tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62525539580796076202011-12-20T00:39:04.353+05:30shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.comBlogger311100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-19967993221835855752011-12-20T00:39:00.000+05:302011-12-20T00:39:04.370+05:30

When he closed his eyes, late in a december night, he knew it was already too late to undo the past... Having stepped on the narrow lane, only to explore a little, to get to know the country a bit more, to pick up something that might be useful for his long journey to the distant city, and having walked inch by inch to the precipice, he knew it was impossible to retrace the steps obliterated by

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-30304373252357051222011-07-07T02:10:00.004+05:302011-07-25T23:27:13.559+05:30

Life runs on many pathways. For some it is from ordinary to extraordinary, for many it is other way round. For them time goes on..Age comes as our sky shrinks...our dream becomes an extension of routine .We no longer dream of edge of the universe-It's too far away..It’s too dangerous. .We stare at our screens and cobwebs on the roofs on sleepless nights. .Aging is the journey of stars from our

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-34400222176010832362010-07-14T22:11:00.004+05:302010-07-14T22:51:44.976+05:30

there are two types of pictures, a small one, pasted in job application forms, in pasports and saving accounts, where your whole self is not required, the image below chest is usually edited out.it is not short of a miracle that people are actually identified via these tiny passport pictures, often taken without color, preserved for years since the day you were a kid. passport pictures make you

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-66214808600581745892010-06-27T12:15:00.002+05:302010-06-27T14:09:57.575+05:30

weekend are meant for quite a few things. there is usually a huge list of activities and theories about weekends. weekends are for taking a break from routine, for fixing things you can't during the week due to professional commitments..planning for next week, spending times with friends, reading books you were meaning to since long, going for an outing and so on..heard a song, about a sleepless

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-86297229760880298492010-06-20T12:52:00.004+05:302010-06-20T14:12:23.701+05:30

the title is a contradiction in itself. do i not see the things i read?some will argue that seeing implies observation and realization from things in real life. but so it with a book.thus living a life is as good as reading about it? A scholar in ancient ages believed that and so he asked the travelers in his boat to give up their lives rather than parting with his books and throwing them

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-29516107921288475912010-06-14T00:12:00.003+05:302010-06-14T01:07:16.729+05:30

one late night, staggering out of a 'watering hole' i realized i had nowhere to go. i had been living a dream for many years, a dream not extraordinary in any respect, an ordinary dream.i often spoke about it, wrote about it, alluded to it, hinted at it, deep inside,i knew it to be a lost dream, deep inside i knew to be alive, it had to alive, it had to immortal for it was my dream.Where do you

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-12244979358770653692010-05-01T15:04:00.003+05:302010-05-01T19:51:30.429+05:30

It was the miserable rain that soaked my cloths as i reached home after walking for hours..the door looked slightly ajar. I pushed, it gave a little resistance, the lock that held the door slipped out, the door gave out a slow, agonized shriek as it opened into a short, dark passageway.the house looked dank and deserted,there was a unsettling air to the place.as if i was entering a world i didn't

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-45075763058105208262010-04-12T02:02:00.001+05:302010-04-12T02:04:42.876+05:30

On my last trip home, I visited the two schools I had studied in, the old and the older, full of signs of decay, and growth. A new ugly section had been added to the 160 years old structure. It was a lab I suppose, a functional eyesore funded by the usual grants and donations our schools thrive upon while our government decides whether or not our kids have a right to education, whether to add or

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-19807591232333449822010-03-21T13:48:00.002+05:302010-03-21T14:18:45.004+05:30

here goes another weekend, another Sunday, another week, and now comes a new one, full of it's pushes and pulls,deadlines to meet,things to learn, things to sort out, it's quite a handful already,I remember tricksters of childhood day, juggling so many balls at a time,the glass ones, the one in the intent eyes of the kids, the watchful ones of their parents, the disapproving ones from Know-Alls,

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-45589874031992262152010-03-02T20:18:00.003+05:302010-03-04T00:34:25.311+05:30

We met one dark (K)night. it must have been breezy, i don't remember anything about moon though..nevertheless, the night was beautiful as in the James blunt song-a night that wasn't really with you..On that breezy night, as i was waiting for a train on a desolate platform,i realized that i will never be with her again..All through the day, i had kept my fists tightly clenched, tight and tense, in

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-32784654853617721312009-12-20T12:53:00.008+05:302010-01-31T15:41:47.833+05:30

