tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22595406058371151412024-03-13T23:59:58.014+05:30Vanity Moments BlogThe frank ways of telling liesTomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-70287155078464283062021-10-28T16:37:00.011+05:302023-09-26T22:26:40.523+05:30Contemporary Adaptations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes Stories<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">The modern-day film and TV adaptations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories bring great excitement to the minds of spectators who are familiar with the original Canons of Sherlock Holmes. The filmmakers often claim that they are reimagining the life and methods of the much-loved London-based ingenious detective and his biographer cum partner Dr. John Watson in the contemporary life scenarios. I feel that such claims are merely a way to get more viewership, as I usually find that the reconstructed characters resemble Holmes and Watson only a little, apart from the mere dramatic aspect that they bear the names Holmes and Watson. In other words, the modern-day Sherlock Holmes is just another detective with the same name, that’s how I felt. When I was watching BBC's Sherlock in which Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman enact the fictional duo, the degree of connection I could make between the original and the contemporary versions was nothing accountable.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think that the aforementioned case is more apparent when considering another contemporary retelling of Sherlock Holmes and Watson I am watching currently. What I watch now is the series 'Elementary'(on Amazon Prime) aired originally on the American CBS channel during the same period as BBC's Sherlock. The title is a direct reference to a catchphrase Sherlock Holmes used multiple times as per the original stories. [SPOILERS AHEAD]In the 'Elementary' version, Holmes is living in New York and working with NYPD (instead of London's Scotland Yard). 'Elementary' portrays a young London detective, played by Jonnie Lee Miller, who had made good fame working with Scotland Yard, who has recently moved to New York to recover from drug addiction due to the death of his love interest 'Irene Adler'. It is true that the Canons of Sherlock Holmes (i.e., 56 Short stories and 4 Novels, written by Doyle) show Miss Irene Adler as a woman Holmes admired because of her extraordinary intelligence. Apart from that, a romantic connection towards any woman is not imaginable for a Victorian Holmes considering the picture Doyle presented to our minds. In Elementary, Irene Adler is killed by Holmes's arch-rival Moriarty (James Moriarty as per the Canon). The twist is that Adler is not killed, she was Moriarty (Jamie)herself, who was simply faking her death to distract Holmes from investigating her crimes.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another crucial difference is that Elementary's Watson is not a male, but a female character by the name Dr. Joan Watson. Portrayed by Lucy Liu, Elementary's Dr. Joan Watson came to live in Holmes's place as a sober companion, someone who is employed by his father to speed up the recovery from drug use. They both share a platonic affection, which is something delightfully conceptualized by the show producers and remarkably done well by both the actors. In the original version, Watson is Holmes's biographer, and in the BBC's Sherlock also, the Watson character is doing a little bit of the biographical work through blogging (which is still available at http://www.johnwatsonblog.co.uk/). In Elementary, Dr. Joan shares an equal responsibility in solving crimes with Sherlock Holmes at least in some cases they investigate together, instead of becoming a simple biographer.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think BBC's Sherlock features a closer portrayal of the original plot, although it was not a favorite of mine during the time it was aired. The only episode I really liked was the one titled 'The Abominable Bride' as this episode featured the actual period settings as per the canons. Whereas, the 'Elementary' version poses a scenario that is almost impossible to imagine as the original Holmes, although I like this version better. I think Miller's Holmes is a better enactment of a modern-day detective, who is genius and nerdy at the same time. If Sherlock Holmes lived in the present day, he will behave more like Miller's version, in comparison with Benedict Cumberbatch’s, whose was more like a magician.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">In addition to these series, another modern-retelling of Sherlock Holmes I watched is the Japanese 'Miss Sherlock'. The producers of this series have quite brilliantly placed Sherlock Holmes and Watson to a different culture, and to a different time. In addition to that, they swapped the genders as well. In the Japanese version, Sherlock and Watson are both females, and they came to live together because of the necessity to share the rent of an apartment, just like the canons. The Sherlock character's name is Sara Shelly Futaba, who is nicknamed Sherlock by her friends in the police department because she offers great assistance to them in solving crimes. Her flatmate is Dr. Wato Tachibana, who is called 'Wato-san'(Watson), as 'san' is a respectful form of address in the Japanese language.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">I would like to see the canons of Sherlock Holmes stories serialized in their original period settings by somebody sooner than later. Last time when it was done by UK's Grenada Television, they produced a selection of the stories featuring Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes. IMHO, Jeremy Brett's portrayal is the most accurate one, although there are plenty of arguments against this view.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">PS: The actress Yūko Takeuchi, who portrayed Sherlock in the Japanese Miss Sherlock series committed suicide a year ago, that’s an unfortunate postlude.</span></span></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nLYMHRgFGXA/YXqDdjd7avI/AAAAAAAAdZU/Kk1gCr2K-aYSB1f3PXaQJ5oS17PXTdRiACLcBGAsYHQ/s960/blog.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nLYMHRgFGXA/YXqDdjd7avI/AAAAAAAAdZU/Kk1gCr2K-aYSB1f3PXaQJ5oS17PXTdRiACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/blog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"></div></div>Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-26817406123227928102016-12-12T00:39:00.001+05:302021-10-13T15:50:58.728+05:30Water Dowsing – Magnetism in Humans<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
While on a visit to a family friend, I was told by the most senior person in the hosting family about his capability for water dowsing. He said he helped many families to locate water by directing them to the spots in their homesteads where they could possibly find underground water if dug a few meters. According to him, he had a special gift which helped him to locate the presence of ground water following this method.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hbNttmBjY4I/WE2jXJqKRGI/AAAAAAAAH64/0eycFvBYBc8O7hnA6XMi0QTRDg-S4mw-gCLcB/s1600/water-dowser-drawing.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hbNttmBjY4I/WE2jXJqKRGI/AAAAAAAAH64/0eycFvBYBc8O7hnA6XMi0QTRDg-S4mw-gCLcB/s320/water-dowser-drawing.jpg" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A drawing of water dowser</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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This method is popularly called water dowsing, apart from other names like water divining, water witching, or simply water finding. This is a widely used method of finding the location for water-wells. In our place, there were special persons who were known for their ability to use a ‘Y’ shaped water-dowsing rod coupled with the magnetism in their bodies, to locate the presence of water underground.<br />
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Science calls this method fake, and classify it under Pseudoscience. But we can’t treat everything baseless; due to the inability of the scientific methods to give an explanation for a certain phenomenon. I hope science would at least in a later period find a reason for this particular magnetic capability of a few of selected human beings.<br />
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Coming back to the respectable and elderly person who told me about this particular ability – in his lifetime, he had used this method around thousand times to trace water. Not a single suggestion from him went futile, as per his claim. This person is a school teacher, so there rests a certain amount of credibility in what he says. He also said he could not use this method more than three to four times a day, as excessive use of this would affect his heart.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xhQxImnD7zE/WE2jXMuJyiI/AAAAAAAAH68/YHhh_zkhg80Np8klLoF62RH4GEQg6LyOACLcB/s1600/water-dowsing-rod.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xhQxImnD7zE/WE2jXMuJyiI/AAAAAAAAH68/YHhh_zkhg80Np8klLoF62RH4GEQg6LyOACLcB/s1600/water-dowsing-rod.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water dowsing rod. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The water dowsing method includes the use of a dowsing rod, which is Y-shaped as written above. The two branches of the rod are held using the thumbs of both the hands by keeping the tail branch of the rod parallel to the ground. By maintaining the stature, the dowser (he is also called a diviner as he uses the divining rod) walks along the homestead. It is said that when the dowser’s magnetic capacity traces the proximity of groundwater, the tail branch of the dowsing rod would move towards that location. Taking clue of the rod’s movement, the dowser moves to the location where he can feel the vibration of the rod in the maximum. This final location is where the water can most easily be found. The water divination works this way.<br />
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Apart from the direct, face-to-face account by the aforementioned elderly person about his talent, I also had happened to hear third-party narratives about persons with same water witching abilities. As I heard, when asked about the source of their talent, they all attributed their special gift to the effects of magnetism. Moreover, in all cases, the dowser has to employ an apparatus either in a rod shape or in other shapes like the pendulum to make use of their bodily magnetism.</div>
Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-2567299396047565712016-12-04T01:59:00.000+05:302016-12-10T20:25:30.597+05:30Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street | Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Private Detective Sherlock Holmes – from my humble point of view – has been the most influential fictional character among all I read, and everything I watched. Unless I read him, I suspect if I would have attempted even blogging. I am unable to put in words the mystic feeling that such a little coinage like ‘221B Baker Street’ brings to my mind. I used to often hear or read from Sherlock buffs that the apartment where he and Dr John H Watson supposedly lived actually exists there and the same address receives a lot of letters from potential customers on a daily basis. By these specific reasons, 221B Baker Street remained on top of my must-see destination list.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rOF-lyipt_8/WEMcJnb54II/AAAAAAAAH3A/hcCRksY7CCIafh31PRwZvFjfshJS5WgiACLcB/s1600/sherlock-holmes-silhouette-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rOF-lyipt_8/WEMcJnb54II/AAAAAAAAH3A/hcCRksY7CCIafh31PRwZvFjfshJS5WgiACLcB/s320/sherlock-holmes-silhouette-.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Sherlock Holmes Silhouette painting <br />
available for sale</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After moving to Dublin from India, I got the opportunity to actualize my long time wish. I visited United Kingdom twice. I went to see Baker Street in London city during the first trip and 221B during the second. A casual walk through the Baker Street alone was enough to satiate my wish as I believed a visit to the 221B apartment was not going to create a greater impression in mind than what I had in mind through reading the Sherlock books. But still, a wish is a wish! So, I decided to spend 15 British Pounds to make a physical visit to the 221B Baker Street museum.<br />
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The apartment is four-storied. It has been designed based on the details provided in the Canon of Sherlock Holmes. On the ground floor, there is a store from where we get tickets to the Sherlock Holmes museum. You can buy souvenirs from there ranging from books, Sherlock paintings, deerstalker hats, visiting cards, to film DVDs, and everything is hugely prized. I think the chest badge I bought for 2 Pounds is the cheapest one. This floor has an underground section where toilet facilities for visitors are provided.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5XjOWOuao6M/WEMcJoqvVpI/AAAAAAAAH38/im9gkGBsICYpo76UvGQpjnp44QnTjXjeACEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-museum-souv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5XjOWOuao6M/WEMcJoqvVpI/AAAAAAAAH38/im9gkGBsICYpo76UvGQpjnp44QnTjXjeACEw/s320/sherlock-holmes-museum-souv.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The souvenir I bought from the shop</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The entrance to the upper floors is guarded by a sentry in Victorian uniforms. Every staff in the museum is clad in the attire that reminds us of the Victorian times. Going up on the first floor, we are taken to the living room of Mrs Hudson, who was the landlady of Holmes and Watson according to the stories. There are places where we can sit and take photographs while holding a typical smoking pipe and wearing a Deerstalker hat, which were famously used by the fictional detective. A visitors’ book is available there on the table where we can put our signs, and guess what? I was the only visitor from India who signed on the page which was open.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BBmEsIsYMMs/WEMcJSCwMLI/AAAAAAAAH20/7SsTu4ClAygRn7EKQT2Au8iXfJDjazIfACEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-living-room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="The Sherlock Holmes Museum" border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BBmEsIsYMMs/WEMcJSCwMLI/AAAAAAAAH20/7SsTu4ClAygRn7EKQT2Au8iXfJDjazIfACEw/s320/sherlock-holmes-living-room.jpg" title="The Sherlock Holmes Museum" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blogger at the 221B living room <br />
donning the Deerstalker hat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Going up on the second floor, we see Sherlock Holmes’s bed room and living hall. Every floor has a bedroom and a living room, and every room is comparatively very small. A bust of Sherlock Holmes as described in ‘<i>The Adventure of the Empty House</i>’ is placed near to a window memorizing the events in the story. There are several of such replicas everywhere, Holmes’s violin, books read by Watson, and many. Replica of the characters and instances of the books are portrayed in the living room of the third floor. Characters in ‘<i>The Man with the Twisted Lip’ ‘The Disappearances of Lady Frances Carfax’, ‘The Speckled Band</i>’, and some more are portrayed in the third floor in life-like sizes. Close to the third floor living room you can see Watson’s bed room. A little above the third floor, there is a toilet which is not for the public use. There is an attic on top of the toilet area, which is forbidden from accessing.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hK_B3DUTznQ/WEMcJQjqdAI/AAAAAAAAH2w/AQAM38XMF6o86RVN-pmK8gLuJyibR3xngCEw/s1600/221b-visitors-book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hK_B3DUTznQ/WEMcJQjqdAI/AAAAAAAAH2w/AQAM38XMF6o86RVN-pmK8gLuJyibR3xngCEw/s320/221b-visitors-book.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The blogger's name in the visitors book</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Sherlock Holmes Museum at 221B Baker Street is a good place to visit, and there are a lot of visitors. It is run by the Sherlock Holmes Society, and above all there is a blue plaque for Holmes on the outer walls of the building. Although their effort is worthy of applause, I felt that some part of the layout of the building bears less resemblance with the depiction of the 221B building in the narrative. I could be wrong as well!<br />
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<i><b>Note: </b>You might have noticed that I nearly missed mentioning Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes. Why blame me? Such gigantic is the impression of his creation, needless to say!</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>
</i> <i><b>Trivia 1</b>: During the time of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, street numbers in Baker Street did not go as high as 221, which might be the reason why Conan Doyle chose a higher street number, to prevent the address from matching any actual person’s residence.</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>
</i> <i><b>Trivia 2</b>: As per the naming convention of the buildings in Baker Street, the actual house number of the Sherlock Holmes museum should be 239 Baker Street. There was some controversy associated with renaming 239 into 221B when the museum was opened in 1990.</i><br />
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<table><tbody>
