tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2228982761555072272012-02-16T21:06:00.524+05:30Tormenting agony makes me shout, I find myself wounded and cut, I seek not sanctury but, My peace lies in bleeding it out... -In process of moving this to tumblr- That's exactly what am here for.Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.comBlogger231100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-26549982847870249142010-06-13T00:56:00.003+05:302010-06-13T01:06:20.218+05:30<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/TBPg1rVJWfI/AAAAAAAAA3M/0Fp7KnHYzIM/s1600/a1.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/TBPg1rVJWfI/AAAAAAAAA3M/0Fp7KnHYzIM/s400/a1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481972384209132018" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:130%;">She stood at the precipice, unsure and uncertain. He stood on the other side waiting patiently, his hand outstretched. </span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The precipice was deep, its walls steep and daunting. But it wasn’t that wide, jumping over it would be tough but manageable. She looked over her shoulder, a seemingly happy and content world. She looked at the other side, a mist hung there, dark and murky. But he was there with promise of life as it is meant to be. Contentment and fulfillment in every moment.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"> </v:formulas> <v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"> <o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"> </v:shapetype><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_0" spid="_x0000_s1026" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="a1.jpg" style="'position:absolute;margin-left:309.35pt;margin-top:18pt;" wrapcoords="-201 0 -201 21357 21513 21357 21513 0 -201 0"> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\Veron\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.jpg" title="a1"> <w:wrap type="tight"> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size:130%;">Would she make the leap of faith?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">She took a deep breath and introspected. She had herself almost convinced that her world was complete and safe. But deep down, she knew that beneath the sham of a busy life and feigned euphoria was a compromise. A compromise on her happiness and the life she silently coveted and aspired for.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">[<i style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);">Whom are we kidding?! Don’t we all paint a picture-perfect illusion of perfection!?</span></i></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);font-size:130%;" >]<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">She did too. And it stood just across on the other side of the crevice.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Would she make the leap of faith?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Being a realist she knew nothing is perfect. If she made the jump, the other side would be most of the things she’d ever wanted but not all. Exactly what all, she could only guess at being on the opposite side. What she had was a safe and easy option, “<i style=""><span style="color:red;">things here are okay!</span>” </i>she reminded herself, “<i style=""><span style="color:red;">but just okay, not great when they could be</span>” </i>chipped in her subconscious. “<i style=""><span style="color:red;">Hush hush</span>” </i>she chided herself and thought on.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Would she make the leap of faith?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">You get some, you lose some. She knew that to gain all that stood just a jump away, she’d have to let go off her compromise and all those linked with it. She was afraid and uncertain. The mist on the other side was scary; but it wasn’t the fear of the unknown that stayed her feet rather it was her own acceptance of the fact that she put herself over all. [<i style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);">Curious, indeed, are the follies of the pure</span></i>]</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Would she make the leap of faith?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">She felt like Pandora but with a difference. She could choose not to open the box and force herself into an illusion of contentment or open the box and brace for her world to turn topsy-turvy. For along with great joys there would be pain but he’d promised to be there through it all, always un-deterring.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“<i style=""><span style="color:red;">Isn’t inaction a crime?!</span>” </i>her subconscious asked. “<i style=""><span style="color:red;">But what do I do, what is right?</span>” </i>she asked, ”<i style=""><span style="color:red;">The answer lies with your heart</span>” </i>came the reply “<i style=""><span style="color:red;">Just open up to it without fear and you’ll feel it</span>”</i>. She took a deep breath and smiled. She knew.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);font-size:130%;" >What was wrong, what was right,<o:p></o:p><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);font-size:130%;" >The compromise strong or the promise bright,<o:p></o:p><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);font-size:130%;" >The risks and the choice were hers to take,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);font-size:130%;" >Would she make the leap of faith?