Blogging aftr a long time...Been to Hyderabad....so called industrial trip...to be precise we went to ramoji film city....visited the Eenadu Office.....story of a hardworking entrepreneur who started his business by selling pickcles....started a chit fund....later in the 70's started the Eenadu newspaper....effective marketing strategies enabled Eenadu scale new heights....then in the 90's u had the birth of the Etv....amazing guy....today he has 38 presses in hyd n 11 channels.....Ramoji studios is worth visiting.....as a jouralism student wht i learnt was the way he covered the news...a vast area of nearly 3000 acres.....beautiful sets.....the technicians shd be givenfull credit for their wonderful job.....the amuzement park EUREKA was really gud....the opening and the closing ceremony is something that one shdnt miss while visiting Ramoji....We were served tasty food in the hotel where we stayed.....yes the traditional hyderabadi biryani....its mouth watering....Ofcourse hyd is famous for Bangles....bargain as much as u can...imagine a pearl set that was priced at 50o i purchased it at 100....the best bargain was by my friend who purchased a beautiful set for 600 which was priced for 2000....all these at the charminar....then we went to the museum....but by the time we went there all of us were dead tired....dragging our feet.....luckily we rested for around 2 hrs....then the beautiful lumbini park n the amazing Buddha Statue....Wht a beautiful Sunset....the foto above was taken at ramoji in the evening frm my room....then we bid adiue to the city of hyd....n back to mumbai meri jaan....real fun with my frnds....

An October Evening
William Wilfred Campbell

The woods are haggard and lonely,
The skies are hooded for snow,
The moon is cold in Heaven,
And the grasses are sere below.

The bearded swamps are breathing
A mist from meres afar,
And grimly the Great Bear circles
Under the pale Pole Star.

There is never a voice in Heaven,
Nor ever a sound on earth,
Where the spectres of winter are rising
Over the night's wan girth.

There is slumber and death in the silence,
There is hate in the winds so keen;
And the flash of the north's great sword-blade
Circles its cruel sheen.

The world grows agèd and wintry,
Love's face peakèd and white;

And death is kind to the tired ones
Who sleep in the north to-night.