Why I hate Ayn Rand

There's just this intangible something about Ayn Rand's books that just bring out and emphasize on my insecurities. For that i hate, passionately, with all my heart, Ayn Rand and her books but at the same time i can't help but be strangely fascinated and...whats the word..i dunno..held by them (imagine a snake being made to rise up and perform some silly dance, unwillingly, to the strange, disconcerting tunes of the snake charmer)

• Firstly, what's with the whole 'never do anything that doesn't serve some serious purpose' philosophy? So people like looking at and living in Tudor or Georgian or whatever outdated styles of architecture - it appeals to their aesthetic sense! So what if the buttresses on the pillar are unnecessary? Some people happen to think it looks good! Isn't that purpose enough?
• I resent and hate Howard Roark! Men like him do not and cannot exist! It just completely goes against nature as we know it! I saw on some internet survey that there are quite a few people who would actually like to date Roark! To them i say - do you like feeling like you do not exist or that you are not worth any emotion - not even contempt? You've got low self esteem issues is what and are sure to be in some kind of an abusive relationship.
• Worse - The Fountainhead actually says that inferior people like Mrs Keating resent Roark. So I belong inferior sect of the human race:-(
• I'm Peter Keating. Or so i used to think(my friends assure me otherwise but then they're like me) I'm definitely not ambitious to the point of not caring what you throw aside like him, but i can't help looking up to Roark as an ideal (strange after my abusive diatribe against him, i know)
• My character is a blend of the shades of grey. There is no black and nor is there any white. I'm always stuck in the middle, whether of actions or even thoughts and opinions. And according to Ayn Rand, that is a sign of mediocrity.
• I couldn't stop reading Fountainhead before my Physics preparatory and almost failed as a result.
• I was very confused( more so than usual, and that's saying a lot) for months after i read Atlas Shrugged. I'd think a thousand times before i said or did anything. Was i a looter? A moocher?
• I still am confused. I don't know what to believe. What Ayn Rand says makes so much sense logically but to believe her would mean not being able to live up to those ideals and i'd just hate myself. I'd rather hate her than me.
• This, what Gore Vidal says, is what i'd like to believe: "This odd little woman is attempting to give a moral sanction to greed and self interest. She has a great attraction for simple people who are puzzled by organized society, who object to paying taxes, who dislike the “welfare” state, who feel guilt at the thought of the suffering of others but who would like to harden their hearts. For them, she has an enticing prescription: altruism is the root of all evil, self-interest is the only good, and if you’re dumb or incompetent that’s your lookout." Sigh...he is just so much more coherent than me. So yeah - what he says, goes.

There are a lot more reasons but it is past midnight and I'm quickly losing my ability to form full, complete sentences. And I really do not want to be thought self-obsessed(what with the personal vendetta against Roark in particular and all.)

Anindhita

This is the first poem I've written in many, many years ( lines with an abab rhyme scheme like "Once there was a goat, who wore a blue coat" etc, etc do not count - and i hope you do realize those lines were just an example)

This short one took me many, many days and many hours of Additional English classes to write and it may not be much but hey! I wrote a poem!

This poem kind of follows up on my fascination for the enigma that was Syd Barrett. I wasn't too impressed by the earlier Floyd hits like See Emily Play and couldn't really see the fuss everyone made about Syd Barrett (this may also be because of my incomplete knowledge - dunno) but Wish You Were Here is my favourite Pink Floyd album and Shine On You Crazy diamond - very clichéd i know - changed my world.

And hence the amateur attempt at trying to understand the LSD induced hallucinations and torture that destroyed the brilliant career that might have been (but Pink Floyd did just fine! better than fine without him you know..)

Oh and i worked really hard on the meter of the poem and hope for it to be named after me. ( I talk too much and it stops now) and i hope to dear god that this poem doesn't sound pretentious (my worst nightmare)

Welcome.

The hole beckons

Bed of ice, floor of flames

Hands reaching. Bound, by straight jackets

Slime oozes; madness blinds

Shouts unheard fade

Mercy.

Sorry that what i wrote about the poem was shorter than the poem:( but a decent post has to have a certain length you know..

Anindhita

The Unfinished Symphony

I'm posting this story I wrote when i was 12 to remind myself of how it felt to feel as though you could do anything, aspire to anything and you dreamed big. I dreamed of becoming an author - of being read and adored by millions. Now though, i'm plagued with fears and uncertainties and insecurities galore. I no longer want to be a writer. I just want to be my fearless 12 year old self again.

So here goes my wannabe L.M.Montgomery/Meg Cabot attempt (unedited for reasons of authenticity) at a story..what i so lovingly and modestly had named - The Unfinished Symphony (oh thats coz the story was left incomplete) (try and read with a straight face and do please please remember that it was a 12 year old girl who wrote that - I've got to be honest - in earnest and unfortunately not as a spoof. So be kind.)


Chapter 1


It was a fine summer day. The sun smiled down on mellow pastures, blessed the cool green meadows with its warm radiance and even the clouds seemed relaxed and content.
Under the azure blue sky, on the path fated to be one of those many paths which change destinies forever, walked a young girl whose destiny was fated to be changed by that very path. Menley was one of those creatures to whom life is always a warm sunny day. Lucky she was not to know of the other side of the world, which had gone unseen by her carefree, happy eyes. Menley didn’t see the beauty all around her, she moved as if in a dream thinking of the school she was to join that day. Not once did she have an attack of the nerves like any other newcomer might have - Menley was just used to moving around from town to town joining a new school wherever she went.

