Here I am. Back to blogging everyday. No seriously, all those numerous blogs I lurk in, 90% of them authors crib about not getting enough time to blog.What if the same happens to me? ok, not what if, I am SURE the same will happen to me, in the glorious future of course.

either of the the following:

1] My net connection will be cut off due to me having acquired some finger disease caused due to excessive typing.

2] My net connection will be cut off due to my parents going bankrupt in due course of paying my college fees. [ astronomical, I tell you, that too without any guaranteed placement or whatever]


3] My net connection will be cut off because, umm.. ok, there will be a feud between the two wings of the broadband office, one that manages the TV cable-line connection and the other that manages the internet business.

Here I digress a lil' bit.

When I was in the city of Patna, I used to go to school by an auto-rickshaw. Not the type that you are likely to think of now.I mean it was an exclusive auto, which would, arrive at the apartment gate every day to drop and pick up kids from the same school, living in the same locality. Now Driver-Uncle was this really cranky person whose dialougue delivery was so damn delinked [notice the alliterations] that I'd fall in love with him over and over again. Something like:

"Ek Kutta[dog] insaan[human] se behter[better] hota hai, aur ek auto kutte se behter hota hai. Kyonki, after all petrol should be better tasting than dog food".

"yeh Bangalee log haste bahut zyada hai. But generally unke daant bade yellow hote hai."

"ye batao, world map mein mera auto kaha sthit hoga?"

We all have our different [false]excuses for being late. For example, one of my seniors in college came up with something like "A tree was uprooted right outside my house, yesterday night, during the storm.So I couldn't open the main door."

Driver uncle had the most unique story...

"petrol pump mein bhai-bhai ka jhagra ho gaya tha."

[Just FYI, this uncle is one person who I will remember throughout.Not as much because of anything else, as for my own selfish interests.He along with his wife had about 20 pets, just so because they couldn't have kids. They got to adopt a child. One fine day I was telling my auto-friends this story about how my mother having gone to some relative's place in the outskirts had in turn told me this story of a 24-hour old baby girl being dropped off inside a well,how she was rescued..et all.So uncle got interested in the story, which otherwise was inconsequential banter,really.To cut a long story short, {:-|}, Uncle got to adopt the same baby girl.]

Anyway, so you see the connection?... you don't?.. ok, I was talking about a feud between the different wings of the broadband office...you still don't get the connection?..ok..petrol pump?..bhai-bhai?...jhagra?..Aha!..there you go.

Yah, so I took this test, courtesy Poojo.C
Adrita : [noun] A master of story-telling. (among other things. This test gives you different answers every time you take it)


So this colossal digression is on its death bed now.
It will pass way....
........on the verge of passing away.....
........passing away...........
.......ok passed away.


Alright, so my net connection may be cut off due to a thousand more reasons, I might get an internship or a job ..[optimism atop a coconut tree, I tell you]..or I may run away to a place where there will be no H.O.D s and F.C.P s. How I hate college.It makes me this intolerably cynical, nagging, whining creature. Its not sad because of the intolerable and nagging and whining part, its sad because cynical is just not me.Just one day I bunk college, and the uproar that is the sound of my spirits is already defeaning.

Awlright, too much melodrama in the previous sentence. The point I've been trying to make right from the first line of this post is that, I might not be able to blog in the future. I mean the kind of situation where you want to blog, but can't blog.So, from now on I will try and blog everyday.

My mother is one character, I am telling you.

Day after day, everyday, I go to the gym at a time which is more late-night than early-morning. I dress up in a peculiar manner, putting on my over-sized black T.shirt and not so over sized black track pants. Every day, after getting up, I make an extra effort to maintain pin-drop silence so as that the extremely blessed living things inside the house can sleep peacefully. Just before going out, I gently pat my mother and when she is half awake, I ask her to close the door.

Now, thats one way of putting it. My mother came up with something like :

" you dress , look and act like a typical thief in the morning."

so ladies and gentlemen, blog commenters and blog lurkers, I have decided, I am gonna turn this blog into a blessed personal diary.

I have also decided that I am gonna use the word "blessed" instead of "bloody".
Language cleaning requires just some resolve, no municipal corporation needed.