tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32417052663175612262012-01-26T22:04:01.124+05:30...travelogue, a document of lost thoughts and moreSamuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.comBlogger951100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-76530368321998388512012-01-26T21:02:00.003+05:302012-01-26T21:06:49.062+05:30

It maybe called a thousand things and adorned with many more adjectives. I don't understand it yet I feel it more... What is love if not you and I? ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-11073439839735998122012-01-23T07:26:00.001+05:302012-01-23T07:26:43.532+05:30

Watched "Into the Wild" movie today. One of the best that I have seen in recent times. The way the movie ends is just so moving -- especially when the Super Tramp scribbles - "Happiness, real only when shared" and passes on to another dimension. Followed by two minute Michael Brooks instrumental of Hard Sun as the credits roll. There was life in that score and that chant. Also, loved Eddie

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-36878258059706038412012-01-20T09:02:00.001+05:302012-01-21T06:10:12.005+05:30

God created the world. And then in everything he created himself. Essentially. I dont know why I said that. Have you ever tried to understand the "grand scheme of things"? I sometimes get high and try to just think about "something". That is my marijuana. When I am high, I am amazed, many a times, by the interconnection of data all around us. I'll give you an example. Let me think. Okay, I

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-55315167502507420712012-01-19T00:16:00.000+05:302012-01-19T05:56:56.979+05:30

...and he was tired and depressed -- he had had enough. Today would be the last day of his miserable life. The table was littered with knife and pen. Blood stained cloth, ink stained tissue. Metaphors of life and expression. Speaking of expression, he sat down and wrote a long note of what was wrong with him and things around. The story of his great depression and of suffering: sadness that

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-49407494419687852022012-01-07T17:19:00.002+05:302012-01-07T17:24:09.716+05:30

Do you know what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? I have an answer that comes very close. Story behind this picture: A friend was asked to open these cans of mushrooms using a tin cutter. Not knowing how to use it -- this was how he managed -- coercing and forcing his way in. Per news reader in office elevator, US government has broadened the definition of rape

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-56179663425215249142011-12-28T00:55:00.001+05:302011-12-28T00:55:28.699+05:30

I fancy songs with poetry. And I love sad songs. I like mixing things. And I love medley. This is a medley. Medley -- of a different kind. Stumbled upon an artist today, Bonobo happens to be the name. Mixed two of his songs -- interleaving, not just paragraphs but more Let me know if you feel it -- my plight in his wordshis words arranged in my order, effortlessly or more seamlessly? ~ Samuh

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-51800167231635678682011-12-11T03:13:00.001+05:302011-12-11T09:41:22.904+05:30

The wind is in my hair, the sun reflecting off the rear view mirror. I've got my leg stretched over the door, as we speed by the country side. Life seems like a journey. Sung through the country music. Felt through the guitar tunes played on the car stereo. I hold on to this view, intoxicated by Budlight.   I am lost in thoughts and in flashes of life -- memories of our past flash by. Like

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-85564417734829588882011-12-06T08:25:00.001+05:302011-12-06T08:35:52.882+05:30

I love violin. It moves me. The sound is so beautiful it evokes something in me. Like rain falling from an overcast sky Like breeze that flows through the chimes Like an inexplicable deep feeling somewhere inside borne in you when you are so full needing nothing more... On a rainy night like this, in candle light and some darkness the flickering flame casts shadows on the wall and this song is

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-37864440831631161142011-11-30T07:15:00.001+05:302011-11-30T07:19:41.444+05:30

These lineson the road and the skieslines of white and redof the infinite horizon and maddening sunset.This music and mood this arduous journey from girls afoot, to mermaids in sea amongst the beauty and splendorof this god made worldIs a man made thoughtthis memory of you.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-10942912169054559582011-11-02T21:07:00.000+05:302011-11-02T21:07:09.915+05:30

The journey to your heart began when you let me in. Now, I find myself standing staring back at a receding doorone you just closed on me. And I wonder how the journey was? And what did I do wrong to not deserve you or at least the truth? And how did you manage to overlook what you once held so dear?

