Wednesday, 31 March 2010

Tale of a copycat.....

Dear readers,
I received interesting information from an unnamed reader this morning. It is in my comment box of my February 18, 2010 post, “The Barman’s string”
and when I checked the link provided therein I was shocked to find its may check yourself too at
And, on further scrutiny I found two more posts in that blog—one being
 copied from one fine contribution of “Shas”
and another one
copied from what I wrote in the comment box of “Memories” written by “Shas”
I have requested the blogger to search for conscience....
What I write on my blog are just to share expressions, and they never go for publication elsewhere...blogging and publication are two distinct categories for me which are well classified, both in content and context...and, I don’t mind even if someone wants to use any of my blog-posts for any academic or personal interest so long it bears an honest intention...
I still believe that time is never lost...maybe, only delayed...for to learn to renew trust in truth...and I wish the person finds comfort of a guileless space of soul.
Let us hope that this turns out to be the last tale of a copycat....yes, of the last copycat !

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

To my dear readers.....

This life has, along its long branches of tree, offered countless leafs of moments for me. Some could comfort a few blossoms of dreams to bloom, and some more to let float its soft pollens of expressions to meander in smooth breezes of relationships. In its enduring presence through seasons, years and decades, it might also have laid some long shadows of memories upon the beaten path. They grow longer, slender and darker as time ushers faint rays of falling sun in through webs of foliages. Perhaps, soon they will outgrow of its own contents and approximations in an intense yearning for to lie just close to the soil that has, for so long, drenched its roots, treasured its fallen leafs and listened to whispers of its mirth and sorrow. In silence, they—the tree, the soil and the shadows—gently weave on its last wishes to merge into an inseparable oneness before evaporating into a grand expanse of darkness.

And, it all happened in its own solitary world unperturbed by presence of anything external to it. It all happily happened within its own pleasure and pain. Yet, someone observes. There are always some silent observers...yes, it has been as my father once cautioned me. I did not comprehend the truth hidden in his expression. It was so long before !

I smell the flowers again where the seed of this life was once tenderly held in the deepest core of love and care. I run through long lanes of remembrances to hear those sweet tunes that they sang for me only. I float again in that pool of childhood innocence. I hear melodies of joy of creation....I draw signs of my love on those trembling lips with my tiny palms. And, I hear again those murmurs of the past...there are always some silent observers.

In truest sense, I opted for blogging to share my travelogues some three years back. Yes, it runs still separately. I opted for another space here to write on whatever I feel...just a freedom road for my thoughts. I never expected readers, nor do I as this page has no specific objective of discussions. Although my travel blog and online journal are comparatively popular in trekkers’ world, I have enjoyed more in writing here than elsewhere for some interesting revelations that it has offered me with. I will mention just one instance to confine to what I intend to finally end with. After publication of a few posts under Kids Zone, there came an email communication from an US teacher. I was really amazed and happy to learn that she had some lively sessions over those posts with her junior level students and even shared some of their brilliant reactions. A few observations were so incisive that I had to subsequently revise my ambition to write serious things for kids in a more cautious manner. And, finely I learnt that neither the teacher nor the students were bloggers but regular readers. Yes, we are still in occasional touch. And, I can feel their presence through traffic feed counts too. This particular event of life led me to embrace my dad’s words intensely. I realized essence of it and enjoy listening to footsteps of those observers, more and more, in our silent trysts. I started observing them too...yes, truly and meticulously, for it inspirational value...I can travel to those far countries, distant cities, remote corners of this planet—from Norway to Australia, from Texas to Bangalore, from Romania to Hong Kong...and, for last a few weeks I can observe gentle footprints of someone...someone so far from Snow Hill, Antarctica.

I honour you all for being with my expressions, for within my inspiration and for I learn to trust you to explore trust in me. I rejoice in being silenced by your silent presence, my dear readers !

The epitaph !

Between leafs of time  S leeps the untold tale of life, In dreams of love and love of dreams. Smudging the margin in between The ...