Post No : 50

Of all the fancy topic that ran through my mind, this one made most sense. After all it’s the 50^th post that I am publishing. So I thought away with the fancy ‘Fabulously fifty’ or the ‘Now that’s a fifty’, instead just keep it plain and simple. This may not be a great achievement in any sense, but it’s the little things that we have to reckon in any long journey. As wise men have realized ages before, it’s the journey not the destination that matters.

So what new on this 50^th post, frankly nothing. But I thought maybe we could just get to know everyone better. To look at our journey together so far has been superb. To tell the truth when I started blogging, I never imagine myself writing this. Yes, I dreamt of this, but not in the wildest dream did I have the courage to imagine this moment. The fact is that this started just a fancy and slowly and steadily it grew in my heart into a bond. I have accidently but surely discovered a true friend in it and through ‘her’ I found many a new friends, friends who like to listen to the little this in my life, The things that does not matter to anyone, Things that hardly have a real consequence that needs reckoning. But, still you managed to listen to me, cherished my little heart as it bleed out its little secrets one by one.

So in this fiftieth post I am going to tell you what made it all so. What made it all that special to me and what made me come back again and again with things that I have always feared to tell? What was that little things that convinced me that some secrets needs to be confessed and the sins need to be lifted from upon me and most importantly how much it matters to write. But to tell you another truth, writing is worthless without a worthy and appreciating audience that can listen to you, and just as you might have guessed, I am really thankful to have you all. I consider it my privilege to been able to write for you all.

Just one little more thing to say, why don’t you all tell me something that I could respond to, to converse with, make a more enjoyable crowd around us than just write and read, would you like to engage in a conversation, a conversation in a level that is stripped of all materiality. I am Rupertt wind and I thank you all for having listened and beard with me with patience and for supporting me in the many ways you have. I thank all who have read and did not read my post, all who have praised and even more the ones whose creative criticism made this go all the way from 0-50.

The Drought...

It strikes me gravely, to write such as this. This is not ability to write that I share but the inability to do so. It is no story of real drought and hunger that affect many a millions in this world. This is the story of just a single person starved on the keyboard. This is no story, in fact this is the absence of any story that I would like to share.

I must be frank, this is just a weeping. This certainly is going to be a boring piece to read. It has no happiness in it at all. No happy beginning, no happy happenings and certainly no happy endings that I know of. This is the grim story of myself and my pen, sitting together to write nothing. Its our explorations in the dark unfathomable shadows that we fear the most. If the darkness is what that scares the least, its the fearfully personal happenings that seemed to carve in the most.

Its been sometime, sometime now that the pen and paper had shown any mercy to me. No matter what I start writing I inevitably bump into that invisible wall that separates me from making any sense of what I write. Either I end up making a hash of it or even worse I end up stuck in the middle with both my pen and my mind refusing to budge a single inch. Its certainly not the lack of ideas or topics, but its the matter of the flow, no longer can I caress the piece of paper with ease and it has started to show.  All those brilliant sparks die out the miserable death leaving me to fend on my own. Talk about being ditched by myself.

I do not know how long its going to be, till I can get a hold of myself and come back to the good old times. I can but only hope that it will all be alright, Anything more is too much to ask for. One thing is certain it has came back every single time it has happened to me. May be its inside somewhere in the hiding and if I look hard enough and let myself be inspired by life around me, then certainly it would come back one day

The Things Around You.

Its is often a bit too much to ask for to have the ability to observe. It gives great option to the things that you see every day, adding a new level of detail to the monotonous. The way one sees the world is entirely different from that of any other, this subtle but crucial difference make them poles apart on many a occurrences. May be this is what we mean by the word 'perspective'. And we do know that perspective changes the world around us. 

One way it can touch our life has a significance that surpasses Many things, your perspective can alter things in such a great manner that we owe a very large slice of ourselves to it. The way we see and interpret things shape the way we think, the way we think dictates how we act and respond to a wide range of things and finally the way we act out makes us who we are.

Many things may add to this making of a man and those have been debated upon for times immemorial and rest assured we wont be finished with it any time soon. But as of now that is not we started out with, have we ? I apologies to have got carried away but still that was worth it, like the good old times!