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 176, 80);font-size:130%;" ><br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-2654998284787024914?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-44620754411335970142010-02-12T00:52:00.006+05:302010-02-12T01:27:03.298+05:30<a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S3RaFciIGnI/AAAAAAAAA0w/kiC_krIr7iM/s1600-h/400261505_bb454d0d0e.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S3RaFciIGnI/AAAAAAAAA0w/kiC_krIr7iM/s320/400261505_bb454d0d0e.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437069699748207218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: left;font-family:'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif;font-size:11;" ><span style="font-size:180%;">Kal ek savera hai, jis tak jaana hai,</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: left;font-family:'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif;font-size:11;" ><span style="font-size:180%;">Raasta andhera hai, lekin paar to paana hai,</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: left;font-family:'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif;font-size:11;" ><span style="font-size:180%;">Mod hai ye ajeeb kash-m-kash ka,</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: left;font-family:'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif;font-size:11;" ><span style="font-size:180%;">Lekin kashti ko kinare tak to pahunchana hai.</span></span></span></span><br /></div><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); text-align: left;font-family:'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif;font-size:11;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" ><br />Dedicated to the miseries that I see sown deep in those few whom I love deeply. Keep faith, this is life and remember, there shall always be a few who care. Inspiration, as so many times before, came from Varunda.</span><br /></span></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-4462075441133597014?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-38127500235752471082010-02-01T08:18:00.002+05:302010-02-01T08:29:25.061+05:30<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S2ZBQTsjRTI/AAAAAAAAA0o/vvvbHJa_huA/s1600-h/2278878493_12edd9245f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S2ZBQTsjRTI/AAAAAAAAA0o/vvvbHJa_huA/s320/2278878493_12edd9245f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433101748889929010" border="0" /></a>Kwahish hai jeene ki, paane ki, muskurane ki,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Aarzoo hai tujhko baahon me thaamne ki,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Lafzon me baya(n) nahi ho pati kahani meri,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Tu sahi na ho chahe, maanta hu agar har baat teri,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Ishq me agar khud ko karta jaa raha hu fanaa,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Bin ummeed ke bhi dil me agar bachi hai ek tamanna,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Ek saa(n)s bhi lu to aaye agar teri khushboo,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Tujhko paane ke liye aaj agar badalna chahu,<br />To kya main galat hu,<br />Batao, kya main galat hu?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-3812750023575247108?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-21612376043387446742010-01-09T23:06:00.003+05:302010-01-09T23:24:18.326+05:30<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S0jCNmMSx1I/AAAAAAAAA0A/OlMEy3lImls/s1600-h/smoking-eye.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S0jCNmMSx1I/AAAAAAAAA0A/OlMEy3lImls/s200/smoking-eye.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424799290013960018" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The room is foggy and the lights are dim,<br />And we brood about our darkest desires and eccentric whims,<br />Whom we lust and whom we love share in between a thin line,<br />Who I want but who, really, is mine,<br />The one we love, the only one,<br />Is not in our fate and the light is gone,<br />From our eyes and our soul is sundered,<br />But a mask we keep and the pain is under,<br />For us and only us...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-2161237604338744674?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-52403588955197206532010-01-07T10:53:00.002+05:302010-01-07T11:12:10.837+05:30<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S0V0AG0KFXI/AAAAAAAAAzw/zZhDEEwjW_g/s1600-h/smokeroom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/S0V0AG0KFXI/AAAAAAAAAzw/zZhDEEwjW_g/s400/smokeroom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423868871415829874" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><br />I</span> am glad for those foggy nights,<br />And those dim lights,<br />When I felt your soft touch beside me,<br />Where you and I in those eccentric moments became we,<br />When I felt every single one of those unspoken words,<br />That you and I've said so many times in my dreams of another realm,<br />But that shall never become reality,<br />Even I do not wish for it as you already seem so happy,<br />In your dreams for they seem so real,<br />But in mine you remain the Alice of my wonderland,<br />So surreal.