<tr> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHkxIgAQbWY/WEMc4utKaVI/AAAAAAAAH38/_MrUTnW70YM2zN1-b5CJQvCZWQB1xd9nACEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-blue-plaque.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHkxIgAQbWY/WEMc4utKaVI/AAAAAAAAH38/_MrUTnW70YM2zN1-b5CJQvCZWQB1xd9nACEw/s200/sherlock-holmes-blue-plaque.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The blue plaque, they are rarely <br />
given to fictional characters</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fDdQi920iY/WEMc4AY68kI/AAAAAAAAH38/CvSd9XzdObox5wJBaZRxh1uvtRjQIMebgCEw/s1600/221b-man-with-the-twisted-l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fDdQi920iY/WEMc4AY68kI/AAAAAAAAH38/CvSd9XzdObox5wJBaZRxh1uvtRjQIMebgCEw/s200/221b-man-with-the-twisted-l.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Man with the </i><br />
<i>Twisted Lip</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OpgtNPm58iA/WEMc4C_Ld8I/AAAAAAAAH38/WYq4jgW8e60d4tfjWbliuxkmFBjfdntAgCEw/s1600/221b-police-note.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OpgtNPm58iA/WEMc4C_Ld8I/AAAAAAAAH38/WYq4jgW8e60d4tfjWbliuxkmFBjfdntAgCEw/s200/221b-police-note.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Scotland Yard wanted help <br />
from Sherlock</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> </tr>
<tr> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QSftZUotTys/WEMc4TpyZPI/AAAAAAAAH38/APbTJWVlse0ANcJJD2YWiUOwRHUKLsSSQCEw/s1600/221b-sherlock-holmes-items.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QSftZUotTys/WEMc4TpyZPI/AAAAAAAAH38/APbTJWVlse0ANcJJD2YWiUOwRHUKLsSSQCEw/s200/221b-sherlock-holmes-items.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Deerstalker hat, gun, pipe, <br />
binocular, and measurement tape</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H8e1Ahqk9t8/WEMc4fab2_I/AAAAAAAAH38/-eNQUHuTKRcNa51nSFlMM9a2jt2RC0nSwCEw/s1600/baker-street-london.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="154" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H8e1Ahqk9t8/WEMc4fab2_I/AAAAAAAAH38/-eNQUHuTKRcNa51nSFlMM9a2jt2RC0nSwCEw/s200/baker-street-london.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An exterior view of the Baker Street.<br />
The Sherlock Holmes Museum is <br />
seen at the right side.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5qPOPfLTuA/WEMc4ax9UbI/AAAAAAAAH38/igshWZvGc00LGwWzIEqSDhJs1E5A3eGbQCEw/s1600/irene-adler-statue-221b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C5qPOPfLTuA/WEMc4ax9UbI/AAAAAAAAH38/igshWZvGc00LGwWzIEqSDhJs1E5A3eGbQCEw/s200/irene-adler-statue-221b.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A statue of Irene Adler,<br />
Holmes's love interest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> </tr>
<tr> <td><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sGeCBDWJRFc/WEMcJTEcruI/AAAAAAAAH24/Syom7aR_JT4Llx73KedUqgWuzYI7nfq3wCEw/s1600/221b-baker-street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="221B Baker Street, London" border="0" height="152" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sGeCBDWJRFc/WEMcJTEcruI/AAAAAAAAH24/Syom7aR_JT4Llx73KedUqgWuzYI7nfq3wCEw/s200/221b-baker-street.jpg" title="221B Baker Street, London" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the Sherlock Holmes <br />
Museum and 221B <br />
Baker Street</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ybS_WAwUSDo/WEMc4p-ZpUI/AAAAAAAAH38/klblWeTVsR8aXX-r4neWxIcFkt9Mymu0gCEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-bust.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ybS_WAwUSDo/WEMc4p-ZpUI/AAAAAAAAH38/klblWeTVsR8aXX-r4neWxIcFkt9Mymu0gCEw/s200/sherlock-holmes-bust.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous bust of Sherlock,<br />
from <i>The Empty House</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HeelRdQJ-oE/WEMc4huWJaI/AAAAAAAAH38/Xl_PwMmzZeEhkXNVhvhw4Q4ynRrs5Y6WQCEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-handwriting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HeelRdQJ-oE/WEMc4huWJaI/AAAAAAAAH38/Xl_PwMmzZeEhkXNVhvhw4Q4ynRrs5Y6WQCEw/s200/sherlock-holmes-handwriting.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Supposed handwriting of Sherlock<br />
Holmes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> </tr>
<tr> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TaJ4soWKUC4/WEMc43fN6UI/AAAAAAAAH38/svQBNDaR404W10DF3OZ1Ilazctb9NWzsACEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-solitary-cyclist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TaJ4soWKUC4/WEMc43fN6UI/AAAAAAAAH38/svQBNDaR404W10DF3OZ1Ilazctb9NWzsACEw/s200/sherlock-holmes-solitary-cyclist.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A portrayal from <i>The Solitary</i><br />
<i>Cyclist</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m4yUTPNMPxg/WEMc5BoO0mI/AAAAAAAAH38/N085wKsE9Uwmj8qmashcY3E-Ke4lRWQygCEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-violin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m4yUTPNMPxg/WEMc5BoO0mI/AAAAAAAAH38/N085wKsE9Uwmj8qmashcY3E-Ke4lRWQygCEw/s200/sherlock-holmes-violin.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holmes is portrayed in the stories <br />
as a music enthusiast, a violinist</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td> <td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oJbf9jc5ikU/WEMc5Hne5GI/AAAAAAAAH38/0QQRYTAYnyUrgFKhvxxxoFWGN3nB95QFACEw/s1600/sherlock-holmes-watson-deerstalker-hat-pipe-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oJbf9jc5ikU/WEMc5Hne5GI/AAAAAAAAH38/0QQRYTAYnyUrgFKhvxxxoFWGN3nB95QFACEw/s200/sherlock-holmes-watson-deerstalker-hat-pipe-.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hats of Holmes and Watson,<br />
magnifying glass and pipe</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-24962794401722718802016-11-23T04:01:00.000+05:302016-11-23T04:12:00.572+05:30Silence in Alfred Hitchcock films as a device for suspense<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it."</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>-Alfred Hitchcock</i></div>
</div>
<br />
Alfred Hitchcock may be likened to Agatha Christie when their works in film and literature respectively are considered. The ‘Master of Suspense’ was as prolific as the ‘Queen of Crime Fiction’, and their similarity is not confined to the quantity of produced works alone, but both were equally successful in creating works of superior quality in a continuous manner for longer periods of time.<br />
<br />
Our today’s topic of discussion is not the writings by Christie, but the films of Hitchcock. As everyone knows, suspense was the primary forte of the man of multiple cameos, and he was greatly successful in that genre. My true intention is to point out a technique that I noticed which Hitchcock employed to create a collective feeling of terror, anticipation, and excitement in his films; and the technique is – silence. A filmmaker who started his career in the silent era, who produced one of the first successful sound films in the form of <i>Blackmail (1929)</i> had every opportunity to be grown up as a moviemaker who knows how to use sound perfectly in his film.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ns45r7crRWQ/WDTJdi9U_3I/AAAAAAAAH08/AGSTj18VBFcOMx2nsruhQy68cMBkccuvACLcB/s1600/alfred-hitchcock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ns45r7crRWQ/WDTJdi9U_3I/AAAAAAAAH08/AGSTj18VBFcOMx2nsruhQy68cMBkccuvACLcB/s400/alfred-hitchcock.jpg" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alfred Hitchcock 'Hitch' (1899-1980)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While watching many of Hitchcock films I have noticed that he had the tenacity to add dead silence in places where it was least expected. It is striking to note that a film director, who was keen on generously filling many of the film portions, especially the beginning and end with flamboyant background music, chose to resort on total silence in some of the suspenseful key sequences. Critics many times mentioned the silence in the murder scene in ‘<i>Blackmail</i>’ movie in related discussions.<br />
<br />
Another example of such voluntary silence is the gruesome murder scene in his later year success ‘<i>Torn Curtain</i>’. In a violent scene of this 1966 movie, Hitchcock stayed silent while a German guide was being murdered inside a seedy and solitary farmhouse. The guide’s head was pushed by the slayers into a gas oven and what we can hear is just the controlled noise of the struggle.<br />
<br />
But these two scenes have given us a horror or sad feeling rather than Hitchcock’s trademark suspense. I have noticed two scenes in two different films which were remarkable for the controlled use of sound where suspense was at its peak. The scenes featured no background score but very limited ambience. Since he believed in the anticipation of sound as a key of suspense rather than the sound itself, (as per the quote in the beginning of this article), we have every reason to believe that his intention was to create a multiplied mood of suspense in the spectators minds by simply keeping them wait for an unexpected sound. Have a look at the two scenes below:<br />
<b><br />
</b> <b>The Theft Scene in <i>Marnie (1964)</i></b><br />
<b><br />
</b><i> Marnie </i>saw the last collaboration between Hitchcock and the beautiful Tippi Hedren, and also in this film we witnessed the latter pairing with the iconic James Bond actor, Sean Connery. Tippi was recently in the news when she repeated her former allegation against ‘<i>Hitch</i>’, how the master director sexually assaulted her during the shooting of this film. As a matter of fact, the blond Tippi was in the league of the perfect 'Hitchcockian' heroines in every manner. Let us leave these things aside. The psychological thriller <i>Marnie </i>featured Tippi Hedren in the avatar of a kleptomaniac in its title role. Hitchcock takes us to the peak of excitement with the careful use of sound in this film’s office theft scene. We are part of an office burglary 44 minutes into the film. When Marnie stealthily conducts the theft, even the clanking of the keys or a slight change in room tone is capable enough to scare us. See the scene below:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.dailymotion.com/embed/video/x26u6n2?start=2682" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>The Crop Duster Scene in <i>North by NorthWest (1959)</i></b><br />
<br />
This scene is famous for its intriguing visual presentation and a mysterious charm brought by suddenly shifting the area of action from an urban area to a totally rural dry farm land. Such a sudden jump catches our sense since it alienates us quickly from a locale which was familiar so far. Hitchcock’s most famous leading man Cary Grant (only after James Stewart in my viewpoint) is seen here waiting for a person where there is nobody. Only the occasional passing of vehicles and the chopper’s distant noise bring auditory relief to the spectators’ minds. Watch the scene below:<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/mEpT9QC3CNU?rel=0" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
<b>Tail-end: </b><i>The Birds (1963)</i> also has a sequence where the sound is greatly suppressed and silence is enhanced. But I find the above two sequences surpass <i>the Birds </i>scene in terms of the amount of anticipation.<br />
<br /></div>
Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-64263583877543394362016-11-17T07:51:00.001+05:302016-12-25T22:16:16.164+05:30RF Resonant Cavity Thruster (EmDrive) - Is it Impossible still?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span></b>he human is confined to the earth. The blue marble is his natural habitat, away from which, he has no destiny. Separation from consumable energy sources and close contact with strange atmosphere make the earthly life forms incapable of survival in space.<br />
<br />
But the human is genetically adventurous. So they attempted space travel. The ancient and intrinsic humane curiosity about the celestial bodies gave way for his hunt to find similar planets that can sustain life forms. The adventure that started as a quick visit to the upper orbit levels eventually led him to land on earth’s natural satellite, the Moon. And now, he is on the lookout of possible other worlds where he can survive in an earth-like atmosphere before the earth becomes inhabitable anymore.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-10ectG2fd4Q/WC0RZxIfNcI/AAAAAAAAHzo/b9tF0jCsEZgYcs2e1ArMFvCYuHIYe-01gCLcB/s1600/the-blue-marble.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-10ectG2fd4Q/WC0RZxIfNcI/AAAAAAAAHzo/b9tF0jCsEZgYcs2e1ArMFvCYuHIYe-01gCLcB/s400/the-blue-marble.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blue Marble, Earth's famous photograph taken by the crew of Apollo 17.<br />
Courtesy: NASA</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Leave that story aside. Let’s now think about the historical evolution of human’s travel modes. The man who wandered completely unclothed around the forests reached an evolutionary landmark when he invented the wheel. He ultimately learned to travel via the land, the water and the air using vehicles. The history says us that there were certain inventions which acted as the milestones of the growth of the human transport. The invention of the steam engine might be one such. The recently developed Hyperloop technology may be another one, which is another story. When humans developed rocket propulsion technology, it helped him to travel out of earth’s protective environment.<br />
<br />
If the man is continuing his space expeditions, the existing rocket-propelled methods would become unreliable very soon, due to the cost involved. Factors to be considered here include the amount of fuel required for the initial launch from the earth and the cost for refuelling in case the plan is for an interplanetary travel (interstellar may be in the far future). Spacecraft once used is totally or partially unusable for a second expedition, which is another important factor in this regard. I am not ignoring the fact that we are planning a manned launch to the Mars with the existing rocket-propelled methods, but for how long we can rely on such costly methods? If an intelligent alien species is furtively watching our space expeditions, we are being constantly pooh-poohed by them for still depending on such age-old methods. I don’t believe in intelligent extra-terrestrials (aliens) by the way; my points regarding this are another topic, about which I might write later.<br />
<br />
At this point, we have the concept of <b>EmDrive</b> or <b>RF Resonant Cavity Thruster</b>. The Emdrive (pronounced M-drive) is a device for transportation which requires no propellants. It is currently being built using a hypothetical method of converting microwave energy into thrust inside a closed chamber. Imagine a spacecraft that goes up effortlessly without any blast or cloud of smoke, and goes beyond the pull of earth’s attraction in a comparatively shorter span of time! That marvellous achievement will be the result of Em Drive’s successful construction. If you have seen movies about aliens, you might have noticed that in many cases the vehicles used by them are launched without any apparent thrust.<br />
<br />
The man behind Em-Drive is <b>Roger Shawyer</b>. You can see here a video in which he explains his concept. I am just an amateur Physics enthusiast, sadly not an expert to understand fully what he details in the video.<br />
<br />
<b>Full interview: Roger Shawyer, Creator of EmDrive</b><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4hTdSg47h3k" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
There were many predecessors of EmDrive, one of them was called Cannae Drive (formerly Q-drive), and there were also some other claimed anti-gravity drives. Some of such devices are either under development or were stopped when found futile. Roger Shawyer’s Em Drive is operated by a thrust, which is the result of the reaction between the end plates of the waveguide used in it, and the electromagnetic wave propagated within it (and thus the name, Em Drive, which may be called Electromagnetic Drive).<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c2EjnUFv3R8/WC0RZxSPgbI/AAAAAAAAHzk/_15cE-C7oSk7tLjmWjnyv0xShXU1gGvwwCLcB/s1600/em-drive-thruster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c2EjnUFv3R8/WC0RZxSPgbI/AAAAAAAAHzk/_15cE-C7oSk7tLjmWjnyv0xShXU1gGvwwCLcB/s400/em-drive-thruster.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">EmDrive's Sample Flight Thruster. Courtesy: <a href="http://www.emdrive.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">www.emdrive.com</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now, the sad part! The scientific world is mostly against this concept. They think this device will not work as it violates <i>Newton’s Third Law</i>, (which deals with the reaction that follows every action), and the theory of <i>Conservation of Momentum</i>. But, somehow, NASA takes Roger Shawyer seriously and they now seem to follow every development of EmDrive, though in a sceptic manner. A recent article which appeared in SPACE website also says this device might work, which is a lot of encouragement for the space enthusiasts. You may read the article in the below link:<br />
<a href="http://www.space.com/34672-impossible-space-engine-emdrive-test.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.space.com/34672-impossible-space-engine-emdrive-test.html</a><br />
<br />
