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Darling of an insipid introspection,she blossomed like a ravishing flower,nodded her head in all directions for the currents of wind that blew across, but was omnipotent and later omnipresent.she was called "silence", an effort of diligence,the outcome of a sacred surveillance."i am more sinned against than sinning"!
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"Bob, what are you rebelling against"? - against-> a placid and lucid status-quo that every normal bloke knows is disgustingly tough to disrupt!.All i need is a little time,besides time is all that a man needs, the rest is nothing but illusion.status-quo inevitably turns out to be an essantial illusion.

what?

yeah,"what" remains as a word coined for questioning,however better than "why"

trapped inside some clean ironed clothes,
i choked and suffocated,
the rebellion seems to bein vain,
there seems to be no get away -

It is like chasing a fortune that started running to the opposite direction long back.Fortune to the "right" and me to the "left"- the obvious choice,but here it happened that fortune long back started running to the "right". oh! someone like José Arcadio Buendía proved in vain that earth is a sphere. All i need is a little time and on the sphere i am expecting a bizzare clash with that "fortune" who turned his back to me and started running.It can be the apogee of the rebellion.There is no rebellion without a cause and for sure no rebel without a cause.Mesmerized one's fail to identify the cause, as jose saramago in his lovely tale "stone raft" tells :It is a common knowledge that every effect has its cause,and this is a universal truth,however,it is impossible to avoid certain errors of judgement,or of simple identification,for we might think that this effect comes from that cause,when afterall it was some other cause,beyond any understanding we posseses or knowledge we think we have!
For sure the cause and effect relationship still holds a point or more!
tuck! there is a blockade! a suicide bomber in the way! kudos to him!

"shame is a revolutionary feeling" thats what karl marx told. T got up hearing this. T has always wondered why he was conferred on this name. he had started to abhor his name, because during the usual introspection in to his life he understood that T is one horrible letter. he sighed. he was happy that, he was not conferred names like treachery, torment, tumult,travail, tableau, taboo, taciturn and taint. he thought that the letter T itself is being abhored, now if it was something that starts with T or end with T , it would have been tumultous.

T, through his constant introspections had became taciturn. he did not want to open up himself . the places he went were dead or appeared to be dead for him. he flet as if there is no activity going on around.he often rewound his thoughts, he felt his vision has turned out to be black n white of late. past seems to be more colourful, he thought. T was optimistic though, he saw a faint light at the end of the tunnel. he wanted to cover the the whole distance in a split second. so he ran, but at times he felt so dejected and disgusted, he sat down not for minutes but for hours and sometimes for days . he got engrossed by a sense of futility.

engrossedd in nothingness, puzzled all the way T was getting suffocated. he wanted to break the shackles, he wanted to be free, free for ever but commitments forbid him from doing so. an ethical dilema ate up his brains. no brains, just nothingness!! to coin a sense he resorted to books. he started reading, but the books he read disturbed him more. his choice of books were not correct, ofcourse when all other choices he made went wrong , how can the choice of books be correct?? he sighed. he threw away the book . he was in search of somehting that is inspiring. he did find something, not a book , but unfortunately T's nothingness, sorrows and questions started to have an epidemic effect. now thats the last thing he wanted. people and things sharing the sombre atmospehere in which T was dwelling.he was sad because it might make those things or people feel stupid. he sighed. he thought.. why??? unintentional though...

At times sombre atmospehere lightens up! there is a rush of blood to ur brain , your pupils dialate. you think, you have the strength to over power the biggest behemoth on earth.T experienced this by reading some words .After a long hunt through so many pages of of so many books he got a piece that gave an adrenalin rush. he infact scribbled it on a piece of paper with his worst hand writing to make it feel original and posted it on the wall in front of him. ( in a day T is in front of this wall for a pretty long time.. ). the wall which is painted white, which has been the only brightest thing in front of him. the words go like this : I REMAINED THERE LOOKING AT THE WIDE SKY , THE RIVER FLOWING ON BLINDLY, A HORSE HALF ASLEEP, THE DIRT ROADS,AND THE KILNS- AND I BEGAN TO REALISE THAT , IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RAGWEED AND DUMP HEAPS AND THAT WHOLE FORSAKEN NEIGHBOURHOOD, I HAD SPROUTED UP NO MORE THAN A WEED MYSELF. WITH OUR BIG MOUTHS AND NO GUTS, WHAT ELSE WOULD GROW THERE BUT TRASH LIKE US?? THEN I THOUGHT NO, THAT THE WORSE PLACE THE TOUGHER IT HAD TO BE.

