Vidiyum Munn

The enlightenment provided by conscience at the moment of amassing material richness! The gore of a heinous mind. Daring vision of a newcomer. The idea of a man who profits at the sins of infidelity. A pimp who's made to limp. A silly matter of culmination of truth and  innocence bringing out a climax that majority of those belonging to the golden olden days would've begged for. Dragging first half and you're  dragged in, the second half. BGM that thrills, cinematography of difference, movie making in parts of daring reference, in reverence. The normality of vengeance during the period of ability, beyond the days of inability. All of these make for a magical experience for discerning viewers gracing the cine hall for less of heroism and more of parallel cinema. Bravo Vidiyum mun, second halfikku pinnn!!! 

A Unicorn for a Common man in traffic - my click and words to follow

Though they control me physically, I control their destiny! Getting Mustanged:) Randomly clicked in traffic!

Raja Rani, The short review

Raja Rani - One hell of a different movie. Makes me wanna say i am in the dreamland of movie goer's wretched spell for quite some time . Have watched a hat-trick of beautiful movies in the past few weeks. Loss of a loved one, forgetting that they were once loved to remember the love of their parents. Placing the happiness of others over that of themselves while reminiscing the past of sorrow, Finding soulmates in a "Wills made for each other" typecasting, solid acting crew, Nayan ability to deliver when tamil actress imports have failed . She seriously inspired palpitations while she had convulsions, bravo shot for an actress. Hands down will certainly win something with this performance. Arya's ability to be a an uncommon lover, Jai's simplicity and innocence, the little portion from "Santa"nam making you giggle intermittently, make it a very watchable movie atleast for the difference in the plot, if not for a dragging second half. Less masala, masha allah for quite some time for a tamil movie. Liked it, plz watch it. I am in the varutha padada valibar sangam for having watched the movies that i have watched:)

Pic Courtesy -http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/2/23/Raja_rani_tamil.jpg/220px-Raja_rani_tamil.jpg

Vanakkam Chennai; The Short Review

Vanakkam Chennai;
Costly necklace,5 star hotel, London mappillai, sollu Yeppo kalyanam? A girl from London and his heart's undone.Shiva's one liners and tailor made sarcasm and situational comedy, the ever improving Priya Anand, and well "the almost hero" in the second half -Santhanam, make this dramedy/rom-com fun and watchable, if one were to not think too much to smile. There's an increasing trend of sorts, when it comes to kollywood dramedies/rom-com currently made. Most of these movies make you forget yourself in happiness, definitely worth every penny for that alone. But when you think beyond the hall, you realise there's nothing different when it comes to love, but then you're happy. The happiness in irony wanes for some part of the movie owing to hard-worked seriousness with respect to love. Portions of Black and white dramedy takes you on a trip down the memory lane and gets you back giggling! The Music makes you levitate with happiness "in parts"! A dramedy from a newcomer that lets you leave the theatre hall with a smiley face.  I guess that's all that matters:)

Pic Courtesy: http://www.kollywoodtoday.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/vanakkam-chennai-teaser.jpg

The Idea of Philanthropy

Real Happiness of the

The Saviour Doctor,

The Saviour Charitable,

The Saved life,

One dedicating his life to others,

One being happy at the smile of others,

Coming to the aid of the orphaned,

Providing a family to the orphaned,

The feeling of loneliness substituted by the happiness of togetherness,

To the one living in solitude, Leaving aside solitude and enjoying the multitude in happiness of others,

Real happiness lies in provision of what one has, to the have not’s.

The philosophy of philanthropy is a selfish thought of selflessness,

You may ask why?

Its because the end result is that of happiness of the one who gives which already resulted in the happiness of the one who received.

Serving the needy, feeling needed, ability to give, happiness of provision, providing ammunition for happiness! Philanthropy – the perfect tonic of happiness to the noble hearts that give without too much of a thought- Real and unparalleled happiness!

Dedicated to the Mother of Sacrifice – Teresa and a silly little movie Kick, with a hint of nobility in deeds, which inspired this thought.

Yet to act on it- As I am a common man, yet to be inspired J

Pic Courtesy: http://www.heartandpen.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/hands_giving_plant_edit.gif

Lucia, My Thoughts

"With a lot of effort I had sewn together the heavenly stars of my dreams and presented the garland of love to you, only to be awoken from my dreams to see the garland vanish!" ( Modified from the subtitles:) ) Lucid dreams of every Kannidiga fulfilled. Lucia! to awaken all those kannada filmmakers from their slumber to applaud and dust themselves  up and reinvigorate Kannada Cinema ! The torch bearer in the cinema hall has lit up the faces of all Kannadigas with this one. Lucia the renaissance, Lucia every filmmaker's dream, Lucia the comman mans crowd funded  wonder :) Thoroughly loved it ! Anybody even remotely associated with word "Kannada" has to watch it.Lead kindly light Lucia! I have worn my heart on my sleeve while writing this one. Hope other Kannada Filmmakers follow the suit:).

