tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-114789912011-08-31T03:02:34.950-07:00Just some scattered thoughts wandering (or should I say floating) about in my mindKeshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.comBlogger601100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-19616545506185471512010-11-02T11:46:00.000-07:002010-11-02T12:06:43.004-07:00

It is my hope and wish that one day you will grow up to be the man you are meant to be. A gentleman whom people will respect. One who knows and understands the importance of honesty, courage and loyalty. And most of all, I hope that you will challenge the supertitious narrow mindedness and pettiness that will be posed you at every step of your life.You will have doubt or be numbed into

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-73333911908610920512010-10-03T11:23:00.000-07:002010-10-04T06:14:11.526-07:00

I lived quite far from school. It may not be far by today's standards and I do travel a great deal more each day now than I used to when going to school, but it was far then. And for a long time it made me feel quite wretched because we did not have a car. Well, eventually we did but it was rather expensive to run it and we could not afford using it everyday.Living far from school meant I could

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-48923118488983520102010-06-02T13:09:00.000-07:002010-06-02T13:16:53.773-07:00

And yet it seems like yesterdayWhen like a child quite fierceCrossed I that silly treadAnd never looked back for years.Tumult and calmGroan and exhaltationCreeps and annoyanceNothing new nothing old.Hmmm. Now what? When having spent so longThe plants within look nurturedNurtured I a dearly feeling too.Where is it gone? Oh Where is it gone?It was easy.Same happy, smiling, worried faces. Nothing

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-60433050331870904252009-12-06T10:59:00.000-08:002009-12-11T07:10:41.544-08:00

"I completely hate him. Poor Pumpy!" Lala announced as soon as she stepped into the house. I was reading and Tipsy was munching. Po was sucking up to Tipsy. She wanted a blue, sorry, turquoise set to go with her blue, sorry, aquamarine dress that was to be the dress for her high school farewell party. Of course, no one bothered with Lala's epiphany because it was after all Lala. And we had got

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-22197410256068837562009-07-20T14:08:00.000-07:002009-07-21T13:31:11.018-07:00

A singular thought transfixed.While at that moment it is the truth.Why every breath mixedIn love and warmth its root?Fervour in a fit of passionOr is it a desire for oneness.Humble, quiet compassionIn life and act and fairnessRevered is that holy sight,I did see from my cradle.And in that ever guiding light,I did build my mettle.Upon that warm hand That rested on my shoulder.Upon that sacred

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-34219739844924740682009-07-14T22:02:00.000-07:002009-07-13T15:52:54.845-07:00

It is a matter of taste that food is more than a means of nourishment. I believe that the ordained truth is that food is meant to nourish the body as well as the soul. Somehow, it is also a motivating factor; one that allows one to strive. For, why else would there be restaurants, Michelin stars, exotic cuisine and the resplendence of a civilization in her culture and spread.But cooking is also a

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-78891004409345753072008-11-08T10:50:00.000-08:002008-11-08T11:15:44.900-08:00

I have wondered often if there is any truth to the belief that if you are too happy, you might feel sad soon...or atleast come by some real good opportunity of being sad. One thing I do know though, is that sadness serves to break the monotony of the utter drudgery of happiness. Or, maybe, sadness is the end towards which happiness leads us. Sort of like a repeater. Every time we get too bored

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-14063995798030066132008-06-28T11:45:00.000-07:002008-06-28T12:22:36.221-07:00

Faith In HumanityMy thoughts bother me immensely, till I feel I cannot think any more.When, like the song heard too many times loses its charm or an overdose of one's favourite food is easily tired, the thought kept too long in the mind loses its meaning...and its relevance.In anger, one repeats and repetition is a sign of mental weakness. Therefore, anger weakens.My nightly visitor visited me

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-37776189191548894812008-03-26T07:42:00.000-07:002008-04-05T16:01:53.138-07:00

The organization like any other had a distinct hierarchy, one that was in place without assertion or enforcement. It was widely accepted that hierarchy ensured decorum and decorum ensured hierarchy.The office was on the first floor of a building facing no where in particular, overlooking nothing in particular and seating a cramped army of silent workers made to toil under the false illusion of

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-27998803793531856082008-02-05T11:27:00.000-08:002008-02-05T11:56:05.916-08:00