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-36987432057760519342011-10-31T22:15:00.001+05:302011-10-31T22:15:52.086+05:30

Sometimes you say things that you never thought you'd do and end up hurting people that you care about the most. If we let our egos collide and are steadfast in our anger we end up losing up on something that was and is beautiful. Though you cannot turn back time you can always go back in your head to reclaim the most beautiful part of your life. And you can always forgive and change. It is only

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-36066345680970174812011-10-30T09:41:00.000+05:302011-10-30T09:41:30.502+05:30

October 29, 2011. 10:40 am I am standing on a bus stop waiting for the Septa 125 bus to Gulf Mills. Woke up today thinking about you -- we have rain and sleet.Forecast of 3-5 inch snow.Two bottles of finest scotch in my bag. October 29, 2011. 11:33 amIn the bus, sitting next to me is a lady talking to herself. Possible loony. I wonder who am I to make that judgement; am I less crazy? Outside, I

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-2748977290757675392011-10-25T10:06:00.002+05:302011-10-25T10:07:41.147+05:30

Falling in love was easy All you had to do was be your real self. I lost myself in you, right when I lost you. Love fell easily and I find me searching my own self. ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-58660924827353746462011-10-22T19:38:00.000+05:302011-10-22T19:39:11.611+05:30

Love is more than what you think it is it brought together two strangers and took them out of this world to a secret garden how can it be so wrong now? How can you not remember that place now? You have your days under the sun as I stand in agony of playing a second fiddle watching you take the easy way out in search of a better life. You'll move on and say I should do too is this how you say

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-68139997722327136022011-10-14T21:02:00.004+05:302011-10-14T21:02:58.867+05:30

You should know where you are,standing amidstfamiliar circumstances, unfamiliar groundsafter all you came here on sure feet.Yet why does this heart still wonder?What if you never go back to see her again?And what must she be doing right now? ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-1528506785014663132011-10-09T07:33:00.002+05:302011-10-09T07:37:41.841+05:30

Carpe Diem. Latin. Means sieze the day. The day is already set beyond the horizon -- while netflix ran three senseless hollywood movies. I stand up dazed -- seeing in everything shades of gray -- feeling fazed staring out of bathroom mirror. Three day stubble. Mom. Girlfriend. Warm water bath. Hot water with lead. Where do ideas come from? Step in the tub. Float. Neural network

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-74627040988510795202011-10-01T10:39:00.002+05:302011-10-01T10:42:02.335+05:30

Fragments of glass Things had to be broken to let her in, love was to be had, lives were to be made, The memories etc. are all in pieces now it had to be broken to let her out. ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-19114198379699629752011-09-29T10:02:00.001+05:302011-09-29T10:03:48.378+05:30

She was like a dream, a river stream always flowing through the forests that kept him evergreen. Now she's gone and so have the rains. ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-69649908931223849602011-09-27T08:32:00.001+05:302011-09-27T08:34:00.077+05:30

Only a few things by Above and Beyond ft. Zoe Johnston Only a few things will we recall With love, with gratitude Only a few things On the hour in which I die So if I cannot tell you if though words I do not find I want you to know There are only a few things that I will be carrying In my memory when I go Only a few things will we recall With true happiness with gratitude Only a few things

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-40038135403269044382011-09-25T19:15:00.000+05:302011-09-25T21:15:03.809+05:30

Love is a beautiful thing, makes you feel so good not only about your own self but your life -- Life is you after all. Getting in love takes a lot of courage, finding the person who can match your passion takes an eye -- you have to know what your heart wants. Once you find it, its upkeep takes even more -- Love is willingness to be with someone after all. Most of the love stories fall

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-73582118138297302042011-09-25T06:11:00.000+05:302011-09-25T06:12:49.486+05:30

When a mind is stuck in the depths of sadness and recession, it seems as if the only way to bring it to the shore is to get high.  You fill your glass with a spirit to mend your soul.  You take the other end of the TRS and plug it in -- and you feel the signal move through the wires, spirit through your veins, the sound through speakers and music through you.  You tune the radio to a

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-31866438386766343282011-09-22T21:14:00.001+05:302011-09-22T21:14:20.337+05:30

Zindagi ke is daur mein logon ki bheed ke beech kho na jana yun ki hum nazar na aayeinzajbaaton ke sailaab meinyun beh na jaana ki tum hume nazar na aaohum aaj bhi wohi hain jisse tumhe ishq hua thahain to sirf thode gumgeenshiqaayat sirf itni ki tum humare kareeb nahi... ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-62066226988394149342011-09-17T22:10:00.001+05:302011-09-17T22:10:27.757+05:30

When I am alone and in the open,  nursing my open wounds, I often look up to the sky,  missing you. My heart tells me that the world is one big bed,  this sky our blanket the day I turn to the other side I will find you Always.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-66737228100486949512011-09-13T18:54:00.002+05:302011-09-13T18:59:01.125+05:30

I cheat myself and break my heart and I have every reason to believe, one other. It has been a month of heart breaks. I’ll try to say a little more: Love went on and on Until it reached an open door – Then Love Itself Love Itself was gone. Leonard Cohen says it all. ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-88795417013425123362011-09-11T09:55:00.000+05:302011-09-11T09:55:04.865+05:30