The Lunch Box, the short review

A subtle and romantic Oldie(Irfan Khan), A beautiful and patient housewife who has found new love unshackling herself from monotony, the ever so enthusiastic wannabe workaholic Nawazi, the simple letters that touch and convey, the love that subtly sways your heart with all its practicality and the waited loss of logic when it comes to affairs of the heart. To add to all of this, The Midas touch of Irfan Khan, the ever so beautiful newbie Nimrat Kaur, refreshing cinematography, understandable philosophy and the rightly paced narrative, act as the perfect meal that any Cinegoer's wishful thinking lunchbox could have been packed with. Lunchbox is more of a punch box in an ever increasing new trend of art movies becoming hits, slowly picking pace in Indian Cinema. Art i felt, as a matter of heart. A must watch.

My write-up for a photographer!

About me;

Hrithik Roshan  goes my name. Born and bred in Bangalore, raised and fed by loving parents. Am taking care of their creation for me, “my family business”. I have an MBA from  a reputed University.

Found Love;

I am a photography enthusiast, who capitalises on the inability of the eyes and the human mind to retain the sight of the divine marvel of nature and the creations of masterminds of humanity. I love sharing the creation of my vision on celluloid, on every one of my photography missions with like-minded people and nature enthusiasts. With the hope of appreciation that my eyes had for these wonder shots, I present to thee, my effort on celebrating the creations captured by me, with hard work and unswerving dedication to this passion of mine.

I have visited various heritage sites of Mother Earth (may not be the ones declared as such by humans) and have been inebriated on every sight of what it has to offer to humanity. I have braved the physical obstacles that nature poses in order to capture this captivating magnum opus of divinity and humanity. Photography I believe is poetry in motion, for every one with ability to see and believe in wonders. It is the mother of all inventions.

Willing to share with thee my passion;

I am a student of my lens, willing to share it and tutor other students sharing the same enthusiasm of mine, for this beautiful passion of creation and reminiscence. I shall make time to flirt with this passion of mine with enthusiasts in workshops.

Punch-line if need be:

Divinity oozes class; this is my fervent effort to bring it to the mass.
Thanks to Amit Pramod Kamat for giving me a chance.

         

The Brick layer of Taj Mahal

I heard a tv dialogue that a guy loving a beauty is just an ordinary brick-layer incapable of building the Taj for the most beautiful human being and the maximum he could do was to gaze at this marvel of a human creation. My feeling is that he laid the bricks of Taj with his heart and showed it to his beauty now and again. He reminded his adviser that the material Taj was built by thousands of brick-layers, with the money of the lover and the vision of a poet, for someone deceased. But he has built his Taj not in the memory of a loved one, as she lives on in his heart till his breath ceases, for time immemorial. He needn't show her ghost, this memorial of materiality nor exhibit his memorial to public for their marvel. All he does is build this Taj with the bricks of love and mortar of conviction, that one day she shall realize this hearty feat and reside in his sanctum sanctorum of  beauty, which shall become a love that will be remembered for time immemorial.

Pic Courtesy:http://famouswonders.com/taj-mahal-story/

D-Day

A melo "D"rama Day outfield for the Refusing to Analyse bolly Wing(RAW) on the D DAY . I still feel any intelligence agent would be mentally trained and be in a position to seclude themselves from scented pencils and family afflictions. Leaving a trail behind owing to Love and family isn't what normally happens. Still the movie was defy watchable. Was entertaining, With a surprisingly good performance from Arjun Rampal.  Though the concept of RAW agents has been given a Bolly celluloid form. Remains a decent effort of difference from the movies made till date, with regard to secret agents. D Day - Watch it for power packed performances from Arjun and Irfan with an Bollywood rendering of an RAW agent, that makes the movie interesting till the end(Unless you are too knowledgeable of the workings of RA W Intelligence) .

Love beats

I could worship you for I'm a priest infatuated by your divine beauty, but I couldn't own you as I'm born a mortal. 

All I could do in this life is to learn sculpting so that I could sculpt this divine beauty and engrave the same in my heart and worship thee whenever my heart beats for you!

The Ship of Theseus

Blinded by fate, with a dream of capturing the beauty with sight.  Transformation of a a monk trying to fight against testing of Animals ending up tested for liver cirrhosis and compelled to take the very same medicine for which those animals were tested. A monk's change to being human in extremities as he chose to live than to die for the dead animal being tested while they live. Portrayal of a man blinded by his love for the Smiling Gandhi's currency and his ability of empathy and guilt on discovery of getting his Kidney transplanted from an NGO and the interweaving story of a Bricklayer's kidney being stolen and transplanted to a guy in France . How on the sight of money, a poor man's sorrow, which changed the life of a money minded stock broker, is bought? The script's ability to deal with sanity in pain does help you sense the aspect of practicality of life.    The cave explorer's cave has been explored and found to enlighten and enliven humans .......finally showing the stoned heart that shone through the body of the donor, seen by the vision and felt by the body of the donee(s). From being a cave explorer to being dead and still living in parts and those valuable parts transforming the lives of eight different people - The ship of Theseus is indeed an intellectual masturbation required for the monotonous humanity portrayed by Bollywood.  This ship of Theseus transcends human boundaries and the troubled waters of fickleness of the mind created by the all conquering money and remains afloat sensibly in our minds. Finally, this Hinglish isn't all that far from the English that an Indian craves.

