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Showing posts from May, 2016

Ponder!

why do "unnatural" state visit us often? Perhaps to know what the natural state really means? #soothe http://bit.ly/1TLdkDT — Girmit (^‿^) (@cgBalu) May 28, 2016

Magic mirror, Magic bag #diary

Good. Bad. Good. Bad. Analyse. Read. Write something. My mother used to tell me that we should have a magic mirror so that we can see what is happening at kith and kin's places. Today using my windows phone and LG smart TV I projected my niece Wedding engagement function images and videos on the 49 inches Smart TV. Poor lady. She can't hear. She is now telling me 'if I can hear too..' One more fantasy of my mother is: "We should have a bag..that bag should always generate money incessantly and we should keep on spending..." We work and we get money every month. Incessant. Right?

One, two, three, four....#diary

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven and eight..... that's all remaining in my mouth now. What is the count? Yes, all molars gone. Premolar went. Incisors went. Some canines' are hanging around. The dentist couple very happily injects anaesthesia and 'dong'... They pull out my teeth - two per sitting. Four hundred bucks are also extracted. Then advice: "remove the cotton after half an hour. Eat ice cream Take painkiller if needed." The anaesthesia numbness remains some time. I don't care, my teeth are going....but regret, they could have gone to oblivion after getting my Grandfather Status.

Creative juice #diary

In the Sunday Science edition in one of the twitter accounts, I read about the biological time in humans. It said that between 11 PM and 1 AM the mind is creative. I can vouch for this fact. When I was at college, or when I was studying for some job-related examination, what little knowledge that went inside my head was around this time. May be for 10 to 20 minutes between 23 hrs to 1 hrs I had a great feeling of having accomplished something. It is sad that most of the creative juices dry up the next day.

I open a tiny window in this #diary

This 100 words diary is like opening a small window of my life. If someone happens to read they get a small glimpse of my face. Whether I am wearing clothes or am naked at home they will not know. A man is judged by what all he can remember and put forth in expressions like speech or writing. I don't remember the thought that just passed through me now, sometimes. How can I give you the best of my thoughts through a small window? When I open the window, just question me something. You may get a better glimpse.

Coffee with love to the 57 year old kid #diary

Evenings I ask my mom to prepare coffee. . Frail mom obliges. Am I hard on her to request to do this chore? Oh, her fingers are bent. Damn rheumatism. She cannot move about fast. Her legs pain like hell. She cannot hear. When I ask her coffee, she moves driven by love. Ah- succeeds in lighting the stove. She pours the decoction into the vessel. She boils the milk. She mixes the milk and coffee decoction adding sugar. She takes help in opening the sugar bowl. Some exercise to her hand. Coffee with love to the 57 year old kid

pap and blathering #diary

These writings are simply pap and blathering. There is no surrealism in these posts. There is an itch to write and that is done framing certain rules and routines. Writing one hundred words is one rule. Picking up a subject for  a day, posting them into a blogging platform I choose and creating the diary link at twitter around 9 pm are the rules I follow now. I followed a rule to begin a day's entry with a word or phrase with which I ended the previous post. This rule is exempted now. Free writing now, here for a week.

Optimistic Pessimism #diary

I cleaned the kitchen table. I wanted to get appreciated by my mother. I wanted her attention. Poor lady, she can't hear and she cannot move fast. Moreover she was watching a movie on the TV. I called her and showed my great work. "your wife coming tomorrow?" (silly. She thinks I will clean only if wife comes) I showed my one finger. "one day?" I nod negative. "one month?" Oh, how to tell her one week? I want to tell my mother so many things. But she gets it wrong. She articulates pessimism. Pessimism or optimism? Keep mum. Love.

That plan should go well with theirs too #diary

It is nice. The new month begins on a holiday. Let me relax actively and be ready for a hectic week ahead. One of the awkward moment is: "waiting". Now I am waiting for the help maid to clean the house. When she will come? It is after her work is over, that I can continue my work. Yesterday, I was waiting for the mechanic for the service of my car. The thing is we chalk out a plan for us. That plan should go well with theirs too. The waiting for mother to give her the porridge was also anxious.