Sunday, September 1, 2013

These days are uneventful but I seem to have no time
Where are those days full of inspiration? 

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Transcendental Art ..

Examine the contents of this audio-visual - the background, the artistes, the outcome, the effect 

Friday, May 17, 2013

Monday, April 22, 2013

Sunset of Age

forever searchingFor landscapes sereneAmidst the sunset of ageWith joyous masquerade.......... the summers died

Tuesday, March 12, 2013


Have you wondered, as you age, that you have been wandering through beliefs, ideas and ideologies ? Is it a linear progress or does it all come around? Just remembered this Shakespearean monologue -

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. 
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."