tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90746610882162884882012-01-07T02:17:54.906+05:30-A rare species. Writes articles that are ACTUALLY worth reading.insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.comBlogger651100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-63867058496191608712012-01-01T12:27:00.002+05:302012-01-01T12:45:59.572+05:30

Ola Everyone,Now that 2012 has bulldozed over 2011 (my first, and hopefully last, entire year of being in USA), I bring thee my inevitable New Year challenges to myself. No, I will not call them resolutions, because in that format, they tend to bog me down. The 1000 Mile Challenge. No I did not make that up. There's even a Facebook page dedicated to it. Yes, all you cynical folks, I am committing

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-79485065076450969702011-12-09T08:22:00.002+05:302011-12-13T20:20:10.630+05:30

The Black Cloud by Fred HoyleMy rating: 5 of 5 starsThere is little doubt why Richard Dawkins nominates this book as "one of the greatest works of science fiction ever written". In his quaint manner Sir Hoyle presents a wonderful story which is entirely plausible, scientifically grounded and gripping enough to have you racing through the pages. I really loved the protagonist Chris Kingsley's

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-73532811579511989642011-12-08T01:33:00.001+05:302011-12-08T01:33:56.098+05:30

The Bell Jar by Sylvia PlathMy rating: 4 of 5 starsA really well-written book that touches a chord for it honesty, simplicity and wit, I can understand why Plath's "The Bell Jar" has gone on to become one of America's Classics. In this semi-autobiographical novel, Sylvia Plath tells the story of her teenage years through The tale of Esther Greenwood. I really enjoyed this story of a girl plunged

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-87070543496070267862011-06-24T07:12:00.001+05:302011-06-24T07:12:40.194+05:30

Wow, I haven't had such an unproductive day in ages. What a total waste!

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-34633646819940924842011-06-23T08:27:00.002+05:302011-06-23T08:34:01.067+05:30

Today was officially the second day of summer as the day after the summer solstice. Well if this is the beginning of summer, Raleigh is very much in for a good roasting till Fall brings it coolness. Now that summer is said to have officially begun, I've searched in vain for the to-do list that I had excitedly made before the summer term could start. Whatever it was on the list, I do know that I

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-40644712482796250002011-06-21T21:31:00.002+05:302011-06-21T21:34:21.242+05:30

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale HurstonMy rating: 3 of 5 starsSPOILERS AHEAD- BEWAREAfrican American literature really does have gems of books. I liked this touching story of fair-skinned Janie Crawford through her three marriages. Majority of the book is written in phonetic spellings, which was surprisingly not difficult for me to read . Janie is brought up by her grandmother and at

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-22419433881957744102011-04-09T07:33:00.004+05:302011-04-09T07:53:15.943+05:30

Recently I've been addicted to talks on TED, and while stumbling along from one inspiring/funny/informative/a-host-of-other-positive-adjectives talk to another, I ran into Eric Whitacre. His idea of a virtual choir was simply so ingenious and it made me ponder two things:1) The power of music to change- from our momentary fickle moods to world-wide unity. 2) The power of modern technology which

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-77140836235744713142011-02-09T06:44:00.003+05:302011-02-09T07:56:20.610+05:30

It's been an interesting day.Not interesting in an earth-shaking or mind-befuddling way, but interesting in a very typical, steady and busy day.No, not interesting enough to suddenly bring thoughts of bringing my long-dead blog back to life; somehow the need just arose all on its own- an impulse if you must. So many changes have happened since I last posted- so many that to run through them all

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-85983158854881224172010-07-05T10:16:00.003+05:302010-07-05T10:52:18.815+05:30

Its been a really long time since I wrote something. And THAT is an understatement. It isn't that I didn't have anything to write about; I suppose I needed something that would snap me out of the self-imposed lethargy from the written word. And today it simply happened. It started innocently enough... I shall join the hordes of Engineers who leave their motherland for the Land of Dreams- USA.

