Rejection Phobia - A Typical Male Syndrome

Blind dates, long distance affairs, telephonic relations, pen friends, childhood crushes and a typical male behind them all! Everyone is unique, every man is different. Yet, the fear of rejection always lurks like an inevitable shadow around an urban man. So, let’s find out more about this typical male syndrome.

Ex Girlfriends, Ghosts and That Secret Potion of Desire

Sweet melodies of yesteryears often soothe his soul. Confused past, hazy memoirs and long drives in his father’s old gypsy illuminates his apartment. The shadows of his ex girlfriends keep haunting him. Those larger than life greeting cards, those soft toys, those bracelets, those watches, those letters are locked inside his closet. Time changes, feelings evolve, old friends reunites. The air never remains the same.

How to Tweet Like Jim Morrison

Microblogging! The new addition to the content hungry universe is making everyone bit crazy. Some people are investing hefty sum of money to gain followers, some folks tweeting extra sensible quotes, some individuals trying to be little humorous, the celebrities gaining millions of followers overnight and some people are still dazed. They retweet, copy paste some old quotations, sometimes news and views and most of the times they just keep gazing at the time line without having any words to write.

Bedroom Story - What Indian Women Want In Bed?

Indian women are flawless, intelligent and wild in bed. They know the art of taming a wild stallion, they knows the magic of weaving a satisfying tale. Everyone is unique and every girl has their priorities.

Winter Loneliness - Why Loneliness is Ecstatic?

The music of David Gilmour (On an Island) is creating a dreamlike ambience; the loner is busy writing his chronicle in his studio apartment, he is capturing the ecstasy of being lonely in an overcrowded city. He is mutely inhaling the drifting joy and the lingering silence, he is growing from within, he is catching the stars, and he is alive…

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Tuesday, March 30, 2010

A Cold-Hearted Indian Summer

I am getting baked
I am tanned
I am poked
I am squeezed
I am feeling the heat.

I can see ice cream stalls
I can see colorful balloons
I can see the summer
Trying to invade leisurely
I am no more caressed
I am no more soothed
I am no more under cover…

The baked Indian Summer
Is creating cacophony
As the sun shining voraciously…

My eyes are wet
Surrounded by summer sweat
Powder and colognes
Pampers my roasted skin
The cottons and my shades
Save me from those active rays.

I am waiting for the benevolent winter
I am waiting for a pleasing flavor.
I hate the waves, I hate the silent storm
I abhor summer from the core of my soul.

The morn no more looks fine…
The Indian summer exude pain
The hot air bites my body
The sunscreen lotions
No more prevents those spikes of disharmony.
There is a wait for that tranquil Himalayan breeze
There is always a silent prayer for the rains.

I am getting baked
I am tanned
I am poked
I am squeezed
I am no more feeling the comforting waft.
I am bounded by dragons
As I am struggling to capture
The whims and fancies of a callous Indian summer…

Sunday, March 28, 2010

A Quirky Urban Muse

The lift man is absent. The staircase is empty. Everyone is sleeping or watching T.V in their rooms. There are noises of pain and lust all around. There are laughter and giggling. The garage is houseful. All cars are resting in delight.

The man is wandering and trying to feel the unusual Sunday. He was looking little confused and dazed. The roads were empty. The trees were swaying with the breeze. The birds were chirping with a divine glory. He has nothing to do, he is a stranger to this place, and he is completely clueless about the urban habits.

Nights are long and days are short here – someone said to him. Everybody slogs like dogs and sleeps like vampires on Sundays. An urban life is so full of struggle, there is nothing like an urban boredom. You have everything but still you feel unhappy and lonely at the end of the day. You feel like a mechanical heart in an urban setting, you just can’t feel anything from within. The man was confused. He couldn’t understand why that boy is brushing his teeth in the afternoon. He can’t understand why everyone is so happy and relaxed.

An urban life isn’t so easy my friend – someone tells the man. You have to know the mechanics to survive here. You’ve to be practical and bright to live in a congested city life. An urban man looks like a machine; he wears bluetooth devices in his ears and can’t live without his sunglasses. He walks in style and smiles with grace but feels nothing from inside. There is a void all around. The apartments look beautiful from outside but there are so many complications inside. Everything is different here my friend – someone tells the man.

