2017-09-29T21:12:29+05:30 lifetype-1.2.12_r7211 http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/rss.php?blogId=43&profile=atom Copyright (c) odyssey tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2017-09-29:7653 2017-09-29T21:12:29+05:30

twoninezeroninetwozerozeroeight and what a nine!

odyssey El Eye Ef Ee twoninezeroninetwozerozeroeight and what a nine! tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-10-09:7454 2016-10-09T17:54:42+05:30

and then it begins to crumble the wall that you had built giving it your years of tireless labour dreaming of it by night laying brick by brick, by day and when the wall was complete you ...

odyssey Poetry and then it begins to crumble the wall that you had built giving it your years of tireless labour dreaming of it by night laying brick by brick, by day and when the wall was complete you sat there crying running your numb fingers along its finish for, it was your dying hour home became a mere metaphor when the boys grew up into adults and the wall aged soaked in rain, it gathered moss they will never know  how glad you will in your grave be if they fain touch the wall such is the life after death but now, the wall is crumbling because someone somewhere pulled a brick and crushed it into sand such is the tale of neglect should the wall be put up again? but what crumbles once crumbles again and again. and again. and again. and again. till you forget how many again times it has crumbled; till it gets tired of crumbling or dies. again. tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-10-05:7449 2016-10-05T15:45:53+05:30

two cups of hot tea lay on the table as if they whispered to each other they issued faint smoke she picked up his and walked to the window that looked into a pond through the ...

odyssey Poetry two cups of hot tea lay on the table as if they whispered to each other they issued faint smoke she picked up his and walked to the window that looked into a pond through the still, cold water moved like a knife, hamid's naked frame bearing the traces of love that her nails had made she held the cup between her palms as she would, his face and brought it to her smiling lips fate cannot be always kind, though the looking-glass will break and its racuous laughter will cut your reflection into pieces so there in front of her, hamid, her life and in stealthy silence barely fifty feet behind, her death "there's no place safe when men cry for war", smirked the captain looking out from the war tank and nodded, "do it!" "but she is harmless", said the junior "blow her up!" - the captain -------- "noor!" hamid cried but the house that stood on the edge of the cliff was razed embers of the rubble hurt his feet "noor!" he cried but neither blood nor bone could he find burdened with ash he ran into the forest to search for her footprints and all the trinkets that adorned her body once and fell into the secret corners when their fingers played the games of love but the snow pulled a blanket on the leaves, fallen and green on the barks weary and tendermost alike on the smallest detail of the roads he was the only spot which moved in that frozen landscape every tree looked same sullen, hiding in the drape of white afar, the horizon dissolved spreading the pall of gloom he ran like a lunatic caught in an absurd maze only to find nothing fine as a razor's edge grief cut him in two nothing was naked anymore in that forest save his anguish tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-09-29:7440 2016-09-29T14:37:43+05:30

twoninezeroninetwozerozeroeight

odyssey El Eye Ef Ee twoninezeroninetwozerozeroeight tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-07-23:7324 2016-07-23T01:28:20+05:30

he just frowned or smiled it was unclear when she asked how the winters, ten and more, had passed her fingers, still as slender, curled into the handle of the coffee ...

odyssey Poetry he just frowned or smiled it was unclear when she asked how the winters, ten and more, had passed her fingers, still as slender, curled into the handle of the coffee mug. his fingers ached she asked again, now smiling, about the winters would those lips taste of coffee or of the sweet longing of all those years he won't know in this winter of life what tales could he have of those winters,  without her, lifeless so he just frowned or maybe he smiled it was unclear but then life etches its tales on your face in wrinkles fine and each wrinkle hid a tale that he will - when all light fades - whisper to her in silence tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-07-07:7302 2016-07-07T15:44:15+05:30

i hugged a tree. on my fingers a butterfly perched briefly and then it flew fly away it did, i thought with its tender wings it flew, and flew more across the seas and ...