Pic Courtesy : http://moifightclub.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/ship-of-theseus.jpg

The sun and the moon found me in you!

The very reason the sun revolves around the earth is so his light can catch a glimpse of you in the morning as he rises.

The only reason the moon comes around is because he can borrow the sun's rays and reflect them onto you, to see how angelic a human can get in the dark.

Now do you know the reason for your glitter?, it's because I told these bright guys, be it day or night, where are they to find you in light .....,
In my heart i showed, as they lit me up to find you engraved on to my heart glowing forever!

Raanjhanaa; the short review dedicated to Dhanush

Dhanush has shot an arrow from his National award winning dhanush(bow) into the bolly skies that is nice and noticeable  and will be so for time to come . His looks deceive but his acting flatters, though the story progresses gradually into tatters! 

A southie trial on hindi for the sake of Dhanush;

Slapped over and again by Zoya, Dhanush ne Raanjhnaa banke kuch nahi khoya, usne hame rulaya aur Raanjhnaa banke hamare kareeb aagaya!

Pic Courtesy:http://static.indianexpress.com/pic/uploadedImages/bigImages/B_Id_379305_raanjhana.jpg

The Lotus and the Rose

The detached and the incense attached,

Beauty of the one divine and the other angelic,

One respires in water while making its identity,

While the other is preserved in water so as to not lose its identity.

One an attraction and the other a distraction.

One unprotected in solitude,

The other self-protected by thorns, in the vicinity of multitude.

One goes unnoticed in the wild,

As the other is celebrated by the wild majority.

Incensed by ones fragrance when eyes wide shut

And its beauty when wide open,

The commoner falls for the latter,

As experience and wisdom chooses the former.

Yet one not bewildered in the wild shines effervescently through the heart of the chosen one,

As the one bewildered by the population is plucked.

How many can swim to attain thee, lotus?

One who dares attains thee,

As everyone who covets beauty can attain a rose, though pricked by its nature.

You are worth the effort, as a rose can be had at comfort.

But your beauty can only be attained by a fervent admirer with a discreet vision.

The Rose or the Lotus, not many have a choice between the two,

As most of them settle for Daisy, as it’s easy.

Pic Courtesy: http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/098/3/1/Lotus_and_peony_rose_by_JeroenICA.png

Oh my Dear

Oh my dear, all you possess is the bachelor-ship of beauty in this education of life,

I on the other hand am the King of Hearts,

And the Master of Arts.

Beauty ain’t the be all and end all to the one who looks beneath

And sees the subtleness of your heart.

Of what avail is the seduction of Beauty,

To the one blinded by the love for the character of heart.

My dear beauty you’re an art and I am an artist,

Tell me who needs to impress?

Where lies beauty, there lies a presumption as to conquest of hearts.

But all hearts don’t crave for beauty alone,

For beauty shall age and fade out,

True love and honour shall follow you to grave.

Pic Courtesy : MYSELF

Un-for-gettable

Love, a collector’s item to those who can forget,

To those who've trialed many a time.

Unforgettable for those who can’t forget that once, with as many a time.

Love for her was Unforgettable till it lasts,

In her memories he fasts.

He danced till he was fired,

And in her memories another was hired,  

As she pronounced to him that of him she was tired.

For she would have his thoughts killed,

As its another with who's thoughts her mind’s filled.

She stole his heart, which wasn't even her part,

That love he carried in his heart,

And that he thought he had painted like an art,
Which he couldn't bear as things fell apart,

Was stolen, with him not even being a part.

As from her heart he’s asked to walk away,

And as he walks, she looks away.

The scent of a woman, unforgettable even when it doesn't last,

Though the incense will long be gone fast.

How he wished he had remained friends,
As he would've got a chance to run errands,

While he would have loved to admire her from afar,

Though it would've been as a friend when near,

For there would've been no reason to tear,

As she would've always been near.

He thought it was a meant to be a fairy tale,

Ended up drinking a beer of ginger ale.

That was the price he paid,

As poker of love, was the game he played,

As a loser he walked away, with his heart forever gambled away.
INSPIRED FROM THE PARADES END.
PIC COURTESY: MYSELF

To Cinderella with Love from a Prince.

You're like a Cinderella in the modern world waiting for a gentleman of virtuous riches like me to feel you with the crystal shoes of the foretelling oracle and heal you of the abnormalities in your life caused by the poverty in thoughts of the society. Marry me and I'll make you live your dream of happiness and absolve you from the misery of impermanence that you deserve.

The Chosen One

What if one among us is the chosen one?

Unwavering, when hard hit by obstacles that would've shaken,

He would walk on through the path that seems broken, unshaken.

What if one among us is the chosen one?

Unleashed, Unshackled and Unstoppable,

When he wills for the world to succeed.

What if one among us is the chosen one?

Beyond all doubts of impossibilities,

Working towards possibilities.

What if one among us is the chosen one?