The man is no more confused now. He got his lessons. He is moving ahead with his blue shirt and black cap. He is looking like a new age Don Juan. He is definitely shining in his urban avatar. He is our newly appointed Pizza delivery man...

Saturday, March 27, 2010

A Blissful Sunday Morn...

Sitting, thinking and loving the air around me
Sipping, inhaling and enjoying those cups of coffee.
I am resting, feeling and evaporating in desire
The blissful Sunday morn
Is transforming my existence
The divine harmony around me
Is making me a leisurely soul…

I have forgotten my pain
I have diluted myself in pleasure
I am just feeling the blessed sunshine
The blissful Sunday morn
Is transforming my thoughts for a while…

The laziness is captivating my essence
The boredom is gone
The boundaries of liberty is fading
The eccentricity is slowly disappearing.
The blissful Sunday morn
Is creating melodies of freedom…
Sitting, inhaling and feeling the eternal joy
I am smiling, scribbling and capturing
The beauty of this heavenly morn…

The Rise of Blogging

Time changes, trend changes and life takes a U-turn. The future of blogging is definitely bright. We are lucky to be a part of this history because there is nothing like freedom of expression. There is nothing like the freedom of exploration. Blogging is going places. It’s reaching the farthest corners of the world. It's expanding like the Spartans. United States, England, Australia and India are the biggest countries in terms of blogging.

Every blogger feels a sense of pride, every writer smiles after a brief blog post, every creator sways in glory after uploading his or her creation, every loner finds a company in the form of a blog…

Life is simple, life is fun, life is all about sharing my friend, life is all about creating something new everyday and every blogger knows that. They love to flaunt their inner expression with the world. They love to share their pain and success through blogs. The planet is coming closer, the world is looking beautiful, and the globe is happy because you are smiling tonight…

There are only advantages of blogging. People may say blogging makes you an introvert but I say blogging makes you sane with each passing day. Even your insanity looks beautiful here. Bloggers blog like celebrities and celebrities blog like bloggers now. Yet, one should always stay away from landscapes that exude violence and disturbance, one should stay awake. The present generation is changing the world with their blogs. They aren't just scribbling. Their thoughts are stimulating governments. The history is going through the brightest phase. The world is definitely changing for good with the rise of blogging...

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Pink Floyd in My Living Room

Sleep walk, hallucinations and an everlasting boredom
Keep lurking in the mauve shadows.
Nightmares, lightening and thunderstorms
Keep annoying him endlessly.
The mountain falls, animals die in his kingdom.

The Ozymandias is falling from his throne
Women in olive attire beckon him
Life is full of thorns; it isn't flowery anymore.
Sleep walk, hallucinations and an everlasting boredom
Keep lurking in the mauve shadows.

Thursday isn’t my day. Everything goes against me. My purple shirt isn’t lucky for me. I am often misunderstood and ill treated. I become so very insane. I become a ruthless moron. Confusions dances like a ghost and I keep wondering like a soul less freak. I sulk and my status updates are always so unhappy. I struggle to survive, I finally fall… Mr.Ozymandias!

Life isn’t so easy boy. Life isn’t so flowery. He continues his monologue. Suddenly he sees a flash of light. Suddenly he evolves into an evening delight. Suddenly he begins to fly. Suddenly everything looks bright.

What are you doing boy? Someone asks him and he just smiles like a baby. He becomes so happy. His mind becomes free; his arms sway like a humming bee. Butterflies appear and he begins to feel the sound of life.

The psychedelic trance amuses him.
His body swings with passion and
His face glows with fervor.
As he can hear the voices of freedom
Cruising through his music player
Armed with an everlasting symphony of desire...

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Ex Girlfriends, Ghosts and That Secret Potion of Desire

Sweet melodies of yesteryears often soothe his soul. Confused past, hazy memoirs and long drives in his father’s old gypsy illuminates his apartment. The shadows of his ex girlfriends keep haunting him. Those larger than life greeting cards, those soft toys, those bracelets, those watches, those letters are locked inside his closet. Time changes, feelings evolve, old friends reunites. The air never remains the same.

