Month: April 2014


I did not change my title. I am pretty content with it as I spent a pretty long time contemplating on the right title.I did change my tagline though, as there was none before.So let this post be about the thought process that went into choosing this title.

Why did I choose this title???? Cos at present I have no idea as to how this blog will look a couple of months down the line. The kind of content I publish on it, I will decide on that as time takes its course. At present I am very happy writing about whatever it is that I feel like writing.Anything that catches my eye comes out in the form of a post on this blog.

For me this is my ‘little space on the internet'(I saw this line in somebody’s comment somewhere, can’t remember who though).My space where I live whichever way I see fit.

I have so many interests, so many hobbies that it is just next to impossible to write about anything in particular. I am a die hard fan of anything that moves on 2 wheels, I love travelling- glad to say my profession has compensated me on that front quite well, reading,running,swimming. Though trying to cut down on excess fat, I love eating.The adventurist within is always aching to try anything new.

The fact is I get bored very easily with the monotony of life. The monotony of doing the same thing over and over again drives me nuts.I like having an opinion about everything and if I don’t then I find out and make an opinion then.

I work for about 8 months every year in batches,7 days a weeks,being on call 24 hrs a day and the close to 4 months that I do get to spend at home, I spend them doing just about anything that pops into my head.

I like being ‘the jack of all trades’, throwing in a little bit of my hard earned wisdom into any conversation that I see myself fit to be a part of.


As for the updated tagline-well that’s something I’d like to leave for a post later down the line.



I am your shadow,

Wherever you go I always follow.

When you are away,

There is nothing else for me to do.

I cannot go out alone.

For I am too small, the others,too big.

They laugh!!

I bark at them,

Furious I tell them-wait till my brother gets back.

Attached is a picture of Oren. He is a brave little thing but only when me or my father are around.Otherwise you can very well call him a mouse.He’s been with us for more than 2 years now and it’s been nothing but a pleasure to have him.WP_20140411_15_49_57_Pro


The fifty shows how gets scared by anything even slightly bigger than him (yes, plants included) and the brother being referred t is offcourse ME.

This also happens to be my first ‘fifty’.It might be shit but I do hope atleast the pic is worth your time spent reading this.





Hey guys!!!My name is Vikas Reddy. I started blogging about a month and a half back. I used to blog under a pseudonym before but after having mustered enough courage and on the back of some constant bickering by a friend, I finally started blogging under my name.

By trade I am a marine engineer.At present am at home on my well deserved leave for the next few months and hence I decided to use this time to do something constructive and build my blog.I started blogging with the sole purpose of trying to become a better writer and storyteller. I do hope to get published someday.God knows what the content of that book might be though but then that’s what wordpress is for-to experiment with your writing and storytelling abilities till you attain perfection.

Everything in this world takes it’s own sweet time to grow.And the same thing is applicable to my blog.Just like parents raise their kids and hope to be proud of them someday, I hope that sometime down the line, my blog has enough creative content to fill me with the same pride. That’s precisely the reason why I blog. Maintaining a journal offcourse gets you into the habit of writing on a regular basis but it is hard to get the kind of inputs that you can expect from the blogging world.

Blogging not only gives me the opportunity to read pieces published by somebody sitting in the other corner of the world but also the tools to connect to with like minded people. I am yet to receive some criticism about my writing abilities though but would love to receive them as I start connecting and bonding with the enormous blogging community of wordpress.

If I can think about where I would a year hence with my blog,then I would like to look at myself with some really fascinating and creative pieces that any publisher would give his right arm to publish but more importantly having developed the skill set to tell an ordinary story into extraordinary tale.

As I recently read on the blog of the ‘Bookgirl’-so much to read and so little time. I do hope to read as much as possible and no better place than a blogging community and guess what- It’s free!!!!


I was going through this post the other day on which highlighted the difference between a story teller and a writer and how difficult it is for people to master both.People more often than not settle for the one they can find their niche in. It made me think about which one of the two I would like to find my niche in, if i can’t do so in both.

When I think about writers, the images that come to my mind are of people at par with William Shakespeare, sitting at a river bank somewhere composing ballads or poems. People with above average intelligence are most likely the ones who end up understanding and then enjoying them.The ability to exercise expertise on your chosen language and making it into a craft is probably best left to scholars.

Storytelling on the other hand is the lesser qualified and more glorified cousin of writing. A craft that needs no education and no experience.With only imagination and the creativity of your mind, a story not worth telling becomes a story worth sharing.In contrast to writing, a story can be told in whichever way the author sees fit and in whichever language he feels like sharing.There are no binding rules.A decent command over the language in which the story is written together with a well thought out plot is all that the author needs to make sure his audience finds him instead of him looking for them.

But then for some,the select few, both the eloquence of the language they write in together with their storytelling abilities, go hand in hand. A trade mastered after years and years of practice( and of failing) and patience.

So which one of the two would I like to be????If I can’t master both(though I try), then I will any day settle to be a story teller instead of a writer. Like everything else in the world, practice and patience are key elements in this art as well.

Stories can be found in anything people do.One doesn’t have to be an actor or a sport star to make their stories connect with people. But what they do need is a well though out plot which again requires experience. The same experience which comes out of churning really bad (and at times pathetic) posts which are masterpieces to nobody else but you.

So here is to some really pathetic posts, pieces of fiction and the infinite number of brain rants which I hope to use as my launchpad in my endeavour to find my niche in storytelling. And if good enough, to becoming a better writer as well.


