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Category: Mystery Airships
Thomas Jefferson and the UFO
On July 29, 2015 April 22, 2018 By Christopher ColemanIn Dixie, Dixie Spirits, Fortean Falls, Mystery Airships, Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground, Supernatural, UFO'sLeave a comment
Thomas Jefferson, president of the United States, author of the Declaration of Independence and early ufologist.
While I normally write on paranormal topics rather than on UFO's, where they involve a Dixie mystery, I sometimes make a detour to investigate various unexplained aerial phenomena. For example, in Strange Tales I researched the time one or more UFO's buzzed the Tennessee Valley at the beginning of the twentieth century (multiple reports of that) and also rare Fortean falls of blood and gore in Tennessee and Kentucky. In Dixie Spirits I reported on a close encounter in West Virginia that Joe Nichol and his professional cynics have tried to explain away with a unique combination of arrogance and ignorance. Moreover, down in Pascagoula, Mississippi, I have written about the "singing river" mystery, of which I reported only a fraction of the weirdness known from that area; while I didn't bring in any theories about alien beings being responsible, others have, citing numerous UFO, USO and close encounters in the area; what the truth behind all that phenomena around Pascagoula may be is still unresolved, but definitely something is, or has been, going on there that defies ordinary scientific explanation.
While there is a certain overlap between paranormal phenomena, cryptozoology and UFO's, as a rule these are discrete and separate fields of inquiry. For one thing, most scientists do not take paranormal or supernatural accounts seriously and tend to dismiss them all, either as hoaxes or "delusions of the masses" when they can't rationalize them away; whereas most scientists take the possibility of extraterrestrial life quite seriously, even if they might not accept the evidence of UFO investigators. The SETI program is quite well funded and other scientific programs have also been searching the skies for proof of life elsewhere in the universe—even on mars.
So when I learned of Thomas Jefferson's own interest in unsolved celestial phenomena, it piqued my interest. Jefferson was very much a man of the enlightenment and he kept an open mind to many mysteries that lacked easy answers. He was one of the first, for example, to recognize that mammoths and mastodons roamed America and it is not generally appreciated that one of the goals of the Lewis and Clarke expedition was to go "looking for the elephant" and see if any still lived in the unexplored western territories at that time.
So we should not be surprised when, in 1800, Jefferson learned of a strange aerial sighting, he was moved to publish a report of it in a scholarly journal. We are beholden to Thomas J. for an accurate account of one sighting in Louisiana. Jefferson's original correspondent was a gentleman planter named William Dunbar, a Scotsman by birth and a naturalist, astronomer, ethnologist and explorer living in Natchez, Mississippi at the time. In searching the Jefferson Papers, it turns out that one part of Dunbar's missive to Jefferson survived, on Indian sign language, but not apparently his separate enclosure on the UFO, so we just have Jefferson's summary of it. Like Jefferson, however, I will attempt to give an objective account of the sighting without too much speculation.
On night of April 5, 1800, an object was seen pass over Baton Rouge. It came from the southwest, flying low overhead and moved at an extremely high rate of speed, disappearing out of sight within a quarter of a minute. Eyewitnesses described it as being "as big as a house" and 70-80 feet long and being only some 200 feet above their heads when it passed.
It was described as being "wholly luminous but not emitting sparks" and Jefferson gives a vivid description of its luminosity: "of a colour resembling the sun near the horizon in a cold frosty evening, which may be called a crimson red." When it passed overhead a considerable degree of heat was felt "but no electrical sensation," by which I take Jefferson to mean that it was not ball lightening or similar phenomena. Immediately after it passed to the northeast a violent rushing noise was heard, indicating it was passing faster than the speed of sound; apparently the force of its passage bent trees before it and a few seconds later a loud crash was heard, "similar to that of the largest piece of ordinance" and a shock, like an earthquake, was felt as well.
Observers rushed to where the object landed and while the area plant life was burnt to a crisp and the ground much torn up, apparently there was no object found and Jefferson's description does not indicate an impact crater either. What was it? Well, the simple answer would be a meteor of some sort. But if so, why was no debris from it found. Curious onlookers swarmed the area apparently, but no follow up report of finding a meteorite or fragments thereof were found. It was obviously very large and low flying, so one would expect a considerable zone of destruction if it had exploded above the ground, along the lines of the Tunguska explosion in 1909. Yet apparently that was not the case, since the nearby witnesses lived to tell the tale. Another curious fact emerges from Jefferson's report; it sounds as if it were flying almost parallel to the ground; surely most meteors or other space debris would be falling at an acute angle, if not a near vertical angle.
I myself have seen a bright object come down a few years back. To the best of my knowledge no one else saw or reported it and it made no sound; like Jefferson's UFO it disappeared within a few seconds. But it descended at a forty-five degree angle and while luminous it was not close to the ground. It may have been a small, bright meteorite, for if it been the size of Jefferson's object it would have been noticed when it impacted. Of course, we cannot be certain that Jefferson's object did indeed crash; it may have exploded mid-air and disintegrated into nothingness. Then too, it may have pulled up at the last moment and climbed up out of its gradual but supersonic descent; but if the latter, it would have to have been a manned craft and not simply some inert rock or fragment of a comet. This may have been the first such sighting, but apparently it was not the last. Checking recent accounts, there are evidently quite a few sightings of strange lights and aerial phenomena in the Baton Rouge area, pretty much ongoing, some of which have been recorded by camera or cellphone.
In an article on the University of Chicago website, Penelope, the blogger makes a similar point to mine, only does some interesting calculations:
Distance from impact: 6 km
Projectile diameter: 75 feet
Projectile density:
porous stone: 1500 kg/m3
maybe a bit more if some kind of craft, i.e., a semi-hollow metal object
Impact velocity: 0.6 km/s
Impact angle: 1.9°
Target type: Sedimentary rock
The U. of C. blogger notes that: "if it was a house-sized object coming in at a meteoric speed, it would have been a huge event, with no survivors for miles, flattened trees, etc." They point out that the object which created Arizona's Meteor Crater would have been about 50 meters in size, or only about twice the size of the object reported by Dunbar. So, where's the beef, as it were?
In the end, Jefferson's report of a UFO leaves more questions than answers. What was it? Did it somehow recover from its rapid descent and peel off, leaving only burnt vegetation and blasted ground behind? Well, the honest answer is we simply don't know and unless more information surfaces, we must continue to categorize it as an unidentified flying object.
William Dunbar, naturalist, astronomer and explorer, was descended from titled nobility, but settled in Natchez and corresponded with Jefferson and other leading intellectuals of his day.
Thomas Jefferson, Transactions, American Philosophical Society, vol. 6 Part 1 (Philadelphia, 1804), p. 25. Jefferson mentions an illustration, but none of the sources I consulted had it.
The Penelope website at the University of Chicago: http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Journals/TAPS/6/Baton_Rouge_Phenomenon*.html
National Archives, Founders online: http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jefferson/01-32-02-0037
For more unexplained phenomena, see Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground and Dixie Spirits.
Memphis and the Mothership
On July 21, 2014 April 22, 2018 By Christopher ColemanIn Fortean Falls, Memhis, Mothership, Mystery Airships, Rains of Snakes, Supernatural, Tennessee, UFO's in Tennessee, Unexplained Mysteries, Weird Rain, West Tennessee hauntingsLeave a comment
Artist's conception of a mothership. Did one hover over Memphis, Tennessee in 1904?
December 2, 1904, dawned clear and cold over the Bluff City. People in the city were going about their normal Friday morning activities, rich and poor, black and white.
Then, around nine a.m., something strange happened. Without warning the sun was blotted out of the sky. In the space of a minute or so, the day went from a bright, sunlight autumn morn to utter and complete darkness. Work came to a crashing halt; laborers and others scramble to turn on gas lamps, oil lamps or incandescent bulbs. It soon became apparent that this was no ordinary event.
The "inky darkness" was sudden and complete; there had been no warning, no approaching storm. The schools, which relied on daylight for illumination, were plunged into darkness, throngs of children terrified. Adults too were scared out of their wits, both at home and at work. One longshoreman hugged a telegraph pole for dear life, too frightened to let go.
All in all, the eerie darkness lasted more than half an hour, then disappeared as quickly as it had begun. The mysterious blackout was soon followed by a real storm, which was itself awful in its ferocity. For days the people of Memphis, Tennessee, were bothered and bewildered by what had happened.
A sudden "inky blackness" descends on Memphis without warning.
Of course, there were the usual naysayers who tried to dismiss it as just a dark storm cloud passing over. But those who experienced knew that was a lie. The storm came after the blackness, not before or during it. It was an eclipse then; unexpected but nothing more? Well, neither the sun nor moon make special side trips for eclipses; no solar eclipse was scheduled for that day in that place.
Having myself experienced a number of total eclipses in my lifetime, from the written accounts it is clear that it couldn't have been a natural eclipse. For one thing, the sky gradually gets darker, like a cloudy day, before the total eclipse and even then the blackness only lasts few minutes at most. This was different: it was sudden, it was total and it lasted a long time. The object blotting out the sun had to have been in stationary orbit between the earth and sun to create such an effect. No natural celestial body could have done that.
