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Hello guys,
   All my further articles will be readable in my new blog. My new blog link is www.ilovepenningdown.wordpress.com

My Small Room on the Roof

 

      
      
        I was staring out at the peaceful night. There were sounds down there in the streets, but I was away from it. I was distant from the noise and horns of the moving vehicles, because I was sitting in the thirteenth floor of my building. I am no rich guy, I never have been. I have always belonged to the category of people who find something good in the massively bad. I have been an optimist, sometimes, severely-optimist. The scene that I was looking at was nothing new to me. I was admiring the beauty of the night. I felt fortunate to see the lights of houses, halls, cathedrals, temples etc. Some of these lights shimmer, some glow constantly, but they all shine, you know! And I find happiness in that.
       It has been four years that I have lived in this city, my small room on the roof. Just four years and my life has taken a full U-turn ever since I started staying here. I was a boring personality. I had always been this. And I had loved being in this state.Today I am active, volatile and a vibrant being. I was not destined to be this but circumstances turned me into such a creature. In these four years, I have come across all kinds of emotions, problems and hurdles. I have solved them with my skills and past experiences. In the these four years, I have completed my graduation , got into and got done with my first job and finally found another one. This city has taught me a lot! It has given me that affection. and  a sense of responsibility that I assumed, I would never be able to execute. I have had friends and foes, well wishers and otherwise. I have been called names by both good and bad men from whom I least expected. I have gotten into fights for people who were close to me. I have fallen, I have risen and I have dusted myself to continue being a part of this rat-race. I have been loved by people who trust me and find hope in me. This city has given me a lot. It has given me something that I can never ever return it. 
       My familiarity to this city is to such an extent that even if now I intend to find out that in which direction is the wind blowing, I can guess it by the time of the clock. While I was thinking all this, I was sitting in a wooden chair. The only furniture of my room. When did I fall asleep, I really didn't know and never got interested. For this action of mine was an everyday thing- every night I would sit in my wooden chair, on the roof, admire the beauty of the almost-entire city that is view able from my roof top, smoke a cigar and relax there and sink into sleep at a time quite unknown to me.  

Life Buzz (Podcast)

This is piece of work I did for my classroom assignment. 

Inspirational video (Self made)

In times of crisis, all need motivation, this clip gives precisely that =) Hope you like it. 

My DEAD FRIEND

[FICTIONAL SETUP: Antony crying seeing the dead body of Julius(Caesar). He wails and poeticizes)

The blinking stars

The vast sky

Is calling thy name, my friend

You have fallen asleep

So deep, So quietly

That even the silence appears noisy.

To my highly awakened heart.

The heavenly voice is growing louder

O my friend! Why you not waking up?

Even the heavenly lips too dried calling your name

Caesar! Caesar! calling you time and again.

Your body is not making a move

Your eyes don’t open to watch me now

Your voice is not audible still

I still don’t know, I still yearn how.

My friend is not waking up

My friend has still not woken up…

JUST NOT ONE ANOTHER!

A missing boy in the midst of the crowd… What can be more surprisingly baffling for a father who has just picked up the daily newspaper for the purpose of casual reading? And there he observes the picture of his son- the only son who he had been hunting for the past one year. Finding no trace of him, he had almost given up.

His son is only 12 years old, hardly capable of taking care of himself. He is seen amongst all the cricket lovers present in the Wankhede Stadium.

Now, some interesting facts:

The missing boy was an ardent lover of cricket. His presence quite predictable there but who paid for him to get through the entrance for the match? He has been missing and can’t afford to protect and preserve himself for months.

The missing boy suffers from the habit of sucking his thumb. In the picture, he is viewed with the same behavior.

The missing boy belongs to a farmer’s family of Rajasthan. How could he travel to all the way from there to Bengaluru? Another, unanswered question.

As I thought and thought I couldn’t familiarize myself with this strange circumstance. It not only brought curiosity in the mind of mine but amongst my colleagues too. This is not a fiction. It is a story I encountered in my internship.   

NARRATIVE FROM A FOREIGNER (non-fiction)

With the arrival in the new country, I was being greeted by some of the people I hardly knew. But they welcomed me with a board of my name. Within hours, my life had undergone a drastic change. This change was good. In a new culture, tradition I had to cope up. I had to understand these people of the place. This was no easy task. Socializing in a personally recognized land is no hard job but when you enter a new place, it's as much difficult. Language can turn as a barrier, and so it was in my case too. Gestures was something  I was completely relying on. Every now on then I just asked myself "What could this mean?". But before that, a hundred more gestures followed. I knew, now, after this entire journey, I would be a new man, a far more experienced person. People say education rules the day, but when you go out and turn yourself  "street smart", you have not only recognized the knowledge. but experienced it too. You don't only "meet" people, but you get to know them, you try to understand them. What can be more complicated than a set of "people" with however-much-you-try-to-comprehend but their unpredictable emotions come into the picture?!

The months that followed was something I could and I never can forget. I met some of the most wonderful, or as Indians call "the bestest" people. I met people who changed my perceptions, my beliefs and my thoughts. To grasp all of it into a single idea will not only be difficult but degrading. With this I end my train of thought.