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      "body": "Congratulations @adityasinha! You received a personal award!\n\n<table><tr><td>https://steemitimages.com/70x70/http://steemitboard.com/@adityasinha/birthday1.png</td><td>Happy Birthday! - You are on the Steem blockchain for 1 year!</td></tr></table>\n\n<sub>_You can view [your badges on your Steem Board](https://steemitboard.com/@adityasinha) and compare to others on the [Steem Ranking](http://steemitboard.com/ranking/index.php?name=adityasinha)_</sub>\n\n\n**Do not miss the last post from @steemitboard:**\n<table><tr><td><a href=\"https://steemit.com/steemitboard/@steemitboard/steemitboard-witness-update-2019-05\"><img src=\"https://steemitimages.com/64x128/http://i.cubeupload.com/7CiQEO.png\"></a></td><td><a href=\"https://steemit.com/steemitboard/@steemitboard/steemitboard-witness-update-2019-05\">SteemitBoard - Witness Update</a></td></tr></table>\n\n###### [Vote for @Steemitboard as a witness](https://v2.steemconnect.com/sign/account-witness-vote?witness=steemitboard&approve=1) to get one more award and increased upvotes!",
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      "body": "![77.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmQadRuxPC4hCSXmnKdUjVoiChYBoqhpQRymEyj7DCJ2mw/77.jpg)\n\nDrop  by  drop , \nDrip in my soul.\nYou wet, still ignite , \nme there to behold ,\ndesire of the night.(I)\n\n\nLips touched the wet,\nWhen our body met.\nLike souls merged , \nI erode , I submerged ,\nVenom,\na wet desire ,\ndesire of the night.(II)\n\n\nPool of fire ,\nburning every hook of me ,\nyou embrace every nook of me.\nYou’re melting , see\nIn the breathes of mine .\nScatter I may might,\nIn the desire of the night . (III)\n \n\nPain evy’where ,\nMist of woods flow here ,\nAnd through tangled limbs \nMy feelings sigh,\nSlipping at wet thigh ,\nPain so equine!\nAs like goddess’ pine. (IV)\n\n\nSleepless eyes ,\nClosed at sight \nThink you may might ,\nBut wet for bodice ,\nDesire of the night ,\nThink twice. (V)\n\n\nIn this stroke crescent\n      You are in me,\nWet and deliquescent.\n    But I am no more,\nIn my own.\nThe night’s desire\nSulks and breathes,\nWhat I’ve sown. (VI)\n\n\nIn the midst of this sight \n    Ours epic delight,\nHave hold, my charm\nMelt you may might, \nNaked, so pure,\nComplete\nDesire of the night. (VII)",
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      "body": "One always gets spoiled for choice when deciding to travel in southern India, even with keeping other parts of India out of choice. I’ve lived in Hyderabad for several years, which further gave me an opportunity to travel across different gems of the south India for a good time. Since you asked for the ‘best’ place in the region to travel,it put me in an immense dilemma over what is best for you. Nevertheless, a best place for traveling implies less crowd, more attractions and a reasonable expense chart to cover. Allow me to introduce one of the relatively underrated travel gem of south India, in comparison to its ‘Malabar’ cousins.\n\nPondicherry\n\n![13.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmeX9hjdQDuWRBgpEhuAp2fM77UetTimSykyLzD9bndmTG/13.jpg)\n\nAlways wanted to travel to Europe and experience that mediterranean culture? Don’t be sad, Pondicherry, or Pondy as it is lovingly known, is a beautiful and well designed post colonial town, where Tamilian and French cultures assimilate to give Pondy a distinct cultural identity. From pristine white sand beaches to gothic- styled catholic churches and cathedrals, it has something for everyone to enjoy and relenquish. I’ll go into details one by one.\n\nScuba diving\n\n![14.webp](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmSrLMuiW5gTKX69eXAYjE41rH5bJKjJxJKyzH7ZY1wFGB/14.webp)\n\nNeedless to say, Pondicherry has some of the most beautiful white salt-sand beaches on the eastern coast of India. But what holds attention is that it is also the only spot in the eastern coast to have a scuba diving spot.And guess what, it is also way more cheaper than Goa,andamans or Kerala. While a typical diving session costs you about Rs.10,000/- and Rs.15000/- in Goa and Havelock islands (Andamans), it drastically comes down comfortably to Rs.6000/- at paradise beach islands,Pondicherry.\n\n2. Nightlife\n\n![15.webp](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmQna8xJxyxzEAafMmqHBGy1U1XoQcWNEU9H9ADatHYHrb/15.webp)\n\nInterestingly, vehicular traffic at Pondicherry gets stopped between 7:30 p.m to 6:30 a.m in the morning, thus paving way for unhindered night walks and loads of fun! Walk all your way admiring the gothic architecture on tree laden boulevards, grab a drink or two from bamboo bar in whitetown, or head straight towards the ‘light house’ for a white wine laden romantic date.