tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65372195417754831392024-02-07T08:36:25.314+05:30Beelzebub writesI often see through rose-tinted glasses. The reds, blues and the many hues! At times I am deeply philosophical. Still waters run very deep...
I live to love things around me, I shout to be heard over a hubbub and sometimes, I scream!
I shall take you there with me. At times, I'm evil and sardonic too...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-61390291856400740962013-01-17T00:26:00.001+05:302013-01-17T00:26:21.672+05:30<p>Here's a list of memorable books, my personal  favourites... the ones I keep getting back to year after year.<br>
1. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone<br>
2. Jane Eyre<br>
3. The Lord of the Rings (trilogy)<br>
4. Gone With the Wind<br>
5. The Godfather<br>
6. Great Speeches that Changed the World<br>
7. War and Peace<br>
8. The Time-traveller's Wife<br>
9. Like Water for Chocolate<br>
10. House of the Spirits<br>
11. Scarlett - sequel to GWTW<br>
12. A few Harry Potter and Terry Goodkind novels<br>
13. Rage of Angels<br>
14. The Stars Shine Down<br>
15. If Tomorrow Comes<br>
16. The Sands of Time</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS12SmS6ynut5Xz8dqThuI4jQSKKDOC4gMGFzrv1Fea8XO4DwFLpt4iHrLBPtzRMesSLcG5_vVS7ZKamoimTTq9HO7LTZdTWipcTh6xKEq8jrQugNzb2vgzk80kalnfsepL46kfGB_DEM/s1600/20130116_235116.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS12SmS6ynut5Xz8dqThuI4jQSKKDOC4gMGFzrv1Fea8XO4DwFLpt4iHrLBPtzRMesSLcG5_vVS7ZKamoimTTq9HO7LTZdTWipcTh6xKEq8jrQugNzb2vgzk80kalnfsepL46kfGB_DEM/s640/20130116_235116.jpg' /> </a> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-82272586444069677362013-01-10T20:42:00.002+05:302013-01-10T20:50:20.938+05:30New Year's...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My first post since new year's... Belated new year's to all!<br />
<br />
Since my last post, I've been really busy to actually sit down, think and write from a fresher, newer perspective. I've been travelling to-and-fro the city and round about other places.<br />
<br />
I met with people, mainly relatives or long-lost cousins whom I see on occasion such as these. I clicked lots of pictures - a glorious start to tireless, new photography sessions. It was 12 o'clock and late in the night to have celebrated the new year. But it was a fulfilling sleep that paid off, after having being lulled about here-and-there (my mom's doing). That's how my new year was spent...<br />
<br />
Right now, its my house that's undergoing a bit of renovation. So, my place is bound to get dusty and quite unlivable-in until all the operations are done with. *argh* So much for cleanliness. <br />
<br />
I will need tips on interior designing and some directions on how I must match the decor of my living-room with different colors. Deep aquamarine-blue remains my favorite and so, this color will form the focal points in my room (or so, I hope). I am quite aversed to lime-green and yellows, since they draw too much attention. And agitate a mind such as mine. Right now, I'm all in for a home-improvement-committee. *sarcasm*</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-41459793861636830382012-12-28T02:17:00.001+05:302012-12-28T09:41:50.622+05:30Mom's Fitness Mantra<p>So I am at that stage, like many others who get haughtily told by their moms that they need to lose weight. Being "fat" is sinful. It undermines a person's luxury to savor food to the fullest, in others opinion (in this case my mom's). Meaning, if I were FAT and I enjoyed eating, I will be laughed at or labelled a glutton. <br>
I'd describe it as a complex that forever leaves afflicted "obese" persons eyeing others for that acutely curvaceous figure, or a size-zero. But the size-zero phenomenon is a waste, as it'd make me stand out in a crowd like a bag of bones. <br>
Owing to some great genes and tradition, I will be skinny, yet curvy. Now, my self-worth so depends on this, and going by mom's fitness mantra - "Eat healthy but exercise!" And since my exams are over, she will most likely re-double efforts to enforce the weight-loss strategy. <br>
So I need to watch what I eat, scrutinise calories and cut down on carbs. I could do with some green-tea, a high-fibre diet, fresh greens and regular exercise. Skipping. Brisk walking. Some weight training sessions: dumb-bells, sand bags and what not...the remnants of my brother's body-building activities.<br>
Laziness is a major hurdle that lurks inside me. Fiesty, it hisses and draws talons against anyone that invades my comfort-zone. At other times it lies dormant and switches to Garfield, the happy cat; characteristically feline and sneaky when it comes to exercise, and being partial to junk food. <br>