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Prologue:</span><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /><br />Now </span>I fret again for the smoky hues,<br />For I am glad for those smoky nights,<br />And those dim lights,<br />For there again you shall be,<br />With those eccentric moments, mine and waiting just for me...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-5240358895519720653?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-4439833283976774122010-01-01T09:51:00.003+05:302010-01-01T10:39:39.425+05:30<span id="profile_status"><span id="status_text"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >0 1 . 0 1 . 2 0 1 0</span><br /><br />In the burlesque called life, morons hoot, nitwits kiss n cry - <span style="font-weight: bold;">HAPPY NEW YR! 2010's here</span>...but nothing's really new, its the same sham, the same fake realm, creation of our own hypocrisy...just another dream from which we do not want to wake up for we fear the reality so much we just ignore it...it's the same, everyone's the same...the love, the hate, the joy, the pain, the wishes, their disappearances, the link-ups, the heart-breaks, the wars, the peace-talks, their failings...and yet we like to believe that a better tomorrow exists and we run arms wide towards it!<br />What's the use, I simply ask? Why are we still afraid of the reality? I do not ask you to stop partying. But stop partying for 2010 and hopes of a better tomorrow! <span style="font-weight: bold;">Party</span> all you can, if you like to party, because YOU like to party and no other reason...be yourself and truly be so...a million things we may not like, acceptable for we are only human...then live with our dislikes, appreciate their existence nonetheless instead of calling anything remotely unacceptable as '<span style="font-style: italic;">lame</span>'...trust me, that word is used way too much by one and all!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Change</span> but because you want to, choose your own idols, do not blindly follow others...learn to be humans and not sheep...following the herd never helps, look how correct people were about '<span style="font-style: italic;">Tiger Woods</span>'!<br />This is no moral science lesson and I'm definitely no teacher/preacher, am just another regular guy who does follow his heart and is not afraid to be different, the question is- are you?!? But then if you really followed what I wanted to say, you shall not bother about my ramblings...so enjoy to the fullest, every moment while it still lasts, the burlesque called life.....</span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-443983328397677412?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-88294951919784748292009-12-29T10:44:00.004+05:302009-12-29T10:49:12.655+05:30<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lifehack.org/wp-content/files/2007/12/20071224-walking-alone-in-the-snow.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 380px; height: 285px;" src="http://www.lifehack.org/wp-content/files/2007/12/20071224-walking-alone-in-the-snow.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>The cold December air cuts in, as my lower lip bleeds,</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I’m alone and shivering, looking at my life sift in vain,</p><p class="MsoNormal">I’m in agony, my soul is sundered,</p><p class="MsoNormal">Yet all I realize is I find peace in all the pain.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I most definitely expect my mentor and my most regular reader to instantly come up with the words “Melancholy... Not again!” <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>But this is not just another piece of poetry, this is a fact that I've come to terms with in the past few days. And queerly, I’m not even bothered by it. I don’t give a shit. I don’t care. My life’s a living hell and I love it.</o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-8829495191978474829?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-35919814523842372582009-11-16T17:17:00.003+05:302009-11-16T17:23:02.118+05:30<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/4616018/Time1_Full.jpg"></a><div>This brood here again is true to my character, filled with melancholy. As with despair, I do not like to '<i>dilly dally' </i>hence I shall delve straight into stopped time.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/4616018/Time1_Full.jpg"><img src="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/4616018/Time1_Full.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 388px; height: 309px; " /></a><br /></div><div>When time came to a standstill,</div><div>When I couldn't even move even with my will,</div><div>My world, so shattered, seemed to regroup,</div><div>Till I realized I am not the hunter but the kill.</div><div><br /></div><div>Truly life's never been so tough,</div><div>Whenever I found joy, life gave me a cuff,</div><div>A moment of peace, a person to trust,</div><div>Its all i want, I do not bluff.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life's a party, with fun the booze,</div><div>If you lose your fear, it will seem like a cruise,</div><div>Love's the cradle which can be your shield,</div><div>But one wrong move and all you'll lose.</div><div><br /></div><div>I cringe, I shout, I try to turn away,</div><div>Hoping against hope that the pain wouldn't hold sway,</div><div>But I am in agony, long lost and alone,</div><div>I have the goal in sight but don't know the way.