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Addition

H
MAN AND MATTER
Literocat swarmed the bookshelves. It had
all the ability to cling, climb,
crawl and even hide. It often tried to move
the main shelf itself from its
way. The other shelves had all the content
for a wise reading but this one
had a spy camera.  Outsiders would come to
know about all his activities.
What were they? For an observer, he was
just a vigorous reader. But he
knew what he was digging at, mines and
mines of utility notes for his
research. It was easier to reap ideas inside
books, now-a-days. The
streets outside were so busy that we always
got confused about, what next?
This was the usual life of the young bright
thinker. Now let us not take
Cat lightly, for though this was his personal
appearance, he was strong
from inside. He was a global figure. A
luminary in camouflage, yet having
gigantic role and impact in International
affairs. His present disguise
was due to the new project he was working
on. It was a long time on going
project which involved contemporary
scientists and world economic
personalities working on an atomic energy
related project.  So the Eastern
moved unfazed and his grizly hair gazed
upon Literocat has the weirdest
thoughts out of the world track. Often
people put him aside as theirs were
better spiced ones related to daily life. Cat
used to mix up a ten years
talk into one bit of conversation. Even the
sugar in the coffee disagreed
with the flavour while trying to run
parallel to his lightning movements of
brain waves. But so was Literocat and Cat
didn’t mind the talk in the
atmosphere.
THE FALLING LEAVES OF HOPE
It was no effect of the outgoing season. Yet
the trees were losing their
leaves and their colour. Each day counted
up a thousand falls never to
bring them back again.  The next season
wouldn’t and the one after that
even.  They just disappeared. Over the
roofs, over the grills and over
every trespass able obstacle. The leaves
kept going and decreasing their
reappearance. It was undoubtedly a
natural phenomena but never heard of
before.  And along with the leaves the
common man’s hope.  The birds in the
air knew what was happening, but none
knew the causes of the incidence.
The trees looked lifeless, but only the older
people knew this. For the
younger generations, everything looked
good, yet their peers knew that in
their good times the landscape had a
greener appearance. Who would bother
to listen the voice of the nature?  The ones
who did hear, didn’t have the
ability to rectify the chain of events.
Everything in the world were
taking a faster turn in every corner of
space. The racers were in, the
thinkers were helpless.  The planet just
moved on and so also the life at
Zell & Zell Avenue. There were few eyes
which observed every minute detail
that took place. There were few even who
recorded them.  Everything was
just piling up for the future to take hold of
whatever was going to happen,
to happen. Closed doors discussions had
fewer attendees as most of them
were busy with the own personal asset
managements and disbursements. Only
hope remained. Hope with the bearings of
faith and the speed of time,
moving on as the regular planetary orbits
on their routine universal
expeditions.
LEGENDARY TALES
You couldn’t do anything in your lifetime.
So they remember you a legend
who went down without praise. How many
of the men of today’s race would
ever in their life care for such tags? A few
thousands in the entire human
population. Others up there in the
highlights are mostly successful with
cheap publicity. Nowadays you can buy
traffic.  So what, you can buy them
for a good cause. Causes themselves have
lost their ways in establishing
an identity in a fast accelarated jet pack
race we all run. Causes which
should have shown results. They collect
funds for the up lieutenant of the
poor.  Yet when we see a poor young lad,
we suggest him to work. We never
care if the other one is hungry, but we
never leave a chance to shout for
the cause of animal cruelty. Why don’t we
ever ask the animals to work for
us? Sure we should show them kindness,
but not on the cost of human
sufferings. When the rich and educated lose
their common sense to support
their unfortunate fellow being, they invite
natural calamities. Nature has
eyes to see and read our plans and lusty
cravings. Whenever we are in
sorrow we want someone to stand by us,
but when the good times come we
relish it alone.  There are two stands for a
man.  Friends of bad times and
other friends to lead them in their spending
spress. It’s like the woman
and the combine. One loves me and the
other loves the world more than me.
How far do we need to pull this along.
Thoughts just get stuck up when you
are writing on such topics. You cannot be
bold now-a-days. You have no
right to speech. Is not about all the men
and women. But the bad ones out
there are more strong to push me down.
MEASURING SCALES
Draw a line and you will find it disturbed
after a while whether by hands
or by dust, the line is not going to stay
straight.  The scales of measures
are slowly vanishing over them the
horizons. You cannot call anyone
names. You cannot treat anyone like
children, even the teens are mature
enough in their _______ ways. Friendship is
one thing, enjoyment is must,
but how do you cope up with dirt in
relationships. How do you live in an
environment that you cannot trust. And
the worst is that you cannot
express your views honestly. You don’t
have a sag in all things that don’t
directly relate to you, and if you put your
things first then you are
termed as selfish. Still life has to move on.
Just imagine, how do you
fix the price to any commodity? On the
utility or on the packing? Still
the economy believes in promoting things
through faces. You cannot be
sure, who is your God.  The boss or the one
you worship. Whom do you
devote more attention?  One who can
handle you after life or the one
handles your daily affairs? Things are set
in chaos. This explains why
even the natural elements like the sun,
moon and its effects in the seasons
have deteriorated far below than we all can
perceive. We get what we
give. How can we blame situations and
circumstances when we ourselves have
the confidence shaken within us. Still we
cannot keep away. Mix up in the
race. Either you run or you will be pushed
about till you reach the
finishing line. It does not matter what the
time you take to complete the
race. In today’s world, more important is to
get success. The time does
not matter, nor does the way. It matters
only if you realize all your
efforts in one good thing, the money. The
scales of measuring have lost
their dignity for ever.