Though no one at the time voiced the opinion, only a UFO of massive size and capable of maintaining a stationary orbit above the city could have done that: in effect, a "mothership."
Now this event is but one of the many strange things that has been know to happen in Memphis. Aside from a surfeit of haunted houses and similar apparitions, there was the case on January, 15, 1877, when it rained snakes on the city. They were not little hatchlings either: the snakes were all dark brown—thousands and thousands of them—a foot to a foot and a half in length.
In January, 1877 thousands of snakes rained down on Memphis, one of the weirdest Fortean Falls on record.
Again scientists tried to explain away the unexplainable: they had been picked up by a "hurricane" and somehow deposited by the tens of thousands on the city. The fact that hurricanes don't occur in January, that Memphis, Tennessee is too far inland for a hurricane to reach or the fact that snakes, being cold-blooded animals, would be hibernating securely underground in January did not seem to phase the professional debunkers then, any more than it does now.
For more true accounts of high strangeness in the Mid-South, see Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground.
UFO's Over Dixie, Then and Now
On October 30, 2012 April 22, 2018 By Christopher ColemanIn Dixie, Dixie Spirits, Mystery Airships, Thirteen Days of Halloween, UFO'sLeave a comment
I had intended to blog today about a classic Dixie haunting, but after having an encounter this morning with a UFO I decided to do something different.
I would have called it a close encounter, but looking up J. Allen Hynek's categories regarding UFO sightings, I can't say that what I saw was as close as 500 feet. However, what I did see was about as close as I'd want to be, considering how rapidly it was descending.
What did I see? Well, I was driving due east, a little north of Nashville just about six am; the moon was full even through a light haze and low on the horizon when looking ahead just left of it came streaking down a large glowing object, descending at a fort-five degree angle.
Compared to the full moon it looked about a third the size although obviously was much closer, it was about as bright as the moon and whether it left a trail or simply that it moved so fast it created a blur behind it I can't say. It was only visible for a few seconds before it disappeared behind the treeline.
Judging by its trajectory it would have either landed in Old Hickory Lake by to Hendersonville, or perhaps it crashed to earth in nearby Madison or Old Hickory. Now, what it was is anybody's guess: that's the Unidentified part of being a UFO.
It could have been a plane crashing, a meteor or some sort of artificial craft. Since a plane crash would have been on the news that is unlikely. If it was a meteor it was a very large one; there are probably some very spooked cows right now near Opryland if so. On the other hand, a craft from outer space can't be ruled out, albeit that also includes space junk. Whatever it is it is quite real. Look to the skies Nashville!
Sorry, but I can't tell you about seeing little green men, or "grays" or the like; which is not to say that Tennessee and the South haven't had such encounters in the past.
For example I wrote the Mystery Airship that buzzed Tennessee in the early 1900's. "Mystery Airships" was the term they used in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century for the cigar-shaped UFO's. In Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground I chronicled the "Cigars from Mars" that buzzed the Tennessee Valley in January, 1910. It was sighted over Huntsville, Alabama, Chattanooga, Tennessee and Knoxville and was seen by hundreds of people.
While there are those who have suggested it was simply some anonymous dirigible having fun with the populace, I checked Jane's All the World's Airships for that period and none of the American craft could have fitted the bill. At that point in time, before World War I, such craft ambled along at about 10 or 20 mph; your lawnmower engine would be more powerful than the engines these craft had.
This UFO was going at a relatively high rate of speed and at a height which was simply beyond the technology of the time. Moreover, across the globe there was a rash of similar sightings late in 1909 and early 1910–all of them unexplained.
Then there was the Close Encounter that occurred in West Virginia in 1952 near Flatwoods when some kids playing ball saw an aerial object come down.
Unlike my UFO it descended at a more gradual trajectory and one might have assumed it was just a meteor roaring past; but the boys went investigate and the craft evidently made a soft landing. Gathering some friends and acquaintances, they went into the woods to investigate and encountered a creature unlike any of the standard descriptions of aliens.
One professional debunker–who wasn't there–brushed it off as a "screech-owl" after interviewing all the residents of the area who weren't there that night, which ranks with "swamp gas" as one of the more feeble rationalizations. Although the craft was gone when the locals came back with authorities, there were signs on the ground that something had indeed been there–what, remains a mystery to this day.
From Pascagoula to Louisville and everywhere in between, weird craft, strange sights, , uncanny lights, red rains, preternatural falls snakes and all manner of other aerial spookiness have been reported for generations.
While many may scoff at those who report such things, don't count me among them, for I too have seen something descend from the heavens I can't explain.
Comets and meteors have often been recorded as celestial dragons wreaking havoc from above.
The Thirteen Halloween Hauntings, Part 1
On October 21, 2012 July 8, 2020 By Christopher ColemanIn Campus Ghosts, Curse of the White Mule, Dixie Spirits, East Tennessee Ghosts and Haunts, Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee, Haunted Honkey Tonks, Haunting Tales of Dixie, Holiday Ghosts, Holiday Haunts, Knoxville ghosts and haunts, Mammy Wise, Memhis, Music City Ghosts, Mystery Airships, Nashville, North Carolina Witchery, Rugby Tennessee, Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground, Tennessee ghosts and haunts, Tennessee Stink Apes, The Paranormal Presidency, Thirteen Days of Halloween, Tootsie's Orchid Lounge, UFO's in Tennessee, Victorian Ghosts, Wise Women1 Comment
In Wales black cats are considered good luck
The Thirteen Days of Halloween, Part I
In honor of that spookiest day of the year—October 31—I am penning thirteen blogs daily, now through fright night.
Why thirteen? Well, we have the twelve days of Christmas—or at least we used to. Yuletide should run from December 25 through January 6 by rights, although lately it seems folks want to get the holiday season over with early on December 26. I am among that obstinate minority who prefer to enjoy Yuletide for as long as possible–and that means quaffing flagons of Yuletide Cheer from big Christmas to Little Christmas. Moreover, in Wales, not only are black cats considered lucky, so is the number 13. Ultimately, for no particular reason other than it sounds good, I chose thirteen for Halloween.
The Dragon with the flagon holds the brew that is true.
Black Cats and Thirteen anything–what could be more Halloweenish? Of course, the Welsh being Celts, they have a strong contrary streak and so whatever superstition their English neighbors adhere to, one can almost guarantee the Welsh will tend to believe just the opposite. My black cat, Enoch, was certainly lucky: he got to sleep all day, ate when he wanted, and pretty much did as he pleased (which was not much). And if cats normally have nine lives, Enoch was blessed with at least double that amount.
Speaking of superstitions, one Southern superstition that Yankees north of the Mason-Dixon Line may not have heard of is enshrined in the expression "jumping the broom." Among folks in Dixie, to "jump the broom" is another way to say getting married. It comes from the belief that if newlyweds place a broom across the threshold to their new home, witches can't follow them in and put a hex on the marriage. Although in Appalachia they don't call it hex, they call it "spelt."
In the old days, couples literally did put a broom across the entrance to their cabin on wedding day and then physically jumped across it. Brides and grooms who jumped the broom were believed to enjoy a more harmonious and fruitful marriage, and to judge by the number of children they had in the old days, this seems to have been true.
The Mid-South abounds in uncanny and unexplained phenomena, from professors who suddenly burst into flame, to sightings of strange craft over the Tennessee Valley in the days when no such craft existed, to the numerous "Spook Lights" found in almost every state of Dixie. This is in addition to the many ante-bellum manse's that each is a Gothic horror show in itself. Of course, what would Appalachia be without it's "Wise Women" and whether you regard them as a bane or a boon, you best not get on their bad side in any case.
For more about Tennessee witches and witchcraft–and how avoid being spelt or to counter their curse if you are–see my original accounts in Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground and Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee. And while you're at it, also check out Dixie Spirits a sampler of all things uncanny in the Southland.
Halloween marks the beginning of the season when all life dies away–to the eye–not to be truly revived until its sister holiday, April 30. The ancient Celts called the two festivals Semaine and Beltaine and the period in between was a time when one gathered round the hearth and told tales to enchant young and old. Beltaine is also known as the Witches' Sabbath when, like Halloween, all manor of spirits, uncanny creatures and other fey folk are abroad in the dark. On Halloween we have the additional bane of evil beings such as politicians roaming the land seeking votes.
Fear not, however, we shall limit our discussion only to the supernatural and similar things and while we won't limit these thirteen entries just to the South, there are more than man can ken in the region to venture farther afield in search of the uncanny. So curl up with your favorite flagon–or favorite dragon–stoke the hearth (even if it's just a video loop on Roku) and enjoy stories to curl your toes and give you goosebumps!
If you want to know more of things that go bump in the night, you can do no better than curl up with a copy or three of Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground, Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee or Dixie Spirits–after which this blog is named.
Strange Tales of the Dark and Bloody Ground: True Tales from the Haunted Hills and Valleys of Mid South
Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee. True tales of the Volunteer State, from the Hag Infested Hollows of East Tennessee to the Paranormal Madness of Memphis with a few side trips to the Haunted Honkey-Tonks of Nashville.
Dixie Spirits: true tales of the Strange and Supernatural south of the Mason-Dixon Line.