My friend, why do you think so?Deep in thought and lowWhy fight with self this war?Why drive all who love so far?My heart fails me and so does my mindWill you leave me alone and be so kind?What matters if I do think so?This war is mine to fight;Please, leave me alone to take flight.You a friend I cannot desertAnd seeing you thus I fall apart.Why then don't you have more faith?Why make flight

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-90804709705009408822007-12-10T10:34:00.000-08:002008-01-13T23:05:26.773-08:00

Akhilesh Deshpande worked as a peon in the Hazaampur branch of the reputed Gokul Bank. He also happened to stay in that same locality, one of day labourers and vegetable merchants. Employees of Gokul Bank called this the purgatory and when any employee got transferred to this branch, his family immediately went into the most despondent mourning. Not for Akhilesh. This was his 'Karma Bhoomi' and

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-9930502717843920022007-10-12T11:58:00.000-07:002007-10-13T14:01:22.579-07:00

Longri was a good boy. Only he was misunderstood most of the time. It was not that he was not loved. He was loved and cared for. But people did not see Longri for what he was.Mrs. Anthony's classroom was usually a riot in the amusing sort of way. Her's was the most commanding voice in the entire block. It was a wonder that a 60 year old could utter with such energy and carry on glowering over

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-73536778093577155792007-08-24T15:01:00.000-07:002007-09-17T04:51:06.159-07:00

When Vita was born, her parents wanted a boy. Not that they disliked her but it would have been better if she were a boy because she already had an elder sister. It just so happened that she was born a girl.Vita was a peculiar child. She kept to herself mostly. She was a cheerful child in her own way, but shy. It was of course true, just as it usually is for the youngest in a family, that she

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-59119593776513341952007-08-07T12:57:00.000-07:002007-08-08T23:48:14.350-07:00

O Affliction burningYou burn me not yet moreSweet slumber's restful hateYou touch me yet no more.Spinning, twirling, skimming shyI unfold unfurl and unroll highTwisted, triumphant, bitter - fie!I fall back despondent creeping byTender hand of mother's love -Apparation simmering in my mind's groveRound about and yet again highYou touch me not, you touch me nigh!Ringing, raging, roughing - try!You

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-68147760171401821872007-08-07T03:54:00.000-07:002007-08-07T04:47:08.967-07:00

In the corner of Bosco Square was a tea house. It was a new tea house and quite a deviation from the rest of the tea houses in the city. While one might be acustomed to the small, loud and crowded tea houses, this one was rather quiet, large and expensive. It also had glass walls so that passers by could see right through. It was well lit and felt cosy when looked in from the cold street

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-84615056751585887552007-07-24T13:11:00.000-07:002007-07-28T10:25:49.923-07:00

Junaki looked into the mirror and considered herself once more. She liked to look into the mirror and smile. She felt that her smile should not be too wide and toothy. It had to be a gracious, warm smile opening just enough to show some teeth but not really the gums. And she had practised so that when Moloy first saw her smile, he did not realise what hit him. It was like 'boroxhun' (pronounced

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-91864718186426107522007-07-07T14:54:00.000-07:002007-07-30T01:14:49.819-07:00

"Hey Keshab..get up man. Nothing's happened to you. Come, I shall lead you to the car. Lean on me."I remembered Michael Bolton. I remember in school, Abraham Botoking had sung the song to perfection.The world was spinning. I was spinning. It was like entering a vortex that seemed to draw me into its core. I felt nauseaous. I retched again.I faintly remembered a comforting hand on my face while I

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-45430429453844100882007-06-18T12:21:00.000-07:002007-06-18T12:51:25.446-07:00

Apparently it makes the world go round. And it is also known to be the reason for the creation of some of the greatest poetry, the most enthralling novels and clearly, the most unbelievable circumstances."The first time I met her, I had just stepped out of the bathroom. And no, I was not in a bath towel because I wasn't taking a bath.""He is my best friend. I do not make friends easily. It takes

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-25621557101528966222007-05-27T09:48:00.000-07:002007-05-27T10:33:27.048-07:00

Attachment is self defeating. It is what divides the real from the surreal. For a moment, he felt on top of the world. He had the ideal life. One that might have been called enviable. But such a life leads to strings. Strings all over the place.In the middle of the night! A loud crash and bang deafening and cruel. What could have been that noise? He did not want to wake up but that beating on his

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-71911149628413867592007-05-22T11:56:00.000-07:002007-05-23T09:51:46.647-07:00

