Dear Reader,
Hello once again. The stupid exams are finally over, and sadly, despite all the studying I did pathetically. Plus, I’m doing pretty well at the Medical Entrance Institution, 2nd or 3rd in every test. And in school I’m barely passing. It sucks. Tonight, I shall let you in with how I celebrated the ending of the exams and the classic Manchester Derby that I witnessed today. So, without any further ado I shall start.
The half-yearlies ended this Friday. I hadn’t asked for permission to go out from Mother and wasn’t bothered asking either. This led to a shouting bout early in the morning between us; in the end after getting pretty pissed she gave me some money and asked me to give a definite time as to when I shall enter the fortified walls of the house. I said 4 with no plan in mind whatsoever. I went to school and met with a few people who I though I’d go along with. The two Sh brothers, Julian and Tranquil among them. I did not want to drink so the Sh brothers were dismissed. Tranquil was going with complete snobs and fakes who I don’t want to have anything to do with, at least for now. Julian and Chopie were going far away to Noida for a night spend for which I did not have permission. So, that plan was fucked too.
I had it in the back of my mind that spending the day by myself wouldn’t be that bad. Therefore, I turned to this feeling. Caught the bus back home and got off at Ambience mall, went to the KFC there, bought a Zing Kong Box and sat down to eat by myself. And you know what, it was enjoyable. I hadn’t been so free for a long time. I had money in my pocket and 3 hours to be by myself. Weirdly I found this quite elating. I took an auto to IFFCO Chowk and took another stuffed fucking auto till Rajiv Chowk. I reckon I finished 6-7 cigarettes in these 20 minutes. I took a rickshaw then to my supplier. Must have been a 30 minute cycle, where I reached a total of 10 fags. On the way I realized that company disgusts me, everyone such a hypocrite and shallow that it can’t be laughed off anymore. I got off, and a new guy gave it to me this time, a old man who affectionately is called ‘Tau’. I took four packs of 100 bucks and one big one for 150. On the way back home I made an untidy little joint for myself, and trust me this is the best my lungs have ever tasted. They were in joy by half of it. I bought another pack of fags for home and was home by 3 o’clock. An hour before. I guess the folks were pretty impressed, as this is quite unlike my usual thing.
These series of events made me feel like Holden Caulfield. It was pretty cool.
I was lying down when mum came and asked me if I wanted to go for a party, where Tranquil’s family would be too. I called Tranquil, Olaf picked up and the dick told me that Tranquil wouldn’t come. So I didn’t go. And when my parents got back they told me he had come. It’s been a long time since I’ve met him at such a party. That got screwed too.
Amazing way to celebrate the end of exams, huh?
Now to the match.
First, the filthy hypocrites can fuck off. Manchester City are cocky and today’s performance justified it. I won’t be a disgrace on a football fan and agree that United deserved the three points willingly. But, you must accept that City is finally a force in the league, they played some pretty heady football today. Illogical refereeing in the end, pathetic judgment of time. Fuck it. We’ve finally lost the first game of the season, and are yet only 3 points behind are cross town rivals plus we have another game in hand.
Show us and the Manchester derby some respect now Ferguson and all you glory hunting United fans.
But, easily the classiest game the season had had yet.
So long for now, I’ll write again in a while. Goodnight. I shall now go and use what’s left of Friday’s stock.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
An Ode To MJ (The Singer)
Dear Reader,
This hasn't been written by me. It's been written by Tranquil's God aka Jon Lajoie. But, it's a perfectly written tribute to the King/Queen of Pop.
I'm not getting time to write owing to the very irritating half yearlies. Exams are pointless.
Bear with the tribute till then.
"Oh my god, did you hear about Michael Jackson?"
"Yeah, I heard about Michael Jackson. It's crazy, right?"
"Yeah, I can't believe it. All of a sudden, the media is on HIS side."
"I know, it's crazy, right?"
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Michael Jackson's such a freak!"
You hear it a thousand times a week,
on every fuckin' TV screen,
and every fuckin' magazine.
Yeah sure we liked him for a while,
for a few years when he was in style,
then someone said "he's a pedophile
and fuckin' boys is what makes him smile."
Then there was a punchline every day,
about his "skeletor-like face"
and how he "loves 12 year old balls"
We didn't care if it was true or false.
So don't pretend that you give a fuck,
keep talking 'bout how "he sucked 12 year old cock,
and went from being a cute little black kid,
and died as a white skeleton robot."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
Remember when he dangled his kid from a balcony,
I wasn't hearin' you call him legendary,
And when we heard that shit about the Culkin kid,
We said "Oh my god, Jacko's motherfuckin' sick!"
"He likes fuckin' kids! He likes fuckin' kids!"
Nobody was talkin 'bout his music.
Now if I said he died chokin' on a kid's dick, you'd say
"Oh my god, that's so offensive!"
Well fuck you, you motherfuckin' cunt ass bitch,
Everyone in the news you hear from motherfucking cribs,
On your high horse sayin' that I'm a demon,
'Cause I say "you overdosed on a boy's semen."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Oh, it's so sad that Michael passed away,
we loved him so much!"
Really, really, did you love him? Because from where I'm standing, it kinda sounds like you HATED him, and that you called him a freak, and that you wanted him to die. But now that he's dead, you love him, and "he's a legend," and "he's so amazing, oh we love Michael Jackson!"
How about you go FUCK yourself, you big bunch of fuckin' hypocrites. Here, I'm gonna do this for you, I'm gonna do this for you.
"Billy Jean was not his lover,
of course she wasn't, she had a vagina,
She was older than 12 years old..."
Fuck you, hypocrites!
-R.I.P Michael-
-I hope there are little boys up in heaven-
-Oh fuck off! It's a joke..-
-Fucker-
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
This hasn't been written by me. It's been written by Tranquil's God aka Jon Lajoie. But, it's a perfectly written tribute to the King/Queen of Pop.
I'm not getting time to write owing to the very irritating half yearlies. Exams are pointless.
Bear with the tribute till then.
"Oh my god, did you hear about Michael Jackson?"
"Yeah, I heard about Michael Jackson. It's crazy, right?"
"Yeah, I can't believe it. All of a sudden, the media is on HIS side."
"I know, it's crazy, right?"
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Michael Jackson's such a freak!"
You hear it a thousand times a week,
on every fuckin' TV screen,
and every fuckin' magazine.
Yeah sure we liked him for a while,
for a few years when he was in style,
then someone said "he's a pedophile
and fuckin' boys is what makes him smile."
Then there was a punchline every day,
about his "skeletor-like face"
and how he "loves 12 year old balls"
We didn't care if it was true or false.
So don't pretend that you give a fuck,
keep talking 'bout how "he sucked 12 year old cock,
and went from being a cute little black kid,
and died as a white skeleton robot."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
Remember when he dangled his kid from a balcony,
I wasn't hearin' you call him legendary,
And when we heard that shit about the Culkin kid,
We said "Oh my god, Jacko's motherfuckin' sick!"
"He likes fuckin' kids! He likes fuckin' kids!"
Nobody was talkin 'bout his music.
Now if I said he died chokin' on a kid's dick, you'd say
"Oh my god, that's so offensive!"
Well fuck you, you motherfuckin' cunt ass bitch,
Everyone in the news you hear from motherfucking cribs,
On your high horse sayin' that I'm a demon,
'Cause I say "you overdosed on a boy's semen."
Michael Jackson is dead,
don't pretend to give a shit,
you motherfuckin' hypocrites,
remember what you said he did.
Michael Jackson is dead,
no you never gave a shit,
so why are you pretendin',
you motherfuckin hypocrites.
"Oh, it's so sad that Michael passed away,
we loved him so much!"
Really, really, did you love him? Because from where I'm standing, it kinda sounds like you HATED him, and that you called him a freak, and that you wanted him to die. But now that he's dead, you love him, and "he's a legend," and "he's so amazing, oh we love Michael Jackson!"
How about you go FUCK yourself, you big bunch of fuckin' hypocrites. Here, I'm gonna do this for you, I'm gonna do this for you.
"Billy Jean was not his lover,
of course she wasn't, she had a vagina,
She was older than 12 years old..."
Fuck you, hypocrites!
-R.I.P Michael-
-I hope there are little boys up in heaven-
-Oh fuck off! It's a joke..-
-Fucker-
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Shrines In My Cupboard.
Dear Reader,
Due to a whole lot of indecision on my part and pressure to come up with new posts by you readers, I decided to write about all the three names my last post ended with. This decision has been reached after long hours of thinking while staring at the graffitied wall opposite of my very cushiony bed. I figured as Frank has a shrine of Billie Joe stashed in his infamous, now broken, ‘PANSY’ and Gee can’t help but referring to Green Day in his somewhat touching quotes, I’m actually doing them justice by including them in a single post. So, here it goes..
Billie Joe Armstrong! I shall let you judge him by saying something of the sort that he would say, “Fuck off! If you don’t then you’re not worth a fuck to me.”
Gerard Arthur Way is a moody bastard. He would sometimes call you his baby & order you to call him daddy or tell you to stop pissing your life off & go find a purpose to live.
Frank Iero! Hahaha! This man, if it’s safe to call him one, would go crazy on anything he lays his eyes on, your mum included, he would even hump your favorite teddy relentlessly in front of your pleading eyes.
However demented or retarded they may seem to you, they’re the least fake people you’ll ever hear of. Billie Joe IS Green Day and the other two are from the greatest comic book band to ever have walked on Earth, My Chemical Romance. Two bands which are synonymous for writing their own songs and making their own music unlike boy bands of today who have their lyrics written by half crazy ladies who come shrieking with lawsuits a year after the album release. Plus, unlike those wusses everything isn’t planned beforehand, like what they have to say on stage, the way they have to dance and the gay sex they need to have after the ending of the concert. BJ, Frank and Gee speak what they want not giving a shit about what the world thinks of their hairless chests.
Now I’ll fill you in with useless crap, which only a few will be interested in. Frank and Gerard smoke Marlboro Reds. Billie Joe Armstrong has/had a slight partial behavior towards his second wife, Mary Jane. Frank instead of a Bible keeps a copy of ‘The Cather in the Rye’ in his bedside cupboard & Gerard favorite comic book ever is ‘Watchmen by Alan Moore.’
What made them the shrines in my cupboard?
I owe Billie Joe for having taught me not to care and be myself. I learned to get up and come back stronger from Gerard. Frank made me impulsive and showed me how to not give a shit about what the world thinks of what you do.