In addition to their extensive Netflix-like streaming library, Hulu now also offers a bundle of 50-plus live TV channels, including E!. You can sign up for "Hulu with Live TV" right here, and you can then watch a live stream of KUWTK on your computer via the Hulu website, or on your phone, tablet or streaming device via the Hulu app.
E! is one of 85 channels in the main "Fubo" bundle. You can sign up for a free 7-day trial right here, and you can then watch KUWTK on your computer via the FuboTV website, or on your phone, tablet or streaming device via the FuboTV app.
Tonight's episode is titled "The Family Feud". The plot synopsis of the episode reads, "Kourtney is devastated when Scott introduces the kids to his girlfriend; the family is determined to redeem themselves on Celebrity Family Feud." On the show, Kourtney had been fighting with her sisters for weeks, and it looks like drama is not slowing down for this Kardashian. And, in preparation for Celebrity Family Feud, sister Kendall Jenner gets very nervous about being on the game show, according to E!. Jenner also admits that she was a bit put off because she was added to the line up last minute, but sisters Kim and Khloe tell her that they never thought she would want to participate.
Kylie Jenner has only made one appearance on the show this season. Fans are hoping to see more of the youngest sister, but she also has her own spin-off that is rumored to be making a return.


Get a behind the scenes look at a glamour headshots portrait session. Jordan got some great shots in this amazing light! I love when we are able to take a normally dull area you never thought would make for good photos, and take some amazingly beautiful photos!
Posted by SouthernJewelPhotography & filed under Portrait, Video. This post has no comments yet.


The RepRap Mondrian 3D printer is a Cartesian robot built from 20x20mm aluminium profiles.
For this printer you need several panels with different thicknesses. Some of them are absolutely necessary to hold the electronic components and the structure, whereas others are optional for building a closed housing for the printer.
For the structure and platform you can use both, 5mm or 6mm panels. The correct size depends on the width of the profile groove which can be 5 or 6mm, thus the printer's structure is inserted into the groove. If you want to use our aluminium V-Slot 20x20 profile for the construction of the printer, you will need the 6mm panels.


text:
Q: ImportError: cannot import name 'export_tflite_ssd_graph_lib' Trying to import my train model to TensorFlow Lite fails with this error:
ImportError: cannot import name 'export_tflite_ssd_graph_lib'

What is this happening?

A: By following this tutorial:
https://github.com/tensorflow/models/blob/master/research/object_detection/g3doc/running_on_mobile_tensorflowlite.md
I was able to get around this issue.
Make sure you run it from
/models/research

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


We are currently looking for an experienced Assistant Art Director to work with our Ginny's Brand in Monroe, WI. This role will assist with creative direction for Cataloag initiatives. This leader will be responsible for creating design concepts, layouts and providing photo direction for catalog and E-Commerce initiatives. Works closely with supervisor, department management, product merchandisers, copywriter and catalog production manager to meet all deadlines and accurately produce high quality images and catalog pages. Responsible for adhering to brand style guides and specific style tactics established by the brand team. Our CompanyColony Brands is one of the largest direct marketers in the United States. We are one of the fastest growing and most profitable catalog and E-Commerce companies in the United States. Colony Brands, Inc. employs over 5,000 people in a vast array of jobs. We currently have 15 catalog brands, as well as mutliple affiliates and subsidiary companies. We offer a competitive salary and our benefit package offers a variety of healthcare options along with 401k, pension plan, and company profit sharing.


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TDWP debuts at #10 on Billboard
September 22, 2011 By Doug Van Pelt
"'Dead Throne' is a thirteen track band-defining epic…The Devil Wears Prada has released their best metalcore album of the year." — Absolute Punk
Debuting in the Top 10 for the second consecutive time, The Devil Wears Prada sees Dead Throne (Ferret), the band's first full-length album since 2009, claiming the #10 spot on next week's Billboard Top 200 Albums chart with more than 32,400 copies sold, an impressive jump from the 25,000 copies their last release brought to its first chart appearance.
In addition, Dead Throne came in at #3 on both the Top Current Rock Albums and Top Hard Music Albums charts, and #1 on the Independent Current Albums chart.
But the success for Dead Throne doesn't stop there, as the album has received some stellar reviews: "[Dead Throne] is a standout…" "…everything one could want in a new album from TDWP…" "…epic metalcore…" "With 'Dead Throne,' the band has taken a real step towards making themselves future kings of the metal genre…" "easily the metalcore album of the year…" "it's hard to top the mighty roar TDWP has concocted on its fourth album and heaviest yet…" among them.
Following its first headline tour of Australia, The Devil Wears Prada will kick off "Dead Throne Tour: North American 2011," the band's 36-date trek that starts November 3 in Milwaukee and will criss-cross the U.S. and Canada over a six-week period. On the "Dead Throne Tour: North American 2011," TDWP will be supported by Whitechapel, Enter Shikari, and For Today on all dates. The itinerary is as follows:
3 The Rave, Milwaukee, WI
6 House of Blues, Chicago, IL
7 Epic, Minneapolis, MN
8 The Garrick, Winnipeg, MB CANADA
10 Edmonton Events Center, Edmonton, AB CANADA
11 MacEwan Ballroom, Calgary, AB CANADA
13 Rickshaw Theatre, Vancouver, BC CANADA
14 Showbox SoDo, Seattle, WA
15 Roseland Theatre, Portland, OR
17 Regency Ballroom, San Francisco, CA
18 The Catalyst, Santa Cruz, CA
19 SOMA, San Diego, CA
20 Club Nokia, Los Angeles, CA
21 Marquee Theatre, Tempe, AZ
23 Saltair, Magna, UT
25 Summit Music Hall, Denver, CO
26 Diamond Ballroom, Oklahoma City, OK
27 House of Blues, Dallas, TX
28 Backstage Live, San Antonio, TX
29 Warehouse Live Ballroom, Houston, TX
30 House of Blues, New Orleans, LA
2 Ritz Ybor, Tampa, FL
3 Revolution, Ft. Lauderdale, FL
4 House of Blues, Orlando, FL
5 The Masquerade, Atlanta, GA
7 Amos' Southend, Charlotte, NC
8 The National, Richmond, VA
9 The Fillmore, Silver Spring, MD
10 Electric Factory, Philadelphia, PA
11 Starland Ballroom, Sayreville, NJ
13 Best Buy Theatre, New York, NY
14 The Palladium, Worcester, MA
15 Metropolis, Montreal, QC CANADA
16 Kool Haus, Toronto, ONT CANADA
17 Royal Oak Music Theatre, Royal Oak, MI
18 Bogart's, Cincinnati, OH
The Devil Wears Prada Press Info: http://tiny.cc/tg5dl
For more information on The Devil Wears Prada, visit DeadThrone.com

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Check your ip using ifconfig command.
In this example the ip of the system is 192.168.216.131 and FQDN (fully qualified domain name) is "kalwa2.home.com".
3. Add below entry in the /etc/hosts file.
TorGuard VPN review: Overview , Pricing of the product!!


We are looking for an iOS Developer ready to join a top team of Developers! You will have the opportunity to work with the latest versions of Swift and be surrounded of a top team. Offices in Plaza Catalunya (Barcelona).
Tech Startup that aims to become the biggest provider for elderly care worldwide. They´ve created a GPS solution that will help to people´s security. Offices in Plaza Catalunya (Barcelona).
We are looking for a passionate iOS Developer to complete our Mobile team. You will work with the full cycle of our product and try to develop with the most code quality. You will have to coordinate with the rest of the team working with Agile methodology.
We are looking for someone with an innovative mindset that can propose new ideas to the team.
En esta oferta serás redirigido a la pagina web de la empresa.
Completa el formulario en su web.
Esta candidatura no estará reflejada en tu cuenta.
Tus datos se almacenan directamente en la base de datos de la empresa.


Sparkwell is a 9-hole course found close to the city of Plymouth in South Devon. Found in the grounds of a beautiful manor house which was designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, the gardens and tee boxes merge together to create a wonderfully unique place to play golf. The course opened in 1993 and very quickly became a hit with the locals who enjoyed the challenging parkland. Since then, the course's reputation has grown and it is now a premier destination for golf and golf breaks in Devon.
There is no clubhouse or driving range at Sparkwell Golf Club, just a luxury manor house and a vast area of open land to enjoy a relaxing round of golf. You will however find a pro shop where you'll be able to pick up a wide range of products from the top brands in the sport as well as book lessons with the course professional.
For an enjoying round of golf in Devon, head to Sparkwell Golf Club, one of the hidden gems of the area.


The reggae festival is on this weekend in Ballina. Have you got your tickets. The festival is just 15 minutes drive from Broken Head Holiday park. The festival features great artists from Jamaica, NZ, New Caledonia and the UK. With a great line up for this 2 day event you don't want to miss out. Follow the link below to get tickets and more info. So collect your mates together for a weekend away, Broken Head Holiday Park is the ideal place to stay as we are right on the beach and a short drive to the festival site. Hurry sites are filling fast.
Don't forget school holidays start this weekend so why not bring the family for a fun and relaxing holiday for everyone. With lovely sunny days and great surf you can't go wrong. Reserve your spot today. We still have cabins and sites left. So come join in on the fun at Broken Head Holiday Park today.


