Chimerical echoes

We are the clouds that veil the midnight moon; How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver, Streaking the darkness radiantly!--yet soon Night closes round, and they are lost forever: Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings Give various response to each varying blast, To whose frail frame no second motion brings One mood or modulation like the last. We rest.--A dream has power to poison sleep; We rise.--One wandering thought pollutes the day; We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep; Embrace fond foe, or cast our cares away: It is the same!--For, be it joy or sorrow, The path of its departure still is free: Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability. Percy Bysshe Shelley ------------------------------------------------------------ A significant thought of an aspect which is part and parcel of our lives............

The whiny little kid and his stuffed animal are according to me the only effective remedy to depression, sadness or any thing on the negative side…….. No matter what sad mood I am in they always crack me up. Not just that they put forth so many ways of looking at things... I mean the kid is awesome in his point of views….. (No denying the superior creativity of the creator Bill Watterson. I can’t thank you enough for creating these characters.) Hmmm getting back on track, I just adore the way Calvin puts forth words of which I have no clue of (I use my dictionary more diligently while reading them) and the way he justifies his selfish intentions with exceedingly noble value system…. There are also points where I feel absolute astonishment at the fact that he is kid who everybody hates to love, who drives everyone crazy, make people so mad that they want to tear him apart but end up as someone who you cannot help but adore. There is not anything more to say about the comics……because w

Classics have their own appeal.... No matter how many times you read through those pages you always retain interest for them. I would say that the plot always seem appealing to us and in a way better than many of the modern day monotony that we read..... One such favourite of mine is the play "Twelfth Night" by Shakespeare..... This romantic comedy does a splendid job of examining the facets of love... (there is however no need to be really romantic to appreciate it!) I mean to say that the story proceeds in such a fashion that is quite humorous and the various comic relief's in the play keep value adding to the plot. BUT it is necessary to read explanations of the dialogue to truly appreciate it. The play does a great job at painting the picture of love by men and women.......... Also bringing out the fickle mindedness of people, the imitation that many believe to be love as well, as the tragic trail to happiness which love encounters. Simply put the characters present

The greatest battle which an individual encounters is only from within. (A very popular quote)…. Which I say holds true and could relate to each and every one of us… All of us are fighters I mean we keep fighting our fears at one point or other in our lives. As children darkness could have been our greatest fear, why not many grown ups still harbor this fear. The foolishness of some of the fears is noteworthy but who am I to judge which is trivial and which is not. And whether we conquer the fear or learn to live with it is a matter of personal choice. I would say it takes strength to own up and a person who accepts the fear will be closer to conquering it than any other who shows empty courage of having already conquered it….. Hmm to say what I am doing right now only reflects the age old, 100% true saying: It is easier to preach than practice. Our personal journey gives us, a lot of trials by fire. Each and every one of us have had points when we question our existence, the reason we

Lift not the painted veil which those who live Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there, And it but mimic all we would believe With colours idly spread, --- behind, lurk Fear And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear. I knew one who had lifted it --- he sought, For his lost heart was tender, things to love, But found them not, alas ! nor was there aught The world contains, the which he could approve. Through the unheeding many he did move, A splendour among shadows, a bright blot Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove For truth, and like the Preacher found it not. By Percy Shelley 1818