tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6580053845177445622024-02-21T14:13:46.798+05:30Whispering CorridorReviews, General news, Computers, Technology, Internet, Music-related news, Great Deals, Make money online, Health, Family, Pets and anything else that is on my mind.Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.comBlogger573125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-90946268217489012232020-06-07T18:13:00.000+05:302020-06-07T18:13:00.642+05:30The Potato Dosa Making Process<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-20333993331986763722020-06-06T06:50:00.000+05:302020-06-06T06:50:01.271+05:30John Wick Vs Thanos<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-81746101538788996162020-06-05T10:39:00.000+05:302020-06-01T10:39:53.710+05:30The Metro Line Overhead Bridge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-40898132148198357582020-06-04T11:19:00.000+05:302020-06-04T11:19:00.781+05:30Bada Mangal Stalls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "segoe ui historic" , "segoe ui" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">In a normal year, the Bada Mangal stalls would be seen at every major intersection of Lucknow sometime during the month of May. The stalls would distribute either Puri, some veggie and colored, sweet water or else boondi (an orange colored sweet dish) and some water. This year, all of these activities are missing. Hopefully, next year, shops will setup stalls as it brings in a bit of fun and enjoyment to break the monotony of life</span></div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-1222919328923291482020-06-03T06:47:00.002+05:302020-06-03T06:47:45.484+05:30Whose Dream Are You Living?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-79215520910055181762020-06-02T10:37:00.000+05:302020-06-02T10:37:01.584+05:30The Short Order Cook<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-51729325541635544632020-06-01T10:23:00.001+05:302020-06-01T10:23:18.761+05:30Put Yourself In Other Persons Shoes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The stuff which includes the memes and photos one forwards to others tell alot about the other person's thought process. An excessively plus sized person asleep in some chair isn't a funny sight, nor is someone who is having trouble crossing the street, walking different than the usual normal walk, etc.</div>
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The plus sized person weight gain might be due to circumstances beyond his control (genetics), thyroid or liver issues, eating disorder fuelled by depression, etc, maybe alcohol issues.</div>
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The. Person who is walking abnormally might have hip related issues/ joint problem (one of my neighbors has it), muscle deterioration due to some disease (Some employee at the car insurance where I went to a few months ago is affected by it) and the guy who was walking around in a daze or else is having issues doing simple things might have been experiencing extreme dehydration or some mental health issues.</div>
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Go ahead and think that I'm getting bothered by irrelevant issues, but try putting yourself in the other person's shoes. Imagine a life where one is affected by some health issues and simple things become difficult.</div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-88100209358803438752019-09-20T21:12:00.000+05:302019-09-20T21:12:01.261+05:30The Camel Rider<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhke0hIuElZoB25AOYtzfZJTmAWak91Ie5xnIE8L5jCkT3KycSu5YYK4zc74r5P_q7Bq_H6G5GeEjSoxwYZIY-RjEu0TnGPkqs58egPiT5TYjRo3ue15XPmQMvVa1cp9ETGuwqMwtNIcWiB/s1600/IMG_20180314_191149333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhke0hIuElZoB25AOYtzfZJTmAWak91Ie5xnIE8L5jCkT3KycSu5YYK4zc74r5P_q7Bq_H6G5GeEjSoxwYZIY-RjEu0TnGPkqs58egPiT5TYjRo3ue15XPmQMvVa1cp9ETGuwqMwtNIcWiB/s640/IMG_20180314_191149333.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-72980230114876301082019-09-18T21:09:00.000+05:302019-09-18T21:09:06.272+05:30Monsoon Evening<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho0Mtr1Th7FuyIMnrzW6LxJ6jA9gC8MUujzfQzmKMpHNnDueV1U7aKkHBWXQWME2f8rA-Nw1MJS0xDOmvm52672YiwJiLQb2ee6YjNCfRBDUwYWlLK92pTXTxHTvaaTRHgVpeqVFXZF6Y9/s1600/70951757_371096127171421_8349628805261819904_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="960" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho0Mtr1Th7FuyIMnrzW6LxJ6jA9gC8MUujzfQzmKMpHNnDueV1U7aKkHBWXQWME2f8rA-Nw1MJS0xDOmvm52672YiwJiLQb2ee6YjNCfRBDUwYWlLK92pTXTxHTvaaTRHgVpeqVFXZF6Y9/s640/70951757_371096127171421_8349628805261819904_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-62580684866434454622019-09-16T21:06:00.001+05:302019-09-16T21:06:58.148+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnaIAdwQvCWTIEzPyFtTPcU6JQYiwTH_ncbmwRYKk_x01jxYAKhecYtxR8_0dYuKCiSS2eu4edkWx_MIXWKXjzDQKtVbuC1EkAh1t8UymYHuDwury5CMoB8Kgf6rk9lb5PWogZLsi_1yz1/s1600/70772047_372361820378185_1395962086000951296_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="854" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnaIAdwQvCWTIEzPyFtTPcU6JQYiwTH_ncbmwRYKk_x01jxYAKhecYtxR8_0dYuKCiSS2eu4edkWx_MIXWKXjzDQKtVbuC1EkAh1t8UymYHuDwury5CMoB8Kgf6rk9lb5PWogZLsi_1yz1/s320/70772047_372361820378185_1395962086000951296_o.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;">Looking down the road one last time before I walked away, I noticed that the city had become engulfed in a dense fog. Cold winds from the north were already rocking the city and hardly anyone was venturing outside. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;">The streets and the shops wore a des</span><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;">erted look and most of the shops were closed even though shops around the station stayed open till late everyday to cater to the crowds that disembarked from distant town to make a livelihood. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;">Looking at the meandering river which flowed next to the road, the river looked so cool, refreshing and it seemed to call me out. I wanted to hop off and walk barefoot on the green grass and slip into the river to drive away the coiled up stress. Rivers always had a free and untamed look to it and it always seemed to hold me under a spell whenever I ventured near. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #f2f3f5; color: #1c1e21;">Looking at my own reflection on the still waters made me realize where once stood a young man now I saw a white haired wrinkled man who had the haunted look in his eyes.</span></span></div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-29643776438950143702016-09-02T11:22:00.002+05:302016-09-02T11:22:26.327+05:30Fleeting Moments<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhxzHenzIf3L6XcS0E4QtGEWAjpyBaPs1NC2bT7dvq0PhEMH2U5POTabqcmtWpsM5bvmpz7ELjLnqpu53oDd9BYWsN8ecFoGfRGrAxxoPvvCXrsaGdU8oPIjYHxInd7a5FBTZ6V0j0BtC/s1600/14141794_10208676961294390_2877010899494627781_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhxzHenzIf3L6XcS0E4QtGEWAjpyBaPs1NC2bT7dvq0PhEMH2U5POTabqcmtWpsM5bvmpz7ELjLnqpu53oDd9BYWsN8ecFoGfRGrAxxoPvvCXrsaGdU8oPIjYHxInd7a5FBTZ6V0j0BtC/s320/14141794_10208676961294390_2877010899494627781_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Waking up
from the deep sleep, I looked at the empty bed and wondered if it was just a
dream. The wrinkled bed sheet, pillow that seemed lost in the corner of the
room and the bed covers seemed to say otherwise. Throwing the bed sheet off, I
sat at the edge off the bed at looked out the window. It was a misty morning
and the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Electricity poles, town
lights and small houses started to turn off their lights as the night lowly
turned into day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">My body was
stiff and muscles sore from the events of last night. Looking over my shoulder,
I called Mary out loud yet the empty house just echoed back my inquiring voice.