They’ve done so much more for me other than being good teachers. Billie Joe wrote me an album called ‘American Idiot’, he just changed my nationality and name to avoid a lawsuit being thrown at him (I’m shameless.) Gerard wrote a comic book with my liking at the back of his mind which he named ‘The Umbrella Academy’. Frank did me the hugest favor; he made himself look kinda like me.
I shall repay the generosity they’ve shown towards me by fashioning my own band on them and writing things that would make their chest swell up with pride.
Thank you and all the crap I write at the end.
With All Due Respect,
Esh Dec In
Due to a whole lot of indecision on my part and pressure to come up with new posts by you readers, I decided to write about all the three names my last post ended with. This decision has been reached after long hours of thinking while staring at the graffitied wall opposite of my very cushiony bed. I figured as Frank has a shrine of Billie Joe stashed in his infamous, now broken, ‘PANSY’ and Gee can’t help but referring to Green Day in his somewhat touching quotes, I’m actually doing them justice by including them in a single post. So, here it goes..
Billie Joe Armstrong! I shall let you judge him by saying something of the sort that he would say, “Fuck off! If you don’t then you’re not worth a fuck to me.”
Gerard Arthur Way is a moody bastard. He would sometimes call you his baby & order you to call him daddy or tell you to stop pissing your life off & go find a purpose to live.
Frank Iero! Hahaha! This man, if it’s safe to call him one, would go crazy on anything he lays his eyes on, your mum included, he would even hump your favorite teddy relentlessly in front of your pleading eyes.
However demented or retarded they may seem to you, they’re the least fake people you’ll ever hear of. Billie Joe IS Green Day and the other two are from the greatest comic book band to ever have walked on Earth, My Chemical Romance. Two bands which are synonymous for writing their own songs and making their own music unlike boy bands of today who have their lyrics written by half crazy ladies who come shrieking with lawsuits a year after the album release. Plus, unlike those wusses everything isn’t planned beforehand, like what they have to say on stage, the way they have to dance and the gay sex they need to have after the ending of the concert. BJ, Frank and Gee speak what they want not giving a shit about what the world thinks of their hairless chests.
Now I’ll fill you in with useless crap, which only a few will be interested in. Frank and Gerard smoke Marlboro Reds. Billie Joe Armstrong has/had a slight partial behavior towards his second wife, Mary Jane. Frank instead of a Bible keeps a copy of ‘The Cather in the Rye’ in his bedside cupboard & Gerard favorite comic book ever is ‘Watchmen by Alan Moore.’
What made them the shrines in my cupboard?
I owe Billie Joe for having taught me not to care and be myself. I learned to get up and come back stronger from Gerard. Frank made me impulsive and showed me how to not give a shit about what the world thinks of what you do.
They’ve done so much more for me other than being good teachers. Billie Joe wrote me an album called ‘American Idiot’, he just changed my nationality and name to avoid a lawsuit being thrown at him (I’m shameless.) Gerard wrote a comic book with my liking at the back of his mind which he named ‘The Umbrella Academy’. Frank did me the hugest favor; he made himself look kinda like me.
I shall repay the generosity they’ve shown towards me by fashioning my own band on them and writing things that would make their chest swell up with pride.
Thank you and all the crap I write at the end.
With All Due Respect,
Esh Dec In
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
A-Tree.
Dear Reader,
Owing to the disappointing response to my idea of a thread comment on a random statement I make, I have hereby decided to scrape that idea. I shall stick to writing the way I earlier did except for there being other things which shall be talked about besides what’s happening in my life. ‘Other things’, here means, the pitiful state my dear country is in, my musical tastes and a few people who I can safely call my idols. The manner of writing shall piss you off to such an extent that you will happily resort to self abuse. Self abuse like listening to Taylor Swift for an hour continuously with the full backing of your brain and neurons. I, on the other hand shall spend that time watching ‘Fight Club’ and praise Edward Norton’s extraordinary acting skills in front of you to rub salt on your ‘Taylor’ made wounds. Haha! Enough of my feeble attempts at being funny. Oh, by the way this time I vaguely have an idea for the material of this post. A pathetically boring read is promised to you reader.
At the end of my last post I mentioned having a girlfriend (Poor girl, I know.) This young, pitiable lady has a slight obsession with nature, so I shall name her A-TREE! This name remarkably sounds a lot like her real name.
She is the very definition of a normal 16 year old school going girl. “My mum doesn’t let me go for parties. Waa! I WANT TO GO!”, “I love you, don’t ever leave me.”, “Those guys are so lucky, their parents are so cool.” and immature nonsense of that sort.
But, she’s sweet, can write a tiny bit, loves me (Or so she thinks), is faithful and is a little kid. Therefore, I love her (I’m capable of love).
I met her in the coaching classes I attend for the Pre-Medical Examinations I shall be giving in a year and a half’s time. I went there with a hope of being left alone and strong belief that the girl’s there wouldn’t be worth a second glance. So, when I went there, as planned, I looked stoned, wearing black with messy hair and sat down extremely sleepy. I sat on the second last bench with the wall for casual support. To my surprise and to that of the three girls sitting in the first bench peeking looks and giggling, there were decent people in a class whose majority was of Jats. Only one of those girls caught my eye and she ended up as the A-Tree on this blog and the person I love.
She’s unlike anything I’ve had before. I’ve thought that I was in love earlier with a variety of girls. Some who connected with me at a paranormal level, some who were snobs, and some who were just shameless bitches. Her father is in the Merchant Navy like my father and her mother is as pressing as mine, so we can say that we have the same kind of upbringing. We don’t share the same musical taste or the liking of authors or the cynicism I posses. But, nonetheless we gel quite well. I’m patient and she’s submissive.
No matter if I end up sounding like a stupid starry eyed kid, I really do hope I end up with her for a long long time.
Thank you for having read something that is of no help and is just useless information. The next post shall be about either Billie Joe Armstrong or Gerard Way, or it might be about Frank Iero. You'll get to read it if I make up my mind.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Owing to the disappointing response to my idea of a thread comment on a random statement I make, I have hereby decided to scrape that idea. I shall stick to writing the way I earlier did except for there being other things which shall be talked about besides what’s happening in my life. ‘Other things’, here means, the pitiful state my dear country is in, my musical tastes and a few people who I can safely call my idols. The manner of writing shall piss you off to such an extent that you will happily resort to self abuse. Self abuse like listening to Taylor Swift for an hour continuously with the full backing of your brain and neurons. I, on the other hand shall spend that time watching ‘Fight Club’ and praise Edward Norton’s extraordinary acting skills in front of you to rub salt on your ‘Taylor’ made wounds. Haha! Enough of my feeble attempts at being funny. Oh, by the way this time I vaguely have an idea for the material of this post. A pathetically boring read is promised to you reader.
At the end of my last post I mentioned having a girlfriend (Poor girl, I know.) This young, pitiable lady has a slight obsession with nature, so I shall name her A-TREE! This name remarkably sounds a lot like her real name.
She is the very definition of a normal 16 year old school going girl. “My mum doesn’t let me go for parties. Waa! I WANT TO GO!”, “I love you, don’t ever leave me.”, “Those guys are so lucky, their parents are so cool.” and immature nonsense of that sort.
But, she’s sweet, can write a tiny bit, loves me (Or so she thinks), is faithful and is a little kid. Therefore, I love her (I’m capable of love).
I met her in the coaching classes I attend for the Pre-Medical Examinations I shall be giving in a year and a half’s time. I went there with a hope of being left alone and strong belief that the girl’s there wouldn’t be worth a second glance. So, when I went there, as planned, I looked stoned, wearing black with messy hair and sat down extremely sleepy. I sat on the second last bench with the wall for casual support. To my surprise and to that of the three girls sitting in the first bench peeking looks and giggling, there were decent people in a class whose majority was of Jats. Only one of those girls caught my eye and she ended up as the A-Tree on this blog and the person I love.
She’s unlike anything I’ve had before. I’ve thought that I was in love earlier with a variety of girls. Some who connected with me at a paranormal level, some who were snobs, and some who were just shameless bitches. Her father is in the Merchant Navy like my father and her mother is as pressing as mine, so we can say that we have the same kind of upbringing. We don’t share the same musical taste or the liking of authors or the cynicism I posses. But, nonetheless we gel quite well. I’m patient and she’s submissive.
No matter if I end up sounding like a stupid starry eyed kid, I really do hope I end up with her for a long long time.
Thank you for having read something that is of no help and is just useless information. The next post shall be about either Billie Joe Armstrong or Gerard Way, or it might be about Frank Iero. You'll get to read it if I make up my mind.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Monday, August 24, 2009
Welcome Back EDI!
Dear Reader,
All of you, well almost all of you know me as Esh Dec In (EDI). You, I think, believe that I am in actual the same person. I’m not. In reality I am a 16 year old uncertified ex do-gooder who is now popular for being an uncontrollable dope by his family and friends. EDI had been dead for a while, letting Mr. ‘Oh! I’m so cool!’ take the driving seat. I assure whoever needs assuring that this hasn’t been good for either of us. EDI can’t write the way he did. And the other Mister doesn’t want to be cool or known anymore. BUT, who gives a shit!?
I haven’t been talking to anyone lately. I forgot who Dodger/Tranquil & Beatrice/Trillian were. But, I think that’s alright considering I forgot who I was as well. Violet is gone, yet I keep a little hope on her. Sugar and X have fucked off, and I’m quite happy. I talk to the rest, but the first three names are the only ones that I care enough about to mention. I kind of missed them unknowingly. I’ll try to make things the way they were with the first two and secretly hope for a better relationship with Violet.
For everything else, I’ll make up a plan on the way.
I’m not quite sure as to what I want to write about.
Well, how about this, I say something, like for instance “Religion is Bullshit!” Now whoever agrees or begs to differ shall comment. I shall argue or agree with you there.
For now, what I say is “Religion IS Bullshit!”
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
P.S. I have a girlfriend now.
All of you, well almost all of you know me as Esh Dec In (EDI). You, I think, believe that I am in actual the same person. I’m not. In reality I am a 16 year old uncertified ex do-gooder who is now popular for being an uncontrollable dope by his family and friends. EDI had been dead for a while, letting Mr. ‘Oh! I’m so cool!’ take the driving seat. I assure whoever needs assuring that this hasn’t been good for either of us. EDI can’t write the way he did. And the other Mister doesn’t want to be cool or known anymore. BUT, who gives a shit!?