Old days never returns back, old memories keep lingering on, the present laughs at you and future tempts you for a beautiful sojourn. Phases of life come in different colours. Sometimes it’s red – full of movement, sometimes it’s green – peace, sometimes it’s orange – friendly, sometimes it’s white – silence and most of the time it’s black – darkness.

His life becomes a tale, his actions become stale, and he no more craves for rain. He writes poems, he plays guitar, he walks without his signature smile. He feels shy to talk to any girl; he is very sane.

He sees ghosts of Jim Morrison and dead poets in his dreams, he sees puzzling staircase and haunting castles. He tries to fly with the angels, he tries to dance with the dead, and he tries to become a self made moron.

The darkness slowly fades away and he sees lights once again. He tries to create everlasting memoirs. He sings love songs. He once again feels the beautiful storm. Romance replaces surrealism, joy replaces boredom. He becomes alive, he becomes strong. He smiles open heartedly. He dresses like a king and walks like a dream. He gets back his old face, he no more whines, he just nods with excitement.

Evening snow kisses him. Moonlit nights make him happy. He collects all his bad memories, burns them and becomes the king again. The story of is life no more dwells in pain…


Monday, March 22, 2010

What Woman Wants? An Inside Story

I am no dating coach, I am no womanizer - I am just an avid fantasist. I am no poet, I am no philosopher – I am just a dreamer. Talking about the most beautiful creation of God gives me pleasure. Woman’s life juggles between predictability and unpredictability.

What woman wants? The answer may differ from one woman to other but every girl loves to be loved. It’s a general human tendency to get appreciation and girls just love to get appreciated for every little thing they do. They love raindrops, they love the beautiful sunshine, they love art and they love poetry. Literature in any form fascinates their mind. They love to fantasize, they love to fly, and they love to decipher life at large. A woman’s heart is full of love but when they are broken- they become numb. Rejections give them fright while appreciation delights them from within. They epitomises beauty in every form.

Understanding a woman’s heart is difficult. Mood swings are just a part of their life. They feel happy now but may not feel in the same way tomorrow. The hormones keep changing with time. They are miraculous and divine. Their presence lights up homes, their presence brightens a party and their existence makes life so very beautiful.

Sometimes woman seek no excellence in a guy for loving him. They just get along with someone who feels good enough for them. The rules keep changing. Confidence and sense of humour plays a major role for attracting a woman. They can study a guy within 15 seconds. They are avid observers. They have the ability to scan from top to bottom from distance. They are so very sensitive. I feel bliss when I write about woman because they not only exude beauty but the unsolved mysteries associated with them stimulates my mind. The world around them looks so fine.

The maple leaves are flying in the air and blossoming white lilies are providing me a divine feeling. The world around me is same but my heart is evolving. Woman’s heart is soft but their mind is sharp. They are professionals, pilots, astronauts, writers, engineers and doctors. Women need attention, they need love, and they need to feel happiness all around. They become restless when their work is undone. They love conversations after making love. Everyday is a new day in a woman’s life.

I am no dating coach, I am no womanizer - I am just an avid fantasist. I am no poet, I am no philosopher – I am just a dreamer. These are only my opinions. Feel free to drop your lines…


Sunday, March 21, 2010

The Death of Poetry

Every morn, every noon, every night
He thinks about poetry
Every second, every moment
He inhales poetry…
Life without a verse seems insignificant
Life without a thought seems inadequate
The scribbling of his heart is losing its sheen
The fading bliss in his poems is torturing him…

The shallow life made him a moron
The morn no more reflects freedom
The night no more embodies relaxation.
The scribbling of his fragile heart is of no value.

Words dissolving into drops of weeping rain
His thoughts are becoming invalid.
He is unable to create anything fresh
He is struggling to write, he is becoming restless.

Far from the crowd, his words are away for a while
He is alone in his empty world.
He is no more weaving tales of hope.
He is no more telling stories of grief.
No metaphors and similes flying around him
He is struggling to find an apt word.