The Gift of Nature

Wish you a flowery day.

RESOURCES The world grows on every single moment even as you are reading this article. And the global growth is an unique world record in itself. You would be wondering. I am concerned about the population, but no there are far more significant points to ponder about. It is not about the number of people we have in any particular point on earth, rather we have to be thoughtful of how many impressions that particular point gets in a day. It would seem like a website traffic exchange program discussion, but yes this is similar to that. Like they say, words are words and mere words for just anyone. But if we care so much for plants, animals and land preservation, why can’t we just go and consider the street outside our house. Streets are for walking and many like movements, but when it comes to the spots near our own darling homes, don’t we feel like being more at home. Many of us try to make our homes and surroundings look prettier and cleaner. Now let’s just repeat this, the decoration of things and place near and dear to us. They are special and we want to preserve them longer, safer and always looking beautiful. So now why we just can’t think the same for all things around us, near and far. When we start caring for things they really stand up for long, helping us in making its utilization as long as we want, till one find day, things turn into scrap. The value deteriorates, and we say it has no resale value. Here, we can just do an U turn in our thought process. Suppose someone takes a fancy for a particular thing or place or even person, another event takes place. The saved things turns out to be a priced antique thing, an esteemed statue or even an archaeological point. Hence we save things from getting extinct, or in a way, complete exhaustion of energetic impulse. Does Energy Impulse really matter? Well in a world when we can imagine about unseen insurance amounts to be a real future asset, where even the Government economies fail, we can put an effort to save Energy Impulse (EI) as an impulse that would regenerate energy, and in the process rejuvenate life in us. If we still care for golden proverbs like an apple a day, keeps the doctor away. IMPULSE ENERGY What if a patient loses interest in consuming anything, even the essential medicines. Can we save him without applying external life giving aids? Can we coax him to save himself and take inside him the cures? If we can than we could have saved millions of people who have died, committing suicide. So where does Impulse Energy come into action. The same person who would love to die, abandoning all the joy of life would stay alive if he had to meet a special kin who would be coming from a far off place. There have been innumerable coincidences of people giving up life just after seeing one loved relative. So what was it that, despite foodless days despite any aid, something kept the same individual alive till the exact moment? Yes, you are right, it is an impulse which is more superior, to any man made life giving drug. It is a strange bit of unseen nucleic force which acts in the last moments of human senses, and it is undoubtedly an awesome gift by the creator himself which acts as the last support to any instant of miraculous survival. The simple question you would put forward is, that how can this unseen ion of a particle not measurable, be preserved for future utilities. That’s even the same investigation, I had been working all these years. We can really save Impulse Energy and Energy Impulse by just converting it into exactly the opposite form right at the point where it seems to get extinct. Giving this a more formulatic appearance. Impulse Energy or IE – Energy Impulse EI or IE – EI or vice versa. You would be laughing out louder now. But, please for bear a little longer. I have some real well researched studies which will prove that we can do it. Further I will also try my best to put in facts that EI is a real measurable realistic thing which can have lot many utilities. In fact if we all work on this, EI can soon become the index tag brand for every surviving commodity we have ever seen on our dear lovely Earth. Just relax and hold on these white papers. Proof 1 Experiment THE VOLUME OF A PRINT What is the size of a point. If we take a piece of paper and mark a dot, on it. Then there appears a generally perceived point. Further in Physics we learn that when we draw a geometrical line between two points it gets connected. If it is straight and short in the connection presented we call it a straight line or just a line. We can also make a curve, a zigzag path and give extensions in many other ways we may resume. Yet the beginning remains a plain simple dot, a point. Now instead of going from there, if we start dividing or bisecting the point we can reach ______ fraction at sizes of the same. After a few steps the dot vanishes out of our site. Here the young scientist brings in the microscope ad works on positively towards the unlimited ends of sizes enlarged to magnanimol sizes for visibility and derives lots of theory. Different researchers work in different ways. A lover of mathematics Proof No.1 THE SECRET ESSENSE OF THE GOODNESS IN A1 BILLION PLUS STRONG NATION Purity has an inner value which represents itself well in acidic matter. Every nation in its own people’s eyes is the best nation and I can never even think a little bit astray or opposite. But now it is about the numbers. Like the sand on the ocean beaches. India has a unique inbuilt nucleic matter which turns every brand into Indianistic. Everyone can argue that China is a bigger population and this type of credit should first go to them. Yes, but they already have their title. We can see it in many ways like the Chinese wise which is loved the world over and the Chinese dragon related icons which is the bit stamp of every emerging young star, whether girl or boy. But the topic here is very far related to these generally representated national characteristics. This is a deep core ingrained tinch of real genetic matter which can be laboratory tested and proved. To make things more simpler to understand, let us take the example of a particular flock of sheep which is being scientifically tested for a special research. If more and more sheep tend to represent a similar characteristic, they are classified for further studies. But what would anyone derive from a huge mass of land full of differently classified living things showing different signs of reactions at different times, so much so that they can’t be properly classified, yet they hold some unidentified prophetical values, mutually beneficial to its co-breeds and even others, still the research is held in foundational curiosity levels. When you speak of raw, pictures of well designed graphic designed unbaked articles line up the observatory peripherals. Bus here it is totally different. It is closely related to Indian beliefs but not exactly spirituality in the terms of analysis. This is something, a real piece of solid static matter that has survived the laps of generations and still has the shine like the lustre of the wings of a humble household cockroach that have stood the flakes of ages.

