A letter to an Arrogant Bastard.

Dear Mr. Random Arrogant Stranger,

You know very well that you have just met me and that you are just a random person that I happen to have the ungracious apathy to meet on this particular, random day. I showed you the basic formal respect like any normal, educated human being would show and in return, what do I get? A humiliating and a disrespectful sneer form your mouth. Who gave you the rights to just come to me and open up a conversation with the plagiarizing words that not only makes me feel humiliated but also hurts me in a way that you can’t understand because of your arrogance. You came to me and made a low-down statement by calling me and my friends’ fat and further attempted to bring down our spirits by stating that we don’t “work-out” enough. Who the hell do you think you are to call me fat to my face? And don’t you know that it’s none of your business at all, to ask what I do with my life? You just met me 5 minutes back and you think yourself as someone to whom I’ll listen and talk about my weight issues. Are you my dietician or are you my guardian? Just because you are old enough to be respected by the society, that doesn’t give you any right to come up to young women like me and my friends and call us fat. Did you really think that while you made that fat statement, we all would cry our eyes out ask you advice on losing weight? Did you seriously think that while displaying your utter stupidity? I can see why you thought you could rule any women by your arrogance. While I was giving you a piece of my mind on how to behave in public, I noticed your daughter and your wife, standing behind you, silently and helplessly watching you lose your face in public as I made sure people around us heard what a grave mistake you had done today by coming up to us for no reason and calling us fat. I guess you are so used to rule your conservative women at your home. But not even for a minute did you think that outside your house, women are different, strong and bold and that you are in no way capable to rule them with your arrogance.

I asked you one question for which you were incapable to answer and in turn that shut your arrogant mouth up. I asked, “Have you looked yourself in the mirror lately? Do you really think you are so perfect that you can strut around with your balding head and a pot-belly that you possess and can come up to me with your imperfections and point out to me, my flaws?” Are you so blinded by your arrogance that makes you think yourself as a superior man and makes me and my friends less superior and hence we should be called by the word “FAT”? Even as I asked you these questions, there you were, still arguing with me that “as a human being, you had to make that statement to make me realise how much I weigh”. FYI MR. Arrogant-bald-headed-man, I know very well about my body nature and I don’t need some random third person to come to me and point out my flaws. This is modern society mister, so stop being so blindly stupid. Long gone are the days where you could have your way with women. If you don’t show me respect, you sure as hell won’t get any respect from me. Just because you are old enough to be my dad (which you incidentally stated while I was ripping your arrogance apart with my words), that doesn’t make you genetically my dad, does it? And don’t you even for a minute compare your lousy self to my dad, because if my dad were to be here while you made that statement, he would have literally punched you in the face. This is a fact and I’m one hundred percent true in my words, so stop arguing with me further, uncle ji. I was blatantly euphoric to have further shut your arrogant mouth when I asked you, “If some random guy came up to your daughter and called her a slut, would you have kept quiet?” You may not have called me any bad names, but making a statement about my body is just as bad. In fact, it’s worse. 

You saw only my physical exterior and thought yourself as a god who would grace upon my soul and make me realize how unhealthy I am and in turn you dreamed yourself to be my saviour by imagining that I would fall to your feet and tell you in a teary voice, “Uncle-ji you have opened my eyes, I never realised that I was fat, until now. Thank you for calling me fat, I will lost my weight and I will always remember you for opening my eyes”, I guess that’s the attitude you posses. By now you must know, that I don’t give a rat’s fart for people like you. I know very well what I am and I don’t need a lecture from you, you random moron. I know what I’m going through and I very well know what I’m doing with my life to stay healthy. And incidentally, this is not at all the point for this post. This post is about you and your arrogance and how not to cross your limits with women or any other person for that matter. Learn to show some basic respect Mister “know-it-all”. Only then will people respect you back. And when you finally realised that you lost your argument and shamelessly excused yourself, without even an apology, your daughter came up to me and apologized to me on your behalf. You should be glad to have a daughter like that who cleans up your mess after you. I pity your wife and daughter, who are currently living, helplessly under your arrogant shadow.

