Calvin & Hobbes

Calvin & Hobbes

After-Exam Reading List

It took me a week to realize that my exams have finally ended. Not that I'm unhappy about it. But in some remote corner of my heart, I did feel pangs of guilt for all those books which still have the smell of fresh paper concealed within the pages. So to console myself, I bought a few story books to read (and smell).



So the first book that I bought was Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol - the international bestseller which I've been so desperate to read for the last couple of months but didn't get the opportunity or parental monetary allowance to buy. But now that I have, it has become something like a pair of spectacles which always stays right in front of my eyes, all day, no matter what.








The second book that I bought was Frederick Forsyth's The Cobra - another international bestseller which I've been itching to read for a long long long ... (10 times more) time.







I Feel Like: 

Confessions with Conscience


Today morning, when I was cleaning my book-shelf a.k.a. The Divine Den Of Doom (3D), a crumpled piece of paper dropped on the floor. I opened my nuclear-radiation-protection gloves and picked it up. It was a poem scribbled with a blunt pencil on a piece of paper which was otherwise filled with mathematical rough calculations. I wish I had a scanner so that I could have shared it with you. Nevertheless, I’ll write down whatever I had written.

When I was writing this poem, the initial intention was to expel my anger and frustration of the pressure of studying. Look how I challenge God. And note how it ends.

Prelude: Winter Vacations – Was (supposed to be) studying – early morning – felt extremely frustrated- exhausted of the pressure – had to vent my feelings – scribbled a poem.


Once on a drowsy winter morning,
On my bed, I lay awake.
Looking at the ceiling, blinking and yawning,
I wondered if God was all but fake.

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Review and Suggestions Please!

Indian Top Blogs recently reviewed my blog on request. And I'm quite happy about the review that they gave to my blog. I am seriously going to consider the suggestions that they have put forward.

But I need your help too. If you really think that my blog lacks something with regards to content, design, navigation, appearance, readability, size of font, etc etc or if there is any other aspect which I have been stupid enough not to think about, and which you would really like to see on my blog, kindly comment and help me out here. Remember, I'm still a newbie! (2.5 months old). If you want you can lambaste me with sarcasm but take care not to make me cry, please!

Here is the review that Indian Top Blogs gave me.

I Feel Like: 

Intelligence Failure - Obama vs Pak

I Feel Like: 

A Midnight Acquaintance



LP: “It was midnight. The moon stood transfixed at its zenith in the depressed blue sky, as white smoky clouds swirled over the gleaming white orb as it looked like a fortune-teller’s magic ball delving deep into a curious man’s after-life. And sometimes it almost seemed like the cauldron of an evil witch brewing potions to trick the daring young men who venture into the woods in search of monsters to slay or treasures to take away. The chilly winter wind never failed to hasten the snowflakes which would otherwise drift at ease and choose a tree-branch to rest upon. The Park across the lonesome street looked enchanting that night, with the fresh sheet of snow that it had received – the solitary ashen angel on top of the gothic fountain at the centre of the park, the rows of old wooden benches and lamp-posts, the leaf-less trees with brown branches encumbered with the weight of the accumulated snow. Everything looked so magical yet placid. Comatose - all but the distant city across the lake sparkling with thousands and thousands of lights embroidered on to the black skyscrapers. A retiring fishing boat glided over the lake, reticent about its day’s hard work. Just over the distant horizon…”

TRAMP: “Arr! Stop it fella!”

I Feel Like: 

Sneak Peak Into The Future Of Sarcasti-Nation

I can hear all the exuberant screams and frantic shrieks, as I sit in the backstage sofa, with a martini touched to my lips. As the liquor drains into me, my spirit invigorates with pleasure. Security personnel in black t-shirts run about in the corridors shouting into their walkie-talkies, asking for backup. Someone complained about too many people flocking at the backstage entrance.

"So far, so good." I think and smile to myself, all the while staring at my Berluti shoes.

One more sip, and I'm ready to face it. I stand up, and glance at my breguet marine royale. 30 seconds to the final moment. I begin walking towards the stage side-entrance. The screams grow louder. I start walking into the stage hidden behind the prussian blue curtains. I stop at the center of the stage. I take a deep breath, and nod my head. The curtain parts.

And the audience goes crazy. They howl, shriek, shout, and scream at the top of their voices. Everyone cranes their neck to get a better view and waves their arms frantically, hoping that I might notice the person, even if it is for a split second. There is a row of fuming hot girls in the front wearing black t-shirts each with an individual letter spelling, 'S-A-R-C-A-S-T-I-N-A-T-I-O-N'. Everyone jumps about and screams as loud as they can in a moment of unrestrained euphoria.

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