The chosen one to lead,

And to sacrifice and bleed.

What if one among us is the chosen one?

Beyond all the greed, among ourselves while we breed,

He chose others, to feed, in the times of need.

What if one among us is the chosen one?

To raise from the ashes like a phoenix,

And raise other’s dying morale with positive antics.

What if one among us is the chosen one?

To cry his lungs out for the common loss,

As life chose him to toss.

What if one among us is the chosen one?

To let an opportunity pass,

For the downtrodden to get past.

What if he is God and god is great,

Will he stand here, born a human?

Witnessing the unbearable,

Observing people do the unthinkable,

And being a silent spectator while the good were wasted for light years,

As bad ransacked them to share the spoils with Satan.

Will he rise up and be the chosen one?

To become god, to pull strings to afford the poor a chance and

Correct the evil impoverished with poverty in thought,

And not leave the world in the hands of the good and bad to be fought.

I am a theist waiting for a god among humans with faith,

Waiting like a human, for one among us to be superhuman,

Waiting for the one and only one, The Chosen One.
Pic Courtesy:http://theworkingcaregiver.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/the_chosen_one_845.jpg

Smoking Kills, till you reach your end it thrills.....even when it rhymes

I thought if Smoking could kill,
Smoking you would thrill,
That would in the end kill.
As its your smoke in my lungs i fill,
In the aftermath i ended up taking a pill,
You've made me follow this drill,
Until i end up being ill,
All for a useless thrill,
Until the after effects of smokes made my existence nil.
Beyond this i can't fill,
As smoking does kill.
Your name was cigarette, i regret in the end you've become cigar"hate".
Pic Courtesy: http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/bombaert/bombaert1202/bombaert120200004/12405760-smoke-skull-rising-from-a-cigarette.jpg

The Leader

Inspiring to the masses,

Turning asses into horses,

With a bag full of aces,

He conquered the masses.

He turned the ignoble to charitable in his absence,

He turned lunatics to ascetics in his presence,

Turning violence into silence as a mark of respect.

He would turn a lunatic’s asylum into Christ’s Jerusalem as he walks.

As he talks everyone listens,

It is his intellect that we would choose to elect.

One from the masses, grounded as much as the ashes,

It’s our sins that he washes, as above him god watches.

He is our leader and of our sins, the reader, 

and when we are sinned, the pleader.

He is the kind we the common need, to whom the common heed,

And for protecting whom we may even choose to bleed.

He is here to mend, as we chose our character to amend.

 It’s among us he breeds, without castes and creeds,

Compassion to us he feeds, cutting off among us the weeds.

As humanity bows, to their protection he takes vows.

One who commands without any demands,

Leads without words and when worded people call it the Bible, Quran or Bhagavad Gita.

He is the Jesus to Christianity, Prophet to Muslims,

Krishna to the Hindus.

We bow to the leader, the one who owes to the creator.

Not just a preacher, but with his actions also a heart reacher.

He is the leader and a reader of Divinity's thoughts as Satan plots.

People who never wanted to be lead, followed him, 

He is the one and only Leader.

Pic Courtesy: http://i845.photobucket.com/albums/ab16/hortencia9/opslag%20
plaatjes/2005_kingdom_of_heaven_wallpaper_005.jpg

An effort in support of Tamil Ealam - Part 2

Just a selfish troubled pretender to be writer like me thinking “Had I been a Lankan Tamil (Prabhakaran’s Son), what misery would denounce me?”;

Birth, tears, its fears and when life nears! The trials and tribulations of a Tamilian in Lanka on birth, growth and then death!

Birth;
A lady always hopes for an angel when in the womb, an angel when dormant but when out, a fallen angel, incensed by the sinister people around, he/shes fallen angel, not owing to axe effect but owing to Satan who influences us on being created by our mother divine, the dominant designs while he plants and she implants and the we're the ones who enjoy the silence in dormancy, use our legs to punish the one who allowed the plantation.

Lost in this word of darkness I ended this football game of mine tearing up to light, unshackling myself from the oven of flesh, the cause for my very miserly existence now. Tears as the light seemed evil, on the days I felt lighter I knew not of that which would beset me.

After all the waiting in darkness, out to find light to enlighten my life, I can see the grown ups blocking the light smiling at me as I'm out.  Mother divine is happy as I’ve ended her temporal pain, knowing not society inflicts more pain than the one felt by the flesh. Born into a world of strangers, strangled almost in a world of creation. Happy when I knew nothing, not knowing that I know nothing and becoming aware of the sad destiny ahead as I realise what truth would entail, as I grow into a Tamilian, among Lankans who kill to make a name, or was it was an old game of keeping scores?.

Living;

Then my heart became heavier with light on things my mind couldn't handle. The language of death, there lies my misery. Death, that whore of the sinister, who obeys the order of Satan. It made me realize that I won’t be alive for long. And while I live I shall witness the complete obliteration of everything and everyone known to me. My parents would long be dead, while they lived I couldn’t even afford for them a bed, now dead on the bed of death.

