tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36543233838311444182024-03-14T12:48:06.994+05:30Disillusionment..Reality..Fiction..Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-59266970434587913042011-10-17T17:57:00.000+05:302011-10-17T17:57:39.398+05:30revisiting an old indulgence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-On8uiKSktlw/TpwexWyETPI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/C0DMDVcX90Y/s1600/Grim+Reaper_syal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-On8uiKSktlw/TpwexWyETPI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/C0DMDVcX90Y/s640/Grim+Reaper_syal.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
</div>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-7834779076683104972011-04-15T04:51:00.002+05:302011-04-15T04:56:00.786+05:30These are the days..It's crazy how you meet hundreds of people through your life..<br />Brushing by each other.. but none of them every really touch you.<br />and then just one person changes everything..<br />makes you feel like your already everything you'll ever need to be.<br /><br />So yes,Paul Simon, these are truly the days of miracle and wonder.Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-21652171020925676912010-01-28T02:56:00.000+05:302010-01-28T02:57:07.611+05:30Old habits...Promises..Lies<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Ages since I heard your voice,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">This is far from what would be my choice,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I'd give anything to see you smile,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Like a dawn I haven't seen in such a while,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I dream about you all the time,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Being with you is more than sublime,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">You let me know I wasn't alone,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">And showed me I wasn't on my own</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">So never forget my promise to you,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I will wait as I have to,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">No matter what happens or how it hurts,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">You will never have to go on a search,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">For I will always be here,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Even to wait endless years,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">And even after all the tears,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I will still be here for you,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">As ever, I promised to do,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">With a single hope to see you smile,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Doing anything to make it last awhile</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">But when you come,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I hope your smile is true</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">And the spark in your eye is glittering real</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Alas, for so many doubts</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I know that you can conceal</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">For now,</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I stand on the other side of the bars</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Looking into a world unknown</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I see you standing pretending you're ok</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">But I know inside there’s too much doubt</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">I will wait, endlessly, if I must</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">Just to have my best friend back </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt">By your cage I will stand, waiting</p> <span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">Until the day your bars will crack</span>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-44972054995305930362009-12-08T12:01:00.003+05:302011-10-17T18:03:54.044+05:30Sing for the day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
As I gaze upon the sea of life,<br />
And see Death's valleybefore me lie;<br />
<br />
I feel assured I leave this strife,<br />
To rest in peace<br />
to rest forever beneath the sky<br />
but hark a voice calls to me...<br />
<br />
"be still and hear me"<br />
<br />
Who is this intelligence I see<br />
Staring in disbelief at me?<br />
with gentle regard and kindly smile...<br />
<br />
<div>"listen to me, my lost chile<br />
for you must sing as sweetly as you can.<br />
Sing all the tunes you know.<br />
Sweet is the life springing from death,<br />
Sweeter still the day ahead<br />
For to soon yet to rest<br />
Spit on regret.<br />
Damn the sorrow!<br />
fight it with a stormy rage.<br />
Curse the end, and blight the beginning if you must,<br />
But live for the day,<br />
And sing as sweetly as you can.<br />
Listen not for the bells that ring tomorrow.<br />