I don't need assurances and promises of love. What I need tonight is a hand on my foreheadfor a peaceful sleep. That is all I ask for Nothing more, nothing less.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-30762203763057833892011-09-10T08:01:00.000+05:302011-09-11T09:57:17.037+05:30

Fly to the highest branch, farthest from these heathen grounds for the best view of your world -- lit by a splendid sun soar with the wind to find the ripest harvest When you are full from all the beauty and splendor and you lay your head down to rest on your narrow bed Let me know if you missed my open arms...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-79080833731525375272011-09-08T20:44:00.003+05:302011-09-08T20:49:17.635+05:30

Humans are selfish. They hold on to whatever will help them get by. Survival instincts. And then they play their favorite blame game. When they find no one, they blame time. I don't trust humans, less so their instincts. But aren't you human too? So, does all this not apply to you, also? See, that's where you got it all wrong. I ain't human anymore but a parasite -- thriving on

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-5061156266764462052011-09-04T19:43:00.000+05:302011-09-05T20:30:32.827+05:30

Day one started a day ago... The view of the airport the airplanes -- the takeoff and landing  a travelers bag, an air ticket  the color on the streets.  The long, scary night drives on freeway  the pit stops for food and fuel  all the drinking and laughter  The songs in the car stereo and the feel of the road  Check-ins at the hotel the mid-afternoon  search for food-

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-24023125810075577932011-08-31T17:19:00.003+05:302011-08-31T17:19:48.755+05:30

The lines -- tire marks of a Korean chariot. A wall with a window overlooking growing distance. August and September a boy learning to count days. ... scribbled under the influence of JD early in the morning.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-22419819946222784692011-08-28T05:00:00.002+05:302011-08-28T05:00:51.425+05:30

Absolutely drunk on a eveningwhere night already seems to have fallensulking in sadness alonein gravest of circumstance, I question the origin of my pain, wondering if its the rain or hurricaneor am I just missing you? ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-1694933869510855562011-08-27T07:53:00.000+05:302011-08-27T08:02:20.855+05:30

French Lounge Music in the back ground my heart plays cello -- saddest tunes I've ever heard And the mood seems to have hung somewhere between the past and present and the what-could-have-beens. A bottle of Jack Daniel's offering an escape from pain. Don't question me its cause -- hear my cries and you'll know the origin Neither condescend nor patronize. Leave the man to his will and his

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-51605927052176015372011-08-26T18:56:00.002+05:302011-08-26T18:56:52.024+05:30

In your preparations to lie or hide something from someone also prepare yourself a contingency plan -- what if the other person finds it out? The important thing to consider in your contingency plan is to exclude your attitude; which is to say, if the other person finds out your lie, don't give him your attitude. It only worsens the case.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-46255894907372859022011-08-25T07:47:00.000+05:302011-08-27T18:38:01.365+05:30

It'll be just a minute she said and left with her phone, closing the door behind her ages seems to have passed since and I am lying awake in bare moonlight, still waiting for her in after life...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-35246365889750848932011-08-24T05:42:00.000+05:302011-08-24T05:49:43.926+05:30

Just a few days ago, I had completed  yet another letter, and kept it  with a dozen others in that fateful bag  bearing choicest of my memories.  Like those phone calls -- governed by a divine plan  Like those what-could-have been moments,  promised nights and happy dawns  you broke in rather indiscriminately  and robbed me of them all.  But for whats in them you can never steal 

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-48003518046628800552011-08-19T09:38:00.001+05:302011-08-19T09:43:18.768+05:30

Sometimes you find a song that you like and can relate to so much that you just keep playing it again and again. This is one such song - Above and Beyond - Sun and the Moon It’s raining, it’s pouring A black sky is falling It’s cold tonight You gave me your answer Goodbye Now I’m all on my own tonight And when the big wheel starts to spin You can never know the odss If you don’t play you’ll

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-23912060907276089832011-08-19T09:31:00.001+05:302011-08-19T09:31:34.102+05:30

There'd be people who'd sail to the worlds end just to find right words to say to youI said what I felt in the words I knew Would you call me lazy or careless? ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-71909133547454441392011-08-08T08:08:00.005+05:302011-08-08T08:24:02.296+05:30

Saw an old man once, with beard like a wizard wisdom in his eyes, wearing a countenance haggard man of the sort who has achieved all in his life who can stand amidst a quarrel and with one word can end a strife; standing in the line, where it was believed God answered prayers... So, I walked up to him and asked : Father, what do you seek here? I've heard you've everything know everything

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-79464518042069150002011-08-05T07:33:00.000+05:302011-09-11T10:03:00.283+05:30

