tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216909962024-03-13T16:19:50.102+05:30KEYS TO IMAGINATIONSEvery single aspect of this world is moulded to shape by individual imaginations. The way I see this world depends on my imaginations and the way you see depends on your imaginations.Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.comBlogger397125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-19231162389106739642020-05-12T01:43:00.003+05:302020-05-12T01:43:59.000+05:30TRAVEL BLOG<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So...came up with a travel blog...here is the link...<div>
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<a href="http://www.milesandexperiences.blogspot.com/">www.milesandexperiences.blogspot.com</a></div>
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Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-11225602936303811762019-02-08T17:20:00.000+05:302019-02-08T17:20:36.105+05:30Around the Pillar...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So finally
after twenty one years, I visited the small, obscure village (by the name Gedama),
whose name sounds alien to most people even within Odisha. I still wonder why
it took me so long to visit the place which I longed to visit during every
holiday that childhood had offered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the door opened, out rushed a flurry of the
lost moments…the earliest life memories… which had got somewhere distanced into
a dormant pool of untapped thoughts<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">….a lone
little three year old….probably his earliest memories…listening
stories from his Mama (maternal grandmother) and waiting for his Aja (maternal
grandfather) to return back home with a packet of gems…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And thirty five years in between</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">….a <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>four <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>year old wrapping his hands around the round pillar, which supported the roof above, and
unsuccessfully trying desperately to make the tip of fingers of both hands
touch….a two <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>year old closely observing
the activity with big, bold eyes with a red color toy in his hands….. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And thirty four years in between<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…a six year
old, a four year old and two new babies…all busy displaying their respective
chores around the pillar…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And thirty one years
in between</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…a ten year
old, an eight year old and two four year olds...being fed their respective
delicacies prepared so lovingly by their grandparents…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And twenty eight years in between</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…a fourteen
year old, a twelve year old, two eight year olds and a new baby….but probably
the magic of the village was beginning to wane for each one of us and the duration of our stays reduced from weeks to days...<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And twenty four years in between<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">..a
seventeen year old, a fifteen year old, two eleven year olds and a three year
old attended the last wedding of the generation for one day and one night and with that ended the magical
journeys of childhood….<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And twenty one
years in between<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Flashes of a
hundred such images…each trying to claim their respective dominant moods of
childhood…the paddy fields where we muddled and danced and jumped…the train station
where we were taken to by our Grandfather to enjoy the view of the coal powered
trains, the Pooja room where we all were taken to recite the evening chants,
the red suitcase which always made us wonder what secrets it stored within, the terrace
where we all gathered to count the infinite stars and later identify the known
constellations, the guava and chickoo trees who played with us as we all grew together…the people
who once existed and whose voices took us to the land of fairies and angels….and
the anguish and tears which reached out once again as I was not present around
the pillar on the last journey of my Aja…</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Moments metamorphose to memories….memories
live within us….so in a way the moments live within us….only to be enlivened
with age. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I was
lost within myself, I saw my four year old son trying to wrap his hands around
the pillar. He tried hard but there was a good few inches gap between the reaches of the fingers. I tried to live the reflexive smile…A smile which was just a
physical manifestation of the memories of moments which took place in
and around the pillar….<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-61874862061200672322018-12-23T00:39:00.000+05:302018-12-23T00:39:45.157+05:30EXISTENCE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Do we have an existence beyond our bodies, social identities and thoughts?...while we are alive?<br />