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-79605913930480240752009-07-13T19:24:00.005+05:302009-07-14T17:05:39.603+05:30

It's been too long. I know. I really want to post something but there is some voice inside me that just doesn't let me write anymore. Even if I managed to put together a few lines, I feel an overwhelming urge to delete it when I proofread it... an urge which I usually find quite difficult not to give in to.I have finally decided that I really need to kick-start my rusty old blog again... and thus

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-25542705199113657472009-04-10T23:27:00.002+05:302009-04-10T23:32:07.911+05:30

When the secretary of the Civil Engineering Association asked me to write something "informal" for the Department magazine "Arena", I tried for hours, obviously in vain, to write something short and funny, something along the lines of what I used to write before. I finally gave up and took out trusty weapons- a few rhyming words. When the world bursts with lack of spaceAnd lands overflow in the

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-502506936985323902008-12-21T19:52:00.004+05:302008-12-21T20:28:49.571+05:30

What is with this world?Why are we all this way? When have we become these needy, slimy, egoistic, chauvinistic morons? When has the entire concept of happiness been flushed down the drain? How has everything come to be so damn wrong?Its not anything new that I'm writing here. I'm sure every sane one of you out there (are there any left?) have wondered about this at least in one fleeting, very

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-87543068658790201042008-07-04T11:25:00.003+05:302008-07-04T11:28:06.787+05:30

The little wooden houseWith the white picket fenceHow I'd love such a placeTo live and to grow.Always constant, always stableA place to cherishAnd to build memoriesA place to grow old.The rusty bicyclesWith balancing wheelsAnd The little blue carParked in the garage.The tyre swing swayingThe bird bath twitteringThe little frog pondThe sun-kissed garden.With the tulips and rosesSpewing heavenly

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-41050919660015500562008-06-30T13:31:00.004+05:302008-06-30T13:34:52.107+05:30

The mind is a very powerful thing.The strongest point of the human mind is its capability to put up facades. And its most cunning feature? After a while, even you yourself fail to identify the facades anymore. Your heart clamours for attention... you are filled with needs and wants of love. You desparately hope that people care. You crave their time... you wish they would spare a moment for

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-45481274368404815462008-06-27T11:05:00.005+05:302008-06-30T13:25:49.094+05:30

The pain wasn't what you'd call extreme or intolerable.But yeah, it was paining all the same.I mean what was I thinking? What else should happen if anyone tried to involve themselves in as extreme an act of stupidity as I did? What else would I expect from being overly impulsive and leaping before I could think for a minimum of two shakes? What else should happen when my annoying conscience jumps

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-40489179456302727052008-05-11T15:24:00.003+05:302008-05-11T15:46:34.936+05:30

I'm done with teenage.That's a horrifying thought.The "threshold" of adulthood is past... and I'm about to step in. I cannot fathom how time seems to make a fool out of me every single time. How do the years flow by so quickly?Nineteen. I turned nineteen today.I don't feel fit to be nineteen... I'm not responsible nor am I dutiful. I'm still a childish, careless, carefree, irresponsible,

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-65955714238728137332008-05-10T06:33:00.003+05:302008-05-10T16:17:26.035+05:30

Crimson blushesSudden rushes Full red roses To bury our nosesCoy smilesWith bashful eyes Lingering touches Unexpected clutchesStolen kissesRepeated reminisces Warm hugs Tiny heart tugsSleepless nightsClandestine delights Hopeful dreams Wishing in teemsWhispered wordsHeart string harpsichords Oh how I love Being in love.:)

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-75306671561874486372008-05-02T07:08:00.007+05:302008-05-02T17:21:54.857+05:30

A very wise person once said, "Be careful what you wish for".Well despite that one admonition that keeps ringing in my ears perennially, there are only so many predictions about the things that can go haywire with any particular wish, which I can anticipate before.But seriously, which girl in her right mind wouldn't wish to look like Angelina Jolie?To be specific, which girl who, within living

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-66790316921295657472008-04-28T18:07:00.002+05:302008-04-28T18:18:34.989+05:30

I'm very much rusted.It's been a long time since my fingers had settled to the comfortable tap-tap of fluttering across in a thoughtful, confident and fluid-like manner over the good old qwerty. My thoughts are scattered and broken.I really have no one to blame for this... if anyone is to be blamed, it must be me- for I have let a once-dear-to-me hobby fall prey to the insatiable hunger of