The room was once more as empty as it was the previous day and wondered what
happened and what my next course of action will be. Getting out of bed, I walked
up to the window and looked out. Even at this early hour, a sea of humanity had
started to flow past the window which I am gazing out of.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Breaking my
gaze from the lost souls wandering below, I wandered down to the kitchen. The
coffee machine in the corner was happily brewing away a pot of coffee. I stared at the half filled coffee pot, lost
deep in a hypnotic trance, the hiss of steam and the ripples as the drops of
coffee fell into the liquid below.
Images of my lost childhood when I was carefree floated in my mind. Time
and images slowly floated by and my mind became agitated as I saw my present
life unfold before me. Gritting my teeth, I drained the coffee mug, got dressed
and stormed out of the house to cleanse my mind of my troubled past. Time flew
by and one moment blended into another as I tried to forget my past. Life
slowly lost all color and became shades of grey. It was as barren, rocky,
desolate windswept plain as my mind and heart had become. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Picking up
the phone, I called up John to pick up the art works which had been lying in
the attic for what seemed like a lifetime. The guy who had come by to check the
paintings had quoted a decent enough price to tempt me to make the call. Time
rolled on and the afternoon slowly turned into evening. I found myself at the
museum at the newly acquired paintings on display. A tinge of sadness passed
over me as I realized the memories came alive as I relived each and every brush
stroke.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">As I stared
at my most prized painting which was no longer mine, a familiar voice from my
past whispered “Mike, I missed you so much. How about a cup of coffee to catch
up on the old times?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">The heart seemed to stop
for a moment as the throat constricts and I gasp for breath. Silence seemed to
stretch into eternity as the floodgates of memories break through the dam I had
built. Bitter moments start to pulsate through the veins. I felt like a flotsam
caught in a raging river. The clock starts to tick backward reminding me of the
events that led to this. Resentment slowly starts to harden the soul. Anger
blinds me and colors my world red.</span><div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">“Countless
years spent together. Yet, trust and a relationship once nurtured with care
gone up in smoke in an instant. You know I drew that painting and the subject
is you when I first saw you running down the alley after a kite which was
floating away. That day I knew you would be mine one day yet never foresaw the
day when you would run off with another man. If I only knew that I would find
you here, I would not have come here myself.” I mumbled as I quickly walked out
of the room and into my car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">In the now
empty room, a woman walks up to the painting and looks at it as if for the
first time. She glances at it as if she remembers the bygone era. Running down
dusty lanes, knocking down bicycles, chasing chickens that were eating grains,
running through clothes hanging on clothesline, getting chased by dogs and
people while the eyes were glued on a stray kites falling towards the ground.
The oil paints had faded as time had taken its toll except for:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Fleeting
moments<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">One caught in
time<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">An image like
a shrapnel blast<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">One that
lingers for a lifetime<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Pain that
stills the heart<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Warmth gone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Chill remains<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Bitter
moments flow thru the veins<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">which seemed
freshly penned. Running down the hallway, she pushes the door open only to see
a car leaving the parking lot. Sinking to her knees, memories of a failed
marriage, guilt that she just couldn’t shed, bitter words which she promised never
to utter, flowed through the tongue flawlessly which had receded into the dim
corners of the mind all but forgotten, rushed headlong into her mind. Time
passed by as the bright afternoon turned into evening. Leaning her head against
the glass door, she felt lonelier than ever. The sound of a matchstick striking
against flint and the smell of cigarette smoke snapped her out of the daze she
was in. Her eyes widened with fear as she realized that she wasn’t alone in
this empty museum as she heard a click of hammer fill her ears. Turning around,
she felt a bone crushing pain as darkness enveloped her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-78531128353238762052016-09-01T00:00:00.000+05:302016-09-01T00:00:01.509+05:30Four Rambling Thoughts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #404040; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">1.) At times I wish the Google+</span></span><span style="color: #404040; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;"> site had a comment section like the one we had at Multiply or the "Write Post/Share Photo" option of Facebook. This site is good and seems to suit alot of folks, yet if this sites borrows a few features from other sites like Facebook then more users will probably start using it on a regular basis and hopefully pose a challenge to FB one day. </span></span></span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">2.) Does anyone else feel or has observed that many folks are lacking common sense and social etiquette when interacting with others? Take a look around and you'll see that folks have a short attention span, short tempered and have a hard time interacting with others.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">3.) The days are getting cooler and shorter. Winter will soon be upon us. Sooner or later, quilts, jackets and sweaters will be pulled out. Peanuts will hit the market sometime in December and other winter vegetables will follow soon.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">4.) Time and the change it brings is the only thing constant in our lives. Events happen. Some minor and others major occur in every persons life. Some things are life altering events like birth of a child or death of a family member. How much have you changed in the last decade?</span><br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-67010257880269833812016-08-30T12:59:00.003+05:302016-08-30T12:59:49.214+05:30The Day The Cursed Sun Went Black <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEIzRfgJhqs2sB8leBBkj826BR3s5E6kxxkro9DH0WgG_nkxvYuBMjLkz0GgQb_7R9I5PY-q8K6KyLHYjfP1mZ5J4_oQCYOu_ecMAfKrUP1H4wk7YEDvySwRfiA7n6P8ZofJrms_N18ow/s320/solar+ecplise.jpg" width="320" /> </div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Looking out
the window, I see the sun that never set glaring at the land below and the nearly
deserted town. No matter where I looked, all I could see were empty streets and
the town seemed deserted except for the few drunks sprawled under lamp posts and
the stray dogs that were busy chasing a few cars that passed through the town
main intersection. Taking a deep breath, I started to close the heavy curtains
to shut out the burning light and wisps of smoke started to rise from my skin.
I started to curse out loud and thought about doing something about that cursed
yellow object. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Wandering
down the dimly lit hallway, I made my way to the far end where the lab was
located. Tripping over a pile of coiled wire, I fell face down onto the floor.
