1. Good News: Japan and New Zealand have conquered Corona. They are however reluctant to share the formula with the rest.
2. Aaj Tak showed 92 news bytes in its super fast 100 at morning 7:00.
3. The number of people dead due to Corona was reported to be 170 yesterday and today. What are the odds? God of death abides by some rules. It would have been better if 172 or 163 people died yesterday.
4. I am waiting for stadium to open in my city. Heat wave. Police sirens. Ailing depressed youth. Crying daily wage earners. Gloomy future. Japanese and American are working and my countrymen being poor are left in the dark. I will compare. Aren’t we humans too.
1. I am facing the music. It mostly has sirocco zephyr and chirping chirality typhoons spoons.
2. The screen has a few more cracks. As usual my dead furthers his procrastination on new smartphone and mummy is a slave.
3. I had lost my wallet by 9 o clock yesterday night. Logos. I gained it by 9 o clock this morning. It had 1115₹. You might assume that I am rich. Truth is: 222 ₹ per day is the cutoff for below poverty line income in India. I have no job or source of income. This money is from tuition fee in 2018. I don’t have requisite documents to receive government help for Below Poverty Line people. I can’t afford to buy petrol for my bike or coffee pouches for long. I need tuitions to further my career.
4. I wouldn’t have dared to report loss of my wallet if I hadn’t regained it. In that case: my carelessness and failure in rediscovering it would have been an agony in print. I went at around 11 in night to search it using the smartphone torch and I couldn’t.
Now: it’s a report about my good fortune and solace of quanta.
5. Body is sweating profusely and am getting addicted to two rupees pouches of Nescafe instant coffee. The brand doesn’t need likes of me for endorsing it . It’s a conditioning. Bike and coffee go hand-in-hand. And you tend to gain weight faster than you think. As I am sweating : weight is melting flab in lab labile smile . Miles to go before frost bucket list Milo sorghum beghum hummingbird iridescent descent scent of cenotaphs.
6. Writing heavily depends on weather, place and overheard conversations. I am consistently inconsistent these days.
7. Take for example: the reading of the constitution of India. Procrastination. Pramadi is the name of Vikrama Samvatsara. I might return to read the page four only when Nautanki is over.
8. Excessive fasting is evil. Penance is evil unless you know how to immediately switch over to positive from the negative. Blind imitation is evil. And what is evil? A rhetorical device.
9. We had many tenants. My father knew how to use every nook and corner for business. For the want of concentration I kept fighting. I went to my aunt’s place to study during a marriage ceremony. If I had the talent I would have stopped all marriages like this with a snap of fingers and expelled the tenants out but then what about our studies? Oh since both my parents did grade three clerical jobs like evaluation of answer notebooks and dancing before education or administrative officers, everything except teaching kids: it would have sufficed. My father might have had difficult time drinking and whoring out. My mother always had enough money to show off gold and jewelry in shoddy marriages and all her energy was devoted to her mother’s house and relationship with her brothers and sisters. My father being ambitious reluctantly followed the suit. He kept abusing his in-laws and yet all he wanted was their respect because they were mostly class two government servants.
10. Wednesday is 100. Mercury is Thoth the Alchemist. The white wing and Heather divine feather.
11. One of the tenants was named Ishvara Singh. He worked in the police department. His younger son who has visited us couple of times in last few months was a funny and energetic chap in his childhood.
Barely barley ley glorious sly@
My sibling had developed a formula to cope with my whimsical father’s wrath as he arrived. Being a Virgo Sun my father had a critical eye on household while he himself did little more than beating my mother after getting drunk. I used to see if buckets were filled as he needed to use water to wash himself up after having whored himself out to feudal lords of the region. He was suspicious of my mother’s character and I don’t know when exactly it happened but many demons were using his body as he used to talk about divorcing her very often. Buy it didn’t happen.
My brother used to recite whole chapter of civics as soon as he heard father’s scooter reaching while I used to work. The youngest sibling used to go out for emptying his bowels whenever there was a critical emergency and it was never understood why dead couldn’t recognise my siblings’ repeated recital of only one chapter. He had memorized it so well that he didn’t need notebook. No matter which game we were playing or where we were he started chanting as soon as he heard the scooter sound and lighting and behold he was immediately out of the danger. A protective charm he had developed. He also might have shield for us. He also played a key role in persuading my father to give up on alcohol. But strange: he continued using marijuana, tobacco and smoking and they all attacked me together when I was found using a little of marijuana.
12. Shubham or Shivam was the name. This son of the aforementioned tenant was akin to my brother a smart chap. His mother was illiterate. Whenever she got irritated with him and his siblings and ran after him with a cone or stick or broom, to beat him up, he used to run towards the roof on the stairs. They were 16. They are still 16, after 20 years. On step number 4 or 5 – with any book he could get his hands upon to support his act; he used to yell with his lungs full–
” My parents are great,
They don’t mock anyone,
They jump on the train as soon as they see it,
And they don’t quarrel.”