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What Does Meth Do to Your Brain? Learn the Short-Term and Long-Term Effects
The abuse of methamphetamine is becoming more common throughout the United States. But what does meth do to your brain?
Whether it's a legal prescription, Desoxyn, or an illegal form, like crystal, all forms of meth are highly addictive and can cause severe health problems that can be permanent and even fatal.
If you or someone you know is suffering from meth addiction, you know how debilitating it can be. But that doesn't mean it can't be overcome.
If you're looking for more information to guide you toward help for you or a loved one, keep reading our page.
Our article is going to focus on:
Signs of meth addiction
Short-term effects of meth use
Long-term effects of meth use
What does meth do to your brain
How to find treatment
Understanding Methamphetamine Addiction
What does meth do to your brain? When someone uses meth, it forces their brain to release neurotransmitters called noradrenaline and dopamine.
Noradrenaline causes a "fight or flight" chemical response, and dopamine allows us to experience pleasure, as well as enhance our focus and memory.
Between these two neurotransmitters, the effects of meth can give someone the feeling of euphoria and a heightened level of focus. Because of these rewarding sensations, the drug teaches the brain to keep taking it to continue the pleasurable effects.
After continued use, the amount and potency of the drug will need to be increased to continue feeling the same level of pleasure. This is how people get addicted to meth.
If you're concerned for a loved one you think might be using meth, there are a few signs you can notice. We've made a brief list of the common signs of meth addiction from an outsider's perspective.
Rotting teeth
Acne and sores
Intense scratching
Dramatic mood changes
How Meth Affects Your Health
Meth causes many health issues, but the longer that it's used, the more damaging effects it can have on your health.
We've made a list of some of the short-term and long-term effects that meth has on your overall health, and then we'll delve more into what long-term meth use does to your brain.
Short-Term Effects
When someone uses meth, they're exposing their body to a wide range of negative side effects right away. Many of these side effects are in response to noradrenaline.
Here are some of the short-term effects of meth:
Awful breath
Clenched jaw
Decreased appetite
Long-Term Effects
While the short-term meth usage effects list was pretty damaging, the long-term use list is much more severe.
Cardiovascular damage
Cognitive issues
Kidney damage
Meth mites and sores
Mood disturbances
When people use meth chronically and become addicted, their body becomes tolerant and requires more meth to stay functional. At this point, if the user stops using meth, they'll go into withdrawal.
What Does Meth Do to Your Brain?
Now that you understand how damaging meth can be to your overall health, we're going to delve more into how meth damages your brain.
Kills Glial Cells
Glial cells are a significant part of the central nervous system. They're responsible for signaling capacities, fighting infections, and developing myelin cells.
The use of meth damages and kills these cells throughout areas in your brain, but especially in your prefrontal cortex. This is the part of the brain that allows you to pay attention, think abstractly, make judgment calls, and make plans.
Therefore, the use of methamphetamines will negatively impact your cognitive abilities.
Decreases Myelin Cells
Myelin cells, also called white matter, play an important role in signaling between neurons. These cells are responsible for many basic functions of the central nervous system.
Methamphetamine kills glial cells, which are responsible for developing myelin cells. Therefore there will be more functional mistakes, lacking effective communicators in the central nervous system.
Less Dopamine and Serotonin
When you use meth, it forces your brain to use its stored dopamine. Chronic use can deplete your dopamine and serotonin, leaving you prone to dramatic mood effects.
Neurotoxic Effects
The use of methamphetamines increases the amount of glutamate calcium in the brain. Glutamate calcium is associated with neurotoxic effects that will damage the dendrites on neurons.
Damage to the dendrites will prevent the neurons from being able to communicate properly. This will cause various issues for both cognitive and motor functions.
Treatment for Meth Addiction
Because of the severe effects that come with meth withdrawal, the likelihood of relapse, in the beginning, is high. That's why addiction treatment is so important.
Our meth addiction treatment focuses on getting you medically detoxed from methamphetamines away from the stresses of everyday life.
We use holistic methods and behavioral therapies to help patients change their perceptions of themselves and the world.
Recovering from addiction is a long road, but it starts once you've decided to quit. If you're looking for reasons to quit for yourself or to help someone else, understanding the danger of methamphetamines is a good start.
Now that you know all about meth's effects and "what does meth do to your brain?" has been answered, you're better informed to decide if you or someone you love needs help.
Our inpatient meth rehab program accepts most insurance, so you or a loved one can focus on recovering in a safe environment under the care of trained professionals. Reach out to us for a free insurance verification to see how you can start your recovery journey.
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text:
My dearest, most loving, inspiring and unconditionally supportive readers / fellow bloggers.
As you contemplate your next blog post, or better still, write one, I embark upon a path of bereavement from all you kind friends. I say bereavement because my blog is the only means to our attachment. I wish I could have enjoyed your loving company beyond my blog. And I write this blog letter to you humbly pleading my inability to write.
But this isn't about hitting a block as much as it is about feeling detached and demotivated. Those words, those voices and those many variegated sentiments that command me to lift my pen or punch the keys of my notebook, have deserted me. I stand derelict, abandoned. I remember a dear friend asking me once as to what compels me to write. I had swiftly replied 'For peace'. To allay his resultant perplexity I'd explained to him that I do not find solace until I have obediently conveyed the joys, the pathos, the relevant tragedies, and conflicts of souls and challenge to human spirit of the characters who swirl inside my mind. That's my motivation and presently I stand robbed of that motivation.
That's part of the story. The other half incurably completes my difficulty. This is because when I do intermittently hear those ideas, themes, stories churning inside my head. They just don't seem to be able to negotiate well enough with my expressive side. As the writer is trapped between this alienation of affection, a story, an article, a poem dies before being born.
This tires me. And I don't believe in conjuring up a will to express and coercing myself to adhere to some sort of discipline of verbalization of that which I do not feel. After all this is not a business I'm running, where I have to play by the murky and manipulative norms in order to stay afloat. Art, if my writings are any close to it, cannot be dictated. It has to be born out of my love of things,my romance with life, and my sensing of the pain in tragedy of strangers, and most importantly, my expressions comforting that sensitivity by being their faithful guide to articulation. The want of such harmony stalls me. It vexes me and I stare annoyingly longer at the wall opposite to me than pursuing my art.
I'll be away from blogging for some time. I wish I could tell you for how long. I may well write something in the next hour, or may suffer my present predicament for a week, a couple of months or till my last breathe. Since I cannot be sure of our reunion I must say now that all of you will ever remain my cherished friends. There have been a few special ones who have shown the patience of a true companion by telling me about my compositions each and every time without fail. Others, have been equally significant in sharing their thoughts and according to me the status of a writer through their encouraging reviews & constructive censure. But what you've really given me is something that you have no idea about. In a small yet unforgettable way you've made my existence worthwhile. And that's not an exaggeration. If I ever make it back I'll zealously expect it again from all of you.
_ Anupam Patra wrote this on 10/30/2012 12:03:00 am 66 comments:
Something I Made
I shot this video few months back.
Theme A short musical which focuses on a day in the life of a young man who's unsure of his
aspirations and keeps moving between various places. His lack of aim is manifest in his
vagabond ways. Ultimately, he ends up before the abode of God seeking answers.
Featuring Sourav S. (Guddu) as the Vagabond
Music wandererinthemidst (Youtube User Name)
Watch "Soul's A Vagabond"
_ Anupam Patra wrote this on 10/29/2012 09:07:00 am 4 comments:
I'm striving infinite
To call a truce
With my master - Life
"I'll not wish, dream or yearn"
And from despair,
He shall save me, in return
_ Anupam Patra wrote this on 10/26/2012 10:31:00 pm 20 comments:
Labels: Musing
"Heroes..there's no such thing"....Iron Man 3
Hope this deals with the kind of character exploration as did the first 'Iron Man'.
Ben Kingsley plays the villain
Enjoy the trailer
To Be Released On 3.5.2013
Labels: Iron Man 3, Movie
White & Grey
Stop halt hold wait
Pause those thoughts, I said
Clear command disobeyed
What's with the head ?
A ruckus and bliss it holds
Per its whims these are sold
Me being its master
Rendered slave to its fold
Sunday Slipping....
Many people I know, like to treat their Sundays, with a certain ostensible laidbackness and detachment, savouring the day's inability to offer challenge and goals, basking in languid abandon of hectic or mundane pursuits. Not me. I like to make the most of my Sunday. It's so precious for me that I invariably wake up at 5 on Sunday mornings, regardless of the cool respite (in summers) or the chilling breeze (in winters) that it brings along. This is the day when I consciously live minutely yet leisurely every moment that awaits me.
Let me confess that I'm paranoid about wasting a Sunday. I can't waste Sundays, I don't. So in furtherance of my ambition I start my the day very early. I saunter out of my house, wander in the garden as if I'm lost in wonderland. A bystander could easily mistake my cherished rapport with nature for some philosophical melodrama, perceiving me as a harebrained being who pretends interacting with the flora around him. I wish I could bare my heart and convey to him my heartfelt pleasure within nature's embrace. Something revives between me and the plants, grass, birds and even the air around me on a Sunday. I somehow stand stripped of that sensibility on other days. Perhaps nature has its own ego to handle. May be, like me it is equally capable of retorting with 'If I don't matter to you then you don't matter to me.' Perhaps that's the the reason why I'm never privy to the magnificence of nature's splendor on days when I'm busy giving my mind far greater priority than I give to my heart.
All of this equation goes for a toss on Sundays and old friends meet like lovers, unable to get enough of each other. Even butterflies hover around me and birds seem to fathom my language and leaves and petals feel the affection in my touch for sure. After I have somewhat quenched my week long thirst, I return for a detached and formal indulgence in commonplace activities only to be able to fully offer myself to my private pursuits. I don't even throw a glance at my engine powered vehicles. I either reconnect with my bicycle or even better, I walk. Hearing the zillion sounds that otherwise dodge my ears and seeing those countless tiny events that unfold regardless of being revered and marveled the way they ought to be, I admire this world and the omnipresent beauty that fills it.
I do not even watch Television as I consider it a criminal waste of a Sunday. Sunday is my rendezvous with everyone and everything that I desire and yet never attain despite being a free person. How therefore, can I ever let anything else, small or big, claim me. Let me just say in one line what I wish to so urgently convey. While on other days I wish time flew, on a Sunday I wish it froze.
Now, there is bad side to every good thing and the worst part of a Sunday is evening and the time thereafter where one miserly spends the remnants of his favourite day of the week, dreading over the inevitable prospect that in a matter of hours it would stand six days away.
Having confessed about my intimacy with Sunday let me tell you why I'm blogging about in the first place, except the obvious relevance of doing it on a Sunday. As I got up to a aggravating wrong call on my mobile phone at 3 AM today, I could not sleep for quite sometime dwelling on the fear that if I slept then, I might not be able to conform to my ritual of waking up early as I normally do. So I set the alarm to a 5 AM ring and reluctantly shut my eyes.
I woke up at about 11 A.M.
I didn't even know how to move when I saw the 'seconds' hand of my wall clock mockingly going about its job as the other two lay plastered over each other at about an inch away from the '12' sign. I found myself crushed between rage and exhaustion. I turned to my alarm clock for an investigation and was devastated to learn that its speakers had been inadvertently buried into the dense cushion which must have absorbed all its frantic cries obediently emitted by it on time. Swallowing my despair I politely asked my family the cause for not waking me up till so late in the day. I was told that they had to choose between letting me go about my Sunday routine or make an exception considering that I had returned late from my tour last night and after a fair deliberation they had resorted to the latter.
