BRP_HDR_23, originally uploaded by sporadic.

BRP_HDR_23, originally uploaded by sporadic.

Blue ridge parkway

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Images . Burnt in the mind
Memories . A part of the soul
Days. Eternity …. Void . Deep
Life . An abyss .. a black hole

How long is enough? When shall it pass? Is time really the great healer its made out to be?

Purge the mind, burn the store
throw out the unanswered questions, the distrust, the deceit
coz only when is done and gone
will I be at peace ….. I hope.

No one wants to see your tears
no one wants to hear your sorrows
laugh and the world laughs with you,
cry, and you’re alone tommorow.

So chin-up dude, go wear your mask,
check the sadness and put on the facade,
Life’s unfair, agreed. But there are smiles to spread,
If you can’t even do that , you’re better off dead.

While England removed KP from captaincy, Mr Mallaya has removed the dependable Rahul Dravid from the esteemed post and handed the throne to KP, it is ironic, isn’t it. I mean, what is the rationale behind the move? Does Mr Mallaya believe that KP can inspire the woe-begone team, or does he actually think that this is the only way to KP’s (bloated) ego. To me personally, KP has never seemed that great a player. He is a bit of a showboat, and not my first choice if my team is in trouble

It seems to me that the Royal Challengers Owner, Vijay Mallaya, has put all his eggs in Kevin Pieterson’s basket. History has shown us that any cricket team dependent on one or two players, has rarely done consistently well. Seriously, tell me who else besides KP, Kallis and Rahul seems like the batting mainstay of the team. The challengers will need Ross Taylor and Virat Kohli to fire on all cylinders, but most importantly, they will need Robin Utthappa to get his head right and realize that he is what he is because of the game, not because of his wannabe rock star antics

If I have any sympathy for this team, its becuase it contains two of my favorite players, who are also two of India’s most underrated, simple, hard working and ethical human beings. Rahul Dravid and Anil Kumble

6:00 PM  *phone rings*

Dude 1 : Whatup?

Dude 2 : Whatup?

Dude 1 : So … whatcha wanna do man?

Dude 2 : dunno … u say

Dude 1 : damned if i know

Dude 2 : bitch !!

 

7:30 PM (still on the phone)

Dude 1 : See you in 30?

Dude 2 : get some smokes

 

8:15 PM (at a local hang out)

Dude 2 : bitch, I told you to get some smokes, din’t I?

Dude 1 : You are smoking, aren’t you

Dude 2 : yeah, but we had to come all the way here, whereas if you had gotten some, like I asked you too, we wouldn’t have had to come so far

Dude 1 : yeah (extends middle finger) …. So, whats the plan?

Dude 2 : dunno

 

8:45 PM (still at the local hang out)

Dude 1 : you wanna fuckin stand here all night … lets do something!!!

Dude 2 : like what pissbreath … lets hear the master-fun-fuckin-plan

Dude 1 : lets pick up some chics and party !!!

Dude 2 : name 3 chics who would go out with you?

Dude 1 : ummm… yes, there is this chic … no …. DAMN!!! (kicks nearest stone, realizes it wasn’t as small or light as he thought … profanity overload)

 

9:00 PM (STILL … at the local hang out)

Dude 1 : who was that?

Dude 2 : that was P, gotta go pick her up.

Dude 1 : and pray what are we doing after that

Dude 2 : prolly go party somewhere

Dude 1 : I dont wanna go with P

Dude 2 : dammit man, do you always have to be a prick. Now come on.

 

9:15 PM (where else … still at the same place)

Dude 1 : what did she say?

Dude 2 : Im not gonna get any … and all because of you. Asshole!!!

Dude 1 : *grinning* wanna drink?

Dude 2 : might as well

 

10:00 PM (driving around)

Dude 2 : man, aren’t you tired of this shit … lets go somewhere.

Dude 1 : Relax man …. here, lets put on some Metallica. That’ll make u feel better.

 

11:00 PM (at the local pig-out spot)

Dude 2 : *buurrrrrrpppp*

Dude 1 : you pig !!!