The EmDrive may or may not work. But as a layman, I feel that it is high time that a revolution in space travel took place. As I had heard in somewhere before, the best shape that a spacecraft is to be built is that of a circular disc, as it is the best shape to skip through different atmospheres of varying gravity and pressure. (That’s why the UFOs always had a disc or circular shape?) If not EmDrive, probably a different device might soon be invented that would make the human species a spacefaring one, let us hope.<br />
<br />
<i>(Disclaimer: This is not a scientific article. The opinions in the article are the author's own.)</i></div>
Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-13039960357817010322016-11-10T00:27:00.001+05:302016-11-10T00:28:43.940+05:30Will my Ireland travel video make me a videographer in Dublin?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">F</span></b>rom the time I started to live in Dublin, the capital city of the Republic of Ireland, I found my new environment as soothing and scenic. Nature is green and colourful everywhere, especially in summer and in autumn. The autumn, which falls in August, September and October months, may be the most beautiful season of all, and the following three months, November, December and January are part of the winter season as per the Irish Calendar (Gaelic Calendar).<br />
<br />
Apart from the nature, Ireland is also home to several Victorian constructions and buildings, all remind us of the majesty of Gothic architecture. During my stay here, I could travel to several destinations in and around Dublin. Ireland’s second city Cork, Waterford, Swords (the place I live), Malahide, Howth Harbour, are some of the places I visited.<br />
<br />
Wherever I travelled, I carried my small camera along with me and took pictures and videos. I edited the videos into a single video, and posted on my YouTube channel with the name ‘Dublin Delights – in a cut N’ Paste Nutshell’. Apart from the above destination clips, the parade took place as part of Irish National festival St Patrick’s Day Celebrations in a small town called Cappoquin, and the events held in connection with Ireland’s 100 years of Independence (RTE – Reflecting the Rising), are also given a place in the video. The short video mostly covers winter sights.<br />
<b><br />
</b> <b>Dublin Delights – in a cut N’ Paste Nutshell<br />
</b><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/EwL--pZcN0E" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
I happened to notice that Dublin is home to several small companies that offer videography and photography services. There are many production companies in Dublin, with skilled photographers and videographers. Many of such corporate video production companies might be offering wedding videos and photographs as a parallel service. So, I am repeating what I told in the beginning of this article, in a rather sceptic tone, will my Ireland travel video make me a videographer in Dublin?<br />
<br /></div>
Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-53659196140474978062016-11-07T07:15:00.003+05:302016-11-09T20:16:29.896+05:30My false memory associated with ten-pin bowling games<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Y</span>ou might have heard the term ‘confabulation’ or ‘false memory’ if you are someone who takes an interest in psychological studies and topics related to mental conditions. I am not a professional in these disciplines, but my amateur interest in learning more about subjects that lack strong scientific support (Pseudo-sciences), have made me occasionally browse through internet grazing related knowledge.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lVhb6iWTE28/WB_cD8dIkWI/AAAAAAAAHxM/saBTobNmR6wIWwfNCWmmcR_MILFN_CdiwCLcB/s1600/false-memory-confabulation.png" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lVhb6iWTE28/WB_cD8dIkWI/AAAAAAAAHxM/saBTobNmR6wIWwfNCWmmcR_MILFN_CdiwCLcB/s320/false-memory-confabulation.png" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">False Memory (Confabulation), representational image</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
False memory is an occurrence when someone recalls an event which actually did not happen in their life, or when they recollect it in a false manner. Such disturbed memory is called Confabulation in medical terms, which require treatment in case it occurs in an individual more frequently.<br />
<br />
That’s some technical and complex data I have given in the above two paragraphs; so let’s keep them aside, and be ready to listen to a story from my repository of personal memories. That means I wish to share a false memory example from my life, though it may not be quite the case.<br />
<br />
Kerala’s golden city Kochi (Cochin) is now in a booming state, economically and in terms of infrastructure. More and more industrial hubs, big shopping malls (Lulu, Gold Souk, Central Mall, Nucleus Mall, and much more), and advanced travel options facilitated by metro rail project are now coming to Ernakulam. The shopping malls offer a great variety of opportunities to spend time and money lavishly.<br />
<br />
Once I went to a shopping mall in Kochi. My memory does not say which mall was it, but I have a faint idea that I was accompanied by friends. While walking through luxurious corridors, I happened to notice a game zone, where different play areas were set with appropriate utilities. Some of the games featured virtual reality, mainly for kids to do a bike ride through untraveled scenarios and terrains using joysticks and video walls. There was a different area for bowling alley game, especially for the youngsters and adults to indulge in some physically engaging act.<br />
<br />
This bowling game, which is also called the Ten-pin bowling, is a game in which the player throws, or rather rolls a bowling ball through a lane towards ten pins positioned at the end of the lane. I am not explaining the rules of the game here because you can see the bowling videos by simply googling. Probably, you may also be able to play free bowling games online, if you have a curious penchant for virtual games.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7BzXThivuAY/WB_cHadCl6I/AAAAAAAAHxQ/n35ilpxFw24DAPm6pZVSnkeQLRMlj2LiACLcB/s1600/bowling-alley-game.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7BzXThivuAY/WB_cHadCl6I/AAAAAAAAHxQ/n35ilpxFw24DAPm6pZVSnkeQLRMlj2LiACLcB/s400/bowling-alley-game.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bowling Alley Game</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Seeing the bowling alley setup, I immediately jumped on to the bowling platform. Getting hold of the mighty balls, I started bowling aiming the ten targets those were automatically placed by the bowling game machine. My memory says, I enjoyed the game, and I left the area with my friends only after getting exhausted totally.<br />
<br />
I have a slightly altered version of the above incident. If you have time enough, I suggest you better read the altered version also, since I need to do justice to the topic of this post as suggested in its title.<br />
<br />
The incident on which the memory is routed is a few years old. It was very recently the memory of my bowling game experience stuck my conscience so sudden as if in the manner of lighting. Though my false memory says I played the bowling game, my intelligence says that the chance for the occurrence of my ten-pin bowling game experience is little. Especially since I am public shy, I might not have attempted anything that would have brought me attention in a crowded gaming zone of a shopping mall in Kochi.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NGzmnHmWdks/WB_cHbvHlKI/AAAAAAAAHxU/qg28uZaeCWsVPNcupZ80IKKjfDYguZtYACLcB/s1600/ten-pin%2Bbowling%2Bgame.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NGzmnHmWdks/WB_cHbvHlKI/AAAAAAAAHxU/qg28uZaeCWsVPNcupZ80IKKjfDYguZtYACLcB/s400/ten-pin%2Bbowling%2Bgame.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ten-pin Bowling (Skittles)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I immersed into my thoughts again, and I went through the hidden dark corners of my memories, taking deep breaths, I swam through the whirl of obsolete remembrances, and saw a faint impression of the bowling event, somewhere in the uncared and cobwebbed corners of my subconscious. I saw in the bowling alley area two or three young smart boys playing the game very actively and energetically. They threw the ball, rolled the ball through the bowling lane; they played the game one by one, by altering chances, until they fully capture the ten pins. Some of them achieved the ten pins in a single chance, and some of them took three or more chances to be successful, whereas one boy or two wasn’t successful at the end.<br />
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I can’t still say this is the correct version of the event. But still, my practical intelligence says, this could be the probable one, especially since you needed to pay a certain amount to participate in games in the gaming zone. I might have stood there watching the boys playing the ten-pin bowling game. Years later, when I tried to recall this incident, my game watching experience coupled with my desire to play the game might have created a false memory in which I played the game.<br />
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-30371025739379489272016-07-14T23:50:00.000+05:302016-11-10T19:30:18.579+05:30Yesterday I dreamt a Black Hole!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: large;">S</span></b>cientists speculated about the existence of black holes over a century ago. Nowadays it is commonly accepted that every galaxy in the universe has a black hole at its centre. And what is a black hole? A black hole is a region in the universe with gargantuan mass and high gravitational pull. The mass and gravity of such area exceed several times that of a common star like the Sun. Due its gravity, nothing can escape from a black hole, even the light rays, once they are caught inside by its borderline, called the event horizon. Since no light rays can come out of it, black holes always appear blank. They are invisible black areas in the universe which can be detected only by its interaction with nearby space, time and other matter in the vicinity. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ccIst-nM1UI/V4fUx9-Tn5I/AAAAAAAAHWw/Jv6LXOtq3AAHtWUFnfd_OXs30ayNAZchACK4B/s1600/black-hole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ccIst-nM1UI/V4fUx9-Tn5I/AAAAAAAAHWw/Jv6LXOtq3AAHtWUFnfd_OXs30ayNAZchACK4B/s400/black-hole.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A common visual representation of a black hole</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Imagine a black hole as something like a water-well on our earth. Assume that, the well has some sort of magnetic capacity which will attract everything that goes above. If you try to peep into it, you are definitely pulled in, even if you are standing a bit away from its edge. And you can never ever escape. Whatever kinds of rescue devices are brought to this place, and whichever human of Supermanic abilities offered help, the recovery is impossible. Any such retrieval measures is suicidal; they will be killing themselves. The fate of something that goes into the well is uncertain, as nobody has so far returned, once went into the well…<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">…that was how a black hole appeared in my last night’s dream!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the dream, I and my friend wished to go to someplace, and we had to go through the dreadful place where this well-like black hole existed. My friend was in haste, so he left first, and I agreed to go after him. I never imagined that my friend would have shown that condemnable courage to offer a furtive look into the black hole. But, fatal things happen sans any procrastination, though happiness always comes delayed.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tVYE2FnxayU/V4fU_Tr1vlI/AAAAAAAAHW4/778R3edtMrMhQi2n1OtMOnuKrmKryd2HwCK4B/s1600/water-well.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tVYE2FnxayU/V4fU_Tr1vlI/AAAAAAAAHW4/778R3edtMrMhQi2n1OtMOnuKrmKryd2HwCK4B/s400/water-well.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water well</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">That was shocking! I never guessed my friend would have even dared to go close to the well. How could he act so stupidly? So what I do next? I have another friend, a trusted one. I can rely on him, though I am unsure about his capabilities. We both decided to go to the black hole for a sneaky inspection. We found the black hole has a circular sidewall apart from the concrete bar overhead supported on two vertical columns.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Though we both were hesitant a bit to approach the black hole, we decided to offer a cautious glance, doing away with our fear. We went close and tried to look into the well, by clutching firmly on the sidewalls. Everything is dark inside the wall. Darkness gushes upwards in a continuous manner from the depth of the well and comes to a halt at the edges of the sidewalls. Is there something attracting us smoothly? We leant a little more towards the mouth of the water well. And yeah, that is true! There is a sort of magnetic pull coming from the depth of the chasm. We withdrew ourselves back. So, it is true! Our friend has done what he shouldn’t have attempted. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A problem! My friend couldn’t have gone inside by simply looking into it. Because as we experienced, the magnetic attraction was not so great that it did not pull us while standing close to it. My reliable friend came with a solution. As we are close to the black hole, we could have controlled the time. Yes, the time! According to Physics, the time in the surroundings of a black hole runs slower than on earth due to gravity. By the way, do you remember Interstellar (2014), the film by Christopher Nolan? We can’t be sure if my friend is completely lost forever in space-time, or whether he is experiencing the pleasant state of timelessness in the web of the black hole. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-16-eyNKBq-I/V4fVF-p6PHI/AAAAAAAAHXA/HUfylE-RRFwlJQ0D3_n10Y-y0p75z1IhwCK4B/s1600/interstellar-2014-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-16-eyNKBq-I/V4fVF-p6PHI/AAAAAAAAHXA/HUfylE-RRFwlJQ0D3_n10Y-y0p75z1IhwCK4B/s320/interstellar-2014-poster.jpg" width="320" /></a>My reliable friend tried to do something that I couldn’t have done. He manipulated the time, and we both went back to a time phase in the past. We found ourselves exactly a few hours back from the present. We saw my former friend standing at the tip of the black hole. What is he doing there?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We saw him climbing on a nearby tree, and jumping down in such a way that he would not have fallen directly into the well. I understood! He is testing the magnetic power of the well. Would he be pulled in by the black hole, if he let him fall from the tree above, by narrowly missing the mouth of the well? That’s what he is testing. Having such an idiotic curiosity is surely poisonous. We saw him falling straightly into the black hole while jumping down from the tree slightly allowing his body parts to be at the magnetic field of the black hole that extends infinitely upwards. Having witnessed the mishap, my reliable friend brought both of us back to the present time. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After waking up from the dream, I soon recollected that all the history of the entire universe is recorded in a mixed language of English and Mathematics on the inner walls of the well. The inner walls were imprinted by amber coloured digital figures all the way from the top, and that writings extended infinitesimally towards a bottom that existed somewhere in the far ends of the universe. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It seems that reading hypothetical scenarios in Quora makes me watch such weird dreams nowadays.</div></div>Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-76543114646408609912015-12-28T18:04:00.001+05:302017-01-10T16:48:23.332+05:30Kashmiri Dolls - A Whodunnit Short Film<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">M</span></b>any of my long time readers might remember the advances I made in writing fiction related to the genres like suspense thriller, horror, and detective in this blog. As part of my stints in short film making, a work dealing with detective fiction was made in 2014 and was circulated via YouTube, apart from screening in some reputed festivals in Kerala.<br />
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The short film is titled 'Kashmiri Dolls'. But ironically it has nothing to with Kashmir, but it is related to dolls a lot. As we know, kids love dolls. In this story there are plenty of dolls in a house, and the kid in the house likes to play with them. But, what if she notices something irregular in the dolls? She will be worried right? In our short film, everyone in the family rather got scared.<br />
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I am not spoiling the suspense of the story, I suggest you watch it yourself, and let me know your comments. Apart from handling the story, screenplay, and direction departments, I have done the lead role, that is of a brainy but lazy character. I think I have done justice to the character in portraying him as an amateur detective, to a certain favorable extent. Up to you.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JrzJZpxVf_A" width="640"></iframe><br /></div>
Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-50929155587665679582014-07-22T01:12:00.002+05:302022-07-16T21:27:08.541+05:30Interview: Satisfashion and its Girls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span></b>oday, I would like to introduce an interesting website run by a group of young people from Brazil. The website is called <i>Satisfashion</i>, which is primarily available in Portuguese language. This blog has French and English versions, which are also simultaneously running, making it an interesting and successful entrepreneurship. Let’s meet today the three Brazilian belles who are behind this work. They are Roberta Valadão(27), Kamila Frutuoso(23), and Babi Bernardo(25), editors of the blog. </div>
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Girls, welcome to <b><i>Vanity Moments</i></b>. </div>
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<i><b>Tomz: </b>About your venture, <b>Satisfashion Brazil</b>, what does it mainly deal with?</i></div>
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<b>Roberta: </b>Satisfashion is a very different website, because it is one of the few bilingual websites here in Brazil dealing with fashion, beauty, culture, and lifestyle.</div>
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<i><b>Tomz:</b> How did you come to the idea of starting a blog for Brazilian fashion? Personally, I run a fashion webstore myself at <a href="https://www.tripattires.com/" target="_blank">TripAttires.com</a> featuring travel fashion clothes for men and women. Is your website a similar one? Or, is about only the fashion industry in Brazil? Or does it cover world fashion too? </i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Gmdimv3y7k/U81mAo0dhrI/AAAAAAAAGDw/-3IXIyv-rkM/s1600/Roberta.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Roberta" border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Gmdimv3y7k/U81mAo0dhrI/AAAAAAAAGDw/-3IXIyv-rkM/s1600/Roberta.jpg" title="" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Roberta Valadão</i></span></td></tr>
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<b>Roberta: </b> The blog “was born” after a brainstorm session with Babi. We wanted a place to share our ideas and everything that we believe as cool on internet. Satisfashion was released in February this year.</div>
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Satisfashion is not just a fashion blog, because we speak about different issues, like the upcoming movies, art expositions, books, etc. But when it comes to fashion, we have a concern of speaking about the fashion all around the world, not only from Brazil. Thus, we really like to introduce new designers and brands to our readers; one of them is Bonita Cor from the fashion designer, Márcia Braga. </div>
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<i><b>Tomz:</b> How did you bump into the curious title, Satisfashion? What does it mean? </i></div>
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<b>Babi:</b> The name was inspired from the song Satisfaction, by the British group The Rolling Stones.</div>
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I was singing and playing with the word Satisfaction. Suddenly, I thought that the word Satisfashion would sound very nice for a fashion blog. I personally interpret the beginning part Sati as encompassing of all kind of topics that make us happy!</div>
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<i><b>Tomz:</b> Is Blogging a mainstream career in Brazil? Are the bloggers in Brazil well accepted? </i></div>
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<b>Kamila:</b> Yes, here in Brazil it is very common to be a blogger and the career is growing more and more every day. But still, there are many people who do not consider blogging as a job, but overall we are well accepted here. </div>
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<i><b>Tomz:</b> For Vanity Moments readers, could you please share a few of your nice memories and bad experiences as a Blogger? </i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EW61-bQMgV0/U81mAj5x9HI/AAAAAAAAGD0/XVSzsXY2MVQ/s1600/Kamila.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kamila" border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EW61-bQMgV0/U81mAj5x9HI/AAAAAAAAGD0/XVSzsXY2MVQ/s1600/Kamila.jpg" title="" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;"><i>Kamila Frutuoso</i></span></td></tr>
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<b>Kamila:</b> I encounter pleasant moments daily. We can see the appreciation from the readers through their comments. I feel really touched when the readers comment that they enjoyed our posts, or when they reply to our posts that they now know an issue because of our website, which they were previously unaware of.</div>
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We had one bad memory also, which happened due to misunderstanding, during the beginning of our blog. That time, we had just started the business. But now everything goes perfect. We are learning a lot daily. </div>
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<i><b>Tomz: </b>Do you have any hobbies? Tell me about your pastime activities. </i></div>
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<b>Kamila:</b> I do not have a specific hobby, but I usually go out with friends, watch movies and walk along the beach. I like skating, and I hope to soon get into a roller derby league 4!</div>
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<b>Roberta:</b> Reading, and watching TV shows!</div>
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<b>Babi: </b>Reading, going to the movies with my fiancé Thadeu Rodrigues, and hanging out with friends.</div>
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<i><b>Tomz: </b>You have lots of fans, friends and followers from India (I am also one of them). How did you start to connect with your Indian friends? </i></div>
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<b>Babi:</b> I started interacting with my foreigner friends through Orkut (May rest in peace). I really love all of them. They were always very supportive and caring and now they extend that support to Satisfashion also :)</div>
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We have a huge audience in India!</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uPyp-o9jTJs/U81mAgsvOlI/AAAAAAAAGD4/c20VGhizmJ8/s1600/Babi+bernardo.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Babi" border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uPyp-o9jTJs/U81mAgsvOlI/AAAAAAAAGD4/c20VGhizmJ8/s1600/Babi+bernardo.jpg" title="" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;"><i>Babi Bernardo</i></span></td></tr>
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<i><b>Tomz:</b> As a fashion blogger, what do you feel about Indian traditional costumes? If you feature any costumes from Indian fashion world, what would be it? </i></div>
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<b>Babi: </b>Sari, no doubt! I love this Indian dress! It’s so mysterious! </div>
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<i><b>Tomz:</b> Can you share a few details about the film industry in Brazil? Do you think your fashion blog can do something for Brazilian film industry? </i></div>
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<b>Babi:</b> The film industry here in Brazil needs attention. We have been producing many good stories for the big screen but we have some cultural problems, because our people prefer American movies to our native ones. I think it’s important to share and support our native productions. Nowadays, Satisfashion commented about an upcoming an independent production called <i>Me + You</i>. All the money for the movie has been raised through the crowd funding.</div>
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Apart from Roberta, Camila and Babi, a few more youngsters are part of the venture, including Babi’s fiance Thadeu.</div>
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<b>Members of Satisfashion:</b></div>
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<b>Thadeu Rodrigues </b>– Financial Director; 23 years old</div>
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<b>Lívia Araújo </b>- Books Columnist; 21 years old</div>
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<b>Jefferson Alves</b> – Music Columnist; 20 years old</div>
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<b>Bruna Andrade</b> – Humor Columnist; 21 years old</div>
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Vanity Moments wishes good future to Satisfashion Brazil!</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-66787862939986097842014-07-15T22:57:00.000+05:302016-11-22T00:27:15.427+05:30Chat with Shetall Ramsinghani <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span></b> happened to meet <b>Shetall Ramsinghani </b>a few months back through social media. Shetall is a Delhi based blogger and a writer, who has published two books, “Love beyond Veils”, and “The Golden Hour”.<br />
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Shetall’s writings appear to me as ‘a soothing, and silent celebration of solitude’!<br />
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It’s surprising to see her thoughts mix melancholy with romance; and sometimes with an additional tinge of fantasy. On certain writings, I found her thoughts courting with the nature. Her writings very unexpectedly take us from present to past in a very swift shift through the memory lane.<br />
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Here she is talking about her latest work, “The Golden Hour”.<br />
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<b>VM: </b>Who is the author “behind” the book?</div>
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<i style="text-align: justify;"><b>Shetall:</b></i><i> Hi, I am Shetall Ramsinghani born and bought up in New Delhi and presently working for a Diplomatic Mission i.e. for a foreign government for their office in India. I have completed my graduation in Bachelor of Arts from Delhi University. My first book Love beyond Veils was a book of poems which was created with my thoughts and with the guidance of my higher self.</i></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TiwIFK-9AIY/U8VjSdQX0dI/AAAAAAAAGDU/J_D711LB18M/s1600/IMG-20140712-WA0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img alt="Shetall" border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TiwIFK-9AIY/U8VjSdQX0dI/AAAAAAAAGDU/J_D711LB18M/s1600/IMG-20140712-WA0002.jpg" title="" width="322" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shetall Ramsinghani</td></tr>
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<i><i>Later on I started participating in various competitions also and won U.K pet poetry competition in 2013.</i></i></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;">VM: </b>Do you have any particular literary influences that have helped you develop in your genre, subject and style?</div>
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<i><b>Shetall:</b></i><i> No, I write my heart out </i></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;">VM:</b> Please briefly describe your book. </div>
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<i><b>Shetall:</b> The Golden Hour is my second book which was released on 06th June, 2014 by Partridge India publication. It has short imaginary stories of what I have seen and observed in my daily life. The Golden Hour is a varied and exciting collection of short stories with situations we face in our daily lives in cities. Some have the irony of life and some give you the strength and positive energy to move ahead no matter how life treats you. I have dedicated this book to my late grandfather Shri Gopal Das Ramsinghani, who passed away in August, 2013. The one who taught me how to live life with morals.</i></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;">VM: </b>What inspired you to write your book and how long did it take you to finish it? </div>
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<i><b>Shetall: </b></i><i>My grandfather was very fond of reading short stories and he enjoyed reciting them to me every evening after I returned home from work. After I lost him in August 2013, I recalled how he used to divert my mind from daily humdrum with the stories he used to read during the day after retirement. It took me an year to finish this book as I am a working woman and when priorities gets mixed with passion it does take time.</i></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;">VM: </b>What is the one message you would like to convey to your readers about your book?</div>
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<i><b>Shetall: </b></i><i>Logic can take you from A to B but imaginations can take you anywhere and everywhere. Come join my imaginations while reading my stories and for a while live in your own world. Trust me, you won’t regret it.</i></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;">VM: </b>Are you working on a sequel to your book? </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPdfPIIzBIo/U8VjSZLA5oI/AAAAAAAAGDY/rZOuNR7F36c/s1600/IMG-20140712-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img alt="The Golden Hour" border="0" height="330" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPdfPIIzBIo/U8VjSZLA5oI/AAAAAAAAGDY/rZOuNR7F36c/s1600/IMG-20140712-WA0001.jpg" title="Screenshot" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Golden Hour Cover</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i style="text-align: justify;"><b>Shetall: </b></i><i style="text-align: justify;"><i>No, I would be working on a different project now. It would be a totally different experience for me and of course a new era with learning for me and the readers</i></i><i></i><br />
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<b style="text-align: left;">VM: </b>Are there any events, marketing ideas or promotions planned for your book?</div>
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<i><b>Shetall: </b></i><i>I have been promoting my book through social media and recently got my book reviewed by a journalist also. Please find the link <a href="http://www.businessinsider.in/June-Releases-8-Cool-Books-To-Enrich-Your-Summer-Reading/The-Golden-Hour/slideshow/37528991.cms" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">here</a>.</i></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;">VM: </b>What advice would you give to aspiring authors? </div>
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<i><b>Shetall: </b></i><i>Live your passion, you have only one life </i></div>
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Thank you Shetall for the time spent with <i>Vanity Moments</i>.</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-70900813938366515642014-01-31T00:31:00.000+05:302014-07-24T18:16:14.911+05:30A Trip to Mars<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
An exciting film always remains in my mind for a long period. It usually evokes creative thoughts in my mind, and sometimes causes wonderful dreams. Inception was an example for this. The crux of the film remained in my thought process very long time. Watching dreams with dream itself as the main theme was usual thing for me during the Inception era. I had written even a post with the same substance.<br />
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Recently another film also made me watch related dreams. The film was Gravity. I watched it twice, and it was such an awe inspiring spectacle. In the ending scenes, the scientist played by Sandra Bullock landed on earth in a circular shaped container. My dream went like this.<br />
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A space ship is travelling from the Earth aiming Mars, and I am one of the travelers in it. The ship is similar to the one we see in the end portion of Gravity. A spherical one, dark coloured, providing movability. It is completely sheltered from objects in the space, not even a meteor could have broken it.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gid9Ltw-qgM/Uuqj7OyDOSI/AAAAAAAAFz4/wAYYpE4vKeI/s1600/Gravity-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Gravity (2013)" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gid9Ltw-qgM/Uuqj7OyDOSI/AAAAAAAAFz4/wAYYpE4vKeI/s1600/Gravity-2.jpg" height="266" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gravity (2013) Film Poster</td></tr>
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After several months long travel, we finally landed on the Mars. At first we couldn't say where was we landed. From the floating motion of the space ship, we could gather that we were landed on something liquid like. If we open the door of the shelter, we could straightly stepped into the liquid. What if the liquid was too deep? We were not able to deduce the properties of the planet Mars. Whether it is hot, humid? What if the liquid we landed on was boiling like hell? What if we all would be boiled in that hot water?<br />
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If we need to return to earth, first the space ship had to be placed on a strong terrain, not on something liquid like. So, without being not able to open the door, or not able to return, we all trapped in the planet mars.<br />
After I woke up from the dream, still I felt that we were all living on planet Mars in limbo state.<br />
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-49028987132153308742013-12-25T22:00:00.003+05:302021-09-26T14:39:34.764+05:30Murphy’s Law<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Happy Christmas and New Year wishes to all!</div>