As she neared the school, she woke from her reverie seeing a gang of boys playing football. A blonde haired boy kicked the ball high and it fell at her feet. Without any hesitation she kicked the ball back and ran to join them. Now Menley, I forgot to mention was a tomboy. She despised girlish behavior of any sort and scorned gossip and girl talk.
Boys, she thought, were fun and uncomplicated and easy to talk to. Girls – bah – were so silly, fickle and never exerted themselves – talk, talk, talk was all they did. The boys just stared at her for a minute and then without a word welcomed her and they played vigorously for half an hour. Menley was just about to score another goal when the bell echoed through the grounds. “Good game”, the blonde haired boy shouted out to her.
All the others nodded at her. Menley was enjoying all this attention when one boy came up to her and said, “Girls should not play football”. She was dumbstruck. Who was this rude boy to come up to her and say such a thing when she had scored most of the goals in the game? No one no one dared speak like this to her! Flames of anger leapt into her eyes. “Well they should - the standard of the game would be much better then”, she shot back, turned around and left with her chin up in the air and her back straight – very haughtily in fact. That was a lie but she had to say something to preserve her honour!

A gang of girls under the shade of the maple tree in the corner of the grounds had been watching the game in progress. “Who is that girl? She is shameless!” “Did you see her doing that flippy flippy kick?” (She was referring to the cycle kick Menley had made)
“Roughing it out with the boys like that and she a new girl! God, no shame!” ”That’s the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life!” “Is she mad? What sort of a girl is she? I mean look at her! No dignity at all!”
“I think she's wonderful - I mean she is a new girl and has already made friends with so many.”
At this everybody went quiet. “But Narcy!” one exclaimed.
“Come on girls, it’s so unbelievable for a newcomer to make friends with so many people in half an hour. Of course, I don’t approve of her playing football either. But give her a chance. We hardly know her.” The one and only defender of poor Menley was Narcissa Wentworth. Narcy was the exact opposite of Menley. Narcy was glad to be a girl – proud of it actually. She was not all joy and sunshine like Menley was. I don't mean to say she was depressed and melancholic all the time; she just at times was a bit quiet and sad.
Oh yes - she was also very self-conscious.
All the other girls thought her very confident, sometimes arrogant and fun to be with.
Poor Narcy was never really understood by anybody. All she had for supposedly close friends were Regina, the golden haired princess who always devised means to bring Narcy down from the position of most popular girl of the school. Amber, the mousy, timid and shy slip of a girl who thought the world revolved around Narcy and Anna, the boisterous, noisy big boned red head who thought the world revolved around herself.

Narcy got up and went towards Menley followed by her posse. “Hi, I’m Narcissa Wentworth .What is your name?” “Menley Stonewall”, she said brusquely and walked away.
“I told you she wasn't to be bothered with Narcy”, said Anna with a smug expression on her face. “So arrogant! Did she hurt you dearie?” asked sweet Amber.
“Never mind”, said Narcy, “She looks as though she's angry with something or someone. Now no one can say I didn't try to be friendly. Come on we don't want to be late”

Blahblah High School was one reputed to be unusual and different in their approach to educate children. A lot of stress was applied on freedom of the students and it was more about learning how to live life than learning life itself.

Narcy entered the classroom to see Menley arguing hotly with Jamie Seymour of all people! Usually he was such a nice guy, always laughing and having fun. But then she recalled seeing them talking on the field and she thought that maybe she had annoyed him somehow then.” Break it up people,” Narcy heard a voice behind her and turned to face Miss Longleaf. Narcy liked her and smiled at her. She walked off to a seat beside Amber. “First day of school and both of you fighting?”
“Miss Longleaf ,it's not my fault. She is so conceited that I had to bring her down a notch or two.” Jamie complained.
“Well Mr. Busybody, it’s none of your business how I behave or what I do and I just met you and you think you've already figured me out? Keep out of my life!” Menley cried. The whole class gasped – she was a new girl and was talking like that to Jamie Seymour!
“Why you prickly little thorny bush! I - “ “ENOUGH”, shouted Miss Longleaf. You both are 15 and I won't have u behaving as though you are four. Go sit down and don't let me hear this nonsense anymore.”


Yeah that's how i thought 15 year olds behaved, back then:-)

Anindhita

MEMORIES

today I visited a place
located deep in the mind
felt a strong presence linger
melody of the love song.

memories awakening,
providing unwanted feelings
only one left so strongly
the feeling of missing you

can't stop myself from remembering;
thniking, of our time together
how is that I'm still able to smile,
when I have got this hint of sadness?

torn by remembering
that you were once mine;
we use to share imaginations
that brought our love to life.

even though it has been a while
it's clear that I haven't forgotten
just know that I never will
because its my heart you got in.

lovlyn

JIA - my heart

JIA- my heart
I have an elder sister. We never lived together till last year when I decided to come here. I came here because of her. She is an ordinary girl with an extraordinary will-power. Whenever I am sad or depressed, she supports me. I feel that I am the flower and she is the aroma- she is the essence of my life.
That’s why I call her JIA-which means HEART.