 

00:00 AM (no idea where we are)

Dude 2 : rockin …. friggin rockin

Dude 1 : I told ya man … I told ya ……………………….

 

 

NEXT DAY

Dude 1 : so…. whaddya wanna do man ….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Silver drops from the sky create colour on the ground, the scent of the earth titillates your senses, freshness looms and rejuvenation abounds. What do you think of when it rains?

She’s late, again! He hates waiting, but then again, she is not just “anybody”. He calls her to ask how much longer she will be, and amongst profuse apologies (again!!), she asks for 5 more minutes. He relents, as he always does.

She is here, looking gorgeous, and his heart skips a beat. Come to think of it, almost all unattainable things have this amazing beauty. The smile is genuine and warm, starting at the corners of her mouth and ending with the sparkle in her eyes. He loves the way he can make her smile, carefree and honest.

Off to the coffee shop next, of course. Why do they always go to the same coffee shop every time, he wonders? Oh yeah, because she loves the coffee there. He orders for both of them (yeah, he knows what she wants) while she goes outside to choose the ‘perfect’ place to sit.

The coffee tastes great while he listens to her talk about how much work she has, how she isn’t feeling that well nowadays, how the doctors are asking her to undergo painful tests, how a cheap colleague keeps hitting on her, how her mom was asking about him coz they haven’t met for ages. The conversation is warm and comfortable, nothing pretentious … and so are the silences, thankfully. He realizes how comfortable he feels with her, even if there is no conversation …. something that never happens to him when he is with other people. She talks, he listens. He crack jokes, she laughs … a sound sweeter than any other. He likes to see her laugh, he tells her. She laughs less often nowadays, and that too mostly when she is with him, she tells him.

The laughter is interrupted by her ringing cell phone. He laughs at the “Malgudi Days” ringtone on her phone. He remembers the day he manually composed this tune on her nokia cell phone. She knows what he is thinking and smiles knowingly. It’s her husband. He can tell by the way the smile cracks and the force with which she presses the “cancel” button on her phone. Too late for defiance now, he thinks to himself. The pnone rings again, this time she takes the call. The conversation, if you can call it that, is short …. she has to go. She is cribbing about the various reasons why she has to leave, but he is not really listening. He is busy, trying really hard, not to let the dissappointment (or is that anger?) show on his face. He fails, and she knows. They still have 30 minutes together, the time it will it take him to drop her home.

He usually drives pretty fast, but today he is driving rather slowly. So slow that everyone is honking at him at the traffic light. But he doesn’t care, and neither does she. He needles her about an embarrassing moment from the past, you see, he loves to tease her. She pretends to hit him. He pretends to ward off the “blow”, and then, for a moment they go back in time. Arms entangled, faces flushed, their bodies in close proximity, lips almost touching. He feels a desperate need to kiss her. She wants to too, he can see it in her eyes, which are gazing into his. There in that cacophony of blaring horns and flickering lights, they find a moment of love.

They break away. He starts driving again. His heart beats hard and fast, almost painful, and there’s this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hates his sense of righteousness, why couldn’t he have kissed her? He so wanted to. There are a hundred reasons (and most of them right) that prevented him from kissing her … but that doesn’t quell the rising sense of ….. disappoinment? guilt? sadness? loss?

Before he knows it, they have arrived. She has to leave. No promises of when they can meet next, but he doesn’t expect any either. He smiles at her once again, not knowing when the next genuine moment of happiness will come his way.

Living on borrowed time may have made him cynical, but he hasn’t forgotten how to love.

You will experience great sex within four days of receiving this email, provided you send it on to 10 people immediately. No, this is no joke, not unless you consider your sex-life a joke. Send no money …. send copies to people who need to get laid within 96 hours.

Don’t believe me?? Read on dude/dudette!!!

After he passed this letter on, a National Dairy Research Officer got his penis stuck in a cow-milking machine and had the longest series of orgasms of his life.

Mr Makhija in Gujrat tried to pick up a prostitute, but, because he broke the chain, was picked up by the police instead. When they searched his home, they found magazines of little boys which they showed to his neighbors.