In a family of seven, if five are children then there really is a lot going on for the parents. It is all too well to say that in an agrarian society the larger the family, the better the workforce. And it was true for a long time till it became necessary for the human heart to be ambitious and want a little more.The fourth child was a daughter. She had seen the plight of the family. She realised

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1170335920164505272007-02-01T04:39:00.000-08:002007-05-04T03:09:34.030-07:00

When it comes to Tipsy, somethings are just not right. But it might be because the age difference between the two of us is so less. Just under two years. And that apparently calls for a lot of sibling rivalry. So, while Lala and Po were quick to accept the authority of yours truly in the house, Tipsy just decided to, on principle, refute, oppose, protest, cry, be hysterical and be much martyred

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1166679896430077782006-12-20T21:43:00.000-08:002006-12-20T21:44:56.443-08:00

There was a time when I used to worry about how much I owe to other people and how much other people owe me. I really hated going out for a Dutch treat and having to pay and make collections later. How is one to approach another for an amount of fifty rupees? How is one to remember to pay a small amount of fifty rupees? So it usually happened that one wrote it off or felt rather indignant

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1163597320914843812006-11-15T04:44:00.000-08:002006-11-15T05:28:41.006-08:00

A long time ago, when in school, we had moral science classes. In one of these classes, we were taught to look at the under-privileged before crying over our own lot. Therefore, if one did not have shoes, one had to look at one who did not have feet and be thankful that one had feet, albeit without shoes.I wonder now, if all this while I have been following this very doctrine, unconsciously

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1162544075498515422006-11-03T00:54:00.000-08:002006-11-03T00:54:35.513-08:00

The greatest luxury of being a bachelor is that one does not get branded as being one in an obnoxious couple. Why obnoxious, one might ask.Coupling is an art. But once two people agree they are a couple, there is no looking back or around for that matter. The entire world is seen as "us" rather than "I". I might as well emphasize for clarity that a couple is defined as "two people who have

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1157630273488901652006-09-07T04:14:00.000-07:002006-09-07T04:57:53.763-07:00

Create health with a ladle;While within the folds of a batter,The smile I cradleAnd see it emerge in a bite later.Make them tickle;With the charms of witch-craftThe salad with small emotions mickle;And see fingers twitch around the haft.Demand attention to detailOf the stew brewed with utmost care.In every stir a prayer I prevailUpon the bubbles which to surface dare.The garnish like a coronet

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1156751273357900312006-08-28T00:43:00.000-07:002006-08-28T00:47:53.366-07:00

Tipsy's SMS to Po: It's raining. Having ice-cream. Enjoying. u?Po's reply to Tipsy: It's not raining here. Still enjoying.

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1155816049817660172006-08-17T04:31:00.000-07:002006-08-17T05:00:50.240-07:00

March MadnessWhen the colour changed and life took a definition you sent the greatest hailstorm of all and became my nemesis. Not until the ice had completely melted did I realise that it might have preserved some of that sanity that is much desired but rarely to be had these days.Nevertheless, when I reopen my eyes, I wish to see an inky blue sky with nimbus clouds and a golden sun. And it must

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1153901947254095182006-07-26T00:26:00.000-07:002006-07-26T01:19:07.583-07:00

Why, I missed you today!Having walked through that doorAnd not seeing your smile.Why, I even looked to see the remnantsOf a friend who welcomed with open arms.Try I did to ignore your placeTaken now by one unlike you.Try I did to laugh and ignoreThe pain you might have gone through.But I only tried while you suffered.And knowing full well how a friend scorned a friendAnd having watched helpless,

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1152614724263916532006-07-11T01:41:00.000-07:002006-07-11T23:48:41.013-07:00

Not a True StoryNot a True Story IIIndependence is important. So important that it might be the very basis of one's existence. There is financial independence, job independence, social independence and so on. The world was full of opportunities to create more and more independence until he started feeling that there was no limit to what he could achieve.Every autumn he took a vacation in the

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1152006456496408882006-07-04T02:04:00.000-07:002006-07-04T02:47:36.516-07:00

Hidden in the shadows are many thoughts.Shielded secrets, hidden, closed.Longing in my meditations to reach the noughtsThese secrets surface, opened, exposed.Like the child yearning to be heardOr the thunder dying to explodeThe noise grows stronger and much fearedTill I from my meditation erodeI close again my wandering eyes,To a calm meadow with green grass.And no matter how much to suppress one

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1151495227310438712006-06-28T04:37:00.000-07:002006-06-28T05:54:20.303-07:00