So the drama begins, with mom as Umpire and guru. Three cheers to looking pretty!! *toast*</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-48268997515467719262012-12-25T23:18:00.001+05:302012-12-28T01:44:30.291+05:30Perks of Being a Gurl<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's that time of the year when we're on the verge of getting over with the semester. NOT the ideal time to cut slack (as my practical exams are still ON!). But here I am again. I'm sipping a choco mocca after trying out a new bubble bath (it was yummy and fresh with green-tea and citrus essence). And I used a hair-straightener on damp hair which is simply Rad!<br />
I filed and cut my nails: a self-pedicure, used a softening cream and what not... ah, the perks of being a girl! I can pamper myself all I like. And wear pink things with polka dots and tiny hearts. That also gives me divine rights to "PMS" and yowl to glory, if I so choose to.<br />
But SOMEBODY pleaseeee scream... Or slap me, make me smell fish! Oh no, I don't like fish smell. Just lecture me on exam preparation and time-management, and I must kick arse tomorrow (the EXAM)!<br />
P.S. It just might help if you use sweet words, and do some polite nudging, here and there. Or I might scream, and you could be the reason to start another blog post with a vendetta.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-57696722714393004252012-12-25T18:34:00.001+05:302012-12-25T21:28:01.817+05:30Shop-o-holic<p>I had been shopping with mom at the "home stop". There is still lots to be done like finding the right accessories, picking out matching curtains and stuff. <br>
This sure seems hectic. I wonder how designers manage to keep their sanity and juggle deadlines on the go. The most irking part of this addictive and tiring affair is the time constraint and one's inability to choose between intangible assets and goods that are much needed; and the cluttered state the mind is put into. Think, for example when you want to buy that gorgeous crystal thingy as a mantle-piece and it just doesn't suit the decor.<br>
The day out ended with a contemplation: whether to go for a movie now or later. However we didn't watch movies *sigh*, 'coz the tickets were unavailable or just that the shows had weird timings which didn't go well with us. I badly wanted to watch "the Hobbit, which was scheduled for 8:45 p.m. (I have an exam tomorrow :-!). Instead, I ate donuts to make myself feel better, then ate at subway and shopped some more. Well, MERRY CHRISTMAS! </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-29038733673971492962012-12-25T00:39:00.001+05:302012-12-25T00:57:42.018+05:30Heart-throb<p>Okay. I'm not into jokes, the kind that start off and you never know where the punch-line is. Or rather WAS, as you realize the joke was on you!<br>
Well 'scuse me. You were the dull one, the dumb one... having fallen for it. :P<br>
My heart throbs for an imaginary knight in shining armour! Rhett Butler. Where art thou? And it's more than just a heart-ache. The skin on the back of my legs and arms hurt. I just epilated for the first time; it was a monstrous thing, really. <br>
The whizzing machine with a thousand needles piercing the skin; biting and tearing barbarically into it. My epidermis is now more exposed and vunerable than ever. Atleast there had been an evergreen forest that had protected me; hair that always stood-on-end in wintry days like these! Now, I'm covered with tingling remnants, of what used to be hair-follicles. Now they are rashes. <br>
Mental note: never epilate again, especially without a soothing aloe-gel on hand! <br>
Coming to better things... Mom's back. She's gotten me a newer phone: android and not BB this time, from which I can blog. To add to that, there's this super-zoom bridge camera that shoots in RAW mode, rather like a DSLR but sans the lens-changing capabilities. It sure is the right thing for a rookie like me!</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-1338510456193973122012-12-22T22:40:00.000+05:302012-12-22T22:41:02.134+05:30my "otherwise"...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've become what people call a "crying jag", and yet I don't know why. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Maybe it's the chemistry (the oxytocin in the air), the atmosphere and the weather that is giving me the chills. I do sound self-obsessed when I say this. But a few days back, I was Darth Vader! Literally jeering at everyone and getting a kick out of everything. And all of a sudden now, here's my alter ego: Plain Jane with the Flu. -_-</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, anyways I have been doing some poetry-hunting. And here's an unforgettable poem that was once taught to me in the world literature classroom, IB. :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's simple, down-to-earth and longs for something; which is how I felt when its words touched me to the core. I had dedicated this poem to someone once, and it still remains one of my favorite poems.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b>Otherwise</b><br />