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-21183393903004068582008-03-13T23:39:00.005+05:302008-06-30T13:36:52.521+05:30

Tomorrow flies closer, today runs byObliterating the days before you are to flyNothing can take you away and I can betYou are the one I'll never forget.I can never tell how I'll miss you so.Love is an overused word, drained of meaningOpen is my soul, it needs no telling.Vacant, when you walk out the doorEach day my heart will miss you more.You are the one to whom I'm the closestOf all my memories

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-67541267328040670152008-02-29T21:30:00.005+05:302008-02-29T21:42:30.718+05:30

Save up to spend on a rainy day.Nice thought that one is.I really couldn't get any more glad that the year brought with it an extra day... an extra twenty and four hours brought together by amassing the small amount of hours ignored in the previous three years. A surplus amount to spend when required, a time of dire need.Of course, I do not proclaim to have any control whatsoever on having this

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-55210075971353143882008-02-15T18:06:00.004+05:302008-02-15T18:32:35.780+05:30

Shards of glass, they areThe wordsSharp, painfulCuttingShe spews them.She spews themWith no warningNo reason at allArrows shoot onFrom her tongue.From her tongueThe vile lyricIt never endsShe is unconcernedThey are shards of glass.

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-80193129238235303242008-02-12T17:39:00.001+05:302008-02-12T17:46:44.731+05:30

Spring Spree, the annual cultural fest of NIT Warangal is from March 7-9th. Oodles of fun and loads of cash prizes await one and all! :)Be there and Join the REVELution!Do check out the Spree blog and Spring Spree website for more details :)

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-47445859286635710282008-01-01T22:01:00.000+05:302008-01-01T22:21:04.375+05:30

Another year gone... the last traces of its colour have finally merged into the clear waters of time... the twelve months drawing yet another line on the face of humanity.The time marking yet another generation closer to the threshold of living.Yet another year. Yet another dawn of a new year.Giving false impressions of hope and idle promises of a better life... hinting at a chance of redemption

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-89650822305862661052007-12-09T14:46:00.000+05:302007-12-09T15:43:30.536+05:30

How much time does it take to truly forget? How many years... decades... will it take to just let that scalding event slip from one's mind... the vividness of its colours replaced by the comforting voidness of black... its clanging sounds muted and suppressed? How many eons will pass before every little thing in the world stops reminding me of what I had done? How much time does it require for

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-16438018772985993662007-12-06T07:34:00.000+05:302007-12-06T07:49:39.458+05:30

The tumbler overflowedWhite creamy milkSteam rose from itCarving mystic designsIn the frigid winter airMy bare frozen fingersTrembled in the burning comfortReluctant to drink it awayMy lips refused to touchThe warm comfort of steel.Heat, it ebbed away Too soon, it was timeTo drink it upSlowly I dipped My finger in the lukewarm liquidDrew out the cream Threw it awayRaised the tumblerFilled with

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-67914932494450070802007-11-18T17:18:00.000+05:302007-11-19T00:47:34.517+05:30

I sell stray catsIn the back alley of Salmon St.Yellow ones, Black onesOnes with bitten ears. With scars on their facesThin ones with missing fur.Wild ones seething with angerSmall ones plaintive with hunger.I have them allAll kinds, every kindSolely stockedFor your evil pleasure.I trap them all,Catch them in my avarice.Steal them youngFrom overprotective mothers.It doesn't concern meWhat you'll

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-89220254345592591712007-11-17T21:26:00.000+05:302007-12-09T16:24:21.349+05:30

Insecure, she's so insecureThe little doubts nagging and rantingTrying to tell her for sureThere is no point in breathing.The muscles are crampedAround her pretentious lipsSmiles and laughter never going dampedShe's always ready with intelligent quips.The night finds her alone and cryingInside the room where none can seeHer happy mornings mocking her lyingWhen tumultuous emotions burst out

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-86493937891367871312007-11-17T21:14:00.000+05:302007-11-17T21:21:40.761+05:30

UglyIt's so easyTo be uglyBeautyIt's so much funTo make it undone.So easy.It's scaryHow's its so easyIts too easy.TinyBeauty is so tinyCompared to uglyPick up beautyCut it violentlyEasy, go easyIt's easyNowBeauty is ugly.

