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…

Recent Posts

Friday, April 30, 2010

Pepsi Indiblogger of the Month – My First Blogging Award

It’s raining here in Delhi tonight. It’s beautiful and serene inside and outside. It’s a night to remember, it’s not another night of pain and fright. Tonight, I am partying; tonight I am flying with delight. I am honored to receive  Pepsi Indiblogger of the Month April 2010 Title which is a big recognition for every blogger.  I must thank Renie – The founder of Indiblogger (The largest community for Indian bloggers), and all my friends from Indiblogger for voting. I got 50 votes – unbelievable! I am extremely delighted to see my name in the hall of fame, I am extremely satisfied tonight. Talking to Renie for the first time was itself an achievement for me. He was calm and sober while I was speaking endlessly through out the conversation.  This is definitely my Oscar moment…


You can get a glimpse of my Blog here: The Hall of Fame



A big Youngistaan Ka Wow for Pepsi and Indiblogger

Cheers!


Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Is Addiction To Any Nature Devastating?



Sometimes I get addicted to music, sometimes the wild desire entices my soul, sometimes I get addicted to pain and sometimes the itch to scribble delights me. There are people who loves photography, there are people who loves art, there are people who loves poetry and there people who loves life at large but in between there is a big void that keeps lurking like an enemy.

The wings of desire falls apart, the silence of midnight curses the dark. Thoughts become stale and all the cacophonies dance endlessly. The chaos within bites you, the restlessness create a storm inside you. Your face no more exude that charm, your words no more sounds bright. Numbness occupies the walls of your heart.

What happens when your passion is regarded as addiction? What happens when your thoughts are just dumped and forgotten? What happens when the cruel world gives you a reality check? Confusions and clueless ness becomes your only friend but suddenly your world brightens up, your heart opens up, your lips move in harmony and you try to walk with it. All clich├ęs of life excites me. I try to capture them with open arms; I try to decipher the impossibilities…

I know people who love to be loved and praised and I am not an exception. I know people who finds solace in a flawless conversation, I know people who only knows lust, I know people who are addicted to success. There are various types of addiction in this world and everyone gets addicted to something or the other. There is nothing wrong in it because we live only one life. The fear of getting rejected always pulls us back, the enemy within us creates threat but we still love to sail. Following your heart always may not be a good idea but I would love to fall again and again…

Is addiction to any nature devastating? I don’t think so…


What's your story?


Tuesday, April 27, 2010

A Thank You Note to Indiblogger and NDTV for Featuring My Blog



Unlike any other day, I have a different story to tell. The haze is caressing me with open arms as my blog got featured on NDTV. I must thank Indiblogger team for acknowledging this site, which is so very close to my heart. It’s like my resting space where I can easily flaunt my dreams. Today I am happy, tonight it’s going to be a night of celebration. My silence is fading away and the light from the end of that tunnel is clearly approaching towards me. I have found bliss in my balcony…


A Screen-shot of my life







You can get a glimpse of Dejavu in this video…



Monday, April 26, 2010

Submarine and Some Smokes of Ecstasy


The maroon moon is shining like never before
The air is filled with haze of harmony
There is tranquility all around
Everything is placed for that divine rejuvenation
All cigarettes are unfilled and refilled
The hole in the half filled bottle looks fine
And the bottom of that unused ball pen
Is fixed for that re-incarnation…

The air is peaceful tonight
All devotees have gathered for their evening prayer
There is a sense of pride
There is a feeling of finely tuned satisfaction
The nourishment is ready to be served
The maroon moon is shining conspicuously tonight…

The submarine is ready to sail
It is then passed one by one.
The air is different tonight
The pink haze isn’t creating chaos
All the devotees are getting soaked in desire…

Smokes, careless whispers and laughter
Is creating melodies of delight
The trance is spawned automatically…
Freedom bells are ringing beautifully
as everyone is endlessly praising the lord tonight...


Saturday, April 24, 2010

Sounds of Silence and An Urban Muse


Automatic movement of my fingers makes me fine. There are vivid sounds of silence. There are soft strokes of desire in my mind. High sounding vocabularies – no. I am not a philosopher or a writer from a Victorian age; I am just a babbler who tries to capture the melodrama and cacophonies that life creates. Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde are my Gods. I love to read them often in my silent times.