Getting up, I felt pain shoot through my head and grabbed my nose only to
realize that I had bloodied my nose. A loud explosion was heard and smoke
started to pour out of the room. A bean stalk thin man wearing divers goggles
and hair standing on ends stepped out, flipped me out and yelled “Why oh why
did you have to short circuit my equipment? Now go away before you mess up
something else.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Feeling a
little sorry and guilty at the same time, I looked around mournfully wondering
why I had even come wandering down this hallway when professor Smith was busy
with finding a solution on how to reduce the strength of the sun so that the
creatures of the night can safely walk out. So far, he was only able to get
half the equipment to work and the other half simply refused to light up like a
Christmas tree. The service tech guys came, did some fiddling with the dials,
gave a bill with a smirk and told us that they’ll come back once more as
another bill was handed to the professor. This process had been repeated three
times yet no solution so far.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">My eyes
wandered down the hallway where the wires finally ended and the bank of wall
sockets started. All plugs were plugged into the sockets except one and one was
partially pulled out. With what seemed like the weight of the world on my
shoulder, I wanted to find a solution to the problem I had caused. Walking up
to the wall, I pushed the loose plug back in and inserted the plug lying on the
floor into the socket. I heard instruments hiss, crackle and pop. I felt the
house shake as the huge dish on the roof started to move and align itself
towards the sun. A loud excited voice was heard wanting me to come quick and
lend a hand. Stepping into a dark room, all I saw was bright lights flashing,
dials and needles flashing all types of numbers. Opening the blinds just a wee
bit, I saw the sun go dark. As I drove off, I turned around a final time to
look back and wondered if I’ll ever be back at this place. The streets and the
shops which had worn a deserted till awhile back were starting to fill up with
customers. People were seen on the sidewalks were rushing to catch an elusive
bus or a taxi.</span><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></div>
</span></div>
</a><br /></div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-40178075049384629302016-08-29T18:36:00.000+05:302016-08-29T18:36:07.200+05:30Ship In A Storm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Groggily I woke up from the deep sleep whose tentacles refused to let go. Still under the sheets, my arm crept out from under the bed sheet, groped from the snooze button as the radio blared out some song as the faceless voice moaned about the changing weather patterns and sudden storm which might hit the town in the night. Failing to switch it off, I stuck my head out and looked at the world through my bleary eyes. Not liking the world view, I hid back under the sheet and hoped that it would get better the next time I stuck my head out. </div>
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Getting out of the bed, I wandered around as if in a daze to the dining table to pour myself a shot of whiskey. Nursing my only constant companion these days, I lifted the mug, took a long sip and then poured myself another shot. Looking out the window, I see a vast forest that seems to stretch for miles upon miles. The activity in the small trading town some distance away is in full swing and I can hear the dim voices of men in the street. As my gaze drifted to the wide body of water in the bay, I see a ship had pulled in. The phone started to ring madly. Picking it up, I said “Hello.” </div>
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“Sir, Captain Cook is unavailable for todays journey. It seems like he had a run in with some wild beast and lost his hand. Could you step in his place for todays journey?” Asked a nameless voice from the Shipping Corp. </div>
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A short time later, I found myself at the pier. The ship which I had seen from my home loomed ahead and I stopped momentarily to marvel at its huge size. Anchors were being pulled in and it was being untied from the dock. The crates and barrels for the outward journey were being tied down and the crew was in a mad rush to leave before the storm hit the island. A whistle and then a holler broke the spell and I hurriedly walked down towards my own ship. The crew was in full force and someone hollered for me to hot foot to the cabin as the ship was pulling anchor and heading out of the bay. </div>
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The waters were getting choppy and the ship was swaying and heaving even though the crew tightened the ropes and the goods. A storm was brewing and the harbor offered no safety. Anchors were raised and final calls were made. The sails soon caught the easterlies and became taut. As the ship start to move away, I felt my lungs draw a deep breath of the salty air and I felt alive once more. </div>
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Time passed by and the land we left behind became a distant memory. The ocean stretched from one horizon to the next and there was no land in sight. Looking upwards, I could see nothing but a few stray clouds as they floated past the bright sun which seemed to blind me with its light. The screech of the sea gulls which ebbed and rose seemed never ending, yet seemed to break the deadening monotony. The ship rose and fell as it tried to ride out the storm and the creaking sounds from the hull below my feet made me wonder if it would last this storm. </div>
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Lightning flashed in the distance and one could hear the gentle booming thunder even over the waves which crashed against the hull. The rolling and churning clouds made their way from one end of the horizon to the next. I really don’t know how much time passed by, yet when I came back to my senses I noticed that the wind had died down. There was utter silence all around. A sailor in the crow’s nest was hollering while the sailors in the sea water swept decks were barking and cursing in return. It was still pitch black outside and it started to rain heavily. The sudden downpour soaked me to the bone. </div>
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Minutes turned into hours and not even a speck of god forsaken rock appeared on the horizon. Looking up, I saw a pale yellow moon appear on the horizon. Turning around, I made my way to the cabin for a shot of whiskey to still my beating heart which seemed to beat so hard as if it wanted to pop out and seek shelter elsewhere.</div>
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Upon entering the room, I flipped the lights on. Total darkness prevailed yet my hand persisted in flipping it back and forth hoping the lights would come on. Down below, I felt the generators kick in and the intercom blared that the hull had been breached and the pumps are on. I felt the ship tilt to one side as it struggled to regain the balance yet failed. I lit the hurricane lantern and hung it in the corner. The constant swaying of the ship was starting to make me uneasy and I grabbed whatever I found nearby to steady myself. As I neared the intercom, I flipped it on and asked for a status update. The future looked grim as we faced certain death as I started to pray to all the Gods I knew. </div>
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The darkness began to clear as I groggily regained my senses and claw back from the nameless horror pits which I had been dragged to. I woke up after what seemed like many eons with every inch of my body screaming with pain and I slowly started to sit up. I was wondering where I was and what happened to the ship. A sunken vessel with debris around it drew me as if I was in a trance. There were small school of fishes and at times a lonesome shark swimming in and out of the open port holes As I near the deck, some memory ignites and I realize that this sunken ship was my own. The ship which was once proudly sailing the seas was now lying on the bottom of the sea, its sails tattered and torn, its hull breached and the crew dead. As I floated around, the cabin door which had the company emblem gently swings in the currents as if inviting me to enter. As I swim past, the dead crew seemed to look out wanting an escape which they’ll never get doomed to be trapped in this watery grave till eternity.</div>
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The heavy knock on the door and the persistent loud voices woke me up from a horrible dream. I woke up with a gasp as I realized that it was early in the morning and the sun was burning away the last remnants of the dream I was caught in. Sweat was pouring down my face and into my shirt which was soaking wet. The dream was so persistent that the visions seemed imprinted into my mind forever. It seemed to pursue me into this world as I toppled backwards and fell out of the chair.</div>
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Opening the door, I saw my Bill standing at the door giving me the puzzled look. Drawing the ship port curtains aside, I saw that the city life was in full swing as the ship neared its destination. As time wore on, the lingering effects of the dream faded. Time flew by, I felt the ship dock at the pier, heard the loud curses as the ramp was lowered and help was ought to unload the shipment. Taking a horse drawn carriage to the city where I grew up, I left for shopping district hoping it will be tame compared to the dream I had. The first thing which I will be doing is hitting the well maintained children parks so that I can use the swings and slides for a few hours to dispel the persistent dream.</div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-52253500258301686082016-08-15T17:00:00.002+05:302016-08-15T17:00:20.668+05:30The Interrogation Of Nivens McTwisp <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The darkness
seemed to clear, my head started to pound and the body ached like someone had
pulled me through a clothes wringer machine. Looking around, I see that I am in
a dimly lit room with white florescent light lining the ceiling . </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Looking out
the solitary window, all I see are stars and a lonely moon travelling across
the sky. I rubbed my head wishing the awful splitting headache away. My legs
are weak as if all the energy had been drained out of my system. As the
pounding headache and body aches disappear, I look around and see a man sitting
across from me and another man leaning against the far wall. I start to inquire
why I am being interrogated and what I am being charged for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Hello. I am
Detective Sam and that’s Detective Ryan. It seems like you have regained your
senses. I need you to explain to me once again what you were doing at the
tavern.” Asked the investigating officer as he flashed me his badge..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I started to
gentle massage my forehead to get rid of hangover induced headache. A glass of
water and a bottle of Asprin appeared before me. As the headache receded,
memories rushed back and I remembered the turn of events that led to this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">All I was
doing was sitting on a garden chair while listening to one of my relatives
telling me the importance of getting married as early as possible to any woman
in town even if she is a total stranger and having a few dozen kids. I was
getting bored listening to my aunts babble which went on and on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">My attention
started to wander around and I noticed a girl wearing a knee length one piece
skirt and pocket watch emerge from one of the hedges located near me. Seeing
that she had caught my attention she muttered “My names is Alice. Have you seen
a rabbit anywhere? Harvey wanted to go on an adventure but I can’t find him
anywhere. and</span><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Oh my ears
and whiskers! I'm late, I'm late I'm late!” as she stared at the pocket watch </span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">as she ran past</span><i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I got up and started to chase her to inquire about her nonexistent
whiskers and what she’s late for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My
clothes started to tear, and scratches appeared as I hopped through neatly
trimmed hedges and the chase lead through grassy plains. In the distance, I saw
a huge tree and the blabbering girl standing underneath gesturing me to hurry
up. As I neared, my heart skipped a beat as I saw her jump into a hole. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I stood
at the edge and peered into the dark hole. Nothing could be seen. I mumbled and
then yelled “Hello. Hello. You okay down there?” But I heard no response.
