Fly High

this is so interesting! Im excited for more!

Tue, 27 Nov 2012 17:40:26 -0500

this is so interesting! Im excited for more!

Sweeet this is so cool! Too excited for more!

Mon, 26 Nov 2012 16:01:35 -0500

Sweeet this is so cool! Too excited for more!

Omg this is so cool! Im excited for more!

Sun, 25 Nov 2012 12:08:54 -0500

Omg this
is so cool! Im excited for more!

An inward Journey.........

Sun, 05 Aug 2012 09:20:24 -0400

The Already 5 hours had passed by. And it was the 6^th hour. Mr. Jyoti was still inside his room. And all the doors and windows of his house were bolted from inside. That day, something had happened to Sri. Jyoti Shankar and as a result he locked himself in his house. He locked himself out from the world.

When the world is hot like a frying pen and it roasts us like fish fillet, we turn to divine intervention or withdrawing ourselves inward. And today he had set out in an inward journey. His eyes were closed and he sat in a meditative mood. He sat alone. He had closed himself within himself because he saw only pitch darkness outside. Behind all his obsequious/glamorous smiles he could discover only the pangs of a shattered heart. So he needed a healing from inside. Outer consolation was utterly ineffective because inner hollowness never fills up by outer consolations.

So He dived into the innermost pool of his life. . The inner journey was not tiresome. It was rather refreshing. The journey watered his roots with the elixir of life. And he felt light like a flying butterfly. He found an inner treasure of love. He loved himself because numberless times he had been broken into pieces and all the times he had risen like the phoenix bird. Gathering the scattered fragments he had always reconstructed his former form.

Today that reconstruction took place so there was the TURNING IN. And this turning in had always enriched life. The clouds of confusion subsided. He felt no more dependent on the delights and consolations from others. He understood the inner splendor of his soul. And that turned him into a SOURCE of joy. He was no more a beggar who begs the largesse of others.

He thanked the SUPREME for endowing him this amazing inner strength of resilience. He felt the aura of an inner light which lit him up with the realization that he was an undying spirit and the infernal machinations of the world could never hurt him.

He slowly opened his eyes and got a heart which was now full of happiness. The springs of self-appreciation had made his heart fertile and he now opened the doors and windows to spread light although there was pitch darkness outside.

"Seeing your photograph one of my friend wanted to bury his head in the lock of your pubic hair but I..."

Sun, 05 Aug 2012 09:13:54 -0400

“Seeing your photograph one of my friend wanted to bury his head in the lock of your pubic hair but I am a little gentler so I would like to replace my pillows with your breast.”

- from the pen….. APN

Photo

Thu, 02 Aug 2012 04:06:24 -0400

A Genie of Happiness

Thu, 02 Aug 2012 00:31:49 -0400

I am old. My skin has wrinkled. Expensive Cosmetics and thick make up can also no more fill the gap. My hair is all grey. Now a grinning ghost of loneliness dreadfully haunts me. That I am old is constantly reminded by my shaky limbs. I will go to the dust soon and the wait will end soon. But none is there to carry the bag of bone when my days are numbered.

Now I desperately want a “May-I-help-you-genie”. Where can I get it?

I carried my old and decrepit body to the biggest store in the city to get a QUICK GENEIE of that sort. But I was late. The store was closed and a huge invulnerable lock was dangling on the doors. But the shop keeper was there. He was sitting on one of the steps that led to the shop. Looking at me he asked, “Have you come for that wonderful GENIE?” I nodded my head in affirmation. Now he smilingly extended his hands at me and asked for the keys of the shop. I was astonished and confused. “How can I have the keys? You are the shop owner and you ask for the keys to me.” I bafflingly reacted.

He was surprised and told, “Don’t you know this special shop having the genies of HAPPINESS opens by the keys of the customers only.” I was bewildered and stupefied. He continued, “The people who adopt KISSING instead of BITTING, who adopt COUNTING their BLESSINGS instead of ENVYING and who adopt HELPING instead of HURTING are presented with THE KEY that opens the door.”

I now looked at the dangling lock on the shop and understood that MY PAST WAS IMPERFECT and so the remaining FUTURE IS INDEFINITE. And all it happened because I did not PRESENT the BEST in me to the world around me when it was possible. And now the world showed me THE LOCK and did not give the KEY of HAPPINESS.

On my return I looked back and gave a last look to that amazing shop with that ever-waiting shopkeeper. My eyes now fell on the glowing sign board of that shop and it told, “AS YOU SOW, SO YOU REAP.”

"-If I say I Love You and you do not respond then I won’t complain because I know in the business of ..."

Wed, 25 Jul 2012 12:28:42 -0400

“-If I say I Love You and you do not respond then I won’t complain because I know in the business of relation you do not have enough coins to spend.
-And what about me?
-Ah! Emotional people like me know how to boil their hearts and prepare soup with it and compliment, ‘ Oh! It is hearty awesome soup.’”