The art is diminishing slowly
The fire within him is dying
The pen is broken, no blank papers left
His poems are whining for words
His verses no more exudes glow.
He is witnessing the death of poetry
The poet is falling from his throne of hope
His words are gone
He is alone in his empty world.
Weeping, scribbling and thinking without a soul…

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Beautiful Joker

Psychedelic looks, sharp expressions and deep dark anguish
His frozen heart exudes lust, turmoil and shadows of a ghost town.
The joker is on the prowl
He is grinning, he is watching, he is humming the song of darkness
The joker is flaunting his powers tonight.   

Before the dawn, after midnight, during the wee hours of night
He is deciphering the silence, he is awake tonight.
The devils are scared,
The creatures of night flew away out of fright.
The joker is flaunting his powers tonight.

The night is deep like a solitary weep
The vampires and lycans are all asleep.
The witches no more flying above the deep blue sky
Only the joker is left to create a moronic atmosphere.

He is laughing, smiling and creating mayhem
His cold heart no more throbs for humanity.
He is the king of shadows, he epitomises destruction.
He is ugly, he is colourless, and he is shrewd.

The joker is on the prowl
The joker has left the town…
He is away for good; he is no more creating mayhem.
The stillness of solitude has vanished with him
The shadows of darkness no more exist.
The joker is on the prowl to find solace.

The morn has descended, the bats are asleep
The cuckoos cuckooing,
The joker is away for good.

He is no more troubling us
He is no more prowling in the dark.
He is just getting beautiful with time

The ugliness is vanishing
The make up is gone…
The rise of a beautiful joker signifies the end of darkness
The vanished ugliness deciphers the soul of light.


Friday, March 19, 2010

Midnight Poem

Gazing, breathing and inhaling thoughts
Half asleep, half awake, half alive
Gazing, feeling and remembering
Half heart, half pain, half everything
Half light, half darkness and half me
Gazing at that half filled bottle…

No thunder, no rain, no cloud
No stars, no white lilies in my living room.
Typing, thinking and typing again
The cursor is blinking
The blank paper is getting filled with characters
The song is half finished
And I am gazing, breathing and inhaling words.

There is some kind of divine feeling
There is some kind of unknown sensation
The night is approaching towards my nest
The night has reached my bed.
The night is sinking in my thoughts.
Half asleep, half awake, half alive
I am no more gazing
I am just scribbling, scribbling and scribbling on…

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Insane World, Insane People and Insane Love

The long silence of night is mutely fading away from the horizon. The era of darkness is gone but the insanity lingers like a broken wing. The wind of hope is approaching towards their nest, the melancholy no more torture their tired souls.

The love is growing, the insanity is rising and everything is changing in their worlds. They are getting back lost dreams, they are meeting mirth, they are caressing and being caressed by the insane world. The tale of their mundane life is flying with open arms. They are slowly feeling the soothing tide, they are no more worried, they are no more crying in dark. The pain is gone, the bond has grown, the white lilies and the maples appeared again.

Once upon a time they were parted and they never thought that they would unite again. They were far away from each other. The communication dropped, the heartbeats became low but the dream for a reunion always kept them alive. They cried in frustration, they became austere, they became stones. The light of dawn never motivated them, the festivals of colours and lights never delighted them. They walked with a heavy hearts and artificial smiles. They were so very apart.

The long silence of night mutely faded from their horizon when they met. They smiled and hugged each other. They were lost in each other. The soothing breeze followed them. Raindrops and the smell of the mother earth pampered them. The walk isn’t over. They are destined to meet. The break was just momentary but the union is so eternal. Two bodies, two souls, some moonlight and some hope.

There was lust when the creator met his delight. There was happiness when the poetess made love with her imagination. There was insanity when the artist created his masterpiece. There was bliss when the writer met his prose…

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

5 Things You Must Know To Survive in Delhi – An Outsider’s Perspective!

Delhi is colorful, vibrant and a city of joy. Delhi hardly sleeps. The capital of India is definitely the best place to live. Yet, there are some unseen and unheard facts about this place. People from various regions come here to flaunt their dreams. Some blends with its idiosyncrasies while some fails to decipher its unpredictability.

