vanity cards

Chuck Lorre is on the list of people I want to meet.

I have long believed that part of our problem with resolving race issues in America is our inability to accurately name what we are. Aside from the occasional Johnny and Edgar Winter, there are no white people. Any child with a box of crayons can tell you that white people are, in fact, beige. The sickly ones are gray. Following this crayon logic, one can easily see that there are really no black people. They are brown. Or perhaps raw umber. Or maybe burnt sienna. Frankly, every time I hear someone comment on America's first black president, I can't help thinking, "No, he's not. He's more like caramel." Which is why I think we should all get in the habit of calling each other what we really are. How can you racially slur a man by calling him "beigey" or "umber?" The answer is you can't. Because that's exactly what he is. The melanin doesn't lie. Buy a box of Crayolas and see for yourself. We are all members of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Can I hear a kumbaya?

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A single tear is much , much sadder than a stream down the cheek. It speaks of the deepest grief in a person, that which has been held inside for long, that which he/she hasn't come to terms with. It is one of the prettiest things in the world that can be sad.

Sigh.

Happiness only real when shared

Death's a fierce meadowlark: but to die having made

Something more equal to centuries

Than muscle and bone, is mostly to shed weakness.

The mountains are dead stone, the people

Admire or hate their stature, their insolent quietness,

The mountains are not softened or troubled

And a few dead men's thoughts have the same temper.

I don't think I can do justice if I describe how he felt. The bittersweet realization gets to me every time I'm reminded of him.

Insert Cuss word here

A month ago

Writing my SOP shouldn't be that darn difficult.

A week later

Writing my SOP shouldn't be that difficult.

Another week later

g..o..o...g..l..e.. ctrl+enter ..s..o..p..Search.

Three days later

Wait?! That's all I've done for the past three years?! :O

Day before yesterday

Erm, suggestions anyone?

Yesterday

Bite me.

Now,

Hopefully this is the last SOP I have to write, ever.

Crowded.

Monospaced

i wish to do enough with my life, that even when my memory starts fading with age, i'll remember that i have done everything that i wanted to, and that is all that would matter. a decent job that pays well isn't what matter. it is but a step-up to do all the other stuff one intends to. money isn't the end, it is the means. the belief is, you live a good life now and you go to heaven, but when(if) i go to heaven i won't be me, so why bother? no matter where you are, if you didn't enjoy the ride, it isn't worth being there.

to be inspired, is a wonderful feeling.

United we stand!

It's been raining here for a long time now and consequently the passages under the flyovers are flooded, and all the two wheelers are supposed to go through there, even if it rains. So I go that way this morning, and reach the intersection.

We are the ones in red. Some of us want to turn left and some others want to turn right. There's no friggin' police dude to regulate traffic, and there's a puddle of water exactly where we turn. So we can't stop while turning, it's all gotta be in one whooosh!. (Unless you want to put your foot down in a nasty puddle) The only obstacle to this is the blue faction who want to go straight and not wait for us to pass. It's all messy up front, when a poilceman shows up, with awesome timing and all. Now he tells US to stop and asks the blue guys to go through first. We like it that order has resume and wait for him to let us pass but it's been more than a minute now, and the blues are still going through.

Just then, one guy hit his horn. Then all around me horns started blaring. A symphony of horn sounds targeted at the police man. It was so awesome that I laughed out and hit my horn too. It was beautiful.

He let us through. :)

P.s : I still MSPaint like a retard

'Tis a beautiful day.

So I finish the last exam with half an hour to spare, hand in my paper, and walk out slowly with a smile on my face, background music playing in my head and all, and it starts raining outside, like in Shawshank Redemption.

Redemption. Wonderful feeling, that.

The last of the lot.

I have exactly 13 hours before I sit for the last exam of my Undergrad study. I mean, last ever.

You know how, sometimes, you look forward to stuff, and then when it happens, you don't know what to feel?

Now is NOT one of those times. I'm glad that the formality that they call exams is over. For atleast a year.

:)

If watching sachin play yesterday meant I'll be scoring low in DCA tomorrow, I'd do it a thousand times over.

After such an innings, it sucks to see him on the losing side.

For dummies

The other day, I bought a book titled "Reading, for dummies".

And hit myself on the head with it.