I come<br />
from an opposite country<br />
to yours, where water spirals<br />
and the moon waxes<br />
otherwise.<br />
my stars assemble in unfamiliar patterns<br />
and I watch often<br />
not traffic or television<br />
but hour by hour the huge tide<br />
absently fingering rocks and small shells<br />
and the wet brown kelp<br />
where fish go sliding through.<br />
<br />
if you were with me now<br />
on my favorite beach<br />
we’d watch the distant seismograph<br />
of silver peaks darkening to indigo<br />
and walk on the breakwater<br />
towards the harbor mouth,<br />
disturbing the flocks of terns<br />
that wheel up shrieking in slim wild voices<br />
to land again behind us<br />
renewing their conference. I would slip<br />
my cold hand in your pocket,<br />
you’d look at me and grin<br />
and we would walk together quietly<br />
right to the very end,<br />
where big chained rocks hold back <br />
the same Pacific ocean, lumbering in.<br />
<br />
~Cilla McQueen, 2001</div>
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-46104764545946516712012-12-20T20:50:00.000+05:302012-12-22T22:59:56.819+05:30Beelzebub writes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I feel amazing, like super-charged! It's evil flowing in my veins; the spirits and banshees calling out my name... for demonic, dark desires. I'd drink human blood too, wanna be a <i>Vampyre</i>.<br />
I am gonna be a evil, sarcastic bitch from now on, and get a kick outta everything!<br />
No more sympathetic me.<br />
I'm the Beelzebub that likes to write...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_qick5DYhkqm5x92avfJkDswMnL_lk2pOTc6Nwgp2QdaoNNygigIAPPDltVjXYva_nFDWG2_1JsGQH0tlZP9GjobTgdROehGMpwhyphenhyphenzf47mJ1oLf4s3ulGvP1yrOAzYzvD55wnpGGJwI/s1600/the_joker_illustration-wallpaper-1920x1080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_qick5DYhkqm5x92avfJkDswMnL_lk2pOTc6Nwgp2QdaoNNygigIAPPDltVjXYva_nFDWG2_1JsGQH0tlZP9GjobTgdROehGMpwhyphenhyphenzf47mJ1oLf4s3ulGvP1yrOAzYzvD55wnpGGJwI/s320/the_joker_illustration-wallpaper-1920x1080.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-43091340588303831312012-12-18T17:06:00.002+05:302012-12-18T17:10:12.699+05:30Angry young lady with a custard fetish.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I made custard.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
the likes of which is yellow,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
a milky-jello,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
my mouth, a round “O”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
my buds need revival; </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
good food, yore and </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
more. It’s often me that </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
chases pigeons nested by </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the building and makes a </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
dog yowl, a yank of it's tail. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Critters, I can’t help it, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
this is, me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Embodiment, bold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Au natural, a figurative cook;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
mutton chops, cream tarts</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and a custard fetish!</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-53737463758911376942012-12-14T16:09:00.001+05:302012-12-14T17:10:25.343+05:30Drunken fancies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Reality swims before<br />
me; in a torpedo of<br />
thought. A swim in<br />
an ocean, Paradise,<br />
where I want it to be;<br />
roar of the angels;<br />
and a death dance<br />
of spirits, eternal.<br />
<br />
They beckon me,<br />
their melancholy<br />
matches mine;<br />
an epiphany; a<br />