These words became a quintessential part of him. he rephrased and adapted him to the situation and reloaded himself , so that he had a rush of blood to his brains and his pupils dialated. He infact understood that shame is a revolutionary feeling. :)-

utterly butterly fiction! words flicked from streetcorner man : jorge luis borges!

am pretty happy for myself now. i finished reading "the catcher in the rye".Mr. salinger had done a commendable job!!
i aint no one to pass a comment like this, but have to. I really liked the way the book has been written.But it is shameful on my part to admit that
i never read this book earlier, because i think i should have read this long back. this is a problem pertaining to me.

I never read right books at right time, thats what i feel. what i mean to tell is that, for almost everyone the process of reading books spirals upwards
"ie" almost everyone starts off with books that can be easily dealt with , when they start reading. its like may be some Agatha christie or some Sydeney sheldon or may be some
Fed Forsyth, and then get to serious stuff.(exceptions will always be there!!).But in my case i never read anything till i was 16. That is horrendous.I actually dint find much time to
read books during these 16 years and ofcourse in this 16 include the time when you are really small,may be i can cut down around 4 yrs and make it horrendous
12 yrs.i rarely kept my hands on anyhthing that looks like a book,that was out of my curriculum.i was all the time running around playing football,cricket or
whatever i can but never grabbed a book.
so when i sat down to trace the history of my "reading", i just had to rewind my life only for 7 yrs.but the very starting of this 7 yrs was really horrible.i still remember, me
eargerly taking a membership in the city library and used to frequent that place coz some chicks used to come down there.
i did not have any idea about the books,but used to search each and every row and column of books and used to spend lil more time in scanning the book when i encounter a chick!! it was just fun
,kind of showing off too.most of the time i will be glancing through some serious book,like autobiography of chaplin and someother serious authors.
i swear i dint know anything about these books. the sad part of all these is that i neither struck up any conversations
with these chicks nor did i take any of those Harrold Robins book from there, in this stupid
eagreness to show off.i always knew,that business was not gonna go for long, and it dint .i
never stepped in to that place after my one year hollow stint.i had some membership fee pending,i never bothered to pay it, they sent scores of letters
home reminding me about it,i never bothered and one day i got a letter telling my membership was terminated.i never felt
touchy or something. i never cared for it. So some attempts to start reading something got bombed in a awkward manner!!
during this time neither issac assimov nor leo tolstoy could have induced reading in me ,coz i was never
interested in both of them.in short the reason for me not reading was simple, there was no story or prose that could have aroused my interest
,may be there would have been , but i never found one. But as time passed by i heard about ESP , people bending spoons by looking at them and things like that.Ah!
i was drawn in to the quagmire of parapsychology. a search in my fathers book collection made me find out some books about the reaearch that has been carried out in
russia during the communist regime in parapsychology.i grabbed it, devoured too... Obviously encountered all the problems of a rookie,but some how managed to complete it.
thats it. i read the first book! .. to be continued...

okie.. lemme put this way!! the catcher in the rye! i wanted to get hold of this book for a long, the obvious reason was that some of my junior in college told me abt the book and the effects it can produce on one. he told me it induced suicides! i really dunno abt that... anyway i was searchin for some book, an escapade from the scorching boredom thats grippin me now a days... and i realise that this book is not that one u shud grab when u r bored or feelin bad......
unusual in my case.. i read almost 3/4th of the book in a stretch. and im feelin so awkward.. not coz i personify myself wit the protagonist in the book.. but coz i feel its a wonderful book that has captured nuances of life in a very wonderful manner... and may be coz,im totaly disgusted by the book i read before this. "travels of marco polo" by aldo ricci.. what crap is it??