randomized

Hello everybody (basically the four and five awesome generous people who come to read my posts here), I am feeling quite nice and carefree today so I am going to be pretty careless about those tight scripts which I usually stick to, which is just another way of saying that I am not going to be a prick and will write what comes to my mind(mostly), except for the questions that I am going to ask the person who gets the award here because I've already decided on them. So yeah...well mostly. ;) And yes, there will be smileys. Lots of them I suppose. :P      <- See... So, coming to the point, that is, awards. Yes, as difficult as it is for my own self to believe, I actually got awards for this blog of mine, which is, to say the truth, a truly awesome amazing deal and I felt like flying in total excitement when I got my first award :D :)). I shall talk more about it below and without wasting more time and space I shall get down to list the awards that I got, ...

© Kaz Watanabe If I tell you Jim what I saw today would you be excited and breath in & sway If I say, I saw a girl in the drizzle  the time when stopped and magnified in the mizzle If I say, she looked like, a droplet of dew like an angel in this  world born anew

This post was part of the meme ' Theandric Thursday ' , a fortnightly feature hosted by  Ashna Banga . The dictionary definition of 'Theandric' is 'Relating to the joint agency of divine and human nature'. If you're interested in participating, write your own Theandric Thursday post and drop a link on her blog(link above). You can write fiction, real events or a mixture of both. You may use the image on the right for the same. Happy writing. :) *** "But why this sudden love for the library that you have to go today", my mom said. "You know ammi , sometimes, you just have to do what you have to do, because errr ... you-have-to-do-it" I said the last words more as a question than a statement. She stood staring at me, definitely calculating my chances of ever becoming normal(as she would say) one day. "I mean, I just have a feeling, you know, of going there ... from inside." "Why don't you ge...

Dear Mr. Khan           It is not very often that someone or something comes about and shakes a section of public alive, from the deep caverns of inherent slumber. Even rarer it is, if that someone or something succeeds in appealing to a relatively wide bracket of perception in its purpose and brings hence a general consensus. Your show does both, and with prowess and I am really happy for that.           But you see, being a cynic that I am, what vexes me the most is the act part of all that your show is. I don't care about other criticisms.

Note: This is very long  story . I would suggest you to read it when you have enough spare time. *** A scene forms in front of my eyes, slowly, as if I am rubbing them open after a long satisfying sleep. I am sitting at a bus stop somewhere in the southern, quieter part of Delhi. The road crossing through, a narrow two-lane track, looks washed up and extremely clean. The cool air carries a strange enchanting mysticism. The golden rays coming from the newborn sun, filter through the moving clouds in a dancing fashion and make the wet road and steel railing glow up. The bus stop is peculiarly, of a small and high frame. Unlike any I have ever seen. A flowering, old, low bent tree stands on the side of the bus shelter. Fresh yellow & red jasmine like flowers hang from it. Some lie on the shelter foot and road too, shining in the warm sunlight. It smells like a mixture of wet earth, flowers and a sweet fruit. I feel there is a rainbow somewhere behind th...

This is the second part of the story. You can find the first part here . The day must have been the worst that season. The heat was plummeting and whichever direction you see, there was nothing but hot-ruthless sand. Perhaps this was the reason why a pigeon, a hen would be so lucky to have found a small oasis in the middle of a desert. It lay motionless in the shade of a date tree on the cool wet sand. It was unconscious but breathing. Occasionally, the wind would send some sprinkles of water from the pond on its face, but it was to take hours before the bird could wake up. On a different part of the desert, a spider was not so lucky. It sat motionless beneath a layer of sand hidden, hearing thuds from a stick being banged around it hastily. When it saw that this style of defence would soon be rendered futile, it sprang out of the sand and started hissing at the boy who was now wielding the stick in a threatening pose. Taken from Google.

The desert was dry and unforgiving during this time of the year. The temperature would reach up to 50 degrees  at the cusp of sun's movement, changing straight out into freezing stillness at nightfall. Very few dared to stray in these extreme conditions outside. So, seldom were humans or animals seen outside and crawlers like snakes & spiders were only drawn out by their need of food.  Nomads lived in small scattered tribes or clans around the desert. They made their living by trading, and transporting goods in the trade route that passed from there. Mostly, they kept goats and camels, for dairy purposes. Taken from Google