\n\n3. Cycle tours\n\n![16.webp](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmNQ1cPYCaAH9JkEZgFmy6PnbLGBHkj85dPVmpMFubDHtH/16.webp)\n\nPondicherry has a dedicated community of french and indian people alike who like to show fellow travelers, how their beloved city looks like.There are plethora of options available for cycling tours and walks at a very reasonable price. Cycle your way through serenity beach,rock beach, aurobindo ashram and the old light house, and you’ll find a sepia tinted, nostalgic memory etched into your mind. Alternatively, you’ll be meeting and making friendships with new people en way, which itself is a rare experience to be found,now a days. :)\n\nCycle tours are available for about Rs.1700/- in various ashrams.\n\nTraveler tip: Please do receive blessings from the elephant in mannakula vinaynagar ganpati temple, it’s awesome!\n\n![17.webp](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmXZBaVHsRNeCN4ZYNrijmqQuyFyQ5y852DnVbTCR92iaP/17.webp)\nP.S: Major Indian cities like Chennai and Bangalore are proximate to Pondicherry, just in case.\n\nHi! I’m Aditya Raj Sinha, on a mission to provide travel tips and hacks for travelling across India. If you like my content, then please upvote and let me know in the comments.",
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      "title": "It rained in the winter",
      "body": "Seeing you\nFor their traction\nThey do call you,\nWhore, a distraction\nBut still,\nThere is a voice\nBeneath my baritone\nwhich begs them,\nTo think and be gone,\nThat she is only,\nonly, my satisfaction.\n\t\nAs she looks far away\nFar from my vision,\nMy heart corrodes,\nfar from my submission.\nAnd sweet memories erode\nOf us sharing apple’s peck,\nOf drawing corn fields with a speck,\nOf sharing souls and sheets,\nand making love together.\nThe heaven comes together\nIn midst of hell,\nas she looks far away.\n\nSeeing you truly,\n  heals me.\nThe audience broke to a round of applause, with whistles and jeers. The relatively small, mahogany -wood furnished café with lesser visitors than often gave vibes of a typical Christmas get together, rather than that of poetry club meet of our college alumni .Much of the water has been passed under the bridge since I passed out from the college, and the possibility of making a living out writing has been somewhere buried within those excel sheets and presentations, only waiting reluctantly to see the light of the day.\n   You ask my credentials and I’ll tell you,’’Radhika Sharma, relations manager at HW systems, India’’, but deep within, it pains to change it to just,’’Radhika Sharma, writer’’.\n         It was a dark, harshly cold typical Delhi winter night and certainly was not meant for driving. I mean, driving for lazy anti drivers like us. Nevertheless, it gave me at least one reason to remember Kunal, my ex-boyfriend with whom I broke up last week after a relationship of two seemingly long, tedious corporate years. Everyone from friends to my family was shocked and devastated after hearing my decision, especially those aunties whose sole motive lay in ‘fixing right boys for girls’. They, however, failed to acknowledge the fact he never accepted me the way I was, and was always against this seemingly stupid idea of’ becoming a writer’.\n ’Do you really think you are that good? Do you even have an idea of what you are saying?’ and all kinds of other rhetorical questions.\n My grandma used to tell, ’your words can change the world, they have turned the tides in the war, so use them wisely, meri bacchi (my child)’.\nAfter all of these years of mundane lifestyle and a dysfunctional relationship of two years, my conscience quietly asks my grandma amidst these blazing winds of harsh, selfish world of ours, just one question, does words really have the power to make a change in our world? Or that was indeed meant to be a word candy given to an 11 year old kid?\nAs I honked thrice for the gatekeeper to wake from his plastic chair-laden sleep paradise to open up the car parking for me, and parked my car in one of my neighbor’s space, Savita , one of the neighbor on my floor came running to me shouting ‘didi!’ all the way along. Sweating profusely, she surely made me sweat in a winter night from the anticipation of a bad news, a collective society throw out maybe. ‘Didi, Suhana has met with an accident’, she blurted.\n   I pranced through the hospital sections to look out for my sister, and barged into the dressing section only to find her sobbing while undergoing dressing and a visibly annoyed nurse on my intrusion into a gloomy, disinfectant-smelling world of hers. She gave me a stern, animated look to wait for Suhana outside, and as I proceeded, I met with my sister’s Samaritan, courtesy to the doctor. He was a tall and almond complexioned of an athletic but thin make up, with his stubble giving him a look of an intellectual countryside priest. Although it was fairly late enough for normal, day- working humans to get tired and sleepy, his hazel eyes seemed to tell his anticipation of his upcoming night plans, soccer match maybe. \n  “I don’t know how to thank ...’’, \n’’Never mind, nice poem by the way!’’ He cut me short.\n He continued,’’ Your poem didn’t looked like written by someone amateur, are you a writer?” I thanked almighty for this moment of cherish and just blurted weirdly,’’ It just comes out randomly.’’ We both laughed. \n“I’m Sahil. And really, your poem did seem to remind me of someone whom I can’t remember. I’m sorry, I’ll have to leave for home.’’ He graced and moved quickly out of the hospital, leaving me there with a sweet taste of a candid conversation amidst the overall silent and gloomy atmosphere of a hospital, with a tubelight intentionally fluctuating to give a sense of irritation, I bet. How much I hated hospitals!\nI drove back home, this time completely exhausted and just waiting for the roads to end so that I can finally crash on my bed. My sister Suhana, staying with me to study for her medical exams due next year in a reputed coaching institute, was still trying to recover from the physiological shock received from the accident on her left arm. Amidst all of this, I felt a strange déjà vu from my small encounter from Sahil. But sleep deprivation took better of me and I decided to reach home, again, and sleep. I eventually forgot about this incident in the span of next few days, thanks to my excel sheets and work targets.\n                                   ------------------*----------------------*---------------------*----------------------\nIf you have seen the horrendous, long daylight traffic jams of south Delhi, you probably have an idea of what sense a metro travel makes for short detour from your office. Especially when you have to escort a younger sibling to complete his or her study goals at right place, on right time. Especially when the younger sibling is a hand-broken sister preparing for her medical exams. As left for my office again after leaving Suhana at Hauz Khas, I saw a known set of hazel eyes, a stubble and almond complexion. As I waved at him out of sheer boredom, he took a while to recognize me and once assured, asked if he could come up to me. I nodded in gratitude and tried to make way for him to come. ”Hi, how you doin’? Suhana all right?” he said, still struggling to get a hold amongst crowd.\n “She’s okay, just left her at hostel. Thank you once again for getting her to hospital.”\n ”Ah! Never mind. At least I got to know you this way!” He smiled. \nThere was something so peculiar about his mannerism which I felt throughout we talked about the journey afterwards for about one hour. I always had a strange gut feeling of seeing him somewhere else before this. \n‘’I am in the  army and on a one month vacation, will be able to hear you only for the upcoming meet scheduled. Looking forward!” This is what he said before he left.  \n                                      ---------------------*----------------*-------------*-------------------------\n                   I had about six hours to go for my next poetic performance, with an unprecedented sense of giving a fine performance in front of someone. It usually happens with all of us only when we try to make our loved ones happy or want a share of their affection, say your mother or anyone family. But this was a first time that I was feeling it coming for someone I don’t know, but it sure felt like an impure, yet satisfying heat coming from a fireside, like an only source of warmth amidst the harsh, selfish and mean snowfall in the moonless night. \n         I lazily reached for my personal drawer to draw out a personal file having my childhood written poems, intended to be read out only on special occasions. While I nostalgically searched for poems amidst sepia-tinted poster cards and my photographs with grandma getting white at edges, the rainy wind came intentionally intruding into my privacy and in a failed attempt of trying to read out the contents of the file, spread them off everywhere on the floor. Already pissed on the rain from the morning itself, I rose from the couch to collect the papers almost in a robotic fashion, and stopped over on one of the fallen picture of mine with some boy, albeit in a park, in a very playful mood. \n          I quickly recognized the boy, and laughed animatedly over his funny mannerisms, with whom I used to play various role-plays in the park during my summer vacations in Dehradun. We used to meet only for roughly a month every year, and we were used to be partners in crimes all together. I even wrote a poem for him to gift him at his 12th birthday. But much to my surprise, I couldn’t recall his name. As I picked it up to put back in file, I saw something which would go on to make a complete change in my life from onwards. With unbelieving eyes and a shaky hand, I read what was written over backside of the photograph.