Can I now - please - at the top of my voice - without holding back - yell - " D A R N" ?
Ages & eons, trivial
'fore the endlessness of
What I'd to out - wait.
My pining perseverance
Despised & extolled
Eventually it earned 'Yes I do'
To A Conjurer..
'Pretend not, your affections
So much,
That in just a day,
Bushed you lay'
_ Anupam Patra wrote this on 10/18/2012 10:09:00 pm 7 comments:
Labels: Love, Unreal
Pledge not heavens and moons
Pledge not the hills and stars
Just hold me when I seek
And kiss my scars
Picture Courtesy - dipity.com
Labels: Love, Musing, Poem, Relationship
A Reminder For States Where 'Khaps' Are Thriving
There is no disputing the deplorable truth, that the lawful Government of States, where something utterly unlawful as 'Khap' panchayats are thriving unabashedly, are in denial of the related perils. From the various things that we have been hearing, watching and reading about the recent illegalities committed by the Khaps, nothing further remains to be said. It is not at all complex to ascertain, that the Khaps are perpetrating crimes. Therefore the only thing that now needs to be done is to remind these State Governments about the legal duty incumbent upon it in this whole episode, hoping that in order to save their own skin they won't be as dismissive about the issue as they are being now.
The following reminder purports to be succinct yet highly relevant
When 'Khaps' issue threats and / or warnings to the villagers with dire consequences in case they didn't follow their illegal commands, such acts of the 'Khap' can atleast be squarely brought under the offence of criminal intimidation as defined under Section 503 read with Section 506 of the IPC.
503. Criminal intimidation.—Whoever threatens another with any injury to his
person, reputation or property, or to the person or reputation of any one in whom that
person is interested, with intent to cause alarm to that person, or to cause that person
to do any act which he is not legally bound to do, or to omit to do any act which that
person is legally entitled to do, as the means of avoiding the execution of such threat,
commits criminal intimidation.
506. Punishment for criminal intimidation.—Whoever commits the offence of
criminal intimidation shall be punished with imprisonment of either description for a
term which may extend to two years, or with fine, or with both. If threat be to cause
death or grievous hurt, etc.—and if the threat be to cause death or grievous hurt, or
to cause the destruction of any property by fire, or to cause an offence punishable with
death or imprisonment for life, or with imprisonment for a term which may extend to
seven years, or to impute unchastity to a woman, shall be punished with
imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to seven years, or
with fine, or with both.
It is equally relevant to remind the concerned authorities about Section 40 of our Code of Criminal Procedure which casts the following duties :-
Section 40. Duty of officers employed in connection with the affairs of a village (see below for meaning) to make certain report
(1) Every officer employed in connection with the affairs of a village and every person residing in a village shall forthwith communicate to the nearest Magistrate or to the officer in charge of the nearest police station, whichever is nearer, any information which he may possess respecting—
(a) *********
(b) *********
(c) the commission of, or intention to commit, in or near such village any non-bailable offence or any offence punishable under Section 143 (Making an unlawful assembly), Section 144 (Making an unlawful assembly armed with deadly weapons), Section 145 (Joining or continuing in an unl;awful assembly knowing that it has been commanded to disperse), Section 147 (Rioting), or Section 148 (Rioting armed with deadly weapons) of the Indian Penal Code ;
(d) the occurrence in or near such village of any sudden or unnatural death or of any death under suspicious circumstances or the discovery in or near such village of any corpse or part of a corpse, in circumstances which lead to a reasonable suspicion that such a death has occurred or the disappearance from such village of any person in circumstances which lead to a reasonable suspicion that a non-bailable offence has been committed in respect of such person ;
(e) *****
(f) ******
(i) "village" includes village-lands ;
(ii) *******
(iii) the words "officer employed in connection with the affairs of the village" means a member of the Panchayat of the village and includes the headman and every officer or other person appointed to perform any function connected with the administration of the village.
Apart from the clear legal provisions which the Khaps violate, the said Pnachayats are also in direct violation of the Supreme Court's directives which had declared them to be outright illegal. In its wisdom, the Hon'ble Supreme Court, on a relevant occasion directed the administrative and police officials to take strong measures to prevent any atrocious acts perpetrated by the Khaps.
Court's Warning - The Hon'ble Court had categorically stated that "if any such incidents happen, apart from instituting criminal proceedings against those responsible for such atrocities, the State government concerned is directed to immediately suspend the District Magistrate/Collector and the SSP/SPs of the district as well as other officials concerned and chargesheet them and proceed against them departmentally if they do not prevent the incident if it has not already occurred but they have knowledge of it in advance,or if it has occurred, they do not promptly apprehend the culprits and others involved and institute criminal proceedings against them, as, in our opinion, they will be deemed directly or indirectly accountable in this connection"
(The Court had directed that a copy of it's judgment be sent to all Chief Secretaries, Home Secretaries and Directors-General of Police in all States and Union Territories, and circulated to all officers up to the level of District Magistrates and SSP/SP for strict compliance. )
Therefore it's high time that someone moved the Hon'ble Supreme Court or the Hon'ble State High Court of the concerned state against the accountable Government officials, on the strength of the aforementioned legal provisions and / or the aforestated directive of the Apex Court in the wake of recent atrocities perpetrated by the Khaps.
Labels: Article, Crime, Khap Panchayat, Society
Dreams & After..
Insomniac, I wondered.
I confronted my fear
For sleeping and dreaming
But found,
What terrified me most
Was afterwards waking.
Committed...
Entwined by fate
together by choice
they seek bliss
in million miseries
Labels: Commitment, Love, Musing
Am I ...
Am I he, who smiles at humour
Or the cynic who spots the lie
The ambitious who strives for ends
Or the purist who prizes means
Am I he, whose heart fell in love
Or whose body longed for another
The one who pined for that company
Or was it, for solitude, he feared
Am I he who competes
Or the coward who surrenders
The one who runs to win
Or one of the gullible dreamers
Am I the one who deceives
Or the saint who suffers truth
The one who believes in the light
Or who's simply afraid of the dark
Am I split or singular
In places one or plural
He who flourishes
Or the doomed who perishes
Breathing here and drowned there
The sands I stand on,
With me, are they ridden ?
The faces, at me, that smile
Does nothing lie beneath the sheen ?
Is there something - anything
Of me, when I'm gone, worth recalling
Picture Courtesy - http://www.flickr.com/photos/joshslash/6240211080/
Labels: Poetry, Self, Soul
Soni Sori (Justice Forgotten)
By reason of the work I do, I've nurtured the instinct of not jumping to conclusions without ample facts reasonably establishing the truth of a particular allegation. Having said that when the indications and suggestions are palpably horrifying and inhuman, the least that is expected to be done is a prompt, fair and unbiased investigation into those indications and suggestions to swiftly unravel the truth. For that to be achieved, the more serious the allegations, the higher is the requirement of impartiality in investigation.
I read something on The Standing Coin which kept me awake last night. Every time I wanted to sleep, something punched my insides, reminding me of the gut wrenching allegations of injustice and suffering I had read and seen.
I've quoted hereinbelow the article Soni Sori Justice Forgotten written by the prolific author Siddharth Gupta. (He blogs at The Standing Coin). It's impossible to feel what I felt without watching the full video that Siddharth has shared in his article. Please watch it patiently.
A woman's fight against violence, abuse and in all its essence, society has always been a war against patriarchy. We would be foolish in saying that the structure of our society is equally balanced. Although women are the heads to the tails of our coin, they have never been given the respect, the value and truly the love they deserve.
The question here is not about the statistics. All of us know that they are shocking enough. The point here arises is WHY? Why doesn't this stop? Although the past few years have seen a remarkable rise in awareness about female rights and this entire topic at hand, disturbing occurrences still destroy our beliefs as the fantastical world shatters. Some of the incidents are simply disgusting, horrifying and in the crudest of terms, makes one want to puke. Despite the guaranteeing of women rights by International laws, women still continue to be treated as third class citizens in a second class world.
One of the most disturbing cases I have come across is that of Soni Sori. Soni Sori is a simple adivasi schoolteacher from Chattisgarh, India. A small rehash, Chattisgarh is notorious for its Naxal activities. Sori along with her nephew was arrested and sent to Raipur jail in October 2011. Ignoring the frivolous and ridiculous charges framed against her, Soni Sori was sexually abused and tortured by the police force. To elaborate on the brutal, inhumane violation of her human rights, let me inform you of the QUESTIONING methods used by the police. She was electrocuted on multiple occasions with wires being connected to her bare toes. She was stripped naked and was made to answer questions while police officers, including the Superintendent of Police, Ankit Garg leered at her. He forced her to stand naked while he sat on a chair and abused her in filthy terms. After this, he sent in three police men to sexually assault her which went on for hours. No one knows what happens and many dismiss this as allegations, a known fact is that after finding Sori in a near comatose state, she was taken to Kolkata Medical College where doctors removed STONES from her vagina and rectum. It appalls me and disgusts me that the Indian Police Force is run by such sick and disgusting bastards!
Reading Soni Sori's Letter From Prison
This is not the entire story. Despite such horrendous acts, Ankit Garg received the Police Medal for Gallantry from the President of India in 2012. To answer strong protests, all the police had to offer was "The Sori case is a different matter". Yeah, it's like saying let a person nab a goon and murder or rape a few women but wait! We DO need to reward him for grabbing the goon right? Also, Sori is a mother. She has three children. Imagine their plight. Imagine her husband's plight. Thanks to a spirited letter by about 250 famed activists to the Prime Minister on 30 April 2012, Soni was taken to the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, New Delhi for treating her horrendous injuries.
Sadly, Sori is still in prison. In a battle of getting FDI, the government has failed to make Internal Direct Investment. Women grovel, as our minstrels cry. Tehelka, a hardcore journalism magazine, started an online campaign to guarantee justice for Soni. The links are attached below. Please do your bit and help. I hope we change. Soon, Fast and Now.
CLICK HERE TO SIGN TEHELKA'S PETITION TO SECURE JUSTICE FOR SONI SORI
I obviously have no means of knowing the truth behind these allegations found in the article quoted above. But as a citizen of a nation, which is committed to democratic and welfare ideals, especially emancipation of women, I strongly demand and expect an effective and unbiased investigation into such accusations of brutal atrocities, as the least that can be done for Soni Sori at the moment, besides of course giving a sincere and serious consideration to removing her from the jail in the state of Chattisgarh and putting her (only if her custody is really necessary) under humane conditions in some jail of any other state.
Labels: Article, Crime, Cruelty, Democracy, Injustice, Jail, Naxalite, Police Atrocity, Soni Sori, Torture, Tribal
Let me tread alone,
I must meet myself
Before he's buried,
Breathless in the storm
Adele At Her Scintillating Best.....Again
Skyfall - 007 James Bond
Lose Yourself ....
Hold your breath and count to ten
Feel the earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again
For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamed this moment
So overdue, I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen
Let the sky fall, when it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together
At skyfall
Skyfall is where we start
A thousand miles and poles apart
When worlds collide, and days are dark
You may have my number, you can take my name
But you'll never have my heart
Where you go I go,
What you see I see
I know I'll never be me, without the security
Are your loving arms
Keeping me from harm
Put your hand in my hand
And we'll stand
Let the sky fall
Labels: 007, Adele, James Bond, Movies, Music, Skyfall
You Know My Name....
When Chris Cornell's chart topper 'You Know My Name' (the theme song for Daniel Craig starrer 007 James Bond - Casino Royale ) released, I instantly lost myself to it's swagger.
'Skyfall' (sung by Adele from 007's latest installment 'Skyfall' may be the current chant, but "You Know My Name" will always be something else...magically relevant to 007 fiction...ever.