Richa Tomar

Jaipur

My Favorite city- JAIPUR
I got a wonderful chance to spend two beautiful years of my school days in Jaipur,the city I fall in love with..
Thinking about Jaipur flashes so many pictures in front of my eyes…
The mouth watering sweets and chaats, the pink walled city with numerous shopping places.
Jaipur is a wonderful blend of traditional and modern living, you can find ladies clad with handful churi’s and ghoonghat and the youngsters with their latest bikes and scooties…

My favorite place is city market-this comprises of bapu bazaar, indira bazaar, Nehru bazaar all consecutively located; for jewelery we have Johri bazaar which itself is made up of numerous lanes for different jewelery types..
Being in Jaipur fills me with immense joy and freshness..

Richa Tomar

My journey called LIFE

I read the book THE ALCHEMIST by Paulo Coelho. I like it.

It inspires me to follow my dreams, to work for it and to believe in what I do. I imagine myself at the place of Santiago- the shepherd who travels the world and searches for his treasure..

Though I am not searching for any treasure but i am searching for 'myself'...

a self which is important for an existence, a 'self' which is pure and innocent..and which connects me to the supreme power.

I am traveling a beautiful journey called LIFE...

Richa Tomar

My Best Friend is...

This piece is entirely dedicated to my dog - my little angel sent from above :)

My best friend is my dog. I've always known that. His name's Bravo. I remember the first time he came home, I was in Bhopal, 5 and a half years back. He traveled all the way from Hosur to Bhopal. He is a pedigree Labrador, only, not completely Indian. He is half Danish and half Indian. His looks are amazing and adorable (touch wood)! He has greenish brown eyes and a brown nose. He's a golden Labby.

He was already 3 months by the time he arrived. But, no regrets. He still looked like a puppy (although he was quite tall). We opened the gate and he ran inside. Nothing would've caught my attention better than him. The first thing he did, was not something a new pup would do. He, of course, jumped on me and brought me down. But, he also added a little something extra to that. Although, I wish not to say it, I confess, he pissed on me!!!

Poor little one. He traveled for 3 straight days to be with us. He was hungry and thin. We had prepared ourselves for that luckily, 3 days before he reached us. He was supposed to come a day earlier, as he was my birthday present. But it was delayed. Still, no regrets. It was worth it. Then, he ate the food, mixed with milk. Within 5 minutes, uncontrollably, he pooped on our carpet. But, we laughed. We weren't mad. We completely understood. As it was already night, my brother and I were getting ready for bed. My father came late those days, so my mother would stay awake till then. I wanted to kiss my dog's forehead so badly. But my mother said, "You can kiss him tomorrow, after he has had a shower." I couldn't wait! The funny part was, that night, I slept at the edge of my bed and closed my eyes. I opened them just to get a slight glimpse of my dog. But he had already jumped on the side and was waiting for me to look at him. His tongue was sticking out and he was wagging his tail. It was all of a sudden. I screamed and got up. He got scared too, and ran to the hall with his ears flying and flapping loosely. He skidded and fell! That was so hilarious and cute, I can never forget that.

Over the years, I've never realized that patting a dog would actually give me contentment. And hey! He's the only one who supports me, even when the world seems dead to me. If I'm most likely to go under depression, he's the only one who can console me. And he has that magic in him. Its not by words. Its by that spark in his eyes, that movement of his paws, that sweet, moist nose that touches my cheek when I hug him and the soft fur. He understands if i am sad. He comes to me, lies by my side and looks at me with an expression that reads: "Yes dear, I understand. Come, sit next to me and I'm sure you'll feel better." When I do sit next to him, he puts his paw on my lap as if to say, "Its alright. I'm here. Relax."

He can bring a smile on my face, whenever, wherever. All I gotta do, is sit by him, look into his eyes, hug him, kiss him, and let my emotions out. And it actually makes me feel better!!! I feel renewed.

Its true, what they say... "Nothing can give happiness to a man better than an animal."

and

"A dog is man's best friend."

- Madhuvanthi

The Reunion

The car is approaching the house, slowly, thrusting itself up the hill. Its loud purring seems to disturb the silence of the afternoon, but she hears only the thumping of her heart. As the tiny red spot becomes larger and larger, she sees its windows scintillating in the sunlight, announcing his arrival before he can do it himself.

One bead of perspiration after another makes its way slowly down the side of her forehead. The car stops in front of her door. How long has it been? Ten years. What will he think of her now? Her eyes are glued to the door of the car as a tuft of greying hair emerges, followed by grey eyes under thick grey eyebrows...

Their eyes meet.

- Maitri.

The Thunderstorm

The thunder cloud loomed overhead, though it had been only a short ten minutes since I saw it approaching. Eddies of dust and leaves rose and fell, as the whirring wind whistled through the trees. A roar of thunder rolled across the dark sky. A dead tree burst into flames as it was hit by a streak of lightning, only to be doused immediately by a torrent of rain.

- Maitri

Who are "THEY" ???

They stand in front of schools, colleges, shopping malls and even in front of big houses in small localities chewing pan, spitting on the side walk, talking and laughing in loud, raucous tones.

They think they're doing the world a favor(maybe they are) by doing whatever it is, that they do ( talk rudely, demand for highly unreasonable sums of money, tamper with the sanctioned meters and what not).

Anyway we all work to earn a living (ok I don't big deal, my father still does!) in the process we all may lie, we all may cheat, we all may make mistakes (trying not to be a hypocrite by stating my own mistakes) BUT is this all we do (lie, cheat and make mistakes) ??? (nope) the answer is loud and clear. But these people (the one's who stand in front of schools, colleges etc) this is all they are eagerly waiting to do all day long. So now we know if hell exists(maybe it does, wow now I'm scared), who's going there first and who's going to the darkest, deepest abyss of it . "THEY" are going there without a doubt , with the rest of the rotten-minded jerks out there.