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-3591981452384237258?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-37187441071468846702009-11-13T07:06:00.004+05:302009-11-13T07:19:34.133+05:30<div>I do not know why today of all the days I decided to post this. This wasn't something I had in mind when I took up the pen to write a post. But I let the pen flow and this came out. Death, in its purest sense is perhaps a new beginning, is a beautiful entity which everyone hates. I do not! For I believe that the soul is eternal and the person lost is not gone. They are here, always with us. Cynical as they may seem, these are my views and I believe in them. You, on the other hand, are perhaps better off not believing them. More thoughts shall come later, for now enjoy (*no pun intended*)....death!</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/Svy5TFTIABI/AAAAAAAAAzI/SWYqgqZsYV0/s1600-h/tmpphpYUG6Eb.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/Svy5TFTIABI/AAAAAAAAAzI/SWYqgqZsYV0/s400/tmpphpYUG6Eb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403397390428798994" /></a><br /><div>The rushing sound swished by me,</div><div>And I fell into oblivion absolute.</div><div>Unsure, uncertain of what my fate would be,</div><div>I swivelled past the wailing world,myself totally mute.</div><div><br /></div><div>Several suns and stars flashed by,</div><div>It seemed to go on for an eon.</div><div>In between were moments of pain making me cry,</div><div>But some of estacy egging me to move on.</div><div><br /></div><div>It took me forever to realize it all,</div><div>And I was surprised that at my realization instead</div><div>Of fear, a calm followed my fall,</div><div>That rushing indeed was my end, for sure, my death.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-3718744107146884670?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-51573306152267131322009-11-09T19:33:00.002+05:302009-11-09T19:35:46.049+05:30<div>Sometimes you come across a person who leaves a lasting impression in the shortest of intervals. What follows is some part of the plethora of emotions she left me with. Needless to say, do not look for an ending because this is life and it has no end except at the very last. But do try to look for similarities in the emotions you would've experienced at some point or the other, for there are bound to be some; for all, leaving no exceptions.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2198/2280478977_4bb4c4aa9d.jpg"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2198/2280478977_4bb4c4aa9d.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 500px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Cool vibes,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Teasing jibes,</div><div>The way she moves,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>With poise and groove,</div><div>Swinging hips,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Sexy lips,</div><div>Charming ways,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Piercing gaze,</div><div>Naughty as hell,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Hence all's well,</div><div>What's in store,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>No clue anymore,</div><div>Joy seems to come my way,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Only hope its here to stay.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-5157330615226713132?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-42163300147591192672009-11-07T19:29:00.003+05:302009-11-07T19:46:23.826+05:30<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/SvWBAGJJv6I/AAAAAAAAAyg/lccJi23BC3A/s1600-h/96921517_3bdd0d7125.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/SvWBAGJJv6I/AAAAAAAAAyg/lccJi23BC3A/s320/96921517_3bdd0d7125.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401365166749761442" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dil ke taaron ko chedkar tum to chal diye,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Na diya pata na thikhana koi tum to chal diye,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Begane hue hum tum to chal diye,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Kya suraj kya chanda na soojhe ab lekin tum to chal diye.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ankhon se gazal hume suna tum to chal diye,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Honton se bikher ek muskaan tum to chal diye,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Deewane hue hum tum to chal diye,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Khwahish hai ab bas tumhari lekin tumhe kya, tum to chal diye!!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Photo Courtsey: http://www.snappedinsin.com</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-4216330014759119267?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-14974738980201019282009-09-25T05:33:00.006+05:302009-09-25T05:51:13.208+05:30<span style="font-size:100%;">This comes as a direct result of a suggestion/challenge by one of the dearest persons' in my life, </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Varun<em>da</em></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><em>. </em></span><span style="font-size:100%;">So here's for you, an attempt at humor, though it may seem to fall in the category of satire but I do hope it brings a smile on the reader's face. This is also for you dad, life has little positives too, I know! Thanks for being there always...