I haven’t been talking to anyone lately. I forgot who Dodger/Tranquil & Beatrice/Trillian were. But, I think that’s alright considering I forgot who I was as well. Violet is gone, yet I keep a little hope on her. Sugar and X have fucked off, and I’m quite happy. I talk to the rest, but the first three names are the only ones that I care enough about to mention. I kind of missed them unknowingly. I’ll try to make things the way they were with the first two and secretly hope for a better relationship with Violet.
For everything else, I’ll make up a plan on the way.
I’m not quite sure as to what I want to write about.
Well, how about this, I say something, like for instance “Religion is Bullshit!” Now whoever agrees or begs to differ shall comment. I shall argue or agree with you there.
For now, what I say is “Religion IS Bullshit!”
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
P.S. I have a girlfriend now.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Hello Again!
Dear Reader,
A hello to you once more. I have decided to write again. Don't expect me to be as good/pathetic as I was earlier. I'm in a dazed state most of the time, therefore the poor quality of writing I'm promising you.
How have you all been? It's been a long time since I've talked or tried talking at all. I miss being read by people who don't give a flying fuck about the weird creature I am as long as I keep on writing bullshit.
I promise a post within the next three days if I get time off from studies and dope.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
A hello to you once more. I have decided to write again. Don't expect me to be as good/pathetic as I was earlier. I'm in a dazed state most of the time, therefore the poor quality of writing I'm promising you.
How have you all been? It's been a long time since I've talked or tried talking at all. I miss being read by people who don't give a flying fuck about the weird creature I am as long as I keep on writing bullshit.
I promise a post within the next three days if I get time off from studies and dope.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Monday, June 15, 2009
10 Albums, 10 Books.
Albums and books that influenced my life.
Books :
1. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. The best book of the series written by one of the most intelligent writers ever. Teaches you about life and how narrow minded we humans are and that too with humor everywhere.
2. Artemis Fowl(s) by Eoin Colfer. Looking for confidence? Read this. Amazing storyline.
3. A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket (Series). You think it's possible to laugh with an overload of irony, deaths, kidnappings and an evil man winning every time. Plus, it teaches you how everything isn't the way it seems.
4. Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkein. Fiction at it's best. Did you know this dude half our height can fight the greatest evil and resist greed better than people 3 times his height? It's all about mind over matter.
5. Chariots of the Gods by Eric Von Daniken. The first book I read by one of the greatest philosophical minds of the 20th century. Introduced me to the idea of how we don't question the existence of god and how we believe it just because we were told to. And presented his theory of how we were visited by aliens, who he thinks are the missing link between Homo Erectus and the present Homo Sapiens.
6. Gold of the Gods by Eric Von Daniken. His adventures and trips to all the mysterious places finally paid of. Proof to his theories.
7. Watchmen by Alan Moore. We can add graphic novels, right? If we can, this gets second position. The first book about real superheroes. A break from freak accidents and aliens and heroes who are hardly human. And The Comedian and Rorschach teach you more than you can imagine about life.
8. The Umbrella Academy by Gerard Way. Fantasy. Who else could have thought of a dysfunctional family of superheroes?
9. UFO & Alien Encounters (Compilation). Intriguing book. If you can read it, you for sure shall not be narrow minded for a long long time.
10. Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams. Just see who wrote it. That's reason enough.
Albums:
1. I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love by My Chemical Romance. Where two lovers both died when their hometown was overrun with vampires. And how the male was forced to kill his girl who he loved and how difficult it was for him to do it. Amazing music, the vocals are quite unconventional though. I doubt you liking them. A must hear for a lead guitarist and drummer.
2. American Idiot by Green Day. A running movie. A story with every song. About this punk, Jimmy, who thinks he's a saint and the Jesus of his little town. And how he's alone, and how he tries getting rid of the escapist way he lives. It ends with Jimmy dying after drug abuse and realizing how everything was unreal, a figment of his imagination, his alter ego (The Jesus of Suburbia), everything. Billy Joe really created a punk rock opera like he said he would.
3. Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge by My Chemical Romance. Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge is a concept album and continues the story from I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love where two lovers die in a gunfight in a desert. Three Cheers continues the story, detailing the struggle of a man to gain back his life and to join the woman he loves. In exchange for his life and to be reunited with his dead lover (albeit her returning to the world of the living), he must bring the souls of 1,000 evil men to the devil.
Contrary to rumors, Gerard has stated that they were never killed by vampires, but most fans of MCR speculate this because of the song "Vampires Will Never Hurt You". This song makes reference to social vampires who drain your life force, not actual vampires. Gerard claims this song is the one that "locked in that dark element."
The album starts off with Helena's funeral ("Helena"), and the male makes a pact with the devil, stating that if he can gather 1,000 souls of evil men, he will be with Helena again. He goes off to collect the souls ("Give 'Em Hell, Kid"), and makes it to a wedding party, where he takes the soul of the cheating, and possibly homosexual groom ("He's always looking at men"), and materialistic bride ("To The End"), then the souls of rapists and criminals ("You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison"), and a kid who goes on a shooting rampage at a high school ("I'm Not Okay (I Promise)"). He then starts to feel bad as his conscience gets to him coupled with the loss of his lover ("The Ghost Of You"). He starts feeling sick of what he's doing, and has doubts at whether or not he'll see his lover again ("Thank You For The Venom"). Finally, he pulls himself together, and pushes on no matter what ("Don't stop, if I fall, and don't look back"), even if it means not seeing Helena again ("Hang 'Em High"). The story comes to a close when he has gathered all the souls, and is reunited with Helena, but they are both killed since the male was the last evil man left ("I Never Told You What I Do For A Living").
4. From Under The Cork Tree by Fall Out Boy. Like Pete Wentz said, he's the C3PO of the band who comes up with seemingly meaningless lyrics which do make a lot of sense and how Patrick is R2D2 who makes the beautiful noises. Wentz is a lyrical genius and 2nd in my list of bassists after Mike Dirnt. Fall Out Boy combine the brash but melodic approach of the emo/punk scene with intelligent, thought-provoking and insightful lyric invention. With tales of trials and tribulations, friendships and fame, they wear their angst on their sleeves. The tunes are huge, and the riffs are addictive.
5. Lies for The Liars by The Used. "I met the most fake people I had ever come across on the whole planet,” Bert McCracken said. “They’re all just liars, and they’re so used to doing it, half the time I don’t think they even know they’re lying. Being in that environment had a direct effect on the tone of this new record, which is a little more vicious, but in a strange way, also more loving and caring.” The man couldn't have said it better. It covers celebrity indulgence and consumption, love, vulnerability and fakes.
6. The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. The Black Parade is a concept album centering around the character of "The Patient". It centers around his passage out of life and the memories he has of his life. "The Patient" dies and death comes for him in the form of a parade. The album also expresses Gerard Way's belief that death comes for a person in the form of their fondest memory.
7. 21st Century Breakdown by Green Day. 21st Century Breakdown continues the rock opera style of its predecessor American Idiot. The album is divided into three acts: "Heroes and Cons", "Charlatans and Saints", and "Horseshoes and Handgrenades". Its loose narrative follows a young couple named Christian and Gloria through life in the United States following the presidency of George W. Bush, as they "deal with the mess our 43rd president left behind" and "spin their wheels and fight their way through a new century already going terribly wrong."
8. The Great Burrito Extortion Case by Bowling for Soup. A band that's never going to be Blink 182. Never as big as Green Day. Still, it's a combination of both. Meaningful lyrics put in a way that you can't help but laugh. Songs about how the world is obsessed with whose the best dressed, or how useless gossip is something we've become addicted to. As always, the band takes a not so serious look at emotions, society, and friendships and is delivered in a style that any person who doesn't mind punk would fall in love with.
9. (What's the Story) Morning Glory? by Oasis. It's an album by Oasis. Everyone knows of it. Everyone's heard Wonderwall. Then there's Kabir who shares the same passion for the band as I do. The whole I don't care, if you don't care feel comes when the band does anything. See some interviews you'd understand. The best thing from Britain since The Beatles.
10. Favorite Worst Nightmare by Arctic Monkeys. Balaclava. This House Is A Circus. Fluorescent Adolescent. D is for Dangerous. Listen to these songs. And you'll know why this album is on the list.
Books :
1. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. The best book of the series written by one of the most intelligent writers ever. Teaches you about life and how narrow minded we humans are and that too with humor everywhere.
2. Artemis Fowl(s) by Eoin Colfer. Looking for confidence? Read this. Amazing storyline.
3. A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket (Series). You think it's possible to laugh with an overload of irony, deaths, kidnappings and an evil man winning every time. Plus, it teaches you how everything isn't the way it seems.
4. Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkein. Fiction at it's best. Did you know this dude half our height can fight the greatest evil and resist greed better than people 3 times his height? It's all about mind over matter.
5. Chariots of the Gods by Eric Von Daniken. The first book I read by one of the greatest philosophical minds of the 20th century. Introduced me to the idea of how we don't question the existence of god and how we believe it just because we were told to. And presented his theory of how we were visited by aliens, who he thinks are the missing link between Homo Erectus and the present Homo Sapiens.
6. Gold of the Gods by Eric Von Daniken. His adventures and trips to all the mysterious places finally paid of. Proof to his theories.
7. Watchmen by Alan Moore. We can add graphic novels, right? If we can, this gets second position. The first book about real superheroes. A break from freak accidents and aliens and heroes who are hardly human. And The Comedian and Rorschach teach you more than you can imagine about life.
8. The Umbrella Academy by Gerard Way. Fantasy. Who else could have thought of a dysfunctional family of superheroes?
9. UFO & Alien Encounters (Compilation). Intriguing book. If you can read it, you for sure shall not be narrow minded for a long long time.
10. Mostly Harmless by Douglas Adams. Just see who wrote it. That's reason enough.
Albums:
1. I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love by My Chemical Romance. Where two lovers both died when their hometown was overrun with vampires. And how the male was forced to kill his girl who he loved and how difficult it was for him to do it. Amazing music, the vocals are quite unconventional though. I doubt you liking them. A must hear for a lead guitarist and drummer.
2. American Idiot by Green Day. A running movie. A story with every song. About this punk, Jimmy, who thinks he's a saint and the Jesus of his little town. And how he's alone, and how he tries getting rid of the escapist way he lives. It ends with Jimmy dying after drug abuse and realizing how everything was unreal, a figment of his imagination, his alter ego (The Jesus of Suburbia), everything. Billy Joe really created a punk rock opera like he said he would.
3. Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge by My Chemical Romance. Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge is a concept album and continues the story from I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love where two lovers die in a gunfight in a desert. Three Cheers continues the story, detailing the struggle of a man to gain back his life and to join the woman he loves. In exchange for his life and to be reunited with his dead lover (albeit her returning to the world of the living), he must bring the souls of 1,000 evil men to the devil.
Contrary to rumors, Gerard has stated that they were never killed by vampires, but most fans of MCR speculate this because of the song "Vampires Will Never Hurt You". This song makes reference to social vampires who drain your life force, not actual vampires. Gerard claims this song is the one that "locked in that dark element."
The album starts off with Helena's funeral ("Helena"), and the male makes a pact with the devil, stating that if he can gather 1,000 souls of evil men, he will be with Helena again. He goes off to collect the souls ("Give 'Em Hell, Kid"), and makes it to a wedding party, where he takes the soul of the cheating, and possibly homosexual groom ("He's always looking at men"), and materialistic bride ("To The End"), then the souls of rapists and criminals ("You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison"), and a kid who goes on a shooting rampage at a high school ("I'm Not Okay (I Promise)"). He then starts to feel bad as his conscience gets to him coupled with the loss of his lover ("The Ghost Of You"). He starts feeling sick of what he's doing, and has doubts at whether or not he'll see his lover again ("Thank You For The Venom"). Finally, he pulls himself together, and pushes on no matter what ("Don't stop, if I fall, and don't look back"), even if it means not seeing Helena again ("Hang 'Em High"). The story comes to a close when he has gathered all the souls, and is reunited with Helena, but they are both killed since the male was the last evil man left ("I Never Told You What I Do For A Living").
4. From Under The Cork Tree by Fall Out Boy. Like Pete Wentz said, he's the C3PO of the band who comes up with seemingly meaningless lyrics which do make a lot of sense and how Patrick is R2D2 who makes the beautiful noises. Wentz is a lyrical genius and 2nd in my list of bassists after Mike Dirnt. Fall Out Boy combine the brash but melodic approach of the emo/punk scene with intelligent, thought-provoking and insightful lyric invention. With tales of trials and tribulations, friendships and fame, they wear their angst on their sleeves. The tunes are huge, and the riffs are addictive.
5. Lies for The Liars by The Used. "I met the most fake people I had ever come across on the whole planet,” Bert McCracken said. “They’re all just liars, and they’re so used to doing it, half the time I don’t think they even know they’re lying. Being in that environment had a direct effect on the tone of this new record, which is a little more vicious, but in a strange way, also more loving and caring.” The man couldn't have said it better. It covers celebrity indulgence and consumption, love, vulnerability and fakes.
6. The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. The Black Parade is a concept album centering around the character of "The Patient". It centers around his passage out of life and the memories he has of his life. "The Patient" dies and death comes for him in the form of a parade. The album also expresses Gerard Way's belief that death comes for a person in the form of their fondest memory.
7. 21st Century Breakdown by Green Day. 21st Century Breakdown continues the rock opera style of its predecessor American Idiot. The album is divided into three acts: "Heroes and Cons", "Charlatans and Saints", and "Horseshoes and Handgrenades". Its loose narrative follows a young couple named Christian and Gloria through life in the United States following the presidency of George W. Bush, as they "deal with the mess our 43rd president left behind" and "spin their wheels and fight their way through a new century already going terribly wrong."
8. The Great Burrito Extortion Case by Bowling for Soup. A band that's never going to be Blink 182. Never as big as Green Day. Still, it's a combination of both. Meaningful lyrics put in a way that you can't help but laugh. Songs about how the world is obsessed with whose the best dressed, or how useless gossip is something we've become addicted to. As always, the band takes a not so serious look at emotions, society, and friendships and is delivered in a style that any person who doesn't mind punk would fall in love with.
9. (What's the Story) Morning Glory? by Oasis. It's an album by Oasis. Everyone knows of it. Everyone's heard Wonderwall. Then there's Kabir who shares the same passion for the band as I do. The whole I don't care, if you don't care feel comes when the band does anything. See some interviews you'd understand. The best thing from Britain since The Beatles.
10. Favorite Worst Nightmare by Arctic Monkeys. Balaclava. This House Is A Circus. Fluorescent Adolescent. D is for Dangerous. Listen to these songs. And you'll know why this album is on the list.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Thank You So Much!
Dear Reader,
I miss Violet. I miss Beatrice being my female form, but I guess I’ve changed. Sugar is just weird these days. X is stupid and irritating. Klaus, I don’t know where he’s at. Tranquil is still the coolest person I know, even though we don’t get to talk much. Edge, from Trillians blog is an amazing kid. About the rest? I don’t care.
Now to what this post is really about.
I want to thank all of my effing countrymen for getting a government of pussies back to power once again. I thank you for giving then a swell head by making them win by such a margin. Thank you, as they are now going to do as they wish without fear of any opposition. Thank you for making a puppet Prime Minister whose strings are pulled by a lady who I find difficult to call an Indian.
I’d like to ask what you saw in a government who after being attacked and humiliated by just 10 Pakis with evident aid of Pakistani military, just threw a few words here and there and then cooled down. What happened to the action that was promised? I think the fear of what the rest of the world would think of the action stopped them. It was an attacked on OUR country! Why care what they think? Anyway, if they were in our place they’d have Pakistan begging for mercy. Take the example of the US with Afghanistan and Iraq. Or of Palestine with a country as tiny as Israel. What happens now ought to be a known fact. We shall become a lapdog to the USA. But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? We all love that country more than our own already, don’t we?
The government. Ah! What a wonderful one this is. A government which let a convicted terrorist live after a verdict. Why? They feared a collapse in their vote bank of Muslims. A government which hogs all the credit for brainchildren of their predecessor. i.e. - The Golden Quadrilateral project, the Delhi Metro.
What’s the strongest argument against their predecessor? That they let a terrorist walk free in exchange for 400 lives?! What should they have done? Let those civilians be killed? It’s still better than being attacked in an important metropolitan and have close to 500 people killed.
The next argument would be that their views are based on Hindu culture too much. Let me tell you something. Hinduism is the most tolerant and compatible way of living. Plus, it was never a religion in the first place. It is now because we’ve wrongly made it one. Therefore, I see no religious divides in the Hindutva policies. And before you presume what Hindutva is, go read about it.
The NDA is undoubtedly a lot bolder and sterner that the UPA. They conducted the first ever nuclear test which caused unrest in Pakistan. Their response? Stationing the armed forces at the border to shut them up. Next, a few terrorists along with the Pakistani military infiltrate our border and station themselves on Indian soil slyly. To this, they declared war.
I doubt the self conscious UPA to have done this because they would have cared too much about what the US would say to this.
The result would have been, Kashmir in Pakistani hands and a full fledged nuclear war as our neighbors would have got plenty of time to plan an attack.
It was better off when the youth thought that they’re too cool to vote. Even though the percentage of voters was comparatively less, at least the people who voted cast their votes with calculation.
What do we have now?
People voting for the Congress because their famous leaders are young, the girls find them cute or they speak fast English.
Ah! That’s some ‘Youngistan’.
I thank you once again for helping aggravate the already pitiful state my country is in.
With all due fucking respect,
Esh Dec In
I miss Violet. I miss Beatrice being my female form, but I guess I’ve changed. Sugar is just weird these days. X is stupid and irritating. Klaus, I don’t know where he’s at. Tranquil is still the coolest person I know, even though we don’t get to talk much. Edge, from Trillians blog is an amazing kid. About the rest? I don’t care.
Now to what this post is really about.
I want to thank all of my effing countrymen for getting a government of pussies back to power once again. I thank you for giving then a swell head by making them win by such a margin. Thank you, as they are now going to do as they wish without fear of any opposition. Thank you for making a puppet Prime Minister whose strings are pulled by a lady who I find difficult to call an Indian.
I’d like to ask what you saw in a government who after being attacked and humiliated by just 10 Pakis with evident aid of Pakistani military, just threw a few words here and there and then cooled down. What happened to the action that was promised? I think the fear of what the rest of the world would think of the action stopped them. It was an attacked on OUR country! Why care what they think? Anyway, if they were in our place they’d have Pakistan begging for mercy. Take the example of the US with Afghanistan and Iraq. Or of Palestine with a country as tiny as Israel. What happens now ought to be a known fact. We shall become a lapdog to the USA. But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? We all love that country more than our own already, don’t we?
The government. Ah! What a wonderful one this is. A government which let a convicted terrorist live after a verdict. Why? They feared a collapse in their vote bank of Muslims. A government which hogs all the credit for brainchildren of their predecessor. i.e. - The Golden Quadrilateral project, the Delhi Metro.
What’s the strongest argument against their predecessor? That they let a terrorist walk free in exchange for 400 lives?! What should they have done? Let those civilians be killed? It’s still better than being attacked in an important metropolitan and have close to 500 people killed.
The next argument would be that their views are based on Hindu culture too much. Let me tell you something. Hinduism is the most tolerant and compatible way of living. Plus, it was never a religion in the first place. It is now because we’ve wrongly made it one. Therefore, I see no religious divides in the Hindutva policies. And before you presume what Hindutva is, go read about it.
The NDA is undoubtedly a lot bolder and sterner that the UPA. They conducted the first ever nuclear test which caused unrest in Pakistan. Their response? Stationing the armed forces at the border to shut them up. Next, a few terrorists along with the Pakistani military infiltrate our border and station themselves on Indian soil slyly. To this, they declared war.
I doubt the self conscious UPA to have done this because they would have cared too much about what the US would say to this.
The result would have been, Kashmir in Pakistani hands and a full fledged nuclear war as our neighbors would have got plenty of time to plan an attack.
It was better off when the youth thought that they’re too cool to vote. Even though the percentage of voters was comparatively less, at least the people who voted cast their votes with calculation.
What do we have now?
People voting for the Congress because their famous leaders are young, the girls find them cute or they speak fast English.
Ah! That’s some ‘Youngistan’.
I thank you once again for helping aggravate the already pitiful state my country is in.
With all due fucking respect,
Esh Dec In
Saturday, May 2, 2009
I Need No Title.
Dear Reader,
Sorry for not being true to my word. I am writing again, not with a heavy heart, I assure you. I decided that writing is indeed a wonderful way of venting out my thoughts. Especially, when no one knows who I am. I’d be scoffed in my friend circle for all this.