Jokes apart, you've been reading this article (if you could call it that) for the past minute or so asking yourself who this "THEY" are ??? or some of you would have already guessed who they are, but just for those who haven't quiet figured it out yet and also for my own mental satisfaction let me tell you who "THEY' are . "THEY" are none other than our very own , thieving and pretentious auto drivers, bloody auto drivers (filth filled moronic hags) who should be suspended on public lamp posts and shot with infested shit balls!!! I'm sure most of you agree :P

P.S: i)Learn to drive car/two-wheeler
ii)Use public transport
iii)Walk (you'll lose weight)
iv)Ok take an auto if its a life/death situation(oh they may say 'NO' so have a back-up plan
ALWAYS)

Hahahahaha ... hope you enjoyed reading this one :)
-Rebecca.

I knew it was you

Hey guys... This is a poem I thought I'd write, just like that.

Started off on an internet chat
Spoke for hours together;
I'm sure no one can beat that
As it was longer than a day.

We exchanged phone numbers
To talk and know our voices;
And I was munching on cucumbers
While having a nice chat.

We planned on meeting pretty soon
We both were equally excited.
In excitement, I dropped my metal spoon,
And it hit the ground with a "ting".

We met at a rehearsal of a song
We both were motionless;
As if we'd known each other too long,
When it'd only been a month.

Days went by and time flew.
You started loving me.
You finally said, "I love you".
I was shocked, as were you.

I never took it seriously
Until time showed me way;
I loved talking to you continuously
And like that, it went on.

I had a person on my mind
But then you walked in too.
I was confused, I had to find;
If it were him or you.

Although I've told you plenty of times
That I love him, not you,
I begin to feel, over those times
That it's not him, it's you.

And only then, we have to fight!
The annoying life's surprise.
It's then I realized, I was wrong and you were right
I think I love you now.

And now you say you don't love me
Because I love him.
How do I explain this? You see,
No, it's only you.

I hate to admit love because
I want to live innocent
Till the time I get married, because
I hate to worry my parents.

I was wrong in telling you
I love him, not you.
I was mad, for the way you,
Spoke the other night.

I know, you meant it as a joke
But, it really hurt me bad.
And now, I know I can't evoke
A feeling of love again.

I knew it was you. Yes, I did.
But I still can't say, "I love you"
As I want to live innocent, like I already said
Else I'd break my daddy's heart.

Now do you get me?
Why I can't confess?
What if you leave me?
I can't take another regret.

Let's be friends for the time being
Later, we'll figure out the rest.


-Madhuvanthi

as the clock turns back...

I open the door softly and tiptoe into the room. Looking towards the window, I see the silhouette stretched out on the bed. Satisfied, I turn around to leave the room and stop, rooted to the spot.

A streak of moonlight shines into the room through a gap in the curtains. It falls on a little photograph standing by the closet. Soft brown eyes, so like my own, look affectionately down upon me. As a wave of emotion surges up within me, I close my eyes. My thoughts begin to whirl, to rewind. Stop. I see those same brown eyes in front of me, now looking up at me...

Wisps of grey hair fall on a wrinkled face. The firm chin and smiling lips are no longer as in the photograph, but sagging with age. Yet, those eyes are sparkling with a vitality so youthful that it amazes me. So much is communicated as they simply look into mine.

As the small rough hand clasped in mine tightens its grip, I feel the warmth that the voice and lips are unable to express. The hand is burning with heat and my heart skips a beat as I try to suppress the thought that it will soon be cold...

My heart is being wrenched like a wet cloth. The eyes, still looking into mine, seem to sense my grief. As they become milder and envelop me with tenderness and love, all the happy days of the past rush into my head, making my distress harder than ever to bear.

With a final glance at me, they close.

My eyes open with a start. Gazing into my depths from the picture, like pools of warm honey, are the same enchanting eyes.

- Maitri

How Smart is your right foot?

HOW SMART IS YOUR RIGHT FOOT??
TRY THIS OUT!

This is Hysterical. It is absolutely true. It takes 2 seconds.
Its from an orthopedic Surgeon. This will confuse your mind and you will keep trying over and over again to check if you can outsmart your foot, But you can't. Its pre-programmed in your brain!

1. While sitting at your desk in front of your Computer/Laptop, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.

2. Now, while doing this. Draw number '6' in the air with your right hand. Your foot will change direction ;)

Hehe!! I told u so. And there's nothing you can do about it :P

-Waseema

10 reasons why baking is fun! :)

1. 1. It is relaxing

   2. The smell while baking is different and unmatched (one word : AMAZING!)

   3. You can freely expel your

   creative energy.

   4. Whipping up ingredents together is fun

   5. The ingredents itself are fun to shop for .Makes you feel like your on an adventurous journey to find all your clues gather them in your basket before others can lay their hands on them ;)

   6. The product is the result of your hardwork.

   7. Watching the flour rise is exciting.

   8. When simple things like butter and cocoa etc mix its so amazing to see the final product which is something completely different and beautiful.

   9. Glossy cakes,cookies, breads etc....Who doesnt love them ;)

   10. They taste Heavenly :P~

   Rishika :)

God, men and women

One fine day God comes down, walks into the world and says :-

"I want the men to form two queues, one line for the men who had control over their women, and the other one for the men who were controlled by their women. Also, I want all the women to go away so that no man and woman can talk."

