Unspoken Verses

I had the flowers delivered to my mom on Saturday morning, a day before mother's day. Cuz on Friday night, I thought, the next day was Sunday, mother's day. Tell me this happens to you folk too?

Girl: Dude, change your profile picture, it's so weird. Guy: Meh. Girl: Seriously, you look weird. Guy: If you're so keen, go login yourself and do it. Girl: ok, gimme your password. Guy: Seriously? Girl: Yeah. Guy: okay, here's it. Tell me your account and password, I'll login too. Girl: why? Guy: Cuz you're logging in mine. You're really logging in for real? Girl: hahaha, yes, you have three notifications, oh wait all of them are from me.Changing the profile picture now. Here's my password & login. Guy: Don't put up some lame-ass gay picture or something okay? Girl: yea, hehe.. Guy *logs in*: you have a notification, wait, you get a notification if I *change* my profile picture? DUDE, you're like a spy. Girl: Bwahaha, yea. Guy: *goes to the changed picture from her account, writes:* "Guy!! you look sooooooooooo hotttttt!!!!" Girl: dude, wth!! *gets busy* Guy: notification: "Guy's commented on your picture...

Heyall. So I just came back from a Lab Exam right now. You see, I'm doing Engineering in Computer Science right now. And so is possibly half the world. But that's not the point. The point is, that when I am wired in, i.e. if you've put me in an intense time shortage situation with a computer in front of me, and an objective to achieve- in the most efficient possible manner- while at the same time accounting for all the mad-bitch exceptions and variations, I am the biggest asshole on this planet. Don't talk to me, don't talk around me, don't ask me stuff, don't look at me, don't look at my desktop and be confused. because what's going on in my head is like this: aosdfhsdqlakjfhiaoufjlksdhflierhfakjdhfijadlfkh2qpomxeozpfyumnjxehgwfklqw except, in that moment, it makes sense to me. Which is a very hard thing to catch- especially for me. So when my Teaching Assistant, who is basically gonna be the one to evaluate me, asked me, if I t...

So you know what the best time to write or read or really even expand your talents and capabilities is? Exam time. Procrastination is defined as the art of the sudden realisation of the significance of various things which, up until that moment hadn't mattered, at a time when they shouldn't matter. courtesy: Hyperbole and a Half The interesting thing about this realisation is that the profoundness and interest generated by it is inversely proportional to their dullness at any other time and directly proportional to the significance of the issue which infact IS of prime importance at that time i.e. P f = I a / (D e ) P f - Procrastination-factor I a -Importance/Urgency of issue avoided (D e ) -Dullness of issue being entertained But by itself, procrastination is an art. It is important to fool the brain into believing that what you're doing at the moment, would qualify as constructive work, otherwise the brain may consciously realise that its being bull-shi...

So recently, my parents made us(me and sis) a deal. If we went to the wedding of these unknown people (relatives) and posed as their children (which we are) we'd get free food(cuz mom wasn't cooking anything for us). And we're not ones to turn down free food(as the only other kind was no food) So we took that deal.(cuz we live under their roof so its their rules too) And mom asked me what I was gonna wear. I said jeans( I would have preferred shorts but it was a wedding after all) and floaters( I wanted floaters). So she gave me trousers and shoes to wear. Now normally, I would choose what I want to be dressed in. But since I was goin just for the food, I let her choose which clothes she wanted me to drop it over. Then I combed my hair. ( I normally don't) And she looked me over from head to toe, and decided something was wrong with the way I looked. "Your hair's all wrong... go comb your hair" I ran my fingers through it and frizzled it...

Background: My current cellphone's display seems to be fried. So I basically  can't  access anything. Including contacts. Thus, I'm using an old phone for now, which has most of my contacts. On receiving a text from an unknown number Normal People: 1.Send a text saying, "Hey, I lost all my contacts, who is this?" Me: 1.Hook up the phone without the display to my laptop. 2.Use some software to access the contacts on the phone. 3.Search for the new number. 4.Not find it. 5.Send a text saying, "Hey, I lost all my contacts, who is this?"