Their words give me a unique high. Words from reality, words from fiction, words from fairy tales and sounds of silence inspires me to create something original, something pure – Is it so? No. I often talk to myself; I gaze at broken walls and mannequins. I am not insane. I am just trying to sound like one…

Soft touches from angels, side glances from voluptuous damsels produce some kind of thunder and lightening. The beauty and ugliness both makes me captivated. I sit in my balcony with some music in the background and a bottle of cold water in my hand – I try to feel the breeze which is no more pleasant these days. Yet, I love the pinches of hot air that tries to bring me back to reality. I have created a beautiful around me.

The bricks and stones motivate me now. I no more crave for hills and valleys. The concrete landscape has its own charm. The urban loneliness is just a myth. The freedom that you get is utter bliss. The street lights and fast pacing cars no more creates chaos. I could hear sounds of silence. I could paint them with my words. I could immortalize them. Am I the God?  – No…


Friday, April 23, 2010

Offline Experiences, Online Presence and Bliss in My Corridor

Are you an online person like me? Do you believe in fiction? Are you in love with your computer? Are you a facebook addict? Do you play online games? Are you in touch with your friends who live thousand miles away? Are you an introvert or an ambivert like me? These are the questions that often revolves around my mind. I try to capture my offline experiences while I struggle to express myself with equal panache. Sometimes I look around my world, sometimes I try to look within. The world is changing and I am still at the same place thinking, scribbling and falling.

Sometimes poems captivate my heart and sometimes the harsh reality tortures my soul. Poetry, art, music, photography, design, love, freedom and a constant urge to travel throughout the world keep inspiring me – even in my dreams. I could see better people all around me. My words often sound monotonous. However, the color of the sky keeps changing in my galaxy. Someone rightly said that - addiction to any nature is devastating but I unconsciously become a part of every addiction available next to me.
There are no rules that I persistently follow. I am always in search of bliss and harmony in a chaotic world like this.

Facts and figures do plays an important role in my life but I am quite bad with numbers and its technicalities. Eating ice creams in a sultry night amuses me. Long drives, beer bottles and some good music seem sufficient for me. There is restlessness, there is an urge, and there are confusions and some kind of numbness in and around me. Sometimes the road looks flowery while many a time thorns and pebbles obstruct that acquired harmony. I hate to think but thoughts never leave me. I hate to be philosophical and poetic but my words love to cuddle me.  Writing every night makes me sane, dreaming every night is no more a pain. I could see vivid colours and white lilies. I could see words cruising through my balcony…


Thursday, April 22, 2010

Pencil Sketch – An Incomplete Story

Every morning, every night, everyday, he tries something to doodle. He craves to transform his sketch into life. He tries to speak through his black and white colors. The blank paper loves to flaunt his art. He holds the pencil with sheer passion and looks at the blue moon with utter delight. He imagines life beyond life; he tries to draw shades of pain and laughter. He rubs his creation to give a unique feel. He creates images of lust and desire. Raindrops and lightning inspires him to fill the blank paper with some life. He crafts characters and emotions with panache.

Every morning, every night, everyday second, his thoughts reverberates around the pencil and paper of art. He plays with various hues; he touches every aspect of his art softly. He travels through the landscapes; he makes love with his characters in harmony. His world is colourful as he knows the art of transforming dullness into vivid imageries. His avid taste for beauty maketh his existence.

Suddenly everything changes in his horizon, he finds continues unevenness in his kingdom. He struggles to make a living, he stays in a dilapidated apartment and unexpectedly he loses all the powers to doodle and express. His HB pencil no more moves flawlessly, his art paper no more craves to flaunt his creativity. The end is near, the fall is certain. His yearnings for creating a masterpiece still linger like a broken dream …

After 10 years….