SCARY BURDENS Zell is the hottest spot you can ever find on earth. The genes of the soil here were exploited millions of years back. Everything had the Fade Jeans look around here. Water you could find, but just for the name Suhe. A little stream broken down at places with huge brackish stones. Wait a minute, my writing is being disturbed by a fly. How little we care about this near neighbour of ours. God compasses the abandoned ones. When we humans declared them untouchables, God gave them the open soft nature to dwell in their short lives. This daring one comes close to the tip of my pen and dusts of its limbs clean. It does it job well, diligently rubbing off micro dirt particles from its tiny legs and wings. Magnify it a million times and you could see a giant crane moving building materials on the work site. Yet who cares, and so too in Zell. No one cared for the Fauna around. Life is too live and well do the humans. Sometimes I am led to believe that animals fare better than us in common sense and caring. Writing cannot be hot, unless it is news. News of killings, burning and mass destructions or most of the times, exposure of shame. When I began writing twenty years back, my hand used to be driven by limb twisting and entangling episodes that could arouse some readers. God they never came out. Today I fe3el them as if broken twigs with withering scales that have sculptured a new generation with its up heavels of sensual escapades. Zell had a different story. Hundred years back, the women came to the river to fetch water. There were howls, laughter and familiarity in the atmosphere. The children under the sun grew up to make them vanish. Now they have grown old with beards and love telling tales. Scary bits every time and everywhere. You will find in long siren vans coming on the hospital roads. They even turn up under the shadows of concrete forest towers. Utopia is unheard of. People long for safety. Zell had many characters to be jealous of. Fear was to be dealt with fear, and the people had learnt to do it with humour. Dry lives had the best opportunity to put in some fresh leaves of yumours. Daily chores had become excuses of new talk. The shops and fairs were full of them. But the fears never ended but unseen it became the integral part of the common lives. It brought in the sooth Sayers, ghost hunters ad virus killers. The leaves in the trees had turned grimy blackish brown. The fruits and flowers were untimely borne and they had to make kids yearn for them each season. Yet one thing remained the peace in the village life. And that was so, because money had entered to rule the lives of the folk. Every one was happy with their daily essentials met. Yet few had different ventures. They had drifted in the course of time to greener pastures. There was a hillock in the ear dist ace with lot many hills in its back ground, and the daily sun set in the horizon. That was the point where the dreamers had moved out. Few of them returned to take with them the other lot. Soon there was a big gap in thought processing and how, after decades there were two communities in Zell. Zell and Zell Avenue, and fear ruled the borders between the two. Time rolled on and generations changed. Dimon grew up on the streets, doing odd jobs for everyone who was ready to feed him. He had learnt to deal with the stray dogs, many of whom had become his close aids. He fed them the crumbs left over after his meals. He had a wonderful life, although in the eyes of the onlooker he was a poor chap. The early days were harder, when he knew he was hungry, and alone, but time was a good teacher, and he came out of it. Somehow he escaped the bad boys. There was an inner personality which made him different. The gangs of the street shadows kept away from him, except when they were in trouble and seeked an advice. The only foes Dimon had the rich guys who came to play in the open field nearby. He just didn’t like their proud stares. Dimon never went to school but he could read all the labels on the boards and banners. Curiosity taught him, mostly when he was hungry and roamed about the stalls. But one recent thing confused him. That was the placards on gay rights. Things were quite new for the fresher. He had a favourite haut. The well in the outskirts of Zell. Tired of the city din, he used to take off a vacation from the busy hill town towards the plain. But he kept away from the village ways. So he found the well where few folk came, a great place to rest and ready the skies. The country side had more of the birds then the city and he loved to feed them. It seems the birds were distant relatives of the street animals of the town. Wonder why they stayed away from the happening city lights and sights!

A STUDY ON THE INTERNET I believe you all love this website life like face book, twitter and surfing with Google. Everyone likes to have an online presence. To be online means an escape of the mind to another world. A world of dreams seen with open eyes. A dream which does not just vanish when we come out of our sleep. This has all the spicy material which can keep us awake and alive and make us forget the real world as long as we want and can afford. With the improvement in web techniques we have today everything overboard. Information and info Directories with real time directors and their money following in their splash pages. Pin pointed structures like bits and buttons to banners of gigantic business houses. We have streets full of casinos to huge multi moneyed gateways or Payment Gateways. Big transactions and bigger scams, sweet tidings in the mail and lot more of scams, have all become the ever welcome sights on this huge ship of an ocean. What does it take to be on line. You need to have basic things like a web site with all its accessories. The site can be yours or another mans construction site. In brief we can remember few things that we see here . 1. Website : *Online products & services. *Yourself profile & presence. *Advertisements in all kind Rollers, winker/ blinkers etc. *Payment sources & resources: Tempting getaways like betting and eager serving pay gateways . *Information of flood of it, even if you need or not. 2. Getting social and making friends : Except ours mind get blogged by the blogs, or an urgent real world appointment worries us or we have the pizza in our hearts pang, we never leave the love of being with this pal. We pay a lot with out electricity bills, telephone bills, maintenance cost and time all devoted to the friend which provides us with a platform to connect with new and old friends. 3. Getting Information : If we streamline our area of research and work, then we get to know a lot about everything. The best part being that we can convert our ideas into useful data resource. 4. Getting Entertainment : Games, Videos and tons of audio visual fonts and figures. Its like riding cool on the ocean. 5. Limited Healthy Addiction : Depending on the individual the Internet is like Coffee to the southerner or soft beverage to a western sage. You cannot get sick off it.. *The Big Question : Can you make the best of it in terms of money so that you balance both virtual and real world and lead a prestigious life? Peace about the pieces of land *We have a solution : If you consider your Virtual ID is the point of a start of mapping and acquiring a realistic online property, as long as you want it? We can give you the right step ahead in stabling your dream. Step 1 : Where the boats sway? My first experience with this eclipsical world was caring away myself behind infatuation. It is just like chasing the moon, while you still want it badly. We can help you get a right start just like your internet mail address we can provide you with the Real Space you need so that your boat gets a proper anchor. Start with just a name like The Titanic. Of course availability has to be considered. But just think, there may a million names just like yours, yet you know when you’re being called. After all a name is more than a personality tag.