I'm not that great, But this was just plain awesome. :P So, I completed the month, and I asked the guy what my stipend would be, and he said, "Wel, while I've liked your work, but there's one area that seems to be something of a concern for me, and that is basically your commitment. So while I normally would've paid a guy with your level of commitment something like.. umm one peanut, I'll give you 2." I decided to take my 2 peanuts, and go. But I had a great experience here, and really they were all pretty sweet. With a great office culture, no social hierarchies, and nice levels of professionalism. Maybe its time for me to be the sober sweet guy again. Or maybe I should sort my commitment issues. :P This for now. Ah wel. I'll get there when its necessary.   ;)

So I joined these dance classes. And No, its not gay. Infact I dunno what it is with this word lately. You see there was some marriage talk goin on in the house. And I told my mom, not to ever be forcin marriage or settling down on me. That i'd be livin life on my terms, whatever I choose. And she said alright, just make a good livin, gimme dough, and don't turn gay. And that was exactly when I was like, WTF? But anyway. My ex asked me WHY!!!! would I join dance classes. Then she remembered I was awesome at dance. Now, the kind of dance I do is basically a hip-hop style, with some break dance kinda thing, but havin copied moves off tv, I don't know what it exactly is. What I DO know, is that it does NOT consist of doing hip-rolls, shoulder-rolls, and tip-toe things while wiggling your butt to hey baby hey baby hey, all the boys say.. and hollaback girl, with 50 little class twelfth teenage girls, and 5 class 12th teenage boys. I am certain. What more it does ...

So, this is day number 2 for me at work. For the uninformed - which is all of you - I just joined an internship at a media company. This is how the interview went: Interviewer Guy Who'd Eventually Be My BOSS: Hey, Sam-writes (Well  actually my real name, and even though all of you pretty much do know it, I just have this obsessive compulsive need to pretend this is an anonymous blog. Please bear with it.) So tell me what really is SW, how do you define SW. Me: * Uhm... whaaaat?* Well, I am what you see, I like to do a lot of diverse things..uhmm..*stare around* , I play the guitar, I play basketball, I breakdance, I love programming..- IGWEBMB: Yea, now, I found that pretty surprising, not many programmers get involved in stuff like that. Me: Yea well, I was always in the middle, I was a cool guy with the nerd people, and a nerd with the cool people. *Seriously Sam? Is that you talkin?* IGWEBMB:*uhmm.. yeaa* alright, so I have a question for you, and we'll see how...

I have just been inducted into a band right now. I couldn say no, because it was 4th year seniors who approached me. They are under the impression that they are really cool, and have heard a lot of rock music. They even have a name for the band. They've named the band "Jaago". SHIT! *** FYI: We did not end up joining thankfully. But we did do a song for them, the video recording of which will never see the light of the day. Or even a tubelight. Or bulb. Or LED. I'm sorry, I can't help stuff like the last bit.

Okay, so when I was a kid, like really small and stupid, whenever someone said happy birthday to me, I used to say same to you. Now, It’s all stupid and shit I know, but my theory is that, my brain interpreted it as an inflow of positive wishes, and I probably wanted to reciprocate those wishes. I know that I suck at receiving compliments. I mean, again they're an inflow of positive wishes, and very often the person who compliments, after passing the compliment waits for the reaction. Usually, I respond with some varied and lame version of same to you. But it doesn't work under all situations. Then again, I may go into an explanation of how its not all to my credit, how other factors had a role in the awesomeness you're complimenting, and try to shift around the credit. except, very often it comes off as superficial and sometimes, if put badly enough, arrogance. I may try to be funny and say stuff like, Thats because I'm freakin AWESOME!!!!!!!!!! But that wears off...

So, the more I meet, the sooner they break up. The only reason the graph pics up at the end is because, number of times we met/meet must be

Let Set A = the kind of girls I find physically attractive. (essentially exuded persona, apart from general appeal) and Set B = the kind of girls I find mentally attractive. (essentially ability to have interesting/intelligent/funny conversation or generally smart opinions and insights) Then, the kind of girl I would now like to date = Set (A ∩ B) or maybe set(A ∩ B)=Angelina Jolie?

He stood there. Naked. Head down, arms on the chest. And waited. For those white icicle shards to tear him, as he knew they would. For aeons, hesitant, he stood. Mustering up his will. And he finally turned the knob, anticipating the chill. And it came, almost as if to kill. Long, thin, sharp, cold and white, straight for the chest. And just one single thought dominated his head. When will the freaking geysers start working? *** The other solution, which most people have used is to stop bathing.