If Leonardo Da Vinci and Albert Einstein were alive today, they would undoubtedly say this – “The irony is thick, war is a beastly thing we abhor, yet our minds turn constantly to its constructs.” Here is what I’d like to tell them. Your work would actually hasten the end of war. That springs from your humanity. I see no irony in your desire for peace.
Now where did that come from, you may ask? I learn from comics/graphic novels. Everyone would say and ignore comics because they have incorrect English. What do you expect from a generation whose knowledge of comics is restricted to the pathetic Archies.
Everyone thinks they are too intelligent for all their peers. ‘Everyone’ here means the age group between 15 and 25. Younger than that are allowed to live dumb and be unaware. The intelligence I was referring to stops at stupid things such as sex, who is rich, who gets to drive underage, how much alcohol you can consume before lying flat on your back and how much you know about your music. Anyone oblivious to such things is either a nerd or someone who thinks he’s too cool to care. This is what these people would call us. But, are these actually the things you want fill up the limited percentage of our brains we humans can use? Great men die, imparting their worldly wisdom and we hate them because they are material in our textbooks.
We live in a dark and violent world with treachery the most prominent feature of it. Everything we think we know is based on blind beliefs. i.e. – God, religion and how to live your life.
Who set these rules? Things we haven’t even sat and thought about. Things you would be unsure of if you actually mused over them. But, no, our life is all about ‘scoring’, we have our shortcuts (alcohol & drugs) waiting for us.
We don’t want to know what to do with our life and couldn’t care less about it. We think we’ll live it just as it comes.
Now what would people say if I wanted to change this? “Join the system, go there, make an impact.”
Truth be told, the world is already hopelessly lost. From a time where thinkers were as common as mice to a time where thinkers and thinking is as rare as the Tasmanian Devil.
Keeping up with me?
The world has a cancer. A cancer that cannot be cured. It can be put at bay, but it shall always come back. The least we can do is be the world’s chemotherapy. Delay the doom.
How?
Think. Question. Fight.
It’s easy. Take time off petty things which race in your mind almost always. Sit down alone and think of everything you’ve ever believed in. Then, question everything that came to your mind. And then, fight it. Fight it in the form of arguments with your elders or with whoever you think would make you think. Start with this and it’ll all come along.
Sorry for being the most boring 16 year old in the world with no life at all. I’m above you yet.
With all due respect (none),
Esh Dec In
Sorry for not being true to my word. I am writing again, not with a heavy heart, I assure you. I decided that writing is indeed a wonderful way of venting out my thoughts. Especially, when no one knows who I am. I’d be scoffed in my friend circle for all this.
If Leonardo Da Vinci and Albert Einstein were alive today, they would undoubtedly say this – “The irony is thick, war is a beastly thing we abhor, yet our minds turn constantly to its constructs.” Here is what I’d like to tell them. Your work would actually hasten the end of war. That springs from your humanity. I see no irony in your desire for peace.
Now where did that come from, you may ask? I learn from comics/graphic novels. Everyone would say and ignore comics because they have incorrect English. What do you expect from a generation whose knowledge of comics is restricted to the pathetic Archies.
Everyone thinks they are too intelligent for all their peers. ‘Everyone’ here means the age group between 15 and 25. Younger than that are allowed to live dumb and be unaware. The intelligence I was referring to stops at stupid things such as sex, who is rich, who gets to drive underage, how much alcohol you can consume before lying flat on your back and how much you know about your music. Anyone oblivious to such things is either a nerd or someone who thinks he’s too cool to care. This is what these people would call us. But, are these actually the things you want fill up the limited percentage of our brains we humans can use? Great men die, imparting their worldly wisdom and we hate them because they are material in our textbooks.
We live in a dark and violent world with treachery the most prominent feature of it. Everything we think we know is based on blind beliefs. i.e. – God, religion and how to live your life.
Who set these rules? Things we haven’t even sat and thought about. Things you would be unsure of if you actually mused over them. But, no, our life is all about ‘scoring’, we have our shortcuts (alcohol & drugs) waiting for us.
We don’t want to know what to do with our life and couldn’t care less about it. We think we’ll live it just as it comes.
Now what would people say if I wanted to change this? “Join the system, go there, make an impact.”
Truth be told, the world is already hopelessly lost. From a time where thinkers were as common as mice to a time where thinkers and thinking is as rare as the Tasmanian Devil.
Keeping up with me?
The world has a cancer. A cancer that cannot be cured. It can be put at bay, but it shall always come back. The least we can do is be the world’s chemotherapy. Delay the doom.
How?
Think. Question. Fight.
It’s easy. Take time off petty things which race in your mind almost always. Sit down alone and think of everything you’ve ever believed in. Then, question everything that came to your mind. And then, fight it. Fight it in the form of arguments with your elders or with whoever you think would make you think. Start with this and it’ll all come along.
Sorry for being the most boring 16 year old in the world with no life at all. I’m above you yet.
With all due respect (none),
Esh Dec In
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Father & Son : A letter.
I wrote a letter to my father. No, more of a note, really. He commented on the paper at various places with his bit in the end. I liked it and thought it was worthy enough of being here. The Italic part is what my dad wrote, the rest is mine.
You asked a plan of me for what I would like to do with the next two and final years of my schooling.
Here is a brief overview of what I have thought.
You’ve taught me to make my decisions and then live with them. You have also said that the best thing you could give out is your advice. That advice is what I want on the following plans I’ve made.
Great pitch! You have me listening.
I today resigned from the football, hockey and athletics teams in school. I have told the Captain’s of the respective sports and the sports in-charge that I shall not let sports compromise with my studies. I am telling this useless fact to you as I suspect that you shall muse that I weakly might have blamed it on my parents not allowing.
I’d say a great move. You need to believe too.
I have studied enough till tonight to get a 25% scholarship for the Institutes entrance exam to be held on Sunday, In the 3 days I have, I believe that I’ll be able to make it to the 40% rung. I concede that 50% or 60% would be beyond me looking at my previous exam results and the short span of time given to me to prepare.
So! You believe……now prove
I do not want to give this exam, though. I would like to sit for the SAT I and SAT II examinations this year. I know that you’d want a reason for me making this move.
Right! Just do it. Choose later.
If I join the Institute this year it will be mentally and physically impossible for me to cope with school work, the studies at the institute and prepare for the SAT.
Don’t feel weak or undermine yourself. You have the strength if you have the will. Others do it & you are better than others! Believe it and do it!
I would reach home at 3pm and will have to be at the classes between 4pm and 9pm, 4 days a week. It is important for me to get a good score in the SAT as the score is taken in consideration for the admission and scholarship. If I give this exam while preparing for the PMT and the school work I will not be able to get a worthwhile score. This would mean that my preparation for the SAT would be fruitless and it at the same time would compromise with my other studies.
I would rather join the one year program next year.
Of all the blogs and sites I have browsed through, all ex-PMT examinees claim that the course is 50% of the year 11 NCERT book. This would make it necessary for me to understand, perform and not take studies lightly this year.
Sites & Blogs from those on a weak wicket. Not those who’ve made it.
If I were to join the Institute this year, then my tuitions for the subjects would be there only. Having attended group tuition earlier I know for a fact that a private home tutor is a much better option. This is because it is easier to pose questions without the risk of embarrassment, understand well and have the teacher’s undivided attention. Considering all these facts, I have aimed for a minimum 65% result in all school examinations.
Agreed! But get over embarrassment; learn from other students besides one sole tutor.
The plan:
• Sit for the SATs this year.
• 65% in school examinations at the least.
• A minimum 40% scholarship for the institute next year.
Doubts will always be an enemy. Rise above known strengths, above perceived limitations, above commonly stood for understandings.
You’ve followed Superman, Lord of the Rings, that My Chemical Romance boy! Not just nonsensical fantasies – where they become more than just an impossible fairy tale or true tale. They are motivators for young minds. They give hope for the impossible.
Aim for the stars, work to attain them, and for sure, you will surpass all others by reaching the moon.
Do not use your weaknesses as an excuse – review them so as to overcome them.
You can! You can study at the Institute and do the SAT. You must see it as an opportunity not as an exercise.
You can learn to be kind and do! Not just be perceived to be.
You can adapt change just so to see if a difference is worth it. Not simply deny.
You can, because you are young and because you have elders who care.
You cannot like me, when you have to care and provide. Your choices and options will only get limited with responsibilities.
So far, your responsibilities are limited to allow you to choose where to excel. Realize and train to broaden your scope, your bandwidth, your stretch – so you can choose. Push hard – yourself – and be proud how high, how far and how deep you can go.
Find, reach and excel your own limitations. Surpass these boundaries you set yourself.
Yes, moments of doubts!
Many moments of wondering your very meaning! All moments towards maturity and personal growth.
I am glad you expressed yourself. A sign of sharing and a willingness to assimilate and learn.
You are my son, you will analyze possible defeats, plan to pre-empt, and act on it – in the process, you will learn you are better than all else! And you may still fail – you will never be comfortable with losing – but you will relish knowing you did the best possible for the moment (and still wonder if you could have pushed yourself more).
Take adversity as a challenge, not as a reason to back out.
P.S. – Your sister respects you! Continue to do what you do.
You asked a plan of me for what I would like to do with the next two and final years of my schooling.
Here is a brief overview of what I have thought.
You’ve taught me to make my decisions and then live with them. You have also said that the best thing you could give out is your advice. That advice is what I want on the following plans I’ve made.
Great pitch! You have me listening.
I today resigned from the football, hockey and athletics teams in school. I have told the Captain’s of the respective sports and the sports in-charge that I shall not let sports compromise with my studies. I am telling this useless fact to you as I suspect that you shall muse that I weakly might have blamed it on my parents not allowing.
I’d say a great move. You need to believe too.
I have studied enough till tonight to get a 25% scholarship for the Institutes entrance exam to be held on Sunday, In the 3 days I have, I believe that I’ll be able to make it to the 40% rung. I concede that 50% or 60% would be beyond me looking at my previous exam results and the short span of time given to me to prepare.
So! You believe……now prove
I do not want to give this exam, though. I would like to sit for the SAT I and SAT II examinations this year. I know that you’d want a reason for me making this move.
Right! Just do it. Choose later.
If I join the Institute this year it will be mentally and physically impossible for me to cope with school work, the studies at the institute and prepare for the SAT.
