KIRKEE WAR CEMETERY

Most of you who are form Pune and have been living there for a long time. Might be unaware of the historical significance of the place. Here are some facts abt it.
KIRKEE WAR CEMETERY was created to receive Second World War graves from the western and central parts of India where their permanent maintenance could not be assured. The cemetery contains 1,668 Commonwealth burials of the Second World War. The KIRKEE MEMORIAL stands within the cemetery and commemorates more than 1,800 servicemen who died in India during the First World War, who are buried in civil and cantonment cemeteries in India and Pakistan where their graves can no longer be properly maintained. This total includes the names of 639 servicemen whose remains were brought from Bombay (Sewri) Cemetery for re-interment here in 1960. On the same memorial are commemorated almost 200 East and West African servicemen who died in non-operational zones in India in the Second World War, and whose graves either cannot be located or are so situated that maintenance is not possible.
I had seen this place many times from bus but was never able to locate it. Yesterday I got lost in Kirkee with my friends and landed up in this place.
Take my words for it. Please do visit atleast one. Just for the Love of world wars.
Let me know if u need directions.

V for vendetta

V: I can assure you I mean you no harm.
Evey: Who are you?
V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask.
Evey: Well, I can see that.
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
Evey: Oh. Right.
V: But on this most auspicious of nights permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
[V throws back his cape.]
V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant and vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition! [He slashes a large V through a propaganda poster.] The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. [giggles] Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me "V".
Evey: Are you, like, a crazy person?
V: I am quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking?
Evey: I'm Evey.
V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.
Evey: What does that mean?
V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence. Are you hurt?
Evey: No, I'm fine...thanks to you.
V: Oh, I merely played my part. But tell me, do you enjoy music, Evey?
Evey: I suppose.
V: You see, I'm a musician of sorts on my way to give a very special performance.
Evey: What kind of instruments?
V: Percussion instruments are my speciality, but tonight I intend to call upon the entire orchestra for this particular event, and would be most honored if you would join me.
Evey: I don't see any instruments.
V: Your powers of observation continue to serve you well. But wait! It is to Madame Justice that I dedicate this concerto, in honor of the holiday she seems to have taken from these parts, and in recognition of the impostor that stands in her stead. Tell me, do you know what day it is?
Evey: Um... November the fourth?
[church bells start tolling 12 midnight]
V: Not anymore. Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason, and plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot.
V: People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people.
Evey: And you're going to make that happen by blowing up a building?
V: The building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. Alone, a symbol is meaningless, but with enough people, blowing up a building can change the world.
Evey: I wish I could believe that. But every time I've seen this world change, it's always been for the worse.

Tonight

Tonight all my dreams will come true
Tonight I will be born again
Like rising from my ashes

Tonight I too shall live a life we all envy
Since tomorrow has different plans for me

Tonight we can be friends again
Since I know tomorrow we might not have time

Tonight I will sing our loud
Since tomorrow my voice will face
It will be muffled by the world

Tonight I will laugh till tears fill my eyes
Since tomorrow my eyes will turn dry

Tonight I will eat, drink and be merry
Because tomorrow need to pay my bills

Tonight I will walk hand in hand with you
Since tomorrow we might not recognize each other

Tonight I will come alive again
Because tomorrow is a new day
A new beginning
New bills and new expenses
New friends and new love

So let me live tonight for the last time before we give ourselves away

Sound of silence

You all know me well. I am not a stranger to you. You known me for ages now but then this is the first time we are meeting in person. The first time you acknowledge me was when you got your first F. You were naive back then. It might sound trivial, insignificant now, but then it was a sin that you thought you committed. You wanted to run away from home and hide your sinful face. It pained bad real bad. All of your friends passed remarks behind your back. You could hear their whispers. They said you were dumb, and you had no brain. At nights I hear you screaming you could not sleep. You used to stuff your face in pillow and scream “Why, why me” over and over again till dusk. But then I took care of you then, don’t you remember I visited you ever night when no one was around. No one understood you back then but me. Our relationship never lasted long you soon found new things to do and forgot all about me up till your first break up.
It was not love at first sight you are not so foolish. You met him in your French class and it was a fairy tale love story. You though that life was there in every moment you were with him. He would sing love songs for you and you would just stare at him. You were truly, madly, deeply in love with him. But then all good things have to come to an end.
Freud once said “Every human being has suicidal instincts”. And it was this instinct that I helped you fight back.
Then you grew old mature and every now and then we shared a drink of Jim bean. You used to like me but then you got bored of me. You tried to keep yourself busy to forget me, you though I haunted you, your dreams but in reality I was just as lonely as you were in desperate need of a friend an accomplice.
I know you cannot understand me now… you are too busy getting married having kids. But let me assure you one day when it all gets over, I will be there to carry you to you bed sing you lullaby’s at night. I promise I will return.
I am a part of you in am the sweet sound of silence…..