I felt like Jesus, without the attribute of sacrifice. I had nothing to sacrifice, as the word sacrifice symbolises me letting go of something willingly. But everything was taken from me, with no one to answer, with only me to suffer. Like Jesus I was nailed, to the top of the heap of my relative’s bodies, with others blood all over me, so much so that I couldn’t realise I was bleeding.  As years passed, parts of my mind were nailed to those bodies of memories, my mind and heart bled incessantly. I decided to voice my thought as I wouldn’t let this bleeding pass, without it being fought. While I voiced my thought, living among the dead, with only the dead to listen, I realised that it’s a failed cause that I’m fighting for. For I couldn’t gather masses with this sadness, while that which the majority looked for was their happiness.

I was a prisoner of my past and then trailed with all the bloodshed that I witness and then nailed with the silence of the dead.

Still Living?

Why was I even born? Owing to the arranged coming together, whose desire created me, as the creation had no say in it. Created in privacy, owing to intimacy and I became their fallacy. I never had a say in it, should I ask for forgiveness or should they?. They ceased to exist caring not for my existence. Witness to all that one wouldn’t forget even if he were to be cursed to take seven lives. Nothing would’ve been experienced had I been unborn. I bear all their sins and my prayers of happiness have been answered with the sorrow of capital punishment 

Prayer for freedom by homicide or independence;

If I still choose to live, then my prayer shall be for freedom to be my whore. For I have been punished by the mistress of misfortune and sentenced to a life of Indignity . Or do I choose to sleep forever, for I have seen light tainted by blood.

Death;

Of what avail is life, to a person who has lost everything while living in anticipation of death for freedom. They shot me and my prayers were answered in permanence as the pellets pierced my flesh. For the first time I see this temporal pain answer my prayers of permanence. I am no more bound by flesh nor by humanity. The pathway to heaven has been opened for me. I shall not be reborn as I have paid for all the sins of humanity. Thanks to the majority, who shall rot in hell for years to come as they’ve committed blasphemy.

Pics of my slaughter by the Lankan Army have been posted to garner sympathy for my clan

Conclusion;

Soul speaking for others alive;

We don’t need a rewind to regret, We need a forward to forget, a fast forward which has the ability to make us forget our past, very fast. Help us!!!!!!!!

It’s your voice that can help, as you witness our suffering.  Our voice hasn’t been heard; only my sufferings have been noticed, documented and flirted with by writers like the one who’s writing this post and politicians with ambition and glory hunters and inglorious majority.

Forgive me for my demented muse – My sincere apologies to the faint hearted for this post, if it were to be read and removed once posted. This effort is in no way whatsoever aimed at hurting or denigrating the sentiment of death of a young boy. Only a trial of novelty, with a hint of honesty and regret.

I feel sorrow hits harder than happiness for those living life for a lost cause of materiality, which becomes immaterial on death.

PPV

An effort in support of the Tamil Eelam Part-1

They stood alone as everything around them was reduced to ashes and later on became dust, that was cleansed with the blood of fellow humans.

All they fought for was respect, to be treated equally.

Every voice raised in this endeavor was silenced permanently by death.

The only voice that remains is that of others who witnessed it from afar.

Of what avail is this fight for equality?,

When one whole race of humanity is reduced to indignity, In this war of profanity.

Can people witness this with integrity?

Aren’t we a responsible community?

Can’t we fight for Tamil Eelam’s immunity, as we too belong to the universe of humanity?

As we enjoyed every moment of this life, they toiled away in hideous hell while alive,

Looked down upon every second of their life,

Third rate citizens for most part of life while alive,

Never loved by their nation of domination.

Killed by their fight for equality and crucified by inequality.

They now walk alone, for the people who fought by their side, have been buried on either side.

They grieved in silence and were aggrieved in violence,

 Compelled to adopt tolerance and praying for majority’s cognizance.

They must have felt like Negros among whites in the era of colonization by the Britons. Enslaved by the fear of bloodshed, Shackled by the crushing majority and silenced by the murderous government. Will they ever be free to be common among the majority of commoners?. Is it wrong to revolt?

Separation of a state, is it too big an ask for a bunch of slaves to the oppressing majority?

Not represented in a parliament of dictators and represented by the dead revolters, silenced by death. For whose freedom just a miniscule minority is still voicing its support, by withdrawing its support at the centre (Tamilnadu). Though the agenda is politically driven, the opposition and the ruling party in that state have come together in support of the minority. While India still laments the loss of Bofors Scandalous hero, Rajiv Gandhi through its party Congress and denies to support the Lankan Tamils, whose representatives bombed a scandalous man. Is it right to hold a grudge against humanity?, served in the past by the extremists who’ve been completely eradicated ever since from the face of this earth. When the one hurt and the hurter have paid the price by death, Is it still necessary to hold the past against people currently representing innocence and fighting for equality?   

Acceptance of the current situation;

Knowing not what future holds for them, this darkness eluded them to eternity. As their path of enlightenment is marred by bloodshed. They’ve realized that their quest for light shall end in their coffins and politicians shall read their eulogy with fake tears as life beyond death nears.  As at every sight of light, they witnessed fight and were confined to walk alone in the night, as darkness was their safest bet to venture out in search of light.