Make your music while you may".</div></div>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-56943617625541808872009-12-07T23:20:00.002+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.364+05:30impressions about "Him"<div>impressions about "Him" in chronological order (over the last 3 months) :</div><div><br /></div><div>- The almighty hope-your-there</div><div>- The puissant theres-something-wrong-here</div><div>- The great maybe</div><div>- The omnipotent could-be</div><div>- The divine definately-not-there </div>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-68320118741961749272009-12-07T18:15:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.366+05:30Dawn<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">You smiled, you spoke, and I believed..</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">A wavering deep within the soul…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">By every word and smile deceived… </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Another man would hope no more !</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Nor hoped what I hoped before</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">And in the depths of night my heart shall scream </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Deceive, deceive me once again!</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">But in the early dawn do I see…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">The blossoms die upon the tree</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">The leaves whither in the sun…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">And I see…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Spring is done.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">It goes now a wintry way</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">For love that smiled in October</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Is false before Christmas day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Questions ! Questions !</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Was I wrong? Did I stray?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Why would this wound me so?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">I ponder and I pray….</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">The only answer that I know…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Fare thee well, for I must leave, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">In this parting do I grieve…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">But no longer do I believe..</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">And so it is that we must part,<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">Adieu, adieu !</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">I can no longer wait for you,<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">I'll hang my harp on a willow tree, </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal">And may the world go well with you… </p>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-71859104084565493282009-12-07T15:10:00.003+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.369+05:30Got hope ?Which hope we have as an anchor of our soul, both sure and steadfast<div><br /></div><div>- Hebrews 6:19<br /><div><br /></div></div>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-74678333915780959122009-11-23T01:11:00.004+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.371+05:30The last dance<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Just when he thought that love had gone</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Life was but shades of grey</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">She came into his life one day</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">As one last flimsy thread was drawn</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">hope, had once again found a way</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">What used to elude him more and more</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">yet she touched the center of his core</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Being with her, he'd agree,</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Unleashed his fear and set it free</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">With disbelief his heart would ask</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Would this become another snare?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Will pain itself remove its mask</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">To face true love without a care?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">In solitude his heart awaits</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">While trust had found its way again</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">With joyous leaps this life creates</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">A new beginning… another chance</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">May he have just one more dance ?</span></span></div></span></div></span>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-61972895323493407472009-10-07T02:22:00.003+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.374+05:30A picture can be magic<div>He was in a fret...</div><div>because he didn't know where to start..or how to...</div><div>how would he go about recreating to magic of memory without the proper tools ?</div><div><br /></div><div>After brooding about it...a sudden thought struck him...he DIDN'T need any tools !!</div><div>he could start on any blank surface...it didn't have to be a canvas or even a proper paper...</div><div>All it needed to be was white.</div><div>We call it white because we need a word but its true name is "nothing" </div><div>Black is the absense of light.. but white is the absense of memory.. the color of "can't remember"</div><div><br /></div><div>What better medium than that of emptiness to create ? a seemingly endless void...almost begging to give birth to life.