\n                                       ”Bye Radhika. “\n                                               -From Sahil.    \n             It was unnaturally raining incessantly in freaking cold times of December when my next poetry club’s meet took place. Everyone was expecting me to give another marvel at the event, and I liked this feeling of community respect. As eventually my turn came in and everyone cheered, Sahil almost appeared from nowhere, looking elegant in his blue Chinese collar-denims combo, and joined his bunch of friends in the cheer chorus as well. Then there was a pin drop silence for me to continue. \nI started.\n\n           Twilight, ’o’ twilight\n              You hold \n      a saga bright ,\n     of infinite treasures\n  treasures of night.\n \n     Twilight , ‘o’ twilight ,\n  You shone us a light\nOf moving against past\nTo hold along\nAs long as it may last.\n\nStories of night\nvision of galore, \nchivalry and valor\nunder your sight.\n\n\nEternal lust \nWar, love and fight.\nbrooks of  love\nraging against,\nocean of malice.\nYou shone on them,\nyour gazing light.\n  \nTwilight, ó twilight\nWhy dýou envisage\nLust\nfor a drop of tear?\nBeúse o’you\nwe do bear \nbear the sight\nof raging lust\n‘mong  enraging hearts\ntell me why\ntwilight ‘o’ twilight !\n\nEndless towns,\nof gospel and gowns\nare as good as dead,\nyou may frown.\n\n\nIn the world\nYou seem to only \nto emancipate and elude\nso be kind.\n\nLike yours are hard,\nhard to find.\nlong live \n   long alive\ntwilight, ’o’ twilight. \n\n \n  There was still silence eluded even after I ended. And then came a huge round of applause from corners of the café, and continued for a while. But somehow, somewhere my heart was searching for appreciation that one person, who gave me respect only for what I wanted, not anything else. Amongst all of cheers, whistles and appreciation, my eyes were only looking forward to the child with whom I used to play on river banks, read poems together and feel free to do whatever I felt to do so. We didn’t share a certain thread of relation to bind ourselves in limits, we were just two kids curious enough to explore what beautiful treasures life gives us in abundance. I searched and scouted for him everywhere possible in the café premises, failing that I ran to the exit to catch him at least on his way home. I’ve missed him once, and surely can’t do that again. Not able to spot him anywhere, I came back into the café heavily exhausted, breathing deeply partly from the blaze of missing him once again and scarcity of oxygen in my chest. \nAs people had started to move back for their homes or their exciting next leg of their nightlife, I saw Sahil sulking behind the mass exodus in a dim setting, with a glass of scotch whiskey gleaming from the striplights. I slowly went up to him, my heart beating to its peak and an unnaturally calm mind, and stood there for a moment to make my mind believe that this was the same person who had heard my poem twice in his life.\n “So, you figured it out?” a voice came somewhere beneath the dim ambience.\n “Yes, m-maybe today itself.” I somehow gave an answer.\n “Why did you stop coming to Dehradun? I used to wait for you every year in the park.”\n I was in tears now. “My grandma passed away, so I didn’t have a reason to come.”\n He rose abruptly and came near, much closer to me. His alcohol tinted warm breath started touching my neckline and carelessly played with my earrings, as mumbled earnestly into my ears,” I may not hold any existence in your life anymore, but I still have to show you places, places untraveled.”\n We kissed and held on to each other, as time seemed to stop for a while and a hazy night was intoxicated from the strong vibes of passion that emanated from us. We spent the rest of the night sharing sweet memories and nostalgia mixed with love at my home.\n  It would certainly be ridiculous to conclude the possibility of literary winds to move a grim, mean and big world of ours, but deep beneath, I did realized that words certainly moved a small, naïve world of mine on that day, it truly did.\n          The audience broke to a thunderous applause and continued for while after a successful narration of my first book, having credentials,” Radhika Mehta, writer.” , as Capt. Sahil Mehta looked  emotionally moved, and watched me with utmost pride, along with our two kids trotting all along the place.",
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