Seconds turned into minutes and I assumed the worst. I turned around and
started to hop away when I heard an echoing voice “Want to munch on something
that says Eat me? Meet a hooka smoking caterpillar sitting on a huge mushroom
asking you if you want to get high as a kite, find dragons in the fridge and
drink its blood to make your wishes come true?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I said
“Of course. What do I do? I can’t see a dang thing down there. I haven’t
brought along a torch and I hope you aren’t expecting me to jump down there.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Alice’s
head popped out of the ground and she heaved herself up till her elbows were
resting on the grassy ground. Looking upwards, I saw the sun peeking through
the leaves as if trying to figure out what’s happening under the tree shade.
Looking at the blond haired girl, I saw that the face had turned beet red in
anger as she stared at me and yelled “Look here mister what’s your name. I
can’t do everything for you and if you didn’t remember to bring along a torch
and something to lower yourself then that’s your bad luck. Why don’t you try
jumping down here you old fart?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I woke up
and let out a loud groan. My body ached and I wondered how many bones had
broken as I fell into the hole. Looking around, I saw a room with multiple
doors with a table located in the center. On the table was a bottle with a sign
“Drink me.” With nothing else to quench my thirst, I took a gulp or two. The
world started to spin and my clothes became a few sizes too large. As I emerged
from under a pile of clothing, I noticed that I was totally nude and looking
upwards I saw that the table size had increased it seems. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While
searching for </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">food and
drinks, I saw </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">a
familiar face. I cleared my throat and said “Awhile back, you had gotten your
panties in a knot because I was taking too long. Well. I made it here. Make me
a sandwich and get me a beer. While you are at it, show me the fridge full of
dragons.” And officer, that’s when the fight started.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Well. The
folks who attended the gathering at Mr. Macpherson daughters wedding reception
aren’t too happy with you and the host has a different version. You got bored
talking to your aunt. You wandered off and found yourself at the coffee, snacks
and bar. You need to watch the Dark English Ales they had there. Alice, the
bartender says you got a bit tipsy and started to strip on one of the tables.
Court date in a few days. The lawyer is coming over tomorrow. And did you find
any dragons in their fridge?” Replied the tired and visibly irritated officer.<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“I never got
that far. And Mr. MacPherson is wrong. It wasn't the dark ales. I'm used to
those. I don't remember a wedding, but remember distinctly needing something to
drink.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The officer
spat his tobacco juice he'd been hoarding in his cheek over top the chair where
it landed with a splat near the corner of the gray interrogation room. “Suffice
it to say, you wrecked the place, took out three fake gazebo's and turned the
doves loose before the wedding party got to leave.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“I slightly
remember a Jabbor-Wockey.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“No, Mr.
McTwisp, they were doves, not a...a...Jabbor-Wockey.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Doves you
say?” Mr. McTwisp recollected no doves in any box but a huge flying nine headed
Jabbor Wockey. They heard a door clang, and two sets of feet walking down the
hallway. The door to the room opened, spilling in bright yellow faded
florescent light from the outside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Hey Fargus,
his aunt is here to get him.” “Well. Lucky you.” Fargus sarcastically stated.
He'd heard enough, had enough and knew enough to know that this guy was heading
to Bellevue as soon as the judge could write the order out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Aunt Mona!”
Mr. McTwisp stood up unsteadily still on his feet, holding on to the brown
industrial made chair. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Come on
Simpson, we can't keep Harvey waiting, you know he gets agitated in these
places.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Yes Auntie.
Where is he?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">“Waiting out
in the hall.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Both officers
looked at each other as the one who brought her in shrugged. “Uh, ma'am, may I inquire
as to whom this Harvey is? Brother? Father? Friend?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Aunt Mona
looked at the cop like he'd just lost his head in front of her. “He's a six
foot rabbit of course! Now, come on Simpson, get to hopping, we can't keep him
waiting!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-91221275961285299662016-08-02T09:30:00.000+05:302016-08-02T09:30:17.877+05:30Lingering hate in which I drown <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHF8uNDQx2LZvY8rOJcD1fcE46rKjnr5dUQZFuKBU39blOpgJBrhH_q1UTJLU86PsDuv7vyptBTISWDnN2RCxZ9Ua7VZYKoO8nkPseNuVjyfcMDFVAC2vdPzznrCRNbkob2ldie1hFxFxe/s1600/1365628934_6490_hate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHF8uNDQx2LZvY8rOJcD1fcE46rKjnr5dUQZFuKBU39blOpgJBrhH_q1UTJLU86PsDuv7vyptBTISWDnN2RCxZ9Ua7VZYKoO8nkPseNuVjyfcMDFVAC2vdPzznrCRNbkob2ldie1hFxFxe/s320/1365628934_6490_hate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Image Taken Off The Net</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following poem has been written in the Kryielle format. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A
kyrielle is written in quatrains (a stanza consisting of 4 lines). Each
quatrain must have a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing
as the last line of each stanza). Each line within the poem consists of only
eight syllables</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"> </span><div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
headstrong winds raging inside<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Showing no
emotions I’ve died<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The heavy
burden weighs me down<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Lingering
hate in which I drown<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Bitter
memories haunting past<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Moments
linger on shrapnel blast <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Seeking to
topple your crown<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Lingering
hate in which I drown<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Seeking peace
for my mind<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Troubled
memories past far behind <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Brace to
topple the demon crown<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Lingering
hate in which I drown<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Looking
inside searching for release<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Prison I am
locked in no peace<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
whispering memories frown<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Lingering
hate in which I drown<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-15328730836368254822016-07-31T12:09:00.002+05:302016-07-31T12:09:39.765+05:30The Case Of The Disappearing Cats<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfXaUjmGd3Q7WWKwRDaS9Ob0YwtkXlkqG2WbWeqvtxk4fgJ3_FcnVvCuqtrnj6US2PulQbFmqMksSQULzo4iYYpb4kGB_czvIa1xk4xpM33XFR0V5SgbkgwJqTPait_pO5mQOJFZbHrAK/s1600/i00179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfXaUjmGd3Q7WWKwRDaS9Ob0YwtkXlkqG2WbWeqvtxk4fgJ3_FcnVvCuqtrnj6US2PulQbFmqMksSQULzo4iYYpb4kGB_czvIa1xk4xpM33XFR0V5SgbkgwJqTPait_pO5mQOJFZbHrAK/s320/i00179.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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About a few years ago when I had gotten up from a short nap on a Sunday afternoon, I noticed that a bunch of cats were making lots of noise outside the house. At first, I ignored it thinking that they will go away by themselves. But the sound was persistent. So I went outside and took a peek. It was not exactly what I had expected.<br />
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There was a mother cat with 3 kittens sitting on the driveway. The kittens were really hungry it seemed. The mother cat saw me and just froze. So I backed up a bit and started thinking what should be done next.
