skip to main |
skip to sidebar
RSS Feeds
the innocent ramblings of a soporose lychnobite
Calvin & Hobbes
Confessions with Conscience
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
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.
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.
A Midnight Acquaintance
Saturday, 7 May 2011
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!”
Sneak Peak Into The Future Of Sarcasti-Nation
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
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.
Why does Political campaigning always have to sound like...
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah My Actions will speak not words Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Don't Give Them A Single Vote Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah So You Should Vote For ME Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah I will give you Ration, Roads, Water, and the occassional Booze Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Vote on this symbol only.
Thank You.
Jai Hind
Do people reveal their true Identity on Social Media?
Friday, 29 April 2011
This post is being written for Blogjunta's THE GREAT DEBATERS, season-1, Debate-2.
Before starting off, let me swear to humanity and Whoopie Golderg’s beautiful face, that I am going to be as honest as a mirror here.
[Family-sized Clap]
Confession: Initially, I was quite fickle to choose one side of the topic. But after 3 hours, 54 minutes, and 27 seconds of reflection, contemplation, deliberation, rumination, and meditation, I’ve finally decided to write AGAINST the topic.
[Rock Concert Audience Cheer]
So lets start off!
[Deafening Roar Of 300 Spartan warriors]
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