The ability to observe can in itself be a sin or curse, it becomes just a question how we come to deal with it. These sides of the coin I have seen just enough times  to have come in terms with. The large part of it may be just a prick in the hand, but some go real deep, sometimes a bit too much for your comfort. The things you see can bring within you a vibrant set of colourful feelings, from the light ones of joy to think ones of fear and angst. This vibrant world is put open to all but many shut their eyes to the dark ones and eventually the lighter ones too disappear. So naive are some that their life is but a gruesome monotone to live. Their is a world of rainbows they trade off for the fear of a dark one they have not yet been condemned to. Its such a shame that the fear of a few

It is even more creulsome to watch man after man chose not to feel, man after many take What is not life but a life that destroys any vibrate the word still holds. It is so sad to watch men waste the life of a dreams for the pretence of security.

But for the few who chose to see there is matter of great significance that they have to perform , they have to chose. They have to chose what to see and what to think of what they have seen, they have to chose what is that, that they have to take and what is that, that they have to un-see.  Those who whose to see the darkness turn up to be abominations of the sense those colours seems to posses., and the others who have opted to be on the brighter side of the place, gets to be the ones to set it all right again. To have chose is a quest of Philosophical value yet again.

The castles of greed...

Stand they tall on the face,

Of all good and all that is moral.

Stand they with indiscriminate disrespect,

off all pride the papers bring

like the dead, they fear to feel,

Thinking in shades of darkness.

With no furore they break coffins,

Open the vaults of doom for pennies and dimes.

Heart they have lost to concrete jungle.

With life so fast they doth not think.

Like roaches they spread the streets,

Running blind and thoughtless.

Doom they bring upon them and all.

Heard of no responsibility but to churn gold.

A life of rot and no foresight,

Cards need not tell what tomorrow hosts.

Bring down the chapels of greed,

Bring down the priests with no mercy.

Let not our tomorrow be ruined at the hands,

Of creatures of vice, devils incarnate.

Bring them not to the gallows they made,

Lock them not behind the walls they build.

Bring them to light and bring them to love,

Bring them to the world they destroyed.

Strip them of the coats and medals

Strip of the evil instruments of deadly sins.

Change them, make them see,

Give them a chance to set it right.

They are lies and they are sly,

They can out do the chameleon with ease.

Trust them not till they act,

For greed is too evil to leave so soon.

The castles of greed, proud and tall.

The castles in nations of meniality.

Bring them down and set them right,

The beacon of a newer tomorrow.

-          Rupertt Aryeen Wind

A Time for Reflection

Yes, I am disappointed, I am so disappointed. I am disappointed not because I lost, but because I know that I worked hard and this is not what I deserved. Life is not fair by degree of perspective, life if often the sly friend you have to live with. It would hurt us more to realize of this fact that living with it in ignorance. But that does not change anything. Does it? Every one of those time that you stood a startled witness to your dreams crumbling down like an house of cards. Life is not fair and I stand a stupid witness to its wrongs.

Nevertheless, that is no reason to give up, That is no reason to be pessimistic. Remember there may have been someone who worked a little bit more, someone who had put in that little spec of extra perseverance that you forgot. The universe does have its own ways, ways it does its doing. This may appear rather spiritual, but there is a definitely justice in the working of the universe. There is evidence everywhere how one compensates the other and supports the system in its own rights. We call it nature’s harmony. The definite abyss that you see may just be the exit from the dungeon. After all the night is the darkest just before the dawn. The imminent failures are but the final lessons to be learned before the inevitable victory, it is the duty of the universe to take care that the deserving gets the glory.

It is not for you hand the prize over is it? But it is in you to run the marathon. It is your job to stand up when you fall and it is of you to finish the race. The laurels and the parties will come along, strive for the last missing piece if the puzzle till the whole is done. Finish it, that is just the beginning of the journey. The things that went unfinished will be but a waste of effort, when you set your heart onto something, don’t you wish to see the dream blossom. To see it in all colors, with wings of gold, soaring in the sky like the birds of some forgotten fairy tales.

          

                                                              

There will come the time, when you will win, because eventually you have to win, eventually you have to be honored for your hard work. This is just a battle lost, the war still to be won. No time stand and mourn, no time to run for shelter. It is the time to rise above it all and fight, it is the time to win and this time the fate will be made different. This is all it takes to rescue the sinking ship and finish the votage.

From the Journals of a Lone Man by Rupertt Aryeen Wind:

The Burden of Command

To wield these stars and to hold his medals, to don this cap and to fill this chair. There are many things in life that may be happy but this is not one of those. To do is not an option, it is the only thing that destiny has in store. Either this or walk away. The latter is worse than death. The Command has its power and its status so does it has a large baggage that has to be dragged to ones grave. Nor the salutes nor the Laurels does anything to ease the pain, but persists an humble remainder of all that is to be dragged along alone.

