Who knows where begins the life and how it ends Alas, many are unaware of the journey

itself with so many bends; Tracks before us go on change abruptly finishing us Accepting the change is the only way to tranquility keeping free from fuss. Kannadassan, the Great Poet of Tamil Nadu, India. =YOU ARE GONE = Money makes many things including nothing sometimes. My war with money follows: Once, I was transferred to a remote workplace, where I was not able to get food and water even. I managed for two years by travelling from my residence to the workplace at a distance of 180 kilometers daily. The travel expense sucked every penny of my savings. Poverty comfortably sat on my head drinking every drop of my blood. In a financial fix, I was forced to get personal loan from one of my clients, who hailed from a nearby town. Decision to get a loan was nice; but selecting a clientfriend as creditor was the ill fated twist of my mind. In order to keep my personal account away from my official responsibility, I got the demanded money from him on the corridor of my office. This was suddenly looked on by my supervisor, who was clever enough to paint this incident as though I got my palm greased. The supervisor plunged into action like a hurricane. He made an immediate report to the bigger boss that I was getting bribe from a client. Actions were taken on war-footing to put me off the duty. Misfortune banged me severely. The client friend admitted that the money was a loan amount, but to my bad luck, he added that he gave it to get an official favor from me. Enough. Everything was finished. I was shown the door in no time.

Available savings and resource were fast drying in subsistence and in my misfired attempts to come up on different businesses. No one was willing to help me. I spent several sleepless nights in the pain of getting my job back. One day, I found myself extremely tired and slept for a while. In that nap like sleep I dreamt of a ghost. It shouted at me, YOU ARE GONE. The next morning I had an opportunity to have a glance of a newspaper. The piece of inscription made my head turn. It was captioned, YOU ARE GONE. It was not even an advertisement. It was just a piece of article written by a bank official who lauded a freelance website offering part time jobs to writers. Thanks to the newspaper which gave the URL of the freelance website. I entered in to it. I attended the online test conducted by the site and got a pass. One Ms. Victoria of the firm encouraged me to win in my life too. I got my job back from the succeeding incumbent of my boss. The freelance website also gave me a job of writing for students abroad. I am now earning considerably with a heartfelt contentment that I am helping pupils far away. But my friends call me ghost.

Story on lipogram

One fine morning I was transferred to a remote workplace, wherein access to even potable water was scarce. I managed for two years by swinging daily from my residence to the work spot travelling a distance of 180 kilometers daily. The travel expense wiped off my savings. Poverty had comfortably sat on my head drawing each drop of my blood.

I was forced to get loan from one of my clients, who hailed from a nearby town. In order to keep my personal dealings away from my official responsibility, I made the client friend to hand me the demanded money on the corridor of my office. This was looked on by my impish overseer in a cavalier manner, who painted this incident as if I got my palm greased. Actions were taken on war-footing to finish me off from my job. Disaster banged me severely. The client friend admitted that the money was a loan and he also added that he gave it to get an official favor from me. Finished. I was shown the door in no time. Available savings and reserve were fast drying in my incompetent attempts to stay alive and in my misfired attempts to breathe on by entering into different trades. No one was willing to help me. Managing the livelihood of my family and fighting for even-handed moral treatment from my employer to get back my job was in fact hectically agonizing .In an extreme sorrow, I once dreamt of a ghost yelled at me that I was gone. Next morning I had an occasion to have a glance of a newspaper. It was not even an advertisement. It was simply a piece of article by a bank official who adored a freelance website offering part-time jobs to writers. Thanks to the newspaper which gave the web address. I entered in to it; attended the online test given by the site and passed. Ms. Victoria of the firm gave me hope and nerve to win. Patience and alacrity gave my job back to me. In addition, the online freelance company too offered me the writers prestige; now I am earning considerably with a heartfelt contentment that I am helping scholars far away. Yet, my friends call me ghost. Poor fellows, they do not know that I am getting rich in my psyche.

EXPERIENCE OF LIPOGRAM VENTURE:

It is an experience of exploration. Writing with some sort of self created constrain is really a thrilling experience. At the first line of this process, I experienced completely the child walk sensation. It was very slow to inscribe words with the selected letter being omitted. At one moment I even thought of giving up the whole show. By then, I happened to hear a song in my vernacular. The lyric was so designed that the upper lip and lower lip of the singer did not meet one another throughout the song. This gave me energy to plunge into lipogram venture again. Firstly I decided to write down the event in its original vigor and form, in which I did not apply any constraint of lipogram. Then I gave a final touch to the event with fine tuning of certain rhetoric. Then, I came to a firm determination that this vigor in the depiction should never be lost. Yes. I had crossed exactly half of the river. At this stage I began to pick a suitable vowel to be slaughtered in my lipogram venture. Out of the five vowels, A and E are really meant for Lipogram Gurus. In case of consonant, S is the oft repeated one in English, without which I can not even think of a sentence. Thus my search for vowel slaughter was narrowed down to I, O and U. In a first-person depiction of an event, omitting the letter I amounts to attempting suicide. Finally I was left with only O and U. Thanks to technology. Microsoft word paved a fantastic path for my effort. In a paragraph of around 170 words, I found 65 Os and in the same paragraph it was only 16 Us. Here came the streak. The crucial event of reading the newspaper caption and the sound of my dream ghost flashed in me. That is YOU ARE GONE. Thus I made U to go off literally in the content, while it is gone figuratively in the caption.