death dream and<br />
my darkling knight.<br />
I covet thee,<br />
consume me, till I<br />
want no more.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-41389588678236246092012-12-12T22:20:00.000+05:302012-12-12T22:20:00.685+05:30Aprendiendo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here's a poem I came across the other day. <br />Note, the original version of the poem is in Spanish (which, I don't speak).<br />Hope you enjoy the read!<br /><br /><img src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQuex7ADvZSd-XsRqBOp6aETxoYFYAe7E5Pc9gpojpQkUhoJO850Q" /><br /><br />"<b>Aprendiendo</b>"<br /><br />After a while you learn the subtle difference<br />Between holding a hand and chaining a soul.<br /><br />And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning<br />And company doesn't mean security.<br />And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts<br />And presents aren't promises,<br />And you begin to accept your defeats<br />With your head up and your eyes open<br /><br />And you learn to build all your roads on today<br />Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans<br />And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.<br />After a while you learn...<br />That even sunshine burns if you get too much.<br />So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,<br />Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.<br />And you learn that you really can endure... <br />That you really are strong <br />And you really do have worth... <br />And you learn and learn... <br />With every good-bye you learn. <br /><br />~ Jorge Luis Borges</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-47229870615700465482012-12-11T01:02:00.001+05:302012-12-14T14:13:55.633+05:30Gluttony and chocolate icing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few extra pounds: eating<br />
Pillsbury's chocolate icing,<br />
goes a long way, its my<br />
deviation from a bride<br />
waltzing with a figure in a<br />
tux; the bassoons playing.<br />
Its so far away...<br />
<br />
<img height="320" src="http://www.cheap-wedding-success.co.uk/images/how-deep-to-make-a-wedding-cake-21383427.jpg" width="230" /><br />
<br />
P.S. I wouldn't mind more cake, though!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-2909852160051532222012-12-10T14:11:00.000+05:302012-12-10T21:53:46.211+05:30On the bus ride home.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
there is little to do, in this hot, hot sun<br />
but watch passers by, as they<br />
dismount at each stop, few more wade in.<br />
sultry winds of change make it through <br />
the windows, with little ado,<br />
it's swelteringly humid, and my head<br />
pounds with the heat.<br />
i keep reminding myself, it's just a few<br />
more stops around the corner.<br />
but then, there goes again, the scurry<br />
of auto-mobiles and the waiting<br />
at each traffic signal, signs that imply<br />
this heat will never end.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-61571049941336671152012-12-07T23:44:00.001+05:302012-12-13T00:27:00.406+05:30Prelude to Insanity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
'Tis a glimpse of memory and of sanity,<br />
a narrow bridge, joining two souls;<br />
the heart which oscillates in serpentine marvel,<br />
in symphony, and mine.<br />
<br />
I cannot match again, his umbra of a soul.<br />
A figure that entwined with my own,<br />
a world of artifice.<br />
Now lie broken and charred pieces of<br />
porcelian, white.<br />
<br />
Time flows, as clocks tick;<br />
I'm but grit in the briny deep.<br />
I wait for the prelude and my epiphany<br />
sings, "here lies..." an epitaph marking two<br />
birds but one flesh. Ageing acutely,<br />
but damning the other's soul. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-82140307797347235662012-12-05T20:26:00.000+05:302012-12-05T23:05:36.854+05:30Little Things.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's the little things on my<br />
Mind right now, <br />
The things that count, <br />
And things which remind me <br />
Of a higher power, indelibly <br />
Watching over us as we play. <br />
<br />
<div>
It's the little things that make me<br />
Question, why people leave and not <br />
Stay by us forever, and why the sun <br />
Doesn't shine while it rains. </div>
<div>
It's the little things that I miss, <br />
What makes me sad and blue, <br />
When I don't want to. <br />
It's the little things that we don't <br />
Often see enough to appreciate. <br />
<br />
The Master, who heals us<br />
From the hurts that life scrapes on <br />