Left everything behind for a higher good friends and kins, lover and the loved ones bade goodbyes to sun on one side, to watch it rise on the other sailed the milky haze,to be awed by life and its silver glaze But I don't know when the transition truly happened? I made it to the wonderland, yet I wonder if I left heaven? arms of my lover, endless circle of loved ones. Guess I always knew those

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-77139380614582339592011-07-24T06:54:00.000+05:302011-07-24T06:54:59.016+05:30

I am old school when it comes to matters of love. Nothing beats the silent fervor of the feelings you go through when you sit across the table looking into the eyes of person you care about the most in that moment of time. The idea of love letters appeal to me. Words can mean different things when they express feelings and are best understood by none other but by the one who wrote it. Or the

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-310045954963538322011-06-19T08:26:00.001+05:302011-06-19T08:27:00.800+05:30

As she shimmy shakes the jimmy jakes of consequence... I brave the silence of my world with restlessness in my heart. Lyrics I fear that I'm ordinary, just like everyone To lie here and die among the sorrows Adrift among the days For everything I ever said And everything I've ever done is dead and gone,  is gone dead all things must surely have to end And great loves will one day have to

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-28817876214562097872011-06-18T08:04:00.000+05:302011-06-18T08:04:12.795+05:30

... Aloo Capsicum. Come get some!

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-3500174783441284202011-06-16T21:25:00.015+05:302011-06-16T21:30:09.607+05:30

Attitude-  Charles Swindoll The longer I live, The more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-87600815829252927602011-06-15T07:59:00.017+05:302011-06-15T08:08:39.915+05:30

This is one of the oldest songs that I could remember listening to when I used to work out in the gym. it is by Schiller, the German band that I have grown fond of day by day. The transliteration is left as an exercise for the reader. [If you really care, you will translate it anyways.] Ruhe, das höchste Glück auf Erden,kommt sehr oft nur durch Einsamkeit in das Herz.Die Liebe kennt nichts,

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-40534646230435936872011-06-14T22:47:00.014+05:302011-06-14T22:54:53.123+05:30

Am not afraid, not regretful of what I did;I knew not what I was doing, where I was headed all I know is that I am where I am supposed to bea short time, etched permanently in the space of infinityel mundo, this life is just a moment in time that shall pass by, like everything else. ~ Samuh   

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-49136970402979536322011-06-10T22:22:00.074+05:302011-06-12T04:39:01.240+05:30

I opened my inbox this morning and found a compensation review letter in it. The timing of this letter is not right. It stirs up a bunch of dormant feelings that are nothing but painful to say the least. We have these appraisal meetings and discussions twice every year; I've seen decisions being made by gut feelings and adjustments made to fit the math. Feedback are only given during these

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-57660652563093451952011-06-01T09:50:00.000+05:302011-06-01T09:50:02.285+05:30

I feel a great void on a beautiful day with absolutely nothing to do. What exactly did I take vacation from? A strange sensation somewhere south gives rise to a heat wave that surges towards the head. It brings pain; the head aches. Starving but unsure of my cravings I breathe slowly in haste. You know the heart is impatient when it beats at a frantic pace. The mind is restless; knowing it wont

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-72511582886515709142011-03-02T15:59:00.002+05:302011-03-02T16:06:34.597+05:30

This poem is inspired by something a friend of mine(Amogh) shared recently. It is about the magical first touch - the electricity that runs down your spine and the way the moment is etched indefinitely in your memory. For some, this experience is what heaven would feel like. Livewire ...and there she lay, curled up, re-invigorating an irresistible fire, a sweet desire beautiful, sensational, a

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-16638801240773107202011-02-28T09:28:00.002+05:302011-02-28T15:51:21.133+05:30

This post was written about a month ago when I was troubled and was relying on pills to get some sleep. Some of you might have already read it; it is very depressing but I can't let this masterpiece go to waste: I wrote it when I was high under influence of an over dose. The lids feel heavy. I blink my eyes and they shut themselves down never wanting to bear the light again. Do I really want

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-38925853795780223582011-02-20T13:51:00.001+05:302011-02-20T13:53:28.947+05:30

If you read my profile description, I've written - different people have called me different things at different times in my life. Recently, more and more folks have chosen to associate me with the "nerd" tag. Maybe, the "nerd" gene is becoming dominant and I am evolving into one... Last week, we had an appreciation week in our company. We had an exercise where people could "tag" other

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-23398093309315859642011-02-06T11:24:00.002+05:302011-02-06T11:36:59.427+05:30

I was tired when I resigned to bed last night.When I woke up, I started hating aliens. Just like that. Though we are surrounded by a very few, I am not comfortable holding back my love from anyone for no reason. This post, is a reconstruction of all that transpired in my subconsciousness.*** I remember sitting in a bus, riding a train of thought, moving very fast and looking outside the window.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-82514019254647795322011-01-29T20:17:00.001+05:302011-01-29T20:19:43.605+05:30