I was happy to have humiliated you because you deserved every word I said today, but none of those words were rude but strong enough to pierce your icy arrogance. You should be glad that you don’t understand Kannada, because as you walked away, my friends called you names that would have made your mother wish that she had never given birth to you.

The next time you decide to speak your mind without thinking in front of a person, I’m sure you will remember me and my words.

                                                                                                                 Yours most truly,

                                                                                                                A strong, independent woman.

Money Matters

link

Now that my final semester exams are over, the post-exam holidays are not exactly what I had in my mind during the exams. The vacations after any exam is a welcoming gift to any student but the same doesn’t hold good for a final year Bachelor of Engineering student and especially if that student doesn’t have any inkling what to do with her life once the course ends.

Questions... a lot of unanswered and doubtful ones and Decisions... I remember when I was in 8^th grade, I was given the first decision of my future career with respect to which language I would choose as 1^st language: Sanskrit or Kannada? And I know the amount of struggle I have faced within myself to choose the one that is suitable for me. If I choose Sanskrit then that would mean I have to pay more attention to the subject but if I choose Kannada, I would have to struggle with the old dialects that I still find difficult to read and understand. Either way I faced a lot of dead ends. I chose Sanskrit over Kannada by the way and for a few reasons it was a good decision in the end and for a few more reasons it was a bad decision after all. This is mainly related to me, taking double the time I take while reading a Kannada news paper or books as opposed to the English ones. As Kannada is my mother tongue, this is a downright shameful situation for me to be in.

Thus said, I and decisions don’t go hand in hand. And now I have a lot of paths ahead of me and choosing the one that is feasible to my mind set and the one that offers minimal doubts about the future is not at all an easy game-play.

I had long dreams about enjoying my holidays in bliss for a couple of months once my exams got over. But the very day I came home after finishing my last exam, I felt least relieved. There was no “thank god it’s finally over” kind of euphoria that usually greets me after every semester’s exam. Instead, there was a dead-weight in my chest. The reason: a student can enjoy his/her vacation if and only if he/she knows when the college is going to reopen next. Once they know the deadline, they can plan the holiday fun accordingly. But I’m currently stuck in a “stay at home” vacation which is anything but a vacation. I don’t have a two month dead line to enjoy my vacation like I used to do in the previous years of my entire education life. My future right now is so dark and clouded. In fact, I have no idea what will happen from a week from now. I have no idea what kind of decisions I have to face and take up in the nearest future. 

Relatives, neighbours, the grocery store aunty and many more people who know me have asked me the same questions; “You have finished your exams right. Finally you are enjoying your holidays na?”

Enjoyment? I have lost the meaning to that word right now. Everything I do right now, I do because I have to do since I have nothing else to do. I feel deeply unemployed and under-educated right now. Because currently I’m in a phase called “wait for thy results and meanwhile thou hast to look for a job or thou hast to apply for higher studies”. As I wait for the dreaded result which is about to be announced, I have to juggle between looking out for jobs and at the same time preparing for PGCET exams for higher studies.

Uncertainties at both the ends and all because everything depends on my results. If I end up getting a backlog (god forbid), I’ll be stuck in a dead-lock for the next six months (unless I manage to pass in reval or the money-mongering challenge revaluation). Else if I do become an Engineer, I have to decide what to do next. I’m terrible at making the right decision so it’s really unsettling.

Bottom-line: I refuse to sit at home and do nothing. I did not struggle these last few years to just give up and sit at home and end up marrying someone and ask him for pocket money in the future. I’m becoming very aware of the money games that are happening in my life right now. Mom and Dad used to dish out money without a second word or question to me before exams ended. But now, every penny equals to a thousand questions. This has started to drive me nuts. I’m used to spending money without thinking and now I have to restrain myself. I know my folks have their best interest in me and they have never said no when it came to money matters but I guess there comes a point when even they feel like ATM machines. And it has never been my intention to make them feel that way but sometimes opinions clash and words will be spoken rather harshly.