My favourite lines
"......................
I've seen angels fall from blinding heights
But you yourself are nothing so divine
Just next in line
Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
The odds will betray you
And I will replace you
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you
It longs to kill you
Are you willing to die? .....
And of course
"..The coldest blood runs through my veins
You know my name.."
Here's the official video of the song for those who haven't heard it and for all Chris Donnell fans
Labels: Movies, Music
Across seas, hills, and woods
I've winged ahead
They offered me all that there was
Tempting me to halt
I've flown to you still
'Cuz that's how it has been
Since my childhood rein
Shed your drops in our honour, please !!
Labels: Musing, Poetry
Lone stringed flier
Amid a flock of feathers;
The impostor evades and ducks
The guardians of clouds
Soaring in pretense
Of spanning the heavens;
Alas ! It could only rise
To the tallest roof
Lured to deem itself worthy
Of the infinite citadel
And mimicking the wings;
It's but slave to a mere string
Labels: Kites, Musing, Poetry, Pretense
Quintessential Sonu Nigam... After A Long Time
Song Title: Apna Mujhe Tu Laga
Music Director: Chirantan Bhatt
Lyrics: Shakeel Azmi
Singer(s): Sonu Nigam
Movie: 1920 – Evil Returns (2012) (Release Date 2nd November, 2012)
Haven't heard Sonu sing like this, since long. Reminds me of my college days when the whole country had gone nuts over his singing in 'Deewana', 'Jaan' and 'Yaad'.
Eagerly waiting for the release of the soundtrack
"Jaanu na main
Tujh mein mera
Hissa hai kya..
Par ajnabi
Apna mujhe tu laga
Jaanu na main
Tujh se mera
Rishta hai kya..
Apna mujhe tu laga"
Labels: Movie, Music, Songs, Sonu Nigam
Phase by phase
Bit by bit
Per its will and whims,
Time is living me
Picture - navidh.deviantart.com
Deserted by my shadow;
Such is my solitude
'What the heck do you think you are doing ?' a furious Anand raged. 'Flee or stay till I thrash you into pulp' he warned. The neighbourhood bullies scurried away. The scoundrels had resorted to their reprehensible antic of pulling down the dangling trouser of the harebrained Jaga. The target of their mockery stood shell shocked, stuttering hard to mouth the right words. Unlike the brain inside his head, his perfectly normal legs were trembling out of weakness. To his childlike wits, pulling up his pants at that moment seemed as complex as building a spaceship. So his fallen pants remained vanquished at his feet and he began to weep like a toddler. It provided for a perfect dose of laughter for the gathering around him. The customers of the nearby betel shop and grocery store were visibly amused by the sadistic hilarity in Jaga's humiliation. All laughd in chorus.
Anand rushed to Jaga's aid. He placed his briefcase by his side and bent down to lift the latter's pants, which sat crumpled on his feet screaming to be restored to its proper position. Anand never tolerated anyone tormenting or ridiculing Jaga. Nor did he ever reply to the hackneyed question as to why he was so protective of Jaga, causing a pervasive suspicion that he was privy to some covert cause. But the truth simply was that Anand felt so outraged over the disgraceful repetition of such insensitive query that he invariably chose to stay quiet, instead of spitting on their faces the simple answer that as a man it was his rudimentary purpose to prevent undue harassment to another, more so when that poor soul was one who could not tell the difference between sun and moon.
A year ago when Anand had arrived at Sunrise Colony, with a truck load of furniture, surveying the area for the correct address of his soon to be home and to join his first employment, he was quite affable to the people of the locality. At thirty Anand had no intention of getting married and starting a family. He had made up his mind that, unlike his friends, he was going to devote his life to the upliftment of the needy and impoverished, instead of reconciling with the unexciting and commonplace way of life. As a first step he had offered to serve an organisation which had similar goals. They pay was minimal but he didn't care. Money wasn't a problem. He had been bequeathed dizzying amount of wealth from his industrialist grandfather.
In the beginning, Anand was not so acerbic on the tormentors of the social pariah that Jaga was. But soon Anand repeatedly noticed that almost every passerby somehow considered it his inviolable entitlement to deride Jaga in one manner or another. It wasn't as if he didn't suppress his natural revulsion against the whole affair. However, when he confronted his conscience he held himself equally guilty for not raising his voice in protest. That moment onwards, Anand dutifully stood between Jaga and anyone who purported to trouble him. He even tried to reason with the incorrigible frolic mongers that it's unkind to treat anyone in their manner, hypothetically putting them and their family members in Jaga's position. He realized that he was wasting his time. The only difficulty was that Anand could not remain around Jaga at all times.
Anand was most disturbed upon knowing that, though the plight of Jaga was a household tale of the whole community, none treated him with the love he deserved. Forget love, on the contrary they made him their amusement toy. The priest of their temple, Madhav Babu, had found him as fragile as a sapling, fully wrapped in a thin white linen sheet of cloth, leaving his pink face adorned by his gem like eyes and his pursed lips, hanging to its life by a thin thread. Madhav babu was strolling down the flight of temple stairs to make his customary walk around the deity chanting hymns of dawn puja, when for no apparent reason he felt like peeping inside the small dark chamber just around the corner. The murky cavity which was used as a dump yard for unused material had sheltered a newborn life. The priest forthwith took Jaga in his arms and strolled out under light and checked for signs of life in its tiny form. He was assured of it when he noticed his furtive breathing. He wasted no time in taking him to their community health centre where the Lord Almighty not only restored to him his life but also ensured that the child would have the love of a father. Thence the priest and Jaga lived under the same roof provided by the temple committee where the former became inextricably entwined to his fate of being a devoted father to Jaga, who was given up for dead by his own. As time passed Jaga's frame grew stronger and he looked healthy and fit with no hint of his endangered infancy presenting itself about his appearance. But it didn't take long for his kin to discover that he wasn't mentally able as other children. His mind hadn't kept pace with his age. At fifteen he had the brains of a five year old.
Many blamed it on providence, many on past life sins and many figured that it could be the result of the lack of mother's milk. Madhav babu was unable to cope with this misery. He had invested his dreams of being succeeded by his adopted son but that hope was reduced into a mirage with his son's newfound disability. It was too much for the ageing man and he took ill. A man's old age is perhaps livened by his family and his children's prosperity. That was not to be in the priest's case. Dark imaginings and sorrow took their toll on him. He reduced into a living straw and finally one stormy night he breathed his last. The whole night Jaga sat besides his father rambling to him unsure of what to make of his still lying frame. The next day his body was cremated on the banks of the Mahanadi. Everyone returned except Jaga who sat their for two days clueless as to where his father had vanished from the pyre. When he strolled back, life was not the same for him. The pitiless society blamed him for the priest's demise. They ostracized him. The doors of the temple room were forever closed for him. He was banished, back to nature's lap. He found shelter under the large Peepul tree in the center of the colony where he remained resigned to his dreadful fate, surviving on scraps thrown in by a kind few. Till the powers that rule providence sent Anand as his saviour.
On a bright autumn morning as Jaga lay gaily immersed in his senile delusions , Chintu and his partners in crime hurled a bagful of cow dung at Jaga. The poor chap was startled from his sleep as if earthquake had jolted him. He woke up to find the smelly waste smeared all over his shrunken belly. Anand saw this. Outraged, he threw his handbag where he stood and rolled up his sleeves readying himself to catch hold of the rogues and give them the beating of their lives. But being alien to the geography of the area, he looked helplessly as the scoundrels melted into the myriad lanes and by lanes of the neighbourhood. The next day he ensured that Chintu's pristinely shining white school uniform was given the same treatment that its wearer had meted out to the innocent Jaga. He waited till Chintu got down his father's scooter, waved him good bye and sauntered along the pathway towards the school gate. Just when the rogue was about to step inside, Anand took a perfect aim at him and forcefully flinged a polyethene bag brimming with fresh manure at him. It landed exactly where it was supposed to. The dung lay plastered on his spotless shirt, partially dripping down to his feet. The whole gathering around him broke into laughter. Anand emerged from his hiding and strolled towards a stunned Chintu.
The gang was never going to take this insult of their leader, lying down. So they beat Jaga black and blue, a night later. Leaving his arms and face swollen beyond recognition. When Anand saw this he swore then and there that he wasn't going to leave Jaga at the mercy of his tormentors. He took him in, & let him live with him. He held his hands and guided him inside his house. He fed him warm soup and boiled rice. He took a close look at his wounds and applied ointment on them. They stayed together from that day onwards. Anand purchased a set of toys for Jaga to keep him from straying out of his house in his absence. He didn't feel embarrassed at all when he bought those in a large transparent polythene bag for his seventeen year old friend. Jaga fell in love with the toys. He would play with them for hours when Anand was away. When he came back from work, he would take him out for a stroll under his watch.
Soon the neighbours stopped troubling Jaga. Word of Anand and Jaga's friendship spread far and wide. People in the locality began to revere Anand. Persons who dismissed Jaga as a madman began inquiring from Anand about his well being. Such was his unadulterated and unpretentious sincerity in caring back for Anand, that the latter claimed he'd found a true friend in Jaga. People started paying visits to Anand's house and many even wanted to say 'Hello' to Jaga. When summoned by Anand, he would come out and offer a perfected namaskar to their doting guests, and quickly amble back into his room. Women prepared special dishes and sent them over for the friends. At times when Jaga remained adamant not to open his mouth for a morsel, Anand would announce that he too wouldn't touch his food and conjure up an act of pain in his stomach. Within moments, Jaga would surrender, assume his favourite lotus position ready to be fed. During idle Sunday noons a relieved Anand would loudly sing songs of friendship and Jaga would incoherently join him.
At times when Jaga would be engrossed arranging and rearranging the plastic puzzles Anand would confide in him about his inner feelings. He would tell him that he understood his destitution as he himself was an orphan. He would often caress Jaga's head when he'd be fidgety and scared for no reason. Jaga would wake him up in the middle of night pulling his hands demanding him to take him for a walk outside. It would take a great deal of explaining and cajoling for Anand to convince him against his wish. Despite many inconveniences and annoying antics of Jaga, Anand never regretted having brought him along. When it would rain with gurgling thunder and blinding flashes of lightning, Jaga would hug Anand tightly and sit close to him. Anand would always quickly return his embrace. With passing time, Anand discovered certain remarkable traits in his friend. He came to know that Jaga was an avid observer and a quick learner. Whenever he had to hurry for his office without performing cleaning chores, he often returned to notice that his bed and other places were pristine, his dishes and sheets put exactly the way he normally kept them. Jaga remembered the names of birds and animals that he'd told him. The two friends would secretly make fun of a few chosen men of their colony and their peculiar funny habits and mannerisms. In the best of his days, Jaga would even mimic the most funny ones, whatever he remembered of it. He often pleasantly surprised Anand with his ability to remember about the latter's most annoying habits. Anand was elated. He couldn't have asked for more.
A year had passed since the day Jaga was ushered into Anand's house And the latter was always curious to know about Jaga's actual date of birth. But he never asked anyone. He'd been toying with the idea of celebrating his pal's birthday and once when the two friends were lost in banter, Anand declared ' I don't know when exactly you were born, but let's just celebrate the day we began to share this roof over our heads, as your birthday. It'd be a celebration of our friendship too. What do you say ?' Anand wasn't quite sure if his friend understood his message. The latter simply looked out of the window and said "Sky.. Big Sky". 'Yes, that's a big sky my friend just about as big as your heart.' replied a smirking Anand. He got ready in a jiffy and announced to him that he'd be back in an hour with his favourite cartoon toys from T.V. and ofcourse unputdownably delicious snacks. Jaga was unduly adamant that Sunday evening to accompany Anand. Anand had to speak a few harsh words to quiet him down. Something he regretted all the way he walked to their town's most busy Chinese restaurant. He would make it upto him when he got back, he assured himself.
