Skip to main content
It's not a good idea to be loyal to your blog. If you inadvertently set an agenda (that is blogged) and have a change of heart later, you really wish better sense had prevailed earlier.
  • I stuck to the plan of Doing it, but only at 11:49 pm! And that too for just 5 mins only to stay true to my word.
  • I didn't cook the Chinese, at least not until it was past midnight (so it was technically the next day)!

Clever workarounds, though I had to cheat!


Anonymous said…
by chinese u mean noodles ? .
postponed follow up of agenda ,
thats part cheating ur words ,
clever workarounds indeed !
Anonymous said…
noodles being instant cooking ,
but not smooth cooking ,
now taste buds lacking exercise too .
get innovative in every sphere ,
including the cooking sphere ,
rediscover and improve cooking skills .

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