Ramblings Of A Restless Soul

The book is a collection of travel related short stories. The stories are from real travels but the persons and exact situations are changed to protect privacy and prevent problems in sensitive areas. Some of the stories are situational. Others are about people or culture or places out of the ordinary. Others are newsletters written at the time and adapted later for a wider ranging audience. Yet others are dilemmas or frustrating situations turned to fiction to bring humor to the issue. You will learn about a hidden kingdom in Java, off limits to tourists without special permission of the king; take a ride on the Trans Siberian train from Moscow to Beijing and experience adventure along the way; visit Beirut a week after the suicide bombing; and experience what it’s like to work in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. Africa will become more than a place for safaris when you visit countries such as the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Burundi and Central African Republic, all of which have and still do experience conflicts, disease and poverty.

This collection represents some of what I have written from 2001 to 2008, parts of which also presented in different group venues, and posted, rather conveniently, on the Forums I have tried to maintain in a British newspaper.

The enemy is defeated. The gods strike a truce. And the Dharkan strike against the gods. Victory has cost both gods and mortals dearly. The veil between life and death in Niflheim is thinner than ever. Try as they might, the gods are powerless against the influence of Time, and their past mistakes threaten not only their future but their very existence. Now the fate of eternity rests in the unlikely alliance between the goddess of the soul and a soulless Dharkan, as they must work together to achieve peace between the living and the dead in Aegea. And although their goals may seem similar, the motivations behind them couldn’t be more at odds with each other. Meanwhile, a greater enemy approaches. Or maybe it’s already here...

In 1966, a group of battle-weary American GIs trekked through the Vietnamese jungle knowing each step could mean facing the enemy's guns. But instead of ambush, they stumbled upon a hidden treasure beyond their wildest dreams. It was a discovery that exacted a terrible cost. A vacation spot picked at random, Thailand is intended to provide relaxation time for globe-trotting archaeologist Annja Creed. Yet the irresistible pull of the country's legendary Spirit Cave lures Annja and her companions deep within a network of underground chambers—nearly to their deaths. The ancient burial sites have slumbered through the ages. Yet no rest is found there—just the voices of the dead. When the dead speak, will they help Annja uncover the perplexing past of a remarkable find or will they call her to join them?

Since the publication of my initial Ramblings' in 2009, this supposedly restless' mind did not suddenly acquire Zen-tranquility. It continued to be what it has been for long and here is another installment of occasional thoughts, versified. I use versified' not in the strictly traditional sense because it gets a bit too restrictive for the license' some of us think we have or claim to have. These ramblings' are mostly in a territory that is consciously kept apart from the areas of my professional interest. This territory involves governments, politics, nature, things and people -- people of faith, deep, shallow, desert-dry or fertile with pseudo-versions of Zen and Sufism. In this territory, the things that happen are often seen and considered in a somewhat different way, and the reactions felt and expressed, not always with due respect and reverence. There is no conscious attempt to organize or sequester these thoughts into groups or categories, but if one finds any trend in this tumbling out of thoughts, it may perhaps be largely attributed to some kind of chronological, evolutionary randomness. And if in these wanderings, some hills and valleys begin to look familiar to those who may know, they could well be but, I hope, seen from a different angle, tangential to a path rather less-familiar, and offering a somewhat different view. No two sunsets over a familiar hill are ever the same to an eye or a heart that is never tired of sunsets; every wave leaves behind its own set of previously unseen gifts each time it sweeps over and recedes from a well-trodden beach. Some of these ramblings' have been offered before, quite extemporaneously, to informal gatherings but if anyone detects any tell-tale signs here, it would be either incidental or that my editorial revisions have not been as thorough as I had originally intended. T. Beeth November, 2013

This is a book not for the conventional reader. It is a book that will challenge your knowledge and beliefs about society today, society past, and the possibilities for the future. It is a personal observation of a man who has lived through and seen much-of society, love, hurt, religions, and wars. It is a book that will hopefully make you think.

Moonrise and Memories is an eclectic collection of modern poems on diverse themes like Life, Friendship, Love, Mindfulness, Nature, and Inspiration. The poems are an expression of my inner journey through life and its magical moments. The poems have a theme of mindfulness and meditativeness running through the compositions. The book wishes to inspire readers to take a stop in their busy lives and reflect on smaller things around us, which seem insignificant and yet, are so meaningful. To live every moment with higher consciousness and awareness. The poems speak of love & nostalgia on one hand and deriving inspiration from life on the other hand. The longer poems tell stories from imaginary days past. The poems on nature are reflections on the wonder of this beautiful world. Moonrise and Memories is your ideal companion to reflect and ruminate on, on a beautiful morning with your chai, or during the monsoon as you watch the rain fall, or on moonlit nights when you watch the full moon and fall in love once again. The poems are nothing special, just outpourings of our own heart put into words by me.