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In First Person

Monday, July 27, 2015. Last time I was leaving, we couldn't hug. He was asleep in the ICU. With half of his colon and a third of his bladder ripped off from his insides. I had left him a letter. Saying that he was brave and I was proud of him. This time we hug and cry. I'm leaving again. I'm not sure when I will see him again. Maybe a year, or two, or three. But times are better now. Though, that's when I feel it: the feeling of being in the middle of an endless, free fall. Saturday, May 02, 2015. And th...

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In First Person | rairadiations.blogspot.com Reviews
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Monday, July 27, 2015. Last time I was leaving, we couldn't hug. He was asleep in the ICU. With half of his colon and a third of his bladder ripped off from his insides. I had left him a letter. Saying that he was brave and I was proud of him. This time we hug and cry. I'm leaving again. I'm not sure when I will see him again. Maybe a year, or two, or three. But times are better now. Though, that's when I feel it: the feeling of being in the middle of an endless, free fall. Saturday, May 02, 2015. And th...
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In First Person | rairadiations.blogspot.com Reviews

https://rairadiations.blogspot.com

Monday, July 27, 2015. Last time I was leaving, we couldn't hug. He was asleep in the ICU. With half of his colon and a third of his bladder ripped off from his insides. I had left him a letter. Saying that he was brave and I was proud of him. This time we hug and cry. I'm leaving again. I'm not sure when I will see him again. Maybe a year, or two, or three. But times are better now. Though, that's when I feel it: the feeling of being in the middle of an endless, free fall. Saturday, May 02, 2015. And th...

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1

In First Person: July 2014

http://www.rairadiations.blogspot.com/2014_07_01_archive.html

Tuesday, July 29, 2014. Haven't had an escapade in ages. Symptom of getting old. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Havent had an escapade in ages. Symptom of gettin. Calcutta, West Bengal, India. A random, incoherent, coincidental, ludricous cocktail of nucleotides, proteins and thoughts. View my complete profile.

2

In First Person: July 2015

http://www.rairadiations.blogspot.com/2015_07_01_archive.html

Monday, July 27, 2015. Last time I was leaving, we couldn't hug. He was asleep in the ICU. With half of his colon and a third of his bladder ripped off from his insides. I had left him a letter. Saying that he was brave and I was proud of him. This time we hug and cry. I'm leaving again. I'm not sure when I will see him again. Maybe a year, or two, or three. But times are better now. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Last time I was leaving, we couldnt hug. He was a. Calcutta, West Bengal, India.

3

In First Person

http://www.rairadiations.blogspot.com/2015/07/last-time-i-was-leaving-we-couldnt-hug.html

Monday, July 27, 2015. Last time I was leaving, we couldn't hug. He was asleep in the ICU. With half of his colon and a third of his bladder ripped off from his insides. I had left him a letter. Saying that he was brave and I was proud of him. This time we hug and cry. I'm leaving again. I'm not sure when I will see him again. Maybe a year, or two, or three. But times are better now. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Last time I was leaving, we couldnt hug. He was a. Calcutta, West Bengal, India.

4

In First Person: May 2015

http://www.rairadiations.blogspot.com/2015_05_01_archive.html

Saturday, May 02, 2015. He is named Ostrich. When he is not sick. When he is sick, he is Guacamole. He calls me Vanilla Bean. When he is particularly full of mush, I am 'Sweet' Vanilla Bean. Our stuffed animals have strong personalities - Piggy and Fox, and Fuzz. Piggy is an American rock-star (so Piggy thinks) with a long fan-following of hot women. Fox is German, and quiet. Fuzz is currently writing a romantic novel. We are five-year-olds as far as mental age is concerned. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).

5

In First Person: February 2014

http://www.rairadiations.blogspot.com/2014_02_01_archive.html

Thursday, February 27, 2014. Words have left me I think. Long, long ago, quietly, secretly, slowly,. Leaving word shaped holes in my vocabulary. I only have silences in my blood now,. And some empty aches inside my throat. And you know poetry. Silences in blood and empty. Needs words, thoughts, passion,. Music, patience, blood, sweat, love. And, of course, every time,. A little bit of the soul. Little black curly haired kid. How crazy are you? Look, I worry about you. Long after it left your tender lips?

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Dare to know the Truth: August 2014

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2014_08_01_archive.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Sunday, August 17, 2014. When the pain is old and the pen rusty…. The skies overcast…and a rhythmic rain…. I look for my forgotten friend…. In the attics of time. I look for that feeling…. But, the pen is rusty and the scar hidden. And, the relentless call of life…. I search and not find….