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-49289285501046522342007-11-15T12:12:00.000+05:302007-12-09T16:31:22.868+05:30

The silent tearSalty and sadReeking of tragedyBut unbeknown to all The stench, it findsOnly the very tipFrom where it falls.The taste is uglyUpon the crooked lipsIt falls slowBut a steady streamIt fallsFor a kind smileWhich never comes.

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-7664091548217559852007-10-19T08:30:00.000+05:302008-06-30T13:38:08.572+05:30

The silent nightHaunting, beautifulRipples across the placid faceOf the still lakeI slide my toe tipsInto the chilled depthsAnd taste the sweetVirgin pearlsOf lustrous rain.The moment lostIn reveries of memoriesA heart full,Mixing in the rainI fly up and aboveTo the dimpled faceOf shining moonAnd I peekTo watch you sleepA smile tugs your lipsAs my moonlit fingersCaress your angelic face.A touch

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-933734393573163002007-10-19T08:09:00.000+05:302008-06-30T13:36:36.526+05:30

Caught in tuneless whispersBringing unconscious pleasuresCarried on, for many a mileSung on, with a smileAlways on your lipsCausing little tongue slipsAlive forever in your heartWritten by Beethoven or MozartA little melodyOr a glorious symphonyA play of your breathFrom birth to my deathThere is nothing more that I wantIf I'm a tune that can haunt...Oh how I would love to belongIn your memory as

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-25998295909339076052007-10-15T14:47:00.000+05:302007-12-09T16:24:21.349+05:30

The scared little girlShe hides and criesHer tears soak her pillowHer heart bursting in griefMuffling her broken soundsBehind the locked doorShe is lonelyShe hurts every timeWhen they shoutShe does not understandAnd yet they yellShe feels worthlessNothing is enoughHer fingertips dropBloodRed against the white marbleThe strings they cutAnd she welcomes the painA proof that she is aliveStill

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-53339928655766221782007-10-15T14:42:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:38:07.022+05:30

Stand at attention, utterly motionless in pouring rain.Jump into puddles guaranteed to spray mud onto the person unfortunate enough to walk past you at that moment.Dress up like the Wicked Witch of the West and run wildly screaming, "ARRRRRRGGGHHH!!! I'm MELTING!!!!!".Carry mosquito liquid spray and use it every five seconds wildly jabbering on about Dengue fever and Chikungunya.Walk with your

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-46434337420933154772007-10-15T14:38:00.000+05:302007-12-09T16:20:11.305+05:30

The water,She caresses meShe flowsSoftly, gentlyAround me.Sunlight playsShining over herIn glorious splendourTurning tiny dropsInto priceless diamonds.Peaceful, the soundAs she playsLaughing and gigglingOver and UnderAs she meandersAnd circumnavigates me.The water,She made me pureFiled away mySharpness and angerDetermined, she worksBeyond the bounds of timeOver my pebbled body.Laughter, itFills

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-46276800966742846172007-10-15T14:31:00.000+05:302008-06-30T13:38:08.572+05:30

I stand in the shadowsI watch you quietlyLost in the crowdI stare at youYou're so far awayFrom my yearning soulBut close enoughFor youTo shorten my breathMy heart beats wildlySo loudAnd erraticYet, you do not know.You don'tHear the piningIt does for you.I'm lost in the noiseOf everyday lifeYou do not seeI'm invisibleYou play your guitarLike my heartstringsYou're there everywhereHow you haunt

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-26476780081043488152007-10-15T14:29:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:37:31.910+05:30

Look, it's not a sin or anything... It's not like it harms anyone or anything... and I pretty much restrict it to my own room. You would think the "Keep Out" sign on my door would help. Unfortunately, my Mother the Great can sniff out a tiny messy broom closet in the 120-storeyed tower with thousands of rooms in each floor.Well on most days I protect my