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Today I want to write about Murphy ’s Law! What is Murphy’s Law? It is an adage or witty saying that people usually take as true as they have seen its application in their own lives in one way or the other. If giving a definition is necessary, the Murphy’s Law has been stated as 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong!'</div>
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'Anything that can wrong, will go wrong'? What is that? Well, I was expecting that question. I first happened to hear about this curious law some years back, even before I started blogging. That time, the person who initiated me into blogging had written a post with the same title, and then I also thought it was true, especially since I am a pessimist, yes! I also believe, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, especially when we madly need a situation in which everything comes right.<br />
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I can just cite an example to explain this theory. Suppose you go to college (or office) everyday by your scooter. You daily start your journey from home at a routine time. Your scooter is your best trustworthy companion, it never puts you in trouble, and you had never faced a situation in which you are stuck at road side because of any malfunction from your scooter. But this evening your professor asked you to come class the next morning one hour earlier, as he had to complete his portions a bit faster since semester is coming to an end. The professor had already noted you, since you had failed many times in that subject. So, in case you do not attend his class, you will be facing some earthquakes.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AMYHMPJIesY/UrsKaMSL5SI/AAAAAAAAFy4/G5FB4gwf9nI/s1600/scooter+trouble.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sample Image" border="0" height="317" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AMYHMPJIesY/UrsKaMSL5SI/AAAAAAAAFy4/G5FB4gwf9nI/s400/scooter+trouble.jpg" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But, you are not worried, you plan to be awake in the morning one hour earlier and set alarm accordingly. But alas! the next morning the alarm failed to ring you on time, and you have only a few minutes to get prepared. You complete your bathroom affairs in haste, skip your breakfast and jump upon your scooter just like a warrior on horseback, and kick on kicker, but, there is no response. The scooter is not working, may be due to empty fuel tank or any other technical problem. May be due to an unknown wire in its complicated mechanism that lost its joint. But you have no time to waste! You run to the nearby bus stop. You know a bus that goes through your college door, which has a stopover in front of your house. You look at the watch, which shows 8:37am, yes the bus will be there in five minutes. You wait and wait, but no buses come. You don’t know what went wrong. After fifteen minutes waiting, you plan to go a pinion ride by requesting someone coming that way on a two wheeler. No one responds to your waving arm. At last you get someone’s lift, and it is the noisy scooter of the fish merchant. You travel with him, and he drops you at a point where you need to walk five minutes to reach your college. </div>
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You practically run, and reach your class room. The class has already begun, and the Professor looks at you with his furious eyes. You apologise and enter the class room. Everyone’s is preying eyes fall on you with an impish smile. The professor comes close and asks you to show him the last days note. You search in the bag; all books are there, except the one your teacher has asked. </div>
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I can see you everyone is smiling. Yes this is a typical example for Murphy’s Law. Now you all are agreeing with me that you also have faced the same situation many often. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KIiHPymDSx4/UrsKj_GVTPI/AAAAAAAAFzA/Bu1bE64s4DI/s1600/student+and+professor.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Sample Image" border="0" height="264" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KIiHPymDSx4/UrsKj_GVTPI/AAAAAAAAFzA/Bu1bE64s4DI/s400/student+and+professor.jpg" title="" width="400" /></a>Last week, when I was spending some moments with my friend, I mentioned Murphy’s Law. My smart phone has trouble in displaying the messages. When I touch on the message option, it appears and closes automatically in one or two seconds. I said my friend that I have this issue, and touched on the message button for a demonstration. The messaging option opened and we waited for some moments to see it automatically closes. But nothing happened, it didn’t close. That’s why I say, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.</div>
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I said about Murphy’s Law to some of the artists at my third short films location (yes, currently it is happening). When I explained it with the help of the aforementioned examples, everyone was smiling and nodding in an approving manner, admitting they too had faced it many times. By the way,have you seen the space film Gravity? Yes,they say Gravity has some application of this wretched theory.</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-38313416819514921702013-11-29T23:22:00.002+05:302021-09-26T14:41:27.541+05:30A Confession<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It’s been a long time since I wrote anything about my past days. I think you know how much eloquent is me when my topic of writing is about the early days those were at the brink of forgetfulness. But, I think at least through this useless chronicling of my mesmerizing olden times, I can keep my fading memories alive.<br />
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This time the story is about a person whom I met when I was in Trivadrum during my initial days there. He was very funny, and dominating with some leadership qualities. I think I have told you about my admiration for taller persons, germinated during my growing ages when I was treated by others as a short guy. We both became befriended very easily and smoothly, and at the end of everyday, we used to have our evening jaunts together through the city in the process of acquainting with its many newly found curiosities.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olmw_IAjnAw/UpjXMx5h4eI/AAAAAAAAFyI/Ut98EmrCzDY/s1600/sleeping+man+with+cell+phone.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olmw_IAjnAw/UpjXMx5h4eI/AAAAAAAAFyI/Ut98EmrCzDY/s320/sleeping+man+with+cell+phone.jpg" width="241" /></a>Let me come back to the story. After our months long staying together, we both parted, but the contact was active. We used to meet each other, whenever he came to the city, and at one time, he had forcefully got me out for a ride during my office time, while he was on his occasional city visit. That time his purpose was to buy a cute little puppy from a pet shop located at some distance.</div>
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By that time he got married, and our attachment was getting faded. Our calls became very rare and less frequent. However we were connected through occasional mails, and seemingly meaningless activities through social networking sites.</div>
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On one night, when I was fast asleep, I was woken up by my cell phone ring. I had developed a habit of waking in the early morning, when my hostel mates were sleeping, in order to go on with my routine gymnasium visits. So, early to bed, and early to rise had somehow become my life policy, (though I rarely follow that policy nowadays).</div>
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I stretched my arms to get the cell phone in my half sleep state, might be the Non-REM state, I think I might have been sleeping without seeing any dream. Seeing my friend’s name on the cell phone, I attended the call, thinking what hell had made him dial my number at that unnatural hour. The time was between 1 and 2AM, so you can imagine what a sleep loving young man might be thinking at that time.</div>
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I could hear him breathing heavily, but I failed to identify whether it was because of tension or happiness.</div>
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“</span>Why brother? What happened at this hour?<span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">”</span> I asked without hiding my irritation.</div>
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“</span>Boy, I have become a father. My wife has just given birth to a baby girl. Oh she is so cute little one<span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">”</span>, he said while struggling to get breath.</div>
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<span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“</span>So? So what? Is it the time to call me to tell such simple matters? You call me at this hour to say such silly things?<span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">”</span> My voice was very rude, though I didn’t realize it.</div>
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<a href="http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/104/2/c/coupondunia_by_vernics-d4w5arj.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/104/2/c/coupondunia_by_vernics-d4w5arj.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“</span>Yeah man, you are the first one I call up to share my joy. Only your face came to my mind<span face="'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">”</span>, he said apologetically. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
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I doubt whether I had congratulated him. But that call didn’t last long. I cut the call, and returned to get back my lost sleep. Only the next morning I realized the serious mistake I made while treating my friend. It took a lot of time for me to realize how valuable my friendship was for him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
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My friend, I don’t know whether you remember this. My deed was indeed beyond forgiveness. But, still I am wholeheartedly apologizing for the mistake that I committed. Please forgive me! Won’t you?</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-21896565575031687692013-11-16T23:25:00.002+05:302014-07-24T18:18:43.056+05:30Adieu Sachin!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">T</span></b>oday, the
Indian sports icon Sachin Tendulkar retires from International cricket. It
makes me sad, just like every Indian and many other cricket lovers around the
world. Though his retirement was inevitable, I am sure everyone will be missing
the cricket legend as we know that Sachin will not bat for India anymore as he
has been doing till today.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-US">I was a boy
when I happened to notice the name Sachin frequently appearing in the sports
columns of newspapers during the 90s. Being a person with no affinities
towards sports, initially I failed to recognize the charm that every Indian
perceives behind the name Sachin. Cricket was just a meaningless act for me, but
it was Sachin who diverted my attention towards the game, towards the excitement and
unpredictability hid behind each ball that was thrown to the batsman at crease by
a bowler at the other end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YqrUZaen95Y/UoexMLe5eHI/AAAAAAAAFxo/3EIz390kz48/s1600/Sachin_Tendulkar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sachin Tendulkar" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YqrUZaen95Y/UoexMLe5eHI/AAAAAAAAFxo/3EIz390kz48/s320/Sachin_Tendulkar.jpg" height="320" title="" width="314" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sachin Tendulkar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-US">Later, I
too started to watch cricket, not for watching the game, but just to see Sachin
playing it. When he was at the crease, it was a relief for us. All Indians put
the burdens of high expectations on Sachin’s shoulders. And he many times,
single-handedly carried those burdens and lead India to victory in a great
chunk of first class cricket matches.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">I had
noticed my pulse was beating terrifically while watching a game. I counted and found it
was nearing hundred. The occasion was when Sachin and Australian fast bowler
Glen McGrath came face to face for the second time. When they encountered for
the first time, it was McGrath who claimed the victory. He dismissed Sachin
when he was yet to take his first run in the match. So, the second time, they
met, expectations and curiosity were at high rise. But as a person, who
disliked the dominance of any bowler on him, Sachin punished McGrath in the
first ball itself for a gigantic sixer. Though he could take only 21 runs or
something in that match, the vigor Sachin displayed was enough to overcome the dominance
of McGrath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">I know we
might not be seeing him playing again in the international games. No chance to
see the shots that dispelled to the boundaries through his marvelous ground
shots. I loved the way he hit fours rather than his sixes. Those terrific shots
were magical. I was lucky to see him getting the first ever double century in
one day matches. Back then I was a journalist, was watching the game in TV live
in order to update the live scores in the web news portal for which I was
working. Don’t remember how many times I cursed MS Dhoni(a great player, of
course) for not giving him the strike to complete the double century, when India
was at the winning side. But, the caption I prepared was ready in the heading
section, and I needed just a single click to publish it.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Now, I don’t
watch cricket much. Being not an ardent admirer of cricket, watching the game
on TV never had given me pleasure even in the winning matches. But I remember,
whenever I enter a place where TV was switched on with live cricket streaming,
be it a coffee shop, a bar, my home, or a friend’s home, I used to ask, Has Sachin
bat, how much he scored? I know everyone would have asked the same question on
many instances. After this, we will not be asking this question. But I doubt without remembering Sachin, or making a brief mention about him, whether I would be able to pass any game after this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Attached below is a collage I made using my pictures and Sachin's. I know it is a stupid comparison, but still..</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wJYdShaN7X8/UoexUhTN8SI/AAAAAAAAFxw/EkL9dn5Z8u8/s1600/sachin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sachin-Tomz Close Enough Collage" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wJYdShaN7X8/UoexUhTN8SI/AAAAAAAAFxw/EkL9dn5Z8u8/s640/sachin.jpg" height="265" title="" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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Thank You Sachin for enriching my boyhood days and youth with your mesmerizing shots, sportsmanship and personal charisma displayed when you were at the crease. Thank You for being the emotion of millions of Indians.</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-47688826871834535962013-10-07T22:38:00.002+05:302016-12-10T19:41:17.967+05:30The Scent of Love - 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Whenever he was at his home or somewhere, separated from the college campus, the fragrance of jasmine flowers gifted him the memories of Tina. His imaginations of Tina took life when his olfactory glands got the sensation of Jasmine. He lived with her in his fantasies when the fragrance of Jasmine flowers surrounded him, when the waves of a distant music touched his eardrums. Every night he dreamed her; and in his dreams, Tina inadvertently raised her face, and showered a beautiful smile for him. While walking through the streets, while doing some routine jobs, when the wind inadvertently brought the fragrance of Jasmine flowers to his nose, Tina came to his font walking from an unknown and unexpected universe.</div>
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Albert was never able to open up his heart in front of Tina. Being dangerously shy, Albert had many times purposefully avoided the situations in which he could have been together with her. His unrequited love had made him an introvert at some point of time during his college days. Tina was an outgoing type. She never came to know about her shy college mate’s increasing feelings for her. She never had any hint on the grade of madness that a person suffers due to his inability to confess his love for her.</div>
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An angel does not make a good spouse in marriage. Albert always continued to think about her as an angel. So he quit loving her, because of his inability to confess love. But wherever the destiny took him, on the beautiful paths of his life, Jasmine flowers showered scented smiles for him, and he was never able to forget Tina.</div>
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Rain was gradually sinking. Albert found himself standing below the Grand Mum tree completely soaked. He wondered, what was that which shifted his three years old memories of Mili to eight years old memories of Tina. It was the scent of Jasmine flowers, brought by the rain drops and wind. </div>