</div><div><br /></div><div>Imagine the courage required to re-establish the world and draw that first line...</div><div>to bring back to life something that was...empty..</div><div><br /></div><div>He picked up a pencil... hesitated... and then marked the white...</div><div>After the initial hesitation... the lines seemed to take on a life of their own..flowing seamlessly into one another</div><div>the white no longer an absense of memory...but it's very epitome.</div><div><br /></div><div>but as for all things,this universe must create a balance...</div><div>where life is created..there it must be destroyed as well...</div><div>the first line drawn so hesitantly to create someting had also become a slot...</div><div>a jarring smudge on the white </div><div>a slot for blackness to pour through.</div><div><br /></div><div>but a mark had been made and there was no going back...</div><div>The white...had been marked. and nothing would change that. </div>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-26831433618451479832009-09-16T22:44:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.376+05:30The Seven against Thebes<div><br /></div><div>Great Thebes,the mighty walled, I see</div><div>The seven gated town...</div><div>where brothers reigining annually ..passed too and fro the crown</div><div><br /></div><div>Till Eteocles,despite the law...refuses with a frown</div><div>and the mighty Polyneices wars.. they burnt the city to the ground</div><div><br /></div><div>The champions of argos, strive before each fearsome gate</div><div>Of seven who'll remain alive, is in the hands of fate</div><div><br /></div><div>The brothers,at each others hand,are both for hades bound</div><div>Among those who come from much distant lands, two much missed friends are found</div><div><br /></div><div>Tydeus,fighting axe in hand,is wounded by a foe - Melannipus, who makes a stand and lays the hero low.. </div><div>but not before the axe in hand, has drunk it's longed for draft of blood</div><div>and severed from it's mighty trunk.. a head rolls in the mud</div><div>A final act of vengance when, before he meets his bane</div><div>the dead man's skull is spilt and Tydeus eats his brain</div><div><br /></div><div>Amphiaraus,the god's own seer,fights firecely in the squall</div><div>and knowing that his end is near, triumphs over all !</div><div><br /></div><div>A useless guesture, then he knows,avoiding fate to flee ?</div><div>for Zeus follows where he goes.. his thunderbolts the key</div><div><br /></div><div>When lightning strikes, the earth will spasm,and he can only drive...</div><div>his steeds into a gaping chasm.. into hell alive</div><div><br /></div><div>And greeted there upon the bank by the boatman of old,</div><div>who cares not for the trouble above and demands his ransom of gold.</div><div><br /></div><div>------------------------------</div><div>Thought i'd get morbid in a more accepetable fashion this time :) </div><div>my personal favourite bit is the brains eating one :) I actually got the idea from a comic i was reading in office(!!!shh) and i found the story pretty interesting so i quickly googled it...</div><div><br /></div><div>It's based on the story of "the Seven against Thebes" and "Eteocles and the Polyneices wars"</div><div>Incase your interested in the actual story, i refer you to a wiki link :</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Against_Thebes</span></div><div><br /></div><div>and a google books link :</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">http://books.google.co.in/books?id=3xGfiqR5rjAC&pg=PA107&lpg=PA107&dq=Polyneices+wars&source=bl&ots=ZIIlcS4PPx&sig=NrPkynEv0M-VpAjFgxzWTHqgIEw&hl=en&ei=-dewSoaQK6iG6AP0wtzfAQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1#v=onepage&q=Polyneices%20wars&f=false</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Comments ?? </span></div><div><br /></div>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-15488081056652561072009-08-19T11:05:00.002+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.377+05:30the blue depths call...Ever, in happiness, he had gone to the mountains<br />Some of the happiest times had been spent there.. and anyone who mattered had shared the serene beauty with him…<br /><br />Ever, in sadness, he had run to the sea<br />During times of sorrow and loss, standing ankle deep at the edge, had always been a solace<br />A feeling that could not be shared..<br />In some indescribable manner, the sea seemed not only to be in sync with the sadness, it seemed to reflect an understanding… a comfort no human was capable of providing<br />Like a friend one meets after many long years yet no words are necessary<br />An ever patient acceptance<br />Unquestioning and ever understanding.. somewhat like a mother’s embrace, if one wished to be mawkish about it…<br /><br />And once again in his life, he needed that friendship…<br />The time to leave had come…<br /><br /><br />*Sure.. sounds arbit.. but I really had trouble getting the words out in a way that would make sense<br />Sometimes, words just take on a mind of their own and simply have to be put down in whatever order they come out.. logical or not..whether you like it or not…Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-78011450596544878662009-08-12T00:55:00.003+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.379+05:30A heart's deepest fearDo any of us, execpt in our dreams, truly expect to be reunited with our heart's deepest loves ? Even when they leave us only for minutes and on the most mundane of errands ?