He is a successful man now who lives in a posh apartment and drives swanky cars. He no more sketches laughter and pain but he makes skyscrapers and flyovers. Sometimes in his silent moments, he tries to feel the beauty of his erstwhile sketches, which he no more sees in his geometrical lines… 


Wednesday, April 21, 2010

My Tribute To Indiblogger

The sky looks beautiful tonight, the waves are cuddling me with delight and the whims and fancies of a weird blogger is blossoming like never before. I could see the stunning images of clouds lurking in my balcony. I could smell the tempting fragrance of cheap liquor.  I could fly like the mocking bird again without my wings. My blogging experience is getting bigger and better with each passing day and the chaos and disharmony is no more jamming my way.  The path looks flawless and my dreams are no more hushed like a fading shadow. The wind of change is prevailing everywhere and the tide is enticing me to scribble voraciously. The world looks finer, it looks much closer and my weird thoughts are no more dumped.



Indiblogger is my paradise, Indiblogger is my kind of place. I have seen, written and felt a change within me after joining this community of hope where the grass is always green. I am no more a narcissist, I am no more a wannabe, and I am just an avid fantasist who somehow manages to capture his dreams with words and fantasies. Indiblogger gave me a reason to smile today. It gave me a beautiful present called Indirank. I am honoured and happy to see the rise in my statistics. The landscape of blogging in India is growing like never before. All writers are getting gorgeous platform to flaunt and execute their muted dreams. Blogging detoxifies your heart and mind. It lets you decipher the unknown humane world with panache.
         
Gone are the days of silent scribbling, gone are the days of an invisible existence. It’s time to socialize and pamper your writing skills. Sharing of information is sheer bliss. Every information leads to more information and the exchange eventually brightens your dark horizon. There are good, bad and ugly truths in this world but there is nothing like the freedom of expression. So, let’s express ourselves with flamboyance, let’s bring the whole universe to our blogging space. Let’s there be Oscar and grammy for the best bloggers. Let there be sunshine and moonlight together all around…


Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Fake Smiles, Mechanical Hearts and a Candle in the Wind

There is a haunting lullaby in the air, there is unevenness all around, and there are those fake smiles of  living mannequins lurking in the dark. The vodka bottle looks bigger; the smokes make me quiver as the insanity is taken over. The butterflies in the closet are flying without synchronization and then there are some open desires of a melancholic soul. There is no sadness, there is no happiness either. Life is playing a unique ballet of desire…

The street lamps are staring ruthlessly at me, the inevitable boredom is cursing my existence. The ugliness is increasing outside and within and I am moving like a broken dream. Life isn’t bad, life isn’t so dark either but I am missing the fragrance of my yesteryears. Struggling to scribble - the ink is spreading over. My words are no more flawless, my thoughts are getting suffocated.

My fake smile is turning plastic and my heart is no more throbbing for that divine bliss. The candle in the wind is waning again; the benevolent soloist is missing.  I am inhaling drops of pain and seeing no dreams these days. The dryness in my balcony tortures me. The staircase looks so very ugly. I am walking just like the mechanical man. 

The posters of dead poets and singers are still hanging lifelessly and I am gazing at them with a divine admiration.  My thoughts are stale but my feelings are still the same. I am struggling, falling and rising again. The waves aren’t always with me but the lighthouse constantly motivates me. I am no more waiting for the sunshine, I am no more waiting for that comforting moonlight but I do crave for some real smiles to brighten the muted corner of my heart…


Monday, April 19, 2010

Sand Animation

 The language of art knows no boundaries. See this captivating video for rejuvenating your love for art. I am deeply touched by this sand animation.




Artist – Kseniya Simonova

Ukraine’s Got Talent 2009 Winner

Courtesy: Making Me


Thursday, April 15, 2010

A Whiff of Tranquil Breeze in My Balcony

Suddenly everything is changing in and around me. The aroma of rosemary is captivating me. The symphony of life is bestowing some sweet pleasure. I am flying again in the deep blue sky and the angels of bliss accompanying my tired soul. The trance is increasing but this time it resembles some old remembrance. The agonies of my heart are fading slowly and the bright light of desire is descending slowly and slowly. Nights are becoming more lyrical now and the cuckoos are singing like a soulful delight. Thoughts of melancholy are no more sailing. The wind of change is creating a unique melody in itself.

