Skip to main content

True to my words!

I've finally bunked. My Sify membership is coming in handy.

Comments

saurabh said…
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
saurabh said…
So u finally know what bunkin is all about... Welcome to the CLUB pal.
Anonymous said…
Hi Deep,
A random thought just crossed my mind. Knowing that you consider anything that is Hindi, Indian or pertaining to Bollywood to be substandard, I strongly recommend you to watch the new Hindi film called Black. It is a very good film and take my word for it. Do tell me about it if you ever watch it.
Anonymous said…
Hi.This is a new entry in ur readers list.Sweta Raj from bit lalpur b section.Saurabh Vivek told me about ur diary.It was nice reading it.
Anonymous said…
Ahem!!

Me not going to utter a word.
Me stay mum (and dad too).

(refer below for id)

Popular posts from this blog

This is what Bertrand Russell said about religion...

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. ... A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still ...