And then there was this whole thing about what love is. Abbah,cliched fool , you will say ,but i see people all around me who seem to think they know what it is.

Arpit says it is when you start to go weak in the knees and i think thats probably because that is where his brain is, or only slightly higher.
Ganjanan says he will marry the girl who sits in the next cubicle because they would be spending most of the time in the office anyway.they will make space for a small new cubicle when time comes , he says.


There isnt much to it i think , except wanting her presence to overwhelm you every moment of your waking life .


I need attention.I have friends who will talk to me at two in the morning.They will curse and vow to heap my clothes and set them on fire, but they will talk.I am selfish that way.I will want attention from people i like,and give attention to people whom i like.I will go to them because they will be fun or intelligent.I will shun the ones who don't meet expectations.I will drop in at odd times.I won't call.I will not keep frienships.I have a couple that i cherish.


I will fall in love with people who don't want to, but i wont care.I will just want to.I will care and bug and be the hutch ka kutta.


I will tell the girls when they are wearing shirts too short.Why do they do that? Is there not the next size? Is it a test? Are they trying to test all men around them and see when exactly it is that they crack under the pressure? or is it simbly because they sweat more than we do? Is it wrong to tell them? Will they get conscious an all? because seriously, i don't want to want to know what brand of inner wear you own. and girls should wear shirts which have captions written on the back no? otherwise they should just shut up and not bother when guys read them no.



Forget whatever you just read.That was not me writing.That was crap.But i had to.

i am hungry
i am desperate to post
i dont want to give up something i started.again.
i dont want to be mediocre.
i know i am getting there.
i am getting bored.often.
i am getting bored of getting bored.
i am falling for girls who are
a.committed
b.not interested.(in anybody)
c.have religious commitments.
d.are in love with himesh reshamiya.

which is why i am pushing myself,
despite revolting innards, smell, and all,
i shall espouse eloquently on the two most controversial topics under the sun.god, and himesh reshamiya.yes, every blogger has to wrirte about him nowadays, or like
haribabu says, it isn't complete.

write in brief:
god, i believe in.religion, i don't.i am sure those who are devoutly religious believe in the notion of god and lesser so in the road they take.
the sect of people-who-jump-off-twenty-four-storey-buildings is the new rage.they get there faster.i belive in god primarily because i find it hard to belive in darwin.for people who do, galapagos is probably heaven,and the hms beagle is the thing which goes across hades which is manned by the scary guy with the wierd name and gaurded \by the three headed dog whom hercules fed pediogree biscuits.
no wait.that was hell.
ok ok.he made the connections.soldered, joined wires, made mouths, penises, breasts and noses.we all generally agree that he knew his job.except perhas, a half of a billion tend to think, in the case of himesh naakwallah.he sings.ok.he is allowed to sing.how? he sells.appaling! and his aap ka surroor the real mooveee is a hit.faints and dies with a fart.
(read the godfather, all about death and its smells, sphincter they call it, i found out.)

Revenues
- operating expenses
- depreciation and amortization
= operating income - Interest expenses
= Taxable income - Taxes
= Net Income .

yes.
really!

I am to wear formals and work.
I may be good that way.

Eat at all the places that can give you diarrhoea.(this thing spells it as diarrhea.whats diarrhea?oh my freaking goodness!!! they changed the spelling!! After all these years!! there goes another thing i can't be proud of anymore, though i always wondered why they didn't do it earlier.no wait.there IS a diarrhoea too.)

ok

Are the panels supposed to be this way? Myself and professor Nath were completely out of place.I didn't know we had to shout at the students, I thought it was to be a peaceful affair, i thought everyone went out happy.How can one shout like that? are they all constipated on the same day? our mothers did bnot bring us up this way...

prof sarkar.


He was so happy he farted.

you cant love or be loved!?
you say as if it is terrible, believe me it isn't.
you have been in love before!,it didn't last, it never does.
love, desire, ambition, faith- without them, life's so simple, believe me.

(from 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers')

Love to the brink of sorrow.Ambition lost in an all enveloping sense of rejection.
Faith being limited to the idea of me.I whisper to myself.

Will life be much more peaceful?
will it be a talisman of eternal bliss? ephemeral?
A rhapsody .of serendipity, of redolent chocolate,of travels ,a pastiche that a woman is.

Can there be halcyon love, foggy ambition, an a life ruled by guilt?

will there be no more wanting of ps3? of food? sex?

Of birthdays bathrooms and other B..

One cannot but be excited by ones day of birth.The days beyond hold immense promise.regardless of the situation.I am ,as many others are, excited by this
truly magical moment.Though , however, i cannot help wondering as to why.it is just another day ,right? labour day is a holiday.yes? aids day? what about it?
women's day?? and I wont even go into valentine's day and the lot.
I am to be hailed as the protector of the universe, starting with manhattan of course, on this day.lauded and fauned upon as a darling of the masses.
I was, afterall, born;
and I don't even remember it. Most of my conscious memory was spent eating and pooping.and to quote a famous philosopher ..'I poop therefore I am'.

Truly.The bathroom(toilet, lavatory, loo, john, bog) is the only place I can fathom where one is assured of privacy.A place where you are left to your self. Introspection of the deepest sorts , I say, takes place here.Men** change on trips to bathrooms.A trip to the bathroom, normally a quiet moment in anyone’s life, becomes an absurd entry wedge into metaphysical disharmony sometimes, as pulp-fiction very successfully demonstrates.John(oh that's why!) travolta is in a situation every time he makes a trip to the loo.


I forget what I started out to write.



**I am not sure about women.