About Me

Well! I really can’t exactly tell u folks about myself and as people keep changing so do I. As my profession demands lots of travelling, so I get an opportunity to meet different people with different experiences, age and profession and a little bit of time for reading. So, I finally decided to pen some of these experiences and share with these with you. For me Life is a learning tool, which makes you shape yourself from each mistake. Unless you change how you are, you will always have what you have- I believe in this The Most.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

A teaser from an Young Female Debut Indian author

This is a teaser from an very Young Fellow Blogger like everyone on Blogger and WordPress, turned into an author with her debut novel Entrapped. She happens to be my friend, which I am very proud to say it aloud.

I am trying my bit to market her novel on Facebook, Twitter, Blogger as a good will gesture because i have seen her work hard for it  and liked the way she presented the story. I request everyone who reads this post to do same, if u have liked it, like the way I did. I bet, while reading this Story, you will get a feeling not less than what you have got while reading Harry Potter.

She happens to be none other than Sneha Kedar. Meet her through the following links

Sneha Kedar
Paranormal-Fantasy Lovers
Sneha Kedar-Facebook

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Chapter 2: Unusual Night

It was twelve o’ clock at night, when the restaurants, theaters and cafés close their doors and their patrons sent to the street after working for an hour more than usual on a weekend night, with the traffic still heavy on the roads, with the cars zipping and occasional cruising of the police patrolling cars with their sirens on.

The night was getting cooler with the freezing breeze and the snow was getting harder. The night seemed completely changing from what it was two hours back with no star shinning in the sky, though it wasn’t cloudy. There was silence looming everywhere, with no noise of the zipping cars and the lights which have gone down completely, increasing the feel of horror. This was unusual at this time of the year, where the weather generally is much hotter.

A six foot, two inch tall tired and lazy, sun burned face and auburn hair, brown eyes with merry and arrogant; a black t-shirt, mustard-coloured breeches; sleeping and hands clutched to the blanket on the couch like bolls of cotton. The cool air engulfed the whole room flown through the open window. The room was pitching dark, with no hint of light coming of anywhere. The sudden change in the climate had no effect on him till the pitch had gone to a highest volume set on the phone. The drowsy effect left him with no energy to move a little forward and look at who was calling. He again slept, thinking it as a nightmare. Once again the phone rang; this time the volume was much higher than earlier.

He woke up, cursing the person who has called him at this time of the night and squints on to his phone’s display, unable to read the characters in his drowsy state. He removed his blanket a little and suddenly felt a cold air gripping his body with chillness, which almost froze him. Without caring much about who has actually called, he wrapped the blanket around the body, with the lower part of the blanket getting dragged onto the floor, started to limp towards the open window; kicking and stamping everything which came on his way, with his half closed eyes.

His eyes brightens up, upon meeting the peculiar black sky, while stretching his hands to close the open window, to a unusual sky with neither the stars nor the moon nor it had signs of being cloudy and darkness has engulfed the whole city. While closing the window he found two unusual things with the phone and the open window, which was set on silent and closed the window before sleeping. After, much thought while walking back to his couch and the phone still ringing in a high pitch, he felt he has never done these before he slept and maybe it was yesterday or the day before.

Falls onto the couch lazily, fully tired; back to sleep with hands clutched back to his blanket. Woke up suddenly, to a sense of change with the window open again and the phone again ringing, his suspicion grew with fear and horror. He crushed his face deep into the smooth fabric of the couch; his hands to his chest and back to sleep, when his eyes reluctantly, much to his fear met the Clichéd numbers on display.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Chapter 1: Messy Room

    A pile of discarded clothes and blankets covered in a heap, pouring out from the top of an unmade bed to the floor, which looked thou, it has never been cleaned.  The Triclinium was full with chocolate wrappers, scraps of the half eaten food, a few empty foster beer cans, ashtray flooded with cigarette buds and few empty cigarette packets. The couch on the right side of the room is moderately big enough, for one person to stay. The shoes and socks were lying all over the place were never given a proper place and the dustbin at the center of the room.