I made trip into oblivion recently. i didn't have to travel too far. just a couple of hours drive from Bombay and you reach Pardi. Pardi is a village on paper,living into quagmire of government schemes and non-schemes. Pardi is recognized as a village so it must have a gram panchayat, a school etc. as it turns out pardi has 20 odd homes which are quite obviously inadequate for running any

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-62213583395462639932009-10-22T15:45:00.002+05:302009-10-22T16:37:20.947+05:30

just a week to go to November, the winters that rarely turn up on time, i decided to blabber for an hour in the least. this decision was due for some time,maybe overdue, a lot depended on it. what lot? we'll see maybe.what does a depend on? when do we we say it was a good day and otherwise? having fun, achieving something, starting something new, winding up on time, quiet and serene day, lack of

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-83760752134306498502009-10-01T20:11:00.004+05:302009-10-01T20:44:17.220+05:30

I keep reminding people that i'm getting older these days. It becomes an excuse for all the follies and fancies that i commit ever so often. how did i come to know that? It happened one fine morning-Quite by chance.. i woke up and didn't remember where i was, was it at my Home, or my home, or somewhere else.Getting old means you fossilize your values and perceptions, you trust yourself maybe a

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-37016796039698742312009-07-21T18:35:00.004+05:302009-07-21T19:21:10.637+05:30

It's been quite some time since I have tried a story...plenty of WIP around i guess.I read a famous quote a few days back, Martin Luther King Jr says even if we're not popular, not politic, too much in a hurry to stick our neck out in some views, we must pursue what we feel is right...I do not like these times, to be honest. We have a bad government, erratic weather, opportunistic people, far too

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-1137016403879413692009-06-25T01:19:00.002+05:302009-06-25T01:29:27.302+05:30

It's late in the night. Kabir says to reach truth i need to stop searching for it in external world, stop looking for escape routes.. let my eyes be opened to what's there to see.. right there..i see you opning eyes, afraid of the first rays, unaccustomed, tentative.Do not run away from life i say, as if i know..

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-51122286504658430182009-06-22T20:42:00.003+05:302009-06-22T21:03:06.847+05:30

On the last day god rested after creating man and giving him the reign of all things alive and inanimate..I have no pictures to show on what he missed out, though he knew .. there are things you just do not finish to perfection..I leave without doing many things, fulfill many pledges, into uncertain future..this life is a monster i created, which love and tenderness, and with regrets..The monster

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-67783249352025054302009-06-01T00:46:00.000+05:302009-06-01T00:59:09.672+05:30

For millania i waited full of faith..and then god said i did not exist..i took my bow and vanished..he says i do not exist and i protest with muted voice..words illegitimized..unseen to naked eyes as the are lowered in shame and guilt.. Yes i am angry. I want my right to death..

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-54091885743345246352009-05-31T23:59:00.000+05:302009-06-01T00:41:15.970+05:30

It-s been a long journey. 26 hours and 14 odd more to go..it-s happening after so many ifs and buts and whens..as the senior citizen snores n huffs n puffs downstairs i decide to put the journal for myself..my cellphone being the only standing mate, i write hence..i started with all the usual melodrama. No confirmed ticket. No confirmed train turning into two confirmations..did not have time to

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-39800888265796342632009-05-16T00:56:00.003+05:302009-05-18T19:21:54.632+05:30

it's been long since it has rained. morninigs bring some moisture though, being enough for those aclimatized for these parts, or for those who have never seen those days when the village lived as a miracle amid punishing desert. then there are those who live in memories, too deep in love to care about life that changed around them, or rather life choses to let them be.as children of the town,

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-13611705608909101512009-05-05T20:03:00.005+05:302009-05-06T20:03:21.628+05:30

I think I am getting towards mastering the art, having been helped in no small measure by the inborn talent.Sometimes I savor these moments of intellectual laziness. I let the words flow in, into my eardrums, or eyes’, feel them sailing in, fighting desperately for a little crack to open inside me. They want to be let in...Well some of them, others don't bother. Sometimes I decide to let a

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-86209220794722635812009-04-16T19:52:00.002+05:302009-04-19T00:47:43.176+05:30

Working late in the evenings means one is left pretty much alone. The AC goes off, after a while the coffee machine ditches you, the chats on communicator dry up, you recieve calls not necessarily related to work, you reach home late and you feel at peace as pretty much everything that was to be done can't be done for now.When you work late you become open to bonhomie among fellow seafarers. You