Don’t feel weak or undermine yourself. You have the strength if you have the will. Others do it & you are better than others! Believe it and do it!
I would reach home at 3pm and will have to be at the classes between 4pm and 9pm, 4 days a week. It is important for me to get a good score in the SAT as the score is taken in consideration for the admission and scholarship. If I give this exam while preparing for the PMT and the school work I will not be able to get a worthwhile score. This would mean that my preparation for the SAT would be fruitless and it at the same time would compromise with my other studies.
I would rather join the one year program next year.
Of all the blogs and sites I have browsed through, all ex-PMT examinees claim that the course is 50% of the year 11 NCERT book. This would make it necessary for me to understand, perform and not take studies lightly this year.
Sites & Blogs from those on a weak wicket. Not those who’ve made it.
If I were to join the Institute this year, then my tuitions for the subjects would be there only. Having attended group tuition earlier I know for a fact that a private home tutor is a much better option. This is because it is easier to pose questions without the risk of embarrassment, understand well and have the teacher’s undivided attention. Considering all these facts, I have aimed for a minimum 65% result in all school examinations.
Agreed! But get over embarrassment; learn from other students besides one sole tutor.
The plan:
• Sit for the SATs this year.
• 65% in school examinations at the least.
• A minimum 40% scholarship for the institute next year.
Doubts will always be an enemy. Rise above known strengths, above perceived limitations, above commonly stood for understandings.
You’ve followed Superman, Lord of the Rings, that My Chemical Romance boy! Not just nonsensical fantasies – where they become more than just an impossible fairy tale or true tale. They are motivators for young minds. They give hope for the impossible.
Aim for the stars, work to attain them, and for sure, you will surpass all others by reaching the moon.
Do not use your weaknesses as an excuse – review them so as to overcome them.
You can! You can study at the Institute and do the SAT. You must see it as an opportunity not as an exercise.
You can learn to be kind and do! Not just be perceived to be.
You can adapt change just so to see if a difference is worth it. Not simply deny.
You can, because you are young and because you have elders who care.
You cannot like me, when you have to care and provide. Your choices and options will only get limited with responsibilities.
So far, your responsibilities are limited to allow you to choose where to excel. Realize and train to broaden your scope, your bandwidth, your stretch – so you can choose. Push hard – yourself – and be proud how high, how far and how deep you can go.
Find, reach and excel your own limitations. Surpass these boundaries you set yourself.
Yes, moments of doubts!
Many moments of wondering your very meaning! All moments towards maturity and personal growth.
I am glad you expressed yourself. A sign of sharing and a willingness to assimilate and learn.
You are my son, you will analyze possible defeats, plan to pre-empt, and act on it – in the process, you will learn you are better than all else! And you may still fail – you will never be comfortable with losing – but you will relish knowing you did the best possible for the moment (and still wonder if you could have pushed yourself more).
Take adversity as a challenge, not as a reason to back out.
P.S. – Your sister respects you! Continue to do what you do.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
What A Goodbye Post Should Be.
Dear Reader,
The last post was too long for you too read for a goodbye post. So I decided to write a very short one here. I assure you that this is orignal beyond doubt. I thought it up while trying to talk to Violet.
Sparks are ...sparks. They are beautiful. But that is not what they are supposed to be. Their main purpose is to light a fire. But they sometimes do or they don't. Sadly, for the 2 followers I had, the spark failed in lighting a fire. Please forgive me for being so weak willed.
So long and goodnight to you Sia and Trillian.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
A Few Reasons Why Lemony Snicket is Lemony Snicket.
For Beatrice (From Lemony Snicket. His Beatrice not mine):-
I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table.
I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture.
I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms.
I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see.
To Beatrice - darling, dearest, dead.
For Beatrice--My love for you shall live forever. You, however, did not.
For Beatrice--I would much prefer it if you were alive and well.
To Beatrice--My love flew like a butterfly, Until death swooped down like a bat, As the poet Emma Montana EcElroy said: "That's the end of that."
For Beatrice--You will always be in my heart, in my mind, and in your grave.
For Beatrice--When we met, my life began. Soon afterwards, yours ended.
For Beatrice--When we were together I felt breathless. Now, you are.
For Beatrice--Summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you is even colder.
For Beatrice--When we met, you were pretty, and I was lonely. Now, I'm pretty lonely.
For Beatrice--No one could extinguish my love, or your house.
Some more :-
When someone is a little bit wrong — say, when a waiter puts nonfat milk in your espresso macchiato, instead of lowfat milk — it is often quite easy to explain to them how and why they are wrong. But if someone is surpassingly wrong — say, when a waiter bites your nose instead of taking your order--you can often be so surprised that you are unable to say anything at all. Paralyzed by how wrong the waiter is, your mouth would hang slightly open and your eyes would blink over and over, but you would be unable to say a word.
When you were very small, perhaps someone read to you the insipid story — the word insipid here means not worth reading to someone — of the Boy Who Cried Wolf. A very dull boy, you may remember, cried Wolf! when there was no wolf, and the gullible villagers ran to rescue him only to find the whole thing was a joke. Then he cried Wolf! when it wasn't a joke, and the villagers didn't come running, and the boy was eaten and the story, thank goodness, was over. The story's moral, of course, ought to be Never live somewhere where wolves are running around loose, but whoever read you the story probably told you that the moral was not to lie. This is an absurd moral, for you and I both know that sometimes not only is it good to lie, it is necessary to lie. For example, it was perfectly appropriate, after Violet left the Reptile Room, for Sunny to crawl over to the cage that held the Incredibly Deadly Viper, unlatch the cage, and begin screaming as loudly as she could even though nothing was really wrong. There is another story concerning wolves that somebody has probably read to you, which is just as absurd. I am talking about Little Red Riding Hood, an extremely unpleasant little girl who, like the Boy Who Cried Wolf, insisted on intruding on the territory of dangerous animals. You will recall that the wolf, after being treated very rudely by Little Red Riding Hood, ate the little girl's grandmother and put on her clothing as a disguise. It is this aspect of the story that is the most ridiculous, because one would think that even a girl as dim-witted as Little Red Riding hood could tell in an instant the difference between her grandmother and a wolf dressed in a nightgown and fuzzy slippers. If you know somebody very well, like your grandmother or your baby sister, you will know when they are real and when they are fake. This is why as Sunny began to scream, Violet and Klaus could tell immediately tell that her scream was absolutely fake.
We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.
It is very unnerving to be proven wrong, particularly when you are really right and the person who is really wrong is the one who is proving you wrong and proving himself, wrongly, right. Right?
Oftentimes, when people are miserable, they will want to make other people miserable, too. But it never helps.
Stealing, of course, is a crime, and a very impolite thing to do. But like most impolite things, it is excusable under certain circumstances. Stealing is not excusable if, for instance, you are in a museum and you decide that a certain painting would look better in your house, and you simply grab the painting and take it there. But if you were very, very hungry, and you had no way of obtaining money, it might be excusable to grab the painting, take it to your house, and eat it.
There are two kinds of fears: rational and irrational- or, in simpler terms, fears that make sense and fears that don't. For instance, the Baudelaire orphans have a fear of Count Olaf, which makes perfect sense, because he is an evil man who wants to destroy them. But if they were afraid of lemon meringue pie, this would be an irrational fear, because lemon meringue pie is delicious and would never hurt a soul. Being afraid of a monster under the bed is perfectly rational, because there may in fact be a monster under your bed at any time, ready to eat you all up, but a fear of realtors is an irrational fear. Realtors, as I'm sure you know, are people who assist in the buying and selling of houses. Besides occasionally wearing an ugly yellow coat, the worst a realtor can do to you is show you a house that you find ugly, so it is completely irrational to be terrified of them.
I’m sure you have heard it said that appearance does not matter so much, and that it is what's on the inside that counts. This is, of course, utter nonsense, because if it were true then people who were good on the inside would never have to comb their hair or take a bath, and the whole world would smell even worse than it aleady does.
The moral of 'The Three Bears,' for instance, is 'Never break into someone else's house." The moral of "Snow White" is "Never eat apples." The moral of World War One is "Never assassinate Archduke Ferdinand."
Shyness is a very curious thing, because, like quicksand, it can strike people are any time, and also, like quicksand, it usually makes its victims look down.
The expression "Making a mountain out of a molehill" simply means making a big deal out of something that is actually a small deal, and it is easy to see how this expression came about. Molehills are simply mounds of earth serving as condominiums for moles, and they have never caused anyone harm except for maybe a stubbed toe if you were walking around the wilderness without any shoes on. Mountains, however, are very large mounds of earth and are constantly causing problems. They are very tall, and when people try to climb them they often fall off, or get lost and die of starvation. Sometimes, two countries fight over who really owns a mountain, and thousands of people have to go to war and come home grumpy or wounded. And, of course, mountains serve as homes to mountain goats and mountain lions, who enjoy attacking helpless picnickers and eating sandwiches or children. So when someone is making a mountain out of a molehill, they are pretending that something is as horrible as a war or a ruined picnic when it is really only as horrible as a stubbed toe.
Assumptions are dangerous things to make, and like all dangerous things to make--bombs for instance, or strawberry shortcake--if you make even the tiniest mistake you can find yourself in terrible trouble. Making assumptions simply means believing things are a certain way with little or no evidence that shows you are correct, and you can see how this can lead to terrible trouble. For instance, one morning you might wake up and make the assumption that your bed was in the same place that it always was, even though you would have no real evidence that this was so. But when you got out of your bed, you might discover that it has floated out to sea, and now you would be in terrible trouble all because of the incorrect assumption that you'd made. You can see that it is better not to make too many assumptions, particularly in the morning.
f you were to take a plastic bag and place it inside a large bowl, you could use the expression 'a mixed bag' to describe what you had in front of you, but you would not be using the expression in the same way I am about to use it now. Although 'a mixed bag' sometimes refers to a plastic bag that has been stirred in a bowl, more often, it is used to describe a situation that has both good parts and bad parts. An afternoon movie theater, for example, would be a mixed bag if your favorite movie were showing, but if you had to eat gravel instead of popcorn. A trip to the zoo would be a very mixed bag if the weather were beautiful, but all the man and woman-eating lions were running around loose.
Just about everything in this world is easier said than done, with the exception of ‘systematically assisting Sisyphus’s stealthy, syst-susceptible sister,’ which is easier done than said.