My words are getting more pleasurable. My smile is getting broader and bigger with each passing day. I am no more residing in a hut full of pain; I am dwelling in a place filled with tranquility. The sky looks cleaner; the wind doesn’t make me restless now. The detachment is waning slowly; I am no more craving for that divine joyous evening. It’s coming to me naturally. The whiff of tranquil breeze is creating a beautiful storm in my balcony.


My playlist is different now, my room no more looks messy and my heart throbs with glory. I love to whistle every now and then, I am walking in a road full of velvety meadow. The world is changing for good or I am transforming with the changing world? The white lilies are no more dying in disharmony, the maple leaves are swaying around me noiselessly. There are raindrops without that frightening thunder. They are pampering the dryness within for good. There are good times, there are bad times and then there are those blissful eras when you just feel happy without a valid reason. The looking glass is praising the beauty without any hypocrisy. The cacophony is mutely vanishing into oblivion…


Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Long Rides, Guitar and Memories of Yesteryears

Bon Jovi, Jim Morrison, Pink Floyd, Metallica and some floating memories always creates a unique vibration in my living room. Those songs of past, those long guitar sessions, those midnight long rides and those unforgettable parties with my friends and loved ones exude a different kind of fragrance in the air.  The breeze is friendly tonight and I can feel all the memories of yesteryears caressing and pampering me without that perpetual chaos. The Satan is sleeping tonight and the garden is almost blooming with flowers. The cacophony of life is absent and the watchman isn’t asleep tonight. Tonight the stars are shining bright.

The sky is full of some shining stars. They are giggling and whispering to each other in delight. The darkness is gone for a while. The emptiness is no more reverberating all around. The castle of hope is again visible in my lonely kingdom. The era of pain is fading away and sunshine is peeping inside my door. Memories revisiting me, I am feeling a genuine pleasure inside my soul. My caged heart has broken all its shackles and finally flying with freedom. Tonight the breeze is friendly, tonight I am not lonely.

I am recovering from the pangs of narcissism. I am becoming humane from an invalid mannequin.  The white dust is cleared and there are no more restless smokes flying in my silent corner. The boredom is turning into an evening delight. The monotony of life is creating a unique music of desire. Long rides, guitar and those memories of yesteryears are inspiring me to scribble those unheard songs of my yore.

Tonight, I am not lonely, tonight I am not sulking, and tonight I am just flying and smiling. The glass of hemlock isn’t there but still I could hear the nightingales loud and clear. Tonight I have escaped from the harsh realities of life; tonight I have acquired a state of utter bliss…

Here’s my entry for Blogadda’s Friendship Day Contest sponsored by Pringoo.com 


Sunday, April 11, 2010

White Dust – The Hunger and Agony of an Urban Man



Smokes swaying like a devil, the dim lights are caressing his soul and he is dancing without a valid reason. He is trying to peep noiselessly into his silently throbbing heart. The air is mute tonight; the calling bell is hardly ringing and the boredom is creating a unique sensation. Some filthy thoughts are galloping like hungry horses in his kingdom. The urge for an ecstasy is calling him. He is swaying like smokes, he is feeling the fragrance of his ex lady, and he is grinning without a motivation…

The bright city lights annoys him, the silence of midnight gives him hope. He finds bliss in some sort of detachment; he is the urban man with a frozen soul. He is hungry, he is agonized but still he is alive. He is feeling the unknown. He walks in a greasy road of desire, he juggles between his thoughts. He sometimes loses all his words. The numbness makes him restless and the narcissism becomes his only friend. He gazes silently, he observes from a distance and he stays calm most of the time. Sometimes his self image makes him happy while many a times the ugliness of his face takes away all his late night charm. 