Its times like these I strongly feel like taking up any job and just be happy to spend my own money. But that would mean I have to settle for uninteresting jobs and lead a rather miserable life. And if I decide to do MBA for the next 2 years, I have a promise of landing myself in a better career position (even this is an uncertainty but I’m just going to assume the good stuff here to avoid dwelling on uncertainties). But that would mean I have to depend on my folks for two years worth of pocket money.

Decisions... decisions... Which should I make I know not. All I have figured out right now is to gain something, I have to lose something else. 

My blog’s Anniversary

One of my good friend, Shree Harsha is celebrating his blog’s 1 year anniversary and during the months of June and July he is asking some of his friends to do a guest post on his blog and I got a chance to do my part too at his blog. Hearty congratulations for him and his blog. And while I was talking with him about what I should write, I remembered that even my blog needs to celebrate its anniversary which was on 10^th June actually. So I’m an eleven days late in recognising one of the proudest moments of me being a writer. Nonetheless, it’s never too late right?

So he asked me to write about me being a blogger and what got me into writing and how is my journey in the blogging world so far. I’ve never written about myself and especially on my creative writing side and so this is a first and quite a toughie for me as anything related to me, results in a lot of writer’s block in my mind. Since I hate being in the writer’s block loop, I’m going to try and make this post readable and interesting (oh, please don’t fall asleep!).

So here are some of the questions asked by my friend and some other questions that I ask myself to give an outlook for this historic journey of the author behind Neha’s Journal. (Since this is all about me, I shall shamelessly brag here and there!).

When did I start writing?

It all began with a pencil and a paper and also a chalk piece and a black board when I was about 5. I had just learnt my alphabets and the teacher at the kindergarten had done an excellent job in making me write my very first set of cursive alphabets. And that was when I realised, 17 years later I would become a famous blogger. Okay, that might have gone a wee-bit over the top!

Coming to the genuine part: Writing has been one of the most familiar things for me. Well, everyone writes. Even kids who hate writing has to write when given assignments. Even I was one of them. I hated writing. My hand would pain and I never really learned to improve my hand-writing. So that was me when I was 7 or 8.

But one day my whole perception towards writing changed. All because of a movie called “Harriet the spy”. I was 11 when I saw this movie and somehow spying on friends and writing about them in a book fascinated me more than anything else (talk about television having its influence on young minds!). Even playing with stuffed animals and barbies started to become boring for me from then onwards.

And so I started with this whole diary business. At first it was just a book filled with drawings and stuff and not much related to any actual writing. But when I stepped into 7^th grade, that was the starting point of the whole teen-age drama for me, I started to notice things other than pencil boxes, erasers, insects and butterflies. I started to notice “people”. My classmates and their individual behaviour, their laughter, their temper and their voices seemed very interesting for someone who loved to observe and write about them.

Somehow without my knowledge, genuine observing became notorious spying and I became the mecca of class gossips. I with my gang of friends used to spy on some of the class boys who went to weird places to play cricket. The boys came to know about this and we got into trouble. And I used to write about everything that transpired at school. Now when I turn back those pages, and read my past writings (with sever grammatical errors and heart-rending spelling mistakes!) I feel good to go back to those days through my words. They are fun to read. So who said writing isn’t fun?

Can I give a little insight to what actually I write in my non-digital journal?

Okay, my journal book is too mundane. It’s filled with typical stuff about fears and gloominess. Somehow I write there when I’m lost. But there are times when I write when I’m extremely happy too but they are rare. Ever since I started blogging, I’ve declined writing in my journal. It’s a sad thing for me. But I do write whenever I get an idea to a story. All the story plotting stuffs are extensively done in that book as of now.