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Dare to know the Truth: February 2012

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2012_02_01_archive.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Friday, February 17, 2012. The winter crept up stealthily behind…. Like an old friend…. And, embraced my weary soul. Embalming my wounds in its chilly blanket. I have wondered about this winter…. In my waking dreams. I have wrestled with shadows. Wondering about my being…. Torn apart with questions.

directionlesswords.blogspot.com directionlesswords.blogspot.com

Dare to know the Truth: August 2012

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2012_08_01_archive.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Monday, August 20, 2012. Of Rains and Afternoons. The naughty rain…. And, lazy afternoon silently watch…. As, you breathe gently on my neck…. And, we ride on dawn’s chariot…. While, the world stops around us…. And, we move as one. As, waves of emotions wash over us. And, rain falls…. Abhishek....

directionlesswords.blogspot.com directionlesswords.blogspot.com

Dare to know the Truth: September 2011

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2011_09_01_archive.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Monday, September 26, 2011. I watch the sea of life…. Break on the shores of eternity. And, I watch the endless parade…. Of lives without meaning. And, I cry…. Waiting, for the tears to be heard. While, I search for words. In the sunshine-less streets of the world. Somewhere, there is a saga.

directionlesswords.blogspot.com directionlesswords.blogspot.com

Dare to know the Truth: August 2011

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2011_08_01_archive.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Thursday, August 4, 2011. She stands bereft of social trappings…. Beyond pretensions…and forced smiles…. She stands numb…. In the end, it counts to nothing…. A whole lot of mistakes and a few lies. Forgotten wildflowers…and, left behind ties. All, she has is life…. Taking her in….

directionlesswords.blogspot.com directionlesswords.blogspot.com

Dare to know the Truth: Shadows and Memories

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2014/08/shadows-and-memories.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Sunday, August 17, 2014. When the pain is old and the pen rusty…. The skies overcast…and a rhythmic rain…. I look for my forgotten friend…. In the attics of time. I look for that feeling…. But, the pen is rusty and the scar hidden. And, the relentless call of life…. I search and not find….

directionlesswords.blogspot.com directionlesswords.blogspot.com

Dare to know the Truth: December 2012

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2012_12_01_archive.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Monday, December 24, 2012. For Nirbhaya and Those Who Languish in Darkness. Her cries were drowned in laughter…. Her pain was buried in lust…. As, animals tore her apart. We have been silent…. We will always be…scared…hiding…. And, she will continue to be brutalized. As, we watch. As, it rains.

directionlesswords.blogspot.com directionlesswords.blogspot.com

Dare to know the Truth: Insanity and Us

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2013/07/insanity-and-us.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Tuesday, July 16, 2013. The clouds roll in…. Steady…Calm…Dark…. And, we burn. Like the world around us…. Bringing insanity to the fore…. Indulging in the dance of madness…. As, we embrace…. The mad rush…in the flow of life…. We seek each other…. To create…to think…to say…. And, we scream. Ishita&#...

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Dare to know the Truth: The Dreamer and his Memories

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-dreamer-and-his-memories.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Sunday, June 2, 2013. The Dreamer and his Memories. You came from the shadows…. You dreamed…you spoke…. And, showed us pictures…that seeped deep within. You refused the road oft taken. Fought, bloody wars…. And, then danced in the rapture of creation…. Because, only you could. I am an average guy ...

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Dare to know the Truth: For Nirbhaya & Those Who Languish in Darkness

http://directionlesswords.blogspot.com/2012/12/for-nirbhaya-those-who-languish-in.html

Dare to know the Truth. This blog is my reading of life, as I see it. You may call it poetry or streams of my consciousness but all you will get here is the purest part of a helpless dreamer who still believes. Monday, December 24, 2012. For Nirbhaya and Those Who Languish in Darkness. Her cries were drowned in laughter…. Her pain was buried in lust…. As, animals tore her apart. We have been silent…. We will always be…scared…hiding…. And, she will continue to be brutalized. As, we watch. For Nirbhaya and...

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In First Person

Monday, July 27, 2015. Last time I was leaving, we couldn't hug. He was asleep in the ICU. With half of his colon and a third of his bladder ripped off from his insides. I had left him a letter. Saying that he was brave and I was proud of him. This time we hug and cry. I'm leaving again. I'm not sure when I will see him again. Maybe a year, or two, or three. But times are better now. Though, that's when I feel it: the feeling of being in the middle of an endless, free fall. Saturday, May 02, 2015. And th...

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