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-86057526058655648122009-03-21T21:03:00.003+05:302009-03-21T22:00:22.056+05:30

on the last day of the nascent world, rather long time after that, last night before Adam and Eve got expelled from the garden of Eden, they felt ashamed of their nakedness, they felt dejected, aggrieved of their fate, their mortality.they felt ashamed of their curiosity to reveal what they must hide, the sin they must commit if only to fulfil their destiny...It was a uncharacteristic/sad night

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-84020466306980493942009-03-21T20:20:00.003+05:302009-03-21T20:52:36.798+05:30

On the last day, the God rested for it was sunday and he had created man as master of all things alive and inanimate...Adam and eve lived in the garden ,naked and they had no shame.. it's after eating the forbidden fruit they came to realise their nakedness... Eve was cursed with pain and suffering for all the times to come as also with the responsibility for giving birth to the human child...

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-22732030793980420562009-03-18T18:56:00.003+05:302009-03-18T20:08:36.387+05:30

main doon bhi to kya doon tujhe ay shokh nazaronLe de ke mere paas kuchh ansoon hain kuch aahein..I am not very sentimental type, or so i like to believe..at least no one has accused me of being one..people have often told me about the firm icy handshake they get instead of the eulogised warm and firm one..yes i have been selfish, narcissistic since when i can recollect..I have my reasons, I have

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-81428152496167607652009-02-21T17:44:00.005+05:302009-02-21T18:43:49.413+05:30

after eons i received a message with said good morning in so many words, loaded with hopes and wishes.what does a good morning feel like? well they all feel the same really.. rushing to work half-asleep, blabbering about things done and undone the previous day, rush for snacks and emails to be answered., before you realise the morning is gone and it's now an average day. endless rounds of coffee

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-88961878419166332942009-02-14T19:17:00.004+05:302009-02-14T20:34:48.194+05:30

I prefer nights, more than days, and thus I often end up stretching my waking hours beyond what I'd call sensible or sustainable. Lack of routine is the routine beyond ones imposed by breadly-butterly considerations. I often chastise myself and take a vow to make amends but for some things, I am incorrigible. Sometimes I recall the 'lord of flies' - the microcosm of the world woven on the island,

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-87145427440466295912009-02-02T19:15:00.003+05:302009-02-02T19:39:04.523+05:30

i am searching for god, or Satan or whatever that could break the monotony, create excitement, give me anecdotes to tell etc.about an year ago, sitting by seashore one early breezy morning, all we thought about was getting back to some warm nestling place. we stayed there for quite a long time nevertheless.. one year hence the memory is sufficiently hazy to feel nostalgic.lets go another year

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-70204472400996979102009-01-21T18:51:00.005+05:302009-01-27T18:39:17.610+05:30

(Originally written in 06 on another blog,this post quite obviously displays my fetish with full stops..retained taking a cue from Ambassedor vitage we might see soon on roads)it is difficult to keep remembering....that you exist...you become an eye, an ear, a summation of senses on either side of a hood.. and you forget to feel how you feel...the realisation somehow seeps away from sensation...

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-14737229995197130712009-01-14T19:22:00.005+05:302009-01-22T18:54:24.135+05:30

We are Xyloed. Fresh from the much awaited product launch yesterday, the classic ' to buy or not to buy' is the constant buzz I hear around me.Many were directly involved in the project, many by association, the excitement is certainly in the air. In a way it's a breather from the hottest commodity around-the bad news. Sinking economy, sinking automotive industry in particular, terror strike,

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-6611974037936669002009-01-13T20:02:00.004+05:302009-01-13T20:38:14.454+05:30

Second posts are important as they re-affirm the commitment for the next one, not unlike what second life does- nine lives are the upper limit says my cat, already in its third life. why third? the cat has been mourned over twice by a over-afflicted cousin of mine, only to reappear again to every one's delight, turned out that the cat was merely taking the usual catty nap..how many lives do we

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6252553958079607620.post-18537575659910991112009-01-12T19:58:00.000+05:302009-01-12T20:43:45.996+05:30

Have been planning to have a new place exclusively for random writings, musings, blabbering etc. it's essentially an urge to write as myself, unlike fiction (or fiction of fiction) where the character becomes another little being.Interesting thought- did god create us just as we create all these words and stories and verses and the so-called non fiction? never realising where this new being will

shah_of_blahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00869915659887972474noreply@blogger.com1