Beast rides!!!!!!

Feel , experience and love new cultures. Cause they add colour to your life. Keep travelling.They are worth it. Happy to do my first post on #creatorshala. #creatorshala #internshala #internship#travelling#photography#instagram

Well, starting a career following your passion is something worth it. So here's this blog dedicated to one such thing I'm fonded of and will never stop adoring. My love for food has been constantly increasing. I have been visiting many cafes and lounges, trying out various delicacies and I have found out that today's world is tending towards attaining more satisfaction in less resource of input. An example of such is spending less money and enjoying the delicious dishes. Adapting this strategy many small cafes are providing the same and the youth is welcoming it.

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It is rightly said that travelling is like food for your soul and food is literally what keep you going. The best thing about travelling and food is your travel is incomplete without food and you cannot challenge your taste buds without travelling. They compliment each other in such a way that your life is incomplete without them. The best thing about food is that you can have any cuisine at any place and the best thing about travel and food is that travel allows you to taste the authentic taste of a cuisine. Imagine travelling to Udaipur, sitting beside one of the lakes and enjoying the cultural performance with authentic dalbati churma, or you might to travelling to Lucknow and trying authentic Tunde Kebabs or you might travel to the south of India and try their special south Indian dishes which is not easily available in North India. Travel helps you to expand your horizons and food opens a new world for your taste buds.

