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Through inexplicable architecture and irrefutable history, lies a place of might and power........ which remains ignored!

                                   As always, it's a book that compels me to write and dissect, perhaps the literature buff and the rational nerd are best applied when fueled simultaneously. The fallen apple and the heliocentricity that were praised in school did not in fact elaborate on a shloka that spoke of gravitational force and Navagrahas. For the grandiose Roman democracy that was highlighted, no one spoke of the burgeoning civilizations of Hindustan. Not much anyway.       Why were the pyramids a source of wonder when the unrusted Iron pillar continued to stand tall? Why were Da Vinci and Michelangelo exalted for their art when the temples of Belur and Halebidu had more intricacy and delight? The crusades were religious conflicts of men yet pushed with the backdrop of more spiritual pursuits, but did you see the battles that my Narayana raised to rid the world of evil?  ...
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The shrouded sweet pea.

                               A marshmallow scent of a comforting hug. A scattered soul with a need to lash out.          An empath that radiated jollity across the landscape.  An angry mourner for the loss of innocence, trust, and loyalty.                                                        The one who felt everything and then nothing.                   Far away and in the ancient, a creeper-twined and sunlight-warmed home where the gothic turrets peaked through and the bailey rang with sounds of militant valour, a king reigned wise and fair. His wealth, he noted, as a pallid son from the Queen, a sweetpea daughter of his beloved, and a halcyon kingdom.         T...
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Hope springs eternal, faith keeps you going.

I was asked by an Italian colleague how as a researcher, I could believe in an abstract God. Was asked to prove the need for such religious customs, especially with the lustre of greed that surrounded it. The answers I had then, were not of any extensive mythological or scriptural evidence, but simply of the fact that it gave me comfort to believe, to converse, to lament, to crib and entrust, in a power vastly beyond my feeble understanding. My God, my confidante, an eternal unseen presence throughout my existence gave me the will to keep one foot after another. My allegiance lies firmly with the flautist. His stories are the stuff of fantasy, adoration, morals and life teachings, I could not put across or justify with my words. So much grandeur yet a simpleton, a champion of the people and yet a youngling to his mother,the Paramatma who helped win one of the greatest wars on human vices without raising nary a weapon. Another source of devotion comes forth from a saint, whose life was ...
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In a world of Spittleworth, be a Dovetail

When you put yourself strictly away from screen and enjoy more of what you have always  cherished,  you discover a joy like no other.  It is binging but of a different kind,  the kind that makes your heart tingle and soar.  The curiosity that enriches and feeds the soul of a child tucked away in the face of a more pragmatic and learning to adult grown up.  Being a Potter head it is a lifetime branding,  much like that dark  mark....  chuckles.. But this fraternity, very much like Lily Potter's love, lies unseen and is shared via exchanging wand profiles from Wizarding world website or remembering that Filch is really misunderstood but annoying or that Prisoner of Askaban is quite likely a favourite for a large majority.  Getting nerdy over Potter is as luxurious as a swim in clear waters of Positano.  It's invigorating to reminisce of the sea as you sliced through it and just so thinking about how Norberta might be now.  Coming...
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