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Standing at the crossroads of life
I see so many paths winding into the horizon
But none marked where they lead to
Any could lead anywhere
I stand worried, bogged down by responsibilities
With others’ expectations of me
The worried creases on their foreheads
The stifled cries of those clinging onto me
All acting as counterweights to my heart’s desires
Weighing me down and tying my hands
My head aches and heart screams
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On the side of the road I see a mirror and an empty cup
And as I walk up to the mirror and stand in front of it
A wave passes through me
I stare at the reflection and wonder
As my life parades behind me
With all the people in it adding bits and pieces into the cup
I watch my parents, my siblings, my friends
And how their dashes of vibrant colors
Changed the hues in the cup
I see the dull shades of life
And recognize the bitter taste
I see my love’s drop of soul in it
And remember how the flavor of my life changed
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I look behind and no one’s there, the image a mirage has vanished
Leaving me with just the cup in my hand, now filled.
Looking ahead at the paths
With the cup of my life in my hands
I wonder if this was the recipe I was looking for my life
If I couldn’t boil off the blues
And keep the essence for myself
I shrug off the feeling
Drink the cup
And head into the horizon
Wait, I feel something in me
I think it’s the warmth of his soul
My heart and my step are steadier now.

Well I couldn’t find a more appropriate name for this post. Just a little bit of introduction. What follows here is, for lack of a better term, verbatim representation of my dreams.

I bet there wouldn’t be many who didn’t feel sleepy after a good lunch in an office. And I am no exception (even if you are an exception I won’t buy it now, so save it!). However, I had a ‘job’ to do and I was trying to fill in a document. Drowsiness set in as I tried typing in and the result was the following. And I even distinctly remember that I had even done some corrections and undos to the text, shook myself up once but dozed off again. Remarkably I kept typing and what I typed makes an interesting read:

The state department looking after the welfare activities of the project For Environmental clearance Zevil that mEn Do l Mamma ccccccchudalani undi…. Ninnu chudalani undi……………….sssssssporapatu apnulka cheybommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm cheepalani udn\\n rahul, rahul… nenu, rahul tandrini. Boommmmmmmmmmalu chese prati naatyam. Adi antyamo, ammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm amrutamo, edo teleeni paristhiti. Chaal akashtanga undi. Evadu ekkpoyelaage unaddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd Maine gente hi nahin, main nssssssssssss\\ ladki , isme log kuch bhi keh sakte hain,aur sj som mle mu nujhsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss wow… I’m goddamn sleepy… I wonder what I can do about this…

Adi sare gain vennu maadhavan madhavani niddddddddd Enti cheyyali? Naalugu gaddar signulni pattukunte sari padi pyu yetla adukunede? Oppp, endukura ilanti pichi panulu, ”addddddddddddddi

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Hope my boss doesn’t see this post…

I wish I was the morning rays caressing your face
Or the wafting smell of coffee disturbing you
Or the warmth of the cup dissolving in your hands
Alas, I cannot be any but am just someone
Wishing goddess a beautiful morning

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What can few cubic inches of space hold?

Does it have enough for all the memories,

for words both said and unsaid

Can it withstand the flood of emotions,

shoulder the burden of trust, and

And cleanse the ugliness of the naked soul

Can it preserve the radiance of the purest of

all gems, friendship

bear the emotional density of uncorrupted love

and can it, in return, share a little of all this

What can few cubic inches of space hold?

What price can ever be paid for it?

I have lost my mobile! 😦 😦 And I’m crying for it… I have bitter-sweet memories of it. It was just like a bad pet; it always did what it wanted to but still it was my pet. But it was absolutely a great mobile to take pictures with! Guess such great quality cannot be expected from other mobiles. Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of it, only pictures taken by it. Well yes it had a chronic problem of restarting, and hanging itself out of the blue but still it worked, it served first my father and then me faithfully for, only a short time, but it served.

But I think it had some ulterior disregard for me. Ever since it first came into my hands it misbehaved. You know it was more like my dad’s bike which still only listens to him and not to me. It tried hard to get away from me, once going as far as jumping from my hand in the middle of the road right in the midst of traffic. I succeeded in rescueing it and chastised it for doing something as absolutley ridiculous! It could have killed itself! Then of course there have been numerous occassions on which it again tried it to escape falling from my hands, from my bed and once even from my trosure pocket while i was driving!!!! At all times I was able to rescue it and get it back under control but this time I cannot. It’s gone from me forever.