In a suburb of Mumbai, Pawan Dixit’s trousers were ripped apart by an unsatisfied erection, 51 days after failing to circulate the letter. However, before this happened, a condom machine gave him three condoms for the price of one. (was this the consolation prize?)

Do note the following: Mr Shomit Mukherjee received the chain in 1953. He asked his secretary to make ten copies and send them out. A few days later he encountered her in a red-light district making more than he had ever paid her at work.

Santa Singh, who sent the letter on, saw what he thought was a rupee in the street. When he bent down to pick it up, a beautiful woman in a miniskirt walked by, and he got a great view.

Vishnu , an unemployed hyderabadi chicken choker, received the letter and forgot that it had to leave his hands within 96 hours. His wife then went bowling with his best friend and never returned. Later, after finding the letter again, he mailed ten copies. A few days later he got a wife and discovered that his old wife, who he thought was wonderful, had made a fool outta him by making him believe that you had to get a court order to have sex.

Ramesh Tripathi received the letter and, not believing, threw the letter away. Nine days later he spilled hot coffee in his crotch.

In 1987 the letter received by a young woman in Chennai was faded and barely readable, so she did not realize that this paragraph applied to her. She promised herself she would retype the letter and send it on, but she put it aside to do later. She was plagued with problems including herpes and other venereal diseases she contracted in her futile attempts to find Mr. Right in a singles bar. The letter did not leave her hands in 96 hours. She finally typed the letter and found a man whose nickname was “PHOS(put-horse-to-shame)”

Beware, however of the fate of the E-mail user at IIT Kanpur, that sent this letter to himself over five thousand times in one afternoon. Before leaving the computer lab a strange woman came up behind him, bit his ear and put her hand down his pants. The ensuing surprise caused him to stumble forward and cry out. As he attempted to arrest his fall by grabbing a nearby PC, a gob of spittle that had been flung from his mouth (as he cried out) landed deep into the inner recesses of the computer, all three (student, strange woman and computer) then experienced simultaneous Cyber-Orgasms of exponential intensity before exploding in a puff of smoking data.

You must distribute at least ten copies within 96 hours of receiving this letter. Those who do will find their love lives more fulfilling.

Those who do not will be doomed to one-night stands with mechanical devices.

Disclaimer: Most of this post is and email recieved a long time ago. I don’t know who the original author is, if anyone does, please let me know. I have added my take on it … hoping to make it funnier. Enjoy!!!

She stood at the mouth of the river. A yellow-orange ring of fading sunlight encircling her tanned, voluptuous body. She was perspiring, only partially from the warm sun.

There he was. She saw him approaching, from across the river. She wanted him, needed him. The urge felt by every drop of boiling, surging blood in her perfect, sensual veins. 

He entered the water, plunging headfirst. He too longed for her. His athletic, toned body slicing through the rushing waters, pushing through the river’s grasp to reach her … and satiate both their desires. The current ran fast; so fast and so hard that she thought for a moment that he might be swept away.

“Watch out!” she cried, and leaned toward him, willing him on. “Come to me! Push!”

His long, powerful arms dove ever deeper, ever more desperately into the inky watery darkness that tried to engulf him. The pull of the river was fierce; his struggle, his lust was fiercer, more ferocious, and he drew nearer …. inch by painful, pleasure-filled inch. Finally, the river loosened its mighty grip, and he pulled himself defiantly to shore. Her shore.

As he strode triumphantly, victoriously onto her firm bank, she could see his tight muscles had tightened ever more. He looked like hulking stone monument to manhood. She licked her lips absently, the wetness coming readily to her tongue. Her perfectly round, perky breasts heaving with each breath. She was wet, almost as wet as the river itself.

As he drew close, ever so close … he slowed his gait, postponing her wildly uncontrollable lust. He touched her, and she shuddered with luscious anticipation. He drew her in and moved his lips to her ear and whispered:

“Oh Darling, the water was so cold …. could we just talk?”