It has been observed and rightly pointed out that the contents of this site and more importantly, my mood is becoming increasingly depressing. A change is required. So, in the spirit of HTTP dialect 1.1, status code 503 - "Parcha" will be Unavailable for some time. Not because the site is under maintenance but its owner is. Inconvenience is regretted; hope to be back soon...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-71552488596727479272011-01-18T00:28:00.003+05:302011-01-18T00:33:45.957+05:30

This note is a progression of thoughts. No effort has been made to make it look like a poem. But I hope it rhymes. Somewhere in the secret, sacred space of your mind. I was listening to "Turn off the century" by Pete Yorn and reading a book. I have had almost zero human company for around one and a half day. And I was unwell. Call this a lonely prayer if you will. Lying on bed with a book in

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-86602515693670472072011-01-14T12:40:00.000+05:302011-01-14T12:40:33.803+05:30

The different moods of the man.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-83845870765340036152010-12-26T11:41:00.003+05:302010-12-26T12:08:54.040+05:30

These are random musings of a time when I was stuck in traffic. Waiting for life to move. Light to turn green. *** I started with a goal.  I had to reach home before dinner time, which is usually 9 p.m. There was still an hour but I was stuck at Vashi, still 40 kilometers from home. Under bad traffic. The faulty air conditioning was making me cold. I have been traveling between Mumbai to Pune for

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-67575593700648142082010-12-19T21:48:00.010+05:302010-12-19T22:27:32.575+05:30

I can't drive. This ain't my story. My younger brother(Raj) narrated this incident to me when we both went out for a walk this morning.[Advisory: This recollection is decorated with expletives. Though I have replaced most of them with suitable substitutes this post is not advisable for the faint of heart.] ... I always thought one should know driving. It is a necessity. I am scared of driving (

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-20135564178193689992010-12-18T20:21:00.001+05:302010-12-18T20:23:05.291+05:30

I sometimes wonder what my suicide note would look like. If I ever resort to that of course. Given my recent pattern of blogging, I believe you will not be surprised if the said note were some sort of poem. In fact, I have already made an attempt.  Blinded by darknesstired of walking on broken glassoverwhelmed by the pain of a shattered heartfinally I let go off your handand take a fall in the

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-88189114108670432732010-12-12T17:26:00.003+05:302010-12-12T19:16:28.070+05:30

This is a continuation of a post, I published back in August. If you have not read chapter one please  make a visit and increase my page hits. The content makes sense, really. ... Rule# 2: Never be late to board the bus.  If you do that, you become an inconvenience to everyone. You must have seen the look and the love people reserve for folks who come last. I have been on the both sides

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-7718287813552793892010-12-12T16:53:00.006+05:302010-12-12T18:03:24.134+05:30

Going through with my life each day,living through each moment in such a rush,I still find myself hanging onto a memory of those eyes,a look of which once made me blush. There are different types of memories. This is a short note on Episodic memory. ... I believe that the length and importance of ones life is measured by the number of key moments or milestones. I think it is quite obvious.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-4286145017370561162010-12-11T17:42:00.002+05:302010-12-11T17:48:16.088+05:30

I am in knowledge of at least two people who would have featured in the list of the biggest romantics this world ever had, had they been a little lucky. This post is dedicated to one of them....A few things before I write it down:1. I wrote this right after I woke up from sleep and I am not keen on editing it so there could be mistakes in arrangement, tense or grammar. Please ignore errors that

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-21878948888477255182010-12-03T10:27:00.002+05:302010-12-03T10:30:21.550+05:30

 always knew I was hot in bed! If you can imagine you'll see that I am actually flying. Superman style!

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-21146816589507989992010-12-03T09:54:00.003+05:302010-12-03T10:14:25.867+05:30

Will you rather prefer giving meaning to randomness or assuming that what seems meaningful is random? Psychologists say humans try to give meaning to randomness. I am not feeling too human these days.  This post is random. Meaningfully random or randomly meaningful depending upon what your preferences are. NOTE: if you haven't understood anything till this point. No issues. Read along.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-57009848551256071912010-11-29T02:37:00.001+05:302010-11-29T02:40:42.981+05:30

Advisory: Following note is not funny. And is not intended to be taken that way. *** Working weekend. Eleventh. Not seen life outside of cubicle walls. Imprisoned. Breathing an effort. Eyes saturated with a crimson glow. Apathy. Ignorance. Pressure. Bad food. Politics.Insecurity and inefficiency around. A life lived by a body. Controlled by another. Taken. For life. Taken. For granted. Man is