There are times when the facets are to be put up, even when you desperately desire that you would be spared, you have to do it. The dictum is such that the failure to perform is unacceptable, even when it means to put everything you believe in to put at the front line. There are times when great men will be fools and hearts of steel will start to melt. No matter how high the principles be held, the man in the matter is but human. There are times heart remains a heart and there are times the head refuses to comply. But still the weights upon ones should bear down you as albatrosses from yet another tale.

Leadership is a quality that is tested and retested every now and then. It is not the making of the man it is breaking of man again and again such that he is immune to this pain of severance. To remain intact at times of peril is not an option, not when there are men who depend on you, not when they look up to you and not when they refuse to bow down just because you manage to hold it together, it is a necessity. The life that is yours is no longer just yours, there are other who willingly surrendered theirs to yours, just because they do believe it you who can hold their together with far more force than they can. They believe in you and with that come responsibility. You are not you anymore you are the culmination of all their interests and the holder of the higher truth.

It is not for you to not to fail, It is for you to fail as equally as it is for you to win. It is about you never letting them down, who willingly let themselves be lead. It is for you to never give up on anyone and hold it up for them; It is for you to see the light when the herd has lost its eye. It is for you not to believe but make believe the ones behind. To lead is a great feeling, but it is not about the celebration but about conducting it so that everyone can enjoy and in their enjoyment you can enjoy. It do feel great.

One thing that is asked of the leader that is most difficult to perform is the use of the whip. There are times, times you are given no other resort, but to crack the whip. Every single act of harshness you provide has a toll on you, every now and then you have to raise your voice there is a part of you sinking. To love is to be a good leader but to beat them up and make them strong calls for a great leader. He can inspire and so he can command, He can praise them and with the same hand crack the whip upon them. Yet at the hands of a great leader they feel no pain nor no grudge just the desire to correct themselves and lead a path of righteousness. Their feelings have to be upheld and they protected, but at the same time a mask is forced upon our face that shields the real one with a sterner perfect leader.

Yes it calls for a great leader so do should one selves, none is made a leader they are born, not from the mother’s womb but from the amongst of you and I. There is a leader in every one of us, a leader who shall rise when the time calls for him. When he is really to fly, he shall rally men and pick up momentum. When this do happen to you, call upon him , cheer him, cherish him because he not only can change you but can change the world.

Breaking Away . . .

Severance is a pain that we all invest in. Every day, every hour, Year after year we live in its shadow. It’s not something we choose it’s something that’s forced upon us. Yet chose not to rebel, we conveniently forget to fight, we take it on our shoulder and bear with it with finesse. The matter is delicate often so delicate that acknowledging it in itself is a herculean task in itself. The pain and anxiety that it causes is great, yet we decide it’s not time to give up hope yet.

It causes immense pain, but why do me, you and everyone we know prefer to live with it and fear the freedom the lack of these chains offer. Why does freedom, boundless and absolute, of colors more vibrant than the rainbows scare us? Why do we prefer the strong yet ephemeral fortitudes to the wonderful world of boundless possibility?  These are not the questions we ask ourselves every day; these are the question we come across in those times that we are truly left on our own. These are question we ask when we truly at our weakest. These are questions we ask when we lose those things we endured all those torture for. These are the questions we ask when we actually realize the transience of our ‘Perfect World’. The questions are harmless in a way, but they are the ones that truly know when to strike.

But no matter how many time we come across, other than those few who turn unacceptable to the society finds their way back into the cobwebs of comfyness they have already knitted for them. They find their way back as the lost ant finds it way back into the swarm. The allure and pseudo -opulence this world offers seems to surpass the many flaws it seems to possess.  We never even bother to ask ourselves whether this is what they want. Is there heart to torn open again and again? Is the abyss the best place they can ever afford to have?

Then again, is that the case? Even when you feared the inevitable, there was hope, there was pleasure and there was happiness. The little things in life that many preach, Aren’t they the ones that make life worthwhile. Life many not be perfect, in fact life may not be even fair, yet there are those moments in life that gives joy sans boundaries. Aren’t we living for those few moments, aren’t we working hard in the day so that we could return to the loving families. Don’t those weekends with the family make as pray every hour for the week to get over. Be it the sip of coffee or that one game, Aren’t they what we live for? Yes there are perils, there are dangers and there are evil lurking in every corner, yet don’t we live for that all these, these few little things that make life worth living?

