the daily chronicler of nonsense

• a saturday... i never remember dates.

1. ideal music to be played in:
   

shopping malls, the shopper's stop types: backstreet boys
restaurants: saxophone
in your hostel room, with the headphones on: lucky ali

2. Jesus did not die for our sins. At least he didn't die for mine. He just challenged the institution and got F'd. Reality. Similarly, Ram was just a king. Just a king. We just try insisting he was God, to keep our faiths strong. Krishn was a good flirt, a damn good one at that.

3. Typing on MS word is easier than typing on this stupid forum. The autocorrect shit is essentially absent.

4. I miss those days when cassettes would come for 28 bucks, movie tickets for 48. Though ya, the quality has improved. But then, so has the price; and in a much greater proportion. Income sadly hasn't.

5. Actually, it'd be more appropriate to say that I miss those days of 90s middle-class demands and life-style. The mobile phone is a boon though.

6. I just remembered someone saying that this style of writing of mine is called 'Stream of Consciousness'. OK.

7. I'd try updating this post daily; I manage to think up enough nonsense to keep up to my promise; remembering it is difficult though.

8. I wanted to limit the number of posts to 6. It's a lucky number. Didn't happen. 8 is not a lucky number. I've thought of one more. But now, I am forgetting it.

9. Yes, I don't talk to myself or the wall perhaps, 'cos I blog the nonsense.

• a Tuesday/ Wednesday midnight...

1. Satya Sai Baba remarked, "Love seeks no reward, Love is it's own reward".. He is under a mistaken conception...Love, as Robert Frost had opined, is 'an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired"...

• friday, may.

1. if u can't define humility, search for definitions of hypocrisy; they're synonyms.

• thursday, or wednesday perhaps...such bother this!

1. they bitch about the cigarette... it's bad for health and all such health-conscious rubbish... but ever thought that as against that, there are so many pros? You are alone. Grab a cigarette. With friends. Cigarette. Busy, tensed. Cigarette. Happy, no one to share. There's our small friend. Sad, she's fuckin left you. Blow it out. Tired, did too much work. Relax on a smoke. Bored, did nothing. Have one. Projects? SUTTA. You fuckin need it even to reassure your self that you've had a good sex session. Phew! I should've probably thought of a career in salesmanship. :P

• 14.05

1. it's perhaps too late, but i still miss the innocence of yestertimes...memories i relive, thanks to the bliss called Music
2. no i don't want to look at your pictures; i wish to preserve the ones in my mind

• dhorajaak aaj robbar, kono kaaj nei. - Suman
  

"let's assume it's a sunday; there's no work."

1. writers (most) have an inability to differentiate between their 'good' and 'bad' works, unlike readers who do it oh so well. The writer just assumes that the reader couldn't understand the piece he tagged bad; well, his problem; my job ends with writing.
2. So these writers love all their works. Go fuck yourself, stupid reader/reviewer. Perhaps like the good father, who still loves the son people consider a waste.
   
3. Both seem justified to me.

• it's a monday, and thus the last week of my vacations has begun.

1. i haven't been a quitter regarding anything in life. Perhaps I should have been one regarding many a thing in life.

• the saturday before project submissions

1. i hate this suo motu restoration of memories from the recycle bin onto the mind.
2. wonder what's happened to the word 'poison'. I mean i used to listen to this word as a killer when i was a child. Nowadays i hear of so many novel forms of deaths that people invent, and take pains scheming. Poison, where's your importance? It's so difficult to be simple. To think of a simple life, and a simple death.

• the following Sunday; a working Sunday; and I think
  

1. where the mind is without tensions, where there are no project submissions, where smoking on campus is allowed, where the teacher doesn't mind you walking out, into THAT freedom of heaven my Father, let my college awake