Chauvinism

I guess, men become chauvinists when women become sentimental .
And men become cynical when women become practical . (courtesy : Chaya )

Now, its time

This is my 101st post in this blog. Not every post is published ! But 100 posts written !
I am hearing a variety of comments about this blog and each of them is very very distinct from the other.
Made me think if I have a design for this blog .
While I write this, there is a feeling that I shoud move on ! Move on from what, to where, to do what .. Not quite clear .

Life, love and other trivial things

She looked at herself in the mirror and it seemed to her, as though it was broken . Why! She wondered, but not for too long. She had to get going as it was time for her to get going.


Being pure at heart is tough, she thought. Why was she doing it anyway, she wondered. What did she have with all the purity and sweetness.. The unending complexities of having to stick to her vow of self abstinence and still manage the desires!
Life had not been very good to her. Or so she thought. She even thought that it was probably just her thought . And life being good to someone is so relative afterall.

As she proceeded, she looked back once. She immediately thought, she shouldn't have. But she had looked back. Looking back also meant looking for the lost love. It wasn't love really, she told herself. It was an arrangement . An arrangment for convenience . But what isn't ? Is love which is not convenient possible ? Flourishable ? She had to move on.

She noticed that her hair was not made properly and that her clothes were fading . She needed new shoes. She had to book her tickets..

always@ (crossroads)

Firstly, am happy to be writing a few blocks that way .. always @ ( ... ) . For the uninitiated, please refer blocks in Verilog. OK, leave it !
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If I ever write a book, this is going to be the title : always @ (crossroads)
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Crossroads are funny.

Why God !

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/2111174/Intelligent-people-'less-likely-to-believe-in-God'.html
Not very sure how credible it is. But makes me feel good, nevertheless !
A lot :)

P.S: The link is having some bizzare problem . Please copy and paste the link to the address bar

How I hoped for sunshine, but it rained.

No.. It is enough of all this to me. I cannot stand these shades anymore. I hate the grays and the elusive mixture of these colors. Give me my blacks and whites. Give them to me now. I don't want those surprises, neither the shocks. I don't have the strength anymore.. To wait, to wonder, to ponder, to search, to fight, to break down and still come back, to win over it all.. I can't even move a step ahead without being certain about the next second. What have you gotten me into ? No, your intense eyes aren't playing the trick anymore. I know, I have learnt how to not feel lost , immersed in that intensity. But they tempt me anyway.
I am too old to be thinking utopian, you see. The world simply cannot work that way. Why, why , why do you want to do this to me ? What is wrong with me knowing it with certainty ? Why does every teeny weeny, tiny, simplest of the simplest ideas hover around being so uncertain ? What exactly is this thing about lack of clarity ? Why do all things in this world seem to happen so haphazardly, without me having no control whatsoever on them ? Let me go.. Let me just go far away and allow me to see it upfront . The Good and the Bad, The Sweet and the Bitterness, The Heat and the Cold.. The Black and the White..

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And she woke up from that nightmare !! She found herself profusely sweating in the middle of a cold night. Who did she talk to, in her nightmarish - dreamish -sleepish state ? She wondered .. Herself ?
No, it did not do much good..