He tries to pamper himself to look like a prince. He wears no perfume. He loves the smell of his sweat; he loves his watery auburn eyes. Scribbling about nothing motivates him. There are good and bad times, there are happiness and melancholy and then there are the others. The whim and fancies of an urban man is typically same but sometimes the forms differ from one another. There are various modes of expression. Some prefer white dust while the others love the smokes…




Friday, April 09, 2010

The Tyranny of a Frozen Heart


What happens when insanity dictates your kingdom? What happens when your blank face amuses nobody? What happens when the cloud looks so uneasy? What happens when your frozen heart feels nothing – just nothing at all? The chaos within keeps annoying you – life troubles you and your smiles become sour…

Raindrops look like acid and the blazing sun burns you completely. You become a mannequin with an invalid expression. You keep walking with the current – struggling, falling and struggling. Your waning glory beckons you for a while; you hate to admire your rock-strewn existence. The old apartment looks like a gothic fortress. The silence no more looks pleasant.

The uproar within creates mayhem. You lose everything – your feelings evaporate, and you become an insane soul. People gawk at you endlessly; the mob often annoys your smouldering survival. Melancholy occupies your lonely world and you are no more heard by anybody. You are detached and dethroned. The wires are missing, the smile is lost. There’s only a frozen heart with a decaying body…

The world all of a sudden moves away from you, the isolation grips you and you become dry – drought in your emotions exude through your pen. The words look mundane. Confusions and dilemmas become so conspicuous that you lose all your humane powers. Pain exaggerates your solitude and the sinking boat endlessly craves for the shore.

The daylight is no more golden, the moonlight is no more silvery. The pine trees and the maple leave no more greet you cheerfully. The white lilies are dying in disharmony. The madness is mounting with each passing day and his muddled brain rotting in misery. The diluted planet is creating a matchless agony. The sweet symphonies of life are fading into oblivion. The tyranny of the frozen heart is killing him slowly, slowly and slowly…


Monday, April 05, 2010

The Hidden Enemy

Confused between reality and fiction, struggling to find my way through dungeons, there's no hope, there's no chance, there's only some beautiful words and some broken wings of desire. In a world so big, people like me get easily sidelined. The reality gives me a killing expression.

I dwell in a hut that's full of cactus and thorns. The owls disturb me and the beetles annoy my sleep. I hate to wake up but I never sleep. I am no philosopher, I am no poet, I am just another creature who loves to gaze. Whenever I encounter reality, I become invisible, whenever I reach those realms of fantasy, I become alive.


I have acquired a state which may not be easy to break. My freezing heart sound mundane, but the echoes within creates a unique trance. I am no thinker, I am no philosopher, and I am just an unused tissue paper. I am not self obsessed, I am not hungry, and I am just an avid fantasist who loves to travel through the realms of reality and fantasy.

There’s always a way. There’s always a second chance. There’s always a meaning. The cacophony causes headache. The struggle no more looks fine. The wait mayn’t be easy. Whenever my heart throbs higher, I witness a level of dissatisfaction within me. I feel that something is happening wrong in and around me. Whenever, happiness visits me, I become insecure. I try to run from my shadow. Every night is different for me. Sometimes my dreams seduce me and sometimes they shake me up. Every day is a new day, every night is different. I have tried to follow this dictum throughout my existence.

The eternal sunshine may be waiting to greet me; the beauty of divinity may be waiting to hug me, but the turmoil inside is never ready to leave me. There are cravings, there are musings and there is a hidden enemy inside me, who keeps pulling me. I am no writer, I am no poet, but I am surely a thinker whose thoughts are so unstable. Drifting, falling and rising from my ashes. Swallowing and inhaling light and darkness, I am moving ahead with a frozen heart that feels everything but can’t react….


Youngistaan Ka WOW!


Question


If you were the game master, what challenge would you like to throw to Ranbir?




That’s simple – I would like Ranbir to grab the Pepsi bottle without using his body parts – that’s simple, that’s fun, that isn’t easy. I bet he can do it…


I have the answer… :)



Waiting for your wacky comments...



Some lines for my friends


Youngistaan Ka Wow

the game is wow
the song is wow
the name is wow
so let's begin the game with a simple but passionate wow...
Lets sing and glorify Wow!
So, what you are waiting for…
Just leave your comments now :)







Good news!

