Do I look like a goon out here??

Would u respond to a guy like this?

Grab your copy of Signature Telegraph Food Guide 2013 Now

Gaurav,Riddhima,Mainak and Sonika with one of the winners

Abir,Saheb,Riddhima and Parno in a Gossip Mood

Gaurav,Riddhima and Mainak posing before the press

So,what are you waiting for ????

Grab it Now : Your Ultimate Food Guide

 Grab your copy of SIGNATURE TELEGRAPH FOOD GUIDE 2013 now.

Photography : Ratul Banik

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? – Edgar Allan Poe.


                                                                        
                                                                    Life and death are the two most opposite extremities to each other but one is incomplete without other. It's like two sides of the same coin on and whether its head or tail,the motto is life must go on.What connects these two journeys is our soul. Life is nothing but a jug of water filled with emotions, desires and our crave for materialistic things. But when we see death it’s totally opposite as if the jug is still there but there is no water. There are many questions which arise in our mind ‘Is there any life after death’? Or simply ‘What is Life and death?’ Death is nothing but just a transformation of soul from one body to another and life is the journey of the soul towards death. I am not going into deep that whether life exists after death or not but the thing which truly amazes me is the ‘Rituals’ relating to life and death especially in Indian context.


                              India as we know is a land of diversities. There are many religions with different beliefs. We found that often when a person dies his death is treated as a sad incident that gives us negative vibrations. Everyone feels so depressed that the soul is not anymore within us. But I remember when I was in Bangalore and sleeping in room suddenly I heard some sounds of drums and saw fireworks bursting outside my windows. It was not a festival time then so I got a bit curious. When I went on the road I saw some people dancing with the music and all are very happy, to be precise in celebration mood. I was enjoying the moment until I realized that it was a funeral procession of a particular person. This incident left my mind with several questions and I was a bit amazed to see the incident. Later, when I was trying to analyze the situation I found it pretty meaningful. There are some people belonging to a particular religion who consider death to be a loss that’s why they feel remorse but on the other hand some believes that it’s a heavenly thing and that the person will achieve heaven or come back again is a reason to smile. We all live in India where we have differentiated ourselves with the name of ‘Religion’ but what we have failed to understand that whatever be the path it leads to the same destination. Cloud of faiths prevailing along the sky is that unique thing which makes ‘India’ so special.                                                 
                                          
                                                            Where the incident is the same death but it carries different meaning to different persons. What I truly believe is that indeed Death is the ultimate truth of life and is considered to be a sad event but it has some positivity in it also. Would there have been any life if there is no death? The circle of life completes here. We human beings are weak enough to go through this simple truth in fact the same is with me also but what I feel one should be remembered with the happy moments and success of his life, for his positive contributions to the society. The book of secrets of life will be unrevealed till that moment until we realize two basic things ‘Who am I’ and ‘What I am here for’. The rest is a journey. Some smiling faces while some crying, some good luck and some bad but whatever it is life must move on and the search for eternal truth must continue until we achieve salvation.
                                                            The boundaries of life and death seems to be so close to each other when we see the following  video which is a tribute to Edgar Allan Poe :-


 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mAS0Nt_o1wo


Now the question is one,Is Death the beginning of Life or Life the beginning of Death ????

This post bagged the WOW Batch :)

 This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

For more please visit http://www.blogadda.com/

My heart only ever had one thought, one want. One need. Despite all, in spite of all...All my heart has ever wanted is you.Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.
In my dream I know I am falling. But there is no up or down, no walls or sides or ceilings, just the sensation of cold and darkness everywhere. I am so scared I could scream. But when I open my mouth, nothing happens. And I wonder if you fall forever and never touch down, is it really still falling? I think I will fall forever.Tatoo your name across my heart, so it will remain / not even death could make us part / what kind is it / It could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare / either way I don't want to wake up from you.I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close.I know in my mind.I would leave you now If I had the strength to I would leave you up To your own devices Will you not talk Can you take pity I don't ask much But won't you speak.Please.Initially, I feel expansive when I try something new, and then contract as soon as I encounter difficulty or the unknown. I am learning to experiment with my tolerance of difficulty and the not knowing, in order to go further with my creative dreams.
Whenever I experience contraction, I explore it by asking, "Where did I stop and why?"Building a creative dream life is not just about achieving, succeeding, or "meeting goals." It is also about floundering, stumbling, tripping and failing. ”
I dreamt -- marvellous error! -- that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.All I wanted was a life where I could learn new things, where I could use and develop my talents. But most of all, I wanted a life that I could share with someone I could love beyond myself.
My soul gossip with my heart :- Don't open that door," she said. "The hallway is full of difficult dreams." And I asked her: "How do you know?" And she told me: "Because I was there a moment ago and I had to come back when I discovered I was sleeping on my heart.
I could never really manage to tell reality and my dream world apart, for the two of them co-existed together as they slid over top of each other.
I am just a dreamer, and you are my dream.