After taking stock of the situation, I went inside to hunt for some food for the cat family. Going thru all the food items in the fridge, it was decided that just a simple bowl of milk was the best option at the moment. After locating a medium sized disposable bowl, I quickly poured some milk in the bowl and placed it near the cat/kittens, withdrew to a safe distance and hid behind the car to watch them.
All four looked at me and the bowl as if I was some alien from outer space and then at the bowl of milk and then back in my general direction and then back at the bowl of milk, not knowing what to do. Finally, the mother got curious and started investigating the bowl of milk. The kittens followed suit. Apparently they liked it so much that the milk simply disappeared in a matter of minutes. I refilled the bowl of milk so that they could have something whenever they got hungry.<br />
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After hiding the kittens behind some leftover construction stuff, the mother cat went off somewhere....probably to hunt for food. She used to come by on a regular basis initially, but as the kittens grew older...the visits became less frequent.<br />
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Of the three kittens, we gave the first 2 kittens the following names: Softy and blackie. I really do not remember what the third kitten was called. I don't think we ever gave it a proper name. No name suited it. It just seemed so unfriendly and mean. We really fell in love with Softie and Blackie. We really looked forward to seeing them each and every day. They were really inquisitive, friendly, adorable and it seemed like they really did like us.<br />
<br />
We fed them on a regular basis with whatever leftover food item we had. Whenever they got hungry between meals, they usually went on a hunting mission to see if they could catch something to eat like a mouse or a bird. As night time approached, they usually found a safe cosy corner in one of the trees or in between the leftover construction material. Early in the morning when I used to go out to get the paper, they used to see me from where ever they were hiding, run up to me and follow me around.<br />
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As time flew by, they got older, bigger, and bolder; they started venturing more and more outside our property. Pretty soon they only used to show up in the morning and in the evening by our front door and go meow...meow and wait till we showed up with something to eat. They always managed to lighten up our dull day and put a smile on our face. But I guess it was bound to happen. One fine day, they were all gone, and it has been ages since they disappeared. I think it all started with the meanie cat as I sometimes called it. It was the first one to leave. But it never occurred to me that one day that the remaining two would seek their own place. I guess what they say is true. We don't adopt cats, it's the cats who adopt us.
</div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-64159119247566372132015-10-25T14:24:00.006+05:302015-10-25T14:24:57.341+05:30The Farmhouse <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb3cuO9YX_UrzxMpnUTrSZmdbSC0rZuqCgit23G0D8BaqtD2Fl4PuYtIu27A9lQ018FStsUY5FzqUagRGRwqMXlIMO40uUx8XFED7Ko1P6YKP4jayiu6sApeZDtGVz9Cscizz5lseHId2/s1600/ba52b4bbc6f2759c4b8bbddb064c43b2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXb3cuO9YX_UrzxMpnUTrSZmdbSC0rZuqCgit23G0D8BaqtD2Fl4PuYtIu27A9lQ018FStsUY5FzqUagRGRwqMXlIMO40uUx8XFED7Ko1P6YKP4jayiu6sApeZDtGVz9Cscizz5lseHId2/s1600/ba52b4bbc6f2759c4b8bbddb064c43b2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
(Photo Taken From The Net)<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A neglected
dirt road led to a town where the creaking, weather worn swinging board at the
entrance said Welcome to Indian Wells and it showed a barren land where the
harsh winds refused to die down. A coyote let out a lonesome howl somewhere in
the distance. The moonlit town seemed deserted except for the stray dog that
was asleep under the front porch one of the few houses that stood out like
eyesore on a barren landscape. It seemed to be lost in some fleeting dream as
it let out a growl and then a bark before quieting down once more. </span></span></div>
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</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was a
lonesome Sunday night as the old woman sat on her porch, smoked the last of her
cigarette and finished off her beer. Looking upwards, she saw a few stray
clouds which floated past the full moon and seemed to mesmerize the viewer with
its light. Tilting the hat back and wiping the sweat off her brow, the old
woman looked down the valley, heard the rumble, rattle of some vehicle that
sounded like it was about to fall apart. Hardly anyone ever passed through this
barren, rocky, desolate windswept landscape which seemed all but forgotten
unless it was hired help or if they wanted something from the Smith folks over
at the other side of the hill. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The seasons
had flown by and it was already early spring. A young woman had once stood on
the same porch, staring outwards at the agricultural fields, yet age had taken
its toll and now an ageing woman stood in her place. The memories which she had
thought were long forgotten resurfaced every so often to haunt me. “You still
awake?” Jim asked as he ran his fingers down the sleeping woman’s bare arm. Taking
a deep breath, she shook her head and mumbled in the negative. He started to
massage her neck as he heard her sob quietly as the bittersweet memories
flooded back into her mind. A tinge of sadness at the loss of humanity and the
promise of immortality made the woman wonder why she agreed to give it all up
for the guy she loved.<span> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Time had
flown by and one moment blended into another as she tried to forget her bitter past.
Her only faithful companions now were the moon and stars which lit her path.
The coyotes had gone quiet as they had their fill and would leave the farm
alone this night. Looking down at the field now overgrown with weeds, wild
grass and shrubs, she wondered if it was possible to keep on farming in these
inhospitable lands all by herself. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The over
grown field needed to be plowed, leveled, seeded and fertilizer spread
evenly<span> </span>so that another bountiful harvest
could be harvested, yet the hired help had not arrived yet. Shaking her
clenched fist at the sky, the old woman cursed every God she could think of and
grumbled about the slim chance of rain and how it might ruin the harvest if the
drought continued much longer. Looking across the field and into the barn, she
decided to check the harvester, tractor and the trucks to see if they were up
to the task.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Firing up the
harvester was easier than the tractor which refused to cooperate. The starter
coil needed to be replaced and pistons were worn out. After loading the truck with
drums for diesel, she hollered at the one of the men sitting in the dark shadows
that the hired help might arrive at any time and that she needed to head off to
town to see what can be done about certain pending business. Grunting back an
acknowledgment, a giant beast of a man hobbled down the dusty path to light the
lanterns near the entrance of the farm and wait for the hired help to show up.