So here is a little sneak-peek into my non-digital journal. It’s something I wrote a few months back on the occasion of buying a new journal to continue my writing extravaganzas;

In the silence of the night, I sat staring blankly at my new un-penned book. Is today another day for the reign of the “writer’s block” to take over? Or should I just write about writer’s block for the sake of writing something in my new purple notebook that I purchased from the local mall for a very high price plus taxes? Sigh, maybe a random poem might help;

The things I do,

I do for reasons unknown.

Unknown is the reason,

A reason nonetheless.

Nonetheless I try,

Try I do, to bring out the best.

Best is a wild, wicked dream;

And I dream for a reason,

A reason nonetheless.

                                            ~Neha 

When did my blogging journey begin?

I seriously started blogging in 2011. But before that in 2009, I first created a blog page for fun. Back then I was in 2^nd year of engineering and even though I was a computer science student, the simple blog layout used to confuse me a lot and blogging seemed like a complicated business. All those tools, labels and pages... sounded like some geeky place to scroll over.

As the semesters went by, I started to show more interest as started to understand what a web page was. Of course, even a small kid can blog these days, but I was under the wrong assumption that only people who knew about the technical stuff can blog! But extra knowledge doesn’t hurt too. I see blogging differently these days. It’s not just a place to post my writing but it’s also a place where I study different HTML and CSS codes with interest.

What does writing mean to me?        

                   

From a year and a half I’ve been seriously bitten by the writer’s bug. Now that my creative writing side was starting to wake up, I started to write a lot of poems. And poems helped me to think in an abstract manner. Poems actually have the ability to broaden the way of thinking. They are creative, fun and imaginative and it’s every creative writer’s dream to escape from reality now and then.

For the first time I actually completed a four page story called “The Premonition”. I was really happy with my effort as it was one of those attempts in writing that I had truly completed so far. I wanted audience to read my writing and provide me with valuable feedback. At first I was apprehensive that people would laugh at my work. But most of my friends and even my mom (she is a tough critic) said I really did have something going here. So finally, took the leap and started to share all my work at Neha’s Journal.

Why the name Neha’s Journal?

Well that’s how I started to write. Initially it was a typical girl’s personal diary but as I grew up, so did my knowledge and my experiences in life. I underwent a lot of failures and even saw a little bit of success here and there. I fell in love and broke up too. Its experiences and milestones such as these that strongly triggered the writer in me.

The bottom line for me when it comes to writing: IT GIVES ME PEACE.

It leads me to join all the pieces together – life, love, misery, death... you name it. I find that I’m in close contact with my life and surroundings through my writing. Many people live their entire life on the go and when they die, their stories go untold. I feel that it’s a waste of a person’s soul. One should at least leave behind something from which the others can actually know who they were.

Photographs are only still memories at a particular point in life. But writing... it’s like a movie of your life, a movie which the readers can view in their minds when they read a person’s writing. It’s a movie each person can witness in his or her own terms of imagination.

By now I can tell without a hitch that I have practically grown up writing and hence writing for me is LIFE.

Blogging and Bloggers:

For some of my earliest posts, I had some very few visitors who were patient and kind enough to leave behind a comment or two. Their appreciation and constructive criticism encouraged me to better my blog as well as hone my writing skills. In the last one year, I have had around 16,000 visitors and counting. Around 97 bloggers are kind enough to support me through following my blog.

I’m no famous or top rated blogger. I’m still an amateur and I have a lot to learn. I write to attain peace. Writing is always stress-free. And reading other blogger’s post is also a nice way to forget about my own worries. Writing and reading go hand in hand. If you want to be a good writer and want to people to recognise your work then you have to get out there and appreciate other bloggers. One shouldn’t do it for a selfish reason. You must develop genuine interest in reading other writer’s work. And reading is definitely not a waste of time. Think about all the ideas you can get through reading different posts by different authors. Each person has his/her own style of writing and you can always gain and learn different ideas from them.