</span><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><em></em></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 147px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZU4gNRm4LkE/SrwMN3cC-3I/AAAAAAAAAxw/nQMpARF2qYI/s200/tmpphpAQrXd2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385192686787689330" /><span style="font-size:100%;"><em><br /></em></span></p><p><span style="font-size:180%;">C</span>aviar and vodka,</p><p><span style="font-size:180%;">R</span>oses and Wine,</p><p><span style="font-size:180%;">A</span> night to remember,</p><p><span style="font-size:180%;">P</span>erfect and Divine,</p><p><span style="font-size:180%;">S</span>ound of alarm and I woke up!</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-1497473898020101928?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-74240020729286313952009-09-23T23:57:00.001+05:302009-09-24T00:11:03.282+05:30<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">M</span>istakes of no-one haunt me<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Y</span>ielding to them remains the only choice</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">L</span>ost in myself I seem to be</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A</span>rmed with weapons of my own demise</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">S</span>uffering and pain seems to hold sway</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">T</span>ortures I try to avert yet fail</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">H</span>ave no clue which's my way</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">O</span>ptions are limited, are only pain and hate</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">P</span>ush on is the only thing I do</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">E</span>ven as death prepares to make its raid</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-7424002072928631395?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-28586862024626406832009-07-31T01:16:00.002+05:302009-07-31T01:20:50.863+05:30<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3062/2652738706_75c3a455ce.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3062/2652738706_75c3a455ce.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div><br /></div>Standing at this crossroad,<br />Am clueless of the path,<br />That brought me here,<br />And also of the one,<br />I should take.<br /><br />Standing at this crossroad,<br />Am filled with regret,<br />For the wrong turns taken,<br />And those turns,<br />That I failed to take.<br /><br />Standing at this crossroad,<br />I look at the paths ahead,<br />All dusty and desolate,<br />Not a soul in sight,<br />With wisdom to partake.<br /><br />Standing at this crossroad,<br />Realization hits me,<br />I am truly alone,<br />The ambiguous cloud that's future,<br />Is mine to make.</span></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-2858686202462640683?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-37520009542087089122009-07-22T21:53:00.000+05:302009-07-22T21:58:10.723+05:30<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; ">I really needed to vent this out, I’ll rather not mention the reasons that have led to this uncharacteristically chucking of personal emotions on my behalf, but I will delve straight into a discussion about the seven deadly sins, namely, “Envy”, “Gluttony”, “Greed”, “Lust”, “Pride”, “Sloth” and “Wrath”.<br />If you are unaware of their meanings or origin, do not read on! Rather go wiki it.<br />Here on I’m just going to discuss my views on why the supposedly “deadly sins” are the basic traits of any man, without whom the existence of any civilized society is questionable.<br />This post is the first one of seven that will deal with the deadly sins, as I see them.<br />This one deals with envy.<br />It’s necessary. The hierarchy of society makes for every reason to be envious of someone or the other. A beautiful example is a short story by Jeffery Archer, “The grass is always greener”. I’ll tell it in succinct, it moves as a narrative through the various employees of an organisation, everyone of whom is envious of the next. It begins with the doorkeeper and ends with the firm’s CEO being envious of the same doorkeeper.<br />Now if you did wiki/google the title, you probably have read Dante’s take on it, “love of one’s own good perverted to a desire to deprive other men of theirs.” But oxford dictionary, the ultimate standard of anything English gives it as: “A feeling of grudging admiration and desire to have something that is possessed by another”. There’s a big difference.<br />It’s totally natural to desire something you do not have. In fact it’s motivating! It spurs you on to try and get what you desire and you do not have. Yes, the realization that you don’t have it but somebody you do not like has it fills you with anger. But isn’t it good to bubble with anger and doing something about it than to live life in a way so demeaning that you do not even care.<br />Feel free to call me dark and a Satanist but I do not care. There’s no such thing as black and white in today’s world and in this canvass of grey all of us have a few dark shades. So instead of denying them why not embrace them and reap the benefits of the dark side too.