I am happy to inform my friends that my nomination for

IndiBlogger of The Month April 2010, Youngistaan Ka WOW! Contest has been approved.
Please Vote for me and do comment on my blog post  “Youngistaan Ka WOW”.
I am going to add all your beautiful blogs and names in this post as a mark of respect.
So, let’s say WoW – Loud and Clear!



While commenting you can also leave the url of your facebook/twitter profile in case you don’t have a blog. Thank you 


Sunday, April 04, 2010

Beautiful Dream




The aisle is green, full of scattered maple leaves
The moment is devoid of sin
The eternity is exuding soothing symphonies
The droplets of desire is falling endlessly
The flash of harmony is intruding slowly
And there is a creation of hope
Stars giggling with pleasure
The Satan is away for a while
The melodies of divinity
Is creating an unexpected delight
The smooth breeze is kissing his dried lips
The galaxy looks so fine
Heaven is descending without a clamor.
The restlessness is fading,
The grief is gone…
The eternal sunshine is dancing in the air
There are drops of pampering mist all around…
The aisle is green, full of scattered maple leaves
The moment is devoid of sin
The eternity is exuding soothing symphonies
Of love, lust and desire
The whispering woods are uninterruptedly lazing around
Owls no more weeps, beetles no more buzz in despair
The melancholy is gone forever…
The aisle is green, full of scattered maple leaves
The moment is devoid of sin
The darkness of night is away for a while
The imageries of life is getting better
Metaphors, similes and those comforting words
Flying and caressing his broken heart
Tears, boredom and loneliness
have deserted him for a while…


Friday, April 02, 2010

The Flying Princess




The cloud in her kingdom is velvety
She sways like a divine fairy
She smiles in disharmony and winks without glory
Her pain touches him like a vulnerable storm
She struggles to fly and whines like a newborn
Drops of shiny teardrops slides down
She feels nothing, she walks in despair.
The soothing breeze no more makes her happy
The dullness of monotony infuriates her agony….

She is craving for that perpetual dawn
She is waiting for that beautiful morn
Her wait is becoming painful
Her smile is getting mournful…
The cloud in her kingdom is velvety
She sways like a divine fairy
She smiles in disharmony and winks without glory.

She is no more pampered by the mountains
The falling leaves annoys her soul
The dryness creates turmoil….
Her fading charm no more lights up her kingdom.
She is no more an angel
She is no more smiling
She is fading into oblivion…

I can feel her anguish; I can see her unseen tears
I wish the benevolent air makes her happy
I wish she smiles again with delight
I wish she never abandons her wings with fright
I wish she flies again like a mocking bird in the deep blue sky….


Thursday, April 01, 2010

The Rise of the Virtual World

 Linden Research, Inc


Wires connected, headphones clinging to his ears, his fingers move fluently and he tweets and updates facebook status like a Rockstar. He is the master of his thoughts; he completes blog entries without haste and plays online games like a pro… His social skills are getting bigger with each passing day. He is becoming a celebrity among celebrities.

The rise of the virtual world is giving powers to the geeks. They are no more lonely and disturbed. They have the ability to change the world with one tweet. They can fly in an open sky, they can drive the most expensive cars, and they can make love with many such avatars. The animated world has a beauty of its own. Role playing is becoming more popular through such games where you can become anyone. Secondlife is one of the most popular online games that can be extremely addictive at times. People often vent out their emotions through them. They love to transform themselves into harmless avatars. The virtual world is getting crowded with people from every sphere. It’s no only frequented by geeks now.

Social media is changing the face of the world. Almost every big organization has a facebook fan page and twitter account. The reach is high through these platforms. The isolation is fading and the change is definitely stimulating betterment. Many NGOs are receiving funds from their sites and blogs. The frequency of online marriages is getting higher. The dating sites are doing a terrific business in United States and Brazil. Long distance relationships are blossoming without fear. The creativity is in the air and everyone is finding a place here. The world no more looks bizarre and unhappy. It’s coming closer and closer. Your offline experiences are getting captured though your random scribbling. The blissful Sunday mornings get reflected through happy facebook updates. Sometimes we feel exhausted, sometimes we feel monotonous and sometimes we feel bliss here. That’s the beauty of the virtual world. It gives pleasure by default…