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-1703526680545040172007-10-15T14:27:00.001+05:302007-12-09T18:38:42.053+05:30

You know sometimes, you get into one of those moods to just get in gear and show off a lil bit? Pack yourself with that bit of oomph and blow the eyes of good, God-fearing people away into the mighty heavens? Or is it the bowels of hell? You know, let-me-stand-out-and-be-loud and conventions-be-damned and no-I-ain't-aping-the-west-this-is-my-style moods... Well anyway it shouldn't come as much of

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-91579059368691091772007-10-15T14:23:00.001+05:302008-06-30T14:45:58.339+05:30

Don't you hate it when you fall sick? Don't you absolutely detest it when you wake up in the morning feeling like a thousand spiders are crawling up your throat and you couldn't swallow even if it would prevent the entire Universe from being blown into smithereens? Don't you loathe yourself when you can't just put one leg in front of the other to make it to the bathroom which is just two feet

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-43167707128823245752007-10-15T14:19:00.001+05:302007-12-09T18:43:31.445+05:30

Lately I've been having these strange attacks. They come without any warning... it's different each time... sometimes, they flash through me like lightening through a lightening conductor... sometimes, they creep into me slowly like molasses and honey trickling and settling down in your tummy.Nostalgia.Such a beautiful word.And since I've had quite a few of these, I thought I can blog about them

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-74860214836552426602007-10-15T14:15:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:43:56.332+05:30

Let's be frank here. I'm not exactly skinny. No wait, that would be an understatement. Well... I'm more on the heavier side than I am on the lighter side.Oh all right.Without mincing words, I'm fat.Not only am I rolly-polly miss molly, I lack muscles. And as is the case with most muscle-and-stamina-lacking-and-on-the heavy-side people, lifting myself up is a nightmare that I don't dare to

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-28300586662242977262007-10-15T14:14:00.001+05:302008-06-30T13:38:08.573+05:30

I loved you since foreverI needed youWanted you.I knew I could never have you...Or so I thought.You came to meOut of the blueA stroke of lightningMeeting the parched earth.And you held meIn loving armsOh I had youAnd I loved youYou were mineFor now and forever.Miles between usNever did countMonths between usNever did matter.It was all butOh such a sweet tortureEndurable.You were thereAfter allIn

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-26741831978076019872007-10-15T14:09:00.001+05:302007-12-09T16:20:11.306+05:30

I'll close my eyesAnd shut them tight.I'll curl my fistsAnd pull them inI'll lie down on the rockAnd scrunch up smallI'll pretend hardThat I'm sleeping awayI'll hold myself inAnd not freezeThe naked stone on my skin,I'll let it score meTill I'm rawI'll bleed awayBut I'll not die.I hold myself downAs they want me tooI'll do it for eternityAnd I won't speakI'll hold myselfLike a

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-42677221185836505602007-10-15T14:01:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:44:19.213+05:30

Dear Wei,When I first saw you, oh-so-adorable in your blue jacket, staring back at me across the aisle in the super market... I knew. Right then itself I knew you were the one I was waiting for. You were what I've been lacking my entire life.It was Destiny.The Hand of Fate.Kismet.We were made for each other... custom designed to go together. The first time I saw you itself, I knew I wanted you...

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-71968909648359504552007-10-15T13:56:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:44:41.253+05:30

Lizzy landed straight on my palm.The math class had begun very much the usual way. The Sir had gone leaving us some problems to solve. As usual, tongues started wagging as soon as he stepped out, and I was no exception.Like everyone else, I was juggling the pen in one hand, doing the problems jotted down on the white board and using my other hand to punctuate the conversation I was having with

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-60699214327943983902007-10-15T13:20:00.000+05:302008-06-30T13:38:08.573+05:30

How innocent thoughts are when first love's breeze touches the heart... This article is nostalgic to me. I hate love. I hate all the feelings it inspires in me. I hate the vulnerability it brings me and the power it gives him to hurt me beyond description. I hate the pain, the anxiety and the stupid hope it gives me. I hate it for the inevitable desolation it is sure to bring me. I hate the way I

