Stochastic Cerebrations

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart - Helen Keller Being a student of finance, investment is something which keeps on running in my mind. Everyone wants to invest their savings somewhere and in return expect a good return. But what if that investment plan is giving you a abysmal low return? An optimist will continue to trust that investment with the hope that the condition might get better and the future profit will make up for some of the present losses, if not all. Or a person might withdraw the money and invest in a stock which assures high return on a short term basis. But, what on Earth has compelled me to pen down such a mundane financial boolean(high or low returns) logic? Well, the other day something happened and the only analogy which I could think of at that point was of relating this logic to life. When we start any relationship be it of son-daughter,brother-sister,colleagues or even fr

A million things to say yet speechless Silence which is not nice, nor its the comfortable types But the one, the awkward one, between strangers..... Silence between those who could talk to each other for hours Those who could talk without thinking a thing in the world Those who could talk without needing a topic to talk Hate the silence which is becoming normal between us..

The long svelte legs walked peacefully leaving faint embossments on the porous sand which was wet yet loose. Her dark brown hair glimmered in the light, looking like silk, dancing down beyond her shoulders with a pace she put forth; her blue eyes wandered towards the aeonian ocean with milky waves splashed the water on her; Her hands, slender and clasped together resembled the earth. The water had always been an conundrum for her. All of a sudden, everything turned quiet, there was an unusual silence around her. The deep rustic colored Sun was hitting the bed somewhere in the gigantic sky casting a dazzling image of the blue waters which looked even more royal. With the onset of dusk, the painted galore of red, orange and yellow hues seemed to grow denser with an cerulean on its lining.It was the most amazing painting the master artist could create. The unison of the birds and the waves hit one another twitched her sharp nose. It appeared as if the master of light was bidding adieu

Amidst the October night sky, The 15th element of the periodic table was flashing white, with flashes that flew low followed by a hebetudinous thump, her legs quaked as she felt the vibrations come up through the terra firma. The canines began to bark, the felines meowed louder than she could recall and then there was silence. Blossom, was at the top floor of her building, her heart was racing with hopes as the final skyrocket had been launched and that was the concluding thud of the evening. She thought everything was coming to an end and finally she could catch up on her sleep. In that fraction of muteness she was at peace, and so were the pets, atleast they seemed to be. Just then a flash followed by a deafening boom shook the windows, sending the pets into the most demented delirium she had ever witnessed. "Holy crap! Bloody son of a man..I just loathe this". The frustration piled up over the years was decipherable  in her dull voice full of annoyance and hatred.

Oh dear shadow of mine I can't help but enjoy being with you more each day The urge of being with you is more than words can say The days pass, I lose control After a while, I'll miss you with all my soul Whether you enjoy or whether you care I'll always be there for your smile For it is like the sunshine after a spell of thunder I need you to know, I'll always be there When you're in sorrow and breaking apart When someone breaks your heart and the cuts are deep On days and nights when you cry yourself to slumber I need you to know, I'll always be there On days when you feel you're alone When someone you confide moves on When all you need is a shoulder to lie upon,  I need you to know, I'll always be there Today or Tomorrow Days or Weeks Months or Years I'll be there for you To talk, to listen, to laugh, to gossip To worry, to weep or just to believe Just turn around and you'll find me Eternally to support you E

The reason why I write is the reason why I breathe Life might be a bird without wings Had words not been there to express myself Word for word I write my soul Things which I could never speak Without the invisible expression, so strong I would cry every day Forgetting the regret is what I try Don't wanna miss the life which is mine Without speech what I veritably feel I'll stay like this, always then The reason I write is the reason why I breathe  It's so that an Eagle can fly to the limitless ocean above I,with the want to rise higher and higher Finally stopped asking Why do I write?

Picture this: A person is moving all alone in a desert with the sun throwing fireballs and all of a sudden he notices an oasis. An oasis, so beautiful that it could have only existed in fairy tales. The person crawls his way to the oasis and sets up a camp. With each day passing, he realizes that the oasis too has accepted him and loves his presence. Day in and Day out, the Oasis cared for this guy and the guy in turn cared for the oasis. There existed an invisible bond between the two which was like the wind, one can't see it but can feel it.  They made a separate world of their own, free from any kind of impurity, away from evils. Both of them were like the force shield for each other, keeping the dementors at bay. One day in his dream he saw that the oasis turned into a human being who could only be compared to an angel from heaven. But soon, he realized it wasn't a dream. It was for real, the oasis had turned into an angel. People used to get jealous by their bonding