The unadulterated baby’s mind and its relevance to adulthood.

The smile of a kid is a treasure worth all the pain a women undergoes to get him/her out of her motherly oven. The first time a baby smiles is worth more than a thousand kisses by your loved one.Unadulterated as it is, if you were to ask the parents, It would be for the silliest reason there is.
A kid doesn't think twice before smiling.
All one needs to do is to replicate the moves of a kid.
If you were to crawl to him, he shall do the same.
If you were to fall besides him, he shall do the same.
If you were to stand, he shall do the same.
An ardent follower of yours and one who would take the fall for you. If you were to throw him up in the air he shall giggle his way into your safe hands, as he trusts you beyond anything or anyone, no thought precedes his mind.

The kid hardly cries while he learns to get up after a fall. That smile after a fall seems to be for having fallen and learnt something new, comes unadulterated.
One doesn't need a master card to make a kid smile, he just has to think of things that are silly.
These kids are straight shooters, either they like you or they don’t. Diplomacy isn't an art mastered by them.
All he needs to sleep is the warmth of a mothers touch. Imagine how most of the grown up’s struggle.
The only beings while living their age of fantasy and tales unheard of, are blessed with the culmination of innocence and smile. One can see the divine in them. Their smile is something which everyone will cherish, without whose smile the whole world might perish.
Why are we cursed to lose that innocence, and why can’t we smile like these kids whenever and wherever?. It’s a question that reminds us of our glaring age and the concept of maturity that has crept into our ageing process. Adulterated is our smile, when we think long and hard and label the silly jokers “boring”. Why not unleash our childlike instinct and feel happier without too much of an impulse control?. Let’s unlearn the thought process of adulthood so that we could enjoy the divine creation of nature and its inhabitants. Sometimes let your heart speak for happiness and shut your mind at the same time.
Why go behind babes, when we can experience divinity and happiness pursuing Bab"ies":)

Everyone needs answers of happiness to questions of sorrow! Why not the answer be smile?

Dedicated to a baby smile
Pic Courtesy - http://www.brainrules.net/images/icon-happy-bw.jpg and http://2.bp.blogspot.com/bVXbLqYje5Y/Tk4JLEcV1zI/AAAAAAAAAYE/Tumq5xKColE/s400/kid.jpg                                                     

The Blame Game

Who’s to blame?

Neither me nor you.

It’s us.

How we always blame,

When every second we know, we are lame,

When we take someone’s name.

What’s in a name?

When its all in the game,

And the thing that’s affected is your name.

Any you’re ever ready to kill to fame.

When its all in the game. 

And you’re asked to name the name,

Would it be your name?

It’s satirical as to how we blame one another,

As long as the affected is other,

In this game played by one another.

Pointing to one another’s mistake,

When respect and credibility are at stake,

You give your take as long as the scapegoat is willing to take.

It is this blame, which you know is lame, as soon as you take another’s name.

That another’s day will come,

When you’re name would've stuck to his mind like gum,

And you know what’s gonna come.

It’s the blame game, you started it and he continued,

What’s in a name? Now you answer…..

It’s all in the game, as he’s ready to kill to fame,

As he tries to tame, as now its you he gets to blame,

And yours will be name, as you know who is to blame.

For it starts over and again……

It’s a lame game, the blame game.

:(You either get it or you don’t,

You expect me to explain it, that I won’t.:)

Just an effort on difference, hope it makes sense.
Picture Courtesy: http://www.newageselfhelp.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/blame-game.jpg

 and Google Search.

Wonder of Love….

How difficult is it to love beauty?

No wonder you’ve made me a common man.

How difficult is it to love the Holy Mother Teresa?

No wonder you've made me diseased.

How difficult is it to love Cinderella?

No wonder you’ve made me a kid.

How difficult is it to love the most incensed of flowers?

No wonder you’ve made me a bee.

How difficult is it to love a star?

No wonder you’ve made me a gazer.

How difficult is it to love an actress?

No wonder you’ve made me a fan.

If your heart were to go to the highest bidder,

Then I shall pledge everything that is mine, in my bid to make you mine.

For its only me who knows nothing shall be of value,

In my bid to attain your invaluable love in my life.

It’s a wonder of wonders not a day passes by without your sight,

For I am blessed that I dream of us every night,

That I always pray I’m never awoken to light.
Picture Courtesy: http://counciloflove.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/427109_280023325401920_179181975486056_685668_1432929739_n.jpg

and Google Search

Part by Part

(Trial on Rhyming to pass time)
Till life do us apart,

Let’s love each other,

Part by Part.

Till we are reduced to sand,

And there’s no one to lend me a hand,

As we wait for air to do us apart,

Part by part.         

Till it always remains that we play a part in our Children’s life,

Let’s not part,

Let’s live a prominent part,

Part by part.

Till divorce does us apart,

Let’s live to acknowledge our part in their lives,

Even if our love tears us apart,

Part by part.

Till death do us apart,

You shall stay in my heart,

Till it’s torn apart,

Part by part.