When you traveling by bus, it is always difficult to decide whether you should sit in a seat by the window, a seat on the aisle, or a seat in the middle. If you take an aisle seat, you have the advantage of being able to stretch your legs whenever you like, but you have the disadvantage of people walking by you, and they can accidentally step on your toes or spill something on your clothing. If you take a window seat, you have the advantage of getting a clear view of the scenery, but you have the disadvantage of watching insects die was they hit the glass. If you take the middle seat, you have neither of these advantages, and you have the added disadvantage of people leaning all over you when they fall asleep. You can see at once why you should always hire a limousine or rent a mule rather than take the bus to your destination.
Entertaining a notion, like entertaining a baby cousin or entertaining a pack of hyenas, is a dangerous thing to refuse to do. If you refuse to entertain a baby cousin, the baby cousin may get bored and entertain itself by wandering off and falling down a well. If you refuse to entertain a pack of hyenas, they may become restless and entertain themselves by devouring you. But if you refuse to entertain a notion--which is just a fancy way of saying that you refuse to think about a certain idea--you have to be much braver than someone who is merely facing some bloodthirsty animals, or some parents who are upset and find their little darling at the bottom of a well, because nobody knows what an idea will do when it goes off to entertain itself, particularly if the idea comes from a sinister villain.
A cloud of dust is not a beautiful thing to look at. Very few painters have done portraits of huge clouds of dust or included them in their landscapes or still lifes. Film directors rarely choose huge clouds of dust to play the lead roles in romantic comedies, and as far as my research has shown, a huge cloud of dust has never placed higher than twenty-fifth in a beauty pageant
If you are like most people, you have an assortment of friends and family you can call upon in times of trouble. For instance, if you woke up in the middle of the night and saw a masked woman trying to crawl through your bedroom window, you might call your mother or father to help you push her back out. If you found yourself hopelessly lost in the middle of a strange city, you might ask the police to give you a ride home. And if you were an author locked in an Italian restaurant that was slowly filling up with water, you might call upon your acquaintances in the locksmith, pasta, and sponge businesses to come and rescue you.
Of all the ridiculous expressions people use--and people use a great many ridiculous expressions--one of the most ridiculous is "No news is good news." "No news is good news" simply means that if you don't hear from someone, everything is probably fine, and you can see at once why this expression makes such little sense, because everything being fine is only one of many, many reasons why someone may not contact you. Perhaps they are tied up. Maybe they are surrounded by fierce weasels, or perhaps they are wedged tightly between two refrigerators and cannot get themselves out. The expression might as well be changed to "no news is bad news," except that people may not be able to contact you because they have just been crowned king or are competing in a gymnastics tournament. The point is that there is no way to know why someone has not contacted you, until they contact you and explain themselves. For this reason, the sensible expression would be "no news is no news," except that it is so obvious that it is hardly an expression at all.
Like all fairy tales, the story of Sleeping Beauty begins with "Once upon a time," and continues with a foolish young princess who makes a witch very angry, and then takes a nap until her boyfriend wakes her up with a kiss and insists on getting married, at which point the story ends with the phrase "happily every after."
There are many things in this world I do not know. I do not know how butterflies get out of their cocoons without damaging their wings. I do not know why anyone would boil vegetables when roasting them is much tastier. I do not know how to make olive oil, and I do not know why dogs bark before an earthquake, and I do not know why some people voluntarily choose to climb mountains where it is freezing and difficult to breathe, or live in the suburbs, where the coffee is watery and all of the houses look alike.
The sad truth is that the truth is sad.
It's hard for decent people to stay angry at someone who has burst into tears, which is why it is often a good idea to burst into tears if a decent person is yelling at you.
One of the most troublesome things in life is that what you do or do not want has very little to do with what does or does not happen.
Miracles are like meatballs because nobody knows what they are made of, where they came from or how often they should appear.
If you have ever peeled an onion, then you know that the first thin, papery layer reveals another thin, papery layer, and that layer reveals another, and another, and before you know it you have hundreds of layers all over the kitchen table and thousands of tears in your eyes, sorry that you ever started peeling in the first place and wishing that you had left the onion alone to wither away on the shelf of the pantry while you went on with your life, even if that meant never again enjoying the complicated and overwhelming taste of this strange and bitter vegetable.
Of course, it is quite possible to be in the dark in the dark, but there are so many secrets in the world that it is likely that you are always in the dark about one thing or another, whether you are in the dark in the dark or in the dark not in the dark, although the sun can go down so quickly that you may be in the in the dark about being in the dark, only to look around and find yourself no longer in the dark about being in the dark, but in the dark in the dark nontheless, not only because of the dark, but because of the ballerinas in the dark, who are not in the dark about the dark, but also not in the dark about the locked cabinet, and you may be in the dark about the ballerinas digging up the locked cabinet in the dark, even though you are no longer in the dark about being in the dark, and so you are in fact in the dark about being in the dark, even though you are not in the dark about being in the dark, and so you may fall into the hole that the ballerinas have dug, which is dark, in the dark, and in the park.
...........
Now all you kind readers know that I'm a rip-off and nothing close to a writer. So I'm going to go back to my drawing board and draw cartoons because that is what I enjoy doing. Writing was a drag for me and I started because Beatrice told me to. I'm over with it.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table.
I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture.
I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms.
I never want to be away from you again, except at work, in the restroom or when one of us is at a movie the other does not want to see.
To Beatrice - darling, dearest, dead.
For Beatrice--My love for you shall live forever. You, however, did not.
For Beatrice--I would much prefer it if you were alive and well.
To Beatrice--My love flew like a butterfly, Until death swooped down like a bat, As the poet Emma Montana EcElroy said: "That's the end of that."
For Beatrice--You will always be in my heart, in my mind, and in your grave.
For Beatrice--When we met, my life began. Soon afterwards, yours ended.
For Beatrice--When we were together I felt breathless. Now, you are.
For Beatrice--Summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you is even colder.
For Beatrice--When we met, you were pretty, and I was lonely. Now, I'm pretty lonely.
For Beatrice--No one could extinguish my love, or your house.
Some more :-
When someone is a little bit wrong — say, when a waiter puts nonfat milk in your espresso macchiato, instead of lowfat milk — it is often quite easy to explain to them how and why they are wrong. But if someone is surpassingly wrong — say, when a waiter bites your nose instead of taking your order--you can often be so surprised that you are unable to say anything at all. Paralyzed by how wrong the waiter is, your mouth would hang slightly open and your eyes would blink over and over, but you would be unable to say a word.
When you were very small, perhaps someone read to you the insipid story — the word insipid here means not worth reading to someone — of the Boy Who Cried Wolf. A very dull boy, you may remember, cried Wolf! when there was no wolf, and the gullible villagers ran to rescue him only to find the whole thing was a joke. Then he cried Wolf! when it wasn't a joke, and the villagers didn't come running, and the boy was eaten and the story, thank goodness, was over. The story's moral, of course, ought to be Never live somewhere where wolves are running around loose, but whoever read you the story probably told you that the moral was not to lie. This is an absurd moral, for you and I both know that sometimes not only is it good to lie, it is necessary to lie. For example, it was perfectly appropriate, after Violet left the Reptile Room, for Sunny to crawl over to the cage that held the Incredibly Deadly Viper, unlatch the cage, and begin screaming as loudly as she could even though nothing was really wrong. There is another story concerning wolves that somebody has probably read to you, which is just as absurd. I am talking about Little Red Riding Hood, an extremely unpleasant little girl who, like the Boy Who Cried Wolf, insisted on intruding on the territory of dangerous animals. You will recall that the wolf, after being treated very rudely by Little Red Riding Hood, ate the little girl's grandmother and put on her clothing as a disguise. It is this aspect of the story that is the most ridiculous, because one would think that even a girl as dim-witted as Little Red Riding hood could tell in an instant the difference between her grandmother and a wolf dressed in a nightgown and fuzzy slippers. If you know somebody very well, like your grandmother or your baby sister, you will know when they are real and when they are fake. This is why as Sunny began to scream, Violet and Klaus could tell immediately tell that her scream was absolutely fake.
We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.
It is very unnerving to be proven wrong, particularly when you are really right and the person who is really wrong is the one who is proving you wrong and proving himself, wrongly, right. Right?
Oftentimes, when people are miserable, they will want to make other people miserable, too. But it never helps.
Stealing, of course, is a crime, and a very impolite thing to do. But like most impolite things, it is excusable under certain circumstances. Stealing is not excusable if, for instance, you are in a museum and you decide that a certain painting would look better in your house, and you simply grab the painting and take it there. But if you were very, very hungry, and you had no way of obtaining money, it might be excusable to grab the painting, take it to your house, and eat it.
There are two kinds of fears: rational and irrational- or, in simpler terms, fears that make sense and fears that don't. For instance, the Baudelaire orphans have a fear of Count Olaf, which makes perfect sense, because he is an evil man who wants to destroy them. But if they were afraid of lemon meringue pie, this would be an irrational fear, because lemon meringue pie is delicious and would never hurt a soul. Being afraid of a monster under the bed is perfectly rational, because there may in fact be a monster under your bed at any time, ready to eat you all up, but a fear of realtors is an irrational fear. Realtors, as I'm sure you know, are people who assist in the buying and selling of houses. Besides occasionally wearing an ugly yellow coat, the worst a realtor can do to you is show you a house that you find ugly, so it is completely irrational to be terrified of them.
I’m sure you have heard it said that appearance does not matter so much, and that it is what's on the inside that counts. This is, of course, utter nonsense, because if it were true then people who were good on the inside would never have to comb their hair or take a bath, and the whole world would smell even worse than it aleady does.
The moral of 'The Three Bears,' for instance, is 'Never break into someone else's house." The moral of "Snow White" is "Never eat apples." The moral of World War One is "Never assassinate Archduke Ferdinand."
Shyness is a very curious thing, because, like quicksand, it can strike people are any time, and also, like quicksand, it usually makes its victims look down.
The expression "Making a mountain out of a molehill" simply means making a big deal out of something that is actually a small deal, and it is easy to see how this expression came about. Molehills are simply mounds of earth serving as condominiums for moles, and they have never caused anyone harm except for maybe a stubbed toe if you were walking around the wilderness without any shoes on. Mountains, however, are very large mounds of earth and are constantly causing problems. They are very tall, and when people try to climb them they often fall off, or get lost and die of starvation. Sometimes, two countries fight over who really owns a mountain, and thousands of people have to go to war and come home grumpy or wounded. And, of course, mountains serve as homes to mountain goats and mountain lions, who enjoy attacking helpless picnickers and eating sandwiches or children. So when someone is making a mountain out of a molehill, they are pretending that something is as horrible as a war or a ruined picnic when it is really only as horrible as a stubbed toe.