And just a few months back, I registered myself at Indiblogger and started to post my work at the Indivine. It’s a top Indian blogging site with over a 100,000 bloggers from all nationalities and inter-states of India who get together at the site and share their posts. If people like your post then they vote for you at the indivine. You can follow fellow bloggers and broaden your network. It’s one of those sites from where genuine readers visit your blog and give back valuable feed-backs.

And I’m very happy to say that so many people have visited my blog and it’s a privilege to visit their blogs and interact with them and in turn grow my network over the months.

There are so many bloggers/authors out there who have a huge potential to become the future Paulo Cohelo or Rabindranath Tagore or Enid Blyton. I’m glad I could be a part of the blogging world and even gladder that I get to share a part of my world with them.

***

The Revenge

I was under the false radar that I was living in a paradise. A paradise of love and passion knitted together. A paradise where two hearts were pinned together by cupid’s arrow. A paradise where anything he said to me sounded like a beautiful verse taken right from a Shakespearean sonnet.

But one evening, my paradise vanished as quickly as water vanishes from cupped hands. Our six month relationship ended by just an SMS that he sent to my phone: I’m sorry Shai; it’s not working for me. I just need to be on my own right now. I hope you understand and wish you all the best for the future.

I got dumped through a SMS! My pride was hurt to an irreparable extent. Tears rightfully rolled down my cheeks as memories of him and I, together at happier times engulfed my mind like a poisonous snake. No sooner these memories started to overwhelm me, than I felt a stronger emotion than sadness. Anger. It was an intense emotion that surged through my heart and reached every part of my body. I was torn between crying my eyes out and at the same time, controlling the same tears. I felt confused, lost, defeated and betrayed.

I thought back to what I knew about Rahul. I wasn’t even sure if that was his real name now. I was so engrossed with him, his words and his charms that I had blindly trusted him. All I knew was that he lived in some flat which was on the opposite side of the city from where I lived. With a flash, a piece of memory whipped my conscience as I remembered the night I had agreed to spend with him. He had proposed that night and offered to marry me and that was enough for me as I dived into his arms like a fool. How could I’ve been so stupid?

The riot of deeply burnt emotions that were battling inside me was inexplicable. He was a cheat and his entire existence was just promoting falsification. People like him didn’t deserve to dwell happily on this planet. I had to do something to stop him cause the same catastrophe to other women.

I controlled myself from calling him or even replying him back with an SMS. I so badly wanted to curse him and shout at him. But that would just make me more vulnerable and it would show him that he had got to me and burned me. I wasn’t the type of girl who would get dumped and accept defeat on the same day.

I wiped my tears and read his message one last time before deleting it for good.

“Last night I had a revelation, somehow I have to make you pay

It’s all about manipulation, and what it takes to get my way

I don’t believe in soft solutions, no one makes a fool of me

Without receiving retribution, no one hurts me and goes free…”

                                                                                      ~ Red Delicious

***

3 weeks later...

Rahul lazily walked into the usual pub that he frequented time and again to find new game. He saw women like opportunity and once he caught hold of one opportunity and used it to the fullest extent; he always looked out for new opportunities. But today, he was in no mood to moon some random woman. He had had enough of swirling around random women until they consented to sleep with him and later ditching them the fastest way possible. Some would call people like Rahul as man-whore but he called himself an opportunist and according to him, there was nothing wrong in making use of his man-hood to the fullest extent.

It’s these women who have to wake-up to the modern day. Who wants to live in a confiscated relationship with a nagging wife when one gets more than that in an open relationship, he thought as he sipped his beer. But women need to learn to get over themselves once they get stood up. Every time I dump them, they’ll be behind my back like leeches either begging me to come back or cursing me death. Till now, the only woman who didn’t call me back to retaliate was Shai.  Man, that was a good night and she had me going to think that she was a decent girl. She put up so much protest that I had to pretend to ask her hand to marry me just to get her to bed. I wonder why she had to put up all that fuss if she took the one-night stand so coolly, without even a word back at me. Well, she should be the role model to these other women who are on my case. They should learn a thing or two about being cool when they get ditched, he thought savagely.

