Thursday, 29 January 2009

Where Are You From?

I have lost count of the number of times I have been asked this question. The idea behind it has always escaped me. Every time I move into a new social setting, unfailingly, someone asks it of me. I hate it, from the very core of my being. What is it supposed to determine?

I never give a straight answer. Mostly, I just ask people to guess; seeing how there are just 28 states in the country, you can only really go wrong 27 times. Unless I’m from a Union Territory, in which case, I can snag you on a technicality. Even then, that’s just 7 more.

But since it is such a popular question, here is the answer.



I come from a father who never shied away from using humour and sarcasm on his children, schooling them both for life and in intelligence. From a man who never brought his work home with him. A man who, whether he knows it or not, taught me to love grammar as I do.

I come from a mother who fiercely protected (and continues to attempt to protect) her children from every evil in the world, and succeeded for the most part of fifteen years. From a woman who poured her love for music into me for as long as I can remember.

I come from a family, from cousins who treated me as most people treat only their friends, as equals in all respects. From endless games of Boggle and Teen Patti played late into the night. From a group of like-minded, yet distinct individuals who subconsciously brought out the best in each other. I come from fifteen different music tastes melded into one.

I come from twelve years of everyday sport, of cricket, football, badminton and table tennis. I come from a childhood spent diving on grass, mud, gravel, shale and asphalt alike. I come from fifteen years spent running barefoot, over whatever the terrain may offer.

Last, and definitely nor the least, I come from surprisingly large groups of surprisingly close friends; at home, in school and through my three colleges. From theosophical discussions and professor bashing in dusty lecture halls.

That is where I come from.

Sunday, 11 January 2009

I am NOT a copywriter

Though my designation would have you believe so, don't listen or be fooled. I pretend to be one. And I've gotten so good at convincing people that I am one, I sometimes fool myself. But every now and then, a really great line comes my way and reminds me of what I'm degrading by posing as a copywriter.

Then what compels me to make so great a confession? I've just seen a whole bunch of these wonderful lines all in the same place. I've collected them here for you to feel the presence of greatness yourselves. You will know, undoubtedly, at a mere glance, where to find yourself such brilliance in the copywriting profession.

Give her pleasure with every stroke - we assure you, it's no joke
Don't let the unsatisfying size of your friend steal your manhood.
Click everybody

Your manliness has never been bigger.
Every woman is dieing to sleep with a well-endowed man.

Get better in making it with her
You can be the best bed partner ever with our natural male assistant.

Get smashing love power
The best and easiest way to improve your lovemaking
is the improvement of your love instrument.

A man with a big member has a shining look on his face.
Every extra inch down there brings more pleasure to her and more confidence to you.
Come At This Moment

Boost your men power.
All medications to cure yourself!
Clicke HERE !

Gift perfect sexual life to your girlfriend.
Few steps to become healthy!

In case you thought they only talked about one thing, you're wrong. These guys are versatile.

Add a touch of class to your life style with extremely high quality replica watches

But it's these lines that follow that brought me almost to tears with their absolute brilliance.

Girls will drop underwear for you
Show your woman high peaks of pleasure and she will worship your unique abilities.

You'll call it Peter the Great
Give woman the first thing she expects from you - the unforgetable pleasure.

Give your rocket best fuel
Make your love locomotive enter her tunnel on a full speed.


Tuesday, 6 January 2009

My Lovely Little World

I exist only in my head. My world is in my head. It is a wonderful world. It's like clockwork. It's beautiful. It's an amazing place to be. It keeps me happy. It also defines me.

I know this.

Try as much as you want, you can't get in there. Not unless I let you in. Only trouble is, you won't know you're there. You see, if I've let you in, I've completely forgotten to tell you you're there. Because if I think you deserve to be there, I also think I don't need to tell you you're there.

Which begs another question. If you're in my world, and you don't even know that you're there, does that mean that all there is of you in my world is an idea of you? And if this is true, do I really care for you, or for the idea of you?
I hope I am, at last, naked before my own eyes. I can dig no further.

Monday, 5 January 2009

The Old Man, His Bed Partner & Their Third Wheel

Retrospect, that old, sadistic geezer, hooked up with long time beau Wisdom, and together with their partner in crime and mockery, Lady Luck, decided to whip up a potent little batch of something to blow my eyes and my mind open. If I get the time in the next few days, I'll explain.

Talk about making a felicitous start to the year.