Next time God comes back, the women are gone, and there are two lines. The line for the men who were controlled by their women is 100 miles long, and in the line of men who had control over their women there is only one man

God gets mad and says, "You men should be ashamed of yourselves. I created you in my image, and you were all controlled by your mates. Look at the only one of my sons who stood up and made me proud. Learn from him!" "Tell them, my son, how did you manage to be the only one in this line?"

The man replies,

"I don't know, my wife told me to stand here."

-Anisha Peter

I WILL SURVIVE

first I was afraid,
I was petrified
kept thinking I could never live
without you by my side
But I spent so many nights
thinking how you did me wrong
I GREW STRONG
I learned how to carry on
and so you're back
from outer space
I just walked in to find you here
with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed my stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
you'd be back to bother me

Go on now, go walk out the door
just turn aroung now
'cause you're not welcome any more
weren't you the one, who tried to hurt me with GOODBYE??
you think I'd crumble
you think I'd lay down and die?
oh no, not I
I WILL SURVIVE
as long as I know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I've got all my life to live
I've got all my love to give
and I will survive.

It took all the strength I had
not to fall apart
kept trying hard to mend
the pieces of my broken heart
and I spent so many nights
just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry,
NOW i hold my head up high
and you see me, somebody new
I'm not that chained up little girl
still in love with you,
and so you felt like dropping in
and just expect me to be free
now I'm saving all my love
for someone who's loving me


-lovlyn

Bill Watterson : Journey with Calvin and Hobbes

Like most people, Bill Watterson did not have instant success with his passion for cartooning. Instead, it was something he did in his spare time whilst working in an advertising job to pay the bills.
Many strip ideas were considered by Watterson and submitted to various syndicates. After several rejections, he did receive some positive feedback around one strip that featured a side character called 'Marvin' (the little brother of the main character) who had a stuffed tiger. Encouraged by the feedback, Watterson reworked his idea for the strip to focus on these characters.
The first strip was published on November 18, 1985. Whilst it had taken a while for Watterson to get published, within a year of syndication, Calvin and Hobbes was being published in around 250 newspapers and in wide circulation around the world. In this sense, Calvin and Hobbes was an 'instant' success.
Accolades for Watterson soon flowed in. Watterson twice received the Reuben Award for Outstanding Cartoonist of the Year from the National Cartoonists Society (1986 and 1988, and nominated in 1992). In 1988 the Society awarded him the Humor Comic Strip Award. Watterson was also featured in the Los Angeles Times, one of the major newspapers in the USA, in 1987.

Sadly, after a decade of strips, Watterson decided to call it quits. He sent a letter in 1995 to all editors whose newspapers carried his strip:
I will be stopping Calvin and Hobbes at the end of the year. This was not a recent or an easy decision, and I leave with some sadness. My interests have shifted however, and I believe I've done what I can do within the constraints of daily deadlines and small panels. I am eager to work at a more thoughtful pace, with fewer artistic compromises. I have not yet decided on future projects, but my relationship with Universal Press Syndicate will continue.
That so many newspapers would carry Calvin and Hobbes is an honor I'll long be proud of, and I've greatly appreciated your support and indulgence over the last decade. Drawing this comic strip has been a privilege and a pleasure, and I thank you for giving me the opportunity.
The 3,160th and final strip, "It's a magical world, Hobbes ol' buddy!", ran on Sunday, December 31, 1995. It depicted Calvin and Hobbes outside in freshly-fallen snow, reveling in the wonder and excitement of the winter scene. The last panel shows Calvin and Hobbes zooming off on their sled as Calvin exclaims. "Let's go exploring!". It was a beautiful and fitting way to end one of the greatest comic strips that have ever been drawn.

Before one million comes one

This is a song written by an Indian metal band called Motherjane.

There was one
who gave dignity to the dying
who brought hope to the living

There was one
who gave to a different degree
who proved with certainty,
that before one million comes one.

There was one
who gave a handful and a smile
who brought rest for just a while

There was one
who did what was possible
who took small sacrifices
and built a miracle

There was one, now there are a million
There was one, now there are a million

Coz when the horizon of a desert speaks of an ocean
A rain cloud is god sent, a raindrop is ecstasy
before one million comes one,
each similar to a different degree.

Anisha Peter

Visuals :)

~ When my lens becomes my eye ~

Scarlet

When the sky decided the burn...

Pa ra pa pa paaa... *I'm lovin it!*

to *C* : food lovers ;)

~Sigma Mall

The enlightened leaf!

Lost in the concrete jungle!

~Krithika .R.

An ordinary day

She stared at the vegetables, willing them to climb out of their boxes and into her shopping cart. Were tomatoes supposed to be hard or squishy? What were cauliflowers supposed to look like? It was all so confusing.

She winced as she felt a kick in her stomach, the baby was growing restless. It was nearly 9 o’ clock, and she needed to get home fast. She stumbled through the process of grocery shopping and paid for her items, eager to get there as quickly as possible. Waiting for an auto in the rain was infuriating, especially when there seemed to be none on the road and just when she was about to give up, one tiny little auto came rumbling down the road. She waved her arm up and down frantically, and hailed the auto, he asked for an exorbitant amount of money at first, but took another look at her and motioned for her to get in. The humidity soon got to her, little beads of perspiration started to trickle down her face, down to her neck, settling in a small pool on top of her enormous stomach. She was no longer anxious, as she could see the building up ahead.