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If yes, is it possible to connect with that level of existence?</div>
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Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-52598461675579648982013-05-30T15:20:00.000+05:302013-06-28T12:16:56.854+05:30A DECADE <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black;">Experience helps….mostly to understand people….moments collected exploring different cultures and different countries form the most prized possession of my decade old existence in the professional world…</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Different countries, different languages, different cultures…same people…</span></div>
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<em><span style="color: black;">…Angola…Austria…Brazil…Belgium…China…France…Gabon…Ghana...Germany…Japan…India…Italy…Liechtenstein…Netherlands…South Africa…South Korea…Spain…Sri Lanka…Switzerland…Thailand…United Arab Emirates…United Kingdom…Vatican...</span></em></div>
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span><span style="color: black;">Hope to increase the list with time...</span><br />
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Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-55553996494094009022013-05-29T15:29:00.001+05:302013-05-29T15:29:56.862+05:30THE SKY FROM ILHA DE LUANDA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CvAn-YgIgfE/UaXQpRUuKxI/AAAAAAAAAXc/oln_8oh0QUo/s1600/DSC02612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CvAn-YgIgfE/UaXQpRUuKxI/AAAAAAAAAXc/oln_8oh0QUo/s320/DSC02612.JPG" width="320" yya="true" /></a></div>
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<em>Sun setting into the Atlantic...sometimes feel the sky is the most magical part of God's creation...</em></div>
Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-23750033201023784392013-05-29T14:36:00.000+05:302013-05-29T14:47:21.680+05:30ALTANTIC FROM THE OTHER SIDE....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jz-YqyXH6Ns/UaXEcswNFgI/AAAAAAAAAWk/svmbAGUuFkA/s1600/DSC02580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jz-YqyXH6Ns/UaXEcswNFgI/AAAAAAAAAWk/svmbAGUuFkA/s320/DSC02580.JPG" width="320" yya="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Luanda, Angola.....</td></tr>
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Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-1398306774438515322012-09-04T16:12:00.003+05:302013-05-29T15:31:11.220+05:30LINKS TO THE BOOK<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText">E-Book<br />This is the direct link to Kindle edition (MOBI)<br /><a href="http://www.dogearsetc.com/book_details.jsp?resourceID=35637" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.dogearsetc.com/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>book_details.jsp?resourceID<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>=35637</a><br /><br />This is the direct link to EPUB edition for PCs/laptops etc.</span><br />
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.dogearsetc.com%2Fbook_details.jsp%3FresourceID%3D35633&h=-AQHMuais&s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.dogearsetc.com/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>book_details.jsp?resourceID<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break"></span>=35633</a></span><br />
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Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-54115620916421755652012-08-25T12:57:00.003+05:302012-08-25T15:45:10.076+05:30FINALLY....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ExyU8QBKqO4/UDh-QnNUpuI/AAAAAAAAAWM/16HpGuD9S3s/s1600/196778_518577688159449_249104041_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ExyU8QBKqO4/UDh-QnNUpuI/AAAAAAAAAWM/16HpGuD9S3s/s400/196778_518577688159449_249104041_n.jpg" width="400" yda="true" /></a></div>
Finally..."45 YEARS AND 1 NIGHT" is ready</div>
Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-3771201091672315822012-03-13T18:45:00.003+05:302012-03-13T18:51:35.274+05:30BEGINNING IS THE TOUGHEST<div align="justify">One of the must-dos of my life is to write a book and publish it. </div><br /><div align="justify">One day, probably a year back while discussing with EM, decided to start writing about a topic. It took me one year just to get the skeleton of the theme ready. About 70 pages of rambling thoughts in one doc file. </div><br /><div align="justify">I know the real effort commences from here on. But, the feeling of playing with this word file is so satisfying...</div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-2840313271004897152011-12-17T05:33:00.002+05:302011-12-17T05:38:52.583+05:30A SUNSET TO REMEMBER<div align="justify"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t1pX__8sYNE/TuvchIMJjwI/AAAAAAAAAWE/MovxguOHdNA/s1600/DSC02276.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686881416177618690" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t1pX__8sYNE/TuvchIMJjwI/AAAAAAAAAWE/MovxguOHdNA/s320/DSC02276.JPG" /></a> <span style="color:#000000;">One of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen....over the Atlantic Ocean.