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For Albert, waiting for Mili was not a new experience. After three years long separation, they were going to meet again that day. It was just one night before, he got a call on his phone from an unknown number. When he attended it, a very recognizable voice echoed from the other end. Mili! How he could have forgotten her voice? He wondered.</div>
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They agreed on a rendezvous, the Grand Mom Tree in the Rajaji Park, where they used to frequent. The rain was not unanticipated. Because, Albert knew that the nature would be keeping something unanticipated every time for him and her.</div>
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Mili appeared with an umbrella in hand, along with the sunlight that was brightened following the rain. She came like a breeze, carrying all the beauty of the wind. He watched curiously at the changes happened to her face. She still has that mysterious smile, he thought. He was curious about her long time separation,</div>
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“I wanted to be grown older Albert. I wanted to shed my immaturity”, she said.</div>
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He laughed it off. She apologized for the long time absence from his life.</div>
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“I learned that I could never stop loving you”, she revealed.</div>
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She was despondent after their last meeting at Albert’s apartment. Her only option was to go to the hiding of another city, where she grew up, in order to save her from the mixed emotion she had developed.</div>
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They remained sometimes in silent, looking at the edges of universe located far away at the opposite ends.</div>
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“What is your plan now?” She asked.</div>
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“I want to live just like this. If I get a companion for life, I will make sure that it will be a trusted lifelong partnership”, Albert said.</div>
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They wanted to be together again. They recollected the events of their togetherness. How they spent time in restaurants, theatres, parks, and in beaches; how they shared the same umbrella while walking through the streets during hot noon times, and how they ran to find a shelter under the local shops when the rain all of a sudden extended its tentacles towards them.</div>
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“Mili, I believe my life with you will be happy and funny. Even though we are humans, I will try my best to make a heaven for you. I will not make you sad, I promise”, he asked at the end, “Will you be mine?”</div>
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He saw her eyes were wet then. She was trying to smile between tears. He opened her arms for her, and in moments, she rushed to the shelter of his embrace.</div>
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Holding the hands of each other, they walked to the other end and disappeared. The Grand Mom Tree wished them good luck by waving its tree trunks.</div>
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A slight breeze came touching the leaves of the trees, carried the light tint of the fragrance of Jasmine flowers away, which had been lingering there the whole time. </div>
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(The End)</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-46475971718992107912013-10-06T22:43:00.001+05:302016-12-10T19:38:04.020+05:30The Scent of Love - 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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“What are you looking at, Mili?”, the question came from his throat.</div>
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“Nothing”, she shrugged her shoulders instantly without turning back.</div>
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He placed his jaw on her shoulder, and smelt her shampooed hair. When his breath tickled her, she responded by slightly twisting her neck, and lifting her shoulder. When his arms covered her hip and held her close from behind, she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. He loosened his grip, and made her stand facing him. Looking deeply into her eyes, he said her that he loved her. Their lips mated, and it lasted for minutes. When it was over, she was fully turned on. He led her to his bed, and made her recline on it. His fingers caressed her shivering physique from tip to toe; his lips touched and felt the sensitivity of her skin, while it was getting revealed more and more.</div>
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It was the noon time, might be the hottest of the season. Below the ceiling fan, which was revolving in full momentum, Albert and Mili explored the hidden sensual magic. When she silently requested for his love with eyes full of lust, he took her to newer forages of love through continuous strokes and fondling. She cried, and closed her eyes, when they became unified in one motion. The tiny golden hair everywhere on her body projected out of follicles in admiration of his zest and zeal.</div>
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After it was over, when Albert and Mili rested on the bed looking silently at the momentum of the fan above, she unwrapped a chewing gum and put it in her mouth. With his eyes closed, he felt the fresh smell of chewing gum filled in the room, while her delicate fingers moved stealthily through his bare chest. But, when he opened his eyes after hours, he realized that he was alone in the room. A lighter tint of the aroma of chewing gum was still lingered around, as a sign of the lustful moments that had passed.</div>
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Albert hadn’t seen her after that. He tried to call her, but no one was there to respond. It worried him. There was a girl with whom he shared his love, but now no evidence of that love was remaining. He felt that he had been cheated. On such depressed nights, with a heavy heart, he despondently reflected about his lost innocence. Then came to his mind, to console his sad-stricken soul and heart, his teenage crush Tina, unveiling the dust-coated curtain of past memories.</div>
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He had visions in which the fragrance of fresh Jasmine flowers tickled his nostrils, while the smiling Tina, made a quick peep at his recollections. He found resort and rest in the thoughts of scented Jasmine flowers, which carried his delicate heart to his innocent younger days.</div>
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Albert was just seventeen. A very immature boy, who had never dared to look into the eyes of a girl. He never believed that he had the capability to attract a girl, which ruled out the possibility of him falling in love. But he understood that his realizations were wrong, when he first saw Tina, when their eyes met by the pure choice of destiny, when their eyes trapped in that universal lock for seconds, producing lightning strikes. He knew that his concepts about himself and love were wrong. He could also fall in love, and she was an angelic girl, with a beautiful and cheerful smiling face.</div>
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His study times were troubled by the intermittent appearance of her smiling images in front of his virtual eyes. Imagining the girl’s figure in his mind, he had loved her very dearly. He fantasized a future, in which she lead him to the wonders of love, where they lived for long, somewhere beneath the different layers of dreams, fondling memories and music.</div>
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Tina used to sing on stages. Once, when she was singing on the stage, Albert with palpitating heart, went to the front portion of the auditorium and sat on one of the first rows. His presence turned everyone’s head, as he had put some intense-smelling Jasmine flowers in his pocket. Its strong seductive aroma surrounded him. When his close friend asked him about the Jasmine flowers in his pocket, he said him secretively,</div>
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“It has her smell, Tina’s!”</div>
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He listened to her song, all the time watching her. Sometimes she glanced at him, which made him happy. Each of her glances had the power to stimulate him romantically, and the Jasmine flowers in his pocket carried him and her to a wider and greener meadow in his visions, where he found him and her alone. Her song echoed in his mind all the time, gracefully. He kept on sensing the beguiling aroma of the flowers, watching her admiringly, while imagining a halo around her head.</div>
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(The story will be completed in the next chapter)</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-4573190473546286262013-09-19T22:17:00.001+05:302016-12-10T19:38:50.389+05:30The Scent of Love - 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Albert got depressed, as his moral consciousness was very dominating. When he weaved sexual illusions around her thoughts, he had regret for fantasizing about a girl who had developed a strong trust in him. </div>
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Albert’s friends encouraged him to reveal his love for her. </div>
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“I will go mad being unable to reveal my love for her”, he lamented.</div>
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Albert still remembered that incident, on a sunny day, when they both were walking through the solitary tracks of the Rajaji Park, he got irritated by her chewing habit. </div>
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“Mili, stop masticating like this, and listen to me”, Albert exasperated.</div>
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That was for the first time, Mili saw a variant expression from him. He appeared to her only as a nice guy, someone she could have confided her wishes and secrets. But the infuriated appearance clearly disturbed her.</div>
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“But Albert, you said it has a pleasant smell, and you like it, no?” Chasing Albert, and blocking his path, she asked showing emotionally wet eyes.</div>
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He didn’t answer. But when she pestered him with the same question, he felt regret for shouting at her, for making such a lovely girl so desperate. When his eyes also filled with tears, he put his fingers on her shoulder in order to console her. He didn’t know what he was doing, when he pulled her towards him, and when her lips were trapped between his. That lock of lips lasted for some seconds. He loosened his clutches only when she started to resist, when she realized that she was kissed on her lips by her most trusted friend. She was very furious, and she lashed at him for breaking the trust. Albert had difficulty in facing her, though he was happy at the new evolution in their relationship. But, when he walked away, she felt that she was deserted after being stolen so mercilessly. </div>
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She wanted to know if what he had in his mind for her were real feelings. She questioned him. He found her confused posture, wet eyes, trembling lips, and her expanding and contracting bosom as somehow provocative from his male point of view. He caught her in another embrace, and he led her towards another passionate kiss, which lasted longer.</div>
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“I always loved you Mili, I love you very much, I can see you only as my lover”, he confessed while kissing her on her face, on her eyes, and on her neck. That day Albert was very happy, though Mili was a bit disturbed by the sudden change in their relationship. She was worried about falling in love again, since earlier when love happened to her, it had given her heart pain and worry.</div>
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They went to theatres, bunking her classes, and taking half day leaves from his office. In theatre, when everyone found comfort and misery in the moving shades on the screen, his fingers caressed her sensitive and delicate thighs, tight-fitted in jeans, slowly, and affectionately. She tried to control her smile, biting her lips. But, when he stopped loving her like that, she wanted those tickling touches again.</div>
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“We are sinning Mili, I am worried”, he whispered on her ears. </div>
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“My friends do more than this with their boyfriends”, came a daring reply from her.</div>
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She shared her lunch with him. She fed him with the same spoon from her tiffin box. After such many encounters, they wanted to do more than just touching and fondling.</div>
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It happened on a hot summer day. Albert’s friends had left for home as it was a weekend. However, he remained there in his single room apartment, expecting Mili. When he heard calling bell, he opened the door, and let Mili enter the room. She was shaking a bit. The hot noon had turned her cheeks into crimson, enhancing the charm of her fair complexion. The velvet jeans, and the black sleeveless kurti with full of red flowers enhanced her beauty.</div>
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He gave her some fruits. He showed her old photographs, in which a younger him smiled mischievously at her. He showed some of his advertising assignments, captions wrote for print ads, and sought her opinion regarding them. She walked to the window, and gazed outside holding the windowsill. Watching her posture from behind, he recognized her as the most beautiful creature in the whole world. His heart craved for her. He wanted to show her how much he cared for her, how much he loved her. He slowly approached her, and stood just behind her to see what she was watching.</div>
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(To be Continued)</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-90852061079091422692013-08-31T19:09:00.001+05:302016-12-10T19:39:57.943+05:30The Scent of Love-2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Chapter 2</b></div>
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When the media campaign started rolling, many girls and boys who worked in the assignment rang up at the office and asked for more works, and some appeared in person. But Mili didn’t show up, even though she was well placed in the advertisements. Albert’s office didn’t have her number too, to call her in the pretext of giving appreciations for the team’s good work.<br />
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Albert remembered a Sunday; when he was in a shopping mall, he immediately had Mili’s thoughts. His eyes became wider, and his face assumed an alarming look, when a couple just passed him. The woman of the pair had a fragrance that appeared like the smell of the chewing gum. But, the girl wasn’t Mili. He suddenly saw her face in his imaginations, vividly, chewing all the while, and presenting an impish smile for him. He realized that he was falling in love with a girl, whom he had seen only once.<br />
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He accidentally met Mili on the street, some days after. She was walking against him, carrying a rainbow coloured umbrella in her hand, and an academicians’ bag on her shoulder. Her glasses were totally dark in the day light. </div>
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Seeing him, she happily smiled. Though it was their first meeting since the ad shoot, he felt that they had been seeing each other for a long time. They spoke sans any apprehension, freely, as if they were friends since long.</div>
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“It is a very hot day. If you want, you may come under the shades”, she invited him.</div>
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When she came close to him and let him also enter beneath her umbrella, the intense smell of her chewing gum pierced his nostrils. </div>
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“Do you eat chewing gum always?” He asked.</div>
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“I don’t! I just chew them”, smiling heartily, she said. Smile is a good match for her face, Albert thought.</div>
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“But, somehow I am addicted to it, if that’s what your question meant”, she added.</div>
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“It has a pleasant smell”, Albert mentioned.</div>
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“A sexy smell?” she asked naughtily.</div>
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“I don’t know if it is sexy. Why do you think so? ” Albert posed a question.</div>
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“It’s my friends’ opinion”, carelessly she said.</div>
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“Oh, you have so many friends to make such comments? ”, he remarked enviously. </div>
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Standing below her umbrella, Albert noticed a pair of playfully smiling eyes through her specs. The smile on her eyes gradually spread towards her cheeks, making it all red and finally reached her mouth, letting her scarlet lips split apart. When her womanly smell – the smell of an excited woman – combined with the smell of her chewing gum stirred up him, his blood boiled. He wanted to simply put a kiss on her lips. When she noticed his eyes assuming a different color, she suddenly said,</div>