Our smooth mirrors; <br />
It's a test of patience, and <br />
Perseverance, for our faith <br />
In His Grace should never wane.<br />
He sets right all, that He has taken <br />
And gives back in equal measure.<br />
<br />
We ought to live, and <br />
Thank Him for the beauty <br />
He has graced our world with.<br />
He provides for us with food,<br />
And solace, to live and enjoy.<br />
Mother nature has planned<br />
To the greatest detail, our lives.<br />
And little thoughts on His gifts <br />
Would make all the difference.</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-16045966778121475472012-12-02T12:40:00.003+05:302012-12-05T16:48:18.042+05:30Reader's List<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
These are the books that have remained on my reading list for quite some time. They have been shelved now, due to the ongoing tests and semester-end-exams which commence on the 10th of December.<br />
<div>
I've decided to stick to this check-list and finish at least parts of it before I get caught up in the butterfly-wheel, as the next semester starts.<br />
<br />
1. The Casual Vacancy, J.K. Rowling<br />
<div>
2. Einstein: the Life and Times, Ronald W. Clark</div>
<div>
3. Fifty Shades Freed, E.L. James</div>
<div>
4. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Steig Larsson</div>
<div>
5. Sufism: the Heart of Islam, Sadia Dehlvi</div>
<div>
6. The Grand Design, Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinov<br />
7. A Brief History of Time, Stephen Hawking</div>
<div>
8. On Beauty, Zadie Smith<br />
9. Sam Walton: Made in America, John Huey</div>
</div>
<div>
10. The Associate, John Grisham<br />
11. The Turning Point, Fritjof Kapra</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I could add more to the pile that is already there, but it'd be asking for too much; like being overtly ambitious, given the lack of time. There's another list for perusing books that have already been read. I have forgotten parts of them, and for the sake of reliving a few beautiful and hilarious moments I'd like to leisurely skim over those pages.<br />
<br />
1. Gone With the Wind, Margaret Mitchell</div>
<div>
2. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K Rowling</div>
<div>
3. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte</div>
<div>
4. The House of the Spirits, Isabel Allende<br />
5. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, J.K. Rowling</div>
<div>
6. Angels and Demons, Dan Brown<br />
7. The Great Gatsby, Scott. H. Fitzgerald<br />
8. The Stone of Tears, Terry Goodkind<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
There might be more to add to this list, I'm just not able to think of at the moment. <br />
You just might be able to read more posts once my exams are over. Speaking of december, I have reasons to celebrate. Mom is returning home, and I'm awaiting a new DSLR, a smartphone and girly delights... chocolates, hair-straighteners and accessories. :P<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Js7GvIMnmZo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-19554513353454442192012-12-02T01:02:00.003+05:302012-12-02T01:27:58.036+05:30Roman Candles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">I haven't done justice to what I called real-time "blogging" for the past few weeks. I wasn't able to come up with interesting ideas or stuff to write about, apart from the poems in which I repressed my feelings in a ramble of unfinished lines and imagery. It's hard to be satisfied about what one writes. There are emotions involving things that appear out of the blue and one is tempted to add more to it, make it undecipherable and more complex than ever, rather than end a poem in peace. </span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
As Earnest Hemingway had it said, "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
So, this post is going to be about unsaid and trivial things that we ignore and take for granted, on an almost daily basis. I sound pretty sombre already. But that this is not on a sad note, it's just to perk us up a bit. It's about exuding a positive aura, to take experiences and turn them into lessons of learning. </div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Around the 18th of last month, I was blue all over again. Like being sloshed in mud and depraved of feeling good about myself. But I stepped out of it, as a wanderer steps out of the boat as he reaches a destination. I took to reading, spent time on the Internet, wrote poetry, admired heroic characters in books and slept, for my love of reading had been rekindled. I was rejoicing with the realization of being comfortable in my own company. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It felt good by not being able to feel for a while. But one can't help being solitary or straying for too long. Jack Kerouac said, "The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." And so, the love for people still burns...</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<img src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSIIn8bMnYXuMGQtC7pf11geLn8Rbzoubw6ImK4ELxMMJYtM1lzNg" /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-6876231216805004252012-11-28T02:04:00.000+05:302013-03-09T22:06:02.498+05:30Hideously Green<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
That green-eyed hulk,<br />
the monster from hell.<br />
Exuding wrath; shame<br />
being too trivial for him<br />
to heed. Risk it all, with<br />
blood thickly spewing<br />
resentment in the veins,<br />
many heart-thumping<br />
rushes and fancy-free<br />
meditation to spar with<br />
holier-than-thou thoughts,<br />
as they recede into a distant<br />
canopy of violins playing<br />
with a melody of pain,<br />
fear and ire. The green<br />
eyes smolder as deep<br />
emeralds in the pits of<br />
a fire, and churn with<br />
greed. For what is; and<br />
what could not be.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-25604712654295383962012-11-25T12:17:00.000+05:302012-11-25T00:57:18.558+05:30Books and flowers..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Over the edge of insanity and</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">back again to a place where</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">I belong, in the garden of books,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">flowers and champagne; a</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">treasury of thoughts, weighed</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">in gold and forged in timelessness.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">They present to me, a world</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">of possibilities; of escapism</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">from an immoral world, I</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">run but not too far away.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">Not for the lack of moral</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;">fiber, but to a happier place...</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.jezebelcharms.co.uk/images/persuasiongreeneck.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.jezebelcharms.co.uk/images/persuasiongreeneck.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<span style="text-align: left;">“I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.” ~ Jane Austen, Persuasion</span></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-55290805878474084202012-11-25T01:32:00.000+05:302012-11-24T17:20:19.665+05:30Balderdash<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Okay, so here goes...<br />
<br />
It's a Saturday afternoon, and I'm Spongebob in my favorite shorts, still too lazy to get out of the bed. And hail Patrick, the bed and I just luurve it. What's more, special thanks to the milky texture of bengali sweets. I've been eating kaju-barfi, since last night. It's only a matter of time before I bloat up like Spongebob! I have also been craving chocolate cake to sate my sweet-tooth. I may just get one and eat it all to drown out the misery and innate "noob"-iness, as a dear friend had once put it.<br />
<br />
So as calories come, there's no turning back. The fat I'm amassing in this temple of mine. I'm a baby after all. And one can't blame babies with a said prerogative. Sickening, isn't it? You might just be wrong, 'cuz I'm only but seeking to satisfy a craving for something that's mysteriously upsetting, filling in the empty spaces with rare treats. It's giving me a sense of false release... the binge-eating. Hence, I must stop. Period.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