- Atmaprakash Nayak

"Those who do not understand me I readily undermine them and gently say with a smile….you are..."

Mon, 23 Jul 2012 02:32:47 -0400

““Those who do not understand me I readily undermine them and gently say with a smile….you are not lovable…. simply fuckable.”…..Atmaprakash @09438022164.”

No Compact Way

Mon, 23 Jul 2012 02:11:53 -0400

dearoldlove:

I’ve tried to write a million-and-one notes to you, but there is no compact or clever way to describe how you hurt me.

Kiss Locked Vs FB Blocked (a fictional construction) For so many...

Sun, 22 Jul 2012 22:37:00 -0400

Kiss Locked Vs FB Blocked (a fictional construction)

For so many years I searched her name on the social networking sites to discover her whereabouts. And ironically, her name too proved to be elusive like her. I hit 100s of profiles in search of her but they turned to be other than her. I had been perhaps a blocked entity to her profile……

However, one day I saw those speaking eyes and expressive lips half hidden in her silky hair. And in short, she looked angelic. I discovered her but I did not send her a friend request and before she clicked the “Block” button I downloaded her photos and saved in a folder named, “My first kiss” …….I sent her a short message and the next day her profile was not found……I WAS BLOCKED.

That day, I smiled and remembered the date and time when I was just KISS LOCKED with her. However, her one click on the “BLOCK” button now forced me to whisper myself the words…….”Terribly immature and heartless.”

Moral of the story: Faster means of communication is never a guarantee of bridging up the distance of hearts. Instead of COMMUNICATION it may cause more MISCOMMUNICATION.

WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

Sun, 08 Jul 2012 03:43:47 -0400

When a ball hit my testes, it had pained a lot.

"Your love is like the sea, it ebbs and flows. My love is like the soil, usually beneath your feet."

Mon, 18 Jun 2012 11:39:57 -0400

“Your love is like the sea, it ebbs and flows. My love is like the soil, usually beneath your feet.”

- Dear Old Love: Loves Are Like

"I took your virginity, but you took my heart. I want it back, please."

Mon, 18 Jun 2012 11:37:55 -0400

“I took your virginity, but you took my heart. I want it back, please.”

- Dear Old Love: Traded

Then, how can I become what I am?

Thu, 05 Jan 2012 13:55:54 -0500

So many influences incessantly hit upon me that by the evening I became what I was not. A heavy head, a mechanically beating heart and a biased mind made me a second rate human being that lived like a worm in a drain. I was lusterless. I was a dead star. And I had neither heat nor light and was slowly moving far away from my original self.

I ordered a cup of coffee in a restaurant and sat on the chair with my eyes closed. I had been to that place before and that evening I went there because I wanted to discover myself. My closed eyes saw numberless faces floating into my mental space and then spreading and thinning out, making room for another series of similar type of thought waves. I yearned for a calm evening with the moon in the sky………The waiter served the coffee on the table. Hot steams were curling up and a curly-haired beautiful girl, who was dressed in a red dress, was tossing her hair at the next table. The hot curling steams from the coffee-cup rose up to disappear in the thin air and the girl also rose up from his chair and mixed with the long dark crowded street. The girl went away but the mechanically beating heart danced with some unknown soft feelings. The heavy head started to fly with winged imagination. The biased mind rethought about life anew. And the second rate human being now shined like a bright star and he had warmth and light………..I stopped for a moment and once again felt I am not what I am. She was another influence and I was bright in her light. Then, how can I become what I am?

An undying spirit of hope......

Mon, 26 Dec 2011 21:31:51 -0500

On Christmas day Santa Claus comes with many surprises and presents. His distribution of joy and happiness is soon followed by the unknown future knocking at the door in the form of another new year. One year comes to an end and another year stands at the threshold with its colored wings to fly in. Many bruises, scars, wounds and injuries of the past fade out in the colored rays of an unseen future. And this feeling-good-factor at the start of another year recharges the batteries to take up the journey more sportingly.

The ending days of a year normally fill the media with much insightful analyses of the past events that had taken place round the year. But the serious analyses are generally mellowed in the festive zero hour and the new year begins with a hangover. The usual motion of the world continues as before. Life before and life after, remain identical.

However, 2012 has been doomed to be the end of the world by various sources. A film has already been made on this theme. Still, the hopes & colourful rays of a New Year overpower all apprehensions and we humans on earth are all prepared to experience the New Year. This is the human element that has always cleaved a way through all doom and gloom. It is an undying spirit imbued in the colours of eternal hope.

Om saanti Saanti Saaaanti...