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“See, I have one more, if you want it”, pulling out a chewing gum from her bag she gave it him.</div>
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Albert smelt it. Unwrapping the cover, he put it in his mouth, and began to taste it as if he was chewing something which was very delicious. She laughed at the way he tasted it.</div>
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Albert reflected deeply about their initial love blooming days. He was introduced among her friend circle as her best friend. His profession as an ad film maker was acceptable among her scholarly friend circle. She was pursuing MPhil in Sociology. An MPhil graduate, who should belong to the cluster of intelligentsia, how got an interest in modeling? he wondered. </div>
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“I don’t like to be trapped in the restrictions set by any profession,” that was her reason for that.</div>
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They both went to eateries on holidays. When they engaged in talks sitting opposite, his sinful eyes wandered unintentionally from her face to downwards, escaping the eye contact they had been maintaining. Albert had guessed that Mili was getting enough hints regarding his growing attraction for her, through some unintentional gestures of passion.</div>
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He day-dreamed Mili every now and then. In every such reveries, her luscious figure charmingly invited him to the pastures of pleasure with a gum in mouth, all the time jawing close to his lips, sensually. Every morning, he woke up imagining the smell of a woman’s sweat blended together with the smell of chewing gum.</div>
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<b>(To be Continued)</b><br />
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-19236929031225142732013-08-09T22:02:00.001+05:302016-12-10T19:39:25.347+05:30The Scent of Love-1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Chapter 1</b></div>
Standing below the Grand Mom Tree in the Rajaji Park, Albert eyed lazily the surrounding greeneries. Seeing the flowers, the rusted old metallic chairs, and the couples who sat on them, he imagined that some of his looming memories were engaged in playing Hide and Seek below the tree trunks and between the flowering plants and creepers. It was a drop of water that fall on his face, as the harbinger of the rain, woke him up from his thoughts.<br />
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Albert’s memories traversed back while his eyes scanned the surroundings. Exactly three years back, when he sat waiting at one of those metallic seats, it had been drizzling slightly. That was a soothing, romantic, but pitiful touch of wetness. The couple who sat at the next chair rushed to their vehicle before the flimsy hands of rain could catch them.<br />
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That day, Albert with contempt in heart, remembered the agony of not seeing his girl. When he rang up her fully agitated, she picked the phone and said casually and mockingly,</div>
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“Can’t you see Albert? It is raining heavily. How could I come outside now?” </div>
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Hours long hopeful wait just shattered. It is like that! When you desire something for long with full of confidence and trust, you would not be able to cope with reality after it is lost. You will still be waiting, but that wait will be an agonizing one, never as sweet as you felt it before.</div>
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Remembering those three years old love-stricken times he spent with Mili, Albert remained in the rain that just attained force. It was rain that took his memories three years backwards. Nature always has that wonderful ability to make our memories sway between past and present. He didn’t feel to rush to find a shelter of any of the nearby shops, or in the comfort of his car parked some yards away at the public parking slot. Some years back, he was full of joy irrespective of the seasons, though he wasn’t a financially comfortable person like he is now. But now, the fortune he earned has made him a lazy guy. All wet in the rain, Albert sat there on the half wall at the entrance of the park. At a distance, he could see the old metallic chair that he used to frequent with Mili during his first years in that city.</div>
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Albert learned, apprenticed and became a master in the Advertising field. He was a trainee copywriter in the beginning, and later was appointed in the video division of the same advertising agency.</div>
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Albert remembered the day, when a pretty urban girl wearing specs stepped into the shooting floor with some other boys and girls of the same age. She was cast as one of the several models; to pose for a photo shoot as part of a national ongoing media campaign about the importance of putting one’s vote. She had a face that missed smile very badly, as Albert had observed at the first sight. She used to fondle her straight golden hair over and over again. Hair golden locks scattered all over her face, when she threw her face to the other side pompously. </div>
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Albert had to brief about the assignment to all models individually. When the girl who caught his immediate attention was called, he found that he was being stared by two piercing eyes of her. It was the girl, Mili! When he tried to smile at her, she just nodded posing a grim face. From the moment Albert saw her, he noticed that the girl had a chewing gum in mouth. She might have been using it to make her appear cool and headstrong. When he tried to intimidate her by breaking into her personal zone, the intense aroma of the chewing gum pierced his nostrils. </div>
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Mili was excited, when she was given an overview of the pose that she needed to apply for the photo shoot. Albert noticed that she had a sensually stimulating womanly aroma, and he found it as a fragrance. The mixed smell of her chewing gum and the smell of her pheromones loafed around him, and tickled his olfactory glands even after she left.</div>
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During the shoots, Albert glanced at her standing behind the shooting crew. When she posed to the suggestions by the director and photographer, she looked at Albert for his approval nod. </div>
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<b>(To be continued) (An attempt to write online novels)</b></div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-50376069766221507702013-07-24T22:46:00.000+05:302014-07-23T17:24:13.889+05:30Password – A Short Film<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>Vanity Moments completes 6 years in the Blogosphere today. This post is a dedication.</i></div>
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Six years back, when I joined the social media sites out of sheer curiosity, starting with Orkut, and later shifting to Facebook, while creating identities in many of the other popular social media sites, I never imagined that the online living was going to influence me in such a gigantic way. I never envisioned that there I could find a second world, a different way of living, encompassed with all the emotions and relationships that humans possess in the real world.</div>
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Six years back, on a July 24 just like today, when I created a space in the Blogopshere with such a silly reason of finding an online space to flaunt an amateur video that I created during my studentship days, I never guessed that the same blog was going to be a part of my life after that. I never knew, as my Blogging life progresses, I was also acquiring a second citizenship in the virtual world, with rights and spirits, with friends around to tease and get teased. I am personally thanking to all those in the virtual world, who have supported me during many occasions of hardships and adversities, with nice words of consolation, and soothing pats on my soul. </div>
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My latest short film Password is a dedicated to my friends and experiences that I earned from the online world. It is completely inspired from my own personal experiences. Since the Blogging habit has led me to building great friends that I met only via online, this is the best day to post it in my blog.</div>
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Please take some time to watch the short film online, and let me know what you think about it. Also share with me if any of the incidents narrated in this has touched you in any way.</div>
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Thank You!</div>
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<b>September 19, 2013: Update</b><br />
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There was a small write-up about the film in Deccan Chronicle on September 14, 2013<br />
<a href="http://www.deccanchronicle.com/130914/entertainment-mollywood/article/brand-new-password" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.deccanchronicle.com/130914/entertainment-mollywood/article/brand-new-password</a><br />
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-65464406991159043282013-06-30T21:57:00.000+05:302014-07-23T17:26:29.981+05:30The Story of a Murder<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>(Previously written for contest)</i></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">W</span></b>ith nervousness, I stepped in to the police station, when I was summoned by the officer with two stars on his shoulder. The officer, who was a gentlemen, quite unlike the policemen type whom I got acquainted through fiction, and films, flashed a hearty laugh, but covered in an alarming kind of look, as soon I was shown up.</div>
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He asked me to take a chair in front of me, which I accepted. He asked my name, and some vital information, and finally asked sharply,</div>
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“Mr. Roshan, do you know why you are here?”</div>
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I shrugged my shoulders while making a noise indicating the negative sense, by releasing my lips swiftly at the same time letting the air pass out through the slit created between the lips.</div>
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“You said you are living in a rented apartment with your half brother named Abel?”</div>
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“Not quite so,” I said, and made my point once again clear, “I ‘was’ living there till I left that place a few weeks ago…”</div>
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“Okey”, the officer interrupted. “One question, you said he was your half brother. How you both are related?”</div>
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“We both have the same father. After my mother was dead, he married again, and Abel was born”</div>
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“Okey..Okey..”, he nodded. After thinking for a few seconds, he looked at me and asked me, “And now where you are living?”</div>
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“I am not currently living in the city. I stopped the life here and decided to go back to my own past settlements”</div>
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“What does that statement mean, Mr.Roshan?” </div>
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“Sir, I did several jobs here, and met with failure most of the times. So I decided to go back to my native place, which happens to be a suburb of this city, tucked some twenty kilometers away from this place”. I told him the correct location. The officer ordered a constable to check the whereabouts I told him. He walked back, and asked me,</div>
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“Mr. Roshan, from your words, and from the description about yourself what I understand is that you are a desperate man”</div>
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“Yeah, kind of,” I agreed slightly embarrassed.</div>
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“Desperate means, doubtful, skeptical, and sometimes very prone to do violent things, like killing a person, even if he is your brother” the officer said watching me keenly through a pair of inquisitive and sparkling eyes.</div>
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I was startled and looked at him questioningly.</div>
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“Mr. Roshan, your brother Abel was found murdered last night in the same apartment where you both had been living for the past days”, he said.</div>
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For some moments, I couldn’t believe my ears. It was like getting a thrash on my head with a hammer. I felt that everything in the room was circling me. I screamed aloud.</div>
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“Stop that scream!” the officer ordered. “Because you are the prime suspect.”</div>
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“No..No..”, I cried aloud, trying to cover both my ears. The officer walked towards me, sat on the table close to me, and said, “Roshan, we have every reason to count you as the culprit,”</div>
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I tried to prevent him from accusing me again. But he kept on asking me questions.</div>
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“Roshan, your statements are contradictory. You said you were living away from the city. If so, how the police found yourself clad in blood stained clothes in the morning in front of the same apartment where your brother was stabbed and killed brutally?”</div>
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“Sir, I don’t know anything sir. I was rung by him yesterday. He wanted to see me as he had to share with me some important matters,” I said.</div>
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“From where he called,” </div>
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“He called from his cell phone number,” I said. When the officer asked me to proceed, I continued. “As it was not usual for him to share things with me, I decided to not visit the city. But in the evening, I thought I would make a quick visit in the night itself, so that I can go back today morning itself. Besides, I had to collect something from him which I left in the apartment last time when I quit that place. So, I decided to come by the night itself”</div>
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“At what time you started your journey from your home?”</div>
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“Sir, I caught the last local train, which was at 11 O’clock in the night.”</div>
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“That means, probably you could reach the city within half an hour. So by 11.30, you reached your brother’s apartment?”</div>
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“No sir, I had to walk all the four kilometers to reach the apartment after getting down at the railway station. Since I did not get any bus that way, I preferred to walk after eating and drinking some tea and snack from the wayside eateries”</div>
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“So, at what time you reached your brother’s apartment?”, the officer asked me in a shrewd manner. </div>
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“By 3 O’clock in the morning” I said.</div>
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“Let me see”, the officer mused, “I can walk two kilometers in half an hour. That means, you could have taken only 1 or utmost one and a half hours to reach the destination. If the time taken to eat the snacks is counted, you could have reached the apartment by 1 AM. Why did you take two hours more?”</div>
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“Sir, on the way back I witnessed an accident near the Rain-Tree Junction. I spent some time there”</div>
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“Oh, the tragic car accident happened at night. Okey, you witnessed that incident right?”</div>
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I nodded.</div>
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“Well, Roshan, Did your brother know that you were in the city. Did you have any phone contacts?” the officer asked.</div>
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“Yes, sir. Through our next door neighbor who called up on my phone twice in the night to check if I was on the way”</div>
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“Who is that?”, the officer questioned.</div>
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“Sir, it is Viky, the newspaper distributer, who lived in the next apartment,” I said.</div>
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“Oh, I see. It was this Viky who informed the police in the morning about the murder of your brother. He happened to see your brother soaked in blood through the window, and yourself sleeping in front of the verandah in a half conscious state with blood stained dresses. Mr. Roshan, let me ask you one question, what is the last thing you remember before you slept there?”</div>