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-32853281797358662862007-10-15T13:11:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:45:58.684+05:30

I closed my eyes and ran blindly,But I couldn't stop the pain from haunting meI screamed out loud till my throat diedBut still the memory lay fresh in my mindI cried till no more tears cameBut everything remained garishly the sameI held myself down in a lonely poolBut somebody pulled me out to face all the ridiculeI curled myself up and tried to asleepBut insomnia wouldn't leave me; I was in too

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-4812686605213134012007-10-15T13:07:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:46:26.143+05:30

It all started with a microscopic projection on my right cheek. It was so tiny that the most advanced electron microscope would have never detected it. Oh, but it was detected all right- by my mother's admirable eyesight which has to use reading glasses for reading newspaper headlines. Surrendering to her badgering, I applied a generous proportion of turmeric over it. Next day, I went to school

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-9657343050191688552007-10-15T12:49:00.001+05:302007-12-09T16:30:48.391+05:30

You held me lovingly,A month old babe I was.You taught me how to read,Patiently, with infinite care.You rebuked me gently,When I wronged gravely.You were eternal and foreverI felt, I took you for granted.I saw you once a yearIn those few days,You gave me so muchYou gave me my art, my soul.You took pride in me,You made me feel worthy.But, you went away,Yes you did, with no warning.And I'm left

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-84410594116777514622007-10-15T12:45:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:47:02.991+05:30

Nowadays all my time is being eaten up by filling up of innumerable forms application forms for various entrance examinations to different colleges, each form being more eccentric than the previous one in its rules and regulations. In another one of those inevitable trips to the photo studio for another ton of passport-sized photographs, a funny thing happened (if you could call it that...)As we

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-40182524129893737872007-10-15T12:42:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:30:45.038+05:30

I was looking through my journal for the year 2005 and I came across this poem, which I wrote for the on-the-spot Versification competition at the Youth Fest last year. The topic was "The Promise", and I was in a quirky mood. So, I wrote this silly poem that, surprisingly, fetched me the first place. So, I thought I'd better immortalise it on this blog.Confessions of a Born WeightlifterIt started

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-74197464689495684422007-10-15T12:16:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:47:57.081+05:30

Yes, I'm an Indian.And, yes I'm proud of it.And no, I'm not supporting the broken roads, the irreparable pipelines or the poverty. This post is all about being Indian and being proud of it.This one has been with me for quite some time now. My classmate had been raised in the US for many years and she keeps telling me about how neat the place is, how picture-perfect the roads are, how rich the

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-3773179901591175492007-10-15T12:09:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:50:00.053+05:30

This is a blog written on account of my turning sixteen... Thought it was worth putting up. It's amazing reading what you wrote over two years ago. Tells you how much you've changed... for the better or for the worse is debatable.Three days ago, I turned sixteen.This is not something of importance to the world, but it was a very important milestone in my life. I would like to point out attention

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-84084928522274560102007-10-15T12:06:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:51:02.669+05:30

It isn't often when a daughter gets to stare down her regal nose, wag her accusing finger and tell her parents very pompously, "I told you so". Like any sane daughter I found this experience most gratifying.Well, sort of.As the summer rolled by, along with the heat came the countless mangoes.Mangoes grow throughout the better part of the country and everywhere the eye stretched, all that was

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-3886491575544902912007-10-15T11:59:00.000+05:302008-06-30T13:38:08.574+05:30

I just read the most Pathetic story ever.To be fair, the writer must have put in a lot of effort to think of such an obviously baseless stupidity. Oops there I go critisizing again...Hell there seems to be a radical shift in my outlook now. I do not know why I''ve changed, maybe I've turned cynical or maybe its the fact that I've realized that reality is never so picture-perfect. Either way, the

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-85761434492865582242007-10-15T11:50:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:42:18.334+05:30

The sun rose over the horizon and it found Lujiet still lying on her couch completely broken. It was the same case with Lujiet's ex-nanny Charel when she dropped by her house.I know you're wondering why any nanny would choose to see the devils that were once imposed upon her, but it happened that Charel grew very fond of Lujiet during the short time she had spent with her when Lujiet was but a