CHANGE The only way left for the people of Zell & ZA. Everything people had thought would become assets lay in heaps beside the park. The park lay empty except for drowsy faces of those big business magnets, who never would have every dared to avoid the tinted glasses of their cozy cars. Even when they came out of their plush dark interiors, they remembered to put on their coloured sunglasses. But today they were in plain clothes. Everything was gone, lay valueless on the grounds. Yes every bit of this once busy city of Hoverville and the busier district of Zell Urban screamed to say the the citizens had lost the battle of races, and mad rushes. The trees and rocks were the only things, you could find in a similar to yesterday grandeur. The soil though same were smeared with human shame. No one wanted to go back to work. It was all useless. You can’t earn sacks of currencies in just one 10-12 hours job day. So it was better to rest and wait for fate to take its turn. The little children had a great time, off their schools. In a way, Hoverville was having a great holiday. Even the kitchens and food points were dusted clean of anything edible. The bad guys of the town had overnite taken to sage hood. They vowed to, never even go back to their evil ways. Nothing seemed to be in profits, and to run after just bread snatching didn’t make much sense. The great city has like an overrun windmill come down to an uncertain standstill. IT WAS EVERYWHERE The spell was hitting every place. Even Zell, the country side was not left out. The village with its usual peaceful days was now caught in a lingering fear about the future to the village was slower than the city, the crises was small here. Now one had to think about the next hour. The days were just as the same yester. People led out routines in a not much off way as the city, cooler affairs. The head man had called to a chieftain’s meet. The near next programs were postponed, but general life was just normal as everyday. Here too, the kids had a great time. Theirs was heaven. Even in the city and further here, they were delivered off their burdens. No more heavy bags to be borne, nor a scheduled pack off from homes, at least for some time, may be a reason. Team captains had hurriedly sent of messages to their next seniors to plan dens and activity. Peterson was not to be forgotten, yes, and dim on too. The sudden changes had made them friends. They met at the cliff top hall. A few more leaders were all ready present. It was time to discuss, event and future events. They all had a great job ahead, to save their city, and to save their village, yes, to save the whole district of Zell. Exciment mixed with peer advices, powered the young group of enthusiasts as they racked their brains for a great idea that would be implemented for sure. Yes, sure because the elders had failed. The old brains were tired. It was the time for the teens and the younger ones to form the Salvation Brigade. The army that could put an ultimate try to get things straight off and up to action. CAN TRUTH MAKE US CRY Alone woman sitting on the wall in the outskirts of the a band. Oned town, wailing out her heart with no one to hear. The howls of the stray animals had also decreased to a minimum negative decibel. The fluttering of the night birds like haunting, whispers, mingled with the spiny winds. The dark lines of the pitch black clouds over shadowing the vacant multi-storeyed buildings, moving slow as a fear shaded blanket. Darkness competing with black with lighter shades vanishing behind colour depths. Layers of cold air moving amidst the bricks and walls like a snake touch fright. Wails piercing figures caught in pain strong like unseen wires erupting out of strange holes. Every nook bathed in a mirky fragrance of stinking dead matter. Meshes unveiling with the miry pull of dirty shadows. The night had on a shabby look designed by a moonless sky. The moon itself was dip drowned in blood, crimson red. Every finch of colour had the lights removed out of it. It was a strange appearance with everything there except light itself. Yet things moved as it dragged on by a strange horizontal gravity. Where was it leading to? May be an end over the edge to an endless fall. May be towards the end of unmeasurable depths. Everything dragged on like the unstoppable tide of an overloaded down ward stream. The currents grew stronger with each moving span of time. Together with the wails, pierces, howls, stench, black holes and every hazy particle the atmosphere held, the world itself drifted on, like a huge layer of black glacier. It seemed to be the last ice age but nothing was chilly here. It beard on a temperature yet unimaginable and without scale. It was the epitoure of fear itself, grown to its highest gigantic limit. THE WORD INVENTED As the darkness grew, so also the spirit to fight back. Though many brave hearts had gone silent, the newer one were still there. From the motionless corners some limbs grouped in the darkness for some support. Nothing great were left to do as even their physical energies were drained out. Only way out was to try to talk, try to say something. The great atmospheric pressure didn’t allow anything to even raise the heads. Everything in the vicinity had just two kinds of inertia, to be stuck down and to be a part of the mightily dragging rea. No creature man or beast could even see its neighbour. Just the feeling of suffering and an unknown pull of a magnet. The mother cried for everyone. She was the only one left in the height and had just one lone duty. To cry out the misery of self and the surrounding enigmatic moves. She could even think, think of some way out. But the only way left after all efforts was to pray for someone to cry along with her. That was the only activity left there to do. For anyone out there in the every gathering smog, the bravest could give her company to wail more and more. Yet for hours there was not start at all. It was really a difficult circumstance in the unrecognizable land latitude. Still there was only tiny thing called hope. How ignorable and unimaginable, but a bunch of positive words could really bring a reverse action in the locality. That had to be a bunch of words. New found, common but hope initiating words. Words devoid of hurt to others, words without a tinch of jealousy. Words that really gave life and not the spirit of competitions leading to a death race. But in this art sea of labour infested, sombre money lusting sleeves of human folds, hope was just going to die its death. WERE THEY BIRDS OF PREY? The walled city, draped in the years with hyper wealthy scholars which never anticipated deterioration lay in shambles in the present. All the stories of the glorious past could not save its desperate face. The wings cut the wind when they soar down from the peaks. Fame in its fall may be bad for most but for those shadows looming high and hovering low nothing mattered. It was as it they were fashioned up the selfsame way for consuming deed matter. Matter which had lost its originality. Things which mattered most was exactly, not an element of slightest consideration. But commodities which did had an inner value were long back left off by the masses. Even the bread and butter bore the signs of vain representations. Education had tried its best to discipline but the greed of man made him to deviate from real value and culture. Long back they lost the basic asset of time. No one still had the faintest reminisense of how man, became a less lubricated bearing of the bigger machinery called work. Work had become more important than the utility and output. Efforts were accelerated in a ratio where more was the doing and less the receiving. Yet in the lay_____ lingua, the one only excuse presented was achievement o perfection. Perfection in every aspect, whether you had to lose energy and time. The perfect people had just somehow forgotten that, physics drew up a simple equation, that all the energy lost is again gained in another appearance and a very similar opposite reaction to it. So the time rolled and the people too, till it was a win win situation f9or time itself. It would not be wrong that time was proving itself the most valuable currency of the times. There were lots of contemporary values and assets, yet the best and highest was determined by this ultimate factor. And after the transformation of energies into something unalterable and the factor itself proves up unaffordable, fluctuation of all economic boundary lines across the nation was just the right inevitable issue.