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-8719941911304641622010-11-20T12:11:00.001+05:302010-11-20T12:15:56.547+05:30

Women like confessions. Of love, of course. You need to constantly assure them of your love. For those, who are unfortunate with words. Don't despair. There is internet. There are search engines! Someday, someone might need such a help. Perhaps at that time my blog will have a good page rank. I hope that this page turns up and helps at least one guy. At least that someone will put these lines

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-22196378719122781462010-11-17T08:37:00.000+05:302010-11-17T08:37:14.112+05:30

Wish and hope are two different things. For example: I wish... to be your good night kiss when you close your eyes, under the soft moon light meeting your parted lips, caressing one another ignorant of the world, consumed by bliss. I hope.. when you get lost in the chores of a long tiring day working the sweat on your brow in the summers of May, relive our past and smile let the memories be

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-70472690455780429742010-11-08T23:16:00.008+05:302010-11-09T08:52:28.599+05:30

Last weekend, my younger brothers (Raj & Sanat) got nostalgic about the only two wheeler, we once had. It was a bicycle. Raj rode it to school everyday. Sanat ran behind him. Until one day, our parents donated it to someone. *** My parents, for reasons best known only to them, are against buying any kind of automobile (not even a two wheeler). Not that they cannot afford it or anything but they

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-90494774644326805212010-11-04T20:17:00.002+05:302010-11-04T20:22:33.323+05:30

Last week, I finally got some time to have proper dinner and watch T.V. Not that I like watching T.V. or cant have dinner without it but I like the liberty of being able to do so, like other people. In between all the stupid advertisements, there was this KBC Hotseat promo in which, Mr. Amitabh Bacchan delivered this wonderful dialogue from an old movie of his. I loved it. I googled it. And I am

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-69535295027164308392010-10-23T22:19:00.003+05:302010-10-23T22:36:40.609+05:30

Every one in India loves cricket. And every one plays it too in at least one of its various forms. I am not any different. In this series of blog posts, I am going to share some of my cricket-stories and maybe a little more... *** For me, memories of watching cricket on T.V. dates back to a time before the infamous riots of 1992-93 that rocked Bombay. Days when Kapil Dev played in One Day

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-33747526531663687632010-10-16T12:46:00.003+05:302010-10-16T14:25:51.345+05:30

Once upon a time, the AC of our meeting room was leaking. The facilities department "fixed" it. The fix was  a plastic bucket(big tumbler?), which they placed on the table. People continued with their blabber, ignoring the bucket right in the middle of the table. I was wondering, what would the "outside world" think if they happen upon this scene? It seemed like people dressed in well ironed

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-67186308893383629022010-10-16T10:55:00.002+05:302010-10-16T11:15:10.682+05:30

You're sleep deprived, subdued and drained,all blood shot and tear stained. mind becomes restless, heart and spirit broken,when a window to your soul is forced open.They barged in and performed a boottied you up and took away the lootshoved a hand inside and plucked your heartwhile you sat and watched your life, an unfinished dream, torn, thrown and taken apart.A life that could have beenmoments

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-41324220478092554352010-09-25T15:30:00.000+05:302010-09-25T15:30:44.280+05:30

While you lay in the arms of someone else, feeling love and being loved, I lay on my bed dreaming, on a long lonely night. Wishing I had you here with me, the love of my life. I know I love you, wish I could see it in your eyes. If only I was a greater man, I'd have taken everything with a smile, Overcome the fear and hopelessness building inside. But I am just a man with a broken heart trying

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-89393358898672385882010-09-18T00:53:00.003+05:302010-09-18T01:10:20.428+05:30

My nephew ladies and gentlemen. Pippy is forty months old. He was born on 14th May, 2007. The same day my first project started. check out the hair do! He has been admitted to an all boys soldier school and is currently in a play group. Eye Candy! He can read letters, count and sing poems. He can sing our national anthem too. King of the world pose! He likes to listen to Keane,

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-15922846836261633182010-09-12T10:03:00.003+05:302010-09-12T11:35:27.826+05:30

Take a look at me. and the world inside. All the events I participate in.throughout my life.Read my mind. From my eyes.  Literally. ***30th August, 2010. Monday morning. Snooze?You're an idiot no doubt about that. This has become a routine now get used to it!Ask yourself this: do you really want to go?Buzz off.A day without me wouldn't hurt. The world will still continue its course.We have had

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-648634482595375102010-09-10T13:48:00.000+05:302010-09-10T13:48:42.294+05:30

I had only three lines in my mind. I have arranged those in form of a short poem. *** Can you take me in your arms tonight?The world seems cruel to a broken mancan you put me to sleep?Will you sing me a lullaby? I have fallen back and lost my herd With severed wings I cant flySo wrap your arms around meand sing me a lullaby. I want to sleep before I die... *** If you did not like the poem or