Satire is a sort of glass wherein beholders do generally discover everybody's face but their own; which is the chief reason for that kind reception it meets with in the world, and that so very few are offended with it. - Jonathan Swift Western history, Greeks, Romans, Mughals or even the current generation, one thing which has existed for this long is the art form, Satire. For me it's a necessary evil. I dwell upon satire, for me it is a source of one liners and jokes. Whether satire affects or not is the question to be asked. Whether it has the capability to effect change? One fundamental problem which I encounter almost everytime with satire is that people who understand the meaning are those intelligent souls who are already in agreement with the criticism which the satire has highlighted but for others it comes across as rude or even something stupid.  My use of satire is based upon the premise that how can one hope to point out certain flaws in norms when a cert

I lay on the grass With my eyes wide open I dream on The dawn dwells up I rinse the stars and color the sky With wings and thoughts of joy I fly high Across the mountains Across the rivers Where the mind meets the heart where time is eternity where youth is preserved forever Love and care are my companions All this and much more in my land of utopia

Have you ever experienced the urge of asking a question, but something else overpowered the urge and you never really asked? No! It wasn't because you didn't have the chance nor because you weren't allow to, but maybe you were scared..as the answer wasn't what you desired it to be.. And well, it might be that you were too scared that your heart wouldn't be strong enough for an undesirable answer..which may or may not be true As a result you left it un-asked!  Though, Not knowing will probably hurt more than knowing the truth.. but you let it go anyways!

Like a flower Radiating in it glory With each seed narrating its own tale As each petal blooms As it continues to grow The intensity and noesis upholds to show It becomes a bouquet Continues to blossom much more fair Tended cautiously By those who care. Once in life You cross a person As lovely as daisies As refreshing as lavender roses With a kind heart to lend I saw this bouquet I picked it up Soon all its pieces Matured in my heart But then I realized They were not leaves and petals But pieces of you. The love, the forgivingness The endurance and the might Acted like manure for me to grow Into my own orchid With our relation Which we'll never let go refreshing and energizing each other A flower you are,  A flower I am

As her baby soft hands reached me in ways I desired for Ohh that hurts me in coruscating ways  I was never prepared for nor I would have been With that, she holds me like I am the only one Ecstasy, the way we hug as we melt in arms Her love flowing through the embrace With the mild suaveness her heart registers surprises We look in each other eyes, I see my soul in them For life is a dream, blinded by her love I hope she craves for me in future, like today Her love completes my heart For my Raymonds suit to call me a complete man. :-P

She was standing there, with her hand resting on the coffin, with the scent of white lilies, rose foliage and lacquer, she was breathing heavily. The  fold was watching.  There were no scarcity of memories, be it strolling together in the sunshine to running/dancing in the rain or going on a random walk on a highway - getting lost and finding their way again, worrying about those unpaid maids, driver and utility bills; Celebrating almost everything - tiny or huge; shopping for each other to shopping for friends and relatives. She tried to marshal those  higgledy-piggledy   reminiscences  into order, allowing her to say something lucid. As soon as she did, something strange happened. Every now and then she started to analyze those memories,  but they became gradually less discrete and then vanished all together. Just like,  the more you squeeze, the more sand trickles through your fist, these memories played the same game with her. As it kept on happening, time after time, she be

“yatrigan kripya dhyan dein Nagpur se chalkar  Hazrat Nizamuddin jane wali gaadi sankhya 12345 always late express apne nirdharit samay se 3 ghante ki deri se chal rahi hai.. aapko hui asuvidha ke liye hume khed hai”  With that my wish of reaching home on time went down the drain. With few hours in my hand, I thought of finishing up the novel which I had but thanks to our “suvidha janak” railway stations, I was left wondering about the various “asuvidhas” which were around me. I don’t have any intentions of going to the jail hence no rants about any particular “educated” minister although I can do a phD thesis on the efficiency of these inefficient ministers and their ministries. These are just the observations which I made which spending those bloody 3.5 hours at the station on a sultry and oppressive afternoon. Most efficient people –  Bhaisahab & Behenjis at the ticket & platform ticket counter:  Amongst the most efficient employees of the railways. They are so pu

With the sky as clean a slate, sitting on the tip of a boulder in between a shallow river, he asked for an explanation, a justification for how do he stop himself from being hurt over and over again. They say the first time you make a mistake its an accident, the second time you make the same mistake its a habit, but he went on committing the emotional suicide by the same method time and again. The only thought which came to his mind was how exactly could he stop his heart from sinking? Was there any life jacket available? Was there any life guard who could help him reach the shore ? He hardly trusted anyone and whenever he did, it was again disproportionate. He told them everything, from eating a polo to spilling the biggest and the darkest secrets. They became an exception to almost everything he did. They were involved in every thought and action, with the idea that they would think of him, the same. But, the bitter truth is they kept him at the periphery of their lives, even o