The lights flickered in the building, and everything seemed to come to life almost at once. Several vehicles came parked in the front, and an array of people started to get out, trickling to the front in somewhat neat rows, the sound of laughter and casual chatter making a low buzz. Joining the small group of people, many of them old and a few young, she made her way up to the 15th floor. From there, it was almost mechanical; there was no particular need to think about it. The baby stirred in her stomach, people ran around her making their ways into rooms that looked like small apartments, she navigated her way skillfully and hummed a soft tune to try and calm the baby down. Finally she entered a room and moved towards the corner, a few friendly faces smiled at her. A man came in soon after and the silence filled the room.
“I see some new faces!” he said, enthusiastically “Let’s fill them in on things shall we?” his face searched the room and landed on her. “You, at the back. You can go first. Tell us your name and why you’re here.” She was startled at first, but stood up slowly and cheerfully said “My name is Maya, and I’m here to get my high school diploma.”

Mithra

Your posts

Okay, looks like I've taken a look at all the posts on your blog. These are the people who've posted. Let me know if I've missed any:

Purvaa
Ananya
Madhu
Taarika
Sam
ADITI(WHICH ONE)- there's a poem about class and a post about the pleasures of life
Manjari
Deepakshi
Lovlyn
Smit
Apoorva
Anisha
Elia
Sakshi
Shalini Sinha
Winona
Rebecca
Priya
Mithra

There are posts without names, please let me know who these are: "Perfect for Today"
"ME"
And someone please tell the rest of the class that they need to post, and not just pictures.

K

Marking

Hi! 72 posts! That's a record, I'm certain; can't remember any other class doing that many.
So I'm starting marking, and I see that sometimes the post just says 'posted by PYEC13' and that's a problem, as you can see. So will each of you look through and ensure that your names are there? Also, please decode nick names.
K

The language of your eyes

When I looked in your eyes,

I remember seeing my reflection in it;

and your laughter, your joy.

I saw you in your eyes,

everything you are, and everything you wanted to be.

I saw your spirit to live,

to take life as it comes,

the strength to fight, to love

as madly as you could, in the wildest dreams.

In your eyes, I saw everything I wanted to be,

everything I would spend the rest of my life trying to be.

But not anymore.

No longer does the spirit live,

No longer does the strength to love exist.

In those eyes, I see the sickness of the heart,

I see the pain that you've hid all these years from me.

I see the tears,

I see the shattered hope.

I see the reflection of my helplessness,

I see my inability to reach out.

I see the lost smile in your eyes.

In your eyes, my dear mother,

I see a lost smile.

And all I want is to find that,

and bring it back,

for I know, that if not anything,

it is one thing that'll keep you, me, us,

going.


I wrote this for my mother when she was going through a rough phase.
Thought I would share it with you :)

Purvaa

A first for everthing.

I remember like it was yesterday…..yet in ways it seems like it happened decades ago. The memory is so raw and old at the same time that it takes me a while to remember and think back to when it actually happened. There were no melodramatic scenes, like I had imagined in my head…only my heart racing (just like everyone else I’m sure), trying to absorb the shock. Well…no dramatics until the funeral, but that was the next day and honestly, I found it all disgusting! The weeping, the wailing, the flailing of arms…all so pointless!
It was a pleasant enough night, a few nights before my 1st PUC final examinations, and I was sitting on this very sofa that I sit on now as I write this, watching TV. I can’t remember what I was watching but I know that I never finished…must have been a football match. When the phone rang, I answered with a little excess annoyance thinking ‘Why would anyone call at such an hour!’. But the moment the caller introduced herself I knew….but I thought it was grandmother, after all she was old.
The caller was my grandmother’s (Dad’s mother) landlord, saying she wanted to talk to my mum. Call me morbid, but death is and has been the first thing I think about when such a mysterious call comes; maybe it’s a way to brace myself for the coming bad news…expect the worst so nothing else will seem so bad! I felt myself regretting already, for all the things that I had not gotten a chance to say to my Granny. I wished for another chance….When my mother placed the phone down I nonchalantly asked her, feigning innocence just in case she was highly emotional (scariest thing in life- an overly emotional person!), what was happening. She gave me a weird look and said something that didn’t really register in my mind at first. Not because I was devastated or anything but it was just surprising! She said that my father had fallen unconscious in the garage of his apartment building. My heart skipped a beat but I told myself that it was nothing because he was one person I had never imagined dying so far! The logical part of me kept saying ‘Oh, he’s such a healthy person, this must be one of those black out things, so why are you being such a spaz?!’. My illogical side was saying ‘No he can’t die first…it should be Ajji (granny) or Mum who should go first because they are older and less healthy!!!’. So I went back to watching TV, almost forgetting about this (turns out I’m really good at repressing memories!).
About 15 to 20 minutes later the next phone call came, it was my Aunt this time, and I didn’t even bother lifting my head. My mum gasped for breath and told us that he had passed away….I remember two tear drops rolling down my cheeks, before I was told to calm down and wait for more information. I sat there, on the sofa, unable to digest anything that was happening or figure out WHY ME!
I cried a LOT that night, unable to grasp a simple enough concept, which was even more frustrating. My mind kept coming back to one single question that I ask myself even today- did he think of me before he died? Was I, his daughter, his last thought, if not, did he even think of me that day? A plaguing question, that was to bring many more tears into my eyes, because I doubted it heavily.
I never wanted to see “it”…the body…from the very beginning I had made it clear that I would not attend the funeral. My logic was (and still is) that he’s dead, meaning there is no life in the body, so why should I go and say ‘Goodbye’ or pray to it!!! It didn’t make any sense! Yet somehow I found myself standing at the door of my dad’s house, shocked to see all the sobbing, weeping people (which I found scary). My grandmother started pulling on my hand, crying, asking me to come and say my goodbyes. But I couldn’t….my mind would not let me and I’m grateful….seeing my dad anything but alive would have scarred me and I knew it. My granny eventually forgave me, but it took a few months and some nasty comments on her part.
To date I don’t regret the decision I made that day…..a distant memory...it changed my life.