LABOUR LOST THE LUSTRE “Can anyone be better than me?” In a open of 60-80 years, everyone repeats there lines a million times. People see others falling and rising just because of a little “ego”. Yet now wants to rectify the self. Before blaming anyone else I would gladly take the blame on me. I never leave an opportunity to take the credits of anything that happens to get great. Pig the dust deeper, you never arrive without dirt. May be we would hit some mine of gold or a crest of precious gems, still we have to wade through the dry mine. Digging is the easiest available resource for getting new resources. We know it as good as the cats and dogs know it, to hide their filth. Sometimes digging develops a dizziness, still we cannot leave it, easily. It is an easy way of wealth regeneration. “Dust art thou and unto dust will thou return”. We do it many times yet while we are living. Digging out lies and the lies to undermine my brother. Cities are very good for talent development, but if everything is criticized about, then there remains no story even. It gets as shabby as this article, which started with a story and now finds the words to exagerate the episode like a long boring film. Still I have a proof. Today every machine has threads and we cannot live without the machines. Even the logos, designs and fonts as the twisted threads to get them a more modern looks. The big machines had arrived in Zell. Towering drills, land movers, crushers and cranes and every big dasher you would find in a development site. Dimon recognized a few of there as he had seen them back in the city. “But what were they doing here in the country side?” he wondered. Soon he came to know they had come for land reclamation. There was also an added tag that this work had some connection related to archeology. Strange term, but he understood one thing out of it. The river bed would be dug up, a lot of scientific experiments would be carried on and finally there would be new shiny infrastructure on this arid forgotten piece of land. His well was going to be utilised as the water was good. So he would not be without work. Dimon was no a full matured man, but he had lot of strength that made the girls stare at his physique. And he had the brains too. The engineers at the site loved his nature and often tipped him with advices. Just yesterday Mr. Chatosh had gifted him a new pair of jeans and ties. Dimon was excited, but he was curious about the venture. One thing started worrying him. Would this camp do anything against the villagers. Well after all he had to engage in something to carry on life. How could he think against the very people who have paved a way for his source of income. The money pulls them all, the good & bad, high & low, rich & poor, the clever & the simple, everyone was roped up in this powerful chain. Fair pay is gone out of fashion. Today it is a different game. A game played by cunning minds. The simple and the upright go straight to fall for it. It doesn’t matter have educated you are. If you need the moolah, you are in for the trap. Every thing seems to be interlinked. You get careful when it is about gathering. But who cares about the hopeless? Who will distribute? No one, for there’s the belief that we are spoiling them by giving. So it comes that some takes even from us. A few more powerful than us. Our losses who seem to be real merciless. Yet why will they give us liberally, when we don’t have for others. We can argue about the work we do for them and the profit that we earn for them. Still is there a change in the economy. Do we ever have the time to think wisely. So no one thought about Zell when it began the idea of a new science centre in the river base. Everyone felt the villagers could get work and the compensation who be more than appropriate. May be they were right. The villagers also had the same views. They were attracted more by the benefits of cash rather by the agricultural labour. No one ever thought how the earlier generations who had left their farms for city expansion & development were now in great discomfort. The city Zell Avenue situated on the top of the plateau had a strange but true story. But that was decades back. Today its citizens were happy with what they were. They just wanted to be happy. The man machine system rolled with more luscious lubricants delivered from the sweat and blood of the dreams.

Story of Creation

         The dawn is upon us. The light shinning alongwith. The light of The Truth. And the Truth sets us free. Now the Truth says that God is Love.
        Love speaks, it expresses itself, and Love is in the air. Movement, Voice and Expression are three Omnipresent features of Love. Yet let's not be confused that this Love is the love manifested in the World. Love that is God is Pure.