Driving down the road towards town excited her since trips down there were rare
and it gave her an opportunity to stock up on essentials and get in touch with
what was happening in town. Time flew by and the huge farm fields came to an
end and the truck soon started to follow a lonesome river. Looking over her
shoulder, Nancy realized that the river looked so cool and refreshing and she
wanted to walk barefoot on the green grass. The river looked so free and it
seemed to call her out so strongly that truck seemed to hesitate for a moment.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Time started
to move on ever so slowly like thickening molasses in a cold winter day. The
meandering river threw her back in time to an era long forgotten. Gasping for
breath she started to drown in time. One after the other, memories started to
sweep past her. The dark thoughts flowing like a raging river swept her back into
the past which she thought was long forgotten.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">She slowly
came to the senses like a snake waking up from deep sleep. The sound of a truck
horn barreling past like demon on a hunt drew her out the dark thoughts she was
floating in. Nancy found her way to the edge of the stream and took a moment
which seemed like an eternity to wash off all the dust, grime and sweat off. Looking
at the reflection in the water while the water dripped off her head and face
made her realize where once stood a young woman now stood a white haired wrinkled
woman who had the haunted look in her eyes. She sat awhile under the
outstretched limbs of the tree and realized how lonesome her life was and
wondered where she had gone wrong.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">She slowly
drove on and on and the remaining part of the journey was uneventful as the
town grew nearer. Electricity poles, town lights and small houses started to
dot the moving landscape. It was getting late, the moon would soon start
sinking lower into the horizon and soon she will have to get back home before
the sun reappeared over the horizon. Time flew by and pretty soon lush
countryside replaced the dry dusty lands. The river had disappeared off into
some other direction and heavily populated roads were seen running near the
dusty road from which the lonesome traveler emerged. The sounds of long haul
trucks were heard humming nearby and a lonesome train horn went off somewhere
in the distance reminding her how far from home she was. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A town square
emerged and the dusty truck pulled into the only rest stop. Emerging from the
shadows, a large burly man stepped up to the cab door, and asked her if she
wanted a takeout or would be dining inside. As the old woman stepped into the restaurant,
a soft hiss and then a cough from one of the kitchen guys who was taking orders
brought her out of the thoughts she was in. An order was placed and the old
woman wandered off to one of the tables. After what seemed like an eternity, light
spilled onto her face from the high intensity torch as one of the gargoyles who
had occupied this timeless eateries stomped impatiently once more to hiss at her
that the slop was ready and asked if she was heading off to the eating section
or not. The infuriated woman cursed loudly, grabbed her food, headed down the
hallway and back towards the eating area.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Pulling out
of the joint, the truck ate up the miles as quickly as the swift winds above. A
tow truck was seen pulling a car out of the ditch. The train station soon
loomed into view. The train finally arrived though very late. There were a
number of compartments. All were empty except the very last box. Realizing that
they had reached their destination, the boys started to dismount the train and
made their way to the waiting car near the exit. The small group checked their
bags once more to see if everything was unloaded from the train before it was
put in the car’s trunk. The constant chatter of the boys kept the old ladys
mind away from the grim thoughts that were floating around in her mind. The
oldest of the boys introduced himself as Tom who talked just about everything
under the sun and everyone really seemed to enjoy the monologue. Pretty soon, the
wandering group fell asleep one by one and the only sounds heard was the
occasional snore or some deep sleep mumble as if someone was plagued by some
bad dream.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The moon was lazily
moving through the sky, yet it seemed like the old woman’s hunger was growing
stronger with each passing moment. She tried to shrug it off till she reached
her own farmlands, yet she finally decided to pull over to the side of the road
near an old abandoned farmhouse. She sat awhile gripping the steering wheel
tight, yet the vortex was dragging her deeper into itself. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Her
malevolent eyes roamed around till it focused on the blood soaked passenger
seat behind her. The eyes suddenly stopped on man who seeing the gaze fixated
upon him started to hyperventilate and become wide eyed. The deep red stains on
the floor in the far <span> </span>to corner of the
left hand side door made her slowly let out a long throaty growl and the hunger
grew in her stronger with each passing moment. Squirming backwards, the only
surviving boy kept begging her to let him go while he started looking for an
escape. The only response he heard was harsh laughter, a snarl and a swift slap
which snapped his head around till it slammed into the side door. Not being
able to back any further, he started to push himself up with his back towards
the door while making a last ditch effort to open it while grimacing in pain as
sharp teeth sunk into his neck. The last sounds that were heard before
abandoning the cab after pushing it into dense undergrowth was the gasping
breath of a man on his last leg. It was only a matter of time till they came
home and she’ll be waiting like she did for the rest. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">An old pickup
truck slowly rumbled past the wooded area as if searching for something. A
giant beast of a shadow leaned out and whispered the old ladys name. A few
leaves rustled as a shadowy figure emerged from the woods and rushed into the
waiting vehicle. A moment of silence and then the rumbling truck switched off
its headlights, backed into the wooded area. A door was heard opening, truck
swayed a bit and grunting sounds as if something heavy being lifted and
dropped. A door slammed shut and the engine roared to life once more. Without a
sound, the truck wound its way around the bend and into the dusty hills.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As the truck
slowly wound its way back to the farm, a shadowy figure appeared on the
passenger side and the woman asked in a hushed tone “Have they arrived yet?” A
momentary silence and then replied “Yes master. I’ve lodged them in their rooms
and I’ve put their luggage in their as well. They are waiting for you to return
and then they’ll start their work”. Fiercely glowing lantern lit the entrance
of the farm and the truck took a turn into the barren farm and finally stopped
in front of the porch. Yellow light spilled out of the partially open door and
in its light revealed not the stooped aging woman but a vibrant, youthful woman
who had seen it all. “Back the truck into the barn and dump it all in the back.