My dear mobile,

Wherever you go, may you keep good health! I wouldn’t wish you to trouble your new owner (becuase I think you will). But there are secrets to my heart that you hold, which I am afraid will be taken from you, even with your best efforts to oppose them. I will take measures to keep them safe. And I will always keep you in my memory through the numerous photographs you have taken.

Take my tearful adieu!

Sid

Well I had very busy weeks… Almost all the news has been good. (The only downpoint is that I’m not yet well). Nearly a month ago a German came to our company on his internship.  He is having good time here (I hope). We roommates took him and showed around the city. He is supposedly going to stay for 8 weeks and then go round the country. Thats pure wanderlust…. I have to plan such a trip myself.

Then I got myself a new “Honda Activa”. I know the question has already popped into your head if it is still alive. Sorry to say but its still okay (not without my best efforts).

So we went around the city. Went to Golconda fort, and man is IT IMPRESSIVE!!! I mean not too much remains in these remains (dirty pun right :D) but it is reallllly really huge and vast. Spent somewhere about three hours there (without the commuting time) and had a nice feeling…

But the mother of all happy moments is that now I am an UNCLE!!!! My brother and sil had a baby girl on 27th August!!! Name is “Asmita”, which means “self-esteem”. A cute-cuddling beauty!!! So now no longer cute boy :(, we have to be more serious now… (you know pretending to set a good standard until she sees through the glass…)

The downstory of all this is I’m sick from the last weekend… Guess its viral fever or something… and as if that wasn’t enough i’m having a bad stomach ache too. Well the bed’s calling me… So its good night fow now…

I was always late to school. There is no denying the fact, no escaping the truth. My mom was a teacher there and she had a really tough time getting me ready to school, what with cooking food for us and she herself getting ready. And I had a penchant for losing my bus passes. I guess I would have lost at least three of them. It frustrated my dad so much that he stapled it to the front cover of my mathematics text book. Of course I had forgotten to take the text book with me.

I started going to my school alone on my own from my sixth class. My mom used to come a bit later than me. Did I feel awkward if I was found travelling with my mom, hmmm….. I think not much. Except for the thought that I would be looking like a kid and so I started out going alone to school, but I guess thats quite normal. I sometimes used to go to school with my brother, who was elder to me by 4 1/2 years, but it was only occasionally. I now can’t remember why the both of us never used to go together! Maybe it is because by the time I started to go to secondary classes, he was almost out of them. Anyway I was travelling alone on one such day when I had forgotten my bus pass and didn’t have money in my pocket. The minute the bus conductor had asked me to show my bus pass, I searched and found I didn’t have it on me. I panicked. I rummaged through my back, upturned all my books and poured out all the contents of my school bag pockets, but nothing came up. Neither the bus pass or money to cover the fare. (I am not too sure if I hadn’t had any money on me, maybe there wasn’t enough!) I looked frantically about to see if I could find someone who could help me out. And I found one.

He was one of the guys living near to me and I seeked his help and he gave me one rupee. That was the fare (I think) enough to take me from my house to school. I can never forget the feeling of gratitude I had felt for that guy at that moment. He had earned, from that single one rupee coin, a great fan, a follower. I had felt the importance of that one rupee like I had never felt for all the money I had spent on the choclates, pencils or any other sundry things I had bought. My parents, despite the tight string budget that we lived on, what with seven to eight of us family members (we were the only two kids), never let us feel that we lacked what was essential to us. Yes we missed all the comics my classmates could buy, all the freedom to watch our favourite programs on a color TV, or the super cars and games few of my other friends used to play with. We really had what we wanted and never lacked what we needed. And that mattered immensely to that little brain of mine then.

All it took me to realise this was that one rupee. I wish I could say now that I had learnt a great lesson and that I took it with me all my life. Alas I can’t claim that. I still don’t spend my money properly, but thankfully I am not a spendthrift (I think). And still I can appreciate and value each rupee.