TechYukti blog - Technology & Reviews in Hindi

An old movie playing in your head. As your are humming, and missing what you had. A scenery of abandoned bed. A ghost is sleeping, dreaming among the dead. Then cut to scene, to a rundown shed. Something is dancing, shivering. A vague dread. A letter and broken pencil lead. Unfinished writing, spilled ink, colored in red. A history, story, filled with regret. On your cheek, rolling. Falling,

Empty, an empty city. An assembly of vanity. Hungry, yes I am hungry. In your land, your land of plenty. Unfamiliarity. Gluttony, consumes me slowly. Funny, you were part of me. Sadly, a goodbye finally. Farewell, I am so sorry. Before I am no longer me. Sing, let's sing beautifully. This memory, of tragedy. Moving Skyline. Photo by Rohit Tandon on Unsplash Note: Have you ever

An eternal serenade. In between prayers, it resonates. Angels' hearts, it captivates. Near the heaven's gate, reverberates. And yearning for an alternate, but no match against cold fate. Dripping at an alarming rate, then your sadness, dissipates. Soul Mnemonic. Photo by Tim Umphreys on Unsplash Note: It is a poetry about remembering lost loved ones. In the grand scheme of things,

An inverted bravery, perhaps I was not meant to be. As far as I can not see, with me in a quandary. An unhappy scenery, abruptly I am so sorry. My life in your memory, but an old tree, you stand firmly. On your horizon shiny, a colored thread, silvery. Flying beautifully, your leaves scatter infinitely. Travel east, the air heavy, with your worries beyond the sea. On the horizon faintly, a

Tonight I choose to logout, away from you, and pixelated crowds. Time to forget, today is too loud. Input command, wipe them out from the cloud. . . . . CPU's overloading, trying to process this strange feeling. Thinking of you, overthinking. Old memories overflowing. . . . . Tonight my fuse is just too damn short. Too much abuse, not enough tech support. I am tired of filtering bad

When my day is complete, tucked in beside you, I, the mother hen. Your little hand in mine, your softest touch against my rough sands. I can feel you, from my palm, your being, then ingrained deep in my spine. My precious tiny human, my pride, my joy, a part of me, intertwine. The strength of your innocent mind, your song for me, a melody so divine. A lullaby, your sleepy voice, a horizon of

This month is that time of the year when students in Indonesia who have already graduated high school scramble to apply for universities of their, or of their parents, choosing. For those who have already had plan on what they want to do in the future, they will know which university and faculty to apply to. For those who are still unsure, they may find themselves in a life crisis. You may find

That night I stood  with you on that hill overlooking the city, starring down into  the black sea, filled with man-made stars. Up above us was a circular mirror, the  moon in its full glory and  around it, countless ancient  glitter from light years afar. Just like the  sky and the ground melting in  the dark horizon I put my arm tightly around you  when the  cold breeze blew. Our senses

Stand there, with your hand against your face, under the teak tree. Count to ten, I dare you not to peek while we seek refuge, a place you can not see. As you count from one, then two, then three. We disperse away from you, in a hurry. Try to not make any sound So we will not be found easily. Four and five, and six. And loudly you asked if we're ready. Chaotic, we flee from your voice of

A beauty, buried underneath layers of mystery. Far down below unnoticed, undiscovered, Her life is a history and now her body merge slowly With the earth, resting peacefully. A beauty, among the deep dimmed galaxies. Up above million miles, beyond unreachable, She shines endlessly, carries on carrying ancient memory, And a wisdom, only for me to see. A beauty, scattered in the air, floating

Do you remember this old image, big brother? Of our village with endless summer. Where old farmers tenderly tending their rice fields in the evening, and lively kids flying a large kite next to a river, as the mosque howling with a call for prayer. And familiar wind blowing, stroking our hairs, as we ran toward nearby small kiosk, without care. A still movie of our day when the time were still

Glory to your brain movie, Imagery vividly, playing backward, beautifully. A green backyard and a little creek, wet air, so fresh and so clean. Yellow sunflower enjoying morning sun shower and pretty fence in between the trees and the fallen leaves under a tiny pond with countless ripples. And your lover, with you, happily kissing. Yet blurry behind the watery screen, a figure, a scene from

Standing still in front of an anthill, contemplating, wandering within. Looking, assessing the tiny things. Crawling, gnawing a chunk of skin. Insignificant hurdle to jump over yet a great fear of a million biters, And the burning consequence after. Trampling forward playing a god, stirring the fleeing cowards Or retreat admit defeat forever incomplete? Hesitant heart, indecisive when the two

I love the sea. It's only about 4 kilometers away from where I live, not actually a walking distance but close enough to see it quite often. The beach in here is not very pretty and the waves are often too strong so you wouldn't be able to swim. However, I can watch and listen to the waves crashing for hours. Sometimes if I got lucky, I would be able able to see small fishermen ships returning

That day's Monday came a bit too early A little guy's happily chasing a cuckoo, too carelessly Untied shoelace, tripped then skinned knee Unfazed as he wiped his face, undaunted since it was silly Continued toward south despite the muddy clothes A graveyard up ahead and then the dirt stony road Kindergarten on the right, he had arrived on the crossroad Onward through the corner of the broken

Undulating after falling into the surface of feeling Ever so quickly coming and then leaving And it keeps repeating, it won't stay Often unnoticed, everyday it goes by Uncaring even if it's being taken for granted Crest and trough, today is complete Another forgotten chunk is left behind Only one day to be randomly recalled as bittersweet And yearning for repeat in the back of the mind

Hello, good morning.  I hope that you are not getting tired of my usual greeting. Instant coffee and omelette are waiting, it's not much but I was the one who did the cooking. Let's enjoy today, like we do everyday, so let's get going! Oh but there's no need to rush, take our time eating and dressing, then I'll heat up the engine. Violet blue this time, wow! You look even more so captivating.