But remember one thing dear friends, There is a better; life out there, there is a life where we can have the best of both worlds. There is a life were we do not have to make compromises and yet live the life that we dream of every single day. Believe me when I say there is a life where you don’t have to make up excuses to keep the family together. There is a life where love and fear, pleasure and sin, happiness and crime and Life and Lies do not come in pairs.

A Lone Man’s Journal: Rupertt Aryeen WInd

Surviving Today

Days are moving on at snail’s pace and to live through them is the most horrifying proposition to live with. The acts are not measurable in anything worth and time spend is not things gained. The methods are questionable but the object is clear. This would have been a better case had not been that the objective was to survive the day.

There are things you could do with your life that the whole world may deem as wastage of one’s time. But there are things that the world is yet to learn of you, there are secrets that are buried deep within you that the world doesn’t know exists. But one thing is there, one should be convinced of ones stand at the very least. It is difficult to convince others of a school of thought when one himself is in self-doubt. This conviction is what differentiates an action of need from an action of passion.

Passion has driven, and will drive men for many more years to come. It is this passion that has made the space and tech possible. The world when refuses to see you as someone, it is up to you to succumb to the marginalized life being proposed or you could rise above them and break free. You could do things with life that would show them that you are more than just talk. The world has ways, ways to kill of the things that it sees as competition. It is not a reason to not to try, it is but just one more reason to try harder and succeed.

Even as all that is said is said, there are time you become powerless, so powerless that you are confined to some mediocrity. There are places you find yourself, where you have to live through it, even if it is fathoms below your level of performance. To live through them is a horror for some. But for some it does something even more sinister. It kills them. It kills their skill and eventually they realize they are just that good. They refuse to see their potential that they once knew they possessed. They suicide to the demeaning life.

It is at this time, I stand. With thoughts creeping in like weeds. Thoughts that can take out the mighty and get them begging on their knees. The evil ones, the bad ones and the crippling ones. I know I am good, I know I am better than most, but to hold on to that single haystick in the polluting ocean of thoughts. Now that is a challenge. I can rise above it and be crowned the next king of France of fall below and drown to the dark depths of misery and monotony. The melancholically of this life is evident, Sun neither rises here nor the moon basks us in its radiance. The eeriness of a graveyard and the loneliness of the dark forests. With nothing but the skies to guide. To live through today… Hmm that’s the task ahead.

A Lone Man’s Journal: Rupertt Aryeen WInd

Mommy! Why can’t I have a Dog?

There is no surprise here, it’s not the first time that I have asked and It’s not the first time she said no. That doesn’t mean I can’t keep on asking does it? Even I wonder why I just don’t get a dog and not keep asking; surely I don’t get an answer for that too. There you have it, A question that I have been asking for so long and an answer I am as accustomed to as the question.

It all started way back, when I was in lower grades. There was one particular advertisement by the mobile company ‘Hutchison Erikson’ or Hutch then. They had a particularly cute dog chasing after a boy in it. The dog was so cute, cuddly and friendly, that I wanted one ever since. So the same evening my Mom came home and I asked her “mommy, mommy can I have a doggy”. She didn’t even looked surprised, maybe she added it to the long list of things that I usually keep asking. And of course she gave me an instantaneous no for that.

Somehow, over the years the idea of owning a dog stuck with me, I always wanted to own a dog and always kept asking my mom for one.  There were multiple times I asked her why she would not give me a dog for a birthday present or a Christmas present or something of that sort. But anything but doggy she kept on saying ‘no dog’. Then as I grew up I decided to take things on my own hand and said I will get a dog. She kept saying ‘no doggy kiddo’. Since she was always against the idea of a dog, I was particularly interested in having one.

So not us!

Other than the fact that I am a getting older by the years, I never got myself to get a dog. Every time I watch a dog on screen, I want a dog in home. My girlfriend had a dog in her house which she was terrified of, I wonder why they kept that dog. She has some kind of a phobia towards dogs. To tell the truth even I have no hope of owning a dog, whenever I decide to go get one I get goose bumps. My mom’s voice starts playing in my head. ‘Having a dog is huge responsibility, you have to feed it, you have to wash it, clean it, scrub it, you have to vaccinate it’ and so on. She makes it sound as if it harder to own a dog that to send a rocket into outer space.