<br />I do not believe in hypocrisy and openly admit of being extremely envious of a people I barely know, yet whose lives have crossed paths with mine. I hate them, and of things they got and have still got! But instead of sitting around brooding about it, I have decided to do something about it. Maybe it’s a bit too late but, in the highly clichéd footsteps of the wise, better late than never.<br />Just so that people do not take me wrongly I’m not a necromancer, nor am I going to harm them in any way, but all I’m going to do is take crisp and strong steps to achieve all I want and can still get.<br />Not that I was always like this, it was a demon for me, one that I badly wanted exorcised. But I faced my demon and now have embraced envy and am hoping to turn it in the way I want. Can you?</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-3752000954208708912?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-34705082162524217822009-07-11T17:21:00.004+05:302009-07-11T18:22:25.582+05:30<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve always wanted to write about this. It’s a dream, a passion rather an obsession. The topic that concerns me today is:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">The effective use of rhetoric to obscure lack of content</i></b> or in simpler words, use of total bull-poo to cover up the fact that you have little to offer. If you read any of the dozens of newspapers and magazines, watch the irrelevant 24x7 news channels, you know you’ve come across this. So many times they have nothing of relevance to offer so they pick up something of so tiny importance, its creator has no clue of its existence and they adorn it with frivolous words frolicking around and looking all pretty, and people do actually lap it all up!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not that I’m condemning such activities. In fact I, myself, am a great plugger of rhetoric. The beauty lies in the stream of colourful yet magnanimous words that adorn a sentence whether its writ plain or spoken with just the appropriate amount of elocution so as to appeal to the heart rather than make an impression on the reader’s/listener’s mind!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just take for example today’s newspaper, agreed, sec 377’s repeal makes for the headline, but it spanned as many as 6 pages in both the leading national dailies. And if you paid a closer look, nothing substantial you would’ve found! Trust me it was all beautifully written, but the same thing kept appearing in half a dozen moulds. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Perhaps in this post too, nothing of relevance was written, I know not and neither do I care. What I do care about is writing on this topic, ever since my high school English teacher told me that the simple use of rhetoric is insufficient on its own to be consistent enough for a write-up, I’ve always wanted to do this. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">As I officially move past the 300 word mark, I assure every literature enthusiast that rhetoric if used effectively can pull off anything you want it to!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hope it made for a good read, bringing a reminiscent smile to your face without overexerting your brain cells too much. More soon.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Adios</p><p class="MsoNormal">P.S.: This comes here because of the fact that I'm shifting my creativity section of "The sentient soul speaks" here.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-3470508216252421782?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-54600350161876109702009-05-24T12:21:00.005+05:302009-05-24T12:36:26.118+05:30<div>Some scribbles are really short, barely a para, sometimes its just a line. However long they may be, they truly effuse from the bottom of my heart. Here's another of my scribbled emotions, the first of my Pensive Memoirs:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><blockquote><div>Even at the doorsteps of death,</div><div>I shall wait for you with abated breaths.</div><div>Hoping against hope that you would cometh,</div><div>Bidding me thy farewell of not love but hate instead.</div><div></div></blockquote><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-5460035016187610970?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-57074114951709603012009-05-17T22:10:00.004+05:302009-05-17T22:23:08.221+05:30<div>Semester-end examinations are going on, so you can probably guess what I must be going through. Literally no preparations, and facing multiple backs. Hah, yet I defy all, everything and everyone to scribble this.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://emptyeasel.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/Ukiyo-e.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 345px;" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Wings of emotions soar me to new heights,<br /></div><div>Across the abyss, up the mountains to new delights,</div><div>But in the enigma of delight lies pain that makes me sigh,</div><div>Oh, I want to be away from the pain,</div><div>I really want to be high.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the brink of disaster I stand now,</div><div>But to avert it  don't know how,</div><div>Addicted to lonliness I see no scope,</div><div>Despite being an optimist,</div><div>I just have no hope.