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“Sir, by 3 O’clock in the morning, I reached the apartment. I knocked at the door, but my brother did not open the door. Since he was a heavy sleeper, I thought I would sleep on the verandah itself” I said with bitterness.</div>
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“Okey, do you remember anything strange before you went to sleep” the officer asked.</div>
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“Sorry sir, I was very sleepy that night, so I couldn't remember anything. But, I think it started slightly raining just that moment I reached the apartment” I said.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RVGay7HT0ic/UdBmY0-MEbI/AAAAAAAAFrM/7rCmRbZfT_w/s314/murder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RVGay7HT0ic/UdBmY0-MEbI/AAAAAAAAFrM/7rCmRbZfT_w/s400/murder.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>The officer looked at me for some moments. Then he said me in a lower voice. “Mr. Roshan, I don’t know if you are telling the truth. Contrary to that, there are several reasons to believe that you have committed the crime. You have the motive, you have the opportunity, and evidences are against you. But something makes me think that you are telling the truth. To be frank, I had received a prophetic kind of SMS last night on my cell phone from an unknown caller. Seeing the queer message on my cell phone, we tried to track the location of the messenger. But, by that time, we received information about the accident that you witnessed in the night. Since we need to cover the accident area, the case of the unknown caller was forgotten. If you want to see the message, I can show you that,” saying so, the officer pulled out his cell phone from his pocket, and showed a message he received last night.</div>
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The message read like this, “Just like Cain killed Abel, and blood quenches its thirst by drinking itself, another bloodshed will take place tonight”</div>
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I was locked up for some weeks for the responsibility of my brother’s murder. But the officer went on with his own investigation. Later the truth was surfaced. I was becoming a scapegoat for my own brother’s revenge. He was a drug addict. Cursing me for his failure, he decided to commit suicide and frame me for his murder. At the time I stopped association with him, he was almost doomed, because of his addiction for drugs. The night he planned to commit suicide, he invited me to his apartment. It was he who had sent an unknown SMS to the cell phone of the officer at the nearby police station. He was tracking my movements, by asking the neighbor Viky to call me from his mobile. When I reached the apartment, he was using sedatives and painkillers. He sprinkled blood on me hiding on top of the terrace, which I had mistaken for raining. And after I slept, he inflicted stabs on himself twice, but his death happened due to self poisoning.</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-4452639683038721902013-06-18T23:59:00.001+05:302014-07-23T17:27:21.241+05:30Chitrangada’s Father<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>(A short story previously written for a contest)</i><br />
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<b>I</b>nspector Meghnad had a tough cold that day. He sneezed and coughed inadvertently. While sneezing convulsively, he glanced at the constables, and saw some of them laughing at him in a hidden manner, seeing him trying to get the towel from his pocket. Though that irritated him a bit, he simply smiled at the head constable Somdev, since they had some years’ long friendship, which was immeasurable by the hierarchies. As they both were posted to that small town station, where criminal activities were scarcely heard of, both had found most often the life there as monotonous.<br />
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Head Constable Somdev left the station for his daily rounds. He used to visit the town highlights, meet people, and make friends with the gentlemen and ruffians alike. Meanwhile, Meghnad sent a sentry for one latest weekly from the nearby shop, and began to read once he got it. While reading his favorite novels to kill the time, he accidentally immersed into thoughts and successively into sleep. </div>
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When Meghnad was waked up from the sleep, he saw Somdev in front of him tapping his shoulders, so irreverently, as Meghnad felt. Scratching his eyes, Meghnad tried to get away from his impending sleep. Along with Somdev, an elderly man also was standing there in front of him. Meghnad watched him keenly. May be around his sixties, he had not shaved for several months, and was clad in torn dirty clothing. </div>
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Questioningly Meghnad looked at Somdev. As what Somdev informed, the aged man was trying to commit suicide, not alone, with a 3 year old little girl. Some people of the town found him trying to jump into the river, though initially they did not suspect anything. But, when they understood what he was aiming at, they caught him, and rescued the girl who was crying inconsolably. </div>
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“And where is that girl?” Meghnad queried after a short pause which he utilized for a quick sneeze. </div>
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Another constable brought a little girl, clad in a dirty dress. Seeing the girl, the inspector reflected deeply, taken strongly aback by the sad plight of the poor girl. He questioned the old man. Initially he said nothing. But when Meghnads tone of questioning changed into threatening, the old man opened up, </div>
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“I am Chitrangada’s father”, he said. “This is her child, my granddaughter. She is a little girl with no one to point out as her father”, he began to weep uncontrollably. </div>
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The Inspector shocked. His thoughts traversed back. Chitrangada was in news some four years back. She was abducted by a woman and a man. The man who was the woman’s accomplice in sex trafficking, first trapped Chitrangada, by making her fall in love with him using his sugary words, and gifting her cheap things which worth no money. As she was a silly girl, living with her poor father and mother, those gifts were big things for her. But later, this man and the woman abducted her. He used her for his sexual gratification first, and took her to a resort in a tourism destination. There she was presented to many people, who were adorning some powerful political chairs, and celebrity status. For over a period of one month she was transported from places to places and was presented to so many men as a “fresh piece”. She was in no position to protest, as she was threatened by the woman who abducted her.</div>
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When she was saved by some social workers and political activists, she was in a very broken state. The advocates who joined hands with the vile persons argued that she could have escaped several times from the clutches of her trappers, but she didn’t do it as she was enjoying all those men. The arguments raised by the people who rescued her that she was suffering from a kind of Stockholm Syndrome - which is actually the reasonless empathy that a captive feels towards his or her capturers - was not considered seriously by the jurors. In the end, all the persons who tortured her were acquitted and Chitrangada and her family were left with utmost pain and humiliation.</div>
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After his serious thoughts about those tragic incidents, Inspector Meghnad asked the old man to tell what happened now to see them both in such a situation.</div>
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The old man replied, “What could I have done sir? Upon sympathy, my daughter was given a minor job in a government sector, but everywhere she was humiliated and was mocked. She was a subject of lustful looks of and heinous comments by the vile persons. She was just treated as an object. She was pregnant, after those incidents, and she gave birth to a baby girl, and that girl is now with me”. Everyone in the police room looked that girl sympathetically.</div>
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“My daughter was undergoing depression, so one day she simply put an end to her disgraced life by hanging herself. Her mother also died due to cardiac arrest. To escape from that world of shame and tragedy, I decided to put an end to both of our lives,” the old man stopped his narration.</div>
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His story put Megnhad into utter confusion. He did not know what to do next. But as a solution, he decided to contact a Children’s Home bearers to take care of the little girl. He decided to not interfere into the case of denying justice to Chitrangada, as the incidence was also involved by some top police officials. Moreover, Meghnad never wanted to spoil his peace of mind.</div>
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One day later, the officials from Childrens Home came to take the girl. The old man with tear filled eyes, accompanied them to the car carrying the little girl on his shoulder. He said that it might be his last chance to carry her on horseback, and for her, which might be the last chance to enjoy such horseback rides, while her grand pa treads like a horse carrying her on his broad, yet weak shoulders.</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-16008444118438597032013-05-14T23:51:00.005+05:302021-09-26T14:43:16.926+05:30Lot of Hard Works<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My cousin brother called up one evening and asked me,</div>
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“Bro, you are free tonight? I want to introduce someone to you whom you might have nearly forgotten”</div>
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“Well, who could be that?” I wondered. He assured me that it would be someone who is related to me.</div>
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I was puzzled. A relative, who is so important? But leaving all the worries aside, when I followed him to a flat in the city, I met this person, but I could not recognize him.</div>
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But, he at once identified me, and said,</div>
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“Ah I remember you, you used to go school every morning carrying your school bag and water bottle. But you were very timid and slow. I can see now that you have improved a lot.”</div>
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But I was clueless about this person who knows very personal things about my childhood.</div>
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When explained, I identified him. He was my second cousin sister’s husband. I was remembering him. He used to stand in the front portion of his house carrying his little daughter every morning watching us going to school. We never acquainted, and were not very close, but with his facial features, I could still remember him.</div>
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When I recognized him, I didn't hide my curiosity, “Oh brother I remember you. It’s nearly twenty years since we met last time.”</div>
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He was carrying out some entrepreneurship in the city. He was building a very big hospital coordinating some charitable organizations. </div>
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I asked him about his success. He was not very eloquent, but still he was successful in making me understand how he came that far.</div>
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He remembered the hardships he faced while trying to achieve something. He was an employee of a bank. </div>
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During free times, he used to do small businesses. But one day his business was broken. He had to resign the job to save himself from his clients. </div>
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He ran away to a different place, where he tried to set up a small business, and tried to bring it up. He always had a vision, a dream, and that dream helped him to go forward even in the middle of adversities.</div>
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In between all these troubles, he used to visit his family, and by little by little he paid all his debts. Then only he could show his face among the people.</div>
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He earned the trust of the charitable organizations. He became successful in contract works. And when I met him he was in the construction works of the biggest hospital in South India.</div>
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I still feel that my brother’s success is a model for me. With courage, confidence and trust in the Almighty, he overcame all the difficulties and succeeded in life.<br /></div></div></div></div>
Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2259540605837115141.post-89944110622302809322013-04-10T01:05:00.002+05:302021-09-26T14:43:05.896+05:30It’s Normal for Brothers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span></b> still remember the days when I used to wake up enthusiastically in the early mornings and ride on my bike to a fitness centre located not very far away during my growing days in Trivandrum. I had friends there, who used to wait for me in the entrance, or in the locality of the ground where we did jogging and warming exercises before stepping into the roughness of the gymnasium. We used to be the gym mates, who usually help each other when one of us needed a support on the bench press bar, while doing heavy exercises.<br />
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Every day on our way back, after working out nearly for one or more hours, I had a regular stopover at a road side open tea shop. Despite of my gym mate’s warning on eating oily delicacies kept open to the air since the breakout of the morning, and tea prepared in not a very healthy manner, I found my craze for those goodies were getting increased. It became my habit to stop there every morning, and order a tea, while munching something oily by leaning on my bike which was parked close to the tea shop.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gCmUHYQo8xM/UWR3Rp_9SKI/AAAAAAAAFj0/KnzRejkKgWU/s1600/gym.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gCmUHYQo8xM/UWR3Rp_9SKI/AAAAAAAAFj0/KnzRejkKgWU/s400/gym.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
This particular day also, I did the same thing. While drinking the tea, seeing the college girls and working women walking to the nearby bus stop I found that I was late that day, at least by half an hour. I saw a few of girls walked past me. But, a few minutes later, my attention was diverted to the direction where the girls walked, when I heard some noises from there. </div>
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Just like every other onlooker, I also rushed to the spot, expecting something accident-like. But, I saw the girl who just passed me was standing there, all in tears in the middle of the crowd, while a local ruffian with a bloody nose tried to escape from another young man who tried to punch him. </div>
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From the explanation from the girl, what I deduced was something like this. This girl used to go to a textile shop nearby, where she worked as salesgirl. Every day she was ogled and became the victim of the lewd comments passed by this dirty ruffian. The first few days, she just tried to forget about the misbehavior by this jobless guy. But, when she felt that he was trying to break the limits, she complained to her brother. </div>
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On this particular day, this brother waited just among us in the pretext of going somewhere or having a morning tea from the tea shop. He saw her sister coming, and she signaled him with a move of her eyebrows that the villain was waiting just a few paces ahead. Her brother put an eye on him, while sipping the last drops of tea. When he noticed the ugly mannerisms from the guy, and the obscene comments his dirty tongue just delivered, he put the glass somewhere, and attacked the hooligan with clenched fist. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Giz1aKgqGz4/UWR3TVLv9lI/AAAAAAAAFj8/EbsF2Is1lgw/s1600/streetfight.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Giz1aKgqGz4/UWR3TVLv9lI/AAAAAAAAFj8/EbsF2Is1lgw/s400/streetfight.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The first punch itself was on his nose. So he couldn’t see where the punches were coming in. He knew he was being beaten up by someone very energetic, while a few people tried to separate them. The girl, all in tears, explained everything to the curious crowd, and the gathering was dissolved in a few minutes, when the local chap got a warning from the law-abiding crowd on his misbehavior for the final time.</div>
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I still remember her brother’s timely involvement and the risk he took in order to save his sisters pride. Salute to him! He is a real soldier who stood for women.</div>
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Tomzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13809990191742945893noreply@blogger.com1