   A heavy layer of brownish-coloured dust covered the fully open books and magazines , which litter haphazardly on the table, the newspaper which started to turn yellow with exposure of lignin to air and sunlight, it’s one half suspended, was holding on under one of the books, and the other half clinging on towards the floor.

   The bed and the couch lie on the opposite sides of the room, with the teapoy just a few feet away from the couch, a 15.4” apple laptop, with its symbol still glowing and a scribbling pad beside it, had a pen resting on it, the ear phones still playing some kind music, a phone and a wallet, it looks thou this was the cleanest part of the whole room.

  To the right of the couch lies a window, towards the east, giving you a magnificent view of the city from a 21th floor of a 30 storied building. The Cupboard to the left of the bed and to the side of the door had books, which looked like they have never been opened; CD Case; a pile of unwashed clothes. The walls were fully covered with wall posters of different sizes, contents, varying from cars, bikes to few beautiful girls.

   Any Guest, would perhaps describes it as a Bachelor’s Room,typically messy, shabby and untidy. It also means that the person staying in here, has got much better work to do, instead of cleaning the room, which won’t stay clean for more than a day. Transition into adolescence is a time for change, which in stings to be independent, moving away from the family and close to friends, looking around the world, exploring new things. It is that time of the life, you want things to be the way to want, room to be the way to want it to be and dictate life in your own terms and conditions but this subconscious change into rebellion is often a threatening personality. The fires of rebellious youth will splutter and fizzle, and it will all come right in the end.

Sunday, March 13, 2011


The colour of blood remains same for an evil and a good doer.

The colour of your hair turns black to grey 
with the increase in wisdom.

The appetite decreases both with a good 
and bad meal.

Success depends on your failure.

I don’t get taller if I climb up the ladder.

Apologise has to come from your heart, but not
to show your wisdom

Everyone gets hurt from the love they expect.

Dolorous is an act of hopelessness

Being Obsequious is being a prostitute.

Eyes: a reason to know without speaking.

If you are late once, you will be late forever.

Writing is an art, which comes out from your heart.

Truth lies in the heart and the lies in the brain.

Complacency is not about the confidence that you can do, but it is a tool which will lead you to a disaster.

Wealth is about showing how powerful you are, which is of no use.

Marriage is a magic in itself.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Cupid Strikes

Travelling from my home to my workplace listening to music from Boyzone, Beyonce or Justin Bieber and few others, and zipping through the roads looking for the beautiful girls on the either side of the roads, is my daily abode.

There are many girls who travel along with me on the roads, some are very attractive with their attire, some beautiful, some show to be beautiful and few are normal. Ever since I have grown up, I always felt for girls who can make or show better expressions. 

Yesterday, while I was on my routine, there was this girl, who zipped past through me and I hate this the most. With lots of the ego and anger, I increased the speed of my bike to equal hers, making me halt beside her at the signal. The eagerness to know, who she is, made me look at her, while she was looking at the reading of her bike.

 My weird glances towards her, made her look towards me and this is when my eyes meet hers. I was spell bound by the way she was and thought, “God has given her so beautiful eyes and that so big”, with the best part of her grey eyes was the liner, making eyes look innocent. The ego, the anger and the eager turned into a light in my eyes and delight in my gaze, with a smile on my face.  

I was looking at her black silky hair, which was flying with the air, obstructing me to watch her flair. She tired to adjust her hair, watching me doing it for her, bringing in a tingle of smile on her juicy, glossy wet lips. I was not aware of the signal which turned green while looking at her mole on her cheeks, which was cute, while she was trying to start to start her bike with many unsuccessful attempts, with the horns increasing behind both of us.

 Her bike started and I was still standing and watching her moving, making me move. I was watching her from behind into in order to get close to her; I observed her attire which was flawless, showing her built. I was looking at her through her rear mirror and she was looking at me through the same and moistening her lips. I was trying to maintain the same distance in order to watch her through the mirror, so that I can make sure she knows I like her. Watching her like this had an unknown excitement in me, but suddenly she had passed through the diversion road making me look at her for last time till Date.