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know I am alive, but yet I am not,</div><div>Embellished to the hilt, nothing I have got,</div><div>Resigned to my fate, I reslish in the fact,</div><div>That even at my end,</div><div>My sanctity will be intact.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>P.S:- Special Thanks to AD, you inspired me to scribble this with your previous <a href="http://www.writeupcafe.com/2009/05/i-scream.html">writeup</a> on the writeup cafe.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-5707411495170960301?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-49732313366076166962009-05-15T18:18:00.003+05:302009-05-15T18:24:12.607+05:30<div>I had written this one a long time ago. I had been feeling low and lost. So I had thought of some self motivation, this scribble had come up then. Today too am feeling the same way, and was going through my scribbles for some hope, something to get me along and thus...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://homepage.mac.com/cushy1/onmyway/Goingmywayklein.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="http://homepage.mac.com/cushy1/onmyway/Goingmywayklein.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Black thunder &amp; roaring waves,<br /></div><div>Screamin' silence, listen to them say,</div><div>My dark heart cries in estatic neighs,</div><div>Brutal torture I'll avert come what may.</div><div><br /></div><div>Atrocious cries against life,</div><div>In all the pain, all that strife,</div><div>Cutting myself with a blunt knife.</div><div><br /></div><div>I keep tryin' to move on,</div><div>Redempting myself ever since I was born</div><div>Penances in line, like sheafs of corn.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hoping to find peace some day,</div><div>If not I'll just create my own way,</div><div>Keeping melancholy and agony at bay,</div><div>Because that's my life and I'll have it my way.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-4973231336607616696?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-60561452130360342009-05-14T20:34:00.002+05:302009-05-14T20:40:59.177+05:30<div>I shan't give any background for this one. A lot has been going on these days, and it was with a heavy heart that I picked up my pen to scribble this...<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://www.youngatart.com/ArtElements/Art_Illus/Illus_Paintings/Freedom.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 388px;" border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Straining to break free,<br /></div><div>Waiting for oppertunity,</div><div>Spinning till am dizzy,</div><div>Trying hard to finally be,</div><div>Me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lost in the darkness,</div><div>Burdened down with stress,</div><div>No efforts make my pain less,</div><div>Melancholy covers with finnesse,</div><div>Me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Everything perfect I try to do,</div><div>What goes wrong, I have no clue,</div><div>Do my actions I now rue,</div><div>Sadists enjoy this disastrous view,</div><div>Me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Absolute freedom I now need,</div><div>Have to remove this parasitic weed,</div><div>Am I paying for some evil deed,</div><div>Only Death seem's the reprieve, Hell shall be able to free,</div><div>Me.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-6056145213036034?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-53234789101937696662009-05-11T22:02:00.003+05:302009-05-11T22:15:13.161+05:30<div>This particular scribble is extremely close to my heart. Perhaps my first scribble in college, it has a blend of emotions concocting a mellow cocktail of nostalgia, pain, hurt, frustration, confusion and yet, hope...</div><div>Here's my rhythm...</div><div><img src="http://www.visartonline.com/images/183%20Whirlpool%20Blue%20copy.jpg" style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px; " border="0" alt="" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Rhythm in life's a must,</div><div>So we can be in harmony,</div><div>But life's not so just,</div><div>And lays for us troubles many.</div><div><br /></div><div>Coming from a background gentle,</div><div>I seem lost in this backbiting haze,</div><div>I wish the change was subtle,</div><div>And not this ridiculous haze.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish I were away,</div><div>Back to the good and sweet,</div><div>Where friendship held sway,</div><div>Always there and silently discreet.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bonding that always grew further strong,</div><div>Making us feel good,</div><div>And even find our wrongs,</div><div>As ideal friendship should.</div><div><br /></div><div>But here life's different,</div><div>And interaction is less,</div><div>Coldness floods in torrents,</div><div>Adding to my stress.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, I seem lost here,</div><div>But what will I get by lamenting,</div><div>Nobody cares,</div><div>So its no use even pretending.</div><div><br /></div><div>Still I try to march on,</div><div>Towards that beacon of light,</div><div>With the hope that I'll not find it gone,</div><div>As I might break down then, I might!!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-5323478910193769666?