in vacant or in pensive mood

Advertising has sharpened my vision, but hasn't reduced the power of the glasses I wear. What it has increased is my ability to stand back and take notice of the environment and observe. In the past few weeks, certain observations of the my habits and that of others has found it's way to my attention: The Favourite Spot : Don't know if this is just me or with others too but I always have my favourite pee spot in the men's urinal in my office. I notice a lot others too, and see them at the same spot several times. I, for one, love the extremes. At least one side is well hidden. Others seem to prefer the centre. Now I haven't studied this intensely enough to derive things but probably someone could help me conclude the interconnection between one's emotional identity vis-a-vis the persons choice of spot. I am an introvert and probably hence, choose the extreme one which has a wall on either side of me. Those who are extrovert and love to be surrounded my people mi...

Rain.. It's been raining incessantly for a couple of days now and even though the road outside in non-venturable, I love it. Whether it's the thunderous clasps of lightnings, the sudden chill, or the windy gales that make the rain fall almost horizontal and gives one sleepless nights due the the shivering windows, or even the drenched roads that now seem to have a whole new identity - all washed and gulping in the water. For almost 18 years of my life, I have had a memorable affair with rain. Back in Pondicherry, when the monsoons would come by during November, I was forever there to welcome her. And while we rehearsed our drills, getting drenched to the bones and teeth chattering our way to conversations with my friends, she never made me hate her. Even though my dress would get dirty beyond any detergent to wash, or the roads too flooded to walk, let alone cycle, or even the beach road too windy to walk on, I loved her. Getting wet in the rain, I realized later on, was a joy ...

I fell on to the ground with a droning sound reverberating in my left ear. I was slowly losing sight of my surrounding. I was breathing hard and fast and could feel my breathing on my stomach, but slowly, even that began to fade away. And then... silence. I awoke with the noise of the small crowd gradually getting louder and louder and nearer and nearer. My eyes were open and were having difficulty adjusting to the bright light. I could feel my breathing again but this time - slow and controlled and now, my chest was heaving rather than my stomach. I was sweating profusely and the sudden lack of action was generating immense heat within me and I could feel it on my feet and hands. I felt like an ember emanating heat all over. I could feel the warm floor below me, even though it was wet. I also began to feel the heat below my, on my back, even though I was sweating and my banyan drenched. I moved my arms closer to my hips, folded them to help myself up but somehow, all I could do was th...

Seriously, I don't care shit if Osama is dead or not. Frankly, I have lost all trust in such largely global crisis. I have several reasons to feel so. 1. VICIOUS CIRCLE - US aides Pakistan, which aides Al-Qaida, so basically, instead of directly selling Osama the arms, they were routing it through Pakistan who anyway can't raise their voice against the US. 2. STRANGE NEWS - Within two days of his death, news from within the US political camp seem different about whether Mr Osama was armed or not, and whether his wife is dead or injured. I mean, what the hell was the President watching LIVE and biting his jaws on? Are you kidding me? They see something live, yet don't know WHAT to report? The first report stated he was shot twice, once in the head and the other in the chest (just in case the bastard was still alive!?!), and now, the report states 3. SEA BURIAL - Who the hell gives a sea burial and WHY? Because no nation would want to do his burial. Fools could have used it a...

Nature’s beauty is everywhere In you and in me In the mighty polar bear Or the face of a monkey But these treasures for the eyes Are hidden in darkness For him who love denies And is left to loneliness.

I’ve lived now but twenty years And am wallowing in miseries I’ve washed all my sorrows in tears, But am drowning in agonies. The hopes that were left are now flying in the air And are falling into the fields of ignorance, My heart grows cold as it no more can bear My love’s inconstant glance. Like a sponge squeezed off water dry My happiness is drained from me Looking at the past I can but cry To see me like a naked tree. Life has offered me nothing but pain And death comes creeping by – My cheeks grow cold – my mind insane, She was gone…. In the wink of an eye.

A blazing sun which poured its heat across The wide expanse of land that thirst for rain; Dead bodies piled up with moans of loss And streams of blood still flowed amidst the plain. A soldier jaded by the wars collapsed And gazing at the sky he shed a tear That screamed in silent shouts; his body lapsed: The life in him began to disappear – The tear that rested by his cheek did start A fire fashioned by the sun which charred The half-unconscious soldier’s corpse and heart And deep in ashes left his glory marred. As time passed by, the bodies burnt, you drank Their souls and left the plain, silent and blank.