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-53151264384565389872010-08-21T00:26:00.001+05:302010-08-21T00:30:20.672+05:30

I promised someone that I would post pictures of my nephew. This even contains a short profile of the man in question! *** Pippy is my 39 months old nephew.  A smart kid for his age and very cute. I saw him first when he was just one day old.  looking through the window at the world outside His real name is Devansh. Not many people know that. dimples He is a student of all boys Soldier

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-63395354512331462032010-08-14T21:43:00.007+05:302010-08-15T10:11:07.487+05:30

I wish it were true. And that I could see it till the end. Note to readers: Chances are you might not understand this post. Certainly not fully. But no one is stopping you from building a hypothesis. It can only be completely understood by the girl who was there with me in my dream. *** [Me Narrating] : Sometimes, I dream of you and me on a bike. Ever Imagined what that would be like? There

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-52327340661917358312010-08-14T10:57:00.000+05:302010-08-14T10:57:37.394+05:30

I have to stretch at work, so much so that I do not get the time to do other things. A lot of folks see this and they say "I work really hard". I am not so sure. As I write this post, I will try to find an answer to the question: Do I really work hard?  Maybe I already have one but I am holding it back until I set a context. *** A guy, I know, went onshore(client place in the US). He was

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-22562776528129647112010-08-10T22:00:00.001+05:302010-08-14T21:56:52.163+05:30

I love the way you move, And I love the way you talk. I love the way you flow through my artless poems, and the way you handle my mental blocks. You are the reason I write and I don't care if no one reads my drafts the only thing that matters to this artist is you, his unfinished art, his only craft. ...

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-52226608511408641652010-08-10T21:43:00.003+05:302010-08-14T21:58:51.778+05:30

This was my first attempt at poetry. I had a hard time choosing a subject to write so I wrote about my Aphasia. *** Words If only I could read minds,things would have been little different ,for girl, I’d have never missed a signor a chance to say how I feel. They say, words are a gift butsometimes I feel I’d have been better offdeprived of this present.No expectations. No resentments.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-35546490332275417412010-08-04T14:49:00.002+05:302010-08-04T14:53:11.496+05:30

You meet all sorts of people when traveling. I have seen learned professionals argue like fools and I've seen country folks resolve big fights. They come in all make, shapes and sizes. Heck, in past forty months I have seen more variety than I would have ever seen in my entire life. This blog is aimed at highlighting some of the things that you should at least remember when traveling in a

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-63603241876158608762010-07-20T22:30:00.008+05:302010-07-21T09:13:40.956+05:30

This is a long, boring story. As simple and interesting as the title. * * * I am known at my workplace for my colorful shoes. I like my feet to stand out.  Recently, I bought a new pair of trekking shoes. Weinbrenner's from Bata store. These were tan colored. A friend suggested I try that color. * * * I was tired from being up all night. I had not slept for past four days. And so when

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-62800947256845208642010-07-18T20:55:00.001+05:302010-07-19T12:58:06.085+05:30

As always, I was not trying to write a poem. Sometimes, when I am sad and alone, I write. That is how this happened. And since most of you guys are my friends and have subscribed to my blog, bear it. Face my other side: one that is scarred with infinite sadness. I have named the poem such. Melancholy I kept thinking of all the words that I'd say even though I knew I didn't have a chance I

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-68200681646103022712010-07-15T08:08:00.001+05:302010-08-14T21:50:44.039+05:30

Samuh Varta is regular on FaceBook. There he gets a wall on which he can scribble whatever he wants -  his weirdest of philosophies. All in less than 160 bytes. Okay, characters. I have something on my mind today which cannot be expressed in 160 characters. Hell...I think words can never express what I am feeling at the moment but the following quote from Neil Gaiman comes really close. So, I

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-61353867529005889872010-06-17T04:11:00.003+05:302010-06-19T09:20:21.036+05:30

In case you are wondering, the title is in French and it translates to: the great misfortune of not being alone. This is not an attempt at poetry. These are random thoughts expressed in short sentences. Arranged to look like a poem. You may not like it. It is not that great. Really. The only reason this text appeals to me is because I was not fully awake when I wrote it. I penned it this

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-1476898802852559272010-04-24T23:41:00.006+05:302010-04-25T00:11:16.262+05:30

Thought of sharing this wonderful John Mayer's song, I happened upon recently. Heard it in the Date Night movie for the first time. Following are my favorite lines: How come the only way to know how high you get meIs to see how far I fallGod only knows how much I'd love you if you'd let meBut I can't break free at allIt's heart, heartbreak ... What are yours?