Anyhow! Even I can’t see myself owning a dog in near future. With a dog phobic girlfriend, who will be my fiancé in less than a couple of years and if god permits my wife in another couple of years and a overly cautious and anti-doggy mother’s voice in the head. I can’t see any possibility of having a dog. After all breaking up with a girl just over a dog is not right, is it?

The Death of A Nobody

It feels ridiculous that I write about it. it is completely insane that you have to mourn about the death of a person whom u barely knew. In fact her death didn’t even get me thinking in the cliques. I had not thought of the afterlife, neither have I thought of the reality of mortality. In fact it hasn’t gotten me thinking at all. That’s why I most certainly must write about it. It does bother me that her death didn’t bother me.

And who was she? I am not keeping any surprises here; It is not a thriller, it just a true piece and I could get myself to write a literary piece. It’s not that I don’t want to, I always wanted to but eventually they turn up something altogether different. But of course where were we. Yes! Her, she was my neighbor, and that’s all. She was my neighbors, whom I hardly saw and I hardly talked to. There she would be most afternoons sitting in patio, staring at the evening sky. I always thought she might be waiting for her dead husbands return, I always thought of it to be very romantic. But, I suppose she didn’t have anything much to do than stare at the afternoon sun.

It’s been eleven years now, since I moved in. The neighborhood has quite and passive, it did not have the great athletes or the outlandishly gorgeous girls in it. It was an ordinary neighborhood with ordinary people living in it. It’s an ideal place for honest people making honest living, and the one thing that I adored the most since I moved in was… ‘No one cared’. But then there were some who did their bit and she was one of them. She never pried but she always inquired. In the eleven years of being neighbors she came calling hardly twice, once it was with the invitation for her grandchild’s wedding and the second, I can hardly remember why she came the second time. Most of her acquaintance was my mother which was on a strictly ‘we chat on the street when we see’ basis.

She was there ever since I remember my new home, she was there when we had the moving in and she was there when my granddad moved in nearby. Of course I never cared enough to enquire. But I do remember her; I remember seeing every day sit in her patio. She would be there watching the birds and the trees, feeling the wind and the air and when she had a couple of children in her household, she had herself an upgrade. Now she used spend her time watching them play in their courtyard. I know those punks; they were naughty and way out of their minds. They were so themselves that they could drive any man so crazy that they would want to change their permanent residence to St. Claire’s. Oh! For those of who don’t know, that’s an asylum. If u still don’t know what I am talking about let’s just say it’s a place where they keep people with very serious issues.

It’s understandable, on second thought not even worth thinking twice, it’s just obvious why she would just sit and watch them run in circles as they were orbiting some imaginary planet. But, that what she was and that’s all she was. She was the woman who sat by her patio every evening watching her grandchildren play. And then she dies, just like than one day, I get a call and my mom says she is no more. Oh sure she didn’t put it that dry, She called in and said “Dear, Do you remember the old lady across the street? She just passed away”. She said it subtle and simple, but still the same thing.

I don’t miss her and I could care less. But to tell you the truth, if that was all I wouldn’t be writing this anyway, would I? The fact is something feel void now, Come on, till a couple of days ago she was there and now she’s not. Every time I look at that house, it immediately strikes me, it’s not just something misplaced, and it’s rather something missing. The event and the relation might be much less stronger. She is dead and she is not going to comeback. It’s not hard to accept that, nevertheless I did just finish writing about it. I had no idea what I had to write when I began and I have no idea where I stand now, but I did write and I wrote it all. May her soul rest in peace.

                         

Remembering my Great Grand Mother

There was a picture hung by the wall of by old countryside home, it was a gray scale picture of three young girls and a grandmother. At first I wondered who they would be and I kept until one day when I asked my grandfather who those girls were? He held me up in his arms and pointing to the picture with other hand. He told me that, it was my mother and her sisters. I was so shocked for till then I definitely believed that they were born that way and they will remain so for all eternity. If I recall my grandpa’s version of the story I cried, but mind you, I never accepted his claims what so ever.