odyssey Poetry El Eye Ef Ee i hugged a tree. on my fingers a butterfly perched briefly and then it flew fly away it did, i thought with its tender wings it flew, and flew more across the seas and thousand miles the hour was quiet in those woods deep it found the tree that she was hugging and, it then kissed her svelte, gentle fingers oh, and in my heart i felt a flutter tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-06-30:7287 2016-06-30T12:46:53+05:30

crimson dusk fades slowly as the dying murmur of the restless waves a gentle breeze from afar ruffles my hair i think it's her loving fingers as the breeze leaves me my heart ...

odyssey Poetry El Eye Ef Ee crimson dusk fades slowly as the dying murmur of the restless waves a gentle breeze from afar ruffles my hair i think it's her loving fingers as the breeze leaves me my heart flies off, too, along with her the clouds are gathering blurring the distance and i smell the rain on these feeble sands my infirm feet tiptoe and my fingertips dance tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-04-19:7239 2016-04-19T20:33:26+05:30

of the shade burlesque awake in mute gray the walls won’t talk and she can’t hear ripped from time he lay still, cold as a buried dream unmoved by her tears she ...

odyssey Poetry of the shade burlesque awake in mute gray the walls won’t talk and she can’t hear ripped from time he lay still, cold as a buried dream unmoved by her tears she caresses his toes they tickle no more a silence so haunting fate’s cruel laughter! “dad, where have you gone?” she whispers, almost but then, life is so a vile trick of time when she was born his life became fuller and in his death her life now, lighter “what is this, dad”? she asked, in a moment past pointing at the title of a book he loved without his saying a word she now understands what it means: “the unbearable lightness of being”   tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-03-02:7159 2016-03-02T12:46:29+05:30

As if it’s a golden rule, we blindly associate strategy with success. So much so that we don’t even acknowledge that those who fail have strategies too. Strategy has nothing to ...

odyssey Management As if it’s a golden rule, we blindly associate strategy with success. So much so that we don’t even acknowledge that those who fail have strategies too. Strategy has nothing to do with success or failure; it’s a mere plan, a wish. Nothing more. You can have an impeccable strategy and yet lose, or a loose one and yet win. You are playing a game with many loose ends, and not pushing a ball into a visible hole. You will rather smirk at this if you are a successful executive leading a unicorn. For you don’t want the world to know you are being paid millions for just playing dice. This doesn’t have to be so. Take credit for the move (which is, no doubt, a function of intelligence), but not for what shows up on the dice.   tag:blogs.fullhyderabad.com,2016-02-11:7149 2016-02-11T15:29:48+05:30

from the table afar beckoned by a brief glance she smiled at him; a moment so joyful it effaced all time, all the years and every minute they parted for a fate so cruel they ...

odyssey Poetry from the table afar beckoned by a brief glance she smiled at him; a moment so joyful it effaced all time, all the years and every minute they parted for a fate so cruel they part every time if they meet as lovers; a destiny so kind their paths cross as if bound to, if strangers they pretend to be so they vowed in whispers quiet, silent and unspoken, that they shall meet as strangers so familiar they need not utter a word but yet she was afraid if he has brought along the past – a bittersweet secret that only they (she and he) know but his hands were bare bare as the agony of a longing that still burns, a longing that they never let to their fingertips or the unkissed lips at midnight hour the day before he walked through the stooping corridors of time through the burlesque labyrinths of memory through the crumbling walls of dreams and hurled into the deepest woods that precious secret at dawn as it lay frozen in a stray nest a squirrel stopped by and ate it fine the restless eagle finished the remains so his hands were bare he doesn’t need carry the weight of the time gone by he can now see it all in her eyes which, with one glance, melt both the dreams that were treasured in the past and memories of this evening he will take to the grave he smiled, too but said not a word for, what if it will, yet again, invite the wrath of the brutish fate she stood up and briskly walked out before even her fragrance could waft along his bearded cheeks minutes later as the fumes of unshared coffee felt the two empty chairs all one could hear was the deep sigh of two hearts that belong