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">(Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro)</span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-86828791901592820752011-12-12T16:21:00.004+05:302011-12-12T16:26:20.450+05:30SUGAR LOAF TO CORCOVADO<div align="justify"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MXZGQFJSfh4/TuXc4k-4cKI/AAAAAAAAAV4/0SDX_jXR4is/s1600/DSC02097.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685192969183326370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MXZGQFJSfh4/TuXc4k-4cKI/AAAAAAAAAV4/0SDX_jXR4is/s320/DSC02097.JPG" /></a> <span style="color:#000000;">The hill chain of Rio starting from Sugar loaf on the left to Corcovado on the right...<br /></div></span><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">(On a evening from Niteroi)</span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-23601885999294919832011-12-04T02:41:00.004+05:302011-12-04T02:52:55.176+05:30THE COUNTRY OF PAULO COELHO<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Work and profession pulled me to Brazil. Since the last few days, I have been through Sao Paulo, walked through the streets of Rio de Janeiro, visited potential business partners in these hubs of Brazil, travelled through Niteroi appreciated the beauty of the Sugar Loaf and Corcovado mountains and have seen Ipanema and Copacabana amongst other places. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">These are incidentally the names of some of the places which my favorite author Paulo Coelho frequently mentions in his books while describing Brazil, his home country. Feel like reopening those classics again and start reading especially after this experience. </span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-51877883743809425762011-12-02T22:10:00.003+05:302011-12-02T22:25:55.161+05:30SUN IN THE CLOUDS<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vI8GnOvQSpI/Ttj__N7dLzI/AAAAAAAAAVs/_mF-ANrxOQA/s1600/DSC01801.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681572391463759666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vI8GnOvQSpI/Ttj__N7dLzI/AAAAAAAAAVs/_mF-ANrxOQA/s320/DSC01801.jpg" /></a>Sun and the clouds playing with each other on the top of Corcovado in Rio. Loved the way sun acts as an halo to the hazily visible Cristo.Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-61074939531770932122011-12-02T21:55:00.002+05:302011-12-02T22:02:42.369+05:30RIVER OF JANUARY<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Currently, tens of thousands of miles away from near and dear ones, in a city whose English translation is River of January, I rediscover the magic India has...</span></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-9180233270655369782011-11-15T13:23:00.002+05:302011-11-15T13:32:23.299+05:30BUDDHA<div align="justify"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELtLllft8cI/TsIay_Uot5I/AAAAAAAAAVg/WBNLs3hPu78/s1600/DSC00960.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675127943734015890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ELtLllft8cI/TsIay_Uot5I/AAAAAAAAAVg/WBNLs3hPu78/s320/DSC00960.JPG" /></a><span style="color:#000000;"> Difficult to believe a rock taking such an articulate pose of the meditating Buddha. That too on the top of Swiss Alps.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><em>(Top of Mt. Titlis, Swiss Alps)</em>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-65462570211036696242011-11-15T13:12:00.002+05:302011-11-15T13:19:00.821+05:30ALEPH<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-99T71CuxhO8/TsIYA6XjU_I/AAAAAAAAAVU/yYy9FjZF0xk/s1600/pc.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 122px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 169px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675124884387353586" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-99T71CuxhO8/TsIYA6XjU_I/AAAAAAAAAVU/yYy9FjZF0xk/s320/pc.bmp" /></a> <br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: white" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; COLOR: #242424; FONT-SIZE: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><em>“…..letting himself be guided by signs, he travelled to various continents – Europe, Africa and Asia – on a journey through time and space, through past and present, in search of himself.”<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></em></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: white" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; COLOR: #242424; FONT-SIZE: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><o:p><em></em></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: white" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 9pt">I have developed a new fascination about this topic of time and space converging and surprisingly the books I am picking up randomly to read these days are also based on this theme. First the “Power of Now” and now “Aleph”.