All in a Day's Work

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 5; the fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Its hurting...and its insane...
But with what did it begin...

A lot of things happened with me today. A lot of things from the past did reveal themselves back today. I think there was some exhibition of the past memories of mine, but why did this happen...and that too today.
With all those memories flying around flashbacks started somewhere and it ended somewhere and in all this mess something did hurt me.
Where did this hurting start from...Did it 'from the betrayal of the friend whom i helped from all my heart.' or did it come 'from the pain of the friend i shared in the past reveal itself again.' or 'the pain of something yet to come..'or 'the pain of some natural expectations i had from someone' or 'did it began from somewhere new..' Where did this pain come from. Why had this had to happen today in this carnival of past memories. Why cant that one coward memory present itself as single one. Then I will let that memory know who is stronger. Hurting me in the back with a disguised appearance. Well friend you might have won the round but the fight is still on and the day i find you alone it will be a happy end to the poor memory...

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

P.S- This is An Extract From My Dairy...Sorry it does not contain details...maybe the post wont qualify for the TON...But Still I Had to Post This...SORRY...

-Nickhil Patokar

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What Am I ???

  What am I ? A well where everyone can drop their sorrows? What am I a place where you can get free advices ! What am I your friend when you know you need one?  What am I a enemy sometimes to show you  thats not you. What am I a pillow where everyone can rest their heads and cry. What am I a punching bag where everyone can test on their punches. What am I a place where you can experiment with everything you can. What am i a person who will understand others no matter what. What am i a perpetual machine...What am I???


              Did anyone care if i was hurt...Did anyone care...Why would anyone...
  I am the one who understand and the one who cares na so what, i will understand others behavior no matter however they decide to behave with me. Why would anyone try to understand me after all I am the place where everyone can deposit their sorrows but who would care to take that little sorrow lying in my heart. Why would anyone. Who will notice that the pillow is not wet just by their tears but also due to my own. Who will care to see the real motive of being an sudden enemy. Who will care that the punches that they put it might hurt them a little but it hurts me worst.but why would anyone care, I am the one who needs to understand....I am the one...

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A Year After 26/11...

     Remembering those great souls who lost their lifes fighting for our safety...

following are some pictures i received after the 26/11...It was from the rally....hoping this rally yeilded something in a year... if not then no one can save US...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Source:Unknown)

-Nickhil Patokar

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If I were a baby again

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 4; the fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

P.S

My sister started with the blog  Through My Eyes  Please Do Visit and comment on her post. 

My cute little sister comes running into my room and hurriedly tries to go online through my PC, but the net appears to be down she asks me what should she do...and i just out of curiosity ask her

"Would you like to  be a baby again"...and she says "yeah why not i would love to be a baby again..." and i ask her, "why ???" she says, "Just coz i miss writing those alphabets, however inverted or scary they might have looked but i still like to write them ..i miss them.."and before i could ask her anything more she started writing stuff on the notepad..Which i read after wards and it said...(her own words)

"""I know once we have became big we think that I must become a small child once again , I too think like this. To share my thoughts with you about this i am here.

          When i was small I was studying in mahatma school of academics & sports. I was crying everyday for a chocolate , if my mother won't buy it , I used to tell her if you wont give me a chocolate , I will not go to school , listening this she was suddenly buying a chocolate for me. But now this idea didn't work , my mother tells me first see your teeth's condition and then tell me i want a chocolate .

         I remember , when my mother was coming to pick me I was telling her to buy a   sparkle glass when she was giving that in my hand it was sliping from my hand and it broke downbut still everyday i used to buy one...now i cant....

        I was not completing my homework I was just playing and now if i dont complete my homework my mother goes on shouting complete your homework fast... now i miss writing that alphabets (which were offcourse written keeping in view the mirror and its reflection), numbers and all .

       At night i used to go in the garden of our building taking my favourite doll with me I was not sleeping untill I atleast went once in the garden....but now no time for that...

       Now I think if i will become small child once again I will not like to become big..."""

I thought about her words written above... they were all small little things, if we change one little thing in it the joy of childhood will vanish...the moment you decide to act more wisely, obediently ....you are thinking like a grown up and you are no longer a baby...so i would say..If i were a baby again i would change Nothing...and just Nothing from my childhood...    

  

      

P.S

My sister started with the blog  Through My Eyes  Please Do Visit and comment on her post. 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

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School Life: Day 1...

      

     Well its years that I started going to school now. Maybe finished the school years too; we all might remember our school friends, the sports periods, calling teachers by inventive names, and every joy and sorrow related to our school life…But we will never ever forget our first day at school.
     Cresent high school that’s what the name of my first school was. Like most of the school timings our school started at 8. now getting up at 7 is one uphill task for persons (friends will place aliens in place of persons here) like me.  But still somehow I managed to get to school at 8. yeah! Parents helped me a lot from waking me up to dropping me to school…but hey its me who got to school.
     As soon as I got inside, a lady instructed the crowd to move up towards the staircase we did or rather I followed everyone else. As soon as I started climbing the staircase, I realized I was not with my parents. I turned back to find them but I could not see anything other than the rush of other students. Horror struck me…I could not see my parents in the near surroundings. This is or was maybe the first time I felt loneliness.    After of around 3 years of contact, this was the first time I was about to leave my Mom. How could I bear with that after all, mom the only person we love during our non schooling childish growth years…although Mom gets replaced by someone else as we grow to become an Adult…But One thing is for sure no one can replace MOM…(Love You MOM…)
     Anyways so here I was standing on the staircase trying to find my mom, and then as the students on the staircase started getting less. I found her, she was there besides the gates with tears rolling down her cheek…and contradicting; finding her was the greatest joy of life. Of that small life…But this joy dint remain for long as some devil lady came to me and took me upstairs. I could not control my tears then. She continuously asked me about which class I was placed but the alien language she spoke, could not be understood by me. So I just stayed there crying…
I forgot when I stopped or why I stopped crying but what I remember is I was shifted from one class to other after every decade or so, as it seemed. Time went by very slowly and then they finally found me the perfect class to sit in...
     After a few more of the decades finally the first day of school was over but not before I met my Mom as she came in to receive me from my classroom…Maybe this joy overtook the previous high that was scored that morning but this dint mattered right then coz I was finally with my Mom… 

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