Years later I came in terms with my mother and her sister who are so big now being so little then, The thing that still caught my attention every time I  looked at that picture is old lady in the picture with silver hair and a grandeur that was there in her face. Her stance had a stature that I seldom saw in people then and before. By the time I procured all the courage to ask who she was it was then again years later. This time I asked my grandpa who would be by then asked all kind of stupid questions by me, who she was. And He said she was a grandmother and I was confused. I already had one grandmother and extended him the same enquiry with an ‘innocent smile’ (in his words). He smiled and said of course you have but she was my mother grandmother so my great grandmother she was!

From then own I heard a million wonderful stories of her and her life, she was never a stereotype and she was always a person I grew up to respect. I never knew her and she was long gone the time I was born. But still I loved her and I loved the picture of hers. There was definitely something special about her and it was evident in the picture. My mother told me many wonderful memories of her’s. She told me of her times with her grandma and how wonderful a person she was. All these stories I used to create for myself the great grandmother who was truly great for me by them. Great as in life as in day dreams she was.

Born in the dark times to a wealthy aristocratic family, she was never the one for stereotypes. When education and profession eluded women, she showed the courage to step up and break down the barriers. She learned and exceled and then became a teacher, the first one from anywhere in her area. But that was not all, my mother always told me how she used to manage her carrier and the large paddy fields she inherited and all her children all alone. She was the most respected one of her lands and the local folks used to come to her for permission. She loved her men as they loved and respected her back.

My mother used to tell whenever gypsises came to the lands near hers they would come ask her permission before they would go anywhere. This is just one among the many stories I heard of my great grandmother. There is one another story that I always loved. My aunt told me once that whenever they went to hers for the summer breaks she would have by then plucked all the mangos in her plantation and hid it neatly under the hay stacks so that they would be ripe and the three of them would go scavenger hunting for mangoes.

I do wish I was there to witness it all. Bound in these concrete jungles of modern times, these little good times are for memories alone and any one who dares to dream of it as anything else is bound to disappointment as always. Those are the good time that will never be back upon us and they are special people who will be born once and if u missed them then you missed them. There is no going back. Yet I wish that was not true.

When a bird came calling

There is no day such as this that suits the writing of a piece as this. A tribute to her, on her birthday, telling no more than how “I miss u to” her. Our story took a sweet twist recently when out of the blue I got a call from an old from of mine. He called me up and told me she had asked my number and he was going to send it to her. I didn’t hesitate and seized the moment to get cell number and dial her up.

Of all the decisions I made in life that one of those which I will be thankful to myself for a very long time to come. That single day from just another day to the best day in a long time. Now just one month from that wonderful day I am still as happy as I was that day when I called her up. The initial excitement might have worn off but then still I really do have her with me. It is wonderful how life turns around in a couple of moments. People who you believed lost forever, whose memories you tried so hard to bury. Whose funerals you vowed to miss no matter what, just so that memories of past will not be dead weight upon your legs for years to come. Those who you wish never knew so that you would not miss them like this, so that they would not come again and again in your day dreams reminding you what you lost.  And after all this, they still coming walking into your lives killing all those memories you made up and trashing your castle of lies to the lies like a house of cards. They come in as if nothing has ever happened.

But, even when all the above still stand true, I just realized what have I earned. I earned another shot at life, I got what many people never get in their live, I got a second chance. When I her again, when I saw her smile just again, I would feel my heart well up and I had to try it all to avoid it reflecting in my eyes. The moments of awkward silence that followed where not silence as she might have seen, but times of great conflict tried hard to hide. She might have felt it bad that I did not talk at first and found it rather odd on my usually talkative self. All those nights of frivolous preparation that I had of how our meeting will be after all these time. But one thing about all this I really liked, she was what I remembered her to be and wanted her to be. She was herself.

After so many log years, it’s wonderful to have back your friends. People who supported you and encouraged you in each step you took. The people who pushed you off the cliff, because you were you afraid to open you wings and flap it hard. She was the one who made who I am today and it was wonderful to have her back in my life.

Today on her birthday, I would just sit and think of all the time we spend together and all the stupid things we did together and now that she is back in  my life, I have a lot of new stupid things to look forward to. This story just got started; I can feel it in the winds and in the air. We have a million plots to go through before we reach the last chapter.

Happy birthday my dear !

The New Blogger Interface !

It’s been time, it’s like the breath of fresh air, and So long we have been stuck to the old and rusty interface that it really needed a change. Ever Since Google rolled out its new interface for G mail, I have been waiting for such a change to happen to the blogger interface as well. And now, it’s here. Blogger finally got a new interface for itself after all. There been rumors and speculation but lately I have been worried it would never happen but it’s here and it’s a cause for celebration.

