Saturday, May 30, 2009

Secunderabad Diaries

Its humid nowadays; the city is recuperating from the spell of intense heat that had been unleashed on it for a month and a half by the forces of nature, and is slowly limping back to normal. Today, I am all alone in the house, as everybody else has left for their personal work. The only person that I knew out of my office has gone to her home for three weeks, so I am trying to pass time by reading books of all kinds and watching movies and documentaries. I recently came across this documentary called "The Trials of Henry Kissinger", which I highly recommend for all those who claim to be intellectuals. The movie, though a tool for anti-imperialist thugs like the Communists, is an amazing expression of freedom, which I doubt if we shall ever be able to talk so openly about our 'great leaders' in such a critical way as well, even after their death.
Meanwhile, Hyderabad finally got a decent place in the form of GVK One at (you guessed it right), Banjara Hills. Its not opened up completely, but its worth the visit for sure.

Saturday, May 23, 2009


It felt strange for the first time
But yet it felt familiar
The sound of it was vague to me
And yet, somewhere it was similar

Similar to that of a thousand starlings in song
while I touched the daffodils in bloom
And the breeze blowing the hair of my face
Impishly playing with it
When I sit next to the window in my room

The words had a succulent taste to them
Made me remember the time I first sucked a Popsicle
And the juices playing with my taste buds
But it was heavenly like that; maybe more
Though you may call me fickle

There was a fragrance to the touch, as he
Raised my hand, and took it close to his heart
Like the fragrance of the first rain drops
That evoke such a mesmerizing scent
When they kiss the parched terrains.

His heart beat was fast, his hands were shivery
And yet, there was pleasure in both
As he said aloud to me "I love you Marie"
And my hands then went cold

"How can you play a trick like this?" I screamed
"Playing with the emotions of a blind girl?"
I picked my stick, and furiously waved it
As I tried to find my way back home

Just then, he yoked the stick out of my hands
And yanked me back towards himself
And before I knew what became of me
He was kissing me, and I lost myself
To him, as we kept kissing each other for long

What Vinay Sitapati Has Missed Out –The BJP-RSS’ View of India As seen in Fictional Writings by Deendayal Upadhyaya

  There has been a lot of discussion about Vinay Sitapati’s book on the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) in the pre-Modi era, especially the Ju...