Make sure u tie them all down to the pole in the back. Don’t want them
wandering off till they are ready” barked the woman.<span> </span>The night was drawing to a close as the moon
was sinking deeper and deeper into the horizon. Walking inside, the woman shut
the door waiting till the darkness covered the land once more.</span></span></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span></b><div class="MsoNormal">
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</div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-44703714438706944992015-10-11T20:03:00.000+05:302015-10-13T18:08:27.691+05:30The Naimisharanya Excursion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background: rgb(243, 243, 243); font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Approximately
100 kilometers from Lucknow, there is <span style="color: #141823;">a small
temple town called Naimisharanya. It takes about two hours one way in a car. In
this album, I am sharing a few photos of our journey. It includes many things
like the temple itself, the agricultural fields, toll bridge, etc. Hope you
enjoy the photos.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background: rgb(243, 243, 243); color: #141823; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
Naimisharanya temple a major pilgrimage center and attracts devotees from all
over India. </span><span style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Naimisharanya is situated on the left bank of
the Gomti river, which is a tributary of the Ganges river. Naimisharanya is
popularly known as Neemsar or Naimisha. In the Bhagavata Purana it is
mentioned: naimishe animisha-kshetre. This means that Naimisha is the abode of
Lord Vishnu called by his name Animisha. Sri Vishnu Sahasranama (Sloka 23)
describes Lord Vishnu as Animisha, which means the one who is ever awake, ever
alert, and ever vigilant.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> <span style="background: rgb(243, 243, 243); color: #141823;">According to ancient legends, </span><span style="background: white; color: #373737;">Lord Maha Vishnu had killed demons at
this place within a nimisha (nimisha is a unit of time, the time it takes to
blink) and thence forth this are was called as Naimishaaranya.</span><span style="background: rgb(243, 243, 243); color: #141823;"> </span><span style="background: white; color: #373737;">It is also said that when Lord Maha Vishnu killed the demon
Gayasura with his Sudarshana Chakra his body was cut into three parts that fell
at three places, namely Paada Gaya (Gaya Kshetra in Bihar), Naabhi Gaya in
Naimisharanya and Kapali Gaya in Badri Kshetra (Badrinath). Hence Naimisharanya
is also called Nabhi Gaya Kshetra.</span> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background: white; color: #373737; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Nemi means the outer surface of the disc
(chakra) and the place where it fell is called by the name of Nemisharanya or
popularly called as Naimisharanya. The spot where the Nemi of the chakra fell
came to be known as Chakra Tirtha (a holy bathing place in the shape of a chakra)
and the surrounding forest area as Naimisharanya.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The spot where the Chakra struck the
earth and water sprung out became known as Chakra Tirtha. It is said to be the
center of the universe. It is said that the large sweet-water spring that marks
the location of Chakra Tirtha has no bottom.</span> It is said that if you bathe
in Chakra Tirtha and make an offering to the presiding deity, Sri Lalitha Devi,
on a full Moon or new Moon day that falls on a Monday, you will wash away all
the sins committed in a lifetime. <span style="background: rgb(243, 243, 243); color: #141823; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background: rgb(243, 243, 243); color: #141823; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Today, Naimisharanya Misrikh has numerous
pilgrim places to see around. This temple is renowned from the time of
Satya Yug or Kritha Yug, the most ancient times. It is the holy place where
many sages have performed their penance. It is believed that on visiting this
sacred place, people are rid of their sins. Upon visiting Naimisharanya, man
attains Moksh (liberation)</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background: rgb(243, 243, 243); color: #141823; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">People
say that anyone who meditates hard enough over here and rids oneself of worldly
desires will definitely attain some amount of divine power and force. Every
year, in the Hindu month of Phalgun, a temple festival known as Chaurasi Kosi
Parikrama is held in the honor of the sage.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0Neemsar, Misrikh-cum-Neemsar, Uttar Pradesh 261402, India27.3575806 80.484292800000048-0.74367640000000179 39.175698800000049 55.458837599999995 121.79288680000005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-53377300633521328812015-02-21T09:53:00.000+05:302015-02-21T09:53:54.410+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine...............</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine a clear glass bottle. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine a miniature wooden ship inside it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine it floating on water. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine the sails full of air.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine it barreling towards some safe harbor as dark clouds sweep the horizon and a miniature pirate hollers something. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine............</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Squinting hard, the woman swore that there was something there yet just couldn’t reach it no matter how hard she tried. Prying open the cork, a loud sound was heard as it flew across the room. “You are a bunch of arses taunting me. I’ll fix ya as soon as I reach ya”. One glass after another of the golden precious liquid was poured into the glass. Putting the empty bottle to her ear, the woman swore that she could hear loud laughter and coarse jokes aimed at her. Looking at the now empty bottle and the last glass of champagne with a tinge of regret, she thought she saw a pirate ship inside the bottle where the crew was going crazy. Pouring the fluid back, she shook the bottle, poured it all back and took a quick gulp munching whatever came along the way. “Gawd. That tasted awful. Do these filthy chaps ever take a bath.” She muttered as she tottered to the sink on another binge and purge session.</span></div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-87404768216539510592015-02-15T10:42:00.000+05:302015-02-20T10:57:16.119+05:30The National Obsession.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Let's talk about sport. Just like anything else in life, a sporting activity can draw our attention, mesmerize us leading us to become addicted by it. Sometimes it's only a section of society that follows a certain sport and at other times it's the whole nation. One sport which has drawn my attention recently is cricket. These days cricket teams from different nations are participating in a sporting event called World Cup and the winner gets the recognition as the best team. Each team has its own fan following. At times, teams shoulders grow heavy with the hope and expectations of their fans especially the ones that reach semifinals or the finals.</div>
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It is one sport which I never liked watching nor wanted to participate in. I still have a hard time understanding peoples obsession with this sport. Then there is the usual rivalry in this sport like in any other sport. We've got the India vs Pakistan cricket match coming up. The media has been hyping it up for the last few days in a similar manner as the Superbowl. Alot of ads have been sold. Tons of money is expected to be made even though it's not the final game<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">. Employees are expected to make excuses for missing work, being absent from their desk/cubicle or going slow on work. A newspaper is complaining that school test days are clashing with this game (reporter probably has misplaced priorities).</span></div>
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It's really sad when one sport becomes a national obsession while other sports where athletes are doing well due to their own efforts are not given more funding through private contributions or through a sports body nor provided enough coverage by the media. At least, the money that the winner and runner ups get should be increased in sport so that more folks participate in the hopes of getting a huge sum if they win. Many different sports can occupy the limelight at the same time and folks excel in different sports. Therefore, options should be available from which a person can choose which one is suited for him/her.</div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-37082690298966438682015-02-14T10:05:00.000+05:302015-02-20T10:15:06.653+05:30Harnessing our natural resources<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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At the moment, majority of the world uses petroleum products with very little emphasis put on renewable energy sources like solar, wind power, hydro, thermal energy or harnessing the oceans tidal energy.Most of the power plants use coal, petroleum based products or a combination of coal and gas based to generate electricity which is distributed to consumer via the main power grid.<br />
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Not enough emphasis is placed on environmental friendly energy farms. Most vehicles at the moment use either petrol, diesel or natural gas to power itself. Commercial buildings and homes usually use electricity (taken from the main power grid)to power the home appliances/office machinery, gas based water heaters to heat the water and either an electric or gas cooking range to cook food.
What if these fossil fuels run out sooner than later? What if our nations lose access to the fuels because of blackmail tactics, or some natural calamity? What if we are deprived of these energy sources before we have a viable energy plan is ready?<br />
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I believe we are totally unprepared to handle any energy crisis in the short or long term.
Some nations draw petroleum products from their own oil wells/gas fields or mine coal from areas rich in these things. Yet, it's not enough to power the whole nation. Therefore, we are purchasing large quantities of energy products from the middle east.These oil producing countries are earning billions of dollars each year without plowing any portion of the profits for discovering newer and cleaner/less polluting technologies.<br />
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At times petroleum prices are raised without rhyme or reason. High prices encourages folks to save energy by using less energy at home, car pooling, using public transport or even cycling to work to save a few bucks. Low prices causes the opposite reaction.
