്à´¨് à´œീവവയുà´µിà´²്‍ പകര്‍à´¨്à´¨ിà´°ിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ു à´ˆ à´µിà´¶്വപ്രണയത്à´¤െ..
പക്à´·ിà´•à´³ോ, à´…à´µ à´®േഘങ്ങളിà´²േà´•്à´•്‌  à´¦ൂà´¤ും à´ªേà´±ി പറന്à´¨ുയരുà´¨്à´¨ു
à´’à´Ÿുà´µിà´²്‍ à´•ാതങ്ങള്‍à´•്à´•à´ª്à´ªുà´±ം à´’à´°ു à´®േഘഗര്‍ജനം à´®ുà´´à´™്à´™ിà´•്à´•െà´³്‍à´•്à´•ുà´®്à´ªോà´³്‍
à´­ുà´®ിà´¯ുà´Ÿെ ഉള്à´¤ുà´Ÿി അവയ്à´•്à´•ൊà´ª്à´ªം à´šെà´°്‍à´¨്à´¨ുണരുà´•à´¯ാà´¯ി
ഇവിà´Ÿെ ജനിà´•്à´•ുà´¨്à´¨ു... à´µേà´°ുà´•à´³ുà´Ÿെ à´’à´°ു à´¤ുà´Ÿà´°്‍à´•്à´•à´¥....



Monday, March 1, 2010

GITANJALI


I HAD gone a-begging from door to door in the village path, when thy golden chariot appeared in the distance like a gorgeous dream and i wondered who was this King of all Kings!

My hopes rose high and i thought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust.

The Chariot stopped where I stood.Thy glance fell on me and thou camest down with a smile. I felt that the luck of my life had come at last. Then of a sudden thou didst hold  thy right hand and say, "What hast thou to give to me?"

Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg! I was confused and stood undecided, and then from my wallet I slowly took out the least little grain of corn and gave it to Thee.

But how great my surprise when at the day's end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little grain of gold among the poor heap.I bitterly wept and wished that I had had the heart to give Thee my all.

Excerpt from Rabindranath Tagore's Gitanjali -- An offering of Songs

Friday, February 19, 2010

Rebuilding the world

A father was trying to read the newspaper, but his little son kept pestering him. Finally, the father grew tired of this and, tearing a page from the newspaper – one that bore a map of the world – he cut it into several pieces and handed them to his son.

‘Right, now you’ve got something to do. I’ve given you a map of the world and I want to see if you can put it back together correctly.’ 

He resumed his reading, knowing that the task would keep the child occupied for the rest of the day. However, a quarter of an hour later, the boy returned with the map.

‘Has your mother been teaching you geography?’ asked his father in astonishment. 
‘I don’t even know what that is,’ replied the boy. ‘But there was a photo of a man on the other side of the page, so I put the man back together and found I’d put the world back together too.’
----------------------------------------        :)        --------------------------------------
---unknown source

BASIC WOOL ANIMAL MINIATURES - VERY FIRST TRY

Something I've always wanted to do, is to play around with wool and it's amazing artistic transformational capabilities. It just su...