On the brighter side, I have the whole weekend to myself. I will catch up on some reading. "The Casual Vacancy" - I would have donated a kidney to write it, serious stuff that it is. No more Potter-boys, bravado, fancies or magic to come to the rescue. J.k. Rowling has written her most serious book yet. I will most likely be posting a review once I'm done with it. Till then, adios amigos. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT2F5JiOsX5CCAi1ACB6UMNBe4Bsv3_HEkpemXWbtyVB9NM3CcgdiOffDqOvdSVVRQRRb1njvKr1R9yAWBYVDusDqZqRvcgBfisOalaX_B4qQ4rXIH8Cb3QwdkfyhmT_50ITEaOljltZo/s1600/IMG-20121114-00142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT2F5JiOsX5CCAi1ACB6UMNBe4Bsv3_HEkpemXWbtyVB9NM3CcgdiOffDqOvdSVVRQRRb1njvKr1R9yAWBYVDusDqZqRvcgBfisOalaX_B4qQ4rXIH8Cb3QwdkfyhmT_50ITEaOljltZo/s320/IMG-20121114-00142.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-18660328558527423032012-11-23T07:32:00.000+05:302013-03-09T22:06:08.658+05:30Sky-fall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's like being plunged<br />
into a sky-fall; I don't<br />
quite like the anticipation<br />
of what could be danger below.<br />
It's the clouds that mist<br />
over the horizon to the far<br />
left. And in this sinking pit of<br />
feeling, a crushing despair<br />
reverberates deep in my belly;<br />
an echo after another echo,<br />
the jolting crunch being too<br />
physically agonizing, for me<br />
to make a sound.<br />
<br />
It's like my impaled heart<br />
gave out moments before<br />
I hit reality, as a rock that hits<br />
the calm ocean. The fullness of<br />
the deep waters, measuring<br />
the empty spaces in my<br />
heart which skipped beats;<br />
moments before that sickening<br />
crunch, before I lost control.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-32412099816511900512012-11-22T18:24:00.001+05:302013-03-09T22:06:13.420+05:30Stray thoughts...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Character be defined by one's ability or strength to pull out of situations, sometimes such situations people simply must go through.<br />
<br />
Rather than foolishly ranting about it, I am the person who points out the positive side and talks about something good that I learned from it. <br />
And no, I am not ashamed to speak out anymore. Not afraid of the world anymore, nor the opinions that people would form about me. <br />
'Cuz getting hurt has scared me enough. If I'm to get hurt again, it's gonna be for a reason. And I control all those reasons,<br />
<br />
I am what I wanna be, and I speak out for myself; I am Me. And for those of you who speak, I don't give a rap... :)</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-46385719120818056902012-11-19T22:52:00.001+05:302012-11-21T20:31:35.768+05:30the Commandments<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Time for some emotional house-cleaning… <br />
<br />
1. Get into J-school.<br />
<br />
2. Become a prolific writer/speaker.<br />
<br />
3. Be the kind of person who is happy doing her thing, i.e. satisfied in her job.<br />
<br />
4. Be more vocal about thoughts and anything else that counts as well. <br />
<br />
5. Fear no one and dare to dream.<br />
<br />
6. Set my own benchmarks; personal goals. <br />
<br />
7. Earn. Speak and just live! <br />
<br />
8. And don't forget to eat.<br />
<br />
9. Forget 'bout yogi-bears and stuffed toys.<br />
<br />
10. Be what you want - an independent girl.<br />
<br />
11. While you're at this, don't get lost in the chase and forget to play.<br />
<br />
12. Read voraciously. And love the subtler things such as the weather, chocolate pastries and eye-candies.<br />
<br />
13. Adopt a homeless puppy, play with it and give it the endless love you have left to give. <br />
<br />
14. Travel, do some sight-seeing. Meet some new people.<br />
<br />
15. Have stories to tell, take lots of pictures. Blog!<br />
<br />
16. Address issues of society and the world that are longing to be written about.<br />
<br />
17. Admire nature. Go back to the age of romanticism. Read P.Shelley, Lord Byron and John Keats.<br />
<br />
18. Stow away your books, preserve them; archive them or set up a personal library. <br />
<br />
19. Think before being such a self-obsessed, compulsive megalomaniac. <br />
<br />
20. Drink diet coke and eat falafel.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-58677587056141567222012-11-18T16:35:00.001+05:302012-11-18T18:08:08.907+05:30Conundrum of the wave and the stretched rubber band.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
Theory of Waves.<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Waves. They are but jolty currents, as one rises the other falls. </li>
<li>Duality. They are dual in nature, which goes to show that they can function independently (as particles, as well as waves). <br />[Note: The migration of particles from a higher region to a lower region, and then back again, can be collectively termed as a "wave". There can be a sudden shift in the behavior of a particle to that of a wave, with or without prior notice.]</li>