A makeover just like G mail

Looks like Google been following a trend around its new interfaces, It showcases the same styles and gradients and colors quite like its recently rolled out G mail interface and its feed burner interface and of course not  to forget the trend setter, Google Plus. Google's been trying to strike up a similarity between its various services, talk about getting it all under the same umbrella. The Orange and cream theme style that popped up with the Google plus, which then has been extended to G mail provides a clutter free interface to work on.

The old way of too much things in too little space has been changed to a well-organized yet feature rich interface. The primal lack of the interface as pointed out during its implementation in the G mail is the lack of interface customization which is it still suffers from. Google though makes the new look available does not gives users any more control than it has been in its previous interfaces.

Dashboard and Page overview

The new dashboard is cleaner and much better thought of than the previous one. They have managed to lose all the extra buttons and have ended up grouped together in a single drop down menu reduced to a small cleanly placed along with the page link.

Every page now has a little overview tab that is by default the greeting window for any page and shows all the recent facts about the particular blog. Especially the new page view and the associated features that have been added under the Stats have been fairly useful. These have managed to provide the power of Google’s analytical skill ones solely provided through the Feed Burner now easily accessible.

Greater Control

The main pop out thing about the new interface is its ability to provide greater control and flexibility to any blogger. Any person who has been using Blogger from time to time for some time might most probably find the new interface refreshing and very easy to use. The well organized and carefully placed into a sleek tab set. There nothing catchy around the new interface just old school elegance.

The new user offers greater control in the sense provides a bigger and well sorted tool set especially for Layout planning and Template management. Comment moderation and Stats has been updated. Stats have been a newly added feature into Blogger which has undergone tremendous improvement over its former versions.

Simpler Writing Area

The writing area now features a more text editor look that the previously cramped space provided. The new Blogger provides a cleaner and faster multimedia upload tool and has undergone a revolutionary change in terms of touch and feel. It has been much more properly put with the writing area extending to the full screen size but no significant improvement has come over the tool set, sadly it’s the same.

Earnings and AdSense

The Earnings and AdSense column has been cleaned up along with the blog. It now offers a seamless interface. It also connects better with your AdSense account and collates the data better than in its previous avatar. Its ability to have more access to features once limited to Feed Burner service increases the user experience a notch up.

Same Old Story in a new Box

The same old story in a new box that’s all about the new Blogger interface in its totality. The new interface has managed to do what it did to G mail to Blogger as well. It has managed to de clutter the interface and makes the overall experience great. But that to the limit the innovations has been limited to. Other than greater cross feature support with Google’s Feed Burner service nothing new has been released along with the theme release. No new gadgets, No new features and absolutely no new anything worth noticing at all, just a shiny new interface.

Google’s janitors has managed to listen to the user’s long term needs and cleaned up the Bloggers former interface which was in use for quite a lot of time now and was crying for a change. But sadly Google has only managed to clean up the surface, the contents have managed to stay the same irrespective of the upgrade. May be sooner Google will be able to give us a nice little upgrade over the old tools.

Google have done a great job with the new interfaces and deserves the praise for that never the less. Hail Google !

The Story of a Kiss

" The day was dry, moments wary ,

and then there was the kiss.

The sun shone and clouds gone,

and there was the Spring

Butterflies had come, birds sang

and then there was the KISS. "

This is the story of my very first kiss, of how our lips wrote a new story. The very first of our secrets was born that day, when my lips touched the soft skin of her cheek and the next was born when hers made the slightest impression upon my temple. To lock your lips in a frantic desperate kiss may be exciting, but this was exquisite. The kiss was classy, so was her smile, the way her eyes lit up and the faint lines on her face popped up adding the lightest rosy tinge to her pale face. She was beautiful as ever then.

The details are the part of a very precious memory, something that will be remembered no matter how life turns out to be. Those were moments of decision, the moment when you decide is it the one you will live with. I have heard from somewhere that when it comes to love whether you are going to go the length no matter how long it turns out to be is the true test of your love. Kissing is sure the way to find that out, Kissing is not just about passion and tongues getting twisted in a cannibalistic macabre, but it is the like the dew drops settling upon the rose petals even without waking up the little flower.

I do miss the days of these prince princess kisses !