<br />No, Not at all.<br />Each time they go from our sight we, in our secret hearts, count them as dead.<br />Having been given so much, we reason, how could we expect not to be brought as low as lucifer for the staggering presumption of our love ?<br />Sometimes these fears are unfounded and baseless..if we are lucky<br />Because sometimes they can be all too true.Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-24116179502810831392009-07-20T16:29:00.002+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.381+05:30Belief<p>If, a year ago, someone had told him, he would be standing here, on the precipice of sanity, surrounded by dilemma… He would have laughed in their face... Time and again, he proudly used to tell everyone that the power of belief would be strong enough to tide anything over… “just believe in yourself” he used to smirk confidently… </p><p>And then the penny dropped… and hard. </p><p>Now, he had strangers walking up to him and telling him “life is good” “keep the faith” “It’s just a phase”… don’t give up hope! All those phrases he himself had blithely handed out like nuggets of wisdom from a cheap self help book </p><p>Is the hopelessness that apparent in his eyes? Can they see the terror, like that of a deer caught in the headlights and unable to move? </p><p>How does he tell them..it’s become like trying to climb some malevolent mountain… The treacherous stones giving way whenever he thought he had reached a stable out cropping and could rest… </p><p>Finding himself at the bottom, dusty and broken… staring up at the misty heights he’d been trying for so long to attain… Getting up each time had become increasingly difficult… This time, he can’t find the energy… </p><p>that final spark of hope has been extinguished.. </p><p>Will he pick himself up? </p><p>Maybe a stranger will come along and guide him… </p><p>maybe even join him </p><p>Maybe together they will reach the top and discover a beauty undreamed of </p><p>Maybe… the grass will be green and the shade cool </p><p>The story is yet to play out….<br /> </p>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-88164644734298329182009-05-26T17:41:00.003+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.382+05:30Homecomingthe door creaked as she pushed it open, the rusty hinges protesting after months of disuse and bad weather...<br />Almost as if they were unhappy at this intrusion into their private world<br />A thick layer of dust coated every surface...it was difficult to imagine people had once lived here.<br />As the door grudgingly opened to her pressure, as dust motes danced in the sunlight let in from behind her...<br />She blinked<br />and it seemed it seemed life had returned to the empty house...<br />She saw herself...a young child, un aware and uncaring of what life would bring... racing across the room followed by her pet dog...<br />She blinked<br />....and it was gone<br />She walked in....hesitantly exploring every room... and every room held a memory<br /><br />Eating lightly salted water melon in the heat of her summer vacation<br />Watching her favorite movie for the umpteenth time on the dilapidated old color TV<br />sneaking her first drag of a cigarette up on the terrace<br />crying in the garden at her first heart break<br /><br />So many memories... most of them faded and buried... all brought back to life by the dusty sights and smells<br />Finally, unable to bear the weight of the memories, she sank down to the floor, dust streaking her jeans...<br />The salty drops of water from her eyes creating shiny round jewels...<br />The house seemed to embrace her and they cried together, alone in the dusky light... alone in the world.<br />After what seemed like an eternity... although only a few minutes had passed... she pushed herself up, unmindful of the dirt... or maybe even finding comfort in it... a little something she could carry away with her...<br /><br />She walked out, locking the door behind her... and walked away... not looking back.<br /><br /><br />She called me a few day later... and i asked<br />"did u visit the old place then ?"<br />"yes..i did drop by"<br />"How was it ?"<br />"You know what they say.... you can go back to an old house.... but you can never go home again"<br /><br />I never heard from her again.Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-60613002832594933412009-05-26T17:39:00.002+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.384+05:30ClichéThe long shadows of twilight long past..a dim memory...<br /><br />Light is no longer welcome in this room...<br />nor is life.<br /><br />The phones have been switched off...the doors locked...the windows shaded.<br />All that remains is me.<br />sitting on my throne of broken dreams and shattered sanity...<br />unmoving as the cobwebs gently caress my limbs<br />a new embrace...a much gentler embrace<br /><br />As the body decays, the mind is set free of frivolous thoughts<br />It blossoms and expands<br />reaching out across the lands and beyond them<br />Set free from physical limitations<br />It begins a new journey<br /><br />Every word from every line above is a cliché, in my mind... a typical ranting.. but then, whats wrong with that ?Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-50748077643537653022009-01-08T17:56:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.386+05:30An industrial fairy taleFinally decided to post this....been sitting on my desktop for too long....<br />===================================================================<br />Once upon a time…long long Looonnngggg ago… in a land not far from here…<br />There existed an industrial wasteland… a dilapidated skeleton of a city…<br /><br />And in this city, there lived a princess.