</span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: white" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 9pt"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: white" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 9pt">In the beginning, Paulo Coelho reveals his frustration due to a crisis of faith he finds himself in. Typical Paulo Coelho, he once again uses extensive travel for the purpose of self discovery and in the process of reconnection with the universe. The medium of transport, this time, is the Trans Siberian rail across Europe and Asia from Moscow to Vladivostok. </span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; COLOR: #242424; FONT-SIZE: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'">The book is about the author’s experiences during Trans Siberian train journey he took with his publishers and a girl whom he meets in the journey. This girl had shared a mysterical and mystical relationship with the author in one of their previous lives and the whole theme of the book revolved around Paulo Coelho and this girl.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: white" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; COLOR: #242424; FONT-SIZE: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 9pt">This book uses the concept of reincarnation as the guiding philosophy. Like every other Paulo Coelho book, this is also about signs, omens, love and forgiveness with a sense of beauty of expression.</span></p>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-2476042782858354042011-11-05T20:28:00.004+05:302011-11-05T20:36:24.394+05:30THE POWER OF NOW<div align="justify"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3xYYJzOw61U/TrVPxs9l1II/AAAAAAAAAVI/UKZ3E-DC12s/s1600/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671527021044683906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 52px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 80px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3xYYJzOw61U/TrVPxs9l1II/AAAAAAAAAVI/UKZ3E-DC12s/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#000000;">A few months ago, I completed reading “The Power of Now” by Echarte Tolle. I spent almost a couple of months with this book trying my best to grasp the essence of the book. I am not the best person to comment on books of such genre.</span><span style="color:#000000;"></div><br /><div align="justify">Even though I am not successful in practicing what is presented in this book, yet it is intriguing to think about these concepts and practices. Extensive words like self, ego, deeper presence, separation, resistance, inner body, acceptance, surrender, infinity, eternity etc. might give the book an esoteric look. But as far as I understood, it’s a book on meditation techniques and meditation by its very nature stresses on the concept of “now”. The techniques are way beyond my levels of understanding. But one thing I can safely claim is that I am better off reading this book. </div><br /><div align="justify">A line from the book:<br /><em>"am I one or two? If I cannot live with myself, there must be two of me: the 'I' and the 'self' that 'I' cannot live with”<br /></em>One more:<br />"<em>Feel (your body) from within. Is it alive? Is there life in your hands, arms, legs, and feet? … Keep focusing on the feeling … Do not start to think about it. Feel it … Perhaps there is just a slight tingling in your hands or feet … the more attention you give it, the clearer and stronger it will become”.</em></div><br /><div align="justify">If you think such lines and concepts appeal to you, then you will love this book. Even if it doesnot, no harm in trying to learn something new for good.</span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-57246735557375671062011-11-04T16:26:00.002+05:302011-11-04T16:32:57.439+05:30WORKPLACE<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KpwyTESGpDA/TrPFQWZs9DI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VOtaon0iV7c/s1600/DSC00652.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671093240471548978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KpwyTESGpDA/TrPFQWZs9DI/AAAAAAAAAUw/VOtaon0iV7c/s320/DSC00652.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Was wondering how the employees of the office (in the photograph) must be feeling to walk into the office through the clouds. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><em>(Swarovski Office under the Austrian, Alps)</em></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-76942565900117299192011-11-04T15:54:00.009+05:302011-11-04T16:12:11.464+05:30AGE<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">There were times in the past when I had neglected my blog. But never before had I reached a situation wherein I have to search the links for a while to post a mail. With just one post this year, I realise that the most important reason in plain, simple laziness.</span> </div><br /><div align="justify">A<span style="color:#000000;">fter a long time, I was reading my blog, especially the early posts penned down in 2006. Was wondering if it was I who wrote the posts. Age is a tricky stuff. An individual can always be defined as a function of his age. I remember in mathematics we define functions as f(x) where f(x) is a function of x and is dependent on x for its nature.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Similarly Sabya(x) is a variable function where x is the possible age. May be its not that easy to define Sabya as a function of x. It can be a function of many other things. But as in mathematics, simplicity is used to ellucidate facts.</span> </div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Sabya(31) is so different now (while writing this post currently)....from Sabya (26)(when the blog commenced). I am myself surprised.