The thing that most specifically appeal striking to me about my first kiss is that it were at a time when we were still more of friends and less of lovers. May be cupid saw his chance then and moved in, as i discovered the most beautiful girl in the world as she cuddled by me. These kisses were more than just kisses, they were exchanges, excahnges of soul and feelings and some mystical bond was strengthening slowly in the deapths of our hearts. We were getting bounded by a bond stronger than anyother, yet so invisible. Thus the kiss had grown and had united us in one

As I sit now and write about it, I can see the events of that wonderful day unfold before my eyes, like a movie being played back. I can savour the scent in the air and the ambience that were set that day. The details sit at the cosiest part of my heast to write about, but one thing can be told. The kiss was magical, too good to be true. The smile that broke after that, striking a curve through her delicate lips and the way her eyes lit up and wetted those were the things for the most precious of my memories. I still remember her face that day like it was just moments ago. Those were time when moments stopped and universe howered. 

True love may meet but once and to have it is one thing but to recognize it when it is right there, in front of you is another. They call it star crossed and we call is 'kismet'. Love is always adorable how it pans out affects anything and everything around you. you see flowers and butterflies you have never seen before, its not that they were not there but you were too narrow to notice. Love widens you up and a kiss can tell you whether you are in the love you want to be in.

Ever since my first kiss and the love of my life ( not the first one ) I have had the most bedazzled life ever. Yes, Mine is still a short time on earth but i belive life is measured not in years but by the life lived. Belive me when I say my last year with her was the best I ever had and it still looks to get better only. One year, It just has been one year but the spark is not gone and it feels like its been ages since in love. Wow! wonderful was what that kiss did to me.

This is the story of my very first kiss and it is not going to end anytime soon. As new stories are wriiten and new character are born I should tell you this. Keep your eyes open wide and heart wider, you never know when your star croosed other choses to pay you a a visit.

Way to go Jobs!

These are difficult times and Apple sure is going to miss their man at the helm! When Steve Jobs announced that he doesn't see himself fit to perform his duties anymore as the CEO of apple, they just did not lose another employee, they had lost the one man who had done it all for the Apple. If Apple is Apple today, then Steve Jobs made it so. Every single one of their reverberating products were the brain child of this man,, They call him their greatest innovator and the world calls him the greatest business man in the world.

An Apple without Jobs that is something to see! With Tim cooks who was is poised to step into the chair that was once donned by a modern day legend, things might just get interesting. What is to be watched is how a soft spoken simple man like him going to handle the vessel that was till then handled by a larger than life, fearless and instinctive person like Jobs. With android already having over 500K activation daily, Apple has some serious things to handle in the coming days.

Steve was a savior for Apple at many a times, saving a near disaster turn of events after Macintosh and the liaison with longtime nemesis Microsoft. Steve jobs was able to persuade music companies to release tracks over iTunes even when the world of music producers were scared to death of pirates. With apples every new release the Jobs touch was evident. A perfectionist who believed that their products must be the best there is to date. There were even tales of Jobs firing people over their bogus and not so good ideas.

Apples products under his tenure were not just run away successes; they were segment definers, fashion statements and things that you can’t live without. They opened up arenas that were previously unknown, they beamed ideas never thought of before. The music Player was there but iPod was different, so different that iPods are never called a mere music player.

Did you know! That Steve was the one who actually invented personal computer, the personal computer with the mouse and the windows as we know it today came from his gifted mind. The release of Apple II the first practical personal computer was their first ever runaway success and then followed the Mac, iPod, iPhone and iPad. The many more products that they have lined up for the future are going to be just as perfect.

This is not something altogether unexpected by any, Steve was ill for quite some time now and it has been reported that her himself has started feeling the ailments that he thinks it would interfere with his ability to lead as he did till then. Like any great leader, instinctive and responsible, he stepped down when he felt it time. He had spent his life time nurturing this institution, that at a time when it is standing tall with all its glory. What greater time to bow out than in the zenith of glory. He leaves Apple a grown firm after guiding it through childhood and teenage. He has decided it’s time to let go

With or without Jobs Apple is going to reap up money, their market share is unprecedented by anyone and they have what it takes to keep it that way. It is to be seen what the stepping down of Steve has done to the Apple Inc., but expecting too much reverberation is futile. A mature firm like Apple would not have much of a shaking from this unfolding of events. With Steve still in the board of directors apple knows where to turn to in times of trouble






Best of luck Tim Cooks on your new job. Filling his shoes may not be easy , But if Steve sees you fit we have little worry !