Part of me....

Drained and sapped,
The daily chores,
Voices unheard,
Voices untouched,
As it comes flickering on my naked display.

A pained heart,
For a painted picture,
A little hope,
Still hopes for a better tomorrow.

Amidst the daily mirrors.....

Untitled.............

Reclined dreams in the darkness of the night,
I ponder..
That picture of your's
Still gives me shivers….
For quite sometime..
Took me to just a stupid muse…

A picture—infront of my eyes..
Always….
Only when I close my eyes....

A moment, so pure
Feeling you while you sleep
Not aware, hidden emotions
Expressed secretly
The tender movements of the finger tip…

Its 3am…m lying beside you
What you're gonna do??
Tell a story. Tell a lie..
Or the truth…

Tear an eyelash..
Make a wish…
Fly away your dreams…

Endless Pit to Darkness....

"Death"..i call it a mystery..
A fear of the dark..
Obliterating the agony..
A call to hark!

Know what you are..
Your perspicacity..
Are you transparent?

Deplorable thoughts..
Reaching to the end..
"Die Man"- i say
'coz i am your only friend..

The Rolling Stone….

As we grow up, life offers us a lot of lessons, some offered in golden platter and some not even worth talking about. I never regretted any of my decisions and I guess that is what which keeps me going on.

Born in a family where the list predominantly consisted of the don't-s than do-s. And I have made the most of it. Being the youngest I broke the tradition of being pampered the most in the family and worth mentioning that I never fell short of the guardian angels at home. Yes, I am sarcastic as the tone may not be well expressive. Friend always an integral part of my life, but now the friend-concept comes with a little difference.


Well to start with, my friend list never seemed to end. And I guess I should have been rewarded by BSNL for being their most highly paid customers. I often wondered what must have the reason for me to seek out so much. Companionship!


Once I'm back home from school, I needed a friend and not a guardian. I am not here to blame and they all did what they thought was the best for me. But somewhere I have always felt that I have missed someone through out.


My first love is no more first. The love now has become the last already and I just started the journey of my life; I do not know where I went wrong. I still say that I do not regret.


I love life. I enjoy life in its full swing. I want to breathe without an inhaler. I love love. And I want to be loved.

When Memories Remain!!!

I still remember the last day we met which began with the much awaited warm hug. I walked along holding his hand. Kissed him tenderly in the front seat at the theatre while watching the Indianised Lolita. An argument-with-an-itch followed as tears rolled down. He does not get sparks any more. I am just the same. I kept walking and I felt he must be right behind.

I turned around only to see a thousand unknown faces.

I came back and wrote these two lines "I guess it is over, I guess this was the last".

We drifted and the sigh is all that remains...

Ramchand Pakistani.......

A Pakistani Hindu boy Ramchand, and his father accidentally cross the border and is taken into prison for several years in India. Mother (Nandits Das) not knowing what has happened to the men in the family, spends more than 4 years with the hope of seeing them back again.
The story belongs to the time when India-Pakistan situation was no better and the life of the untouchables set at the border.
Based on true incidents and the emotional turmoil that Ramchand goes through has been captured well. Innocent Ramchand grows in a multi-cultural environment in the jail and how he copes with the taruma of his forced seperation from his mother, along with his father in a country so hostile to his own self. On the other hand a Dalit mother goes thorugh the implications of this unintended action. Forced to work for her living and to pay off her missing husband's debt.
The film made it evident that the lives of the down trodden lot is always subjected to the hands of political and intolerant social system.
A very straightforward story-telling brings out the victimised Hindu in Pakistan, ulike the regular victimised Muslims in India films these days. Songs by Shubha Mudgal added to the intense plot and the film talks about the plight of the humankind in general, crossing the boundaries of religious sentiments.

A must film to watch..............or you will miss something......

Coorg....Land of warriors and brave men....

Coorg during the rainy season is a sight to behold with the rivers in full flow, small colourful flowers sprouting from all possible angles. Surrounded by mountains and the awe-inspiring greenery makes you come back to this land of the brave men.

We drove down to Coorg before the dawn broke and to our surprise it was chilling cold. A group of 9, each one just could not be better and was at their wits end, made the trip all the more exciting. Broke the fast with a cutting-chai, set ourselves for Nisargadhama. We traveled trough the forests, took pictures in all backgrounds and the sight of the tree houses was just ultimate fun. Finally we arrived the most awaited waterfalls. We all love water and it didn’t even take us a minute to plunge into it.

Negotiating with the frothy swift currents, avoiding the jutting rocks we tip toed towards the other shore. It was an amazing experience and I could never believe that I will personally be able to cross the stream because of my extraordinary height. I literally had to catch hold of two of my saviors- Mano and Vijay. And only at the end they realized that through out the way I was actually standing and not sitting. Upon reaching the other side, you have another falls to please yourself with and the twitter just added to its beauty.

It was an immense sense of achievement after we reached the other side. But the very thought of coming back was again painful. But surely these experiences would inspire the hard core adventurists in us.

The night devouring the deadly corgi pork, chicken fry is something I can never forget accompanied by hard core drinks. Well to talk about what my friends would not forget was my monologue..the after effect of the ultimate drunkenness…..”Vijay, I am TUN”… the dancing,,, the music…friends…Oh..how much I want to get back to that place…

Next day to Rajaseat gave pure thrills to the ones who enjoy trekking.. I loved gazing at the houses etched on the hills and few random shots.. The toy train journey and then the grand Abbey falls…its massive.. why do we forget always that actually we are nothing and that their’s so much more we have to see, we have to do and we have to learn..

We left the same day… Puja waving at every passer by must have left a mark in every Coorgi heart…and I slowly seeped into my much awaited slumber…

Disparity in God's own country..................

My journey started almost 5 years back..when I packed my bags and landed up in Bangalore to earn a degree..still now m traveling without knowing where I am going to..and I love it this way.. each episode filled with experiences and lessons…

1st October, reached the luscious green Wayanard… but we had to cover quite a distance everytime to explore the place…herd of men everywhere welcomed us with their lustful desires which was precisely interesting. Found them focusing their cameras on us.. and I believe that is possibly the reason why they don’t bring out their better halves outdoor to avoid the stares…. Yes it potrayed their egoist and chauvinist selves to the utmost..

While we visited the tribals in the forest…their was something real interesting that I would like to share with all.. while the translations followed, we discovered that these small tribal communities do not believe in the concept of marriage.. they choose their own partners..have sex..become parents..live a life...and they are at the liberty of leaving their partners whenever they want to with their new found love… and owes no explanation to anyone… and they are happy, most upfront and yet TRIBALS..

This was an absolute contrast to what we saw in town… Disparity in God’s own country….

My first Blog -- AETTOKOTHA...can be broken in two,, AETTO-KOTHA..a bengali expression meaning "too many worrds"...all mostly lost...trying to find its way somewhere.. the courtesy of this name ofcourse goes to a friend.. my fisrt childhood crush..then a stranger.. now a friend when m approaching insanity...

yes,, i have a place to write now and share..and open to your views.. very excited..thinking where to start from.. now at work..guess have to draw the lines.. will surely come back with the other half of me...