Holy mother of Vows@@@@
It was to make me dumbfounded, astounding dingo goading grounded without luggage. That guy was a raw genius!@@#$-&+*-
What in the names of heavens was he chanting~ And why did it work~
13. Usha Utthu sang a song Didi…Didi. And I used it to pull the leg of his younger sister named did. Oxymoron. Onion oncology gyrations.
14. The only Delhi girl whom I half-heartedly proposed for I knew it wasn’t going to happen and she was semi sincere didn’t take any of my calls until I called her a record 34 times. To say- don’t be so serious. I was kidding . I have done that with two other boys. I might have married you if you had a house in Delhi plus John Abraham body plus a dead who was a magistrate as well as dead plus adventurous spirit to drive 6 hours overnight to just meet me plus discotheque voolibah minus Jalaluddin Rumi plus limousine plus ability to handle my poor spirit etcetera. She knew — I was using her for improving my scribbling practice.
Anyways- one of the colleagues lost his father. We went to see him off to the Chennai International Airport. Early morning– I saw Usha Utthu with her friend. And Didi didi badi khusi hoi… This guy used to call those girls 56 times. It was then when they told it to me– I realized how big vast the world and how desperate I might have seemed in my pursuit of obsessive compulsive scribbling spamming and flooding in the name of holy Dr. Win Wenger Phd.
1. This post is inspired by the latest on Goodreads.xom
2. Thanks Sarah. I took 8 minutes 50 seconds as I lost my patience by Gilbert. Friedman seems like a familiar name.
3. I have written more than 10000 hours. Maybe its multiples. Does it show up in my writing? Maybe not. The one who coined the formula got to be the pioneer not the rest in the queue is the law. This article, for example would at best be called a leech. I didn’t know longreads was serving the US audience nor did I think so about the Automatically generated fresh articles. All people deserve their desserts so do I.
4. Dr. Win Wenger and Richard Poe inspired me a great deal in 2003 to become writer via their book The Einstein Factor. Only few youngsters paid me a few bucks for English tuitions and nobody recognises me as an author. I had a combination in my horoscope which suggested I would be an author. I lost patience a long ago and now this blog primarily serves the causes of alleviation of hunger and euthanasia for all. Nobody among my friends has ever acknowledged my greatness as writer:
Therefore to sum it up: I am a novice with nothing better to do. I wholly agree with Sarah Mckedd about myth of greatness and hope to become mature enough to write in way that pleases audience in US and elsewhere.
Courtesy: words as triggers mostly taken from World Food Program website Free Rice. Kindly raise awareness for alleviation of hunger in your house, world and cosmos at large. Kindly do mitzvah and
8. Dehiscence scene embo point an Anschluss drayfuss fustion ionised Sedona Donna Madonna midriff riffraff far-off offerings ensures resplendent dentists that accept your offer.
2. Rishi Kapur passed away. He was a big celebrity. RIP.
3. Neighborhood was quiet until it wasn’t quiet. The boy was shouting his throat out. The mom was being reasonable and slightly goading.
4. I asked for a new smartphone. They said this one was a reward for my cleaning the house before Diwali. I cleansed and they gave me a second hand already hacked device with cracks on screen. I didn’t ask for it but now I need a better smartphone to write better. Earlier I used a laptop and used to wonder how someone blogged using smartphone with tiny screens, now, I count the blessings of being able to focus sharper.
5. Sky has some haziness. Not enough to provide solace. Birds and kittens talk to me sometimes. I mingle well with those on night rounds to keep the fort intact and I do it better when I don’t have a smartphone in the pocket of my runners.
6. I asked them– “Do you remember, a banyan tree used to be here, in this complex, pointing to the field nearby?”
“We haven’t been here for that long–was the answer” as expected.
7. I recalled later–mango tree it was. It had given innumerable carries for us as kids, even when we kept pelting stones at it. Now a young Neem tree is dancing in its place.
By David Lynch. Mystery. It’s still the best mystery movie I have ever watched. It’s crafted using a dreamlike sequence of images. His silent movie Rabbits is included into the narrative to create a brilliant effect. I was, am and shall always remain in awe of this masterpiece until I see something better.
2. WakingLife
Richard Linklater”s masterpiece is the best animated movie of its kind. It has philosophy and reality embedded in just the proper proportions. Dream is the destiny if you chose number four.
3. TheGrave of Fireflies
This is the most powerful tragedy ever created onscreen in its effectiveness. The scene in which the young one asks if he should call a doctor for his elder brother tore my heart and eyes like never before. That such a situation could arise because of our being too power hungry and warlike and insensitive to the suffering of our neighbours, just haunts you as a haunting existential nightmare.
Dancing light of grace 