As you choose to move apart,

Of what avail is my part,

If my life fades away with you being apart,

Part by part.

The phrases “Till Life do us apart and death do us apart” had been used in a song or movie or somewhere I haven’t been able to recollect. It was these phrases that spurred me to write part by part.
Picture Courtesy: http://www.edvard-munch.com/gallery/love/separation.htm and Google Images

Good Riddance........

All those bad habits that one has,

That killed the thought to be good.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All those gossips that would amuse one,

That killed the character of the unknown.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All those evil thoughts which come with power,

That killed the hint of innocence, which would've stayed if chosen.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All the smartness that prevents,

In helping the under privileged.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All the laziness that prevents,

In quest for glory.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

The ability to frown,

At the sight of inability.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All the betrayal, cowardice, avarice, connivance,

In your quest to be numero uno, in that you know.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

The cowardice that helps one give up,

At the first sight of failure.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All the materiality that is lost,

In the act of generosity.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All the things valuable,

For matters which are priceless.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All the differences,

In matters of the heart, dealing with which is an art.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

All the negatives that cross,

While praying thy lord to sail across.

Would be good riddance, if one tries.

Of what avail is it, when one errs and he cries,

Unless it is for Good riddance he strives.

PPV.

Pic Courtesy: http://www.freshcardsgifts.co.uk/images/_lib/goodbye-and-good-riddance-leaving-card-3004220-470-1345238602000.jpg and Google Image Search engine

At the edge

At the edge of anticipation, lie their eyes that flicker for sight

And their minds that won’t rest at night.

At the edge of the fear of rejection, lies the pathway

to the sacred union of hearts, synonymous to happiness.

At the edge of your tongue, lie the answers

to the language of love unspoken as yet. 

At the edge of happiness, lie the two hearts that throb to communicate,

But the words won’t come out.

At the edge of oblivion, lies the result of unuttered words,

If these words don’t come out.

At the edge of sorrow, lie the broken hearts,

If the words never come out.

People say words unspoken are spoken by hearts,

The language of hearts though evident,

Need words to set a precedent.   

On the ledge, lie these words unuttered,

Still in anticipation of someone worthwhile to be spoken to.

Still on the edge, with words unspoken that create a wedge

and destined to stay on the ledge, lies the heart which yet has never felt. 

Pic Courtesy: Google Images and the name on the Pic - Kerol Azuan Photography

The Ghost that became a reality

He was always there among them,

unseen, unheard.

He used to speak to people, his voice went unheard.

They used to go out in groups, he was in all of those,

Yet unseen, unheard.

They played, they made merry, he was there,

Yet, unseen, unheard.

He had an opinion on everything seen and heard,

Yet unseen, unheard.

People used to listen to others as he spoke,

People used to see through him,

Still unseen and unheard.

There was this girl who always used him,

Whom he wanted to be noticed with,

She saw him, he saw her, and then she saw them,

He was forgotten, unseen and unheard,

As she was enticed by everything around him rather than him.

He was alone again and again and again and

Lost hope, yet unseen, unheard,

He cried alone, unseen and unheard.

He felt jailed, and then trailed and then nailed.

And then came an angel right from above,

That he heard and was heard.

Unseen he hoped to others, and seen by her,

She saw the beauty of his invisible heart,   

Heard the naive beats that craved for the companionship of a genuine heart,

At last he was seen and heard.

She fell for him, his humble and genuine intentions.

As she fell, he held her in his arms,

Married her in his heart,

Carried her in his soul for the rest of his life of visibility that she gifted him.

As his sadness vanished,

His tears banished to his memories.

The Ghost became a reality,

As his heart was solicited,

his happiness, felicitated, with a marriage of hearts that owing to his visibility, he celebrated.

So ends the invisibility that to him became invisible,

And his visibility, that was to her noble,

As to her, he was adorable.

This is an inspiration from Season 2, Episode 5 of “Enlightened”, HBO Series. One of my first efforts on poetry that is this long, hope you like it.

Pic Courtesy: http://stuffandwhatever.wordpress.com/2010/10/22/the-ghost-of-gays-past/ and Google Images

Real Disability of the Mind

Who is a disabled person?

One with the inability in thought? .
It is the person who fails to get up everyday, knowing he has been a failure now or all his life and lets this temporal feeling of permanence take control of his life. One who loses confidence in his ability to be alive while he lives. One who gives up living, giving up life for example.

Are whom we call "disabled", really disabled?

They are disabled by our minds to be enabled. The only people who do what their heart asks them to do. Their inability to be jealous, greedy, to compete for every damned materialistic thing, to connive to gain, to frame others for their misgivings, is what is connoted with the word ""disability"" by the disabled majority. Disabled to perceive their immortal ability of not giving importance to materialism. The only genuine friend a commoner can assure himself of and trust with inability of connivance or one who has been disabled with a noble heart to bear the frowning majority, at the very thought of disability perceived by commoners. The minority with the ability to forgive the fallacies of majority committed upon them.

