tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29876780825011400482023-11-16T06:42:47.585-05:00The Second ActThe first transition. <br>The discovery of a new way, and that endless opportunities exist.<br> A period that establishes the theme; follows the customary introductions and precedes the inevitable end. <br>Dedicated to discovery and definition. <br>The Second Act is home to infinite possibilities.Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-12575268566979740652012-06-25T14:30:00.000-04:002012-06-25T14:30:53.060-04:00Enter the Dark Side
“The crime rate in the city has increased manifold. … A 45 year old was hacked to death as she tried to fight the chain snatchers. … The identity of the girl has not been established yet. We suspect rape but the forensics has confirmed there were no such signs. … The body of a toddler was found rotting in the drainage”
‘What has the world come to?’ he wondered as he sipped his latte and waited Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-36863972298578767532011-11-20T17:20:00.002-05:002011-11-20T17:48:31.044-05:00After Life
Paradiso by Gustave Doré
Oh, the day had come, the one of judgment. I wasn’t prepared, I hadn’t believed.
Some said there was one and others many;
Now I depart this world, I still wouldn’t believe.
So I set on the journey, to meet 'em at the pearly.
It wasn’t long, there was no wait.
I wondered how and about the rituals we make.
But there were no cues, no queues, suppose I needn’t Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-28518443074723262592011-08-22T23:51:00.001-04:002011-08-24T01:19:18.458-04:00The Stranger
It was an odd summer night, for there was a cool breeze in the air and on the barren plains. It was almost a pleasure waiting on the platform after another hard summer day’s toil. Unfortunately, she did not have to wait long, as the train arrived soon; and once inside, she took a deep breath of the controlled environment that she was so used to now. Five stops home, she thought, as she took a Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-32870335462362094252011-08-16T17:35:00.000-04:002011-08-16T17:35:46.163-04:00Self Inflicted
Perched high on a mountain top, you are screaming-
at times commanding, and some pleading.
You hear a thousand echo what you said.
The grave injustice, that you are handed out,
imprisoned by the world around;
you crave freedom from the invisible shackle and chain.
You speak now, the voice of a many people;
The suffering they had to endure!
You are concerned for their future and today.
Standing Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-1550556363607736082011-07-24T03:35:00.002-04:002011-07-25T02:53:43.893-04:00The story of a Life
When he was born, some said he was the product of love and the cynics called him the result of lust. But he knew he was merely the birth of two souls in one. Whatever you might think, or say, or even allow him to believe, he was created, given a form, and allowed to live. Creation has forever been a point of contempt for scientists and spiritualists alike. But he knew where he came from- Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-9109024715622144202011-07-11T00:26:00.000-04:002011-07-11T00:26:50.615-04:00The Gypsies<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-84954041594844188122011-07-07T02:47:00.001-04:002011-07-07T08:41:22.893-04:00Growing upIt had happened before. In fact, it has been happening all his life. Some people call it growing up and are awed by the miracle of this constant transformation. He plainly didn’t get it, or their apparent hypocrisy. Who in their sane minds would want to let go of a beautiful thing, for something so strange, the unknown, that only time would reveal, just a tad bit late.
It started even before his Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-21443581581972507682011-07-06T02:34:00.003-04:002011-07-06T10:02:14.493-04:00The Pursuit Of HappinessHappiness is like a wheel.
You keep moving ahead with glossy dreams of a destination.
As you get closer, more desperate you are to reach it.
And more tired as well, with all the distance you have covered.
Chances are, you are too worn out to enjoy your accomplishment.
Happiness is like a wheel.
There are spokes that meet at the center, yet following each other.
You keep trying to catch up with Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-22431155377567347982011-07-04T15:45:00.000-04:002011-07-04T15:45:47.012-04:00Ghost<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-44752107075746084822011-07-03T01:23:00.000-04:002011-07-03T01:23:06.324-04:00The Slums Appall Me<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-66407665727716961262011-07-02T22:07:00.001-04:002011-07-02T22:14:08.675-04:00Strange Friends, Stranger CompanionsI walked in and looked around. The dance floor, the lights, the music- although a tad annoying to my sensibilities, and a whole bunch of people looking to have a good time- drinking, dancing, making out, or all of it. This seemed a cozy place for a not so silent night. I do have a reputation for enjoying my drinks and being clueless about the real social scene. For I rarely understand a complete Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-6959966889314343372011-05-08T01:45:00.001-04:002011-05-08T01:46:49.158-04:00Beautiful
Have you seen a beauty queen
pageant, unmindful of the world around?
