Saturday, February 26, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Happy Valentine's Day, friends. I hope you enjoyed my Valentine's Day story. This story is for all those people out there who are afraid to fall in love and follow the magical experiences love offers.
As I announced in the previous post, the winners of the Stylish Blogger award are:
Saturday, February 12, 2011
2. I am love, wrapped in a cloak of invisibility, still wanting to be acknowledged.
3. Though my people do not understand me, always keep a blind eye towards my dreams, thoughts and personal likes—because they want me to be like them; think like them, live like them, successful like them; and they do all this out of the immensity of their love towards me—hopelessly, often painfully, I understand them.
4. I am open to criticisms, not until I forget them, at least partially. I still dislike hypocrisy. And I do not know how to say no.
5. I believe in God and in His Son, Jesus, and I believe this too that each moment I work, I worship.
6. I am an Indian, but not a Hindu, not a Christian or a Muslim. I am a writer.
7. I love privacy and most of the times enjoy loneliness. But sometimes the latter conquers me.
The list is not complete. I have made a change here. I am not publishing the winners all in one post, instead I have decided to publish the name and link of the rest of the winners in the upcoming posts, along with my short fiction series "The Days that are No More"--one by one.
The fourth law is to contact the winners and tell them about their awards. That is what I am going to do just now. Off I go.
I hope you will wait for the next winner announcements in the coming posts.
PS: "The Days that are No More" will continue in the next post.
Monday, February 7, 2011
It was a time when his country was ruled by the British, and it was his ‘duty’ every Sunday evening to meet the assemblage in the General’s office to appease the officers with the magic of his poetry. There was even a saying about him that without listening to his poetry, the whole of the army base would perish in the crudeness of the reality and it was his poems that kept them alive.