<li>Storms. Waves are formed due to undercurrents that cause the movement of a calm medium, or water-body. In short, waves can lead to heavy tides, and then emotional flooding occurs which can lead to a storm, then an "emotional wreck"-ing occurs.</li>
<li>Tides. Tides are time-dependent, vary with respect to time. The amplitude of the wave depends upon the conditions of weather; temperature, friction in the atmosphere and the amount of love received. Tides are invariably a measure of this. High tides bring waves with high currents, and are therefore dangerous.</li>
<li>Love. It is an emotional variable that Venetians cannot live without. [Note: It is a dimensionless quantity.]</li>
</ul>
Theory of the Stretched Rubber Band.<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Behavior. It is an innate quality. The stretching, may or may not depend on the wave. It denotes the pulling away of the rubber-band from the abject of solace; it is a springing behavior. <br />[Note: this is independent of the dimensionless quantity, love].</li>
<li>Coefficient of elasticity. There can only be as much stretching as the
value of the coefficient allows. If the band overstretches, it refuses
to come back to its original position; or there can be an occasional
stretching, without prior notice. But it still keeps coming back to the
said position.</li>
<li>Space. It is a measure of the personal space the said Martian receives, and is dependent on time. <br />[Note: Space-time is a relative measure of the coefficient <i>c</i>, it can be related to the intensity of love; that which can travel at the speed of light.] </li>
<li>Power. The greater the stretch, the more the force of the springing rubber-band. And the faster it bounces back towards its original position. </li>
<li>Acquisition. The main abject of a springing rubber band is autonomy, acquisition of wealth, vigor and a healthy challenge. Innate qualities of a Martian and the ones that they live by.</li>
</ul>
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537219541775483139.post-40848597545121233662012-11-06T19:04:00.001+05:302012-11-21T21:02:01.111+05:30Born to die... Caged!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Time for a bit of realistic thinking...<br />
<br />
No more heady rushes, with my head in the clouds and hoping that great things will happen. Maybe it's time to put an end to exciting "bucket-lists", wisecracks and heck of the moment ideas! It's now time to choose, and I must choose wisely. I need all the help I can get.<br />
<br />
It's marred idealism that rules society with religious and ethical norms. But mostly it's the double standards that have withstood the test of time, its something that youth has relentlessly sought to change. I always wanted to be a thinker, to think out of the box and not be particularly influenced by the things that people usually succumb to. I don't want to be the pretty bird in a gilded cage. And I don't ever want to lose connection with the "craziness" that's vital to my inner fire and spirit. I don't want to die a sad death, old and toothless in bed. I'd rather be the flame that started the fire, inspire and be inspired myself.<br />
<br />
I guess it's all about to change. I've been given an ultimatum and its like my crazy dreams will never happen, as the rationality sets in. What's more, its worse to try and fight it. I can only try to have control over my life and hope that better doors open as a few doors close, maybe forever. I'd hate to give up, nor am I ready to face the sacrificial altar yet. "In order to gain something, one must lose something." But does it truly apply, when freedom of choice cannot be bartered with goodies or dealt with emotional blackmail? TO let go of something which you hold dear, in order to gain something that feels rather thrust upon you.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img height="550" id="il_fi" src="http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs23/i/2008/018/f/c/caged_canary__by_stickbugs.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="412" /></div>
<br />
Another stereotype, "We are women, born to suffer." To that my inner goddess pouts, <i>"I couldn't care less! Do see the light of the day for God's sake."</i> All this gender discrimination and bias has got to me.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I am "stealing" happy moments and spoils from the cookie jar. And never tickle a sleeping dragon if you can help it, because you never know when its gonna flame you like you're toast!<br />
<br />
So, the Game is On...</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4