I was on vacation these last two weeks. And I decided not to travel comfortably so I accepted the free tickets offered me by Citibank. To say the least, after angry shoutings at the customer support personnel and probing intrusively to get the PNR number from them, I still have not received the e-ticket in my email box as promised by them. But this is not about how inefficient Citibank can be. It

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1149660402696994152006-06-06T22:51:00.000-07:002006-06-07T00:13:59.406-07:00

One of the greatest things about my family is its immense capability to worry over trivial matters. And that is putting it mildly. The other great capability is to make light of the most pressing of matters and be nonchalantly blissful. It is no wonder that Lala (the third child) grew up to be the greatest hypochondriac I ever did know.I promised her that I would never write about her great

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1147695086836420612006-05-15T04:33:00.000-07:002006-05-15T05:11:26.850-07:00

The last time I ever visited this greatly sensitive area of a man's life was in 1991 when in Standard VI, Mrs. Jenneth Lyngdoh made us all keep a little book of Dos and Don'ts for gentlemen. And this I am doing purely from one of my readers saying that the last blog entry on Cheap Labour was poor because I chose to glorify and therefore exaggerate on the poor service in Bangalore restaurants

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1146733072228541962006-05-04T01:02:00.000-07:002006-05-04T01:57:52.266-07:00

We are a growing and up coming middle class. We have just been introduced to the possibility of being first time home owners and owning a car of foreign make has become a reality. Many people attribute this progress to the growth of the Indian economy and the fact that more jobs are being outsourced to India. One of the biggest factors, as everyone will tell you, is cheap labour. So, on a

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1146233859881490492006-04-28T05:52:00.000-07:002006-04-28T07:17:39.976-07:00

Tipti is a little girl. Being a little girl, she likes to play with her dolls and have make belive tea parties and wear beautiful frocks with frills and go on long walks with mother. Tipti remembered how her mother loved her and took her shopping. In the vegetable market in Shillong (called the Barabazar) she and mother would shop for spices, vegetables, dry fish and tobacco. On their way back,

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1145615489207959952006-04-21T03:04:00.000-07:002006-04-21T03:31:29.220-07:00

Last night I had a visitor. He visits often and we talk late into the night while I make a late night cup of tea. Among other things, we spoke of humanity and what it really means.For a moment I felt that I was going to get one of his many discourses on life, what it means. What I should do and not do. How things happen when they do. Basically this friend of mine is my very best friend and I just

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1144243726515128752006-04-05T06:14:00.000-07:002006-04-05T06:28:46.723-07:00

Song I had to sing in a concert once:Come into my joyCome into my painCome you be a friend of mineI'll be the same- Peace Child (David Woolcombe)Therefore I want to be a breath of fresh air, much like the one that embraces you when you step out on a dewey morning just as the sun starts rising.Then I want to take an azure form and be the elixir of life that runs through the veins of

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1142926470375820242006-03-20T23:11:00.000-08:002006-03-20T23:34:30.386-08:00

A moment in laughter.A flicker of a glint of somethingHopeful, kind and considerate;The formation of an allegiance deep.Dearest, this moment forever cherished I keep.A kind of silence.Haunting, melodious and profound;That having said nothing, I feelThe volumes we did speak.Lilting, lifting and floating;Dearest, this silence I seek.A dash of emotion.Like a hint of somethingBeyond taste, feel - the

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1141714617602459222006-03-06T22:10:00.001-08:002006-03-06T22:59:20.260-08:00

Damn that dhobi. He had to leave the clothes in 121. I cannot go and ask him now. For that, I'll have to knock at his door and talk to him. What a nuisance!I would not have shared this from my past. But then, there is a reason. Sometimes, we do not realise the effort that comes from the other person in a seemingly 'everyday' situation. We overlook it and then one fine day, we become wise enough

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1140593934223992362006-02-21T22:43:00.000-08:002006-02-28T06:20:44.006-08:00

Appreciation of beautiful things is an integral part of our lives. The fact that we look at a picture and like it because it reminds us or fits into our idea of what we consider as beautiful or should be, is in essence, our sense of aesthetics.I have had a terrible time in the past agreeing to someone else's sense of aesthetics, be it in clothes or choice of colour or decor. Till I realised that

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1139909414903099152006-02-14T01:17:00.000-08:002006-02-28T07:46:25.206-08:00