But the delightful soul that Jaga was, soon forgot his savior's chides and became busy in conducting a fierce talon fight between a rubber dinosaur and a plastic dragon. A few hours later when Jaga was in the loving arms of sleep which had rescued him from boredom, a relentless rapping on the door jostled him out of it's embalming hold. When he opened the door he saw two uniformed policemen posted outside like twin poles. He quickly dropped his toys and raised his left hand to salute them. Realizing his mistake he immediately put down his left hand and raised his right. He'd learnt about it during the Republic Day parade at the town gallery, where he had accompanied Anand. He remembered how uniformed men like the ones standing before him gave and took salutes. He was a bit perplexed when no salute was returned by them. Even more puzzled were the two gentlemen who received the honour. One of them strolled inside after important queries by him weren't replied with any rational answer by Jaga. His eyes fell on a framed photograph of Anand, which he surveyed it with rapt attention. Then he turned around to show it to his colleague, who took a deep breathe after taking a good look at it.
A police van in an untimely hour in front of the most unlikely house of their peaceful colony had naturally attracted a small crowd. The elderly men of the locality curiously gawked at the Policemen and the women stood far behind them trying to figure what was going on. Why had the Police come to Anand's house ? they wondered and exchanged hisses among themselves. The Officer came outside with Anand's photograph and quickly swapped his glances between it and what looked like a small card sized document and asked the crowd aloud
'Is this man Anand Majhitia ? And does he live in this house ?'
'Yes..yes' came the half hearted chorus reply.
'Where is his family ?' he continued probing
'He has none Sir' replied the grey bearded man standing just near him.
'And who is this man ?' the officer asked pointing his finger at Jaga.
'That's Jaga Sir. But he's not Anand's relative. They are just fiends, living in one house.' the same man answered gleefully.
'I need to take him to the Police Station' said the officer.
'He's of no use Sir. He's a lunatic.' someone objected.
The officer took a good look at Jaga and nodded his head as if he now understood where the salute came from.
'' Someone has to come to the Station' he announced with pretentious regret
'But why Sir ? What's he done ?' the same old man asked
'Just come.' the officer blurted dismissively.
The van roared to life as two of Anand's neighbours hopped inside it following the officers. It sped away with the rest of the onlookers trailing it's dwindling form swallowed by smoke and dust. Jaga strolled back inside the house and shut its doors.
At the entrance of the Police Station a white mini van was parked. The men got down from the vehicle and were led to the back of the mini van. A constable rushed and flung it's doors open. The two men who had accompanied the officers hissed and damned and turned their heads away aghast. Anand lay still inside it, on a decrepit stretcher covered with starched white cloth upto his neck. Had it not been for his still chest, one could not have said whether the man was in slumber or asleep for good.
What happened Sir ? asked one of the men in between stutters.
'He was hit by a speeding car. Probably died on spot.'
This time Jaga was inconsolable when he saw his friend being torched. When his adoptive father had left him, death was not an idea that his mind had known then. But today, even for a feeble minded fellow like him, flaring up the body of his friend was beyond his tolerance. How could he stand and watch while they burnt his friend. It took three sturdy men to subdue his relentless attempts at salvaging his friend's blazing body. Only when it had been fully devoured by the insanely dancing flames and the bits of his flesh and bone had been reduced to smoking ash, Jaga was let off. He howled for an hour, sure of his loss. Like an infant deserted by his mother, thrown into the dark confines of nothingness, with no light to guide him, with no hand to caress him during hopelessness, no gentle voice to reassure him and no one to shelter him from his fears, forsaken and forlorn he cried and cried till the source of his tears dried up. Someone saw him lying unconscious and brought him to his residence. People feared that miseries would return swiftly to Jaga's life, when he would open his eyes, now that his friend, his liberator had abandoned him, once again leaving his survival to the mercy of the cruel. But Anand didn't abandon his friend. To even think of such a thing was to disgrace the great soul that he was.
Anand had made his friend the nominee for receiving twenty five lakh rupees of his insurance policy. But confident of the fact the he'd be swindled, he had put all of it in a trust constituted in Jaga's favour and made its trustee his mentor cum boss Mr. Bimal Mishra, the man who also ran "Sharan', a philanthropic organization for the care and upliftment of abandoned and forsaken children. The fifteen paged 'Trust Deed' stipulated that the money could only be spent on his treatment, education and if need be other of his necessary expenses. So that he could attain the best flight to his destination with dignity. Anand had never disclosed that he'd purchased the house where they lived and that he had made a will whereby it now stood tranfserred in Jaga's name, also protected by the trust, in case Anand's allies turned against him. At no cost he could have gone without ensuring a roof over his beloved friend's head.
A week later Mr. Bimal won over Jaga and convinced him to come with him to 'Sharan'. Jaga now resides there in a cozy quarter allotted to him. How soon time flies. Jaga has managed to find his laughter. He is adored by all his mates at 'Sharan', as much for his affability as for the fact that he was the great Anand's friend. After all Anand had been Bimal babu's most hardworking deputee in building 'Sharan' from scratch to what it is today. He deeply connected with all the teenagers living under 'Sharan's roof. Though many times Bimal babu asked him to bring Jaga there, Anand had respectfully denied saying that he needed his personal care, concealing within himself the truth that he too needed Jaga's company.
When Anand is reminisced at 'Sharan', Jaga keenly listens to the tales of his dear departed friend and smiles over whatever he understands of it. They also ask him about their friendship. He is unable to answer, yet. Many have spotted him staring infinitely at the garlanded portrait of his friend, put up on the wall of the auditorium. As if the two are engrossed in a clandestine communication. Memories of his friend are not hard for him to recall. They are the only good memories he has in his life. They are immortally etched in his mind just as the eternal sun and stars painted on the heavenly canvass.
He has recently begun his lessons on English alphabets and he enjoys it to the core. It's fast sharpening his mind. Someday he'll find smartness. He has abundant good wishes pushing him ahead to that goal. He loves being at 'Sharan' but misses his home where countless memories lie bundled. They await for him to return to them. He plans the same.
** ' Timeless ' is a work of fiction.and any resemblance in it with any person, place or incident is purely coincidental.
_ Anupam Patra wrote this on 9/30/2012 04:24:00 am 14 comments:
Labels: Faith, Fiction, Friends, Hope, Joy, Life, Sacrifice, Story, Tragedy
'I love you Sir' she sighed.
'What ? You do ? he queried with unconcealed sense of victory.
She nodded shyly.
'Come'on Zoya. You know I'm married. ' he tested her
'I don't care. I just..I just love you' she reiterated, unfazed.
'You're so beautiful and smart. What can a middle aged loser give you. You can get any dashing man any day' he replied, intending to corner her.
'I want you' she fumed
'Ok tell me why?' he queried with apparent sincerity.
She fell on his feet and raised her head like his devotee, demurely receiving his glare and said 'What do you want to know Sir. That I have been fancying your admiration since the day you walked into our branch office as our new Manager?. That I've been, ever since, dreaming to be cosseted by you. That your eloquent introduction to your own self still reverberates in my ears ? That you've unparalleled intelligence, besides an incredible personality and looks that tell of a boyish allure about you? A combination which is dwindling faster than the ozone layer. That you've managed to make me want you by staying away from me when every other man under this roof has made elaborate attempts of winning my heart. If that was your grand plan to keep me interested, then my love, it has worked wonders. For my heart pines for your love. It has abandoned all indulgences that ensured its gaiety and embarked on a quest to forever become yours ' she explained.
He was elated. All his senses reveled in a peculiar contentment of having won desirability.
He suppressed his expressions and wearing a grim smirk retorted 'What about Arnav? The whole office knows that you guys are seeing each other. You can't fool me there. He makes for a very suitable option anyway. He's handsome and has a promising career'
'Arnav ? !! He's an infant before you. A thousand Arnavs cannot equal the masculinity of your little finger's tip. I doubt whether even after taking seven births he'll be able to stand face to face with your shadow' she teased him with tantalizing grace.
He gulped down his pride and blurted out nervously 'You..really want me to believe that. From what I hear, a dozen of our ladies are devoting crucial working hours into devising sure shot schemes of becoming his wife..err..girlfriend..whatever. And you, being the most pretty and sensible woman that I've ever known, wants to tread in the exact opposite direc…."
'Oh Sir, did you just call me pretty? Oh, my!!!Thanks Sir. Lucky me.. Everyone calls me 'beautiful', but the way you remark of me as 'pretty'... it's much more.." she interrupted him and blinked like an anxious bride.
'Ok ok. Tell me truthfully. You and Arnav never had an affair ?' he probed again
'Sir what should I do to evoke trust in your suspicious heart. It harbors fears of a teenager. Tell me Sir, had I had anything to do with Arnav, wouldn't I have been in his arms instead.' she emphasized.
The picture of her in Arnav's arms brought a stark bitterness to the velvety ambience and he shut his eyes to prevent further imagining.
'Arnav may claim that he's mad for me, but I've always told him that I belong to Sir and that only he holds claim to my body and soul' she continued with a hint of impatience.
It was enough for him. He wished to confess about his hurting beneath his rugged veneer
'You know my wife always loathes me. She leaves no stones unturned in convincing me that I'm a man who has since long, lost all his charm and attractiveness, to be precise, within a couple of years of our marriage. That even a promiscuous lady who is offered with my company as her only option, will prefer to die single. That I'm pot bellied, more suited to do chores than flirt around. She has absolutely no fear that someone may find me attractive or may make indecent propositions to me. She's more confident of never losing me to any woman, than she is about the taste of her delicacies which she's been cooking for a decade. Even my friends think the same. And you want me to believe you ?' he sighed and sank on his thickly cushioned made to order revolving chair.
'Believe it Sir. You're everything that I've always wanted ..in fact you are the ideal man for every sensible woman out there. Witty, good looking, kind. Your eyes speak the agony of your heart, ages before your lips do. They draw me like a charmer draws his victim. I'm the victim Sir. I've chosen to be their victim.'I've been waiting for you since millenia. If it be your wish then let's walk out to the world and show them how wrong they are about your persona and popularity. Even to your wife so that the dumb woman talks to my Sir with some respect the next time around.' she suggested earnestly.
He delved in her sparkling blue eyes, mysterious as the deep blue seas themselves. They inspired faith in one moment and in the next they challenged it. For him, the biggest truth now remained that she had fallen down on her feet and begged him to take her as his beloved. It's time he called his old mates who, unlike him, would have lost their gloss and charm to time. He pictured them hiding their ageing forms behind the façade of expensive dressing and relentless makeovers. Coy to accompany their wives in public gaze. And here he was, rendered the ultimate object of desire by the most desired woman herself, despite his marriage and all his listed inadequacies. It was time he reminded his detractors, that he may be old but magnetic nevertheless. It's time he told them about his charisma.
'Karishma ?! Who's Karishma ? I demand to know.
He opened his eyes to the intimidating stare of his round faced, nagging wife, infuriated at the hint of another woman's name on her husband's lips. The pressure cooker's loud whistle went off in the nearby kitchen, announcing the prepared brunch. The radio in the living room had been long singing devotional songs. Countless chirps of busy birds broke the peace of morning. He lay still on his bed, evading his wife's persistence to know about the lady whose name, she thought her husband was chanting in his dream. Aahh !!, the dream. He reminisced his dream. Its glimpses reminding him of his inescapable reality. The lady from his office was gone and he lay with his sagging belly and impending oldness on his cot as the 'Inverter' powered table fan hummed monotonously near his ears. He looked at the air conditioner. It hung dead stripped of electricity. Someone yelled 'Damn these early morning power cuts. They never let you finish your dreams.'
** 'Old' is a work of fiction.and any resemblance in it with any person, place or incident is purely coincidental.
Labels: Fiction, Story