So I've spent bout 3 weeks in this college now, and I figure its bout time for me to write a little bout it. I'm gonna be the sadistic mock that I am in general, and describe characters by writing sentences that those particular people are likely to say (not). Please do understand that I exaggerate for fun. Director : Hello all you lovely people. I know I smile a lot and sound really polite and nice, but please do not miss the obvious sarcasm dripping from my voice. I also love to remind you that if there's something that I want you to do, and you don't wanna do it, then you still have the option of withdrawing your admission from this college. I will do all in my power to help you get back a fair sum of your fees money. In short, all you awesome people, I hate humanity. 100 yr old maths teacher who's got the-most-freakishly-impressive-CV : *mumble mumble in my mouth* Physics mechanics teacher : I really wanna go home. :'( I mug up stuff and puke it here. 2nd y...

I'm a mad man. I swear to God I'm crazy. Honestly. Right now I'm talking specifically relationships wise, although that statement would probably hold true in many other scenarios too! So to start off, I'm a commitment phobe. But I'm not your normal kind of commitment phobe - the ones who are afraid of being tied down to a single person for an incredibly long time - nope, I'm not that. I'm commitment phobic cuz my mind, which is rather smart (and basically practical) knows that almost no relationship at this age will actually last through and I hate the ending part, so I'm actually a commitment phobe cuz I hate break ups. Sweet innit? ( But this is valid, only until the time that I haven't gotten into a relationship. After I get into one, I'm a girl. I also exaggerate a million times.) Now, if I hate break ups, I must tend to not let go of a relationship after a break up right? Like I must be the kind who tries to hold on? Right.. Except that'...

So I hate lies. Even fibs. As a result to be able to do what other mortals do with the help of lies(AKA, save their ass), I perfected another art. That of finding technical loop holes. Everything you say is open to my interpretation within the bounds of reasonable assumptions, and everything I say is open to your interpretation. Its not my fault if you do not interpret my thought correctly. The main trick to this lies in being incredibly vague, non-committal, and therefore unaccountable. Here are a few ways in which you can achieve the above: Always keep adding an I guess at the end of every sentence in your conversation... I guess. Thereby it is a clear indication, that what you say is only your interpretation of the scenario, and that you can basically not be held accountable for any of the negative out comes of the mentioned situation. Man created a brilliant escape-device for words and situations. Its greatness lies in 2 things: - its versatility of usage, and its simplicity. Wha...

[I'm watching tv, and mom wants to watch it] Mom: Gimme the remote! Me: Later, I'm watching somethin.. Mom: What're you watchin? Me: ... Mom: Is that Hannah Montana ? Me:... Mom: I have a friend whose 12 yr old daughter is a big fan of her. *smirks and walks out of the room* Me: ... :S

Heylo. So I am kinda not sure if i'm feelin sarcastic enough to do a blog post but I'm gonna give it a try. I realised I haven't enlightened you about the traffic rules guidelines here. Now I know, hailing from Delhi, I dun exactly have the right to be commentin about the traffic here. But incase u didn notice, I did not create that traffic right? I'm not responsible for it. N some of what I'm about to say may even (or may not - I'm not sure which, cuz wel, I'm not sure bout what I'm gonna say. I make it up as I go along. Its my favourite kind. I've already told ya I'm not a planner remember?) apply to Delhi (isn it like buggin when there is so much stuff in the bracketts that you forget what the real issue was?) So yea. We were talkin bout the traffic guidelines . A red light implies, that if u really dun mind stoppin, please do? I mean I know the long road ahead, the roar(or coughin pretty often) of your engine n the black fume sputterin ve...

So i'm generally pretty happy these days n all, like whether its because my days here are comin to an end, or whether because the cat drank my milk-the joy of feedin a hungry animal(and scarin it away when you find out thats happenin- No, not that i'm sure. The cat drank MY MILK. MINE MINE MINE. I dun think thats happy) or what really, i'm not sure. But the point is, i am, content-ish. Maybe its a body thing. It can't be unhappy for too long itself. I'm don't even mind my somewhat creepy friendish house-mates either! (who btw kinda eve teased away the girls livin in the house across the street. I am livin wid leches who walk in groups, n pass comments at girls or if in a more civilized environment, express their fantasies to eachother. Like atleast they used to wid the girls in that house. The steppin out of the femme from shimla was often met wid shouts of "shimla mirch" (capsicum which literally translates as the spice or chillies frm shimla). altho ...