5 Things You Must Know To Survive in Delhi

People: Everyone in Delhi is running for something. Life is very fast here. Sleeping won’t help you much. Everyone is so very professional here. You aren’t anything if you don’t know much about the mechanics of life. You’ve to be shrewd to live here. Your bigheartedness mayn’t be taken in the right spirit. You should know the art of speaking and convincing people. Here everything depends upon your speaking skills. A loner has to struggle a bit to survive in this city. Yet, there are souls who will try to help you without a reason. Those are your friends. Being polite doesn’t help you much. In order to survive in Delhi, you’ve to think like Delhi.

Jobs: Undoubtedly there are enough opportunities here. Job life can be fun however you should again know the tricks to say whatever is right. A babbler may be rejected right way.  Almost 80 percent outsiders do well here. So, if you are looking for jobs, come to Delhi. You are definitely going to get one if you’ve the passion to make it big someday.

Delhi Girls: Almost every girl staying here gradually becomes beautiful because of its good air and water. Yet, you should always think twice before mingling with them. Some of them can be extremely generous while most of them will try to peek into your pockets. I am not generalizing anything here but most women in Delhi are extremely philanthropic. You are going to love them.

Nightlife: Delhi’s nightlife is pulsating and gorgeous. There are pubs, discs and various lounging areas where you can vent out your emotions. You’ll get everything here. Yet, you should choose the right place to hangout. South Delhi is definitely the safest area to indulge and party hard whole night.

Dark Secrets:
Life in Delhi may not be only colorful and happy. There are darker corners too. There are people who will try to squeeze out everything from you that include money, emotions and your ethics. Beware of brokers. Being friendly to an extent is advisable. You should never let them infringe your privacy. You should know the art of bargaining with Taxi Drivers. They are always on a prowl to make outsiders their victims. They are clever guys. Life in Delhi isn’t simple. Yet, you can never ignore its beauty at large. If you want to see and feel India, Come to Delhi. You are definitely going to take back some exhilarating memories.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Walking Stick

The tale of his life is unending
He walks through narrow gullies
He stumbles, he falls and he finally wakes up.
He is the mechanical man
His soul is freezing
His emotions are dry
He is like a dead man walking
He is sulking, he is crying
He is fighting a never-ending battle.

There are haunting shadows
There are curses of past
There is an invisible pain inside him.
He smiles mechanically,
He walks hysterically
He laughs without a reason
He cries in his loneliness.

His room is empty
His face no more exude glow
The tale of his life is unending
The shadow of loneliness lurks around him
He loves to stay in his dream
The man is cold
He is old; he is walking without a soul.

He is deserted by his family members
He is thrown out of his home.
The old man is walking
His unseen tears give him pain.
The silence haunts him
The monotony gives him agony.

His children never understood him
He is left alone in an old age home.
He carries a picture of his useless sons in his wallet
He carries all the memories
He sometimes smiles seeing them
He no more bless them
He is lonely, walking in a lonely lane.

I hope no father sees this day
I hope no mother stays hungry
I hope no parents feel lonely.
Let there be light, let there be happiness all around…

Melodies of a Lyrical Afternoon

The vivid colors of life
That soft afternoon breeze
And some untainted thoughts
Of love and freedom
Makes me smile for a while

A gentle whisper, an unsullied letter
From someone makes me so pure
The wind is happy, the sun shining bright
The melodies of a lyrical afternoon
The shower of bliss falls upon me
All those empty feelings are gone

The chapter of happiness has been reopened
Those chapters of pain has disappeared
The vivid colours of life
That soft afternoon breeze
Makes me so fine

There is a meaning in life
There is a sweet message of gladness
There are benevolent hearts
There is so much love all around

The vivid colours of life
That soft afternoon breeze
And some untainted thoughts
Of love and freedom
Makes me smile for a while

Another day, another sunrise
The beginning has arrived
The pleasant hillside
The soul inspiring tales
The floating mountains
And some dreams of hope
Makes me so alive!

Twitter Mosaic – Amazing Twitter Gadget For Your Blog

It’s time for some visual delight. Twitter Mosaic is a unique gadget that is created by Sxoop Technologies. They are trying to create art through Twitter. You can easily customize Mugs, T-shirts, Cards, Bags, Mouse pads etc. by using this application. I have created a twitter mosaic for my blog. What about you? If you love twitter than you are going to adore this wonderful gadget. So, hurry up and get the codes for your blog.

Get your twitter mosaic here.