He was drunk to the brim and was about to pay the bill when the bartender pushed another drink under his nose. “Complimentary drink from that lady over there, sir”, he told Rahul by pointing to his left. Rahul turned and saw a beautiful red-head in a very revealing tube-top and saw her smile at him lustily.

“The night just got better. A new game awaits”, he slurred to himself as he doggedly approached the red-headed woman.

“It’s usually men who offer free drinks to stunning women, you know”, he winked at her as he took his seat.

“You look like you could use another drink”, said the lady.

“Yeah, that I do”, he laughed as he mindlessly drank the whiskey in one shot.

“You have a name, beautiful?” he asked her.

“Yes, but you can call me red-head”, she said playfully.

“What’s a pretty red-head like you doing alone in this pub?” he inquired.

“Your questions will soon be answered if we could go somewhere...more private”, her sensuous tone was enough to get Rahul up on his feet the next instant.

An hour later, Rahul led the pretty red-head to his hotel room that he used on special occasions like this.

“You know, I would love to take you to my place, but it’s under renovation right now. So staying here for a while”, he told her as she entered the room with him.

“All the more better”, she said tersely.

Once inside the room, Rahul dropped his pretty playboy act as he approached her wildly. He held her close to him, tightening his grip on her shoulders as his eyes took in her pretty face. Her red-luscious hair complimented her red-lips. But her big dark brown eyes somehow seemed very familiar to him. But his vision was clouding fast and he could hardly see her or the room behind her.

The last thing he remembered was seeing the red-head escape from his grip and moving aside as he fell, face-down on the bed.

                                                                                  ***

3 hours later...

I saw him stir as he slowly opened his eyes. I made sure once again that his hands and feet were tied at either side of the bed tightly. “wha...what happened?” he asked groggily.

“Well, let’s see... I tipped the bartender to slip a small dose of sleeping pill in your drink and it took its effect on you. Oh by the way, while I was at it, I decided to tie you up nicely to the bed too”, I said in a bored tone as I looked at his state with satisfaction.

Rahul tried to move but he couldn’t. He raised his head and saw that he was lying on the bed with no clothes on, save for his underwear. “What did you do with my clothes, you bitch?” he screamed at me.

“Your clothes look too decent to be worn by you. So I’ll make sure to give it to a homeless on my way out of here”, I said in disgust.

“Wait a minute... who are you?” he said, as his eyes widened with fear and rage.

“It’s not at all important. What concerns me is how you are going to play your “get the girl” game once your reputation is ruined. I was thinking of taking a few pictures of you in this state and mailing it to the press. But then I got an even better idea. While you were snoring like a gorilla, I took a few snaps of you from your shiny new smart phone and I saw that you love sharing your thoughts and pictures on Facebook for your friends to see. So guess what? I shared a few pictures of you in your underwear on your wall. It’s been over 2 hours since I shared this and they are being circulated at tremendous speed. A hundred thousand shares already. You really should consider locking your personal pictures from being viewed by the public Rahul”, I told him mockingly as I showed him his photo.

When he saw the photo, he realised that he was not only tied naked to the bed, but was also bearing a few shameful words, written across his chest and stomach in black marker that said: I AM A CHEATING DOG.

“Oh come on, whoever you are, I’m sorry. Now can you be an adult and untie me. This is really not necessary you know...”

I looked at him with even more disgust. “You are not in a state to bargain. If you had been a responsible adult all your life, you wouldn’t be here in this state today. I have half a mind to lock the room and leave you like this until the hotel staff found you. But I won’t do that. I guess you have not confined about this secret hotel “business” of yours to anyone or else someone would have been here to pick you up by now. Your cell has been getting a lot of calls. Even your mother has called a few times. Tch..tch..tch.. Poor you, but don’t worry, I’ve just forwarded the hotel address and room number to her and to some of your other contacts too!!”

Saying so, I placed his smart phone on his dumb torso and I picked up my stuff and his clothes in a bag and walked towards the door.