There is more to her life than parading
for gawkers, would you realize?
Many hold her on a pedestal,
imitate her every move in vain.
There is something ethereal about her
yet a mere mortal that would wither with age.
Some love talking about her,
the columns flood with her flaws.
But when she walks those majestic strides
Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-13749084426342852972011-05-03T02:51:00.000-04:002011-05-03T02:51:37.749-04:00Crash<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-21663769190675722042011-04-14T00:20:00.001-04:002011-04-14T03:18:35.417-04:00The Other Way
Playing the devil’s advocate is risky business; yet, every great implementation has this ordeal to thank for, in its conceptualization.
Corruption is affecting our society. “Power corrupts” is a reality. The problem arises from the fact that power is viewed as political, monetary or one derived from affluence or related status. As citizens of the free world, each of us enjoy a degree of Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-4046769759616063272011-03-29T22:04:00.000-04:002011-03-29T22:04:21.516-04:00The Sentinel<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-16072021259292610522011-03-29T16:11:00.001-04:002011-04-01T13:32:56.061-04:00Mind Games
“The crime rate in the city has increased manifold. … A 45 year old was hacked to death as she tried to fight the chain snatchers. … The identity of the girl has not been established yet. We suspect rape but the forensics say otherwise. … The body of a toddler was found rotting in the drainage”
“What has the world come to?”, he wondered as he sipped his latte and waited for her. He took a peep Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-55173646648487627442011-03-27T22:07:00.001-04:002011-03-27T22:17:01.726-04:00Moment, this
‘tis strange when you stop a while
take a look back and a peep ahead
you are not what you were
you are not what you want to be
in that moment you are not yourself
but only the best you try to be
You know you have aged
well past the glory days
the adrenaline still kicking
your body though not givin’ in
You know ‘tis not the sunset yet
there’s miles to go to the end
and you cannot wait to see it Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-84244432806422795772011-03-09T11:47:00.000-05:002011-03-09T11:47:47.397-05:00Al's Wish<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-43219092520778924142011-02-20T23:56:00.000-05:002011-02-20T23:56:35.748-05:00The Damsel In Despair<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-24088239203303072132011-02-17T11:37:00.001-05:002011-02-17T11:38:24.424-05:00Between SexesThey had only met and he was into her. Her number was on Facebook. He decided to flirt a bit; he would go for the scare.
“I know what you did last summer.” He texted. “How do you know about the operation?” read the reply.
In hindsight, he did figure she had a husky voice.Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-4240502784811181972011-02-15T01:07:00.000-05:002011-02-15T01:07:54.773-05:00RIP (Religion, Identity and Politics)<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-80433459554483382962011-02-05T23:21:00.001-05:002011-02-06T12:38:18.217-05:00Hazel Eyes
Hazel eyes
I love the color
In your eyes
They make me wonder
And I find myself lost in you.
Hazel Eyes
At times brown
like sweet chocolate
ofttimes green
emeralds shining
And they hold in them all that dew.
You can see
World's true beauty
Days and nights
with splendid twilights
And I will spend my life with you.
Hazel eyes
I see confusion
In your eyes
see my reflection
And I tell you my Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-12047652423983127742011-02-02T13:04:00.003-05:002011-02-06T12:38:39.648-05:00The SpadeIf I were to call a spade just thatI would probably have far less friends than I do
If I were to insult their intelligence
I would surely end up with none at all.
The Spade
If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably have to watch my back all the time
If I were to showcase my superiority
I would surely have a spade in my back.
If I were to call a spade just that
I would probably be Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-36051608333781306362011-01-30T17:56:00.002-05:002011-01-30T21:05:31.346-05:00Ode To Friends
When I was brought into this world,
I held the finger of a woman,
I called her my friend
and the ones she called family.
I was introduced to a man
whom I held in reverence all my life.
He knew everyone in the world
and the people he knew were my friends.
A few years older, and I was sent to school
I met people my size, little, shy and afraid.
Most were busy with their toys
and some enjoyed my Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2987678082501140048.post-35671983548999452492011-01-24T23:04:00.000-05:002011-01-24T23:04:12.712-05:00The Last Note<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12760393359740990722noreply@blogger.com0