Ananya!

American begging in India

Horrible isn't it? You must have read today's newspaper - Bangalore mirror cover page. An American woman begging in our streets. Only, it's not for herself, it's for her dogs. She has 7 dogs. She had 2 parrots that died 2 months ago. As it goes, she is a professional dog trainer and unfortunately, quit the job as she met with an accident. Her husband and she can survive with the money her husband alone earns now, as a worker at a restaurant. But its not enough to feed their hungry and loving dogs.

Let's look at our carelessness first. The number one reason that caused this misery to this innocent woman was the careless driving of the person who caused the accident. Traffic sense - zero in India! We make tons of accidents possible. Why? because, we don't think; we don't care; we are only worried about ourselves and not the others around us. Had the person driving the vehicle driven the vehicle more cautiously, all this wouldn't have happened.

Secondly, as it is, we never care at all for animals. And now, we don't let the little number of people who do, to peacefully do their bit for them. It's disturbing.

Okay, at least we have the decency to provide first aid to a human who might die if not looked upon immediately after an accident. On the other hand, a truck driver runs over a dying dog, most of the times, intentionally. Sometimes, laughing at the way it moves, suffering to even breathe it's last. It's a shame!

Nothing's going to happen on its own. We have to take the initiative.

My purpose of writing this article is not just to provide information, but to request all of you to contribute something to the lady's dogs.

Note: I will personally go and give the contributions to her. It may be in the form of food (dog food) or just a cash contribution. Please, if you can do it on your own, DO IT! or else, hand over how much ever you'd like to contribute (even if it's just 10 bucks) to me, so I can go and hand it over to the lady.

Help now, or never.


- Madhuvanthi

Past, Present and Future

Hiya girls :) It's Taarika here! I thought I'd do a story post so here's the prologue to one of the ideas I had a long time ago... It's a bit confusing so I thought I'd just introduce you guys to it a bit so you're not totally lost :) It's a story that starts in the present and then transports the characters into their country's past. While they're there they change their future. Okay well I don't know if that made much sense but I hope you like it! :)

-----------

When the world stopped turning for me, the only thing I could see, stretching through the landscapes of my life, was The Bound. We were bound by fate, by life and by love, bound to do what we did and bound to live like we have. It’s no use saying we were bound tightly though. Any of one of us could’ve stepped away at any moment; we could’ve run from this and saved our souls though we’d have sacrificed our lives for them. We didn't though, as much as some of us wanted to. We had reached the point beyond reasoning, where all we had left was each other and ourselves.

It’s funny in a way to do what we are doing now- binding our lives so tightly together that I wonder... If I had made a different choice would we have realised it?Would the books and diamond have mysteriously vanished? Would we have searched for them or would our memories have been wiped blank? A new start, a clean break? Even now, I wonder if we should do what we are doing- if there is a reason, a thread of sanity to all that we’ve done through the years, to what we’re doing now. Just plunging ourselves back into the same cycle. Wouldn’t it be simpler, easier to let our innocent selves live in a parallel universe with no difference and let some one else change the world? Let some one else be disappointed, let down and distanced from the ones they love.

But if Aidan could hear me, he’d say I’d let myself get bitter after all these years about something that we’d had no choice about. Some one somewhere had just pointed to us and said,

“You’re it. Go do what the rest of them won’t.” We were the ones who did the dirty work so everyone else could live in peace. And we’ll keep doing it, through the years, forwards and backwards through time. Our lives so bound by it that we’ll only notice we’re doing it to ourselves at this very moment. This one moment in time, before we doom ourselves to the fate we’ve already had. But it’ll be done and if some day during one of the long years of time, one of me decides not to, at least I won’t be around to see it.

When Did I Fall?

He stood there, looking away from me. I could only see his profile. The first thing I noticed about him was his hair (You couldn’t miss it!). His curls caught the sun light oh-so-perfectly! *sigh* How could one look so good? I wondered as I looked him over from head to toe. Curly hair, a slight tan, strong jaw line, broad shoulders. It doesn’t get better than this, I thought to myself.

He stepped off the pavement, time and space seemed to slow down and merge. I watched in a daze as he got closer and closer to me. I woke up as soon as I hit the ground. He had stepped off the pavement and onto the road, right in front of my bike. I had crashed into him and that’s when I fell.

(Note: This was inspired by all the random people who cross the road without looking left AND right before crossing. I nearly hit someone the other day, so I write this from (near) experience.)

Sam

Hey guys, Aditi here!!!!!!! My internet's back! Finally! I can post again, woohoo! :D :D :D and since I'm oh so happy today, I've written something about .....

The Little Pleasures of Life!!!!!!!