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-71093465690556941312011-05-17T10:15:00.002+05:302011-05-17T10:35:18.306+05:30ONCE AGAIN<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Last Saturday, I spent a day on a ship introducing her to one of her potential clients. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">There was a time when I used to spend more time shuttling from one ship to another trying to understand her technicalities…. Trying to understand the giant machines, the beautiful hull forms, the frothy wake, enjoying the gentle roll of a beautiful day and tolerating the harshness during rough weather…</span></div><span style="color:#000000;"><br /><div align="justify">These days I visit ships occasionally and even when I do it’s for different reasons. Now, my first priority is my job is to ensure if the ship is employed….if the client is happy with the vessel…and if the revenues are good enough to beat the budgets.I moved out of the ship in a few hours…the client was happy…</div><br /><div align="justify">As I watched the vessel distancing her on my way back from the anchorage to the jetty, I once again realised how life has changed after MBA. Once again, I realized the very purpose of business. </span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-77013243599652804032010-09-27T18:08:00.001+05:302010-09-27T18:09:38.820+05:30ABOUT MARKETING ???<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><p align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">I thought (and still think) that “Dabaang” has all the necessary ingredients that goes to the making of a B grade Indian movie. Yet it is one of the biggest all time hits of the country. Keeps me thinking….is it all about marketing???</span></p><p align="justify"><br /><span style="color:#000000;">…Or am I not able to appreciate stuff which others perceive “interesting”.</span></p>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-63542981187324425002010-09-27T15:46:00.001+05:302010-09-27T15:47:45.862+05:30HOPE<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><p align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">With due respect to the sentiments of the people who were busy celebrating the Ganesh immersion celebrations on the already choked roads of Mumbai, I keep thinking about the patient who was inside the screeching ambulance. The ambulance searched for avenues to beat the choked roads already blocked by the celebrating devotees and the mighty Ganesh idols, but met with little success. The blowing siren and the flickering light on the top of the ambulance turned out to be absolutely helpless. </span></p><p align="justify"><br /><span style="color:#000000;">I keep thinking about the unknown patient who was inside that ambulance on the day of Ganesh immersion. Did the Lord ensure that he survived? I hope so…</span></p>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-60297498719371700912010-09-20T20:13:00.004+05:302010-09-20T20:18:44.607+05:30EVIL MONEY<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Why do we earn money? Is it to make our life more comfortable? If that were the case, then people won’t be striving hard in their offices working late into the night neglecting their own lives, their own health, their own families….</span></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Whats the point in earning excess money if this doesnot translate to personal happiness and professional satifaction? </span></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"><em>(With reference to life of an investment banker)</em></span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-10035296953414880732010-09-08T19:30:00.000+05:302010-09-08T19:31:05.000+05:30GRATITUDE<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><p align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">I have rarely seen gratitude to the extent I saw that night when I handed over a 100 rupees note to a taxi driver who dropped me home. The meter showed around 30 rupees less and the driver searched his pocket to pay me back the change. I said him to keep the change and moved out. </span></p><p align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">The driver looked as if he had never been happy in his life. He had a face which probably never experienced the happiness to smile. </span></p><p align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">But as he was steering his taxi back, he waved at me and thanked me. I could feel it in his voice…the sense of thankfulness. Difficult to believe the worth of thirty rupees sometimes. </span></p>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21690996.post-43370204787107789842010-09-08T19:08:00.001+05:302010-09-08T19:12:55.511+05:30EARNINGS AND HAPPINESS<div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">Read something interesting today:</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;">There is an optimal salary level where people are the happiest. Earning lower than the optimal earnings make people unhappy. Earnings if more than the optimal range can also wipe out the happiness that is experienced by the people who are in the optimal salary level. </span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Just wondering how far this is true…<br /></span></div>Sabyasachihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09316713936518928163noreply@blogger.com0