Assumptions are dangerous things to make, and like all dangerous things to make--bombs for instance, or strawberry shortcake--if you make even the tiniest mistake you can find yourself in terrible trouble. Making assumptions simply means believing things are a certain way with little or no evidence that shows you are correct, and you can see how this can lead to terrible trouble. For instance, one morning you might wake up and make the assumption that your bed was in the same place that it always was, even though you would have no real evidence that this was so. But when you got out of your bed, you might discover that it has floated out to sea, and now you would be in terrible trouble all because of the incorrect assumption that you'd made. You can see that it is better not to make too many assumptions, particularly in the morning.
f you were to take a plastic bag and place it inside a large bowl, you could use the expression 'a mixed bag' to describe what you had in front of you, but you would not be using the expression in the same way I am about to use it now. Although 'a mixed bag' sometimes refers to a plastic bag that has been stirred in a bowl, more often, it is used to describe a situation that has both good parts and bad parts. An afternoon movie theater, for example, would be a mixed bag if your favorite movie were showing, but if you had to eat gravel instead of popcorn. A trip to the zoo would be a very mixed bag if the weather were beautiful, but all the man and woman-eating lions were running around loose.
Just about everything in this world is easier said than done, with the exception of ‘systematically assisting Sisyphus’s stealthy, syst-susceptible sister,’ which is easier done than said.
When you traveling by bus, it is always difficult to decide whether you should sit in a seat by the window, a seat on the aisle, or a seat in the middle. If you take an aisle seat, you have the advantage of being able to stretch your legs whenever you like, but you have the disadvantage of people walking by you, and they can accidentally step on your toes or spill something on your clothing. If you take a window seat, you have the advantage of getting a clear view of the scenery, but you have the disadvantage of watching insects die was they hit the glass. If you take the middle seat, you have neither of these advantages, and you have the added disadvantage of people leaning all over you when they fall asleep. You can see at once why you should always hire a limousine or rent a mule rather than take the bus to your destination.
Entertaining a notion, like entertaining a baby cousin or entertaining a pack of hyenas, is a dangerous thing to refuse to do. If you refuse to entertain a baby cousin, the baby cousin may get bored and entertain itself by wandering off and falling down a well. If you refuse to entertain a pack of hyenas, they may become restless and entertain themselves by devouring you. But if you refuse to entertain a notion--which is just a fancy way of saying that you refuse to think about a certain idea--you have to be much braver than someone who is merely facing some bloodthirsty animals, or some parents who are upset and find their little darling at the bottom of a well, because nobody knows what an idea will do when it goes off to entertain itself, particularly if the idea comes from a sinister villain.
A cloud of dust is not a beautiful thing to look at. Very few painters have done portraits of huge clouds of dust or included them in their landscapes or still lifes. Film directors rarely choose huge clouds of dust to play the lead roles in romantic comedies, and as far as my research has shown, a huge cloud of dust has never placed higher than twenty-fifth in a beauty pageant
If you are like most people, you have an assortment of friends and family you can call upon in times of trouble. For instance, if you woke up in the middle of the night and saw a masked woman trying to crawl through your bedroom window, you might call your mother or father to help you push her back out. If you found yourself hopelessly lost in the middle of a strange city, you might ask the police to give you a ride home. And if you were an author locked in an Italian restaurant that was slowly filling up with water, you might call upon your acquaintances in the locksmith, pasta, and sponge businesses to come and rescue you.
Of all the ridiculous expressions people use--and people use a great many ridiculous expressions--one of the most ridiculous is "No news is good news." "No news is good news" simply means that if you don't hear from someone, everything is probably fine, and you can see at once why this expression makes such little sense, because everything being fine is only one of many, many reasons why someone may not contact you. Perhaps they are tied up. Maybe they are surrounded by fierce weasels, or perhaps they are wedged tightly between two refrigerators and cannot get themselves out. The expression might as well be changed to "no news is bad news," except that people may not be able to contact you because they have just been crowned king or are competing in a gymnastics tournament. The point is that there is no way to know why someone has not contacted you, until they contact you and explain themselves. For this reason, the sensible expression would be "no news is no news," except that it is so obvious that it is hardly an expression at all.
Like all fairy tales, the story of Sleeping Beauty begins with "Once upon a time," and continues with a foolish young princess who makes a witch very angry, and then takes a nap until her boyfriend wakes her up with a kiss and insists on getting married, at which point the story ends with the phrase "happily every after."
There are many things in this world I do not know. I do not know how butterflies get out of their cocoons without damaging their wings. I do not know why anyone would boil vegetables when roasting them is much tastier. I do not know how to make olive oil, and I do not know why dogs bark before an earthquake, and I do not know why some people voluntarily choose to climb mountains where it is freezing and difficult to breathe, or live in the suburbs, where the coffee is watery and all of the houses look alike.
The sad truth is that the truth is sad.
It's hard for decent people to stay angry at someone who has burst into tears, which is why it is often a good idea to burst into tears if a decent person is yelling at you.
One of the most troublesome things in life is that what you do or do not want has very little to do with what does or does not happen.
Miracles are like meatballs because nobody knows what they are made of, where they came from or how often they should appear.
If you have ever peeled an onion, then you know that the first thin, papery layer reveals another thin, papery layer, and that layer reveals another, and another, and before you know it you have hundreds of layers all over the kitchen table and thousands of tears in your eyes, sorry that you ever started peeling in the first place and wishing that you had left the onion alone to wither away on the shelf of the pantry while you went on with your life, even if that meant never again enjoying the complicated and overwhelming taste of this strange and bitter vegetable.
Of course, it is quite possible to be in the dark in the dark, but there are so many secrets in the world that it is likely that you are always in the dark about one thing or another, whether you are in the dark in the dark or in the dark not in the dark, although the sun can go down so quickly that you may be in the in the dark about being in the dark, only to look around and find yourself no longer in the dark about being in the dark, but in the dark in the dark nontheless, not only because of the dark, but because of the ballerinas in the dark, who are not in the dark about the dark, but also not in the dark about the locked cabinet, and you may be in the dark about the ballerinas digging up the locked cabinet in the dark, even though you are no longer in the dark about being in the dark, and so you are in fact in the dark about being in the dark, even though you are not in the dark about being in the dark, and so you may fall into the hole that the ballerinas have dug, which is dark, in the dark, and in the park.
...........
Now all you kind readers know that I'm a rip-off and nothing close to a writer. So I'm going to go back to my drawing board and draw cartoons because that is what I enjoy doing. Writing was a drag for me and I started because Beatrice told me to. I'm over with it.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Unheralded & A Preposterous Episode
Dear Reader,
Hello, once again. Two posts in such a short span. Peculiar, isn’t it? I am not to blame. Blame all the wrong things happening in sequence. First, the Violet episode and now Beatrice. Another mishap. For a while I pondered whether the title “The Apathetic Files” was being done justice as all my posts were anything but apathetic. The post before this one and this one has justified the name of my blog.
We talked out of the canyon of distance and joined the mountains once more. The night we did that, I was telling her about Violet and how she meant so so much to me. She though I was suggesting that I liked Violet. Ha ha! I laughed quite a lot on this. And later that night when all the lights went out of sight she confessed of her affection for me. I couldn’t be more pleased. I had dismissed this earlier as too unreal. We boarded the love ship nevertheless. Initially, I thought about what had happened and had my doubts. I mused that this would ruin the friendship we had and I wouldn’t be able to love her like she did me. I was surprised that she didn’t have this playing in her head too. All she felt about his was ‘awkward’. I got on with it and realized I couldn’t ever get better than her and fell deeply into the blind but lovely pit of love.
She had to come to terms with the ruining the friendship part as well. Beatrice is impulsive and impulse leads to irrationality. She told me of her fear and also told me that she couldn’t love me like I loved her. She talked to me about it. I hadn’t. My mistake. The way out she found was us taking a break.
The aftermath? I don’t know. And I think neither does she. She needs to figure things out Even though I’m not much of an optimist I hope she does what she thinks is right.
Thank you for taking out your precious time and reading my blog. I am obliged towards you and your kindness.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
Saturday, January 24, 2009
The Miserable Mistake
Dear Reader,
I talked to Quila for the first time a day before what everyone considers to a very ‘happy’ day. Her birthday, that is. My status was about the race of people living in the distressing mountains at the head of our country. She happened to read that and argued over her pride. We kept talking for a while. ‘Talking for a while’ here means until my eyes went red sitting in front of the monitor. The next day I wished her even though I’ve never gotten the gist of wishing someone a ‘happy birthday’. To save you the dull details of the next few days and to save myself from uselessly writing I shall skip to the next week. We were messaging each other into the night for the past few days. I ended up, unfortunately obsessively falling in love with her. And I told her exactly that. She returned the favour with an added “but not in the other way”. If this wasn’t distraughting enough then her reason would be. Going through it informatively would be madness. So here’s it simplified. She went out with a guy, didn’t like him, broke up, liked him, patched up, he didn’t like her, broke up and the guilt of that chained her to not looking at me the ‘other’ way.
I learned to live with the fact that she didn’t return the affection I had for her. We became very close. Very close. I made it to the important people in her life. But not important enough to satisfy me. Things went on with me in solitude. X and Sugar tried their best to convince her that I would be a great help to get her out of the guilt padlock she was in. But nice guys aren’t nice enough for the people they are nice to even though being nice is not them.
Then the most hapless happened on New Year’s. Knave was a friend of hers and Sugar’s who kept on fighting with them in the most ungentlemanly manner very frequently. On the day she told X that he liked Quila and made him convince her to fall into his trap. Unknowingly and thinking that Knave was a wonderful guy X convinced Quila. Quila and he got into a relationship even though she didn’t like him. And mind you, all this happened when I used to like her. A few days later Knave very ungratefully asked her to choose between him and X. She chose Knave and X got to know of it. X was already miserable on his dog’s death and this made his stay in miserable land longer. Quila according to us is unfazed by this. But what we are completely sure of is that the profligate Knave is expending her. The miserable events about Quila saying evil things to Sugar have already been written about. Empathy---nah, leave it.
Forgive me, kind reader for sharing this mind bogglingly dull and distressing story.
With all due respect,
Esh Dec In
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