What makes me truly happy? I’ve been asked that question innumerable times – whether as part of a questionnaire, during career counselling, or generally while chatting with friends … and it got me thinking. There’s a lot in the simple everyday things I do which can make me inexplicably happy – which might seem crazy to you, but trust me, if you think about it, you’ll realize it’s the little things in life, not the great ones, which make you truly happy!
Take my life, for instance. I’m a pretty ordinary teenage girl, I go to college every morning, come back in the evening, nothing remarkable about that right? But then, it doesn’t take much to please me. Catching a Volvo bus every morning to get to college makes me happy! Ok, forgive me for sounding like a simpleton, but that bright red AC bus is just bliss to travel by! It’s much better than the regular battered NON-AC buses where you never get place to sit and are continuously being pushed around by uncouth men! Or worse, have to stand for hours amidst smelly armpits!
Or maybe it’s not the Volvo, maybe it’s to do with the fact that the only day I need to come early to college is for street dance, hence the need for a bus. (I travel by college van otherwise!) And I LOVE street dance! Trust me, there’s no better way to start off the day than with some exercise – it’s so invigorating and you honestly feel like there’s some purpose to life! Especially when you’re watching these seniors pull off daredevil stunts you wouldn’t dream of doing (I really can’t, because when I tried one of them I almost broke my back! So much for being a cool street dancer)
Sitting in class, sneakily munching “Chit Chat”, sniggering at that unsuspecting teacher’s unfortunate choice of earring, staring at the needle in the watch that just WON’T budge, falling asleep while being READ OUT a certain Shakespearean play … all this is pretty mundane, but I LOVE it all because it makes up college life. Yeah sure, going out clubbing is WAY more fun, but if one can find joy in routine everyday activities, WHY THE HELL NOT?
Of course, there are also those lucky days when we have a Kannada play during lunch break, so we can go shopping on Commercial Street! Not high-end stuff, but hey, it’s the experience more than anything else! And there’s always Chocolicious to visit! For those of you who don’t know, Chocolicious is this divine little place on Commercial Street where you get AMAZING liquor chocolates!!! Or at least, Purvaa and I always seem to go high once we’re done “sampling” all the chocolates!
I know a lot of you have written already about this, but I can't resist - RAIN!!!!!!! Especially if you're travelling back home with zany Apoorva who INSISTS on splashing in puddles, thereby resulting in YOUR jeans getting wet, and forcing you to dance to "Chak Dhoom Dhoom", which is a song where the actors dance in the rain! Oh, and the best part - the dance step involves you jutting your ... ahem.... backside out, and shaking madly!! Do ask Apoorva for a demo if you don't believe me! Or, she'll delight the general public by climbing onto the walls of the Jayadeva Hospital and holding my hand while I walk sanely on the ground, and she walks along the WALL!!! Oh, but I have an important job - lifting the branches and leaves that get in her way!
I seem to have a lot of eccentric friends to travel back home with. Today, as I was leaving college, I shared an auto with two seniors - Uttara and Madhuri, also from the street dance - and for some reason they delighted in peeping out of the auto, giving random passersby the thumbs-up, screaming "ADITIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" at some poor unsuspecting girl walking past or folding their hands in respect and bowing solemnly at an old man shuffling down the road. What was I doing? Oh, I was covering my head and praying that we would reach Shivajinagar quickly so I could run out and never be associated with those delinquents again!!!!!!!!! (But hee hee, they paid for me :D something else that made me happy! Yes, I get cheap thrills!)
Fine, I guess I pretty much deserve the “cutesy” tag from Sahana Ma’am because of whatever I’ve written. But with all the depression, anxiety and sleepless nights that we’ll have to face these 3 years, it’s important to find happiness in whatever you can!! Especially in each other. There’s nothing like friendship to light up even the darkest days! (Ooh – philosophical much?) So here’s to making every moment count, to finding cheer in the most commonplace activities, and sticking by each other through everything, C-gulls!

Whew! Hello everyone!!!

I've FINALLY managed to access this blog! It feels so good to able to type out here! I had tried accessing it in June, but my dear screen had a nasty habit of screaming " ACCESS DENIED" each time I tried to sign in. I thought it was because I got the password wrong, but apparently the Privacy Settings that my internet-server has are really high. Of course, the technician added some jazz about internet-speed and what-d'you-call-it net connections and a whole lot of terms that made no sense even to me... Point being that I've got a new internet connection and voila! (Sorry for boring all of you with such a waste of cyber-space but really, after all that one goes through- including the paranoia that accompanies feeling technologically handicapped when you're only eighteen- I need to vent here!)

So, HAPPY NEW YEAR everyone!!! (No, no, it isn't New Year, it's just me!)

Ah, and as a - token - of appreciation to you all for having put up with my whining, I'm attaching a Youtube link below. It's one of the most hilarious I've seen and do, do, do watch it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8RAM8Lg80o&feature=related

-Manjari

Do I love you?

Do I love you?
I don’t know if I love you,
but whenever I see your face
nothing else seems to matter
and my heart begins to race.

I don’t know if I love you,
but whenever I think of you and me
a smile creeps onto my face
and I know we're meant to be.

I don’t know if I love you,
but whenever I’m with you
you make me feel special
and the world seems perfect.

I don’t know if I love you,
but whenever you hold me in your arms
time seizes to move
and everything becomes calm.

I don’t know if I love you,
but whenever I look into your eyes
I see everything that I need
for me to live this life.

I don’t know if I love you,
I don’t really know

All I know is now I just can't imagine

my life without you.

-Deepakshi :)