;make peace with your broken pieces•

Hi. This is me. If you are reading this, you have made it to my blog already. Sit down. Just like I am. After a really long personal hiatus, I have taken to writing again. Mind you I ain't no professional author. I am just somebody who loves writing. Technically it's typing. But yeah, you get it. In terms of blogging, I am someone what you guys would probably call a novice. A "noob" if you may. Up until yesterday, the thought of blogging never crossed my mind. Never would I have thought I could utilize my time blogging instead of doing something else, like watching Michael Scott being insensitive on The Office, or applying to a never ending plethora of job openings on LinkedIn, Glassdoor and Monster. Or watching hours of videos that would help me prepare for MBA entrance examinations. With the Coronavirus lockdown, life had become monotonous. "Quarantine" Man, quarantine sounds way cooler than lockdown. Has a nice ring to it when you say it out loud. The media outlets made sure they used it every once in a while. Our security guard knows what quarantine means now. They call it 'quarantine' in the West. It wasn't surprising to see the evolution of just another dictionary term into a household buzzword. I have known the both the meaning of quarantine since childhood. I have also known how quarantine is done ever since I became an adult. So no lack of experience for me on that front. But this quarantine that recently was shoved down my throat by the unprecedented outbreak of some kind of respiratory virus; man quarantine was good when it was voluntary. Stuck within the four walls of your house, jobless had taken it's toll on me. Early morning T.V., afternoon lunch, evening hang outs with my brother. The routine, the same faces, the same conversations; it seemed pretty fantastic to hang out with my family after so long. But trust me I have no clue how the day goes by, how the sun just goes by to the west to set peacefully. I used to take a walk on the terrace some days ago. I used to go out precisely at 6 in the evening, because that was the perfect time to see the evening star on the horizon as the sun used to set in the west. But I have stopped going out now, since I have my classes from 6 to 8. Yeah. Mental health is indeed real, now that i think of it. Every time it struck 6, I looked forward to going up on the terrace, taking a walk and staring at the tiny little bright dot in the sky that was so oblivious to the life we have on this planet. The beauty of the sky, strokes of crimson hue in the west segue into the dark blue of the sky. I don't even know what you call the colour of the space where the red and the blue meet, although my 8-year old brother insists it is violet. Ha! Conformist. The more I stared at Venus and let my imagination run wild, the more I could relate to it. The more I perceived it as a person, rather than a giant ball of rock and gases. Venus is the second planet in our solar system and one of the most prominent objects in the evening/morning sky. Yet, it must feel out of place among everybody else in the sky, because it is a planet. Now I don't personally know the pecking order among the celestial bodies, but it must suck to be the the odd one out. And a beautiful odd at that, with no present to see you. A solitary planet, shining in her brightest outfit, arriving too early at the prom meant only for stars. It's a pity that the other stars are not there to see how beautiful she looks, how the entire sky livens up when just a small shiny dot like her soars across the west evening sky. The other stars haven't arrived yet. She probably thinks she's isn't welcome because she is the only present. I took solace in the fact that I saw her as she was, in all her beauty. I befriended her because like her, I felt out of place in the lockdown too. Like I said, it's cool to hang out with your parents. But my father was recently posted to Rajahmundry. I flew in from Ahmedabad just a few hours before Prime Minister Narendra Modi declared a nationwide lockdown. I was stuck. My mind was still in Ahmedabad, where I spent four years of my life in college. I didn't want to be trapped in a place where I didn't know people, or didn't speak their language, or even eat the staple food they ate. I felt I was stuck in the wrong place, where I don't belong. "...you float like a feather, in a beautiful world. I wish I was special... You're so fucking special..." Creep: Radiohead was playing on my earphones one evening as I looked out into the gloomy town from my terrace. A middle-aged woman was hanging her clothes on the line on top of the adjacent building. Children were playing and chasing each other around. Men sat on their chairs reading papers or just on their phones. A few two-wheelers zoomed around in our street. Dogs lay on the road, resting. A kilometre or two away, I could see the bridge across the Godavari river stretch itself to the feet of the sun setting in the west. It seemed the entire world around me had shifted it's existence on to the next level. Literally. I felt the soft evening breeze touch my face, soothing the stress, drawing it out through the sweat beads that formed around my brows and nose due to walking from 10 minutes ago. I was standing at the railing, and brooding over the city I was having a difficult time calling mine. The elevator room growled from the inside as the lift operated within the building. Bats flew overhead. After a few minutes, it was nearly dark and the last traces of scarlet started disappearing. Venus still lingered around. I heard the evening Aarti at some house nearby. The azaan from the mosque down the street sounded too. I took a seat on the only plastic chair on the terrace. I occasionally do that to sit down and scroll through my Whatsapp and Instagram. It is my resting period from the walking routine. I hear this knock on the door. At first, I looked at my Instagram feed and checked if it was some video that played while I was scrolling. But my phone was on Homepage. I heard two brief knocks again. The sound of the those knocks resonated perfectly through the air into my ear. The clothes hung on the line were convulsing and twisting and turning due to the strong breeze that flew. I was perfectly aware I was the only person on the terrace at that hour. No one else comes by at this hour, because it's either dinnertime for most families, or they are airing Mahabharat on TV. I was alone. I wanted to figure out where did the knocks actually come from. But I dismissed it as a figment of my imagination. I must have been mistaken. Could be a knock on the adjacent building too. Or somebody might be repairing his door downstairs. Maybe someb-- ""Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!!!" Oh, man. My gut did a number as I realized the knocks came from inside of the elevator room. The scary part; it was locked from the outside. There was absolutely no way there could be anybody trapped in there. No one was allowed to go in. except the technicians when the lift would need some maintenance. But even then, the technicians always came during the day. Who the fuck was knocking from the inside? The knocking became more frequent as I walked towards the door of the elevator room. With each step, I could hear the knocking more clearly. It wasn't the courteous knocking that you do when you ask permission to enter somebody's office. It was the knocking - borderline banging- that seemed like a desperate attempt from something inside wanting to get out. Something wanted to get out. And it sensed me approaching it. With every step my breathing deepened. With every step the knocking became more eager. With every step, I lost my reasoning little by little, walking towards an unknown and imminent danger. "This is a bad idea." I thought to myself. "But what if it is actually somebody trapped inside?" I could be of help to somebody. I reached the elevator room door. Just as I curled my hand and gave a gentle thud on the door with my knucles, my heart skipped a beat. My gut wrenched as the thing inside started banging the door violently. It knew I was there. "Bang! Thud! Bang!!" Momentarily scared, I took a step back. The butterflies in my stomach chose an awful time to fly around. I was shit scared. I lied about the momentary scare earlier. It sunk in. Something wasn't right. The thing inside could hurt me. It was evil. And-- I felt a tap on my right shoulder. I look around in panic. Nobody there. Still me and the clothes trying to fly way from the clothesline but held together with clips. A bat flew overhead. New moon. I looked back at the door. It was open. My nerves fired up and adrenaline rushed into my blood. Imagine my dread being realized. From a few feet away, I could see the room inside was dark. Pitch black. So dark that even if somebody was standing there, they could hide in plain sight. I stared into the dark emptiness inside the door. I looked for any hint of anything or anyone that might be in there. And then all of a sudden, a man flew out of the door. He dashed at me with the blade shining in his hand. Before I could see his face or take a mental picture of his features, he swung his scythe at me. In an instant he was gone and I could feel myself falling down to the ground. "Thud" He was hovering over me. His scythe in his hand. It became dark as my eyes shut. I lost consciousness. "But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here.... I don't belong here... I don't belong here." My eyes opened. I was standing over the railing, looking out into the sunset with my earphones on. Radiohead played. The middle-aged woman was still there, hanging her clothes on the line. Children were playing and chasing each other around. Men sat on their chairs. A few two-wheelers zoomed around in our street. Dogs lay on the road, resting. In the distance, the sun setting just beside the Godavari bridge. Venus was there. Smiling. "I don't belong here..." https://aayushmaanmazoomdar.blogspot.com/2020/04/hi.html

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Travel diaries

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