I just can't take it anymore. I should have moved on long back but lingered in the hopes of a miracle. It was not to be and I've finally given up hope. The writing was always on the wall but I pretended not to read. Reality cannot be overlooked anymore.
It's painful but it must be done. The neglect is too much.
Google seems to have completely forgotten that it owns Blogger. Google bought the pioneer in the field of blogging and allowed it to languish while WordPress happened out of nowhere and thrived under the sun. While wordPress does come with a few caveats of its own, they diminish in comparison to Google's step-motherly treatment of Blogger.
Leaving behind a blogging platform is like junking your most trafficked mail id - you just can't get away from it completely. So while Blogger will always remain the mother ship, WordPress is where I may do at least some of my next few posts. In the long run, all posts will be come to Blogger, but not before WordPress has …
My heart bleeds for Yahoo. The iconic company, which was once synonymous with the web is no more the independent Internet company it once was.
Being a portal was all the rage before the dot-com bust. After the bubble burst, Yahoo suffered from an identity crisis, much like the now-forgotten portals Excite and Lycos. Yahoo weather the storm much better than its competitors, but the new era didn't belong to portals, it belonged to specialists like Google and Facebook. Yahoo watched from the sidelines as it missed one opportunity after the other.
A spate of clueless CEO's didn't help either. Marissa Mayer was an expensive and promising hire as CEO of a sinking ship. Many people saw her as the only hope. The hopes were soon to be dashed. The identity crisis perpetuated under her and Yahoo's stocks continued to tumble. Expensive acquisitions were made in the hopes of reviving Yahoo's fortunes, but the company simply didn't know how to manage its acquisitions.
I was entrusted with the job of taking Ari for a haircut to the saloon right across the street. Having just come from work and looking forward to a weekend of blissful nothingness, a dissonant harbinger of this sort was met with subtle grunts of frustration and disapproval, but Asha would have none of it. Having just returned from Ari's swimming lessons, she had the moral high ground to delegate this menial task on to me.
Having come from a tropical country to England and not having acclimatized in all these years, she still equates love and affection for her child with keeping him as warm as possible throughout the year, even if it makes him sweat. She is entirely incapable of believing that there is such a thing as over-dressing. So while she once again customarily instructed Ari to don his jacket, and as Ari obediently followed instructions, I instructed the reverse. Being sandwiched between parental instructions contradicting each other, Ari was in limbo for a while before h…