A view in ink of birds' nests in the cliffs of Pinnacle Island, one of the Staple or Farne Islands, off the Northumberland coast. The Farnes were formed by the seaward outcrops of the Great Whin Sill volcanic intrusion, which extends from Upper Teesdale to the north coast of Northumberland. Volcanic deposites give the Farne island their distinctive blackened appearance. The islands remain a major breeding ground for otherwise rare British seabirds.


Welcome to Urban Kai! We are a stand up paddleboard (SUP) school and outfitter that offers affordable group or private lessons with excellent instruction along with an extraordinary adventure. You will be paddling in a safe, controlled environment with experienced and qualified instructors, quality equipment and in breathtaking locations.
Even if it is your first lesson, you will be up and paddling regardless of your age, experience or fitness level. Our experienced instructors have been stand up paddling for years in flat water, small waves and big surf. They will be able to answer your questions and give you proper instruction you're looking for.
Reserve by calling 813-598-1634 We even bring a camera so you can have photos of your experience. We also offer stand up paddleboard fitness classes and yoga on water for people who want to enjoy the water and get in shape. Find out why stand up paddling is the fastest growing water sport in the world. You're going to love it! It's a phenomenal low impact workout and the most fun you've ever had on the water.
Join us for 2 hours of instruction and fun on the water! Our experienced staff will introduce you to the sport of stand up paddling. First, you'll learn about the proper use and care of the equipment along with correct paddling and turning techniques. Then, depending on water and wind conditions, we may paddle down the coast, around Tampa Bay, up one of several rivers, or explore smooth waters of various reserves. With our instruction you'll be up, paddling and smiling on your very first lesson! Lesson includes board, paddle, personal flotation device, and qualified instruction including water safety,playtime and digital water photos delivered via email. Groups must have at least one adult. Morning, Mid-Day, Sunset and Custom lesson times are available.
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Liam is a very happy little boy that is loved by everyone that meets him. He was born in October 2011 and apart from being diagnosed with hearing loss at birth Liam was otherwise healthy. By 6 months old Liam had not gained a lot of weight, we were sent for some tests for 'failure to thrive' and by 8 months old we were diagnosed with PBD. Since then life has been a whirlwind. Liam is non-verbal but can communicate really well, he reluctantly wears hearing aids, walks with his kaye walker and overall loves to be very independent. He attends our local pre-school (on reduced hours) 3 mornings a week and loves every minute of it. We attend a lot of medical appointments but Liam has everyone wrapped around his little finger especially the nurses in our local hospital outpatient department!