Mirror in my Mind

What I think is what I see.

There is power in Pure Love, yet it never destroys but simply creates. Now the question is, can Love create anything? Matter can be seen but Love cannot be seen. How can then a thing unseen create Matter which we percieve to exist in real world. But like Love has power it can even create. Only if it created could we exist, for we find Love inside us. And now we do exist proving that the unseen can create that which is seen.

TITLE - JOURNEY TO THE BEGINING OF THE EARTH Peterson loved to hear stories. His favourites were those which involved terrains, valleys and tall steep mountains. He loved the scenes of pictures coming to life, sometimes full of scary beasts and birds and sometimes pretty smiling fairies. He waited the whole day, finishing off his chores in ad hurry, his excitement building up as the night approached. Uncle Sam was in the middle of the street trying to catch up a running bus, which would drop him at his office. He loved his daily office work. Through sometimes it bored him with the routine checks. He had a window side table in his cabin. At Hover vile, ZA. The 10th floor where his firm had a rented occupation was one of the many hundreds of small concerns in the same block. He pressed down the creases of his trousers as he found a seat in the moving bus. Today it was moving slower than the other days. There was more traffic on the roads of his home town, Germania. Even though the sweat troubled him, he was happy; window sides always had their impact on his swoopy mind It was another hectic day for shovely. She brisked on holdng up bits of jobs, trying to finish up each one as the clock ticked on. “How fast the day moved once it was up till noon” whispered shovel as the broom nodded in agreement to hert views. The nickelheads were the soberest family in the cluster of farm houses ingraine to the Zermanian countryside. It was a mixed county with farms of every kind and creep, most of them even having self processing units. Theirs were a smaller one, and so Sam had to do an extra job to make ends meet. Sam had carried his breakfast to office to save time. As the bus timings made him hurry. Well he would be coming back for a much awaited wholesome supper. Shovely smiled wide as she remembered Sam’s Antic’s at the super table. He still had the childish pranks often making her wonder If Sam was younger than Peterson. “Now where was Peterson? Should be off fishing with his friends at the distant lake. Good that she reminded him to pack his snack box as well”. The Den had a different look as Peterson put the finishing touches to the walls. He really looked a professional in his paint stained black sports jacket. “Aunt should not be knowing about this hideout”. Uncle Sam and he had discovered this place in the cleavage of three old banyan trees. Now they had built a small shed at a little height from the ground. The family spent the weekend here, but the shed would be a shocking surprise for Aunt Shovely

SCARY BURDENS Zell is the hottest spot you can ever find on earth. The genes of the soil here were exploited millions of years back. Everything had the Fade Jeans look around here. Water you could find, but just for the name Suhe. A little stream broken down at places with huge brackish stones. Wait a minute, my writing is being disturbed by a fly. How little we care about this near neighbour of ours. God compasses the abandoned ones. When we humans declared them untouchables, God gave them the open soft nature to dwell in their short lives. This daring one comes close to the tip of my pen and dusts of its limbs clean. It does it job well, diligently rubbing off micro dirt particles from its tiny legs and wings. Magnify it a million times and you could see a giant crane moving building materials on the work site. Yet who cares, and so too in Zell. No one cared for the Fauna around. Life is too live and well do the humans. Sometimes I am led to believe that animals fare better than us in common sense and caring. Writing cannot be hot, unless it is news. News of killings, burning and mass destructions or most of the times, exposure of shame. When I began writing twenty years back, my hand used to be driven by limb twisting and entangling episodes that could arouse some readers. God they never came out. Today I fe3el them as if broken twigs with withering scales that have sculptured a new generation with its up heavels of sensual escapades. Zell had a different story. Hundred years back, the women came to the river to fetch water. There were howls, laughter and familiarity in the atmosphere. The children under the sun grew up to make them vanish. Now they have grown old with beards and love telling tales. Scary bits every time and everywhere. You will find in long siren vans coming on the hospital roads. They even turn up under the shadows of concrete forest towers. Utopia is unheard of. People long for safety. Zell had many characters to be jealous of. Fear was to be dealt with fear, and the people had learnt to do it with humour. Dry lives had the best opportunity to put in some fresh leaves of yumours. Daily chores had become excuses of new talk. The shops and fairs were full of them. But the fears never ended but unseen it became the integral part of the common lives. It brought in the sooth Sayers, ghost hunters ad virus killers. The leaves in the trees had turned grimy blackish brown. The fruits and flowers were untimely borne and they had to make kids yearn for them each season. Yet one thing remained the peace in the village life. And that was so, because money had entered to rule the lives of the folk. Every one was happy with their daily essentials met. Yet few had different ventures. They had drifted in the course of time to greener pastures. There was a hillock in the ear dist ace with lot many hills in its back ground, and the daily sun set in the horizon. That was the point where the dreamers had moved out. Few of them returned to take with them the other lot. Soon there was a big gap in thought processing and how, after decades there were two communities in Zell. Zell and Zell Avenue, and fear ruled the borders between the two. Time rolled on and generations changed. Dimon grew up on the streets, doing odd jobs for everyone who was ready to feed him. He had learnt to deal with the stray dogs, many of whom had become his close aids. He fed them the crumbs left over after his meals. He had a wonderful life, although in the eyes of the onlooker he was a poor chap. The early days were harder, when he knew he was hungry, and alone, but time was a good teacher, and he came out of it. Somehow he escaped the bad boys. There was an inner personality which made him different. The gangs of the street shadows kept away from him, except when they were in trouble and seeked an advice. The only foes Dimon had the rich guys who came to play in the open field nearby. He just didn’t like their proud stares. Dimon never went to school but he could read all the labels on the boards and banners. Curiosity taught him, mostly when he was hungry and roamed about the stalls. But one recent thing confused him. That was the placards on gay rights. Things were quite new for the fresher. He had a favourite haut. The well in the outskirts of Zell. Tired of the city din, he used to take off a vacation from the busy hill town towards the plain. But he kept away from the village ways. So he found the well where few folk came, a great place to rest and ready the skies. The country side had more of the birds then the city and he loved to feed them. It seems the birds were distant relatives of the street animals of the town. Wonder why they stayed away from the happening city lights and sights!