Crimson, blood-filled tears,
A gibbeted memory you left for me,
To keep with me for life.

Gibbeted while your hands moved ferociously-
Worked their way to your own profanes,
Regardless of my silenced, wrench-filled screamings-
Heedless of my days thereafter.

Your lips, that moved, where they desired-
Your tongue, smothering hot as fire,
Scars from burns received from your wretched wickedness-
Shall remain with me till my gibbeted end.

A gibbeted life I am determined to live,
Tears shall be salt water no more-
I shall pour blood in each drop that leaves my eye,
I shall muffle each sound that leaves my throat.

Gibbeted I shall remain, thereafter,
When I wake up from those day-time dreams.
Gibbeted I shall remain thereafter,
May peace be with you, for you need it more than me.

They say no hell’s fury is worse than a woman scorned-
I am however, silenced within.
Jolted, trembling in haste-filled retreat-
I escaped your claws, and now I sit here-Gibbeted now, gibbeted then.

Gibbeted voice and gibbeted strength-
Silenced now, silenced then-
Here with nothing but the butchered, murderous scream of silence.

Ears none but my own to be slaughtered,
By the gibbeted scream of silence.
Naked, stripped, violated and empty-
Voided, lewd and bare,
Here I lie, come and take some more from me-
Bathe in my crimson, blood-filled tears,
Come, gibbet me more…
Aegis me from this hateful scream of silence…
Come bare me more,
Come bare me more-
Kill me then,
Leave me not after,
Chew me away, take my soul-
Gibbet me now, gibbet me more.

"" PARADOX ""
I remember my childhood names for grasses and secret flowers. I remember where a toad may live and what time the birds awaken in the summer -- and what trees and seasons smelled like -- how people looked and walked and smelled even. The memory of odors is very rich.I have dozens of loyal fans! …they come in thirteens ;) ..

Well,It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.Books can also provoke emotions. And emotions sometimes are even more troublesome than ideas. Emotions have led people to do all sorts of things they later regret-like, oh, throwing a book at someone else.I realized how truly hard it was, really, to see someone you love change right before your eyes. Not only is it scary, it throws your balance off as well. :) ok ok ..But it was a bad dream ,Loves n hugs to my dear ones .Truth is neither ojectivity nor the balanced view; truth is a selfless subjectivity.
We live and breathe words. .... It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt--I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling with you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted--and then I realized that truly I just wanted you ---- > My soul - My thoughts  :) The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents... some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new Dark Age.
There are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one’s cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore.

My swthrt frds always told me :- Your soul knows the geography of your destiny. Your soul alone has the map of your future, therefore you can trust this indirect, oblique side of yourself. If you do, it will take you where you need to go, but more important it will teach you a kindness of rhythm in your journey..Guys 'no cmmts' love u all .

I have had playmates, I have had companions; In my days of childhood, in my joyful school days - All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. My school days were the happiest days of my life; which should give you some indication of the misery I've endured over the past seventeen  years.Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realize an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges; then suddenly the beloved has arrived, and it's noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear.The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on.I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.The Greek word for "return" is nostos. Algos means "suffering." So nostalgia is the suffering caused by an unappeased yearning to return.When people talk about the good old days, I say to people, 'It's not the days that are old, it's you that's old.In every age "the good old days" were a myth. No one ever thought they were good at the time. For every age has consisted of crises that seemed intolerable to the people who lived through them.

#
The campus, an academy of trees,
under which some hand, the wind's I guess,
had scattered the pale light
of thousands of spring beauties,
petals stained with pink veins;
secret, blooming for themselves.
We sat among them.
Your long fingers, thin body,
and long bones of improbable genius;
some scattered gene as Kafka must have had.
Your deep voice, this passing dust of miracles.
That simple that was myself, half conscious,
as though each moment was a page
where words appeared; the bent hammer of the type
struck against the moving ribbon.
The light air, the restless leaves;
the ripple of time warped by our longing.
There, as if we were painted
by some unknown impressionist.An echo of the days of pleasure,
An echo of the days drew near me,
A little of the fire of the youth of both of us,
Again I took in my hands a letter,
And I read and reread till the light was gone.
#

Nostalgic memory is a sudden encounter with the thingness of the thing that has been forgotten, not the continuous desire for possessions, whether past, present, or future. You can drag my body to school but my spirit refuses to go,wants to hanged up with my friends outside classroom .