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-63885693815779058292010-04-15T20:02:00.006+05:302010-08-14T22:01:40.547+05:30

These are some of the pictures, I clicked from inside a bus when going home one morning. The rain had stopped and the landscape outside looked awesome - check them out!  The grey rain curtains... A regular bend on the road Sun shine Proof that the pictures were taken from inside the bus: see the reflection? Grass is always greener on the other side Silver Glass I can do with

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-70054875608543181612010-04-10T01:32:00.001+05:302010-04-10T01:37:12.867+05:30

When I went to my optometrist a couple of months back, he said that I used my right eye more than my left. I didn't believe him. I thought he was joking. He then handed over my results. I literally went blind in one eye. *** One evening, I was lying on my bed, reading an ebook on my laptop. I got so involved that I hardly blinked and kept on reading. Then suddenly, the lights went off and every

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-5092275694247337492010-03-27T12:51:00.012+05:302010-03-27T20:36:57.242+05:30

Last weekend I had planned on spending a quiet evening with my friends in Shisha cafe, Pune. A private moment with close friends, far away from the vicissitudes of routine life. But my plans were foiled. Yet again. Apparently, someone was stalking me because the very next morning I get an email from an anonymous account that had this picture enclosed: People, let me tell you it is tough being a

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-41104242937196695602010-03-22T23:33:00.000+05:302010-03-23T19:57:23.338+05:30

Lets begin, shall we? I was involved in a KT session this afternoon, discussing SMS APIs available in the Android Mobile platform, with my manager. He is surely one of the most irritating guys living on this planet. But that is not the point so lets not digress. During the session, my manager asked me for the exact name of the function which is to be used to send Text messages. I don't know why

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-20525110520989400092010-03-20T02:54:00.000+05:302010-03-20T11:05:17.687+05:30

I fear stupidity for it can even kill you. This is a story about one such mistake. *** I bought a MacBook couple of days ago. I had been saving for it since past three months. Usually, when you buy something new you would like to have your hands on it all the time. It is an attachment born out of natural human tendencies, I guess. Ironically, I never got to use my mac much since I bought it.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-12713767893929886362010-02-18T15:53:00.000+05:302010-02-18T22:43:47.287+05:30

I have a few magical powers and apparently one of them is Teleportation. This story is a proof. *** I was rushing to the bus stop to catch the 9 p.m. bus, still trying to grasp the implications of the meeting that had concluded just minutes ago. The said meeting was actually a demonstration of some mobile application I had written over the course of a month. While giving a walk-through of the

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-38446438007551730032010-02-13T08:30:00.000+05:302010-02-14T15:07:44.804+05:30

I believe there are only few things that interest me and when I find one I give it my full and totally undivided attention. I think this picture exemplifies what I am trying to say...This picture is from my Ooty trip which I took with my friends in January of 2007. We were atop Dodabetta, enjoying our Sundaes. It was very cold out there; but the sundaes looked too good and inviting to resist!

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-55063844869849574192010-02-09T23:10:00.000+05:302010-02-12T12:16:02.023+05:30

... a second chance is never guaranteed. I am going to tell real stories to support my point.* * *I realized, fairly early in my travels that this statement was at least partially true. You must've noticed this too: if you leave a bus or train purposely, hoping for a "better option" to come along, you are doomed. Murphy knew all this!When I worked in night shifts, I did my Pune to Mumbai

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-5300055758882614992010-02-08T20:33:00.002+05:302010-12-09T20:08:32.685+05:30

This is the only poem I've ever written (this is no longer true!). I had this nightmare when I was working in staggered shifts. The next day when I woke up I wrote my dream down in words. It sounded like a poem so I gave it a title too; here it is: The certain Uncertainty Home comes a man tired and depressed, Saying his bedtime prayers he resigns to bed. Shifting in sub-consciousness he seeks

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-25559506131031165592010-01-21T23:28:00.000+05:302010-01-21T23:52:13.351+05:30

That is what Benjamin Disraeli said. I came to understand and realize what he really meant recently. In a state transport bus.It was Monday. I took my usual 06:45 a.m. bus from Mumbai to Pune. I hadn’t reserved a seat; I had to almost fight to get into the bus and fortunately, got the last seat. I found a weird guy sitting next to me, smelling of alcohol and gutkha. The mere thought of sitting

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3241705266317561226.post-45845415558627074922010-01-21T23:04:00.000+05:302010-02-12T12:15:26.812+05:30

I go to my parent's place every weekend. It is around 90 miles from where I work. In my travels, I've come across many people and have experienced lots of different things. I decided to write about it and going forward this blog is also going to be my travel diary.

Samuh Vartahttps://profiles.google.com/114061978675545800786noreply@blogger.com0