DIP Water; water everywhere not a drop to drink. Man cannot drink saline water, but the ocean holds a lot of mysteries. Mysteries of untold riches and of men _____ by it. Long forgotten tales and story tellers more in numbers. The east and the west knows about the water lying south and north. The land reveals and the waters hide and hence the perception of deep waters. No one knows but we feel water is like a mirror, reflecting the stars in the sky, sensing encoded signals up the clouds and by. When does the story of a drop of water build up? In the chemical universe, water has a totally different appearance. There is nothing wrong when we assume water as H2O for the formula is perfectly right. But is it two inflammable gases which constitute this cool liquid or is there something else to it. When the sun evaporates a drop of water, does it have to delve into its molecular nature? It is for us, humans, who have to search for atoms of water to give it a size, shape or alter it. Yet till date we have not been able to make even a single glass of water which would quench someone’s thirst. Water in the real sense has to give life. Life to the thirsting soul and life that can reproduce fullness and satisfaction. A major part of the Earth’s water body is salty. Salty water cannot be drunk, but the salt is it can have many uses. The uses of salt are yet to be disarmed as more and more research is being carried out. What could be the relation between salt, water and sand? Are they three things coming out of the same rock? In the views of any research student, this may be totally unconceivable. Yet if we do a little bit of human experience reviews, we may arrive at a conclusion that they are from a single source. After all our earth has been classified to be a planet from a bang. The earliest forms have been traced to the forms as that of gaseous matter which cooled down the ages. Cooling in this way had to produce 90% plus liquid matter and only a little portion of solid and gas form. Gas can be presumed to tilt forms now and then. But from all these vast complicacies one thing was required the most. Pure filtered edible water having the powers even to cool the tired eyes. TWO TYPES OF CREATIONS Does the universe have two types of creations? One which is already found as fully formed and just continuing a line of similarities. Another which are hidden in the many floppy layers of different atmospheric elements. Very recently we had the recycling of a virus which comes to life often 30,000 years of frozen dormancy. Good it was just a ting harmless virus. Scientists even hold on the belief that the hearing up of atmospheric levels may trigger back many such forms, back to life. Just after the first light showers of rain in the monsoons, we come to see little creatures back in life, crawling the dust. Many of them don’t live much time, some just disappear but the main topic to consider is, are they just coming out of the soil or do they form themselves in the instant. We can even say they were hiding in hibernation under the event of earth, but there is another serious point of thinking that if they could survive underneath our feet, why would they just die out in the open. We also have a common belief which comes alive often times that. Aliens are a reality. Now leaving the aliens alone to do their little bit of research around us, we have to find out how these little living creatur4es come to appear and disappear all of a sudden. Is there a dual system of life in our planet? And if it is, then can it be useful for our future study of the mysteries of life. We know that unlike humans and animals, plants need Carbon Dioxide to make their food. And the cycle of breaking up of synthesis and metabolic processes we gain in the purification of air and mineral sources. Yet the cycling of tiny organises touch can be studied, cannot be certainly reached till the roots. Even they help a lot in fertilization process, but to decipher, their roots and moult mechanics when they don’t even exist is very much off the track. Still we can arrive at certain conclusions from all these observations that will help us to restructure life sciences.

