tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44957163086190413542011-07-08T04:37:00.413+05:30Haloxyluxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948061480868340454noreply@blogger.comBlogger61100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4495716308619041354.post-7390370749232416342010-08-07T02:04:00.026+05:302010-08-14T15:16:18.438+05:30

I was walking around the woods one evening seeking solace from the reality for a moment. The clouds around mighty snow peaks looked bright while sun shone in dim flares. I saw someone sitting on a rock at the shore of river. The rock was covered with small yellow flowers. She appeared like a butterfly hovering over those flowers. She seemed calm; patient. Like she was contemplating the flowing

Haloxyluxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948061480868340454noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4495716308619041354.post-11963380956172252562009-01-21T00:59:00.005+05:302009-01-21T01:23:53.086+05:30

Previous Post - The New Delhi Chronicle December 26, 2008 The journey from New Delhi to Manali was absolute torture. First because of that movie, Maan Gaye Mughal-e-Azam, which was complete rip off of To Be or Not To Be (produced and acted by Mel Brooks). The original was certainly hilarious. I wanted to ask bus incharge to stop the movie but other people seemed to be enjoying it. So I acted

Haloxyluxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948061480868340454noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4495716308619041354.post-61152995183719572342009-01-17T14:59:00.011+05:302009-01-21T01:26:10.872+05:30

Previous Post - Manali, Dalhousie, Mussoorie... goodness... then I woke up December 25, 2008 I wished last night if I could telepathically hack people's mind. Some people start blurting out and would not stop at all as if their life would be evitable without talking. Such was the character we met in our train compartment. He was Police Station Incharge somewhere I don't remember. He said he was

Haloxyluxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948061480868340454noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4495716308619041354.post-26334011170133246372009-01-13T13:03:00.025+05:302009-01-14T23:13:20.550+05:30

January 13, 2009 It is fog - not scary one because I can see bulbs illuminating the street – that hindered the train to reach Bhopal station, which is already one hour late. It is cold night indeed but it can not give chills to the spines - well at least to my spine – at 14°C. The train finally comes to halt and time seems to hold on. There is no movement at all on either side of rails; just

Haloxyluxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948061480868340454noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4495716308619041354.post-42903482645501813702007-12-13T23:18:00.002+05:302009-01-14T13:19:02.388+05:30

My father would have uncovered me to winter chill, hadn't I opened my eyes at 7AM. Cruel world, or should I say cruel students, want me to churn my brain to productivity as their presumption states if they can wake up at 5AM, anybody can. But I am not ANYBODY. Am I? Though I have to surrender my sleep to earn bread & butter, and cake & chocolates of course :D. So reluctantly I tuned my bike to

Haloxyluxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948061480868340454noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4495716308619041354.post-43362543138007592702007-12-10T14:06:00.001+05:302009-01-14T13:17:37.291+05:30

Strange... but Good Morning. The sky is still dark blue, the birds are yet in nest, and even dogs find their premier abode warm enough to keep them from chasing bikes. And there must be a reasonable reason I am awake at this time of morning, er, or night. Who would want to start writing anything at 6AM of winter morning when even sun would shy to rise? But my uncle, mother's brother-in-law,

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