<br />And in the wonderfully green outskirts… there lived a frog.<br /><br />Let’s have a look at this rather wonderful frog first…<br />Imagine a perfectly normal frog….green mottled and slimy… with a marked penchant for large irradiated flies…<br />But ! on second glance… not a normal frog at all…<br /><br />After all, how many frogs do we see walking upright, wearing a top hat, smoking a cigarillo… reading “the complete works of ShakySpears” and listening to an xpod** ? <br /> ( **for the techno geeks… an xpod is similar to an ipod in every way except for its near limitless memory…due to the fact that its hard drive is located mainly in hyperspace and is connected to the player via a small localized wormhole )<br /><br />Well, our rather well read and technically cool frog is sauntering down a country lane, immersed in his book, with not a care in the world***<br />(***apart from the afore mentioned irradiated flies… which were wrecking havoc in the pseudo spatial gaming parlors…but that’s a story for another day) <br />When suddenly, a sweet singing stops him dead in his tracks… and the book drops to the damp ground, unnoticed… the froggie rock blaring from his headphones forgotten…<br />Quietly he creeps around the corner and see’s a vision of beauty lighting up the blasted landscape.<br /><br />She’s sitting in her six-legged monkey drawn carriage, gently fanning herself while singing the sweetest melody the frog had ever heard from a cybernetically enhanced throat….<br /><br />Ol’ Frog takes a swig from his hip flask, screws up his dutch courage….and hops across to the princess…<br /><br />He looks up at the princess and asks “ croak croak croakty croak ?”<br /><br />“Excuse me, Sir Frog… let me switch on my universal translator”<br /> Click..whirr..click click whirr….<br />“Now, would you repeat yourself ?”<br /><br />The frog clears his throat and once again pipes up…<br />“ My dear lady… would you, by any chance, happen to be a princess ?”<br /><br /> The princess looks down her extremely long nose at the tiny frog, while sticking her chin up into the air at a haughty angle ****<br />(****this mysterious trick of looking down on someone while sticking one’s chin in the air is a trick mastered only by women and the University of Blecklespeck long ago went bankrupt trying to solve it) <br /> <br />“Why, Sir frog, I shall, for this once, forgive your ignorance… putting it down to you being a simple country oaf”<br />“I am the Princess of 99”<br /><br />Frog gaped at her..awestruck<br />Although he had no clue as to what a princess of 99 was supposed to be, it seemed suitably impressive for his purposes….<br /><br />Bowing low, he murmurs “ forgive my insolence, O honored Princess of 99… your praises have long been sung far and wide across the land”<br /><br />“ya right” she replies… somehow managing to look exotic even while frowning…<br />“do you know..frog legs are considered a delicacy in certain circles ?”<br /><br />“umm…well…umm” his face going pale.<br /><br />She sniggered…”Be at ease, Sir Frog…..am just fucking with u”<br /><br />“oh well.. heh…nice one” still pale.<br /><br />“So, el froggo… whatcha want ?”<br /><br /> “Weeeelllll…there’s this legend in our family that been handed down generation by generation….that we were once rather handsome humans and belonged to a great family of scientists but a genetic experiment gone wrong turned us into frogs….and only a kiss from a princess can cure this”.<br />“ewww…I hope you don’t expect me to… ??”<br />“I was hoping so”<br />The princess sat back thoughtfully…. Maybe something could be gained from this..<br />====================================================================<br />ooops...coz that'll be it till post 21st Jan... seems my clients have forgotten there's a recission going on....and my bosses have suddenly remembered there is one...sigh....<br />well....i can tell u that this will not end as expected....but many exciting things are yet to happen to froggie....<br />ps - thanks to CG for the inspiring this story......Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-21286358733776460842009-01-06T23:16:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.388+05:30My FriendShe is my friend and is with me nearly all the time....<br /><div>She always joins me when I drink, and we get along just fine.....</div><div>Nobody has ever seen her, Im the only one.....</div><div>Seemingly I must be mad but insanity is fun.....</div><div>Doctors say she's just a figment of my twisted mind....but her eyes haunt me all the time....</div><div>If they cant see her they must be going blind</div><div>Two men dressed in white collected me two days ago....They said there's only room for one and she cant go....</div><div>I cant even ring her cause she doesn't have a phone.....Hasnt got a home</div><div>Life is very gloomy in my little padded cell.....Its a shame there wasnt room for her as well.....</div>Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-87007231398726591122008-12-24T14:06:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.390+05:30HUMBUG !!!!'Twas the night before Christmas - Old Santa was pissed,<br />He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.<br />Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks,<br />I have good mind to scrap the whole works.<br /><br />I've busted my ass for damn near a year,<br />Instead of "Thanks Santa" - what do I hear?<br />The old lady bitches cause I work late at night,<br />The elves want more money - The reindeer all fight.