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-11454249395624923362009-05-10T21:15:00.001+05:302009-05-12T01:35:39.581+05:30<div>This one came up in one of my broods. I was down and low, as so often I'm, when I started this scribble. I've a terrible attribute of seeing the best in others, often leaving me heart-broken and worse still, clueless about the reason. Prose doesn't express me as well as poetry so I'll let my bettter ability to take over...</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://www.ryoung-art.co.uk/Image%20files/Oil%20paintings/Frustration.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 743px;" border="0" alt="" /><div><br /></div><div>Some people never learn,</div><div>I am one of those,</div><div>Expect way too much from others,</div><div>Only pain's my dose.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes am learning,</div><div>But the process's slow,</div><div>Life keeps on passing,</div><div>Letting my pain to grow.</div><div><br /></div><div>When crisis strikes,</div><div>I try to reamain calm,</div><div>Bearing all the pain,</div><div>Without any qualms.</div><div><br /></div><div>Am stretched and pushed,</div><div>Right upto the hilt,</div><div>No idea how much more I can take,</div><div>Before my head splits.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like a deep cut, an open wound,</div><div>The hurt is forever,</div><div>No escape, no reprieve,</div><div>No way out, never.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-1145424939562492336?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222898276155507227.post-70666260103511838942009-05-10T21:06:00.001+05:302009-05-14T20:45:01.169+05:30<div>This one has been one of my better attempts at pure fiction. Fate or as some call her, destiny has funny ways of getting things done her way. Without further ado, I give you <blockquote>Death Speaks..</blockquote><blockquote></blockquote></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.chadburkey.com/images/0170_large.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://www.chadburkey.com/images/0170_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Life fades to pain and death,<br /></div><div>Where is love in dying breaths,</div><div>I tried to find it and paid heavily,</div><div>Death comes to claim me, her eyes bloodily greedy,</div><div>For I tried to spread hope where it was not,</div><div>To those down and low lest humanity rot,</div><div>Divide melancholy, keep grief at bay,</div><div>Then death said enough! for your sins now you must pay.</div><div><br /></div><div>She met me in the busy street of Baghdad,</div><div>Next to the auction selling ships of Sindbad,</div><div>Even in the hustle-bustle of the market street,</div><div>My spine chilled even in the burning heat,</div><div>Oh! she was beautiful,like an angel I'll say,</div><div>But I knew her, </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>she was death standing in my way,</div><div>Our eyes locked, like lovers we lovingly stared,</div><div>Then she made a threating gesture, </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>and I knew I'd all the reasons to be scared.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've decided, in Baghdad I'll not stay,</div><div>I've to find a way to keep death at bay,</div><div>The fastest horse in all of Baghdad I'll find,</div><div>And set off for the west,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>where in the Sun Death shall be blind.</div><div>To Samarra I'll go for the lore says,</div><div>Death goes not to Samarra till the end of days,</div><div>After I escape I'll keep spreading hope,</div><div>Continue the good work, I pray that Death allows me to elope!</div><div><br /></div><div>Prologue:</div><div>Death:  Death I am, dark yet pure,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>One day I'll be yours too, be sure,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Destiny sure is funny, with its ways,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I'll quote an incident, hear it Death says,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I didn't threaten him,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>if that he thought he was kneive,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>That was just surprise,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>For I really liked him but had my work to do,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I really had to take him,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>but that's something I'll always rue,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What surprised me was his presense in the valley,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Because with my book it didn't tally,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>If he was there in Baghdad the chances were weak,</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Of making it to our rendezeveous </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>in Samarra that night, so Death speaks...</div><div><br /></div><div>Repost from my other blog, <a href="http://www.sentientsoul.wordpress.com/">"The Sentient Soul"</a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/222898276155507227-7066626010351183894?l=scribbled-emotions.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Pranav R. Hundoohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11380168954861785660noreply@blogger.com0