ENDING THE STORY Like it would never end, the essence of everything that occurred in the story of Zell was a representation of the entire human race. In the gap of many generations, our blood has never changed. It’s the same as it was thousand of years before. Zell has an unending story. It would be similar to stories written prior to mine, yet there are many bends in the lane which would seem totally off stage and out of track. Yet that is where the story is different. Like a conscious child growing up, it falls and rises, breaks and races, tills and straightens and repeat every little activity in a quest way. Peterson did reach the end of his story. For that he had to take a tour of the beginning of the world. His den was revealed to many, but they kept revisiting it, because every time there was a new surprise. Uncle Sam got his corner of his like, but that’s another big tale, and the tale grew as did his dreams. Shortly made up a new avatar and everyone liked it because he was going to achieve more heights with that get up. The strangest part of this episode is the mixture of a tinch of eastern spice with the short entry of Mr. Singh’s family. But it was a strange but true twist that took place in this special piece of earth. The village of Zell had few other families including the headman who was different. They had emerged from their own dwellings of a dream to represent themselves. In fact this story had characters who lived in different, for off lands but in their dreams had come to this land and then they become an internal part of it. The eagle soared high with some of its mates while the rest covered the pinnacles. There were lanes even in the open skies and followed the brooks in the valleys. And as they followed, they took a crooked form like the fossil imprints of our ancient ancestors. Thoughts inclined to motion and motion further developed instruments. Yet unlike the rest of the world the special characters formed here, helped positively in the formation of the most peculiar tailings of a trail. DOES DIMON GET LEFT OUT? No, never, he has the best piece of the cake. He grows up with tales on his wing. The finest creature you can call. He was there together with the homo-sapiens as well as with the feline and the fauna and he also has a love tale behind him. But the best of his works include making a bridge between the circumstances prevailing in the two lands. Though it was not, for Dimon, life in Zell Avenue and the village Zell were two different respective. One decode up from the head to the toes but with arrogant features, the other ignorable yet catchy in its humble yet effective life styles. He saw in person, two things forming at the same time. When the tragic event struck the area, he was all there to witness and to address many urgent issues. Dimon rose from the dust, lived among the thorny thickets of life, yet delivered a fascinating and dramatic piece of act, whenever time required. By the time the story came to the climax, time itself stood strong and besides Dimon, so that only he had something real to do and say. When the times were good for others, Dimon might have blanked out in the night sky with hunger, yet when the citizens needed him, he was always there. The end did not have to come as this has been kept for the future. But in all cascading tenses, Dimon lead and the heroes of the country and the countryside followed. There were shields and swords of all sizes and sharpness, yet the blood never asked for it. For love was in the blood of the people. Love earned with the yearnings the heart of even the hardest of foes for which time rewarded the region a realm of calm in the end. It was a brisk night of wailing walls but the pillars of faith and unity won the war to receive a great morning of deliverance. A RECYCLING TALE So you see the wheels turning. Moving in every direction and as the wheels move you find the machines are lifted up. The instruments here are not static. Even the thing particles of dust move about. The bigger blots of moisture evaporates and rotates the water cycle. What you can see is the dust, even that is moved to a new place by steps of feet. The grains that’s bigger is also taken up. The kids playing around won’t leave the stones untouched. The bigger rocks resist for a while but can’t do it for the newer constructions in every lane. There is unseen value for ignorable hands full of earth. The plants, trees and grass are vied upon by passers by seeking for an excuse to utility. Every bit of resource is useful, and if not, then termed as scrap for recycling. “Dust thou art, and thou shall return to dust only”. Dust that can be easily driven about in every direction. So we see the life of the living, in a small spin of a wheel. So is the cycle that teaches us all these in its own fancy way. Making man move till the last rim is rusted and the spokes lost its joints. Yet all these were things secondary to Mr. Singh, for he for knew every thing. In a way he talked to his cycle every day about this and lot move. Nothing could stop him from taking out his well. Nothing could stop him from taking out his well lubricated bicycle. Off to the market, away to the riverside, well by the children’s park, swift on an errand, swaying, swinging, playing and enjoying every movement they made. Heroes on the silver screen come and varnish after a while. But Singh had the alibi___to be always present. He was the hero, he was as he wanted. Down the lane, up the mounds the hero moved on. The more he saw, the more he kept and shared with his companion. And what do you think his companion did? Spin it in the wheels. Just as the wool spinning charkha made more balls of wool the pretty simple bicycle spinned new and newer tales. Who cared about any reads? It’s a mind which speaks and speaks then off in the air. The breezes round the bushes catch it and turn it up and away. The tales dash around the poles and pillars and grow up all the way. For this is life and never quite, it will just be on the way.

A STUDY ON THE INTERNET I believe you all love this website life like face book, twitter and surfing with Google. Everyone likes to have an online presence. To be online means an escape of the mind to another world. A world of dreams seen with open eyes. A dream which does not just vanish when we come out of our sleep. This has all the spicy material which can keep us awake and alive and make us forget the real world as long as we want and can afford. With the improvement in web techniques we have today everything overboard. Information and info Directories with real time directors and their money following in their splash pages. Pin pointed structures like bits and buttons to banners of gigantic business houses. We have streets full of casinos to huge multi moneyed gateways or Payment Gateways. Big transactions and bigger scams, sweet tidings in the mail and lot more of scams, have all become the ever welcome sights on this huge ship of an ocean. What does it take to be on line. You need to have basic things like a web site with all its accessories. The site can be yours or another mans construction site. In brief we can remember few things that we see here . 1. Website : *Online products & services. *Yourself profile & presence. *Advertisements in all kind Rollers, winker/ blinkers etc. *Payment sources & resources: Tempting getaways like betting and eager serving pay gateways . *Information of flood of it, even if you need or not. 2. Getting social and making friends : Except ours mind get blogged by the blogs, or an urgent real world appointment worries us or we have the pizza in our hearts pang, we never leave the love of being with this pal. We pay a lot with out electricity bills, telephone bills, maintenance cost and time all devoted to the friend which provides us with a platform to connect with new and old friends. 3. Getting Information : If we streamline our area of research and work, then we get to know a lot about everything. The best part being that we can convert our ideas into useful data resource. 4. Getting Entertainment : Games, Videos and tons of audio visual fonts and figures. Its like riding cool on the ocean. 5. Limited Healthy Addiction : Depending on the individual the Internet is like Coffee to the southerner or soft beverage to a western sage. You cannot get sick off it.. *The Big Question : Can you make the best of it in terms of money so that you balance both virtual and real world and lead a prestigious life? Peace about the pieces of land *We have a solution : If you consider your Virtual ID is the point of a start of mapping and acquiring a realistic online property, as long as you want it? We can give you the right step ahead in stabling your dream. Step 1 : Where the boats sway? My first experience with this eclipsical world was caring away myself behind infatuation. It is just like chasing the moon, while you still want it badly. We can help you get a right start just like your internet mail address we can provide you with the Real Space you need so that your boat gets a proper anchor. Start with just a name like The Titanic. Of course availability has to be considered. But just think, there may a million names just like yours, yet you know when you’re being called. After all a name is more than a personality tag.