<br /><br />Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids,<br />Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.<br />And just when I thought that things would get better,<br />Those assholes from IRS sent me a letter.<br /><br />They say I owe taxes - if that ain't damn funny,<br />Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?<br />And the kids these days - they all are the pits,<br />They want the impossible... Those mean little shits.<br /><br />I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds,<br />Assembling dolls... Their arms, legs and heads.<br />I made a ton of yo yo's - No request for them,<br />They want computers and robots... they think I'm IBM!<br /><br />If you think thats bad... just picture this,<br />Try holding those brats... with their pants full of piss.<br />They pull on my nose - they grab at my beard,<br />And if I don't smile... the parents think I'm weird.<br /><br />Flying through the air... dodging the trees,<br />Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees.<br />I'm quitting this job... there's just no enjoyment,<br />I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.<br /><br />There's no Christmas this year...now you know the reason,<br />I found me a blonde... I'm going SOUTH for the season!!Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-21718884893189509112008-12-19T15:10:00.002+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.391+05:30A dreamHe leaned back in his chair…. Looking on quietly… unable to tear his eyes away even for a second…<br />Looking at her as she lay curled up against the huge pillow… eyes closed… peace written all over her face…<br />She looked so much younger….dwarfed against that huge cushion… he could almost see the reflection of the child she had been….the worry lines around her eyes seemed to fade as she smiled…<br />He wondered what she was dreaming…. Would he be in those dreams ?<br /><br />His smile faded as he realized… it would soon be time to wake her up…<br />There were others who had a greater claim to her time than he did… and they would soon begin wondering where she was…<br />She had come to him directly from the airport… and he feared the questioning “raised eyebrow” looks they would get…<br />Well…it would be faced when the time came… something had to be done…<br /><br />Until then… it was time to end the dreams…Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-81245343223271113782008-12-19T15:02:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.392+05:30the seekingThey walked across the endless plains… no destination in mind<br />No destination….<br />But with a purpose firmly etched in their minds<br />With a hope of meeting their destiny and embracing it…<br />They walked….<br />Heedless of the hot sands and the cool grasses<br />Headless of shady forests and towering ruins….<br />They walked….<br />Their passing disturbed shadows and the beasts stirred…. Watching from a far with malevolent eyes…<br /><br />Chasing the darkness which seemed to flee… forever a step ahead… but always tantalizingly within reach…They walked….Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-28193371008882452112008-12-10T19:58:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.394+05:30Stumbling upon a page from the pastTinkering around… visiting a few blogs… I came across a familiar name….<br />A name I haven’t thought about for a long time…and on the rare occasions I do remember…it’s with disdain tempered by a pinch of confusion.<br />But once that name was synonymous with every thought…with every plan for the future…<br /><br />Interestingly…I expected to read this person’s blog and feel a rush of memories flood in… but that just did not happen…<br />As I read on…into older and older posts…looking for something I could identify with… I came to realize… that if what this person has written reflects the true personality, then I never knew or understood who this person actually was.<br />Not in one single post could I see “my version” of that person….<br /><br />Was I simply blind ? or was I misled ?<br /><br />In a way, it’s a relief…<br />And in some others… a disappointment<br /><br />Sometimes I think I have a perverse desire to dig into the past and bring up questions like ….How ? Why ? and all that… I guess many of us do that…<br />Either way… it’s a chapter well left buried…Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-29357359298033108712008-12-04T17:01:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.395+05:30Of gods and men....I recently read an article with the above title and it struck me as quite pretinent.... are we, as indians, truly as proud of our diversity as we tell the tourists ? Or is is just another tag line for the globalising India... "Unity in Diversity" yey !!... while nursing in our hearts contempt for those weird accented foreigners who somehow became part of "OUR" india.I doubt there are many among us who have not used reagionalism or religion to vent on those "Intellectually pseudo bongs" or those "Rude and uncouth punjabis" and so on and so forth... the best of us have done it...<br />Gods were once icons of hope...prosperity...love...now all they represent ( whether we admit it or not ) is hate. well..."now" is of course not the apt word...its been going on for centuries...around the world...but i would like to think we'ed have evolved as humans by now.... instead we seem to be degenerating into the dark ages once again.<br />Being a staunch supporter of globalisation and a firm believer in capitalism.... I think these are the religions that will see us through and not the million or so "almighties".