Where is it...That unfelt, unknown emotion?Is it a phenomenon or my own creation?Like a weeping willow leaning to touch the waterI too reach out for moreIn the depth of the book I am readingIn the softness of the dawn breakingIn the height of religious fervourI reach out for moreWill there ever be...The presence that provides strength.Longing, confident and paradoxically imobileI reach out for

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1138110418995139492006-01-24T04:39:00.000-08:002006-01-24T22:13:23.686-08:00

For a moment he looked at the frail body of his wife. There she lay, breathing heavily - asleep. He had sent everyone out of the room. He wanted to suffer alone with her by looking at her slip away...He took her hand in his and stroked it gently. There was a lump building in his throat but he held back with all his might. Everytime she heaved and made that deep, throaty, gurgling sound, his heart

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1135672747185916672005-12-27T00:35:00.000-08:002005-12-29T20:47:59.416-08:00

It is a wonder how the human mind finds innumerable reasons to celebrate. Take New Year's Eve for example. It is one time of the year when there is an excitement of something ending and something new beginning. Therein lies one of the oldest concepts that we so unabashedly use in our work. Particularly we mind you. The concept of a reset.So here goes.Every New Year’s Eve I look back in

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1134481036853414982005-12-13T04:47:00.000-08:002005-12-13T05:37:16.883-08:00

"So how have you been? Well I hope.""Yes. How about you?""I have been fine too. You've put on weight.""Yeah."He picked up the glass and took a sip. The winter was particularly cold. It was difficult to get out of bed in the morning. It was an atrocity to have to go for the first hour tutorials and for the bulk of the population, an act performed only under the greatest compulsion. The evenings

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1132571663499802422005-11-21T02:42:00.000-08:002005-11-25T00:05:38.286-08:00

Opened my eyes to a stillnessCalm, peaceful and placid;Till I could hear my eyes blinkMuch like skis on a skid.What noise within this quietThat stirred a sleeping mortal?What cares of disquiet?What surreptitious, creeping shadow?There I lay wondering, in the playOf light and shadow on my bedroom wall.God! There is much noise in silenceMuch chaos in order to enthrall!For amused I am as much as

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1130998342281469892005-11-02T22:10:00.000-08:002005-11-02T22:12:22.306-08:00

It is a well known fact that, over a period of time, the reason is forgotten but the tradition is maintained. And as is to be expected from a mind, distinctively capable of higher thoughts, the human progressed to greater extremes. Therefore, it is no wonder that every year, as we celebrate the greatness of good over evil, symbolized by the victory of the prince of Ayodhya over the dark lord of

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1129005964915523922005-10-10T21:32:00.000-07:002005-10-10T21:46:04.923-07:00

Following instructiions is seemingly the single most difficult thing that people have to do. People at large are locked between the "what if" and "maybe" of things. At such times one cannot but wonder if in the evolutionary cycle we are infact degenerating to a degree that we actually seem dumb. Or maybe it is a lack of discipline.Take a scene at the ATM for example. If you have ever stood in

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1126267256437295622005-09-09T04:35:00.000-07:002005-09-13T04:55:19.530-07:00

It was but just a look round the table and I was overwhelmed by my sheer lack of exercise. In not too abstract terms, it was made very clear to me that in a few years, maybe one or two, I shall forever carry a round, rotund and hopefully not too jelly-like, belly. A circle of richness round the table and I to break that circle, almost an outcast. Though I might add, I do have a great potential

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1125576524599431302005-09-01T02:13:00.000-07:002005-09-01T05:08:44.626-07:00

Don Bosco square is the hub of student activity in Shillong. Positioned at the foot of the statue of St. Don Bosco, one can see imposing hills all round. There is the hill going up to the Upper New Colony where we have the St. Mary's and St. Margaret's convents. On a busy school day, one is treated to quite a chatter as one passses by that road. Immediately touching the square is the St.