You can have ev…

You can have everything in the world that you want…..but one thing at a time

Rome was not built in a day.All the empires in the world were built on the back of one man who rose through the ranks and became a general.A general who laid the foundation for his future empire on the back of a small village.And that small village was on the back of tireless effort, patience, an insurmountable quantum of courage and above all TIME.

Lets take a look at the corollary.What if everything you wanted was given to you the same day???What if whatever you desired, you find materialized when you get up????What else is left in your life to do then????. What else do you have to work for????You might as well hit it off for the Himalayas and become a monk.

I am sure, if you take sometime off to consider the above, you would much rather prefer to slog it out day after day, getting one thing at a time instead.

Getting everything at once only happens to the extremely lucky who win the lottery, who more often than not squander it by getting too cocky.I personally don’t believe in lotteries and I sure as hell don’t want everything at once. I don’t want myself robbed of all the different experiences that I’ll encounter on the way to everything I want.


a sunday morning, a hot cup of coffee and this post…exactly what i needed to kick start my day…

Cristian Mihai

I was talking to a friend the other day and he said that the best advice he ever got about heartbreaks went something like this: “Whenever you feel like crying over a girl, remember that others have lost empires. Half of Europe, stuff like that.”

Of course, there’s a problem of perspective here, because we’ll never know if those who did lose empires didn’t actually cry more over the lost of a woman, of a child, or something else, much more elusive in nature.

Actually, we all build our empires.

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11th July 2004. My first day at college. Born down south, raised up north and then back again to southern India for my engineering. Little did I expect the kind of shock that I was in for. Commencement of the batch was delayed by a fortnight and almost everybody else of the 96 strong class had received intimation letters about the delay. Except the 7 of us from Delhi. So there we were, at the hostel of an all guy’s college. After much deliberation amongst all of us whether to go back or to stay put, we all decided to stay.

I remember being extremely anxious during the first few days away and why shouldn’t I have been. First time being away from home, travelling in a local bus instead of a chauffeur driven car at home, from having my own room to bunking with 3 other people in the same room, the anxiety of a new city, language barriers,I was finally on my own. To top it all off, looking for a way to escape being ragged. All things you would gladly associate with a brat.

The first few days were tough.Not being allowed to leave the premises except on sundays, getting up early for p.t and parade and then trying to find a way to be invisible.’You don’t like the food??Then go hungry for all we care but you’re still not going out’.Why couldn’t I just find a different college to be in and end my misery???

We were entertainment for the 1000 strong community of the college.Everybody looking for a way to kill time instead of being buried in books and who better than us. Why not scare the new guy????Had we joined with the others, it would have been easier for us to be a face in the crowd but we did not. We chose to be heroes and be brave.

Exam fever was at it’s peak for the senior most batch then and as and when people took a break, off they were in search of us.We tried our best to avoid communication for as long as possible. But we soon ran out of room to hide and were promptly summoned into a room full of more than 20 odd people(all of them taking a break at the same time only for us) which would normally not accomodate more than 6. It was amazing to see that they preferred to squeeze into one part of the room, leaving the other half entirely for us.The open space given to us was a sort of a taunt and a prelude to what was to come.To them we were fresh meat.

Their were voices from every corner of the other half and it was impossible for us to identify the source.One by one we gave our intros.It was their way of sorting out the sissies and people to pick on later.The intros over, now time for some showmanship. I thought it prudent to go along and play along instead of trying to be a hero and throw attitude.And man,did we put up a show.All of us!!! From being pole dancers to actors, from singing to being choir boys, we did everything to perfection,cracking jokes and pulling off stunts which only they found amusing. Before the end of the next day, the 7 of us were famous.We even had a few guardian angels looking over us to make sure we were not hassled, who somehow always managed to vanish just when their 7 damsels needed rescuing.

I remember singing songs in languages I never knew existed, being a pole dancer to a gymnast, from displaying my acting abilities to doing push ups on the wrong side of hundred.

We could see people trying their best and looking for a chance to be the high and mighty in front of us. But all of them knew we weren’t going anywhere and they’ll get their chance sooner rather than later.What was that line in ‘The dark knight rises’- the slow knife cuts the deepest.

Sophomores turned second years, were the most difficult to deal with though.They knew entering into the senior most block will only end to our advantage. That block was our refuge and the second years were ever lurking in the shadows( dramatic but no fun otherwise and quite literally in some cases) for us to step out of it. They were the bulls trying to prove their might over seven helpless puppies, their ragging sessions still fresh in their minds and were more than eager to pay it forward.The people who were more than happy volunteers during our recruitment were now our tormentors.

But deal with them we did and in the course of time, a few even turned out to be pretty good friends. By the time the batch commenced, we were sitting pretty at the top of the food chain. We watched while others from my class went through the same grind of anxious intros and muscle flexing sessions. Saw more than a few cry babies who wept at the first hint of being asked a question.Our ragging was done and dusted and they were fresh off the boat, a few even approaching me to maybe put in a kind word and get them off the hook which inevitably ended with another acting session for me.

The people who nobody liked were given the tedious assignments of completing the year end projects, while the ones who were smart stayed below the radar and avoided being spotted. The first few weeks were chaos for everyone except us and I certainly enjoyed the spot where I was left alone and others were not.

I remember being mistaken for a second yr once(I was prompt enough to take advantage of the situation though) and at times I was in the senior block ragging my own batch mates, something that was not taken too lightly when my roomies found out.

The initiation was over and life soon got back to normal after a while but the first 2 weeks back there still bring a smile whenever I think of it. Memories of a time well lived.

And before the year was out, it was time for us to be lions and wait for our prey.