<br />The poor man is screwed either ways...so might as well make the most of it...Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-88340848579599014862008-12-03T14:34:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.396+05:30YOUR FIRED !!!Hmm…”firing” seems to be the frayed and over used buzz word of the day….<br />Whether we look at it in the context of pink slips with an image of Donald Trump pointing at us and telling us to fuck off…( at least that’s the image that comes to my mind )<br />Or we look at it in the context of what’s been on television the past week…. “firing at Taj” “more firing at Oberoi” “a little more firing at CST” “yet more firing at Nariman House”<br />…yes…I am starting to get sick of the word…<br />But this is not yet another rant against the unjust world , corrupt politicians and our ineptness at being decent human beings…I guess we’ve all posted to our blogs…discussed it in office…sent patriotic emails ad nauseam…<br />My dilemma has more of a personal…selfish nature…<br />I feel as if I’m sitting in this ivory tower watching these events pass me by as if on a television screen…<br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Me ?</span> I can never get fired. <span style="color:#cc0000;">Me ?</span> terrorists are never going to attack <span style="color:#cc0000;">ME</span> ! these things only happen to strangers…<br />I find myself in a situation in which I am unable to care about these strangers as I am “expected” to do… sure I make the appropriate comments….pay lip service to whatever is considered to be the “in thing” but all I think is..yawn…so what’s new ?<br />I wonder how long I’ll be able to insulate myself from the world ? I don’t even know if it’s a good or bad thing…. But there it is… and no apologies..Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-6706137965981116782008-11-09T16:18:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.397+05:30giving up....He turned off the television….no longer able to make sense of the swimming images in front of him.<br />Shaking his head to rid it of the strange cobwebs that had settled there, he got up and wandered around the dark apartment.<br />His body seemed heavier than ever…. Like dragging around a dead weight tied to the ankles…. He knew the weight could be shaken off and the cobwebs cleared…. He had done it before… hypnotizing himself with happy thoughts of times gone by….and fantasies of times to come….<br />But today was different…. He could feel it….he felt himself loosing the struggle to maintain the façade…even in his own mind…. He was tired of fooling himself.<br />After a few aimless circuits of all the rooms…. He made up his mind… or more accurately….he simply gave in…to what seemed inevitable<br /> After all, who would blame him? All the justifications were right there, he thought.<br />Now, after giving up the struggle, he felt more at ease with the mists surrounding his mind……a fog that dimmed out reality settled on him.<br />“Best if I turn my phone off…. Don’t want anything to spoil the mood” he told himself…. One of his last lucid thoughts… and eager to be gone, at that.<br />He had what he needed… he always did… and he collected the things together and kept them on the table in front of him…neatly, in order of how he would need to use them….the process seemed natural….like a ritual done hundreds of time….<br />Peace would finally be his….. It would no longer matter what happened…he smiled as he realized… he simply did not have to care any longer.<br />The darkness came, creeping over him, giving him the comfort he craved, and he pulled it over him, like a child pulling its security blanket…<br />He smiled then….and a single tear rolled down one eye….Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3654323383831144418.post-74523184650227008872008-10-06T03:29:00.001+05:302010-01-21T01:39:30.400+05:30"Forgive them for they know not what they do!"It’s hard to fathom why we treat each other like we do… but we do it, for the most part unknowing of how it would affect those whose lives are attached to ours like strings… our every action sending vibrations across unguessed paths…<br />Have you ever been treated so bad that forgiveness can never happen?<br />Friends betrayed you. You got a Judas Kiss. These are some examples of pain and suffering and not wanting to forgive. Yes! We want them to pay for hurting us so badly. We want them to get there just reward. But anger and the inability puts a chain around our necks and it leaves ushurt and damaged and unable to move on.<br />Forgiveness is like the aroma of a flower being stepped on by your heel. It has a sweet smell even though the damage has been done.<br />As the song goes....." The memory now..is like the picture was then.....once its been crumpled...it cant be perfect again"<br />To be able to grow and move on with life one must be able to forgive, but that is not saying to forget and to not remember what they have done. It is just not holding it to their account anymore.<br />It is a bitter sweet experience. It takes time and one must deal with the consequences of their actions but to be able to set your spirit free, you must find a way to be able to move on and let it go.<br />Sometimes we do stupid stuff and can't believe we were capable of doing such things. But we must also forgive ourselves. It is the key to unlocking many doors.<br /><br />I forgive you all....for leaving....for dying....for not understanding....<br />I wish I,too could be forgiven……Rohit Syalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07975552248550954655noreply@blogger.com2