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-34910757685007996402007-10-15T11:46:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:41:58.164+05:30

Lujiet was desperate.She wanted, nay needed to save Moreo''s life!Her life felt like an empty cookie jar with no chocolates in it, a beautiful finger without any hair on the arm knuckle. Throwing all restraints to the wind, she quickly grabbed some cash and rushed to the airport.Yes, it was that important.I know you are shocked that she didn't grab any underwear, but love (money?) is always above

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-15118402490510901732007-10-15T11:39:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:41:58.165+05:30

To say Lujiet was shocked would be wrong. It was more inclined towards nirvana… the enlightenment, of her stupidity, of course.All right, all right I’ll tell you already.In her periphery of vision and within earshot were Rico and his corny friend (yes, the same one as in Chapter One… don’t remember him? Think “Okra”.) And no, they were not discussing the weather.You guessed it… it was one of the

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-3204259802666418912007-06-30T17:54:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:41:58.166+05:30

T'was the night before Christmas.... SCREECH!!!... Sorry, wrong story. Hmmm.... what was it again? Yeah... the conversation that Lujiet had overheard... T'was a month or so after Christmas and, Lujiet was out taking a walk along with her newly upgraded XYK Flower Sniffer (courtesy: Rico, of course) to sniff the early spring blossoms that were scattered around the town. After making sure that she

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-43515440899818809032007-06-28T12:37:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:41:58.166+05:30

In the year that followed, Moreo and Lujiets' conditions were quite pitiable. Lujiet slipped into one hell of a depression, and from the amount of water that fell off in sheets from her eyes, it seemed as if there was a depression (geographical one... you know, the low pressure region blah and blah) in front of those red-rimmed eyeballs. She was eternally grateful to Rico, who oh-so-thoughtfully

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-91567046363653122912007-06-28T12:29:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:41:58.167+05:30

It is important to note that Lujiet was quite valid in her assumption. It was not-exactly a secret that Moreo was very disappointed with Kweeepie. Moreo had had his eye on the classic Monto Broken-Glass Detection Kit. (Grandmamma was quite an avid broken-glass collector in her prime, and had a most impressive collection, which was cremated along with her.) Much to his dismay, Moreo had to endure

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-21098697059990317892007-06-21T17:28:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:41:58.168+05:30

As is happened, Jetta and Rico did not have too long a wait. The opportunity arose when Lujiet's dear grandmamma passed away. Now, Lujiet's grandmamma had left something very valuable to Lujiet in her will. Finally, after a much-awaited time, it was time for Lujiet to get her inheritance because Lujiet grandmamma died because I just said so a few moments ago. As Lujiet saw her inheritance, tears

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-41751628830208420962007-06-18T09:20:00.000+05:302008-06-27T11:41:58.168+05:30

Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl called Moreo and Lujiet. Moreo and Lujiet were the best of friends for as long as anyone could remember. They were next-door neighbours and that's how they met. They went to Pre School together, played together and pulled pranks together. They survived through the first days of elementary school, held each other through their difficult times,

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-9329955591765920362007-05-20T19:50:00.000+05:302007-12-09T18:30:45.045+05:30

Once upon a time, there lived a farmer and his wife in a not-exactly-large country far, far away.Now, this farmer just loved cauliflowers. In his not-exactly-large farmland, he grew only cauliflowers. His cauliflowers were the biggest, most healthy ones in the whole of the not-exactly-large country.He had special medicines for curing their sickness and had them given shots to protect them from

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9074661088216288488.post-47616773399113290352007-05-20T15:11:00.000+05:302007-05-20T15:16:32.594+05:30

Well it's time I shifted, I guess... I already have a blog, one that I'm pretty proud about at http://insatiablyfunny.blogster.com but for reasons that include coersion from a certain Mr.Sebastian, ( :P I hope you're proud, Tony! ) I've decided to open one here too... I'll maintain both parallely for the time being.Cheers people!Keep blogging!

insatiablyfunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15784843762237253387noreply@blogger.com6