Maybe the oil producing nations feel threatened by our efforts on renewable energy efforts or not spending enough on fossil fuels thereby suddenly lowering prices causing some environmentally friendly companies to became unviable. It's still not too late for nations to plan out an alternate energy backup plan. Enhancing the capacity of wind, solar, hydro power, geothermal and tidal based power plants by investing more money in these areas will go a long way in giving us a brighter and cleaner future.</div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-69777114112650883902015-02-11T11:05:00.000+05:302015-02-20T11:08:35.833+05:30Return Of The Muffler Man<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoHLKT94kj_XIKF5nlvB21sn8CYlCoFBU1LrM8wjQyekzJ5gAfil5pVa8tDYTgmVL8jrw40Qx06SQVXRYRcphC7eI1PZ32U-KZTg_u1m0ghgA8Mg1s_Yr-m9s8XiiBQrNPOWrZvGPx2vwg/s1600/10966915_341168059424425_548237947_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoHLKT94kj_XIKF5nlvB21sn8CYlCoFBU1LrM8wjQyekzJ5gAfil5pVa8tDYTgmVL8jrw40Qx06SQVXRYRcphC7eI1PZ32U-KZTg_u1m0ghgA8Mg1s_Yr-m9s8XiiBQrNPOWrZvGPx2vwg/s1600/10966915_341168059424425_548237947_n.jpg" height="135" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">(Photo Taken From The Net)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">It's the return of the mufflerman. The election results have been declared and the public has declared Arvind Kejriwal as Delhi chief minister once more. His last stint lasted only 49 days when he adruptly quit the office on 14-Feb-2014 as his party was unable to pass the proposed anti-corruption legislation due to a lack of support from other political parties.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">The party logo is the broom, and he is promising a clean govt. Will he be able to fulfill all lf his promises to the masses or will some/ most of them be swept under the carpet in the same sense as debris gets swept out of sight? Will he stay in the office for the full 5 year term or will he quit again when he encounters some new problem? Only time will tell.</span></span></div>
Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-64865147165834195952014-12-07T13:10:00.001+05:302014-12-08T14:06:58.878+05:30E-Books Vs Real Books. Which Ones o You Prefer?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US">In today's time, many publishing houses are
opting for the digital format over the printed version. The physical copy of a
book has a solid feel to it and at times is visually appealing than the digital
format. One can walk down a book isle, see what is on display, pick one up,
flip through the pages and see if it is worth purchasing. The digital store
provides the convenience of browsing through pages of books on sale where you
can read the description, see if it appeals to you and the customer can order
whichever book appeals to them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">A certain number of books as decided by the
store outlet need to be maintained at all times since a customer can walk in at
anytime to browse through the choices to see what catches his/her eye. The
digital version is easier to sell as it can be purchased and downloaded through
most electronic devices and one does not need to maintain a physical stock
thereby reducing the operating costs and boosting profits as there won't be any
unsold stock left if the books/magazines loses favour with the customers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I have always loved the feel of a real book
in my hands and it's a real pleasure taking ones times reading the contents,
pausing for a bit and coming back to restart ones reading. The feel of real
paper between ones finger and thumb as the page is flipped or when a finger
runs down the page. Neither batteries nor a power plug required. The smell of a
freshly printed book is something. Or discovering a long forgotten
book/magazine, opening it gingerly so that the pages don't tear, spine doesn't
break, mesmerized by the combination of rush of old memories, yellowing paper,
smell and rediscovering a long forgotten yet cherished book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">E-Readers are fine and they are appropriate
when one is travelling or when is constraint for space, yet they do not have
the same charm as a real book. There seems to be an infinite choice of books to
read and it seems folks who have such devices will never run out of material to
read. One can pack a large collection of electronic books inside a slim device
and read the contents at ones leisure and at any location.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">As a young child, I remember going to the
library or book store to see if something new was available either in reprint
or something which I had missed earlier and was now available on the book shelf
and I could and could spend hours upon hours there without getting bored as
long as they had a large selection of books to browse through. I just love reading
and I guess this hobby has formed the bedrock of my writing which I really
enjoy quite a bit. I have noticed that kids these days at times have lost this
precious habit. They want everything done quick, are always in a hurry to
complete something and have no patience to pick up a book and actually read it
for many long hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Today's kids who are born in the digital
era do not know the joys of a real book nor the joys of getting lost between
the covers of an interesting book or spending time in a library. Casual reading
will soon become a lost art, as folks will rely on the internet to discover
facts, read books and even do the copy/paste homework submission without
actually learning anything. I really dread what the future holds for these
digital kids when they finally join the society on their own. A future without
books and a society with no patience, imagination, reading nor writing skills.
A very dull society which is intoxicated by the short term, bite sized
pleasures provided by the television or computers for people who have very
short term attention span. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">The older generation seems to had the best
of both worlds as we grew up in an era where we had real libraries, real books
and one could get lost within the covers of a book. The bygone era when one could
walk into either a library, a well stocked bookstore or even a cosy second hand
bookstore and 'get lost' within the covers of a book only to be brought back to
the present when the owner threatens to lock you inside the store for the night
if you don't go home. Folks would not
mind making excursions to these much-loved spots as their imagination
flourished and satisfaction was usually guaranteed upon exit. As they
discovered a long lost world, are submerged in a battle, slay dragons, raid
ships and discover long lost pirates' treasure.
I really do hope the younger generation is able to disconnect itself
from the dependence called the internet to rediscover the joys of taking ones
time in reading a real paperback book before they totally disappear and become
such a rarity that one will only find them in museums or in some long lost
corner of the basement/ attic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-658005384517744562.post-9485794298324502112014-11-08T20:23:00.000+05:302014-11-08T21:13:54.093+05:30Deewali - The Festival Of Lights And The Colorful Vendors<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Diwali. This word means a line or a row
of lamps/earthen lamps. It's also called the festival of lights and it's an
annual festival. Cities light up like and homes look as pretty as a newly
married decked up bride. The date of this festival varies every year. It
represents the triumph of good over evil. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the North, Diwali celebrates the
return of Lord Rama, King of Ayodhya, with his wife Sita and brother Lakshman
from a 14-year exile and a war in which he vanquished the demon king
Ravana. In South India, Diwali festival often commemorates the conquering
of the Asura Naraka, a powerful king of Assam, who imprisoned tens of thousands
of inhabitants. It was Krishna who finally subdued Naraka and freed the
prisoners. It is celebrated in the Tamil month of Aipasi (Thula month) ‘Naraka Chaturdasi'
thithi, preceding amavasai. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some of the photos shown below were
taken last year while the rest were taken this year. Street vendors start
selling decorative items to customers. It can be decorative household items,
colored earthen lamps either for decorative purpose or using it as a decorative
earthen oil filled lamp. Rice puff type of stuff and candies made of sugar are
sold while folks decorate their homes with electric lights or oil filled
diyas/candles. Fireworks are set off in the evening and folks have tons of fun
enjoying themselves.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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A vendor selling Poha (Flattened Rice) and toys made out of sugar.</div>
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Circular gift box containing nuts</div>
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Another gift box for gifts.</div>
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Vendors selling rice puffs and Poha (flattened rice)</div>
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Vendor selling earthen clay lamp</div>
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Brightly colored clay pots and earthen clay lamps.</div>
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Two guys selling bamboo flutes.</div>
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<b>B</b>rightly colored fruits and vegetables made out of clay.</div>
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Brightly colored figures made out of clay.</div>
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Clay decoration.</div>
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Street vendor selling decorative vases and figures.</div>
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Cashews and Almonds as gift items.</div>
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Decorative items made out of clay.</div>
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Clay figures playing instruments.</div>
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Vendor selling candles and incense sticks.</div>
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Nikhil Panthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14296860193940325223noreply@blogger.com0