Ink on the Paper

NOTE: This post is a result of the inexplicable and sudden occurrence of the title of the post in the writer's mind. I don't know what he was thinking about then! * EviL * Sometimes I write out of experience. Sometimes, on mere observations and knowledge. Well, today is a case of the latter... Yeah !! This is no place to confess your love for someone. NO !! After composing about half of this post, I thought of adding this one too: This is NOT a handbook to a successful love life. If you have any doubts, PLEASE READ #2 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Some things are Easier said than done. But love; Against the rule book? Well, when has it not been? * wink-wink * Barring the love of one's family, hereby, I speak of love : Call it 'love' and everybody starts jumping around like it is the 1st of January ! Call it, as per the Oxford dictionary - ...

This is a piece of fiction , nothing else.. ENJOY! In search of one Harshad Dahake, I turned once more to the right, this time to enter Saraswati Lane. " Finally !", I thought, looking at my watch again. 10:30 in the morning . "Why did you have to come today?" I demanded angrily (for at least a hundredth time) of the 'urgent' parcel, which was sitting on my lap now. That god-forsaken parcel had arrived just this morning. A call from the office had announced, for my unseeking ears to hear and my unwilling brain to accept, that I was responsible for its delivery. What I was about to witness next was something I had never seen before. Everything at Saraswati Lane was so still and lifeless , I could literally hear myself breathe. And so were the insides of 130, Saraswati Lane, II-T own (that was the address on the parcel), just like all the other houses in the neighborhood. Not that I could get in. If one happened to pass by, they would wonder if an...

“Imagine something so elegant, so beautiful and stunning that every time you are at it, you are overwhelmed no matter how many times you have felt it before. A sudden rush of blood through your brain makes you realize how good your life is.  It is so natural to you that you get lost in its aura. You forget everything else. You become one with it. Everything else is so far away. So trivial. And once you are there, you never want to come out of it. You don’t want to end it....  That, my friend, is what I call football.” -       Harshad Dahake Hello Folks!! My first real post. And what better way to begin it all with, than heaven itself. Oops, I meant FOOTBALL. How it all began : Aah, football.. My first love for sure. I still remember my first real encounter with football. It was the FIFA World Cup 2006. That tournament took me with it. From that day, till this day, there has not been a single day I haven't worshiped the game. Every d...

" Another blogger. Pooh! " " Oh! not again .." " Not interested. duh!! " Yeah, well.. you are entitled to your opinion. Seriously! Just as much as Jyotiraditya Scindia is. (29/05/13) O kay, l et us get down to the basics then. NOTE : This piece is entitled to changes as per the whereabouts of the writer. Who am I? If you are looking for things such as my name, etc, you don't need to look far. It's all here! - - > But if you are not, then this blog is where you get to know me. And I you, hopefully! What do I do? Studying @IIT_Madras. A premier technological institute of India. What do I love? Optimization. Playing football . Eating . Why am I here? I like to write, express and communicate. Another reason could be that I want to document myself. What better way than a blog, right? Makes it feel like a story. Also, if it helps someone out there reading this, that's my pleasure. My views Life is an experience I a...