“Aren’t you going to tell me who you are?” a low, threatening voice came from the bed.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and said “Have fun solving that puzzle for the rest of your life. You probably must have cheated about a 100 women. Why don’t you call them all one by one and find out?”

With my heart pounding loudly, I walked out on him. On my way out from the hotel, I gave the bag containing his clothes to a homeless person and dumped the red-wig in a trash can.

Two days later...

I and my best friend Mia sat sipping chai on the veranda. Mia had her laptop perched on her lap. “You know Shai, you never told me what happened between you and that guy you said you went out on a date with a few months back...”

“I dumped him Mia.”

“Oh? Good for you I guess?” Mia enquired tentatively.

I laughed loudly before saying, “Yeah, best decision ever!”

Mia suddenly turned her laptop towards me, “Hey look at the photo of this guy. It’s apparently become one of the top viral things going around about the internet. Do you think that guy deserved being called a cheating dog from his ex-girlfriend in this fashion?”

I observed the picture with mild interest before saying, “I don’t know about that, but Revenge is Sweet, isn’t it?”

***

Disclaimer: “The Revenge” is a work of pure fiction. Any resemblance to the story, place or characters is purely coincidental.

This post is part of the contest Ten words to a Story(or Poem).. on WriteUpCafe.com

Shooting Star

eyes gazed the night sky

in search of a shooting star

will my dreams come true?

impish stars twinkled

told me stories of lost dreams,

spread through the night sky

fear shook my belief

uncertainties engulfed-

dreams, locked forever

but all is not lost...

caught a shooting star at last

new hope, brought a smile

Shared with : Haiku Heights & Tackle it Tuesday

Exam Diaries 2

It’s raining marks... hallelujah, it’s raining marks!!!

I never thought I would see this day. I never even considered there would be such a possibility as this.
Menu for the day: -

Subject: Web 2.0 and RIA

Level of toughness: Pretty tough but not “scary and hopeless” kind-of tough like the last egg-jaam paper!

Define Web 2.0: It basically simplifies user interaction by providing rich user interface. I’m just stating the bottom line here. Let me not dwell on the finer details of the definition as it’s swiftly depleting from my memory. But web 2.0 as the definition says, simplified my life by lessening most of my worries.

The Reason:  As you can see in the picture, there seems to be some discount marks for today’s egg-jaam paper.

YES!!! A Whole 7 Marks Discount. Finally, at least in my final semester, I got graced by a question paper that displayed an incomplete question , leading to the provision of grace marks for all the computer science students like me. (Only an engineer student can know the value of free grace marks!)

Whoever set the question paper, my gratitude goes to them for befalling to this blind-spot.

Cheers!!

P.S: Me, my friends and the rest of the students walked out of the exam hall with an air of satisfaction and glee.

P.P.S: Has something similar to this ever happened to you? Your are welcome to share your thoughts. :)

Scream – Flash 55

The Scream. By Edvard Munch

I woke-up from a nightmare... I was trapped in a room full of snakes. Throat burning, took a stroll down the dark corridor to get a drink. Suddenly, I felt something climb-up my leg. My blood-curdling scream woke the neighbors up.

It was a frog. Embarrassed... hope for poisonous snakes the next time I scream.

***

P.S: Time- 3.00 am. Wrapped up my studies and went down-stairs with half open eyes. The dark living room at this ungodly hour was serving party for a couple of nasty frogs hopping about our house. Stepping on their squishy bodies and having them jump up on my feet in retaliation was not the kind of thing to be expected at this time of the night. I cursed loudly, but they were just frogs. And for all I know, they might be cursing me too for the intrusion. Nonetheless, decided to scream my head off in this F-55!!

JOY

The joy of freedom

Only a caged soul can tell

Joy is eternal

Joy bestows beauty

Brings forth sunshine and warmth

Joy is happiness

Written for: Haiku Heights

P.S: Writing a Haiku after a long time. That defines joy for me!