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1123594330578712402005-08-09T06:31:00.000-07:002005-08-09T06:37:40.996-07:00

I had a late lunch. But, unlike other days, there were a few people in the cafeteria. I took my place at a table. Someone said something about the traffic. I merely listened."Tick! Tick! I glanced at my watch. One and a half hour remained. I had to be there by 3:00PM.""So, what are you working on right now?", the person in front asked."Oh, waiting for the new boards to arrive. The MAC needs

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1122017129047260872005-07-22T00:24:00.000-07:002005-07-22T00:25:29.056-07:00

In the blink of an eye, the truth seemed to dawn on me. The variegated nature ofa life led so far in perfect harmony with the external world. I speak, ofcourse,about myself. But where do I start? Let me see now....let me start at thebeginning.I always thought that Indians have an uncontrolable urge to be in front.Figuratively and literally as well, if you might have observed while waiting ata

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1121085689249515092005-07-11T04:38:00.000-07:002005-07-22T00:26:32.796-07:00

Truthfully speaking, I do not know when he came and went. It was almost as if it was destined to be. I became firm friends with John Donald Hunlang Khongjee.Standard V. Khongjee gets alphabetically sorted before Koch and so his roll number was one before mine. And in the term exams, he'd sit before me. And we'd check our answers. We had a weird method of communication which only he and I could

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1118999236899578572005-06-17T02:05:00.000-07:002005-06-17T02:07:16.903-07:00

Closed the door on his faceLong he dwelt on his unhappy statePining while looking back to traceThe series of events that led to his fateAnger and dejection is what he facedLivid he was with distractionWondering why at all this run he had racedLike a rat in a bid to feed his ambitionFiner details emerged, the hints of lateUnobserved, subtle and much regrettedTill that one moment when the

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1118409882327275052005-06-10T05:14:00.000-07:002005-06-12T23:21:55.920-07:00

Oshin was waiting when I reached, half an hour late. There she sat, on the low wooden bench, her legs crossed and her head pondering over a file. She wore a scarf over her neck and her short hair fell over so that she could not see me approach. I stepped into the garden and walked towards her, choosing my excuse. I could say that the taxi got stuck in a jam or that I had to walk all he way up the

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1118139325122309602005-06-07T03:14:00.000-07:002005-06-07T03:15:25.136-07:00

Surakat and Minbiru lived in a small village by the Laisumon forest bordering the banks of the Loit-Um river. There were many villages in the area. The Tipro and Nimon tribes lived on the other side of the river, at the foothills of the imposing Painakum mountains. On their side of the river, there were the Haisuku and Minas tribes on either side of their village. The village boundaries had been

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1116921168571676522005-05-24T00:38:00.000-07:002005-05-24T00:58:24.063-07:00

It will probably come as a shock if I tell you that if there is one particular thing I really like to do when I visit my mother's village is cross a bamboo bridge. But I would not be saying that if it were not for a special kind of bridge. The "haku" is a makeshift bridge of two (and in some cases only one) bamboo tied together and supported by more bamboos from below so that there is just a

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1115108304823467942005-05-03T01:16:00.000-07:002005-05-03T01:18:24.826-07:00

Raise the evil to the threshold of greatness Let darkness prevail and envelop the greater good And consume in its realm the very essence of mankind. And then fall, deep...Awake and feel the power of Stygian gore as it proceeds to envelop the self Hold. What shines beyond? A shimmer of something I hate, The sound of the laughter of fate. The triumph of destiny and indiscretion. Purple and gold and

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1115104649959485452005-05-03T00:16:00.000-07:002005-05-03T00:57:08.046-07:00

Dodappa sat on the verandah of his house. His eyes wandered upto the lantern hanging from the slanting roof. In the dim light, one would see a pair of red eyes, tired and waiting. The faint glow was sharply reflected by the sparkle of his eyes as he sat hugging his legs and his shawl wrapped around his back. It was not cold, but he needed the shawl to keep from the menacing mosquitoes. He sat and

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1115018435277179812005-05-02T00:08:00.001-07:002005-05-02T00:20:35.276-07:00

walk away into oblivionSee how I hold on to threads unseenUntil abject discord of heart and mindCloses and makes the numbness profound.I cannot forget you and yet I cannot mournSuspended in a trance so numbThat even the best that comes my way seems insipidThe placidity of life's turbulent waters is newAnother one walks away todayAway into another oblivon for sureNumb still is the feelingI think,

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11478991.post-1110941071381346752005-03-15T18:29:00.000-08:002005-05-03T06:00:36.180-07:00

The journey began on a wet and gloomy day like this. The rain had stopped for a while and there was a fresh, washed look to the world around me. Looking out of my window I saw a misty mass of clouds cover a part of the imposing hill beyond. It was time to go for a walk.I wonder if any of you have taken a walk after a spell of rain. In Shillong, a gloomy afternoon is perfect for a stroll because

Keshab Kochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11185863680472626138noreply@blogger.com2