That kin, the blood, in that friend.

My sweethearts, you may never be reading this, I am calling out to you : Madhu and Anoop, and Sajan
You have been tarnished by a friend called Roshan. Yet, you never took off, nor complained, nor ever even spoke about dark nights, to this day.

You are my sweethearts, ever if I could die for you too, I will.

Yours only,

Roshan Menon

'Renegadic'

Not of them 99 to detune.

Watching a Man roll a first cobblestone is a feast. Taste the meal.

It'll make you Himself.

Expand the Great Minority.

The act of Anti - pretense

In within the cage of human bondage, there exists a superhole of escape : the human Imagination. Artists of variety break away from the clutches of monotony and vanity, sensibly averting to this boon, once in a choice of their time segments. Segments that are glued by a vacuum of mystery at the narrow roads of thought, of the onlooker. There exist the seeds of creation. The stubbles on their faces grew with the lines, the beard with the riffs and beats and the haunting melody and words said by the sinusoids of voice.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73dvrir5kig

A Reminiscence Script

(Victor Borisov-Musatov's)

Hello Mayflower !

How are your eyes? Do they still carry the blue oceans as they had been ?

Do you still entice that distant blind with your fragrance ?

Are you still the faith and reason of anyone strong ?

Are you growing old, has time tamed the one it envied ?

Is there the chill in the evening air ?

You remember the warmth that I had been?

I am not a spectator.

I am not a spectator. I never have been ,I never shall be .

Maybe not before you , Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar ,not today when you rocked today with your century habit, not today when I could watch you in the perspective.

I was watching a Hero who promised me a Cricket treat years before when he was smiling at me from my wall, I was watching him execute his Statement.!

Sachin, you are Great ! Watching you in your process is a privilege !

Jimmy Launders : A Star by himself ,a Star by accident.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNiyO6ZV0CU

The hunt for the U - 864 commanded by the young Ralf-Reimer Wolfram ,by the HMS Venturer in the hands of the still younger Jimmy Launders ,a mission that could have turned the tide of the War and its victors in the fifth year of war, an undertaking by a rival that sought for a miracle as much as its adversary would.

Miracle doesn't favour all of them rivals, that's her protocol.

A war doesn't too. A powerful German deep down to her steel, the U - 864 would have proved a lopsided call at her marine adversary,had she been the hunter, and the Launders story would have been of the fallen.

Yet, a Captain is a Captain. Jimmy Launders wins Ralf-Reimer Wolfram.

In short the Brits win over the Germans.

The streets of Tardeo.

Walking down the first steps ,after a short evening's drink,
Through the now familiar maze,old,young and wound,
feeling the pavement,the road,and the wind,
the chilhood-day notions of a city,realise in a land,a dream,in a hundred phrases abound.

I see the footsteps of a million men,
staggering ,and firm,
for their eyes might had been fixed,
on lights,and skies and freedom .

The distant rattling of carriage wheels,
in their arrogant pursuit to wave,perhaps a new conquest , a symphony ,
in a tempo,high and brave,
of colours and glitter ,and thrills.

This is maybe,the land,
when lost men recover,
their futile battles with a band,
for they had soared,
high over the life and ways of their clan.