It is us, the so called majority, with the disability to know their inability to perceive our negatives, who should be christened by them as "Disabled". They are differently abled to be happy in their own world of creation. They never fiddled with the thoughts or deeds of the majority. They are in their own world trying not to over-think to smile for happiness and not exert themselves too much for tears. They cry when sad, without the societal inhibition of a commoner getting to judge them. They sang aloud when they can and danced when they could, to be happy. They don't refrain thought, by wanting to be taught to be civilized, by the hypocritical common man. The God's own children protected to the core, by their human creators (parents) and the societal charitable hearted teachers of sanity.

They were never disabled, they were and are enabled by the divine to express. The only people living with the freedom of speech and expression, living true to the word freedom, in their own world.

When will i call myself a "man" of ability to empathize?

The day I can approach the differently abled by looking beneath the exterior, controlling my ability to frown at their pain, which comes all so naturally to human-beings. Recognizing the elusive independence that they crave for and i am born with. Realizing their ability to forgive their creator for differently abling them due to their inability of thought of riddles of a commoners life. Intoxicated by the beauty that he created elsewhere, he tried to be lateral in thought while creating them. He created them with his vision but forgot to give us his vision, Always making them depend on others, who spoil things with thought, for compassion and obligating others to do what they need done. That day of acceptance will be the day real empathy shall dawn on me and i shall be a "man" with the ability of empathy. For I've learnt to live beyond all that I can't have and live with that given, happily!

Let me sign off with this thought of mine:

I've always wondered that if life were to be filled with insane people as we would call them, there would be no betrayal, no melodrama, no competition, no jealousy till sane people enter the scene and spoil the broth of insanity and happiness, which to the sane is insanity.

Reference here is to Mental Disability

PPV

Happy without thought

Sometimes you can be sad for a numerous reasons, but many don't realize that one needs no reason to be happy. Reason out your sadness on your way to be smiling without a reason. Lesser are the chances to be sad, when you stop over thinking for tears and stop thinking to smile!

Equality in Vision

What would happen to the humans, if hearts were the only form of humans?
Though given vision, only visuals of bare-naked hearts can be seen, no flesh camouflaging the hearts vision.
One could not differentiate one from another, as they all come in the same shapes and sizes.
Then there would be true, unconditional and emotionally satiated love from one to another!

Gift with no takers

I can gift the world to you, if you were to ask.

But i shall gift my heart even if you don't.

For my heart is yours to be taken,

if not, it shall forever remain forsaken.

Just a thought that came to me on seeing the climax scene of Saheb, Biwi and Gangster Part-II.   

Pass Time Rhymers

1.You were a walker my dear and for the rest of my life, you've made me a stalker.

2.I walked behind her, she ran away,
   I walked behind her, she ran away,
   She had this way about her,
   Along with which she carried my heart away.

Art films, heroes, commoners and reality !

Art films not hits?
That's because they portray commoners, they portray real life situations, they call for an intellect to appreciate their efforts, not the common one though, real life celluloid dreams of intuitive and intellectual directors, who don't connect with the masses. When they do, it's seems to portray an ordinary man's ordinary life in ordinary circumstances, telling the masses as to what ordinarily happens, which they already know and are not  willing to waste their time and money knowing reality, when they can spend a few quid on chasing, dreaming and empathizing about unreal fantasies!

But what do commoners want?
"Victory be unto a common man in all demanding situations".
These commoners want a life of riches and fantasies they could afford  only in their dreams. They hallucinate their fantasies in those three hours spending a few quids, no wonder an Amitabh or a Rajni can be celluloid dreams for a commoner. These heroes live the celluloid dreams of a commoner.
Be it Logic defying deeds  by Rajni or an angry young man like Amitabh, who goes against the all powerful monarch, these two always come out on top. This fantasy is what a commoner relates to. Being overpowered and coming out of it empowered, defy logic and side with magic (some examples of their fantasies).
 All that a common man wants to spend his few quids on is for a few hours of unreal fantasy, which he wants to be a part of, the power of empathy for a hero against all odds,  though logically odd when an odd one observes is what a common man wants.


Common reality;

Look at the political situation in AP and TN, these celluloid heroes are given a chance by the commoners to be real life heroes, but when given a chance what would a rational person like an actor do?, 

Do what he's done all his life, start acting, get masses behind him, portray himself to be a real life hero and abandon common wants into a lifetime zero.

Now who wants to be a hero?
A commoner
Who is a hero ?
One of the commoners made uncommon by the common!
In movies ?
Handsome ones, without a goal of being original,  who want to be screened!
 Real heroes?
Spotlight shy warriors, who do something uncommon in reality viz. save lifes, fight against evil.
 Their plight?
Once famed and then framed and then later on blamed.

The Curse of Vision

     Ones endowed with beauty are born humble and gain name and fame owing to their endowment and gain arrogance. But the ones not endowed are the ones giving the former name and fame, for they adore what they don't possess and forget the priceless hospitality and the heart of gold that defies age, that they do possess.

     Of what avail is this materiality in giving after judgement, when one can shower love unconditionally.  God has negated us by giving us eyes, to ignore what can't be seen by the eyes and cherish that which can be seen by our hearts.