Thu, 15 Dec 2011 23:05:46 -0500

So many wishes in one heart lay dormant. Ready to explode any moment into a tsunami……The strong urge to love and get loved…… the craving for a better living……the desire to get noticed among the crowd invade the mind and I close my eyes to feel myself……..The clouds sail across the sky and the moon beams through them. A leaf falls from a tree and I stand under it. My eyes are closed and the leaf touches my forehead…..the falling leaf reaches my neck, then my shoulder and at last lands on the ground skipping the rest of my body. A gust of wind carries the leaf away from me but I remember and will ever remember the nearness and warmth of being under a tree in a moony night. I open my eyes and the pleasant sky smiles upon me. Now I love the sky for teaching me the beauty of expansion and limitlessness. I stand with Nature in oneness. Like the leaf under the influence of wind I have drifted a lot but tonight I stand firmly anchored to the earth like a tree. I am rooted in nature so I feel strong and soon I will be green with thousands of new leaves. Wind will blow, the leaves will rustle and a cuckoo will sing a song of life sitting on it. Om Santi Santi Santi!

Rs20 did not make any sense because the small shop was shut.

Thu, 01 Dec 2011 13:12:00 -0500

His feeble legs were nothing but two slender bones covered by wrinkled skin. And those trembling legs weakly supported his old frail body. A torn shirt and a piece of cloth were his only possessions apart from the iron axe that he was carrying. His old age and physical weakness had told upon his walking. He was too weak to walk properly but he carried the iron axe and pulled himself towards the jungle. He had to collect some fire wood for his subsistence. A day’s hard labour would fetch him a head load of wood and a head load of wood would fetch him Rs20. The old man feebly walked away and vanished in the jungle.

The evening approached. The CFL-lit glittering market did not make much sense to that poor old man who had Rs20 by that time. But a small shop which was crowded by some rickshaw pullers and rag-pickers sold him some basic items like rice, dal and onion for the evening. The old man left the shop with a happy feeling that the day was about to pass and he was still alive.

Throughout his life he had fought a hard battle to survive. And till now he had to sell his labour regardless of his age, infirmity and time because life still lingered in him.

Next day the sun appeared brilliantly in the sky and sat in the west as usual. The old man after a day’s hard toil could collect the same fixed `20 by selling his wood to a wealthy household. He went to his known small shop but the shutter of the shop was closed. All the shops of that kind had closed their shutters because The Govt Had called for FDI in the retail sector. Rs20 did not make any sense because the small shop was shut.

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

Sun, 20 Nov 2011 10:34:00 -0500

The mid-winter cold wave had not stilled the village so much as the call for strike by the Naxals ( A terrorist group active in some states of India) had hushed up normal life in that village. All shops remained closed. The roads looked deserted without any traffic. And in the evening when the villagers came out of their houses and gathered in the streets in small groups, most of them talked about the acts of violence that had broken out in last two days. A cloud of fear gripped everywhere.

Both print and electronic media corroborated that a young village chief was dragged out of his home and was killed by some sharp weapon. The family members cried and the police remained holed up as usual. The public preferred silence because in India, which is the biggest democracy of the world, people are good at living like sheep. The leaders slumber in Air Conditioned chambers with Z+ security while the common man lives his life in a state of lawlessness surrounded by many man-eating greedy wolves. Still life goes on….

When the disappointed and terribly perturbed citizens open the TV hoping for a little concern from the so called leaders, they see that the vehicles of their leaders speed past a group of helpless people who have been the victims of a recent explosion. The cries of the wounded people for help cannot pierce the closed glass windows of the leaders’ moving vehicles. Still life goes on and the ruling party prepares for the next election even if one of the wounded dies prematurely.

Why should not the hopeless public stand with ANNA or RAMDEV? After all, they are the few who stand with us in the gutter but still look at the stars in the sky.

Result analysis.....

Tue, 08 Nov 2011 10:28:54 -0500

The first period of college! The principal enters the class with the result sheet of Pre-test Exam. He scolds, rebukes, warns and then mellows his voice and attempts to pursue and convince the students for a better result. But his mellowed voice no longer continues. Something queer happens. Silence pervades the class. He pauses for a moment. Then he calls the name of a Pankaj Mallick. He points out that he is short of attendance and that he is lurching at the bottom of the result sheet. In response to his announcement a boy sitting on the back bench rises up and swallows all the bitter words with his face downward.

The boy stands up putting up a grim face but a clear red rose gets visible on his bosom. The rose was a prominent sticker pasted on the front pocket of the college uniform shirt. The result analysis now takes a new direction. The red red rose attracts both anger and contempt from the principal. He shouts at the top of his voice. He shouts because he thinks the college uniform is tarnished by the display of such love symbol by a teenager. One of the lecturer who had accompanied the Principal into the classroom now goes one step further and plucks the flower from the boy’s shirt. The boy instantly loses both his identity as a student and his identity as a lover of beauty.

Like a whirlwind the squad of the teachers leaves the class. And the result of RESULT ANALYSIS is an intimidated class that learns to be blind to a Red Red Rose.